RP:A Drink to the Accursed

Loaya meets Scandal in the Keylay tavern, he buys her a drink and they make their first acquaintance.

RP

Loaya saunters in, a rhythm to her steps as she makes her way to the bar. Tattered vestiges of a dress hem trail in her wake.

The dragon some knew as Scandal was not his right colors today as he sat at the bar, drinking his drink and keeping his wings tucked to his back. He wore but a simple purple robe and his scales were a stark white color, and the flesh beneath his snout and his neck was a toxic green color, clearly odd for those who knew the dragon for having black scales and a red underbelly. He notices the female with a torn dress, and merely glances her way with his red eyes.

Loaya tosses her own glance towards the oversized creature of origins unknown. She has never seen a figure quite like this before, quick to avert her gaze while her brain processes. The ebon female motions towards the bartender with two fingers, words dripping with honey and long vowels, "Whiskey, neat, m'dear barkeep." L'oaya feels the air, nostrils slightly filling, reading the creature as living. Her plain countenance betrays no emotion, despite slight disappointment. So many living things in this land.

Scandal himself had a spiced bourbon, lite on the ice, and sweetened with mild flame, cooking down the alcohol and sweetening the beverage, as he sipped his drink. "Never seen you before." his voice rich and deep, sure he was 8' tall of course had his ability to shapeshift been working he might have appeared better and shorter. One might detect a very massive manna field about the being. The barkeep returns fulfilling the order and sliding it over. Scandal himself nods at the keep, and the keep understand preparing the dragon a second helping.

Loaya realizes the scale-ridden male is speaking to her, eyes slowly shifting back to it, without tilting her dreadlocked topped skull. Words issue forth while she remains facing the bartender, hesitant to make any sudden movements or even to make direct eye contact, "Nor have I, monsieur."

Scandal turning his eyes away from her he took a drink of his beverage before the bartender gave him his second. "Might be that I don't usually come here that often anymore, I might have missed an earlier acquaintance." Reaching into his robe he pulled out a few gold coins, and placed them on the counter to the bartender motioning first to his drink and then to her order. The tender would nod, and understand.

Loaya finally takes a sip of the room temperature liquid, enjoying the slow burn as it goes down. Her reply is cordial, utilizing similar phrasing as his response, "Or it might be that I arrived off of a pirate galley, but only two eves ago." With the mention of the her prior travel folk, an unseen and unfelt breeze of sorts ripples at her frayed skirt hem, twisting and darting through the fabric. She murmurs softly down in a soothing tongue, syllables of a foreign land. L'oaya has found herself a strange girl in a stranger land.

Scandal nods "That is also another explanation." He grimaced as he stood up from his bar stool turning away from the woman so as to avoid causing her to move. The occasional muffled sound of snapping of bones and joints can be heard emenating from the dragon. "Here, a gift from a dragon to a stranger, have a good evening." He said leaving some gold and moving towards the door. (I have some gold for you got to retrieve it from the bank first be right back, don't go nowhere.)

Loaya resists moving away from the unknown scaled monster, still attempting to work out in her head what it is. A curse! That must be it. He is cursed; just as she. The gift left behind startles her out of thought, as she finally turns, facing the creature, "Thank you, monsieur... I do not know what I have done to earn such generosity."

Scandal turns and smiles, "Politeness, and a friendly face, earn many a friend in these lands, you embody them well." He said.

Loaya dips her crown of dreadlocks in gratitude, gaze lowering to the floor. When she lifts her head, those dark brown eyes dart to make eye contact, spotting his crimson pupils for the first time. The red eyes seem to reassure her hypothesis that he is cursed, finding an unspoken bond there. Humor darts into her molasses-laden voice, "Again, thank you. Polite, always. I don't know if many call me a friendly face though." A flash of a smile plays across her ebon lips, bright white teeth exposing momentarily before she catches herself.

Scandal smiles a closed smile, first. "Well a friendly face, is friendly in the eye of the beholder," He smiles a toothy grin similar to hers of course with dragon teeth exposed well, he closes his mouth as well, "It depends solely upon what one interprets."

Loaya smirks, "Aye, monsieur, I suppose one can say that." A linen-bandaged hand dips out, her hands and forearms carefully wrapped up to the elbow to avoid any skin contact with the living, "The name is L'oaya." She pauses, nearly giving forth her title of old as 'Lover of the Dead', but stops herself. New land, new you, and all that jazz.

Scandal smiles as he shakes the hand. "Scandal."He pauses a second, "Yes I know its an odd name."

Loaya gives a good handshake. One has to have a solid handshake to be respected in the world, especially when dealing with vagabonds, pirates and her kin. L'oaya withdraws the bandaged appendage and gives a friendly shrug, "It has a debonair flair to it."

Scandal shrugged, "Perhaps, your name though is the better by far."

Loaya gives a small smile, "It has a certain flow to it."

Scandal nods "Indeed it does," A similar cracking noise can be heard and scandal winces. "I am sorry I need to find myself a big open plain, I suffer from Shapeshifters Necrosis, at least that what i think it is, I just won't be able to hold this form or size much longer. I do apologize, but I am out of Shapeshifter's assistant Potions."

Loaya is positively baffled by the scaled-creature's words, her face going into a neutral expression as she deciphers the words. She interprets the 'Shapeshifter's Necrosis' as the curse she has taken him for having. "Ah, monsieur, please, attend to any needs that relieve your cur--- condition." Another dip of that dreadlocked head in understanding.

Scandal nods with a smile as he moves out, "A pleasure to meet you, perhaps we will meet again," he then leaves with a single phrase for her to think about, "Not all the mountains you climb, are rock, some maybe alive."

Loaya cants her head slightly as she watches the still unknown monster retreat from the bar. Such a curious creature; at least her curse has yet to taint her physical appearance. There is a ripple at her feet, that unfelt breeze stirring at the ragged hemline of her dress again, spirits stirring at the attention. Soft foreign words quiet them as L'oaya turns to face the bartop again.