RP:Death of Busty McBoobs the First

From HollowWiki

~Outside Kelay Tavern~


Ayras is just exiting the tavern, having finally had his fill of the worthless banter that tends to go on within its walls - and a pointed lack of any useful information that he can send off to Frostmaw. Clad in his armor, it's a somewhat intimidating figure, and more than one person moves to the other side of the street to avoid him and his bladed body, perhaps fearing impaling themselves upon the vampire. He, however, simply stands a few strides outside the door, looking first left, then right, trying to decide whether to return to the city in which he is Knight-Captain, or to continue on elsewhere in search of information that might benefit his Queen. Or even to feed, for that matter; surely there's a hamlet out there somewhere for him to perform the deed for which Satoshi nicknamed him. "Decisions, decisions," he grumbles to himself, his wings ruffling in agitation behind him.

Mahri hasn't any particular destination in mind. She is simply wandering aimlessly and thinking about patronizing that most distasteful of taverns. Pressing her lips together, Ayras will probably catch glimpses of her hunched against the sheating rain. The lycan is drenched and fighting against the wind carried by..a hurricane. With water streaming from her hair and plastering the cotton shirt against her surprisingly feminine form, Mahri pauses just out side the Tavern, undecided and staring at Ayras through narrowed eyes. She, however, only sees his lips move and doesn't hear what's said. Deciding getting out of the rain is the best plan thus far, she dashes under the eaves of the Tavern and shakes water from her hair, sending droplets flying in every direction. Not that it'd be noticed with the amount of water falling anyway.

Ayras surprisingly isn't very perturbed by the torrential downpour, though the rain does soak his hair, as well as play a bit of a staccato melody as it collides with his black-ice armor. Strangely enough, it's the sound of hair flapping around as though shaken by a dog that catches the vampire's attention; the smell that would likely normally strike Ayras' nose is certainly drowned out by all the moisture. And so the red-haired avian turns to regard the lycanthrope, a brow lofting and his head canting slightly to the side, only his armor preventing a full tilt. "You mortals go out in the strangest weather. It is a wonder you people make it past your first years."

Mahri draws waist length hair over her shoulder--the shaking was useless--and wrings it out instead. Lifting her silver-grey eyes to Ayras, a mocking smile curves her lips. "Good t'ing I ain't mortal t'en, eh?" Wringing out her hair is a little difficult when one hand is missing a thumb. Giving up, Mahri lets it drip as it will instead. Sniffing out of habit, the lycan faces the road and glares at the storm, as though that alone would dispell the fury of nature. "Damn weat'er. Ain't fit for man nor beast, if ye ask me--an' ye didn't." Glancing back towards the Avian, there is something vaguely familiar about him. Maybe it's the hair, or the wings. Shrugging off the feeling, Mahri cants her hip and rests a hand on the curvature. "Ye waitin' out t'e storm, t'en?"

Ayras turns his own brilliant silver gaze to the storm and shakes his head. "No, I am simply trying to decide whether or not to head back home our out for something to drink." He neglects to mention that that something would be blood, and thanks to the mask of black ice over the lower portion of his face it is impossible for the sight of his fangs to give such a notion away. "I don't mind storms in the least, really; my typical training partner puts me through worse. Blizzards and the like. And I've conjured worse, minus the waterworks."

Mahri doesn't take her eyes off the male, preoccupied as her mind is with placing where she'd seen him before. The only flash of hair that shade of red comes along with the memories of a fight at the Corpse. One that left her more injured than she'd been in a long time. Gods, it sucked she owed the Fold for healing her. The bastards. Anyway, her bottom lip catches between her teeth as she worries at it, that is..she chews on her lip til finally, "Kelay ain't t'e place t'get a good drink. T'e Corpse is quiet most o' t'e time, an' I hear Frostmaw ain't bad eit'er." Not that she's been there that often. Once or twice, but not enough to form an opinion.

Ayras chuckles, the sound coming out a touch more menacing through his mask than he intends. "I prefer not to drink in Frostmaw. The Snow Maiden wouldn't appreciate it if I did, and we would lose knights, likely. Not to mention I'd be out a job." His eyes turn off towards the path to the other city the one-thumbed lycan mentioned, and he shakes his head. "As well, a city full of corpses does nothing to sate my thirst, either. I prefer the living." The living, he says. One knowing him would know what he means, but in the case of a stranger, it can easily be mistaken for meaning the company of the living. At least, it could be until what he says next. "Blood loses its appeal when it has already coagulated."

Mahri arches a brow, at least a small piece of the puzzle falls into place, "T'en maybe Kelay is t'e place fer ye."

Ayras turns where he stands as he shakes his head, his eyes settling on the lycan's own. "I have to hold off on taking my meals in Kelay, for a time. I can't afford to leave too many corpses behind in that place." He taps at the amulet hanging over his chest, an amulet adorned with the emblem of Frostmaw upon it. "It would not do well for Frostmaw's Knight-Captain to earn the city such a bad reputation as to risk Satoshi's political alliances."

Mahri hmms softly, bringing a finger up to tap at her previously gnawed upon lip. "What about Cenril?" She seems inordinantly helpful, doesn't she?

Ayras cocks his head the other way, his eyes rolling upward as he ponders the port city. "Cenril...Hm. I've never tasted their fare. I suppose it would be a change from Larket lasses. A good change, perhaps, considering Satoshi solidified ties with Larket's queen recently. So maybe I will feast there, tonight."

Mahri uses the back of her hand to wipe water from her nose and shrugs, "Was jus' a suggestion, but aye, a sound one at t'at." Pressing her back against the facade of the Tavern, the lycan folds her arms across her chest. It seems, she's rather oblivious to just how soaked she really is.

Ayras eyes the woman as she leans against the tavern, a brow lofting upon his forehead at the sight of her. If it weren't for her lycan blood, he may very well have become flirtatious, from the look of her - or, at least, what her plastered clothes show. As it is, she -is- a lycan, and so his gaze eventually moves to the street before Kelay Tavern, watching people rush by in a hurry to get out of the storm. "Who are you, by the way?" he asks rather blatantly, not at all mincing the fact that he has no clue who the woman is.

Mahri isn't oblivious to the look, she just ignores it. Working in a tavern, she's used to the leers and jeers by men, living and dead--or undead. "Mahri, no' t'at it matters much, does it?" She obviosly didn't think it did. "An' you would be?"

Ayras hefts his shoulders, and the action alone brings worried looks from women rushing to protect their children as those sharp spikes rise and fall. "Ayras," is his simple reply. "As for your name mattering, if I ask for a name, I have a reason."

Mahri draws her gaze up again, to regard Ayras with a decidedly bland expression. "T'en, I guess ye 'ad a good reason." Stepping back into the rain, her almost dry shirt once again soaked and clinging, the rather smallish female tips her face up the pounding rain and closes her eyes. "Fecking Gods an ye temper tantrum! 'Ow's a woman suppose' t' sail in this Sh--" a crack of thunder interrupts that and many other colorful words before her tirade is finished. Hollaring over the sound of rain and wind, the lycan looks back at the vampire, "Ye comin' t'en?"

Ayras nods and steps into the torrent, motioning for the woman to take point. "Sure. But you'll have to forgive me if I prefer to trail new people. One never knows what they may be up to."

Mahri is suspicious of his real motives but still she'll lead the way.

~At the Whaler's in Cenril~

Mahri pushes the door to the Whaler's open, only to have it ripped from her hands by a gust of wind. Not an easy thing for the lycan to accept readily--pride you know. Grumbling a few choice words under her breath, Mahri leads the way into the bar. A buxom blonde showing off entirely too much cleavage-in Mahri's opinion- looks up from behind the bar. "Well now, ain't you a sight, Miss! My Da's yet to come in an' this storm don't bode well at all." Coming around, she offers the lycan a towel before turning sultry eyes onto the figure behind the dark haired woman. "An' I see you brought a guest," the barmaid practically purrs. Brushing past the she-wolf, Blondy holds out the towel to Ayras, "Anything else I can do ya for, Sir?"

Ayras eyes the girl as he simply brushes past her, not bothering to accept the towel she intended to hand him. He moves towards Mahri, his strides even taking him past the woman, but even as he moves he looks down to the lycan, his eyes meeting hers before flicking to the blonde, then back again; his silent warning to be clear of the cleavage-showing girl when he decides it's time to eat. "This is the first time I've been in this part of Cenril, even from the few times I've been this way," he tells Mahri, making small talk to perhaps make his prey not at all suspicious. Of course, -he'd- be suspicious if he saw someone in his armor, and masked, come into a bar he ran. But that's besides the point.

Arcos watches the two enter, his sanguine eyes trailing over Mahri first before the venture over Ayras's vampiric form. Arcos knew this avian was vampiric for just one reason, but that reason was obvious. Had he not seen this man feed upon a mortal with his own eyes he might not have even noticed. Bringing his glass of vodka to his lips, the mortal dark avian sat back in his chair, waving at the lycan idly. "`Ey, you get that thing I sent cha?" He calls out from across the room.

Mahri knew better than to interfere with another's hunting and rolls her eyes up at Ayras in answer. "Ye should try it more often. New experiences never killed anyone." Of course, killed sounded like kilt. Snapping her head towards the dark avian, the lycan nods, "Aye I got it. Soon's the weather clears we sail."

Mean while Busty is trailing after Ayras like kid in a candy store. She did like them tall and dangerous and he fairly oozed danger. Mahri watched with amusement as the girl tries to get his attention, "Ah, can I get you somethin'? A drink, food..warm bed?"

Ayras furrows his brow as he regards the pair, the dark avian and the lycan. Sail, she had said, and this brings curiosity to the vampire's mind. "You are a sailor?" he asks the dark-haired lycan, his eyes quickly flicking to Arcos afterwards. "And he as well?" He shakes his head, tsking. "But what am I asking? We are in a port city. Most would be sailors, I suppose." It's as the blonde girl vies for his attention that he lifts his hands behind his head, unfastening the back of the plate mask that covers the lower half of his face, removing it from his head. "Perhaps I'll have a drink in a moment," he says to the girl, shamelessly flashing her a crooked grin. "Perhaps you'll join me?" Little does the blonde know that if she accepts his offer, it will be the last offer she'll ever get the chance to see through.

Arcos tilts his head to the side as he continues to watch the vampire out of the corner of his eye. "Aye-Aye, just wondering. You look the type to stare danger in the face a laugh at it. Didn't want to end up in a wet grave because of it." He smirks in spite of himself, drinking the contents of his drink before he placesit upon the table before him.

Busty, as Mahri has mentally dubed the overeager bar maid, flashes a toothy smile at Ayras before dipping a curtsey, designed to show off her more than ample charms to the best of their advantage, "Of course, Sir. I would love," long and drawn out and higly suggestive, "to join you." But first, she had other duties to perform til the tall male called her back. Mahri has to bite her cheek to keep herself from guffawing at the obsurdity of it all. She had brought Ayras here to feed after all. So long as he, "Don't kill 'er," the lycan warns in passing, finding a good place to sit.

Mahri said to Arcos, "I do, when it doesn't also involve t'e lives of ot'ers."

Ayras simply flashes a mischevious smirk Mahri's way as he goes about wandering about the tavern for a few moments, letting the wolf-woman and avian speak with each other. He looks over the sea-farer's goods turned decorations, and the items held within the nets. But soon enough he's simply searching for a seat that's off to itself, a seat with few - or more preferably, no - witnesses around it. Somehow, he lucks out and finds just such a seat, and just as he goes to seat himself is when he calls Busty McBoobs over.

Arcos said to Mahri, "That's very admirable of ye, captain," He says as he rises from his chair to move forward, "Mind if I join you?"

Mahri watches as Ms. McBoobs bounces and flounces her way to Ayras' table, practically laying across it in a 'do me' buffet. Coughing to cover the burst of laughter that threatens, the alpha is thankfully distracted. "Aye, o' course." Her foot finds the edge of a chair and shoves it out. Nothing like good ol' hospitality. Across the way, that Mahri's doing so well at ignoring, Busty purrs, "What can I get ye, Sir?"

Ayras flashes that grin of his again, somehow hiding those fangs of his in his lip as he gives the woman a suggestive look. "Perhaps a bit of company for a few moments," he says to the poor, oblivious girl. Poor Mahri, as well; the effort for a warning that Ayras is likely not going to listen to when it comes time for his drink.

Arcos nods as he takes a seat by Mahri, letting his gaze follow the busty woman before his attention returns to the lycan, "Sure, you laugh, but the blutsauger is just making her lazy." He motions over his shoulder at the vampire as he brings in his prey, "Good luck getting an order from -her- now." He smirks again. "Can I buy you a drink...? Y'know, assuming she makes it back."

Simpering and twittering, Busty practically ~pours~ herself into Ayras lap. Wrapping her voluptuos self around the vampiric avian, she stares deeply into his eyes, she hopes, in a suggestive manner. "Do you wanna do it here, or go upstairs where I have a very, very nice room. There's the back ally too if you're that type."

Ayras chuckles what is surely assumed to be approval as the voluptuous girl slides into his lap, arms gingerly wrapping around her body, the vampire trying his damnedest to keep from stabbing her with the bladed spikes on his armor. "Oh, I'm quite content with here," he says, purring himself as he begins kissing at the girl's neck. He bites lightly, not even hard enough for his fangs to pierce her flesh yet. His eyes, however, do not share the lusty attitude he's portraying. No, his eyes, they keep a close watch on the girl, watching her reactions, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move.

Mahri follows the path that McBoobs takes and lets out a sigh. "Ah, no. She won' be comin' back." Resigning herself to the fact her request is going to be denied, the lycan flags down a rather haggard looking bus-boy. "You, are going to need t'get the day girl t' take over." Her tone brooks no arguement and the boy runs off. A few minutes later, a brunette, just as well--rounded--as Busty appears. "Lawd-a-mighty," she curses, tying an apron around her middle and coming to the table with a waiting lycan and mortal avian. "What c'n I get ye folks." "Rum," is Mahri's answer.

Blonde and stacked back there puts on the performance of her life, even if she doesn't know it. Making all the appropriate encouraging noises, Busty tilts her head back at ~just~ the right angle. "Sure you don' wanna go upstairs? Won't cost ye much.."

Ayras still wears a grin, but it has taken on a different look entirely. Like a feral hunting cat he appears at that moment, what with the blonde not looking at him. "Oh, I'm quite sure. It's much more of a thrill down here with everyone else around." Back to her neck he goes, but this time it's not just his head that moves. A hand snakes upward, coming around from behind the girl to clasp firmly over her mouth to muffle any screams she may produce as his fangs sink fully into her throat, her blood quickly flooding into his mouth.

Arcos nods his head slowly. "Aye, make that two." He says to her before he shoos her along with a motion of his hand impatiently. "This is such a great bar," he says sarcastically, "But at least they wash the mugs here." As his the vampire and his prey fade from his mind, he brushes a strand of jet hair behind his ear. "So how long you think this storm will be keeping us on land? I'm no expert, but it looks like a doozy."

Mahri's nostrils flare as the copper-sweet smell of freshly spilled blood reaches her. The slight stiffening in her seat the only outward sign it got to her. Swallowing convulsively, she downs the rum as soon as it gets to the table, "Another." And while that's being brought, Mahri gives her best guess, "A few days, t'en clean up." Behind her, the scream is muffled, though some think it a sound of ecstasy instead of terror. Trapped, Busty can only really clutch at Ayras armored shoulders.

The scent of blood fills the air all the more as the girl clings to his right shoulder, those spikes cutting into her flesh and spilling perfectly good blood. But Ayras hardly cares at that moment, feeding as he is. More and more of the blonde's blood is taken into his mouth, the girl's color fast draining from her skin. Paler and paler she gets, and weaker and weaker her grip on his shoulder gets until her hand can do nothing more than flop down onto the seat. Though he truly worries of no threat of the girl screaming at this point, Ayras keeps his hand over his mouth as he works to drain every last drop that he can from McBoobs.

Arcos watches Mahir's reaction to the event, her nostrils flairing as they took in the scent of blood. Arcos couldn't smell the blood, but he knew was taking place behind him. As he lifts his glass to drink the rum inside he smiles darkly to himself. Death really was a sweet melody once you got used to it. He slams an empty glass on the table and orders a second also, deciding to pretend that nothing happened. He only hoped that vampire was finished. After all, who would serve drinks if the second barmaid was drained?

Mahri downs the second glass just as quickly, sucking in a breath to chase the fire down to her belly. Busty is done for, kaput, no more. A drained back of ..well, you get the idea. She's no longer moving let alone breathing. Mahri, for her part, is glad. "Ah, so." she clears her throat, "Ye can be ready in a fortnight? Maybe sooner?" A glance over her shoulder then, to make sure Ayras was cleaning up after himself.

Ayras pulls his fangs free once the life leaves the poor girl in his lap. He uses a hand cloth left over at the table to wipe the blood that seeped from Busty's hand, and then to clean the wounds on her neck before he sets her in the seat next to him. He can hardly move the girl with blood on his shoulder guard, and so he goes about cleaning that, as well. Once done, he ignites his hand with lightning for a brief moment, not even long enough to be noticed but still long enough to incinerate the rag. Only then does he pick up the girl, carrying her in his arms as though she merely fell asleep. He talks to one of the staff for a moment before nodding and disappearing up the stairs, reemerging a few moments later alone and wearing a smirk. However, seeing Mahri still occupied with her business, he makes his way back to the chair he had been sitting in.

Arcos said to you, "Aye, and sooner if need be. Between you and me, I like work on the land better anyway." He pauses to shake his head as he is asked for a second drink. "So, in the meanwhile, if you need somebody that can hunt somebody down, keep track of thier movements, and possibly kill that person, I'm your avian."

Mahri took the time to watch Ayras until he disappeared up stairs before returning her attention to Arcos. "So, ye fash yeself an assassin.." the lycan murmurs behind a fresh tumbler of rum. With a more conservative..sip..Mahri lowers the glass. "So if ye like workin' on land better. Why'd ye take t'e job on m' ship? It pays well, aye, but ye shouldna be doin' what you don' like." Sitting back in her chair, ankles cross under the table, "Oh, an anot'er t'ing. I ain't t'e captain neit'er. I jus' own the bitch what needs sailin'."

Ayras perks his ears, having heard mention of an assassin. Over his shoulder he looks, his curiosity peaked, but as of yet he still does not join the pair. No, instead he listens from where he sits, his pointed ears more than capable of eavesdropping from all the way over where he is.

Arcos clears his throat as he shrugs. "I like the gold. I go where the gold goes and I do what the gold tells me. If the gold tells me to learn to sail and to get on a ship then you can bet yer ass that I'm going to learn how to sail." He inhales slowly as his sarlet eyes stare into the empty glass before him. "And you might not be the captain, but if it's -your- gold that fills my pockets then I'm following -your- orders. I don't need to know much else."

Mahri stares at Arcos, and damn it, she purses her lips together and does her best not to actually like the avian. Fecking.."Aye, well. T'at's a good outlook, it is. An' it's my gold t'at will be linin' ye pockets. Five hun'red a day. Meals an' drink provided." Pushing her chair back, the lycan pushes her fingers through hair now damp and in need of a serious combing. The tangled mass still drips at the ends, but that's what the staff was for, right? Cleaning up messes. The new McBoobs looks over towards Ayras and asks in a tired voice, "Need anythin' sir?"

Ayras smiles up at the replacement for the now retired Busty, politely shaking his head. "No, thank you," he says to her, looking as though nothing out of the ordinary happened. Of course, for him, nothing did. "I believe I'm quite set, for now." In fact, he even rises after that and makes his way over towards Mahri's table. "Thank you for bringing me here," he says to the lycan, setting a hand on her shoulder as he looks down to her. "I believe it has sated me, for now."

Arcos allows his gaze to lift from the table to the vampiric avian, his hands moving to rest on the tabletop. Arcos almost smirks at his words. He ponders for a moment what his opinion was on vampires he shrugs. "To each thier own," he supposes, muttering to himself.


Mahri glances up in shock at Ayras before flashing a dimpled smile at the vampire. "Oh, aye. Anytime. Jus' don' mention it." Literally, she meant not to mention it, any of it because once McBoobs the First is discovered to be dead..well..it's hard not to remember the vampire and lycan. "Ye stickin' aroun' a bit?" Flicking a gaze towards Acros, Mahri suddenly has one helluvan idea. "Acros, ye can track anyt'ing? Better'n a were would ye say?"

Ayras flicks his eyes towards the stairwell; McBoobs the Second almost goes upstairs to check on McBoobs the First, but Ayras manages to holler for her before she can. "A round of rum for the three of us, hm?" he calls, and the new bar maid looks far from happy about having to go get more drinks. "For a bit, yes," he finally answers the lycan, his hand lifting from her shoulder.

Arcos watches as Ayras keeps his little secret a secret for a little bit while longer by distracting the barmaid and ordering a round of drinks. Letting his head rest against his palms he looks over to Mahri nonchalantly. "I wouldn't disclaim such a thought but it is not unheard of. Sure, my methods of investigation are differnt than I were's, but I would not discredit them. I do a fine job finding people using information rather than tracking using scent." He smirks. "Though, it'd make my job a hell of a lot easier if I could sniff out my marks, I admit."

Mahri manages to not make a big deal of the hand upon her shoulder, given not many actually go out of their way to be so casual around her. Happy for the round though, it serves a double purpose, the alpha-bitch settles more comfortably in her seat. "Sparrow, I'll give ye an extra t'ousand if ye can find a Preklek goin' by t'e name o' Triyul. Don' kill him, I jus' wanna know where he is."

Ayras doesn't yet take up a chair, instead waiting for the bar maid to deliver the trio of drinks. She is, however, taking her sweet time, and it leaves Ayras wondering just where she got to. He has half a mind to go look- but ah, there she is! He almost grins, but something is off about McBoobs the Second. She seems far too stressed, her eyes wide, and Ayras can hear her heart beating a million miles per second from the table. She whispers to the bus boy, and what she says causes the vampire to frown. Again his hand drops to Mahri's shoulder, though his eyes don't follow suit; those silver irises are locked on Busty II, who keeps flashing worried looks their way. "We may want to-" The bus boy goes upstairs. "Yes, we definitely want to leave."

Mahri frowns at Ayras. That's the second..well no time to quible about Mr. Touch-feely here being..well..touchy feely. Getting up from her seat, Mahri edges around the table saying to Acros, "A. Sparrow..yeah, jus' find Triyul an' ye get a t'ousand more gold. Keep track o'him an' I'll pay ye double." Snagging at Ayras' arm, and hopefully not impaling her hand, she mutters or hisses whichever sounds more pissed, "I told ye no' t'kill 'er ye ass."

Arcos glances over as just before he prepares to rise. "You are correct about that..." He looks to Mahri for a second as he feet push against the floor to scoot his chair back. "I'll find out where this Triyul is. I'll find out where he sleeps, what he eats for breakfast, and... when he's alone the most." He looks over in the direction of the stairs and rises. "Now, if there is not anything else to discuss..."

Ayras has little time to do other than give a departing nod to the dark avian as Mahri starts dragging him out of the tavern. Lucky for her, she does, indeed, manage to -not- impale her hand on his bracer, though the whole ordeal of her yanking him out has him chuckling. "I didn't see you complaining before this," he almost mutters. Almost. He still manages to be audible, though.

Mahri said to Arcos, "Nothin'. Will be seein' ye later."

Arcos nods his head as he makes bee-line for the door. He didn't need to get involed in this mess so he found it best to leave sooner than later. "Aye, I'll be seeing you then." And then the avian is gone, possibly out to gather information for the lycan.