RP:Artistic Reunion

Synopsis: One month since their last meeting, Trent finds Meri down in Gualon.

Characters: Trent, Meri

Location: Gualon Grogshop

Date: March 10th, 2014

Gualon Grogshop

Meri is sitting at a vacant table with her sketchbook open in front of her, casually flipping through the pages, studying previous drawings. For a change, there is not a drop of alcohol sitting in front of Meri. In fact! It would seem the tattooed woman is drinking tea tonight. At least Trent would not have to worry about the woman trying to get him drunk again...because we all know how that worked out last time!

Trent pushes past the door and enters the Grogshop with a casual stride, one hand pulling back the hood that normally hid his features. A quick survey of the local patrons would cause the man to discover a familiar face, his next steps aimed in her direction. "Hello Meri." he offers, a studious glance given to the book she had been looking through. "Been some time. may I sit?"

Meri lifts her gaze from her sketchbook when she hears someone calls her name. She motions to a chair next to her and then across from her, indicating that Trent could take a seat wherever suited him. “It has been sometime indeed.” And it would seem things have changed with Meri, most noticeably being the fact that her poor grammar is missing from her speech and the tattooed woman seems to be doing her best to mask that twang in her voice. “You’ve been hiding from me. I know it. Just break my heart, why don’t you.” Cue a grin, suggesting she’s not being -too- serious with her words. “How have you been?”

Trent 's brow knitted to the vocal changes; Curiosity more than concern. A light nod, a half-hearted smile, he would take the seat across from the woman. A measure of safety no doubt. "Forgive me, really. I have found work of sorts to occupy my time. I find it helps to clear my mind... and keep me out of trouble, I suppose." A light laugh. "How have you been since last we spoke?"

Meri notes that half-smile, a brow lofted but she doesn’t question the gesture. Meri knew well the reason that Trent opted to sit across from her, something she also doesn’t question. “I have been well. Work has been keeping me busy.” Meri studies Trent with a thoughtful gaze. “What sort of work did you find? Have you had any further trouble since...that night in Cenril? And what of your memory?” Way to just bombard the man with questions, Meri. Good job.

Trent finally made time to slip the satchel off of his shoulder and let it rest upon the floor. Placing then both hands on the table folded atop one another, he popped a shoulder. "Still eluding. It is quite frustrating to say the least. I am to seek council with a mage soon... perhaps their knowledge of magics will help." His eyes drifted off toward the ceiling as he thought of the most recent events to pass. "I could not say anything very dire. I was struck by a man for 'touchin' his woman' as he put it. I don't recall doing so, and if I did, it was purely..." his pale blues fall to the armored hand, "...accidental." He sneered at the thing before addressing the first inquiry. "I have been helping with cargo down at the docks in Cenril. The pay stinks, but it's honest work." This time a more genuine smile filled his face, very much pleased with himself apparently. "Ah right, how is your work going? Is this part of it, or just hobby?" he asked, motioning toward the sketchbook.

Meri slides the sketchbook across the table for Trent to flip through as he so desires. There were many things inside, some of them tattoos she has done: a bloodstained sword, a skull, a scene of a man in a red cape slaying someone in war, a more noble looking elf, a raven with a white flower incorporated into the chest. Some of them had nothing to do with her profession. “A little of both. I’ve been working at SoulsKin out in Rynvale, by appointment only, as a tattoo artist. Pay is inconsistent. Depends on who all wants to have a piece done, how big the piece is...but you know, it’s honest work.” Cue another smirk. Blue eyes trail to the armored hand. “Was that the only incident you’ve had since I last saw you?”

Trent handled the book quite delicately with his right hand, treating the thing like it could fall apart at any moment. He seemed genuinely interested in the art that he was seeing. "These are all your doing? They are fantastic, Meri. I have not seen such imaginative and creative artwork!" He looked up briefly to view the woman. "Do you find yourself with many customers? You should really advertise your work if you have not already done so. Make a name for yourself." Slowly the armored appendage began to slide toward the book. "No." It was obvious that the negative response was not for Meri as the hand quickly halted its motion. "Majorly, I think so. I still do not recall much of the incident in Cenril. So... if something has happened that were as bad, the only evidence I have is that I am neither dead nor in a cell." A teasing grin, "But there have been a few minor incidents. This cursed thing is quite a nuisance."

Meri cringes when she sees that armored hand go for her sketchbook, nervous that she would have to start her collection of artwork over for a second time. When the armored hand halts in its motion, she relaxes, making no move to take her book back from the male. “It does have a mind of its own,” the woman comments, once more letting her baby blues drop to that armored hand. It was her turn to glare at it. “I’ve advertised a bit, yet. I’ve completed three pieces for different clients so far and have a few more lined up. A few others that are curious but they have no solid concept in mind and look to me for what they should get. I think tattoos are quite personal though, so I usually tell them to come back with they have more of an idea of what they want, something that they’d can enjoy the rest of their lives because there is no removing the tattoo once I ink it.”

Trent continued to appreciate the art as he flipped through the pages. "I understand that idea all too well." he replies, a chuckle to follow. "Just to think! With more of your art upon people's flesh, you will become famous! You will be so popular that I would need even an appointment to greet you, proper! Then I could say; Yes yes, the great Meri? I know her!" A cheesey grin and something akin to a wink is displayed. Once more the hand inches closer to the book. "Don't even dare. i swear I will cut you off." It stops.

Meri tenses up in the shoulders when that hand starts to inch near her sketchbook once again. It was a cheap little thing, yes, but it had hours of Meri’s time invested into it. It wasn’t the sketches of her working out tattoos for people that she valued the most but her own personal drawings, mostly of places she’d visited around the lands. There were sketches of Rynvale, Cenril, Frostmaw and of course Gualon. “Oh please. You’d never have to make an appointment to greet me. Honestly, I am not sure I’d even want to be that famous.” Twice now that hand has moved for her book and twice now, Trent has managed to command it to stop. This leads Meri to question, “Are you controlling it better....?”

Trent stopped his browsing for a moment, his eyes darting from the metallic to the flesh. "Sometimes. I know now that it understands me. I have to catch it in the act so to speak. Sometimes it just... does what it wants." This time as Trent's gaze lowers, the cursed appendage props itself upon on all five fingers and crawls like a creepy, calculating insect toward the book. Eyes narrowed, teeth grinding, the blonde haired male prepares himself. The sharp razor-like tip of the index finger slowly teases across one of the open pages, almost taunting Meri. It surely could sense her mistrust and worry. Two taps, light and not marring the page. Carefully the tip of the gauntlet slips under the right page and lifts it so that Trent could view the next piece of artwork before slinking back off to the side of the table. A relieved exhale, smile returning, he offers, "That's good then. I like our conversations. Would hate to lose track, really. You're the closest thing to a friend I seem to have around here."

Meri most certainly mistrusted that appendage of Trent’s! It has given her no reason not to. Meri watches the hand in silence as it creeps toward her precious book, flips the page, then creeps away. “Teasing and taunting the both of us right, isn’t it?” Meri slides her own hand across the table to collect the book, more because the woman was preparing to depart than anything else. The hour was late. “I do as well. You shouldn’t be such a stranger. I’m always happy for the company.” And now that she was sober, or attempting to remain sober, the psion was better prepared to deal with any....outbursts...the male might have as a result of the cursed hand. “I should call it a night...but, if you have no objections, maybe I’ll come down to the docks and pester you there sometime?” Meri flashes Trent hopeful smile.

Trent lifted his right hand to stifle a yawn- not in boredom, but because the woman was right. It was getting fairly late. "Again, I apologize. I will make more time to speak with you." Reaching down then to collect his satchel he adds with a smile in turn, "I'd be more than delighted for the visit! I am normally there throughout the day- Sometimes into the evening if the work demands it."

Meri offers a smile toward Trent, inwardly relieved that she managed to collect her sketchbook without incident. No wrist grabbing or attempts to pop her upside the jaw. “Good. I’ll definitely come by then.” With a wink, the woman slides out of her chair and out of the Grogshop, back to the place that she resides, parting with a simple, “Good night, Trent.”