RP:Mister Coin & Queenie
Summary: Brennia meets a merchant named Niall, but she seems way more interested in his traveling partner.
OOCLY NOTE: This RP was started before Brennia’s death.
Schezerade Tavern
The first thought running through one’s head upon entering this tavern is that it isn’t your typical watering hole. It’s constructed of polished white stone, brightly illuminated by golden chandeliers and torches, along with a cosy fire located at the southern side of the circular building. The very centre of the building is where the bar is located, where a pair of lovely twin avian women take orders and hand out drinks in gold cups. There is plenty of places to sit other than at the central bar as well; cushion-topped marble chairs fastened to the floor are placed around a matching marble table, also attached to the floor so it appears like both floor and tables were hewn from the same piece of marble. Flowers of every type and colour decorate the majority of the tavern as well, giving the ambiance to the building one of comfort and lavishness. You can almost hear the sounds of birds tweeting through the large, open windows, which let in a gentle breeze to only add more to the tavern’s relaxing feel.
Brennia, her bodyguard Daermon, and her campaign manager are doing their usual in politicking through Schezerade. Her presence warm and open to any and all while she gets people coming up and getting her opinion on certain policies. Through the tavern there are whispers of people surprised that she is out after her recent attack. ‘Oh yeah did you know her bodyguard is a vampire?!’ It seems vampires aren’t entirely welcomed in Schezerade, but the fact he laid his life on the line was so heroic that they are overlooking the fact. ‘He nearly DIED!’ its seems her bodyguard is getting a bit more attention than herself at the moment and secretly she is jealous, but not for the reason you think. She allows him to be pulled away by a small group of women who were fawning over him and Corvo scowls at this before moving over to the bar. If Brennia had it her way she would pull Daermon away from this ridiculousness, but no one can know that secret just yet. She moves over to the board, alone for once and reads any recent goings on in the tavern as her wings fold tightly to her curvaceous form tucked into a deep blue womens suit - tre chic.
Niall is on a beer tour. It's like a wine tour, he reckons, without all the adult juice. For the love of Sven he cannot figure out how he ended up here though. He's scratching the side of his head, local brew tipping precariously as he does, while his other hand clutches his dusty, tattered hat. He had plenty of preconceived notions of snooty, aloof avians. Mostly his ideas came from the 'my cousin's friend's uncle once said...' ultra reliable source and what few words his father would grunt on the subject when a winged patron rolled through Kelay's beaten old tavern. The pristine and polished nature of Schezerade's tavern, in comparison to his hometown watering hole, seemed to reinforce his causal prejudice. The beer was good though. The women were pretty in a strange, exotic way. Most folk seemed nice enough too. The women of Kelay tended to be a little rounder and a much shorter. Back home, he was usually looking over the tops of folks heads. Here? Well, sometimes he was looking close enough to a man's eyes. It was strange, over all. He feels as out of place as a fox in a chicken coop now, as most give him a wide berth. It could have something to do with the careless way his travel-dirty pants were stuffed in his ancient boots. Maybe the cut of his scuffed white work shirt or the disheveled, tossed up bun look of his blonde hair. Niall will forever remain oblivious to the true reason most people are reluctant to near him, as it were. The reason answered to the name Queenie. Queenie was the overgrown neapolitan mastiff that lounged by his booted feet. Her skin was saggy and drooping, so much so around her boxy face that you could hardly see the crystal blue of her eyes, but her coat was glossy and blue grey. When she stood, which she avoided regularly, she was around 27 inches at her broad shoulders. An overgrown dog for an overgrown boy. She was lazy, drooled, and a little ugly but he'd never hear of it. To the human, she was a perfect little lady, his Queenie. His relaxed, people watching mood shifts slightly when a crowd gathers. He hears whispers of a vampire and he can't help the way his hand reaches for the dirk at his side. No harm in securing your weapons when you know a parasite is about. Brennia has captured his interest easily when she breaks away from the crowd. He lets out a low whistle to himself. He takes a long pull from his beer and let's his stormy gaze travel the length of her. She looked professional, important, exotic. Niall sets his beer aside, scratches Queenie's head, and strolls over. "Pardon miss," He clears his throat and extends a calloused hand.
Brennia glances over with deep blue eyes, oceanic waters run deep and all that, but steps aside, “oh, apologies sir.” She thought he wanted to read the public board so she quickly steps up to it and takes something down about how awful this Brennia Smyth is because of the plethora of lovers she has entertained in the past. Plump lips turn down in a grimace just before her sultry alto timbre mumbles out, “can’t they find anything better to talk about.” Taking a second glance at the gentleman and the lack of wings and how young he looks… She just called him a sir which humored only herself as she has got to be at least three times his age. A glance to Daermon just reveling in the attention while she crumples the parchment up and tosses it into the waste receptacle near the board. It was then she realized his hand was extended to her and she might have blushed, but it was only visible on the elongated points of her ears since she was wearing cover up. “Oh,” a smirk poking a dimple in one of her caramel cheeks and a half start to a chuckle at herself, “excuse my manners.” Her supple hand met his and her free hand closes fist over her heart as she half bows to him, “merry meet to you. I am Brennia Smyth, pleasure to make your acquaintance…” she was queuing him to introduce himself to her as they are meeting eye to eye in her three inch pumps. Muscle memory of politicking takes over and her warm smile spreads over those shapely lips looking dimples in both cheeks by now and exposing perfect pearly white teeth… Some call the avian charming enough, but some say she could sell a turd wrapped in foil to the queen and pass it off as the most sought after gold baubles.
Niall peers over the avian's shoulder and wings a golden brow. If he had three guesses, one and two would be that the woman who had just mistaken his introduction was this Brennia or a friend of hers. "My ma always says, 'No one knows your business like other people.'," He offers with a crooked smile. He watches her appraise him, become distracted, and finally take his offered hand. "No reason to be sorry," He gives her hand a little squeeze, a line of confusion forming between his brows at her unusual greeting. Must be an avian thing. He does his best to respond in kind with a muttered, "Merry meet," and hooks a thumb through a belt loop. He recovers smoothly enough from the foreign welcome, though. "Excellent to meet you, Brennia," Bingo, guess number one. He tries out her name and decides he likes the way it feels to say it. "Niall Coin." The human runs a hand through his messy hair, his eyes gravitating to the unusual and stunning sight of her wings. She was a looker, for sure, and two seconds of this conversation had him thinking she was probably the kind of woman who could charm a snake out of it's skin or sell water to fish. He was already here though and she was the most interesting thing in the tavern. Sven be damned before anyone would ever accuse Niall R. Coin of being a coward. "I couldn't help but notice you," He starts casually, "And I thought I'd offer to buy you a drink."
Brennia quirks a brow as he did at his unique way of talking and immediately she’s reminded of Sidd, but this guy is like his opposite. “Ma sounds like a wise woman,” she replied. Paying attention to where his eyes travel and his politeness all of which she finds it endearing, but overall refreshing. “Niall,” a nod while the new name forms oddly upon her gilded Veretian tongue (French) and some find the urge for the bard to say it over and over again. Being out of the game for some time now and never actually playing it in the first place she places his words of noticing of her as usual campaign stuff as a lot of people were noticing her lately. Another glance to the board before them and among the plethora of parchment is an eye catching poster that says ‘Vote Smyth - Unite’ to which she makes the point, “yes, it is kind of hard to miss the goings on in the floating city.” Charming smile remains as a bard student stops playing to come over and speak with Brennia, “excuse me, sir.” She gives a polite bow, “Dean Smyth! I finally found my instrument!” She was all squirmy with excitement and Brennia’s gaze finally tears from the human to her student, “you have? What is it?” Her interest genuine and encompassing, “yes! The harp!” Brennia rests a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “that is exciting, thank you for sharing that with me.” The student bows again and makes her way over to her group. Her attention brought back to Niall and he might notice it as well, that feeling of importance and really feeling listened to, “a drink will be nice.” She heads towards the bar in the center of the tavern and motions for him to follow - seems she’s rather good at calling the shots. Very independent woman, “cabernet, S'il vous plaît.” Once the goblet was given to her she loosens a button on the jacket to her suit because little did she know Corvo had been having the seams taken in so she would watch her figure, but she was already quite curvy and him and Daermon nearly fought over this once. Liberty blues glance around and she notices a dog sitting alone under an empty table as she didn’t take a seat at the bar and asks the stranger, “so, Niall… Where were you seated?”
Niall is grinning again. "That she is," He drawls, "But I wouldn't let her catch either of us sayin' so because I'd never hear the end of it." He doesn't actually know anything of politics, avian or otherwise, besides the noise that come out of Larket about some witch nonsense. A bit about Cenril and the bloody end that came of the mayor the night he was elected. But that was Cenril for you. Besides, he didn't worry about it over much. "Truthfully miss, I don't know a thing about the goings on of the city," He was much more interested in drinking quality beer and seeing a bit of the world before his family pushed him into settling with some plump faced bar girl or seamstress from Kelay and they had a million and two babies who could tend the farrier business and the Coin Brothers travelling caravans and... He was making himself feel claustrophobic down this line of thinking. A bad idea with such a gorgeous woman standing in front of him. Luckily, his inner monologue has distracted him enough that he doesn't break a sweat in interruption of an excited student and the time that followed before she accepted his offer of a drink. She leads him to a bar and he orders himself another beer, even though he has one sitting half empty on his table. He takes his turn leading, a gentle but wide hand touching her forearm as he steers them toward his table and his big ugly dog. "This is my Queenie," He taps his old boot on the flank of the wrinkled dog. She pushes air through her nose and her hanging jowls and it sounds long-suffering. Her blue eyes latch onto Brennia and her tail flops in lazy excitement. "She's a good little lady." Second nature in motion, Niall pulls a chair out for Brennia and wouldn't sit until she was seated first. It was just his way. He takes a drink of his older, warmer beer. "You teach music, bards?"
Brennia was secretly hoping that was his table because that puppy looks so large and fluffy. Big and ugly, but beautiful in her own way and even though Brennia doesn’t keep many animals she thoroughly adores them. Just like any other woman around a cute animal or baby she smiles brightly and it pokes adorable dimples in her cheeks once more, “hello Queenie. Merry meet to you my highness,” her voice rose just a half an octave, but it wasn’t demeaning and still rather soothing in that velvety alto timbre. Brennia is totally missing Niall’s adorable chivalry because his dog is just too cute and the avian has set her wine down on the table so she may kneel in front of the dog and hold her hand out. Once Queenie sniffs the avian’s hand she accepts the attention and even lifts her head up to the stranger maybe while Brennia’s long slender and well manicured fingers smooth through the dog’s rolls and folds, “yes, I can tell she’s a good girl. Whosa good girl?” The dog’s tail probably wags a little faster and boldly licks the avian’s cheek which surprised Brennia, but it seems she forgot where she was and what she was doing as a rare raspy giggle emits from the bard. It definitely didn’t fit the serious look of the Senator costume she has on and makes her seem almost youthful and innocent. “Oh Queenie, you sap,” Brennia takes a kerchief from between her wings and wipes her cheek, which also removes the cover up there, but Brennia didn’t think much of it as it was only covering the bit of hives she had from the sun. Brennia stowed the kerchief away, but pulled something else out hidden in the fist of one of her hands. She held both fists out to the dog and asked, “which one, Queenie?” The dog immediately licks Brennia’s right hand and the avian revealed she had a little cube of cheese hidden in it and Queenie lapped it up. The bard stands back up while wiping the dog slobber in the kerchief from her hand and if Niall was still waiting for Brennia to have a seat she would finally take it, “oh my… thank you. What were we saying, Ne-“ crap… She forgot his name when she got lost in his dog’s cuteness, “nnnewcomer.” She finished lamely before sipping her wine deeply, “oh, Bards. That’s right. Yes, we perform music and teach music theory, playwriting, script analysis. So on and so forth, but what I am most interested in is spells woven into a song and with the right intent, spell and notes a bard could put someone to sleep, make someone flee in fear or fall in love for a night.” Her shoulders roll up in a half shrug, “once I even projected a memory or dreamlike apparitions through song. I’ve helped a friend of mine remember something he had forgotten and -…” she stopped herself. She’s rambling again and to a stranger no less. What’s-his-Name does not care about boring bard stuff or just plain old music. She drinks deeply from her wine once more, “what do you do?” She asked genuinely interested in hopes to change the subject so what’s-his-Name doesn’t realize what a little ball of mess she is and the fact she hasn’t spoken about music in what feels like ages. Also, she hopes he says his own name somehow naturally so that when she goes to introduce him in the very-very near future she doesn’t look even more like an ass.
Niall never even noticed that he had been left standing. Hes watching in a little bit of awe as the put-together, smartly dressed woman kneels in front of his big dog and proceeds to light the entire tavern with her dimpled smile. Queenie even moves, something the lazy old girl really only did when pressed or when hungry, to return Brennia's greeting with a wag of her tail and puppy kisses. He would have moved to stop her, Bre looked so nice and professional and surely she didn't need dog drool as an accessory to her outfit, but he was smitten with watching the two. Sven, he might have fallen in love. He was sure Queenie had. She was acting like a puppy again. When Brennia finally sat, Niall followed and watched his big dog wiggle her wrinkled body closer to Brennia and settle there. He is in such a daze he doesn't quite pick up on the avian woman's stumble with his name. "Bards." He repeats, nodding and drinking his beer. He listens to the soft cadence of her voice, enamored, and tries to remind himself that he's a grown man and not so green as to fall in love with a woman after one drink at a bar. It's hard though. She's already won over his dog. "Music for all of that..?" He wings a brow. "Impressive. I've been known to have a hand with a lute but I've never done more than charm a pretty girl into having a drink or two with me. Nothing that would make you blink twice, I'm sure." He winks and swirls the beer in his bottle before answering. "I hunt, trap. Trade in meat and furs with my brothers. They own the Coin Brother's Caravan. We probably don't do much business here," He gives her a sly half-grin and gestures around the high-class tavern. "But I'm thinking of starting my own brewery in Kelay and I thought I'd travel around first. Drink some local brew and try my hand at it if I get inspired." He shrugs
Brennia glances down at Queenie all comfortable at her feet and soon enough the dog was drooling on one of her high heeled shoes which obviously look expensive, but Brennia didn’t even seem to care as she made that cute, “awww,” sound. Matter of fact she obviously has good taste, but materials don’t seem to move her like most in Schezerade. Brennia was starting to get a slight headache, the campaign day, the commotion in the tavern and lights, but she knew one thing that will make it better - letting that long thick hair down. One simple motion as she pulls a large pin free and it cascades around her shoulders on down to her waist like a midnight waterfall. His question was met with that brilliant smile again, “music, plays, poetry, comedies, recitals.” Plump lips sip deeply from her wine goblet before listening intently to Niall’s explanation, those deep blue eyes unmoving from his grey ones, but did he just wink at her? “Sounds like you have the making for a bard,” she coyly jokes with him and the raise of her glass because bards are sort of known to be flirts sometimes. “Well I think you guys should definitely try. I could actually use some more meat,” that sounded a little perverse, “I mean, the students I have doubled this semester and I don’t want anyone going hungry.” She was sipping her wine once more in hopes she wasn’t continuing to make a fool of herself. His own hopes and dreams cause the avian to sit up a bit straighter and maybe lean in, “really? That’s so exciting. Will you specialize in ales? Or stouts? Will you do seasonal flavors?” She was obviously intrigued, “I think you should do it. Do you have partners or sponsors?” Does hollow have a gofundme public board? Brennia chuckles softly and shortly, “I’m sorry… I get a little caught up when other people are talking about their passions.” Okay she was blushing this time, you can see it since Queenie licked away some of her makeup, but it got worse because Corvo walked up and asked Brennia, “Candidate Senator Smyth, I see you have made a quick new friend?” She nods and goes to introduce, “Corvo this is… N-Mister Coin. Sir Coin this is Corvo, my campaign manager.” Kind of dodged a bullet there! She leaned down and gently scratched behind the pups ear, “and Corvo this regal woman is Queenie.” Corvo sort of smirked in an amused fashion and handed Brennia a kerchief while glancing down at her shoe, “charmed I’m sure. Merry meet mister Coin. Vote Brennia Smyth….” he glances behind the tall seeming man, “if you can.” A shrug before Corvo moves on and Brennia just holds onto the kerchief because she doesn’t care if there was drool on her shoe, she will not be disturbing a sleeping angel like Queenie. That’s just a rule, if an animal is sleeping on you it’s illegal to move.
Niall's brows furrow at Queenie and her drooling. "Au, sorry-" He moves to stop his silly dog from ruining Bre's shoes, top notch lady shoes that his limited guy knowledge register only as being very tastefully sexy, but the avian seems nonplussed. He drops back into his chair with a laugh, putting his hands up in mock surrender at the pair. He plays it cool when she lets down a waterfall of dark hair, a power move in his humble opinion, and hides a smile behind a long drink from his beer. "I don't know about a bard, but I'm good for a laugh or two, a good time." He flirts back easily, an old hand at this particular game. His quirks his brow curiously at her mentioning the need for fresh meats in Schezerade. "I'll mention that to Jacob," He promises, his quick mind turning the idea over in his head and weighing the potential of longer supply lines, maybe even branching out to multiple base locations across Lithrydel. An idea to toss at Jacob, not mull over when he could be flirting with a pretty girl and talking about beer. "Stouts," He answers quickly, but grins. He leans across the table a little, long arms resting between them now casually. "Maybe, obviously seasonal flavors... I'm too easily bored otherwise. I've just got to find the right signature brew first, something new and defini-" Corvo enters their private little scene then, and Niall leans back again to give the man a nod. "Call me Niall," He says after Brennia's introduction, grinning again because of the introduction his Queenie was given. It was endearing, a little flooring, how much Bre appreciated his dog. He is relatively nonplussed with Corvo's odd parting words. ".... Nice guy," He comments after the man has moved far enough away that he feels he doesn't have to worry about being overheard. His tone suggests question, not so much statement.
Brennia leaned in a bit closer when he did and a supple hand even rested on one of his forearms, “come up with a business plan and I’ll get a few associates together to extend a loan. I’d love to get involved,” poor choice of words again, “er, help out.” Their interrupted and she leans back when he did, but when she did she tipped her goblet towards herself, “merde!” She harshly whispered to herself, “I’m sorry, Niall,” It was a short name, but that accent still played with the syllables. Her chic pantsuit was now wine stained and she’s dabbing the damp parts with a nearby kerchief. “Who? Corvo? Haha… he’s a good campaign manager.” She said gently and a bit of eye contact with a mixed expression that says ‘I cannot speak what I’m thinking right now.’ A slight shrug, “but he loves this city as I do and we hope to bring unity and more diversity up here.” It seems not all avians are stuck up arrogant arses, but speak of the devil Corvo was back, “Miss Smyth, we gotta get that stain out as soon as possible.” She rubbed her temple softly while mumbling, “I knew I should have just gotten white zin tonight.” Corvo quirked a brow, “hm?” Brennia faked a smile, something that doesn’t really hit home like that genuine one of her’s, “nothiiing. I’ll be right out.” Brennia leaned down again to as gently as possible slip her feet from under Queenies head to stand up while extending a hand to Niall, “it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance and I hope you feel welcome to frequent Schezerade more often.” She was smiling still, but slowly it turned into something real once more and then she crouched down to Queenie once more to say her goodbyes, “but not as exciting as meeting you, precious pup.” She slips her another treat after more face licking for Brennia due to the attention she was getting from the dark winged lady. Chuckling softly she stands up once more wiping the dog kisses off her face, “I’ll be seeing you, Niall.” She waves while making her way to the exit.