Summary: In the wake of a meeting with an odd, winged eye, Larewen and Shishi discuss their wedding plans. Shishi meets Larewen's "daughter," Latulepi.

Hanging Corpse Tavern

This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron candelabrum suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the Vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.

Lefty calmly flits into the tavern on tattered batwings. The glowing red oddity lands on the bar, deftly didging and incinerating various rolled up newspapers. Thwack! The bartender's swing strikes the counter and Lefty goes airborne again.

Larewen was seated at the bar, cigarette in one hand and glass of bloodwine in the other, when the winged eyeball floated into the establishment. A dark brow arched upward as mismatched eyes followed its trajectory, the left, silver one focusing on its appearance, which was, in its own odd why, absolutely adorable to the necromancer, while the right, a dark brown one that was sightless in the traditional way, studied the magic that animated it through augmented vision. When Steadmen swung at the counter and the eye took off, her stare followed it with amusement. She waved a hand at Steadmen, ordering him to leave it be with a brief, cold stare.

Lefty lands on a table and looks for something that he can't communicate to anyone, due to the obvious reasons. A few customers have seen him around, and ignore his presence. Others, not so subtle, openly stare and try to figure out how such a tiny creature remains in motion. Perhaps it's like a hummnigbird, but how does it sustain itself. So many questions and no answers.

Larewen held her cigarette betwixt her lips and placed her glass upon the bar, rising to follow the curious, winged eyeball. Those that did not pay attention to the floating eye's prescence may now, for it was quite an odd site, to see the Lady Dragana prowling after a flittering creature much like a child might chase a butterfly. Her curiosity was piqued, though, and she was hellbent on answering the questions that had risen on her own. A breath of magic left her, seeking to caress the odd creature with dark, familliar energies.

Lefty flickers as the dark energies swirl past and into him. He follows it back, tasting the familiar, yet unfamiliar energies. He lands near the vampire and fires a laser at her arm. It's the only way he knows how to communicate. At least, the only feasible way at this point.

Larewen had not expected lasers, and clearly it wasn't something that the establishments many wards were prepared to handle either -- that, or they knew that the winged eyeball thing was simply trying to communicate with her. Nonetheless, the stench of burned cloth and flesh, as well as a thin hiss of pain through grit teeth, applauded the attempt that was made. "Hey, now! No need to hurt me," she said, her voice almost a pout. Some of the patrons tried to stifle a giggle. When had anyone last seen the elf behaving so unusually? "Do you blink?" she asked of it, rubbing at her arm, which now leaked ebon blood. The stench of the ichor was foul with her corruption.

Lefty flickers. He has no eyelids, so this is athe best he can do. He is literally just an eyeball. No lids, no attachments. The only part that isn't strictly eyeball is the batwings he'd aquired in his travels. ONe helpful patron explains. "He does that from time to time. We're not for sure why. Stings like a bitch, tho, aye?" Lefty flickers at different levels. Dim then bright, long flashes and short dim fades and everything in between.

Shishi gently nudges the door to The Corpse open with his left shoulder. Clinging to the sleeve of his opposite arm is a well known black bat. Before the assassin can react to anyone or anything present inside the Vailkrin landmark (or purposefully avoid eye contact with Steadman), Wakka detaches himself from his vampiric mount and flaps wildly to hover in place six feet above the ground. The creature doesn't stay at Blue's side for long and, with a quick screech, swoops towards Larewen and more specifically the winged eye, looking to gnaw on it, for sure. This doesn't appear to be some kind of act to protect Green from the strange being, it is just a Wakka thing.

Larewen glanced sideways at the patron that had spoken, her brows still raised. "That so? My timing for avoiding it... He? How do you know it's a he?" Her line of thought was interrupted by the use of a male pronoun to refer to the eyeball with wings. His brightening and darkening, flickering and flashing, did not escape her. She was oblivious to her fiance's entrance, which, when he spotted her, might garner her an odd expression: she was dressed as elegant as was usual for her, with bustle gown, sleeves, hat and veil, the whole fancy getup, and yet prowling around like a child, still. A bandage covered her throat, holding in place a poultice within the still healing, still leaking, hole left by Shishi. "You, eye-thing. Shine brightly for yes, dimly for no, okay?" She waited for an answer, only to find that the creature was gone and thus, Larewen was left in a rather odd position, leaning over a table excitedly, and staring at... Wakka.

Shishi tails the bat slowly, eventually making his way towards Larewen. On his way, he exchanges a loaded look with Steadman, neither one of them seeming particularly apologetic to the other. Still, the assassin doesn't threaten the one eyed man with a quick tease of his irises changing color, so they are not back at that playful point in their relationship quite yet, at least. Wakka with his target lost drops onto the nearest table and starts trying to bite through the water stained wood instead, unsuccessfully of course. Blue catches up with what some believe is Black in disguise and drops his palm over the bat, smothering it as he leans forward onto the table. “Was that an eyeball?”

Larewen squeaked for Wakka when Shishi's hand came down on the poor winged rodent, and then her gaze raised to his own. Silence fell over her as the childish excitement began to fade somewhat. She studied him for a few long moments than reached out to free Wakka. Her arm continued to bleed as she did so. "Yes, with wings. Curious creature. Undead. Animated. I wonder how it works. I want to study it." Her other hand reached absently for the bandage at her neck, which suddenly felt a bit too itchy.

Shishi barely spares and oceanic blue glance towards the blood on her arm. The lack of fixation and the color in his face suggest that he's fed even more recently than that gruesome display which left Larewen with that hole in her neck she is still nursing. She pulls his hand up from over Wakka and the assassin manages to flick the animal’s back with his index finger as contact is broken. The bat flops, embellishing the strike and rolls feebly across the tabletop closer to Green. Blue puffs out his cheeks and stares at the bandage around the elf’s neck while listening, “Hmm… we'll capture it next time then.” he remarks, still locked onto the wound dressing, as if he's trying to peer through it to see the damage he's wrought.

Larewen eyed him as he peered at her throat and even considered showing him the wound, which was slowly improving, thankfully. She could retain her blood a bit better, at least. "Damn straight," she said and then made a face when he flicked Wakka. Her corruption was not visible upon her features at this time, and perhaps that was best for the bat, for she scooped him up and coddled him. A screech from the rafters meant that the poor rodent's flight wasn't over, for suddenly a jealous Akkaw had flown down, diving at Wakka. To Shishi, she said, "We need to set a date."

Shishi blinks a few times, “A date..?” Meanwhile the Wakkaw pairing of turns into their usual ball of wings and fur and flashing, tiny teeth. The tussle is just as epic as it normally is, which doesn't say very much, but the squeaking and flapping of the conflict is clearly on that transcends time itself. “I figured just whenever we see the eyeball again we just grab it up. You know? Tough to nail down a date.” He nods once, ignoring the bat battle, confident that is the correct response in this conversation

Larewen fixed Shishi with a stare of incredulity that only a woman can manage as she waited for his brain to process what she meant.

Shishi remains stuck in oblivion, though not from lack of trying. He has been married three times that we are aware of, so he understands the look he is getting, but it does not nudge him in the direction of the correct response. Blue eyes narrow as if he's trying to read fine print off of Larewen’s forehead. He even sounds like he is struggling through deciphering some chicken scratch when he finally takes doubles down on his original translation of the ‘pick a date’ comment, “Or… we could just… pick a day and hunt… it… down?” again the vampire nods, “Like, maybe not tomorrow, but the day after… Where would a flying eye live?”

Larewen continued to stare at him, almost gawking. Steadmen snorted as he watched the exchange, amused at the hole that Shishi was digging himself into. The few patrons that were remained and had been watching the elf's odd antics toward the flying creature stifled their own giggles. She wiggled the gloved finger that bore the engagement ring as she straightened up. By that time, Wakkaw had fallen from her hand to wrestle upon the table anyway. Still, she was silent.

Shishi ’s eyes widen with Larewen's hint and he shouts, “Wedding date!” before shaking his head at her as if to say ‘Of course. Why were -you- so fixated on that eyeball?’ Idly he nudges the inseparable knot of bat limbs away from him on the table when their struggle gets close enough for him to reach. The assassin then wrinkles his nose at the thought of the wedding itself. “What about immediately? Like, not tomorrow, but the day after?” This is the same suggestion as the eyeball hunting date, but whatever, ignore that. He then quickly adds, still cringing slightly, “Do we have to… invite people?” The last word is said with a bit of disgust as he can't, at least right now, imagine more than two or three people he would actually like to be there that have an honest chance of showing up.

Larewen continued to stare, this time her features darkening as he hinted once more at his disdain for an actual ceremony. "Are you serious?" she asked, her voice adopting a slight chill. Enough to unsettle and seperate Wakkaw, for the moment at least. Akkaw stared up at her, puzzled. Wakka saw the opening, and pounced. "Of course I want to invite people. I need a few days for that. Y'know, if you hadn't remarried, we wouldn't have to have another wedding in the first place."

Shishi pokes at his top right fang with the tip of his tongue and finally looks away from Larewen, idly glancing at the front door into the tavern. He gets the strange feeling that he might feel more like an animal in display at a zoo in front of a guest list he assumes Green will dominate. “So… not in two days then…” He lets the remarrying jab go unanswered and instead asks, “Who are you going to invite?” He overtly tips his head towards the one eyed barman, “That guy?”

Latulepi enters tavern with a unsteady sway in her step that nearly threatens a fall forward flat on her face. Alas, the girl does not and safely joins Larewen. Her lifeless gaze cranes her visage up to the vampire that brought her back, her thorny eye now free and full of little holes. Slowly but surely, one of the undead's bony fingers creepy up to grasp Larewen's hand. Her lidless gaze and nearly completely lipless mouth offers an amiable greeting..--if one could call it an amiable anything.

Larewen felt the bony fingers wind their way into her hand - the left one that had just been freed of a pair of wrestling bats only moments ago. Latulepi's sudden appearance frees Shishi of the elf's piercing gaze, her eyes seemingly lightening up as they fall upon her darling little ghoul. "Latu!" she exclaimed softly and, finally seating herself at the chair that was next to her, lifted the undead, drow child onto her lap. Her arms curled around her before her attention shifted to Shishi. "Of course I'll invite that guy, and the Houses, and my servants, and..." She rattled on for a few moments, and then changed the subject. "Shishi, I want you to meet my daughter, Latulepi." Her daughter, in the sense that she'd robbed the child from her grave, of course.

Shishi ’s hands drift towards his collar, adjusting the black necktie loosely stationed there. The disguised, psychic ward is fiddled with as he curiously watches the undead child stumble in and over to the vampiric elf. The assassin blinks several times at the ghoul while Larewen goes through her off the cuff guest list. If there was anything in there that he objects to, it won't be made clear in this moment as he's far too caught up with the resurrected drow propped up on the necromancer’s lap. “Lat…” he trails off, leaning in to more closely examine the ‘child’, “Daughter?” The vampire raises a brow and seems to ask that question more of Latulepi than of Green. Latulepi leans back against Larewen with her smile still prominent, being mindful of her Master's conversation and avoid interrupting the conversation any more than being present during it. She does note the subject her Mother is engrossed in but listens instead of speaks. It is when Larewen introduces the child that Latulepi speak. "Yes," she replies with a raspy hiss, "Latu..lepi." She enourages, though pronounciation matter letting so long as it is close. "I am her daughter. Are you my Father?" The necromanced girl replies.

Larewen answered for Shishi. "No. Not yet, at least, and when the time comes, he'll be your step-father." Her gaze was fixed upon the male as she spoke. Latulepi had been raised before Shishi's return, before Emrith, even. Latulepi was a product of Larewen practicing the magic that Daath had taught her, and as a result, she was more apt to call the missing drow the ghoul's father, for without him, she never would have been raised.

Shishi looks to Larewen to answer the question of paternity and nods along with her explanation. “Aye.” he agrees and then repeats, “Not yet.“ He still doesn't quite understand what this undead girl is, but surely he's seen stranger things walk or flap into this tavern, so he doesn't stare for very much longer. Still, this talk of daughters has his thoughts wandering towards Frostmaw and his own little necromancer stuck up there in the snow. He puffs out his cheeks in a slight pout and goes silent for now.

Latulepi turns her head up to Larewen, "Step-father.." then stares back to Shishi. "Yes, Mother." She replies, taking it without a single grain of salt. "After you and Mother talk, can we all play together?" All the other children seemed to frightened to want to play with her. Especially since on random occasions, the girl oozes a terribly ominous and imposing aura because of the magic Larewen possesses to keep Latulepi 'alive'. "Are you okay?" The once-drow asks to Shishi, noting his poutiness.

Larewen did not miss that poutiness either, and perhaps because her corruption was not active at this precise moment, lowered the ghoul to the floor. "We can play later, darling. Mother needs to talk to her soon-to-be husband. How about you go on to the House? Margret is bound to have some candied eyes for you. I could smell her making them earlier." Margret, of course, being one of the ghouls that served as a servant. "I'll be home in the morning, okay?" With those words, she'd nudge the stitched together corpse onward and watch as she left the establishment before her gaze returned to Shishi. "Unless you'd rather I go home tonight."

Shishi seems to appear from out of nowhere, spontaneously generating next to you. Shishi eventually snaps out of his Orange and Yellow tinted trance while Larewen is sending the little ghoul off. “Aye. I mean, we'll play soon. Ok?” the assassin says through a forced smile. He keeps his eyes on Green as the resurrected drow makes her way out into Vailkrin’s eternal night, so the elf will find eye contact when she finally looks his way. “I don't think so.” is his simple response, followed by a dip of his head towards the exit, which is then followed by a quick glance towards the ‘secret’ exit that he's so recently discovered.

Larewen grinned slightly at Shishi and rose from her seat, snatching the pair of winged rodents from the table and holding them closer to her chest. She doesn't seem to notice his glance toward the secret exit as she holds out her arm for her fiance. "Off we go, then!"

Shishi probably had sat down at some point since he arrived here, so he quickly bounces up out of his seat and ignores the offered arm. Instead he plucks Green up in a bear hug and hauls her and the bats out of The Corpse, Hemlock Way in their sights.

Search

RP:Who Invites People to a Wedding?

Hanging Corpse Tavern