RP:An Attempt at Normality

Synopsis: Orphyn tries her best to be a waitress for the night, meeting a friendly card player in the process.

Characters: Orphyn, Anson

Location: Vailkrin

Date: March 17th, 2016

Hanging Corpse Tavern

Orphyn makes an unusually quiet entrance into the Hanging Corpse, her usually vivacious demeanor replaced with one more cool and even tempered. She wore an ensemble of blue and black leathers that creaked lightly as she strode across room toward the bar, a light nod offered to any patrons she may pass by. To Steadmen a brief greeting, "Hiya Patchy. Sorry I'm late. ...Problems to deal with. If you don't mind, I'm going to just start cleaning?" The barkeep simply nodded in turn, letting the young woman get immediately to work. She headed then to the upstairs quarters to begin.

Den of Vice

Orphyn entered into the Den of Vice with a bucket and cloth in hand. A gentle huff pushed crimson bangs out of her eyesight so that she could get a good look at her surroundings and determine what needed a good cleaning. She weren't exactly dressed to play maid, given that she wore a fairly revealing bodice- a tactic to squeeze sizeable tips out of the frequenting customers that made their way in and out of the Corpse. A nod is offered to any patrons within the Den as she began to mark her first target, an empty card table that had been littered with remnants of food and drink.

Anson just happened to be one of the inhabitors that was busying himself with a hand of cards. His muddy eyes flickered to the door when it was opened by the red headed woman. His brow lofted as the hand was folded and he reached to gather his earnings, the men at the table grumbled and removed their bums from the seats they ha been playing from. "I wish I could prove you was cheating" grumbled a rat-faced man who was spitting fire mad at loosing. Anson just batted his long lashes at the man and smirked. "Better luck next time Weezer" he chuckled at the man. His attention then turned to his empty whiskey bottle, and then to the cleaning lady. "Miss?" His voice called out.

Orphyn wrinkled her nose as she scrubbed at the empty table, it had been a little while since someone had passed through here it seemed. There were remnants of something sticky and gooey, and it looked rather old. Crimson bobbed as the young woman looked from from her cleaning, that cool gaze locking onto Anson like an eagle upon prey. Something inside popped, a lantern lit, and she flashed a pearly grin. "Hiya! What can I do for you, sir?" She eyed the empty bottle. "Another?" The cloth in hand was dipped once more into the bucket as she awaited his response.

Anson watched as she ha scrubbed the sticky icky gunk from the table, after all he was a man and the woman's wardrobe had stolen his attention. As she looked at him, his skin kinda crawled under her blue gaze and it still stayed when it had clicked to a change. "Yes Ma'am" he said tossing his empty bottle into a near by trash can that shattered when it landed in the bottom. The polished hands of the man reached for the abandoned cards and pulled them in to begin shuffling.

Orphyn wouldn't take too long, really. A single bounce of her head, a quick turn on heel and she was off downstairs to grab the man his requested beverage. Upon return she had in hand a single stone tray with a bottle of whisky, a small bucket, and a clean glass. "One bottle of Whiskey at the ready!" she exclaimed, setting the glass down next to the man. With the pull of her teeth, she spat the cork out onto the table, tipping the amber liquid into the glass about two shots full. The bucket, which contained chips of ice, was settled down along with the remaining contents of the bottle to the patron's side so that he may do as he wishes to make the drink his own. "Play often?" she then asked with a mild curiosity. Before he could answer, Orphyn looked to her left and sneered at no one in particular.

Orphyn gave 1 whiskey to Anson.

Anson was quiet impressed with the speed of the woman's waitressing skills, and even more impressed that she brought a chilling bucket for the remainder of his bottle. A steady hand reached over to his winnings and pulled out ten of the golden coins slipping it to in front of the woman. Muddy eyes watched as she sneered something invisible to his own eyes and a slight clearing of his throat tried to keep him at ease. "I actually do this for a living, I run the poker room in Rynvale" his voice is full of pride as he takes the glass into his hand and turns it up to his lips, when the glass is gone he places it back to the table. "What about you have you ever played?" his weight pushes against the back of the chair causing it to rare up on two legs.

Anson gave you 10 gold.

Orphyn tried her best to maintain a cool demeanor, but there was a bit of a greedy glint in her eye as the coins were scooped up post haste. She didn't count them, but the weight alone spoke of worth. "No. No I have not. I wasn't allowed to have cards in the ward." She stopped and thought about the words that managed to burst from her lips like a ruptured sewage pipe. "Orphanage ward, I mean. When I was younger." Smooth save! Sharp in mind, she quickly placed focus upon the patron. "Poker room in Rynvale, hmmmm? Haven't been there before! Although I've been to Rynvale many times! Deliveries and such! It sounds like you have a real neat-o living! Much money in it?" She didn't wander far, but the tattooed woman resumed her duties in tidying up empty seating.

Anson was studying the woman's body language and eyes as she scooped the gold, it had been part of his training while learning to play cards as well as he did. The greedy glint was usually in any man's eyes while they played the game with hopes of winning the pots, but for a working barmaid it was a bit more shocking. A When she had mentioned the "ward" and then covered the ward with orphanage, the man's look was quiet skeptical maybe it was because after his Granny had died he had spent his years at the various ones throughout the lands. "Well that is quiet different" he said raising up and pouring himself another double into his glass. "That is where I learned my trade" the subject was changed though as he gulped down the glass's contents. "As for the job I have, I must say I don't know which I love more... The gold, the whiskey, or the game" this caused a light chuckle to come from his gut. "It's a hidden room that one would have to be invited too, or have enough gold to find" his muddy eyes followed the woman while she worked, the skin barring the artwork was the main focus of his gaze. "Now as for you? Do you like cleaning up after drunkards?" His fingers scratched absently at his chin hairs.

Orphyn giggled as she listened, idly continuing to clean up after the various patrons that had long left their empty glasses behind. Suddenly as she lifted a glass, the crimson topped woman paused and seemed to stare across the table she were currently cleaning, back turned to Anson. "No. Not now. please, not now. I'm working." she hissed through gritted teeth. It wasn't overly loud, but at least one or two patrons might have looked her way. Orphyn tried her best to write off the incident, a shoulder shrugged as she turned to look at the expert card shark. "It's okay I guess. It's not travelling the world or anything super exciting, but it gets me through. It keeps my mind busy. Busy busy busy. In a way, it's a safe haven." Something akin to a grin graced her lips. "I get to meet all sorts of interesting people at least."

Anson had enjoyed hearing the female's giggle and even had a smirk about his lips, but it all changed when he heard her hiss at the air infront of her. It became all to clear to him at that moment, and a uncomfortable shift was done in his seat. "Umm Miss..." his words stopped short of finishing his sentence as she seemed to come back to him. "Traveling isn't all it's cracked up to be" his memories floated to the times he had spent on the ship working. "Sometimes all one wants is a place to call a permanent home" the sound of shuffling cards had returned, it was after all Anson's nervous tick. "So your artwork is quiet colorful, and extremely beautiful... What was the most painful place" his words was just to keep her talking so he may observe her even more. "And yes meeting -interesting- people is quiet the jolt of fun" he wondered if she would be one of those people.

Orphyn's ebon-lined lashes fluttered, her gaze often drifting between the stranger and the empty spot to her side. In one arm she carried a crate that were now full of glassware; The other coming to grasp at her elbow. She began to fidget with nervousness. "Um. Yeah." she started, a deep few heaves of air taken in. A Panic attack? "I-I guess. You have a point. Sometimes it's hard to find a good place to call home. Sometimes live makes you move whether you want to or not." Suddenly looked to Anson and said, "Please e-excuse me a moment? I... need to drop these off." Without so much of a chance to respond, Orphyn left Anson quite immediately, hurrying out into the corridor and down the stairs. It was about ten or fifteen minutes later she would reappear, her gaze halved and glossy looking. She seemed to be a little calmer, her breaths deep and slow. She snorted twice, painted nails lifted to wipe at the underside of her nose. To Anson she offered a quick apology as the young woman wandered over to where he had been seated. "Patchy gets mad if I take too long." she offered with a grin. "Um. Right. The ink." her eyes drifted to the bare flesh of her arm, the biceps, where the start of lengthy murals where showcased upon her peachy complexion. The remainder were hidden under half sleeves that covered her elbows and forearms. "Uh, I guess the back of the arm, I think. It was the most tender...." Looking the man over, she asked in turn, "What about you? Do you have any?"

Anson was baffled when the woman had to excuse herself so abruptly, but even more baffled when she had returned and tried to wipe her nose clean. "I understand?" his words sounded more puzzled than anything, was she an addict that was having withdrawals, or was she truly sick and needed the medicine that seemed to go into her nostrils. He threw his hand into the air when the woman tried to apologize to him "Attending to Patches demands is a part of your job..." He offers her a kind smile and even ushers his hand to have her join him at the table. The ink was beautiful indeed and the artist had taken pride in the canvas they had worked on, his eyes traced them again as she turned her arm about. "I don't, but I have a idea for one" he says reaching into his pocket and removing a piece of paper, when he had unfolded it the paper had showed a poorly drawn mermaid. "A lady drew me this and dropped it into my lap, moments later I won my gambling parlor.." his eyes looked over the piece of paper with admiration.

Orphyn took a brief glance around and sighed in relief. Whatever was ailing her seemed to be dissipating quickly. With a little sniffle, the colorful woman smiled and sits in an empty chair as an act of polite behaviour. An act of normality. She was trying really, really hard tonight to be on her best behaviour. She had already been warned twice by the man downstairs. As the piece of paper was unfolded, Orphyn reached out and took the edge in her grasp, gray-blues slowly taking in the detail of the crude sketch. it wasn't much to look at, really, but the tale that went along with it, indicated its importance. "Oh wow..." she said in an interested, yet mellow tone. "It's gotta be very lucky! You should see um... that shop in Rynvale. SoulSkin? I've heard really great things about the artists there. They could make that look amazing, I'm sure." A hazy grin is flashed as she adds, "Be careful, though. They're addictive."

Anson dimples had came into his cheeks when he gave her a smile "And so are all the other things I love in life" his eyebrows does a wiggly motion out of silliness, the man was slightly beginning to feel his whiskey from the multiple bottles he had enjoyed while playing his games. "I haven't caught your name, and I have a itching feeling that you won't tell me the truth.." a smirk formed on his lips "So what alias do you give?" The sound of liquor being poured filled the air as he topped off another double. "I am Anson.." with that the drink was drunk adding a bit more to his buzz.

Orphyn seemed to grow more docile as their conversation went on, that trace of bizarre and oddball behaviour had been quelled for the night. Yet for how long? In truth, deep down, she knew that it was just a mask. A front. Why was she so ashamed of it? Her decorated eyelids fell shut for a quick moment as a wave of euphoria washed over her body like an incoming tide. When they opened, those mixtures of grey and blue settled upon Anson and took in his features a little better. "Anson. Annnnson. Ansooooon. Handsome Anson! Peculiar name." A giggle. "Peculiar is good." The man's observation was met with a confirming nod and a smirk, her petite hand extended in offering of a shake. "You're very bright, Handsome Anson. You can call me Orphyn." It wasn't very creative, but it was her moniker. Before anything more can be said, a loud rumble erupted from downstairs- Steadmen were calling for his main runner. More than likely, she had a delivery to make. With a brief wave the woman smiled. "That would be me. Duty calls... Enjoy your night, handsome Anson!" Orphyn turned and hurried down to see what exactly the one-eyed barkeep wanted.