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The drinks? No, there're different kinds. Wine, ale, mead, ciders, stuff like that.
There's stronger stuff, too, but— you probably wanna steer clear of those till you get your tolerance up.
I can buy you a drink, if you wanna try. We can see if they've got ciders – you probably won't hate that.
There's stronger stuff, too, but— you probably wanna steer clear of those till you get your tolerance up.
I can buy you a drink, if you wanna try. We can see if they've got ciders – you probably won't hate that.
[ He exhales softly, something approaching a laugh. ]
Cider it is, then. If they've got it.
[ He pushes back from the table, standing and plucking up his tankard. He moves to the bar, and quiet as the evening is, Peter has to call out a polite, Excuse me, before an older half-elven woman appears from a back room. She smiles, apologizing for the wait, and Peter orders their drinks.
The woman moves around slowly as she plucks up the tankard and retrieves another. "It's my hip, you see. Can't move around quite as fast as I used to." Peter only smiles polite and offers a sympathetic hum. Once the two drinks are poured out – another ale and a fresh tankard of cider – the woman hands them over, but not without offering Peter a stern look.
"You take care of that young lady with you," she says. "Nothing funny, young man. I've got my eye on you."
But she pats his hand as she putters away, leaving Peter slightly bewildered.
He returns to the table with the two tankards, handing the cider off. ]
There you go. Give that a shot.
Cider it is, then. If they've got it.
[ He pushes back from the table, standing and plucking up his tankard. He moves to the bar, and quiet as the evening is, Peter has to call out a polite, Excuse me, before an older half-elven woman appears from a back room. She smiles, apologizing for the wait, and Peter orders their drinks.
The woman moves around slowly as she plucks up the tankard and retrieves another. "It's my hip, you see. Can't move around quite as fast as I used to." Peter only smiles polite and offers a sympathetic hum. Once the two drinks are poured out – another ale and a fresh tankard of cider – the woman hands them over, but not without offering Peter a stern look.
"You take care of that young lady with you," she says. "Nothing funny, young man. I've got my eye on you."
But she pats his hand as she putters away, leaving Peter slightly bewildered.
He returns to the table with the two tankards, handing the cider off. ]
There you go. Give that a shot.
[ It's funny, how Yan can go from perfect, immovable patience when tracking prey to finding herself bored as soon as she isn't presented with entertainment. It's the animal part of her, she thinks sometimes: a need to be stimulated, to keep life interesting.
(Maybe that was why she so often sought human music and stories, why she looked beyond her solitude for culture and charm – anything she could enjoy at a distance, without ever having to get too close to someone else.)
She watches Peter from the table, resting her chin on her forearms as she observes the kindly matron fetching their drinks. She lifts her head, curious, as the half-elf gives Peter a little pat before sending him on his way with their drinks.
Hm. Odd.
Yan perks up properly when Peter returns with the tankards in hand, and she accepts the cider with an air of intrigue. She lifts the mug to sniff at the liquid, and the scent of sweet apples fills her nose. There's a bitterness at the back of it, the bite she identified from the ale, but it's much milder.
More tolerable.
She remembers her manners with a soft, "thank you," before she takes her first sip.
As opposed to the ale, she doesn't immediately recoil from the drink. She swallows with a thoughtful expression, blinking a few times as she considers the flavor. ]
Oh. [ Just "oh." ] That's much better.
[ And she smiles as she takes a longer, proper sip. ]
(Maybe that was why she so often sought human music and stories, why she looked beyond her solitude for culture and charm – anything she could enjoy at a distance, without ever having to get too close to someone else.)
She watches Peter from the table, resting her chin on her forearms as she observes the kindly matron fetching their drinks. She lifts her head, curious, as the half-elf gives Peter a little pat before sending him on his way with their drinks.
Hm. Odd.
Yan perks up properly when Peter returns with the tankards in hand, and she accepts the cider with an air of intrigue. She lifts the mug to sniff at the liquid, and the scent of sweet apples fills her nose. There's a bitterness at the back of it, the bite she identified from the ale, but it's much milder.
More tolerable.
She remembers her manners with a soft, "thank you," before she takes her first sip.
As opposed to the ale, she doesn't immediately recoil from the drink. She swallows with a thoughtful expression, blinking a few times as she considers the flavor. ]
Oh. [ Just "oh." ] That's much better.
[ And she smiles as she takes a longer, proper sip. ]
[ He takes his seat again, watching as she inspects the drink. It's almost cute, how interested and fascinated she seems, how she sniffs at it with care. (Much like an animal would, he supposes.)
When she doesn't immediately spit the drink out after her first experimental sip, he huffs out a breath, amused. ]
Yeah. Figured that'd be less likely to make you barf.
Pace yourself, though. Drink it too fast, and you might end up swinging on the rafters.
When she doesn't immediately spit the drink out after her first experimental sip, he huffs out a breath, amused. ]
Yeah. Figured that'd be less likely to make you barf.
Pace yourself, though. Drink it too fast, and you might end up swinging on the rafters.
Once.
[ The answer is immediate, and completely without shame. ]
It was a while ago. They wanted to see who could make it from one side of the room to the other without touching the floor.
[ He takes a sedate pull from his tankard of ale before adding, ]
I fell on a table in the homestretch.
[ The answer is immediate, and completely without shame. ]
It was a while ago. They wanted to see who could make it from one side of the room to the other without touching the floor.
[ He takes a sedate pull from his tankard of ale before adding, ]
I fell on a table in the homestretch.
Edited 2019-09-23 08:35 (UTC)
[ He tilts his head from one side to the other, face scrunching a little. ]
A little of both. Five silver buy-in. Whoever could do it first won the pot.
Needless to say, we all got kicked out before anyone could manage it.
A little of both. Five silver buy-in. Whoever could do it first won the pot.
Needless to say, we all got kicked out before anyone could manage it.
[ He looks thoughtful for a second, as he casts back to that particular memory. ]
No, I'm pretty sure we used the pot to bribe the local guard so he wouldn't call in back-up to arrest us. I think the pot ended up being something like 50 or 60 silver, so honestly, he made out like a bandit.
No, I'm pretty sure we used the pot to bribe the local guard so he wouldn't call in back-up to arrest us. I think the pot ended up being something like 50 or 60 silver, so honestly, he made out like a bandit.
[ He glances over at her tankard before lifting a shoulder in a shrug. ]
Yeah, sure, why not?
[ He pulls the tankard toward him before lifting his own again. ]
I’m gonna guess you don’t wanna give this another shot, huh?
Yeah, sure, why not?
[ He pulls the tankard toward him before lifting his own again. ]
I’m gonna guess you don’t wanna give this another shot, huh?
It’s not always about the taste. ‘Sides, this is what I’m used to, and it’s cheap.
[ But he takes a quick sip from Yan’s tankard; it’s a decent enough cider, and while he normally has a sweet tooth, the drink is a little sweeter than he prefers.
He slides it back to her. ]
Not bad.
[ But he takes a quick sip from Yan’s tankard; it’s a decent enough cider, and while he normally has a sweet tooth, the drink is a little sweeter than he prefers.
He slides it back to her. ]
Not bad.
[ He lets out a quiet hum, as if to say, That's not too surprising. ]
Makes sense. I mean, you don't wander into civilization too often, right? And I don't think I've ever seen pastries or candy growing on trees or bushes.
Makes sense. I mean, you don't wander into civilization too often, right? And I don't think I've ever seen pastries or candy growing on trees or bushes.
[ He lets out a surprised sort of laugh. ]
Seriously? What, do they just leave sweet rolls hanging from a tree branch, hoping someone will find that totally normal?
Seriously? What, do they just leave sweet rolls hanging from a tree branch, hoping someone will find that totally normal?
[ See, he was expecting her to tell him how ridiculous he's being, that, no, of course the fae don't just leave cakes sitting atop bushes, that surely they were more subtle than that.
But, apparently not. Though the explanation she provides is a little more sinister than he expects. ]
... Huh.
I've never heard that before.
[ Which is somehow both a surprise and not a surprise. He's heard about the big stuff, the stuff that gets whispered in bars, the stuff that gets whispered from wizened adventurers to fresh ones, but it's a big, weird world out there, and it's impossible to know everything there is.
If it were, then he'd probably be out of a job. ]
But, apparently not. Though the explanation she provides is a little more sinister than he expects. ]
... Huh.
I've never heard that before.
[ Which is somehow both a surprise and not a surprise. He's heard about the big stuff, the stuff that gets whispered in bars, the stuff that gets whispered from wizened adventurers to fresh ones, but it's a big, weird world out there, and it's impossible to know everything there is.
If it were, then he'd probably be out of a job. ]
Sometimes, it's just because they think it's funny. The spells aren't very dangerous – like they might give them hiccups for a week or turn their skin green.
But some put them in a deep sleep or make them go blind. My mother taught me about them when I was very young, so I wouldn't accidentally take something.
[ At least her mother helped with her more basic survival needs – how not to stumble into the wrong place at the wrong time. ]
But some put them in a deep sleep or make them go blind. My mother taught me about them when I was very young, so I wouldn't accidentally take something.
[ At least her mother helped with her more basic survival needs – how not to stumble into the wrong place at the wrong time. ]
[ His expression turns sour. ]
Sounds about right for fae.
[ They were tricky bastards at the best of times, even when one managed to catch them in a charitable mood.
He takes another slow pull from his tankard – he's trying to take his time, because even if he had mentioned he was trying to get a nice buzz on, he'd also rather not risk tipping too far in the wrong direction. They have work to do in the morning, after all. ]
Can I...
[ An awkward pause, then he presses on carefully, ]
Can I ask how you lost your mother?
Sounds about right for fae.
[ They were tricky bastards at the best of times, even when one managed to catch them in a charitable mood.
He takes another slow pull from his tankard – he's trying to take his time, because even if he had mentioned he was trying to get a nice buzz on, he'd also rather not risk tipping too far in the wrong direction. They have work to do in the morning, after all. ]
Can I...
[ An awkward pause, then he presses on carefully, ]
Can I ask how you lost your mother?
[ The question catches her off guard (because it makes her realize that she's never told anyone before; the only reason the exorcist's boy knew was because he was there). Her chin rests on the edge of her tankard again, propped up on the large drink, and she looks down at the woodgrain of the table by Peter's mug and his hands. She watches his fingers, rather than his face, when she speaks. ]
People will hire exorcists, sometimes, when they think a huli jiing has taken hold of a man's heart. They think we've used part of our own spirit in our magic to steal their vitality, like they have to cast us out to break the spell.
[ She glares at his hands, holding her own tankard a little tighter.
But—
Right, her mother. ]
It was... fifteen years ago, I think. We were staying near a village, in this old temple, and a merchant's son saw my mother when she was trying to catch one of his family's chickens. She got caught in a trap, and she had to transform to escape. Like that knight, he fixated on her, and even though she ran, she kept hearing him every night. But after a few days, she said something changed about what she could hear – like he was feverish or delirious – so she went to see him.
His parents called for a healer, and the healer gave him medicine to try and make him forget my mother, but it was only making him sick. She tried to go back a second night, because she thought her magic could keep him alive, but an exorcist was waiting for her.
He chased her back to the temple where we were hiding, and he took her head while she was trying to find me, to tell me to run.
People will hire exorcists, sometimes, when they think a huli jiing has taken hold of a man's heart. They think we've used part of our own spirit in our magic to steal their vitality, like they have to cast us out to break the spell.
[ She glares at his hands, holding her own tankard a little tighter.
But—
Right, her mother. ]
It was... fifteen years ago, I think. We were staying near a village, in this old temple, and a merchant's son saw my mother when she was trying to catch one of his family's chickens. She got caught in a trap, and she had to transform to escape. Like that knight, he fixated on her, and even though she ran, she kept hearing him every night. But after a few days, she said something changed about what she could hear – like he was feverish or delirious – so she went to see him.
His parents called for a healer, and the healer gave him medicine to try and make him forget my mother, but it was only making him sick. She tried to go back a second night, because she thought her magic could keep him alive, but an exorcist was waiting for her.
He chased her back to the temple where we were hiding, and he took her head while she was trying to find me, to tell me to run.
[ He listens silently, thankfully knowing well enough that his color commentary is absolutely not welcome at this point. He doesn't expect her to offer as much information as she does – mostly because he's accustomed to dealing with cagey people, who would only offer up the bare minimum or would summarily tell him to fuck off, if they felt he was prying too much.
So he sits and listens, elbows on the table and a hand curled loosely around his tankard, his thumb running along the tankard's lip. He grimaces as she describes her mother's murder, and he's quiet for a second, digesting this information. ]
How did you manage to get away?
So he sits and listens, elbows on the table and a hand curled loosely around his tankard, his thumb running along the tankard's lip. He grimaces as she describes her mother's murder, and he's quiet for a second, digesting this information. ]
How did you manage to get away?
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