Out of the Frying Pan and into the Sun and Stars (Victor)

[Liandra]

Timestamp: Winter 52, 511 AV Time: Evening Who: Victor Lark Location: The Sun and Stars Tavern Liandra was enjoying the city she'd stumbled upon. Her and Kylayia had been traveling along the seafloor, when she stumbled upon a strange neighborhood that had reminded her of Charbosi. It looked like a bunch of rainbow colored orbs half buried in sand. A closer look revealed them to be buildings built out of a colorful coral. She had mixed feelings on this sight. She didn't want to be reminded of her hometown, but the sight of other seahorses made her happy for Kylayia. He could socialize, and she could explore. She saw some docks further up ahead, and assumed there to be more to this colorful neighborhood. She leaned forward in the saddle, and the pair surfaced next to a dock. She patted Kylayia on the neck, and pulled herself up on the dock. "Go find yourself a girlfriend Kylayia! Have some fun! I'll be back here in the morning my dear." Liandra entered the city, not caring to try and find a map or ask for directions. She preferred looking for herself. It had been a long while since she'd come across a proper city. There were so many colors here! She looked around in wide eyed wonder. It would be quite clear to any locals that she was a tourist. But she didn't care. The buildings, the clothing, the road, they were all so colorful, and all so different from one another. She was walking all over the streets, not paying attention as she skipped across people's paths. She was peering in the windows of every building she passed, with those large eyes of hers. Sometimes it was a shop, and she took in the strange and beautiful wares. Other times it was someone's home. She even caught a glimpse of someone changing, but she giggled and skipped away before she got herself in a smidge of trouble. She was humming a tune she didn't know. Her cheerful skipping led her toward a building that appeared to be wedged between two, much larger buildings. Who would building something there? There were no windows to peer in, but the door had a name on it. The Sun and Stars Tavern. She laughed, it seemed like such a childish name for a tavern. She had to see what it was like. She opened the door and strode in, her eyes quickly being drawn to the ceiling. Or lack there of. It appeared that the sky was overhead. Closer examination led her to realize that it was some trick of art. She stood there dumbly staring at it for several chimes, forgetting that she was in someone's establishment.

[Victor Lark]

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Victor had only recently begun to inhabit his own tavern during regular hours, having since shed himself of more pressing obligations. Though he should have appreciated this place’s slow-paced charm, mostly it bored him to wait for customers, especially so early in the night. On a good day, a small group of men would spend the night turning drunken arguments into sloppy songs, but they could amuse themselves, for the most part. It was the stool-sitters that entertained the bar-tender, and Victor seemed to think he had found one. “Wine?” He guessed, pouring a cup of the sweet red into a wooden ale mug; there were no glasses here. “It’ll take the edge off, I’m sure.”

Everybody had an edge, whether they knew it or not, be they sheltered virgins or hardened warriors. The edge was misery as much as it was inhibition. With it off, truth shone through, however silly or clumsy its form. As he pushed his latest guest’s cup across the bar to her, he used the mask of an appreciative smile to appraise her face.

At first, he had assumed those peculiar features to be a trick of the light, or a remnant of the city’s unpredictable illusions. But then he realized that the face she wore was her actual face, and the fact made his smile a little harder to hold. He wondered what she thought of it, whether she knew how different she looked, or if she was even a real person at all. The Ravokian had never seen anyone like her, and he had lived in the impossibility of Alvadas for nearly half a year. How human could she really be, looking like that?

There was only one way to find out. He spread his hands against the bar, crossing his legs behind it in a heavy lean. “What brings you?”

[Liandra]

She started suddenly at the man's voice. Her heart half expected to see a Myrian nearby, but thankfully it was just a regular man. Her large, bright eyes settled on him, taking in his foreign features. He was quite interesting to look at, it was as if her mind wanted to peg him as one thing, but then would change and consider him something else entirely. The strange man offered her wine, a beverage she'd never tried before. "The edge? Edge of what?" Liandra had very little experience with social nuances and graces, and it often showed. She grasped the cup he slid to her, looking into the crimson liquid. She brought the cup to her lips and took a light sip, enough to tease her virgin tongue. Her palate was quite satisfied, and she quickly began gulping it down, forgetting she was in a conversation. When finished, she gently set the cup down, her lips a dark purple now. “What brings you?” Liandra had no idea why she was here. "I don't know why I am here. I just arrived in this city a few bells ago. I was just looking around, when I found this marvelous place. This city is much more different than my old home. This city is called... Arvatas right? It's so... normal here. And yet, doesn't seem boring like Charbosi was. How much does this wine cost? I will gladly take another, if you please."

[Victor Lark]

Arvatas. He managed to swallow the inevitable laugh. Victor had never been very good at pronouncing foreign names, so who was he to call out her mistake?

“Something like that,” he responded, tipping the rest of the wine into a second cup for himself. He had never been too fond of the sweet red; hardly the best available to the city, it bit harder than their bitter beer and in all the wrong ways. Still he tipped the splintery mug between his lips, having set the empty bottle aside with some haste. He sighed in favor of wincing at the tang. “Four silver. Up front, if you don’t mind.”

And nonetheless, he reached for another lukewarm bottle. He was popping the cork out by the time she could pull the strings of her purse, but he would not pour until he saw the money. It was a business, after all. A humble shrug told her as much, wrapped loosely around a gracious smile. “Well this is as good a place to start as any. It’s always nice to collect a few familiar faces in a city that always changes.” It took all his will not to let his eyes wander over her peculiar face and body. “Though, yours is a little more memorable than mine.”

Victor raised his cup, laughing through a sigh. Both had already drunk, but he thought they might as well give a reason to the next drink. “A toast. To familiar faces.”