RP:A Lightweight & A Bard Walk Into a Bar

The Slippery Eel

Tyler sits alone at a table near the center of the Slippery Eel with a bottle of ale in his left hand while the fingertips of his right collide in a rhythmic motion on the wooden tabletop. Caramel eyes jolt about the unfamiliar establishment. His face twists in disgust as he sees the smoked eel's dangling from the ceiling. Suppressing the urge to puke at the poor choice of food the human allows a sigh to escape before lifting his ale and taking a heavy drink. His left foot tapping uncontrollably against the floorboard as he does. Setting the bottle back down he continues to look around the bar and seemed to be drawing the stares of a few patrons due to his odd appearance which didn't help his unease. Covered in bandages both above and below his clothing the male looks like a he's taken the beating of a life time.

Raphaline is a bustling display of color and rather jovial emotions. She was enjoying going to see her friends fight in their duels, some admirable while others were horrendous to watch. Now that she had had her fill of blood and broken bones, it was only natural for the bard to venture to the Eel and indulge in another favorite pastime--drinking. As she slips into the tavern, she notices a certain male from the other day. With his nervous actions, the bard cannot help but slip around to his table. "Nice seeing you here."

Tyler was in an entirely different world within his mind and jerked violently when Raphaline approached to speak to him. The stressed male staring for a moment and then proceeding to eye over the bard once or twice as if he were completely oblivious to who she was. However, a few seconds pass and a light goes off in Tyler's head allowing his eyes to lighten up as he goes to speak, "Oh, uh, yeah!". A quick, deep breath is taken in an attempt to calm his nerves as it becomes clear the human would be forced to interact with the half elf. He nods to himself before extending his free hand to the chair before him. "Uh, please. Have a seat. You're the lady from the other night right? The one by the construction zone?" Memories of his recent battle against Mythayus begin to swarm Tyler's mind and he suddenly becomes very aware of his wounds. Thankfully, his shirt managed to cover the plentiful bandage wraps and burn marks on his torso while the only visible damage would be the shot shoulder and blackened eye that Raphaline had already witnessed. While he awaits a reply he finds himself taking another drink from his ale, as if his life depended on it.

Raphaline eyes the human for a moment, taking in the obvious wounds as well as the still nervous nature. Taking a seat, she makes a gesture to Cara, "A tall whiskey and another ale for him, he looks like he has had a rough time." She wouldn't pretend she didn't notice his current condition, but neither would she bother him for details, instead she offers a grin. "Aye, I was there at the construction area. Sorry about all the bombardment, I tend to know a lot of people in these lands." And it wasn't a surprise, she talked to everyone. "Have you been enjoying your time here in Chartsend?" Keeping the conversation light for his sake.

Tyler offers a smile as another drink is ordered for him even managing to mouth the word 'thanks' in Raphaline's direction. At her question the smile remains plastered on his smug little face. The roaring of the crowd flooding his mind once more as he simply nods casually and raises his glass again. "Yeah. Yeah, I have." After taking a drink he realized how odd he might sound if he doesn't provide an explanation so he begins waving his hand around to motion in different directions. "Lots of uh, things. Oceans and fish and stuff. People too." He nods and turns to face the opposite direction while finishing off his current ale to allow himself to make an odd face as in a 'What the hell did I just say?' type face. Turning back he places the empty bottle on the table and motioned to her instrument. "So, you, you play or something?" He really was a wreck at this social interaction thing. In fact, Skylei had been the only person he'd managed to have a decent conversation with and even then the duo had their odd moments.

Raphaline holds up her violin case that had been carefully stashed underneath the table. "Violin mostly. Sometimes, if I have access to another instrument, I will play it. Piano, mandolin, lyre." She preferred the string instruments to many others. As for his explanation, well, she wondered if the white lie yesterday was the reason, maybe he had been one of the fighters. She would not ask, that was his secret, and she was a woman with many secrets of her own. "Glad you have enjoyed yourself. Of many of the other lands, this is the one that I seem to keep coming back to. Might be the land, might be the people." The bard shrugs, but she does brighten up when Cara brings over the drinks. With a renewed sense of serenity, the bard settles into her seat and sips at the whiskey.

Tyler nods as Raphaline lists off the instruments she is proficient with the human a bit envious of her talents. "Well, I can play a drum... kind of." The truth was Tyler had never seen a drum in person, much less played one. But he assumed it was something along the lines of just slapping and assumed he would be qualified to perform such a task. At her description of Chartsend he would grin. "Yeah, I've been renting a room in Kelay since I've come here. To be honest, I don't know why I hang around. What with all the thugs and garbage rolling through. But, I guess it kind of feels like home. Though it is hard to sleep with all the noise from the tavern sometimes." Offering a nod and thanks to Cara as she arrives with his replacement ale he hands her the empty to take back. Popping the cork he offers a toast to the bard before returning to his own drink. It would seem the liquid encouragement had begun to kick in as he seemingly loosened up. "So, about the fights going on here. What's the big deal with them anyway? I mean, what would cause a big-ol' guy like the fella' at the beach to want to come and fight others in such a relaxed place?" Tyler set his mind on the thought of Eliason and couldn't help but feel guilty at his sudden hope that the man would be removed from the tournament after the first round. But then again, if someone could beat him would they really make a better alternative if Tyler were to face them?

Raphaline is quite thrilled to see the man opening up, even if it is with a little assistance. She hoists her own glass up with a cheers darling, before taking a long drawl of her whiskey. As she sets the glass down once more, she quips, "Its meant to bring people to the area, so they can see how much Chartsend has expanded. For awhile, no one traveled out here, now, a lot of people have to for the chance to win some gold." And gold is always a good way to get people to go anywhere. As for the obvious choice in words to describe Eli, she laughs, jovial and amused at everyone thinking him a giant, tough warrior. "He is sweet. Rather a kind heart when not in a fight, so, whoever ends up fighting him, I expect Eli will be rather honorable about not trying to maim them too much." The bard moves for her whiskey glass once more, downing the rest of the contents. "You might think about renting a room here sometime, it is a much pleasurable place, and less likely the tavern will wake you during the wee hours of the morning."

Zette presses her face to a window. The little fae has not worked up the courage yet to go inside the tavern -- and she avoids the door and the patrons entering and exiting the tavern equally. She stands on tip-toe -- at four feet, she's not tall enough to reach the window, otherwise, and even so it would seem just the top of a head with raven-colored matted tresses would be seen, along with beautful, slanted eyes. Her face is covered from at least mid-nose down by what she is currently considering a very inconvenient window-sill. Her hands press to the grubby glass as well, as she peers in at food and drink alike, wondering at the people.

Tyler knew all to well the allure of gold. He had been in Hollow for four months and had to resort to stealing just to make ends meet. It was actually how he got the nice shiner on the right side of his face. As he takes a drink of ale he must turn away once again to allow his eyes to widen at the thought of Eliason maiming him. Suppressing a whimper the human readies himself to turn back to Raphaline but catches an odd sight. Spotting Zette at the window Tyler performs a double-take to his ale and the window before slowly turning back to the table and pushing his ale away. Tapping his hand on the table three times lightly as he tries to comprehend what he has seen. Turning back to face Raphaline as she mentions renting a room in Chartsend he nods at the thought of the idea. "Well, a friend of mind has actually already paid Mesthak for an... extended stay. But maybe once that well runs dry I'll try to find my way up here."

Vakko silently slips into the tavern, but any semblance of stealth is taken away by the groggy yaw that slips form the drow. Rubbing at his colorless eye he half looks about the tavern as the last remnants of his late afternoon nape fade from his mind. Seeing Raph and the others he had met the other day he offers a slight smile before heading over to the bar to get a drink.

Raphaline notices the pause and sudden stare at the window. Curious, the bard turns towards the same window and finds herself eye to eye with a certain fae she keeps running into. Grinning, the bard sets her whiskey glass down and rises. "Give me a moment." She says, gesturing for the male to stay put while she ran to do something really quickly. Quietly, she slips to the bar, gestures for one of the pastries, and takes it with her outside to the fae. "Again, we meet." The bard holds out the flaky treat to the fae, "Won't you come in?"

Zette backs away as the woman approaches. Does she recognize the bard? It seems as though she might, as the fae darts green eyes not to Raphaline's face, but rather the extended wrist. She chirps a little, a noise half of fright and half curious, and she lifts her own arm, taking her hand away from the window to snatch at the pastry. Around her wrist, bandages no longer lie, but a thick scar around the skin-and-bones at the joint, with thinner ones spiralling out. At her upper arm, barbed wire seems to still be embedded in flesh, though the fragments are short, and few, here, at least, with the surrounding skin having healed over them. Zette's eyes shoot a quick glance to Raphaline's face, searching, questioning, and then to the door of the tavern in question. She's not been inside a building since she made her escape, and is wary of being trapped again. A step backwards follows, more unconscious than anything else, as the fae shows no clear signs of running away, just yet.

Tyler watches as Raphaline makes her move to the door and ignores her orders of staying put. Picking himself up to follow her he manages to enter view just as the fae snatches the pastry. Caramel eyes widen as he looks from Zette to Raphaline a few times before raising his hand and patting Raphaline's shoulder. "That's... um... that's enough for me thanks." is all the human can manage to say before turning and stumbling off into the distance. His mind clouded by the ale yet his social anxiety had begun to get the best of him. Catching sight of Vakko didn't help much either. The two had made progress, I mean, Tyler actually spoke to her for longer than three minutes and even pulled together a few comprehensible sentences!

Raphaline watches as Tyler comes up behind her, pats her shoulder and takes off. What is with all the skittish people today? As for the Fae, the bard does not make any gesture for her to come in, instead, she leans against the window of the tavern, waiting for her to become more comfortable around Raphaline. "Don't worry, I won't make you go in, but if you want more pastries, I would be happy to buy you plenty more to go around." She glances once more into the building, spotting a certain drow and makes a gesture for him to stay put.

Zette takes another step back as Tyler approaches, shifting in such a way that the wolf-pelt hanging from her shouders falls to the ground. She crouches to pick it up (in the hand unoccupied by a certain pastry, of course), though she does not bend naturally, refusing to expose her neck or her back, refusing to take her ever-widening eyes off of the retreating-man. She does not glance inside -- so she has not yet seen Vakko -- rather, she occupies herself first by mimicking the speech and pattern of Tyler's voice, worldlessly singing a little illusion to life before her, a spot-on rendition of the human, which she studies with more intensity than the actual man. It fades -- neither hum nor illusion lasting more than three seconds -- at the mention of more pastries. She looks down at her hand, and her wings flutter behind her, irridescent greens simmering with hot pink and blue highlights in the sun. They extend, excitedly, as the girl takes a bite. A playful grin creeps across her face, as though she has gotten away with something quite mischevious and not merely taken a bite of food. She tucks the pelt under her arm and reaches out for the Bard's hand, to be led inside. -There are -more- of these-, she thinks, in her own special way, and if she plays her cards right, the sweet dough-and-fruit combination will be -hers-.