[Scholar's Demise] - Work, Shmerk!- [Chakahn]

by **Arysana** on December 1st, 2013, 1:02 pm

1 Winter, 513 AV

Sana rolled her shoulders rubbed her temples. She'd missed dusk rest, her duties as a personal assistent apparently including becoming Armitican's personal courier. Perhaps it that was all it was, then it wouldn't have been so bad - but the vain man had ordered her to dress her best when giving out the letters and deliveries, commenting about how he wouldn't have his name or respect smudged because she wasn't in the habit of brushing her hair.

Which was mildly untrue, it should be said, she brushed her hair - but only after she'd bathed and had time enough spare before a rest. Which, ironically, she never seemed to have because her boss kept loading her with work. She was almost halfway home when she saw a drunkard chuckle and stumble, and in her own frustration and blatant disregard for the fact that she was asked to come in the next day 'if possible,' decided that she might as well go somewhere nice and have a drink or two. Or maybe an entire pitcher.

With that, she turned on her heel and made way for the closest nice tavern, immensely overjoyed that the order in which she delivered the letters had her pass straight by that dark little alley way that opened up to the brilliance of Scholar's Demise. It was one of those places that she'd heard much about, but lacked the time and coin to actually see it for herself.

She'd been told about the way enough times to find the place on her own, straightening her form fitting blouse and stretching her body as she followed a small group enter, immediately taken by the area despite being told of its wonders a dozen times before hand. From the sweet smell of what ever was being served up, to the lull of music from the live entertainer, the soft lightly that gave the place a level of class, to the layout and the refurbishments themselves.

She almost immediately made for the bar, too intent on ordering something to drink to take notice of any other in the general vicinity. The woman behind the bar was horned and small of make, though she seemed to be enjoying herself. "Hello," Sana began, not too sure how to go about the exchange. The only other times she'd drunk had been in the privacy of her own room. So what she was going through was quite the experience. "I'd like something drink," she let her brow furrow as her words trailed.

"Could you please just give me the strongest thing you have?" Was that an odd thing to ask for? She didn't have much time to think on it, the Ethaefal smiling and nodding briskly, telling her something that she didn't quite catch. When it was apparent that the woman was asking for payment - or at least telling her how much she'd be set back, she slipped her hand into her purse and pulled out a pile of coin. Three and a half kina in irritating change was given, with the half kina promptly returned. With that, Sana smiled and took a seat, careful not to drink too quickly, both her mind and body finally at ease, and not too intent of wasting the short time of comfort and coherent bliss before the drink began to kick in.

For the most part, the atmosphere was soothing, though there seemed to be a number of people who had already drunken perhaps a little too much tripping about the place, earning themselves dirty looks from other patrons. She let out a light giggle as one man attempted to help up a man who was even less conscious than he was. It was a usual sight, she'd imagined, having passed enough bars to know how many don't stop when they probably should. She almost felt bad for getting so much amusement out of watching them stumble. Almost, but not quite.

by **Chakahn** on December 1st, 2013, 3:30 pm

The rim of the tankard hit Kahn's nose, the bottom side completely upended. Merely a few tasteless drops reached his tongue and he leaned forward, setting it down with a more than necessary force. He eyed the empty contents disapprovingly, wondering if his hot breath had made the majority of the liquid evaporate; the cheap amber ale had been gone in a flash.

Setting his hands on the table he pushed himself up and made for the bar, snatching up the empty mug as he went. "Fill her up, Alea," he greeted her, gesturing to the mug. He pulled out a stool directly at the bar and clambered onto it, watching her take the flagon and appreciating her absence of judgement. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was a jittery buzzkill, fully unaware of the comforts that drowning ones sorrows offered.
Glancing down, he reached into the pocket near the top of his left boot and fished out a pile of coins. He frowned at the pitiful sight, moodily acknowledging the fact this or the next would have to be the last drink for the night. He extracted two kina and laid them on the counter next to his newly refilled mug.

The Scholar's Demise was fast becoming a regular haunt. Upon arriving in Lhavit a month ago, Kahn had done little else than keep to the confines of his room at the Solar Winds, brooding. It was one of those endless cycles; being cooped up inside made him moody, but going outside would remind him that he had nothing to do in this place on his own. He had no job and the only money he owned was pouring into the Demise's profits like a quick but heavy shower of rain. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he supposed he had better do something about that but there was always another voice, dominating the logic. Not today.

Kahn wasn't made for long periods of time alone. Even though life in Endrykas had often been a battle from dawn to dusk and his dysfunctional family had given each other reason to loath each other time and time again, they were still exactly that: a family. He knew his flaws, he knew of his impulse and he wasn't proud of it but amongst his siblings he could be himself because they were all in the same boat. Not Daralyn. Or Sashi - two of his sisters had inherited their mother's calm and assertive manner and her ability to think things through thoroughly before leaping into the fray.

Things change. The dark and ominous raincloud that had loomed over his family since their father's death finally cracked, sending such tremors through his family's bond that even now, almost four years on, they were still recovering from the blow.

Kahn rubbed his temples, attempting to drown out these thoughts of past times. A trip down memory lane was exactly what he didn't want and also exactly what he was going to get. As long as no one was foolish enough to interrupt in the wrong way, the alcohol helped by soothing his muscles and numbing his thoughts. He reached for the tank, draining it in two long gulps and ordering a pitcher of the cheapest liquid, the wheat beer.
A female voice sounded next to him, making him glance up. A girl was standing fairly close to where he sat, clearly at a loss as to how to behave in a bar. A grin flashed across his face and he waited in amusement to hear her order. What would it be, wine mixed with a little water to soothe the strength?

'Could you just please give me the strongest thing you have?' Kahn let out an amused chuckle at the words, masking it poorly. His own ale arrived and he took one gulp, wrinkling his nose at the taste. He didn't know what he had expected for such a price, but he shrugged it off. Beer was beer.

He shifted in his seat, leaning an elbow on the bar surface and finding the most comfortable position possible to keep her in his sight. This was going to be far more amusing than the bumbling drunkards toppling over each other in the corner. Still smirking, he haggled silently with himself, placing bets on how long it would take for her to keel over from the liquor.

~

by **Arysana** on December 2nd, 2013, 10:43 am

"I'm going to need another drink," Sana mused all to herself, girlish giggle quick to follow. She wasn't a heavy drunk, but neither was she as light as her fine figured mother. Drinking had become something she'd take part in when she read from a book whose contents bored her, bottle of wine or whisky being her close companion until she was too far gone to read or claim herself coherent. Finally taking part in the act for sheer enjoyment meant that she felt the need to go above and beyond to ensure just that.

And by the way the two stumbling drunkards were struggling with thought and foot, she wagered that perhaps they were somewhat similar. It was about then that she lent herself to her thoughts for a moment, weaving her own tale to explain the events that had transpired to result in the brutish man flat on the floor, his thin and stunted companion trying his dear best to bring him to his feet.

Perhaps the brute was a brother, or relative from the skirts of the city. Maybe he was a widower, or a man whose work cost him a family of his own. Or perhaps it was the twig that was the marvel of the two. Maybe he'd spent much life with little to eat, what if he had just arrived in the city, his own long journey leaving him famished. What of they were seen each other after a long absence, or are usual of the place. Maybe they were in hate or love, or bitterly indifferent.

They moved closer, then, moving towards the door, passing by a candle as they did so. The rather incapacitated one was brutish indeed - he had a strong brow and greasy hair, his nose curved and piggish. Sana quickly stiffened and shuddered, her index finger quickly trailing the length of her own nose, briefly brushing against her scar, before falling to her lips. Did her nose look like that? Another mouthful of burning liquid and she shook the thought from mind.

She dropped her gaze to her drink, eyeing the cherry that bobbed and rolled around, and decided that she'd focus next on figuring out how to retrieve it. She took another sip - though it was more akin to a gulp - and then eyed it once more. She let out a hot breath as her throat burned, and rolled her shoulders. "To hell with it," she mumbled, deciding that she liked the way her words rolled off her of her tongue, how it seemed to cool the thrilling burn that ran down her throat, and that her own voice was a better companion than white noise.

She downed the cherry rather ungracefully, before another gulp meant that there was little left of her drink. It was a cocktail of some sort, that much was apparent, the tang of citrus not quite enough to mask the taste of whiskey, though Sana couldn't say she cared all that much. If anything she was thankful for it, the last thing she needed was to become so absorbed in the sights and vibe of the place to down her drink carelessly. She didn't order beer in case she'd have to fill and turn her stomach, nor wine if only because of how often she drunk it - but the extra coin and strength of her drink meant that she needed little more before her vision blurred and knees buckled.

That being said, she'd still drunk far more quickly than she'd intended, and she set down her glass and began to search for another sight to stare at while she let her drink catch up with her. She gave a look to either side of her, heart leaping out her chest as she noted that she'd fallen victim of her own game - brown eyes and blond hair turned towards her. "What?" she blurted, regretting her words the moment they were voiced. She couldn't claim it was the alcohol that fueled her outburst, even more so since she'd often react in such a blunt and sharp manner in her best of days, her temperament choleric.

There were times when she wished she was as soft spoken as her younger brother, or at least as forwardly polite as her sister. But she could never quite take pause long enough to seek a proper response. She'd ramble and rant and complain, speak the first thing that came to mind with only few things knocked down before they took form upon her lips. There was a short moment when her mind raced through ways to rectify what she had spoken, but could scarcely produce a syllable. She chose to steel herself for a retort, taking care not to let a foul look take to her features, nor anything else that would cause herself to blame for any further clamour. 'I think I'll take that second drink now.'

by **Chakahn** on December 2nd, 2013, 8:18 pm

Kahn could feel he was losing his ability to feel. The alcohol's numbing consequences were beginning to affect his movement and his cheeks were starting to flush. Despite his resolve to monitor the girl's entrance to the dark side closely, he could feel his attention slackening. For Kahn, this was normally the first tell-tale sign that he should stop drinking and call it a day - the inability to filter out background activity infuriated him.
Instead, he put the pitcher to his lips and took a deep swig, his head swivelling in this direction and that. It was still early days for the inn; most travellers and recurring guests wouldn't start trickling in for at least thirty chimes. Besides a small party huddled together in the corner who kept to themselves the only other folk was the traipsing uncoordinated duo, as mismatched in posture as they were in character. It would have been easier for the humongous lump, who had been sprawled on the floor, to drag his scrawny companion out the door than vice versa.

The more he stared, the more the strangers' faces made way for more familiar features. Hestodi's clear blue eyes were clouded, staring up into his own terrified dark ones. Their fair hair entwined, darkening from the dripping moisture that leaked from his eyes. His own shaky hands latched onto Hestodi's blood-soaked shirt, attempting desperately to shake some life into his fallen brother.
Nostalgia and remorse hit Kahn's guts and he averted his gaze, fixing it on the girl again instead. Her abrupt manner of drinking caught his attention, thankfully allowing him to forget the hustle and bustle around him. Without looking round he took another sip from the pitcher, his clumsy fingers almost knocking it clean off the bar. He watched her fish the cherry from her drink and down it abusively and burst into a short, barking laughter, not bothering at all to mask his mirth. The tankard in his hand wobbled precariously, tipping splashes of the precious mixture over the starboard side.
She turned on him in an instant. 'What?'

His laughter faded instantly, confusion furrowing his brow. Her hostility took him by surprise and he could feel his annoyance welling up, preparing to burst out. He checked himself, still in control. It wouldn't last long if she aggravated him further, but it was worth a shot; he was tipsy, not drunk. Control of impulse had always been his Achilles heel, but that didn't mean he didn't try to subdue the personality trait. "Just ..." He struggled to put the right phrase to his tongue. "Sorry about the staring," he apologised, his slurred tone matching hers. He looked her up and down, taking in her pale skin and the copper locks approvingly.
"And the cherry. You killed the cherry," he blurted, another maniacal bout of laughter burst from his mouth.

Grinning broadly, he slid off the bar stool and sidled closer to her. He groped into his boot pocket once more, frowning in annoyance as his fingers refused to slip into the inconspicuous opening. Without a second thought he bent down and gripped the sole of the heeled boot, tugging it clean off his foot and revealing the lower tassles of his moderately tight dark brown breeches. He lifted it high in the air, shaking vigorously to rid it of those pesky last kinas.
A couple of coins spiralled down, dropping neatly into the palm of his hand. "Here, your second round's on me for enjoying your drinking behaviour too thoroughly. First time?" Still brandishing the boot he offered the meagre display of currency to the girl, still struggling to keep his inexplicable amusement under control.

~

by **Arysana** on December 3rd, 2013, 3:41 am

The tightness of jaw quickly slacked, and a feeling of regret further welled in her stomach. 'Just...' she heard him trail, the slur of his words further having her unsure as to how the conversation would pan out. 'Sorry about the staring.' She blinked twice; jaw gaping like a fish for the few quick moment it took for her to gather her bearings.

She'd only just finished her drink, as strong as it may have been, so surely she was not so far gone that she could no longer even hear correctly? If the roles were reversed she'd have likely been not nearly as kind with her own response. Her eyes remained trained on the stranger's for a moment, before turning south and giving him a quick once over in response to his own action.

Seated as he was, the broadness of his shoulders and his posture had her quick to assume that although his height did towered above her own at such at length that she was uttered dwarfed; she still needed to bit her tongue to withhold a bitter comment in regards to how necessary it was for so many men to be tall. 'And the cherry,' he continued on, words no more smooth – but a different coarseness to them, hinting that common was not his mother tongue. 'You killed the cherry.' Had her cheeks not been flushed from drink before, they certainly were then. It was one thing to act rather piggish out of laziness, but it was something else entirely to be called out on it.

She noted then just how far he himself had gone, a flush to his own cheeks and certain lumber to his movements. She couldn’t say he was stone drunk, not nearly so, but she wagered it wouldn’t take much for either of them to hit rock bottom. She flinched when he made his way over to her, unsure how to proceed, frowning and ringing her fingers. She noted the length of his hair, then, along with his particular dress.

The room was beginning to get the strange feel as tipsiness began to settle in, and she almost fell herself in a fit of unsurpassable giggle as the man went about removing his shoe. Had it not been from the drink and increasing absurdity of his actions, she’d have done little more than look on with confusion. She watched him with a misplaced frown and smile as he went about his business as though there was nothing out of the ordinary, and Sana caught sight of unusual tassels, before giving him a defining once over as finally found the coin he sought.

‘Here,’ he began, the few kina making their way into her hands. ‘Your second round’s on me for enjoying your drinking behaviour too thoroughly.’ Would it be rude of her to decline? She sighed lightly and stared at the kina, pretending not to notice the enunciation that came with her slurs. She wasn’t sure how he felt speaking a language he obviously did not fall back upon, but when she herself was a child she had often not spoken due to the frivolity of her words, and how she had tried to make the common tongue sound like Nari.

‘First time?” She heard him continue, and she nodded shortly. “Is it that obvious?” The slight stumble that came with her own words had her aware enough of how much she’d drunk to not order anything so strong. “But you seem to be new here yourself, cowboy.” The curve to her lips was playful and childish, and her giggle sweet. She tried her best to be careful with her words and mannerism, only just avoiding conflict, and having no desire to rectify it.

by **Chakahn** on December 4th, 2013, 9:46 am

"Obvious? No, no. Unless of course you pay attention to the sign above your head that says 'first time'!" A short, barking laughter followed his words, which he soon realised to be his own. He turned to the slab of furniture separating the pair from the Scholar's host and shoved the newly arrived alcoholic beverage in her direction. Although the ale in his own pitcher reached just under the halfway mark, he tipped his head back and downed it in two thirsty gulps, slamming it on the surface with force. His insides would not be thanking him tomorrow morning.

The lengthy item of footwear dangled from his grip, filling the sparse empty space between them. It felt silly in his hand; she must think the lights weren't all on upstairs in his own head. Shaking his head at his own idiocy, Kahn stretched out his other leg and slid the second boot off his foot and scattered it carelessly next to the other. He kept his head down for a moment, staring down at his toes.
"Feet are strange," he chuckled out loud, flexing his toes. He wiggled them this way and that. enjoying being outside of the confines of the tight riding boot. It was much like being cooped up all day in the stuffy dome-shaped tent structures, sitting out the fuss and lectures his family had in store for him. Then, when the slightest opening appeared, he would dart out the door and accelerate his pace until his legs could carry him no faster. He'd keep running and running until he made it into the Sea, the man-high grasses raging over his head like the tide, protecting him from prying eyes and exasperated family.

He froze mid-thought, propelling his body upright without warning. He fixed his dark eyes on hers intently, an ominous glow sweeping over the irises. Had she just ... she hadn't. Had she?

"Did you just insult my horse?" he asked quietly. Common wasn't his first language, but he knew the basics well enough to distinguish the word for 'cow'. Even without the riding boots granting him the extra inch, he still towered over her, glowering down at her red-tinted hair."Because my horse - my horse is one of the finest in the country and he is not a cow." He lurched backwards slightly, the extra gush of cheap ale creeping into action, making him both unreasonable and uncoordinated. "But what would you know, you couldn't distinguish the noble horse from the pitiful cow if you saw them." He hiccuped angrily, raising his hand to sweep his long blonde hair from his face.

His system was beginning to overload. Signals from every corner infiltrated his brain, aggravating his drunken state further. He took another step back, lurching forward as he did so and making a grab for his boots, forgetting to hold on and sending one of the two flying across the room. He cursed, falling back on the Pavi tongue. "Out of the way," he snarled in Pavi, aiming his words at the two equally drunk men who had still not managed to find the exit to the world outside the tavern. They didn't hear him, of course, or understand him. He shot a reproachful glance back at the girl before turning his back to retrieve the wretched boot.

OOCKahn bought his current horse and hasn't bonded with a Cyphrus Strider yet, so he doesn't have the right to sport windmarks. It was a mistake in my character sheet, sorry; just thought I'd say

~

by **Arysana** on December 5th, 2013, 4:10 am

Regret shot through her. It was coupled with annoyance and hysteria, but it was regret none the less. Conversation had never been her strong point, and neither was apparently taking into consideration differences in regards to phrases and definitions between two languages; she lived her own childhood through a series of miscommunication, and seemed to have learned nothing from it. How bright her future seemed?

She folded her arms, fists clenched. She had half a mind to watch him leave - laugh if the thickness of the atmosphere had permitted it. But she always got a vain pleasure from proving people wrong, and making them eat their words. It was a horrid habit and pleasure she'd brought to Lhavit from Wind Reach. Eighteen years of age, almost a decade in the Jewel of Kalea, and she was yet to grow out of it.

"Do you even know what a 'cowboy' is?" She slurred, voice loud and clear enough, her once sweet smile tight as she stood blot upright and exchanged glares with a man. There was a childish candour to the way she spoke - loud and blatant and determined. "Because it sounds to me like you don't." She knew that she shouldn't have spat such venom into her words, taking her drink and taking several large gulps from her new refreshment, but she was quickly leaving all realms of logic. When was the last time she'd eaten?

She rolled her eyes and kept her gaze on the glass. "As for whether I'd be able to tell a horse from a-" She gave a short pause, a spell of disorientation taking her as she found trying to move too quickly was now out of question. "-cow... I've never seen the later in person in my entire life," She was breathless then, as though she was expounding on a great loss from her childhood. "and a horse in Lhavit is practically unheard of. Traveler's horses are kept at the bottom of the peaks - the step is far too much for 'em to get all the way up 'ere."

She rubbed her eyes as she went for more drink, considering far too late whether or not the mixing of alcohol in such a state was a good idea. The dropping and clipping of letters and words in her speech was showing that she was finding coherent speech increasingly difficult, and sung a curse in Nari. She let her head sink and tap the counter. Rather than drumming up the courage to shout an apology, she was trying to figure if the drink was enough to let the words slip from her mouth.

The final push was a look from the bartender, who although amused by the caravan wreck of a conversation, didn't seem to be pleased about the hostility of either. "I'm sorry if I offended you." She ended up saying, voice a slur and blatantly bitter - casting a look to the bartender as though she were cleaning her hands of all blame.

ooc :

by **Chakahn** on December 5th, 2013, 9:29 pm

Kahn could fee the eyes of the troop of travellers clustered in the corner of the room boring into his back. He could feel their apprehension increasing, their heads low but their eyes darting shiftily from him to the girl by the bar. He grunted, shaking his head in disbelief - any sympathy on his behalf was forfeited by the fact that they'd knowingly entered the building. If it was a peaceful evening they had been after they should not have entered the Scholar.

He whipped around at the sound of her voice, her tone and accent only corroborating his irritation. "Well excuse me for mishearing your words - you know you should work on your articulation," he slurred. "I'm not offended. I'm insulted, there's a difference." Was there? He tried defining it, the wrinkles on his forehead contracting from the effort of creating a clear train of thought. Distractions arose almost immediately, one of which being a certain familiar object draped over a wood-rimmed chair, last seen spiralling over both their heads. He snatched it up, not yet attempting to force it over his breeches; balancing on one leg was a recipe for disaster.
He could see that she, too, had risen hotly to her feet. She was neither tall nor small, if he could still rely on the depth in his eyesight. The retorts tumbling out of her mouth were extremely sharp, the brittle edge lacing them harder than he had anticipated. He felt almost outdone in ferocity - his own self was usually the heart of any emotional explosion. Obviously, he had somehow managed to strike a nerve. He scowled - cowboy, so what if it was a phrase?

"Yeah," he stated out loud, the renewed vehemence to his voice startling the entire population of the already attentive inn. "Of course I know cowboy. It just insults me is all. People don't ride cows, Drykas don't ride cows, the horse is the one you'll be wanting." He lumbered closer, closing the thirty feet gap by a few inches.
"You - you must be a city girl. By our standards, a child this high seems to be better travelled than you." His hand hovered next to his hips, demonstrating the height. "And for your information, my Sanshae managed the climb into the city just fine," he added, defending the Frostmarch stallion's honour fiercely. The words were trickling out like a gush of water now, the detached droplets at the edge of the main body equalling a few venomous syllables. Kahn's eyes narrowed further, observing her closely for a clenched jaw or perhaps a taut muscle; anything that hinted at a victory.

"Will that be all or is there anything else you wanted to share?" he spat, sarcasm dripping from his words in an almost visible sticky goo. As he spoke, the hurried scraping of wood against wood sounded close to him, followed by the hurried footfalls of a party of people eager to leave. He turned in time to see the corner-group scuttling out the door. He was almost insulted by their inability to stomach but a little verbal sparring and yet, their ability to simply get up and leave prickled at his jealousy.
He pointedly turned his back on the girl, busying his mind by thinking up ideas to get the pair of drunk idiots out of the vicinity, too. As far as he was concerned, there was no place here for folk who could not control themselves.

OOCDon't worry, "cuiusvis hominis est errare" (Anyone can make a mistake

) And thanks, I had myself a little giggle about Sana just blurting out WHAT too - it's so relatable ahah
A little action sounds good, Kahn and I eagerly await your move

~

by **Arysana** on December 6th, 2013, 3:55 am

One after another the words came, some riling her and others left her seeking more drink. She cocked and eyebrow and let her jaw go slack as he babbled on about the apparent difference between offense and insult. She couldn't blame him for that little spur, the common tongue was one ruled by context, and many words held multiple meanings. It was a pain of a language, and she was glad she learned it when she was young enough not to complain and read too much into its strange rules. At least, they were strange coming from one who had grown up on Nari.

She was still bitter that her mother tongue had fallen into such disuse so early, that she could no longer claim fluency. She figured she only needed to exercise her memory to bring it all back, but standing tipsy in a bar was neither the time or place. She was brought out of her tried little stupor as he furthered on his apparent knowledge of 'cowboys,' a dizzied smile of disbelief taking to her lips. If she could get him talk about it when she wasn't trying to recall which was right and left, she'd be able to claim victory from that little round.

She blinked several times and make quick of the small about of drink that remained, burping as the fizz of the beer settled in her gut. Yep, mixing drinks was a horribly bad idea. Of course all her joyous notions of victory were put on hold, the bitter twist to the Drykas' words about her being a 'city' girl having her lip curl. She was quick to quell the movement, eyes following through lazily to the gesture that accompanied the insult.

She opened her mouth to fight the comment, and instead went on a little bout of complaints under her breath - only fulling coming back to the world when he spat his final comment. "Anything-" she hiccuped, bitter herself from being pulled from her sour thoughts. "Else?" She tried to straighten her posture, fumbling at her purse as she ensured it was secure, or at least as secure as she could hope to make it.

There was a numbness to her that came with drink, much faster when there was little in her stomach to begin with, and when the words spat at her were finally fully protest, and she was sick and tired of her little her body seemed to be working in terms of coordination. "Don't call me a city girl, Mr 'I'm Not a Cowboy'" A fresh flood of anger then hit her, she'd never thought that someone mistaking her heritage and missing her slight Nari twang could make her so pissed off; she wanted to dent that pretty little face of his. She probably couldn't, but it was worth a try - In drunk-logic, that is.

She'd seen enough of the world to know that Lhavit was possibly the best there was to offer, from the harrowing sea she'd crossed to the gnarled woods and coasts of The Unforgiving so briefly seen on the journey. Wind Reach had its beauties and marvels, and though she'd miss the cliffs and heights for until she next saw them, the misty peaks of Lhavit were nothing to look over.

"Come on," she slurred through gritted teeth, following after a break in the flow of people leaving the bar. "Come 'spar' with me - we're disturbing the peace." She then turned curtsied in mock pride of the accomplishment, almost losing her balance and falling, before continuing on and shooting him a look, one not akin to what she'd been given herself. Gardens were plenty among the city, and if she recalled correctly, in her state of drunkenness, there was not too far down the alley. "Unless you want the Shinya to come out of hiding," she said, kicking the air and she sauntered out, the venom in her words unmistakable. "I suggest you hurry up."

She liked telling herself that she preferred to use violence over words, but sometimes you just really want to punch the guy.

oocNot so much as a beginning move as a shift of scenery - and a lovely pretense of a 'spar.' That whole pretense also helps remove all the 'never hit a woman' awkwardness that I've seen happen a lot in bar fights. Plus, grass is soft! :3

by **Chakahn** on December 6th, 2013, 5:05 pm

Kahn felt like half of what he was saying was sliding into her one ear and zooming unprocessed out of the other, if her responses were anything to go by. It was incredibly frustrating - why couldn't she just pay attention? He sat through her loud protests against being a city girl, nodding in agreement at the latter part of her sentence. It was true - he was not a cowboy.

Her failed attempt at a satirical curtsey was getting close to the cherry on top of the cake. Or should he say, her drink. But then, she'd slaughtered that one so she was essentially knocking off her own head with her anger. Her apparent eagerness to trigger his anger was as perplexing as it was efficient. He rubbed his pounding temples, astounded by confusion she was sowing in his head. If his ears had not deceived him, she seemed to be inviting him to a sparring competition. From under his lashes, he watched as she detached herself from her place by the bar and disappeared from view, the tail end of a few strands of her copper hair billowing back through the doorway as she flung open the exit and stepped over the threshold.

Without a snitch of hesitation, Kahn traipsed after her, shutting the door behind the both of them with a resounding crash. The irregular surface of the road dug into his bare feet, lapping hungrily at their warmth. He stood there for a moment without moving, his body temperature draining more with each passing gust of wind. Portions of his own fair hair drifted across his face and latched together, creating couplets of tangled knots every minute.

"I'm sorry, are you actually challenging me?" He was incredulous, a scornful look settling on his face. He quickened his pace to overtake her, planting himself in front of her and barring her way. He wanted her to look him in the eye and rethink that invitation, when she would have to raise her head and look up to do so. He wanted her to be fully aware that even in his drunken state, it was a fight she wouldn't win. Unless she cheated of course, in which case he was in for a nasty shock. Although he narrowed his eyes, glaring, he really wasn't in for a fight today, not if he could help it.

He twisted her words in his head, mocking them. Come on, come spar with me. Up close, her breath was unpleasant. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of alcohol, vaguely realising his own must be just as delightful. He brought his hand close to his face and breathed on the whitening fingers, lifting them further to sniff them tentatively. He shrugged his shoulders, dropping them again and deciding that the urge to pee was more pressing by far than any other feeling right now. He checked himself - you really shouldn't pee after drinking too much; once you started, it seemed as if the entire Suvan Sea needed out.

"Dancing around outside is far more likely to get the Shinya's attention than some back-and-forth conversation inside the Scholar, city girl," he hissed through chattering teeth. The winter cold stiffened his jaw, making it just that bit harder to pronounce the Common words. "And do you honestly think that if I started, you would walk to tell the tale? I've been in more brawls than you so I know what to do with myself, but can you say the same?" He laughed his short, loud laugh, not amused any more in the slightest. He thought wistfully of the mug of warm ale he had been sipping peacefully before she had entered the bar and dragged him out here with her. Curses, curses, whyever in the name of Zulrav had he followed her out?

~

PM to join [Scholar's Demise] - Work, Shmerk!- [Chakahn]