Haste Makes Waste (Open)

[Samuel Blackwell]

Sam's face remained the same mixture of confusion, distrust and surprise. The book was obviously beyond precious to her. It was worth more than anything she owned both emotionally and monetarily, but she was lost, hungry and thirsty. "Does this tavern serve anything without alcohol?" This was the deal breaker. Sam hated alcohol and was craving some decent tea with honey and milk. Although secretly she was so famished she would drink or eat anything right about now. Sam's stomach grumbled pathetically and loudly enough for anyone to hear in an ear shot. Clenching her book tighter she waited for Siriala's answer.

[Siriala]

"Does this tavern serve anything without alcohol?"

Siri puzzled over Sam's question, trying to remember just what the stallion served. She was pretty sure all they had was alcohol, but one might be able to get a glass of water there. Yes surely one must, for Siriala couldn't stand alcohol, and she had gone to the tavern before. In truth, even the very smell of the stuff put her on edge, for she knew from personal experience just how much the drink could change a person. Yet in an effort to put her past behind her, the woman had visited several taverns and pubs around the city, and had built up a slight bit of resistance to the sights, smells, and sounds. She wasn't sure if water was okay for Sam, but if she wanted something else they could always visit the Grand Bazaar. In that instance, however, Siri would not be paying, for she didn't want to be tricked out of her coin. Finally, after thinking for several moments, she spoke. "Well you'd probably be able to get water, but other than that they have ale, beer, and wine." She watched Sam for some sign of a decision, her face now molding back to its more serious expression, and waited for a response. Well she got one, in the form of the girl's stomach grumbling rather loudly. The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, in that odd not-quite smile of hers, and she added, "The food there isn't that bad, and it's whatever they happen to be serving for the day. Also, though it might not be the best thing you've tasted, their meals really hit the spot."

[Samuel Blackwell]

Sam pretended not to hear her stomach. She also feigned considering. Growing up she learned never to seem to desperate or hast to make a decision. She screwed up her face as if deep in thought. Her nose wrinkled making her look even more like a small child. Independence and being strong willed was an asset to the very core of her own identity. She was about to let a day - stomach grumble - two days without food rob her of that lone wolf mentality. "Well I suppose it couldn't hurt if I let you look at it." She said trying to act out still being undecided. "Sure, show me to this tavern."

[Siriala]

(OCC: Sorry that it took so long to respond! I've honestly been very very busy.)

Siriala could tell that she had won just by studying the girl's appearance. It appeared that she had been on the road for a while, as there was dust on her clothes (although that could have been from anywhere), and that it must have been a while since she had eaten anything. Even if the woman's assumption was wrong ,though, she was still certain that her offer would not be refused. After all, a free meal was a free meal, and even a disagreeable person like Siri would have had trouble turning that down--unless her tendency to be bullheaded interfered, of course. And so as Sam scrunched up her face to think, which made her look very boy-ish, Siri could already guess the next words that would leave her mouth. "Well I suppose it couldn't hurt if I let you look at it. Sure, show me to this tavern." The petite woman kept her face controlled, while inside her mind she did a little victory dance. It was yet another win for her, but, well, Siri wasn't exactly the type of person who counted the times she lost. And, as much as she would loath to admit it, the times she lost usually outnumbered the times she had won.

Siriala pivoted on her heels, and began walking, taking several steps foreword. Just before disappearing into the crowd she turned back to Sam, her head tilting ever so slightly as she spoke in a voice loud enough to be carried across the space separating the two. "Are you coming? The stallion is just a bit down the street. And please hurry up, it's right about the time that the tavern starts getting busy, and I want to make sure we get a table." The woman rudely began walking again, without waiting for Sam, but allowed her pace to be slow enough for her to catch up. Siriala really wanted to be there soon, for her body was starting to get very sore, and she wanted to sit down as soon as possible. After the original excitement for the book faded away, the woman began to notice the side effects from earlier, which made her feel like she had just run a marathon. For not being able to remember the incident, it was a pretty close guess, but Siri could only wonder what had happened. Perhaps it would all come back to her after a meal and some rest...

After a few minutes of walking, the two of them arrived at the entrance to the Rearing Stallion, and Siri could feel relief flood through her at the prospect of resting her legs. We're finally here. She thought with contentment, and pushed the door open, walking into the tavern.

[Samuel Blackwell]

( OOC: I completely understand I've been elbow deep in work myself. )

Both eyebrows raised on Sam's face at the site of the woman, who had only moments ago been unconscious, walking off so abruptly and quickly. Though her entire body ached from her long journey she took off after the woman. It was a simple task for Sam. After years of courier work bobbing and weaving in and out of tightly packed crowds had become muscle memory for the tiny Samuel. Her nibble feet stepped softly for someone running and lead her to Siriala's side quickly.

Sam considered making pleasant conversation on the way to the tavern but her mouth was so very dry. She also feared if she opened her mouth again her stomach might loudly embarrass her as it had only minutes before. So she kept her dusty hood over her young face and merely tried to memorize the surroundings and way to the tavern incase she needed to return there again.

Her thoughts though returned to her book. It's not that she was paranoid but it definitely was weird for someone to be so excited about it unless they had a good reason to. Still she could see no harm in showing it to Siriala and letting her read it. Idly, Sam realized the last person who had sat with Sam and looked at the book and was her father. Suddenly her mind was filled to brim with memories of the vague cherished memories she had of him. A tear cam to her eye just as they reached the tavern doors. Sam quickly tried to wipe it away before Siriala or anyone else might notice.

[Dusk]

XP Award! Siriala XP Award: Running: 1 XP, Intimidation: 1 XP, Observation: 1 XP, Negotiation: 2 XP Lore Award: Never put your bag on the ground, Your body has limits, Overreacting, Breaking the Law, From enemy to friend in less than 6 seconds, Syliras Geography (poor) Ledger: Samuel Blackwell XP Award: Observation: 1 XP, Rhetoric: 1 XP, Negotiation: 1 XP Lore Award: Saving a damsel in distress (sort of), No good deed goes unthreatened, Comedic timing (or lack thereof), Guarding your valuables, Syliras Geography (poor), Emotional memories Ledger: Pain XP Award: Drawing: 1 XP, Observation: 2 XP, Intimidation: 1 XP Lore Award: Frustration of moving models, Being distracted whilst drawing, Being mistaken for a Symenestra Ledger: Xelin XP Award: Observation: 1 XP, Interrogation: 2 XP, Rhetoric: 1 XP Lore Award: Invading strangers' personal space, Asking really rude questions Ledger: Additional Note A great open thread! Pain, thanks for watching the hijacking, it's much appreciated.