RP:New Mysteries

From HollowWiki

Summary: Lita and Irenic meet at the Broken Barrel, it ends with Lita recommending he come by the tattoo parlor in the later hours.

Broken Barrel

The laws of the land do not apply to this establishment, yet somehow there is order among chaos. Aged, abused by the weather, the Broken Barren Inn stands defiantly against the stormy shores of Rynvale just off the dock, but it is a place far from welcoming. The split, oak carved sign hangs sideways on only one chain, irony not quite lost in the words tarnished by rain. Through that open door barely sitting on it’s hinges, the light of a blazing fire reflects across a dingy interior made to look more wealthy with trinkets. The walls are covered with artifacts and cheap glamour from other worldly locations and ports; rusted weapons and sea-monster fishing lure, ship wheels, a gold-braided rope, the mounted bones of an aquatic creature with seven limbs, tapestries and carvings of various culture, and instruments that no one could know how to play. Centering all of this is Redbeard’s Maiden, herself: a sultry, golden-haired mermaid bust with red painted lips and a beckoning smile, caught in a net draped to the rafters. Mounted to the wall not far behind, a fish-like tail adorned by flawlessly painted emerald scales stretches out behind her. For every first tankard bought in the Broken Barrel she is afforded a salute, a custom that Simon, the bar’s general, has not allowed to die over the years. Dominating the center of this room is an impressive four-sided bar, flanked by booths along all ways, each lit by a hanging candelabra of worked iron. Gatherings of shady sailors and outlaws collect in groups, keeping the atmosphere noisy with harmonica and bagpipe while others plot their next dastardly scheme. While invited to venture upstairs, wandering toward the cellar door might earn you a few dirty looks.



Irenic strode into the inn with purpose and almost got kicked out immediately. Seems he had racked up quite the wrap sheet recently and the bartender, “Simon, was it?” He placed a sack of gold on the counter, “this should about cover it.” The barkeep check the contents and sees it's filled with gold coins and makes a surprised look at Irenic and asks him what happened to his usual way of speaking. A grin spread across scarred lips exposing white, but crowded teeth and even a short chuckle, “you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Rum, and no I don't need to whole bottle this time.” Again he earned a surprised look from the barkeep. He unbuttons just the top button on his black button up which exposes a bit of ink work peaking out. Upon opening up a small book which looks like some sort of ledger he sees the name Lita with a question mark in connection with Cal and Meri.


Lita isn't much for the fanciful in life. Good music, some laughter, maybe a dance or two. As long as she didn't have to wear shoes and could enjoy some good whiskey, she was-- well, content would be the closest thing these days. But it was close enough. Sometimes she remembered to pay her bar tab with Simon but she was good for it and she'd knocked out a tooth or two when bar brawls got out of hand. She was oddly protective of the joint and when pressed she'd been known to blame it on the fact that if Simon was ever out of a job, she'd be out of that honeyed whiskey she loved so much. But this evening she'd been dancing. Barefoot, in the usual little black sundress, hair pinned up in a messy bun, loose curls falling across her temples to frame her face. One of Cal's boys, fresh from the docks, a name she didn't remember and a face she barely recognized but he was fun. She kissed his cheek and sent him back into the crowd as she meandered towards the bar for another drink. Leaning her hip against the bar she reached a lean arm across the bar top and snagged a bottle. Simon gave her a look as he was pouring rum and she wrinkled her nose playfully at the tender. "Ice?" she drawled, and it wasn't quite a question. Simon obliged with a single ice cube in a clean glass and she thanked him, perching on the edge of the bar stool with a sighed breath. Irenic would get a brief sideways glance and a smile, dark eyes darting over the ink on his chest. She remembered art more than people. She plucked the ice cube from the glass and held it in her left hand against the back of her neck. A sigh of relief as she poured with her right hand, a practiced flourish and then she was sipping her drink, nudging the bottle of whiskey back across the bar and watching Simon swipe it away and towards the other end of the bar away from her reach. Challenge accepted. But then she was turning slightly towards Irenic again, nodding towards his ink, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"


Irenic sideways glanced at Lita as well before closing his notebook and enjoying his rum. While she was cooling off a stray lady enjoying the time just as Lita was came up to Irenic and sort of swooned at I'm while asking him to say something. He knew what this was immediately and sighed before saying in his cold gruff timbre, “something.” She frowned, his Veretian language was gone and his voice was no longer the panty dropper that she heard the first time when he was busy sulking his broken heart in the taverns. She fakes a bored look and saunters away in hopes he watching, but he wasn't as his attention was back on Lita when she asked of his tattoo. Meri asked the same and upon Lita’s close proximity she would smell her favorite scent coming from him which is typically an Avian trait. Wait, where are his wings then? He's got the extra long pointy ears, the tattoos, the height and smell, but no wings. He runs a hand through his graying dusky hair and this might bring attention to the ink peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. Once he turns his head fully to Lita she would notice one chilling silver eye looking down at her while the other is covered with an eye patch. He obliged her curiosity and unbuttoned his shirt a little more, “this belonged to a house of a royal family back on my home island.” Revealing its intricate shapes and patterns locking with each other, it was warrior-like and beautiful at the same time, but right in the middle (about where his heart lies) of it looks as if a crest shaped price of skin had been removed, tampered with, then stitched back on. That could be an interesting tale if prompted and if she peered down his shirt she would notice more ink trailing down into the shadows of his shirt. His silver eye looks her up and down, stopping at any interesting parts as he’s got; with the ink that is.


Lita wasn't so skilled at using her senses appropriately when there was whiskey involved. While she might guess easily enough he was an Avian, she'd never befriended many of the race and as such in her mind they were still categorized as 'bird-people', a throw back from her days as a human when she'd first come to Hollow. Having spent most of the last decade on the island or in Gualon, she hadn't meant many avians there either. All the same, this stranger smelled like jasmine and the ocean which was odd and intriguing all at the same time. It was the way their home smelled- just her home now- or the way it used to smell. She was about to say something when another girl approached the stranger, swooning and then nursing a bit of bruised pride as she sulked away. Lita tilted her head forward over her glass a bit, closed her eyes a beat, let the cool water from the melting ice cube drip across the newest piece in her small (but growing) collection of tattoos. It probably wasn't visible enough to see what it was but the ones on her wrists were more obvious- a black spade on one wrist and a dual triquetra on the other. Following the curve of her right clavicle is a more detailed piece, the name 'James' in fancy script and a white lily above it, as if the flower had been gently placed atop the letter and its petals were curling to protect the name. There was probably a story there but nobody asked these days so she didn't tell it. She turned her head a little over her shoulder to watch that girl sulk away into the crowd and she straightens a little, drops what's left of the ice cube into her drink and takes another drink as she shifts her attention back to the stranger, who's telling her a little more about his tattoo work. Dark eyes follow the lines and curves as the shapes are revealed, as if she might be memorizing its secrets or trying to find where it ends and where it begins. She says nothing of the crest-shaped-skin which seems to have been altered for some reason and blinks as if perhaps she hasn't noticed it at all. Maybe that's not her first drink for the night? Rather, it was his choice in words that had her narrowing her eyes slightly and leaning towards him ever so slightly, as if her next question were a bit conspiratorial. And with a little smirk curling at the corners of her lips she'd ask, "Did you steal it?"


Irenic was quiet for a moment while buttoning his shirt back up, but leaving a casual first button undone. A subtle smirk was earned towards her in her ‘secrecy’ and even though he’s done many dirty deeds (some more recent thanks to a ruby lipped lass) they were done in a distant land. He can speak freely, “in a way. Where I am from you cannot gain a higher social status if you were not born into it. I grew up-…” - in an orphanage? - being forced to steal for things he needed to survive? These are the things he doesn’t admit to strangers right away… At least not without a good amount of drinks in him, “I grew up in less than fortunate circumstances and if I wanted in the royal army then I need to… ‘Borrow’ a design of nobility.” Real ‘A Knight’s Tale’ story, I guess. He finishes off his rum, “who owns a pattern anyway.” That lone silver eye had noticed the various ink she sports and he motions to the ‘James’ tattooed on her after pulling a cigarette case from his back pocket. “James, huh? Is that the lucky guy?” Taking a guess since she was just dancing on some guy and kissed his cheek, maybe he was James. He lights his cigarette from a nearby lit candle on the countertop. And yes he said ‘lucky’ guy because yeah, Lita is a beautiful creature, duh. That lady from before must have gotten over his lack of alluring language and settles on his ‘okay’ looks since she made her way back over to Irenic and attempts to steal him by wrapping her arm around his in order to pull him over to where there was dancing. In possibly a cold, but not overly rude way about it he denies, “I’m having a conversation here. Thanks.” He unwrapped her hand from around his own arm and motioned for her to go back to having her fun while he drew a long drag from his smoke.


Lita nods at Irenic's story. Common enough, that age-old tale about wanting to better your station and a man striving to change his stars- definitely 'A Knight's Tale' homage there somewhere. Lita didn't have much faith in the ways of military happenings, having spent much of her early years (pre-vampirism) in a country ravaged by war and uprising against a noble ruling class. But, another time, place and story all of that was. Lita sputtered a little on her drink at his mention of the name James and it took her a moment to remember the name was tattooed on her skin. Definitely not drunk enough for that conversation. She eyes his cigarette from the corner of her eyes and she's about to fumble through some sort of answer when the saving grace of that woman returns and for a second Lita is grateful for the distraction, for the moment to think. In clear view of the woman she leans over, extending her right arm and with nimble fingers plucks that cigarette from the avian's lips, lifts it to her own for a smooth inhale, breath held until her lungs ached and then the flutter of a smile as she tilts her head away to exhale slowly, handing him back the cigarette just as he's shooing the woman back towards the crowd. "Not lucky enough if that's all that's left." she says with a playful tone as she turns a little more towards Irenic. And then, catching sight of that groupie-woman debating a third round with the stranger, she lifts a hand to his forearm, her touch light. "Do you dance?" she wasn't quite asking, already pulling him gently from his seat.


Irenic thought it odd this stranger puffing off the same cigarette as him - I mean what if he has mono (or Hollow’s equivalent of the kissing disease), but he was being offered his cigarette back. Taking another drag and sort of look of contempt pulls at one corner of his scarred lips, “poor guy.” Was all that was offered in a tone maybe as playful as her own and yes he was sort of flirting, but he was being lured away and being drawn nearer to the small dancing crowd. Once he stood to his towering six foot eleven height and he’s smoothing the hair back on the top of his head once more, sort of a nervous habit. Maybe he gets a sort of jealous glance from the guy Lita was dancing with before, but it goes ignored by Irenic. He had a sort of sarcastic smirk on his lips now as he mentions, “uh, no one wants to see this,” he motions about his own rather tall and athletic body frame, “in motion.” Secret is that he’s not exactly good at freestyle dancing. Yes - as a royal knight back home he learned many dancing types, but that was for stuffy parties and slow songs. Too late, he’s up there now and he does the only thing he remembers to do in such a situation, place the focus on the woman. With an unexpected grace from such a tall and gruff man he placed her hand in his own, pull her in and swayed just a few beats before dipping her. Pulling her back up he guides her to twirl around so her back was to him, but their hands still holding and again guides her to twirl away from him. This didn’t require much from him besides keeping the beat and standing still pretty much. By now Lita was probably earning the same jealous glance from the previous woman.


Had the stranger asked about the possibility of communicable sickness, she probably would have flashed him an unnecessarily toothy grin. As it was, she had made a point to usually keep her fangs hidden, preferring to let the rest of the world speculate as to her heritage. She was beautiful, sure, but unnaturally so, for a mere human. All lean muscle and soft curve, just over five feet tall but quick on her feet. She didn't say anything more about the tattoo or the reasons behind why she'd gotten it and was more than grateful for the distractions of the music and the crowd around them, the whiskey in her veins leaving the background a little fuzzy. She was used to being the center of attention. If the gentleman she'd been dancing with before was any sort of jealous that she'd stolen a new partner, she was oblivious to it. "Come on, it'll be fun." she chided as Irenic mentioned no one wanting to see his dance moves- or lack there of. A little to her surprise, he didn't duck out and slink away like some people might have, instead he was taking her hand, spinning her in a little circle towards him and then out again and she laughed at the unexpectedness of it. Hadn't expected he might surprise her. All the spinning though, probably not the best choice of action after another glass of whiskey and she reaches out to settle her hands on the insides of his forearms, using him for balance for a second as the world settles back into focus. "You're not so bad on your feet." she admits after a beat, smiling up at him. She can almost feel the woman from before who'd been swooning over him staring daggers into her skin from somewhere behind her. "Uhm, maybe dancing wasn't the best course of action. Can I buy you a drink for interrupting your evening?"


Irenic allowed her to stop the dancing and secretly thankful for her drunkenness. Call it old habits of molding oneself into a ‘knight’ as it’s hard to shake such forced patterns, but when she stopped and smile up at him he returned in his own charming smile. It could be here that one realizes that his man could be secretly dangerous in such a fluid shift from one persona to another and a subtle glint in the lone silver eye. Such a smile showed his age against the crows feet at his temples and when she offers to buy a drink he kindly escorts her back to the bar to take a seat, “I’ve been taking it easy on the liquor as of late.” He remembers drowning his sorrows and shadows in any tavern he could stumble into and raise some trouble, recently to add. He cannot remember why or who broke his heart, but he remembers the ache. “Maybe you should have some water… And maybe you can help me find a woman I am supposed to be looking for.” He flips open the book where he was sitting before as he’s opting to stand next to Lita now in case she was still a little too dizzy. “A um…” He lifts the eye patch off in order to put on a pair of narrow and square glasses which accents his birdlike features a bit making him looks rather bookly; like some old professor. “Lie-tuh?” When he looks back at her she would see the hidden eye is of a brown color and the iris a bit smaller than the silver, “do you know where I can find a woman named Lietuh?”


Lita was not drunk. Drunk was difficult to come by these days. Buzzed was an acceptable substitute and escape, though she wasn't at all as far gone as she might appear to be. She let the man lead her back towards the bar and she perched on the edge of her previous seat, grateful to find her drink still there. She lifted the glass to her lips, waving at his suggestion of water. She watched with mild interest as he produced a pair of glasses with which to inspect a name scribbled in his book. It was stranger to see her name written there. "Lee-tuh," she said, correcting his pronunciation. "It means wildflower." She sipped from her glass again and lifted a hand to snag Simon's attention, ordering him a glass of water. The tender lofted a brow at her but she motioned towards Irenic and Simon might have rolled his eyes as he fixed the drink. "She's a pretty shady sort," she continued, her words light. "what with that tattoo parlor and the people she hangs around." She shook her head, as if she approved of such a thing. "What do you want with her? Looking to get some new work done?" She nodded her chin towards his chest, where those tattoos were she'd seen.


Irenic sat himself back down now and sipped from his water. Maybe a little prick of anger because she might be ‘talking crap’ about Meri and he's come to like her. He took a moment to let it pass and it dawns on him, “wildflower… hm.” He faked a sort of judgemental sneer at the name, “kind of dumb, but hey mine isn't any better.” A quirk of a brow down at Lita while he stows his glasses away and once more covers up the chocolate colored eye, “yeah? Good. I'm kind of a shady guy, so…” He gives a subtle shrug before drinking more of his water down, “I'm not sure what I want with her just yet. I recently went through some rather painful changes which, in turn, lost my wings.” Oh how glorious they were and if she could see them she would definitely want to feel the velvety feathers of ivory, but there is nothing. “And for a while there I lost my mind, but I met a real fine tattooed woman named Meri and ended up helping her with… something. After that she told me to ask around and meet these people for some reason. That is all the information she was willing to share with me.” Maybe there have been some whispers of a monstrous looking bird with a human body terrorizing the island at night. It seems these stories have been fabricated by the authorities so they may scare people into giving them information of the beast man’s true identity. A couple of guys sitting on the opposite side of Irenic are talking about the beast and waving a WANTED flyer about with a face of the hideous birdface with one light solid eye and one shaded darker. Possibly Lita could make the connection, possibly not. This woman was being rather secretive and he could easily guess this is Lita now, but something told him he should be certain before offering any more sensitive topics with so many ears around so he lies, “yeah, might get some cover up work done. You say she works down at SoulsKin? They any good?” A subtle grin and side eye thrown at her.


Lita would never make fun of Meri. Cal, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He was the shady company, Meri was a doll. Anyway, she wasn't exactly trying to be secretive, more just having a spot of fun. She wrinkled her nose a little in distaste as he said the name was dumb. She didn't elaborate, there was a whole story behind that name she'd been given. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant when he said he'd lost his wings. Literally? Could avians lose their wings? Or was it some sort of magic? Could he fly some other way and maybe wasn't able to? There were so many questions from that one comment. But she was quiet, content to listen. "You know Meri-doll!" Lita exclaimed, recognizing the name. "Love her." She nodded at that explanation that Meri had recommended Irenic seek out others. "She's a way of putting circles together, that one." Lita flickered a glance down the bar, dark eyes settling for a moment on the pair arguing over some WANTED poster featuring a bad caricature of a bird-man hybrid. She'd heard the rumors but put little stock into things she didn't experience first hand or garner from more trustworthy sources. She finished her drink and returned her attentions to Irenic (name still unknown). She shook her head a little at his last questions. "Best in town, probably best east of Kelay, really." She shrugs bare shoulders. "What's your name?"


Irenic gave another grin, but this one seemed more mischievous than the most recent one. He almost knew Meri in an entirely different way, but he stopped for…. Reasons. The couple of guys were telling a distorted story of the first sighting where the bird man stabbed four guards before he pecked their eyes out and went to fly away, but that some of the other guards tried shooting it down and the beast flew away with fifteen arrows stuck in it. Irenic nearly choked on his water and spit it out at the ridiculousness of the tale which made him cough a few times into the inside of his elbow. He let a guffaw at Lita’s words before he winks as he said, “she sounds kind of full of herself.” Making a point to ignore the horribly told stories Irenic nodded to the door, “my name is Irenic and I need some air.” He stood up to pay his tab and would not object if she followed, “maybe I'll run into this mysterious Leeetuh.” He picked up his ledger book and shoved it into the back pocket of his black slacks.


If Irenic had asked for her name, she would have had no qualms about introducing herself to him. She shrugged bare shoulders at mention that this Lita character sounded full of herself. She took a lot of pride in her business and she wasn't about to start apologizing for that now. She was ignoring whatever tales the gentlemen at the end of the bar were weaving, never had put much stock into the fairytales the dockhands could tell one another about some monster or other. Irenic's having been disturbed by the story was a nuance lost on her perception. She lifted her glass to finish her drink and managed a wink for Simon, who was grumbling about some amount of gold she owed on her tab. She wriggled her fingers at the tender in a wave of promise to settle up soon- eventually- and followed Irenic towards the door. Fresh air sounded good. And maybe she could bum one of those cigarretes from him before he headed off to his next destination. "It was nice to meet you," she drawled as the tavern door closed behind her. "Thanks for the dance." The air was cool and smelled like salt, coming in from the docks towards the south. "Any chance I could snag a cigarette from you before you head off?" She was hopeful.


Irenic isn't nosy like some people, but he's already put together of who she is. He slyly puts a bit of gold down towards her tab as well before they head off towards the door. “Pleasure is all mine, Wildflower.” He was already pulling the cigarette case and match from his other back pocket. “No problem, you should probably look for guys shorter than I to dance with because it will look less awkward that way.” A playful subtle grin stayed on his scarred lips just as he places a cigarette loosely between his lips and talks around it after bringing a lit match to it, “sure. Here,” he flips the case open towards her and she can see a couple smaller tightly wrapped cigarettes that smell a bit… Different. He wouldn't be opposed to her taking one of those, but it was sort of a test to see if she even would. He wasn't headed anywhere just yet and if she allowed he would lean in close to her in order to light her cigarette or ‘cigarette’ with the cherry of his own. After straightening back up, “tit or tat. Now that you got what you wanted. How about you tell me why Meri suggested to seek you out?” A scarred brow is quirked down at her.


Lita snagged one of the cigarettes from Irenic's fancy case with an appreciative smile. Just tobacco. So far her dalliances with more special blends had been limited and controlled. She didn't ask, wouldn't judge. She drew a short breath on the cigarette as he leaned in to light it for her, tilted her head away from him a little to exhale a little stream of silver into the atmosphere. "Couldn't say why Meri does what Meri does. Could speculate, but that doesn't do anybody any good as I've no abilities for mind reading. Could have been because you were lookin' for ink work." She did on the shop, after all, even if Meri did most of the day-to-day running of things lately. "Unless you're looking for work or something?" She could always facilitate an introduction with Cal. Despite her usual love-hate relationship with the smoker, he was a good businessman and kept operations beneath the shop running smoothly.


Irenic grinned through smoke seeping from his lips and caressing up the sharp features of his face. He was finally getting somewhere, “hmm…. Or ‘something’.” He made a point to look her up and down because she didn't seem like the shady type. “The monster those men speak of. That was me. I helped Meri steal some things and it didn't go smoothly. Obviously,” he pointed to a poster on the outside of the wall which depicted the monster-man-bird-thing in a bit more detail. He bent a little at the waist to get a better look and he sneers in disgust, “that's not what I looked like.” He shrugged just slightly and in the back of his mind he figured this might be why whoever he fell for (memory swipe) must have seen this side of him and that's why it went wrong? “Makes sense…” he sort of said out loud without thinking. His tawny tattooed hand smoothed through his dusky hair once more, nervous habit and all. The air around them seemed to suddenly change and there was a chill within it, but it was not the weather changing. Irenic’s lone silver eye caught something, or someone, that was not there and he quickly looked away back to Lita. He wasn't ready to share this secret yet, but for now he kept his calm composure.


Lita was moving to lean back against the wall of the tavern and out of the way of people trying to get in and out of the front door. She was enjoying the cigarette, mostly staring off into the distance at nothing in particular, mulling over Irenic's tale about his heist with the Meri-doll. She saw him bending towards the poster from the corner of her eye and her gaze flickered to the poster, the cruel depiction of the bird-man-creature making her nose wrinkle slightly, more for the distaste of the poor drawing than the creature itself. "I've worked with worse." she shrugged bare shoulders at his defense that the drawing was in no way an actual depiction of himself. And she meant it. Cal was nasty-ugly and meaner than a snake when she'd pissed him off in the past. Which was like, yesterday, probably. She didn't know much about memory swipes. Though she'd had one herself in recent months, she didn't remember it (obviously) and it had drawn away her past pre-Hollow more than anything. If she felt that shifting chill in the air she said nothing of it or made no move to acknowledge it. "So what then, you're lookin' for work? Or yah just sweet on our blonde?" Not that she'd blame him for such a thing- Meri was quite a looker, after all. She was grinning up at him playfully though, taking another drag off her cigarette.


Irenic lets out a low gruff and short chuckle, “oh, no. She's got no interest in me.” He takes a drag off his cigarette and lets the air fall silent between them. Maybe if Lita was paying attention it was like he was listening to something or trying to ignore something that appeared to not be there. “Work….” He mulled over as he sort of paced about as he thought on his last noble job of queens guard for Josleen… What a disaster that was because that's just not him anymore, “yeah. What kind of work?” He inquires with the quirk of a brow and another drag of his own cigarette in his genuine curiosity, “I'm no good with art…” he mentions in case she tried to place him in that parlor.


Lita was always paying attention. She was just subtle about it, always pretending to be something and someone she wasn't, always wearing another mask, another persona. Lita would seem more interested in enjoying her cigarette and the night's view then in his pacing. She nodded at mention of his looking for work and didn't clarify that she'd asked if he liked Meri, not if Meri liked him. Another day, perhaps. She chuckled at his admission that he was no good with art. "Shop's open late, Meri and I are usually around by ourselves, could probably use some muscle lingering about on occasion." He was tall and broad-shouldered and looked pretty menacing, minus the attempt at dancing. "There's people on the docks pop in on occasion looking for an extra hand or two. I've got a friend-" she was using that term loosely. "-runs boats some days, he's always looking for good crewmen." Another shrug. "If art's not your forte, what're you good at?"


Irenic wasn't exactly different from Lita in that respect. “That I could do,” he replies to the muscle at the parlor. “I've done a lot of questionable things where I am from,” he stops pacing and leans against the wall next to her, “I used to he very good at flying. I'm pretty good with distractions. Threatening or getting information out of someone. Tracking people down.” Murder too, but that doesn't seem necessary to bring up at the moment. His cigarette was done, but their conversation wasn't and he would stay until it's complete. He flicks the but at his own feet and puts it out with the heel of his black boot. “Shady things, ya know?” his hands slip into the front pockets of his black slacks.


Lita was shrugging again at Irenic's last question about shady things. "I'm sure I don't," she managed with an easy drawl. "Either way, we can see how things go. Come by the shop sometime, we'll see what's what. I travel to Larket from time to time to get ingredients for the inks and with everything going on politically it would at least be beneficial to not travel alone, I'm sure." Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of handling herself. But appearances needing to be kept and what not. She finished the last of her cigarette and leaned away from the tavern wall to turn and mash the butt out against the wall. "I should get going but thanks again for the dance." She grinned up at him, flicking the butt of the cigarette to the dirt as she meandered towards the path away from the tavern. "And come by the shop sometime, yeah?" It wasn't quite a question and she offered him a little wink of encouragement as she went.