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Cyren

Inactive Members
#1
Cyren wanders out to the mailbox of Sword Swamp, looking for news of her friends and family, hugs and kisses from her sworn enemies.

She finds this:

There's parchment: "We tried contacting you awhile ago about your low interest mortage rate.

You have qualified for the lowest rate in years..."

She looks in disgust. There's one of these for every hour of the last 13 years.

"Oh for cryin' out loud...who gave them this address!?"

She drags years worth of junk mail, solicitations and reminders of political elections long past. There are a few about sexual aids and she tilts a few of them in the fading light, squinting at them. "Damn, what will they think of next."

She sets it all on fire in the fireplace, yelling "Heads up!" up the flue to give the bats a chance to vacate.

She pokes the charred remains with a rusty sword leaning on the wall.

Sitting in the tavern alone in front of a glowing fire is nice, she decides. A few not-so-bright bats disagree and plunk into the flames, sizzling and little wings charbecuing. "Sorry, I did try to warn you. You should listen to me, that's your problem."

She smiles and takes a nap in her hammock, her lullaby the sound of the unwelcome and the mundane burning.

Aaaaah. Home.
 

LadyChina

Inactive Members
#2
Sleeping Beauty

*Juggling the phoenix fern, catapillar coccoons, a sandstone, a toad not yet closely examined and carrassed, and a totally frivilous bouquet of swamp weeds, the tavern door is shoved open by one talented hip. The smell of charred minions fills the flaring nostrils of the now alarmed woman (mostly human, well...)*

"What is going on here!"

*successful juggling ends as a sprint towards the merrily burning fire begins. A grateful toad hops into a hidey hole, the swamp weed bouquet spreads itself like a wake behind the dashing figure. Components bounce and clatter across a scarred planked floor*

"Kattah!? Dexbramah!? Oh you stupid, idiotic, entirely unworthy creatures. You've tried to blend in, haven't you? Roosting with the bats in the chimney as if you're allowed time off from doing my bidding for good behavior. Your behavior is sub par, not even median, much less GOOD."

*squealing bats with strangely evasive eyes are pulled from the fire, wings extinguished, ashes slapped off large furry backs - hard. The contents of the fire leads to a curious investigation*

"The mail! OH NO, thats the advertisment for the Tantalizer. One never knows how long its going to take to burn a core of harmony out of a big strong snake. I weep! How could this have happened? Arboc never entered the tavern, he COULDN'T have known about the Tantalizer and its place in my near future!"

*a sudden soft whisper of a snore turns sparking eyes towards a shadowed hammock. In it lies the only person that could have taken a possible pleasure away from the Lady and lived to do it again.*

"CYREN! You T.W.I.T! Couldn't you have started with the debris on the bar? Not that I don't enjoy the moldering bodies of rats and kiwi... Wake up, woman! Since you've taken my pleasure, burned my idiot minions, and I'm not in the mood to hurry the stripping of a luscious snake skin - YOU must help wile away the coming autumn evenings. DID YOU HEAR ME?"

*swings the hammock back and forth with the fury of a woman denied a Tantalizer*

"WAKE UP!"
 

Cyren

Inactive Members
#3
Cyren is very grateful her hammock is guaranteed non-tippy.

Hm.

Cyren looks up with a smile. She completely assumes this is an illusion, since nobody ever comes here except memories.

"Nice fern! Kattah will be happy you named something after him. Oh, wait. No he won't, he'll forget his name. Damn."

Cyren rubs her eyes. She starts talking to corners and leaves Lady China alone, not even offering to take something vile and offer to carry it for her. How rude.

Cyren squints. Cyren doesn't "see things" in the classical psychic sense so much as "be stupid about things" in the purely modern sense in this case, but she assumes she's the victim of a random magic jet and she sees what she wants to see. Since ranting and delusion come easy, why not go with it?

She stalks around the room ranting and knocking more stuff over, and then trips over the toad's cage, riveted for a moment by what she thinks might have been a past life connection with the trapped creature.

This woman obviously needs coffee. Maybe something stronger and on a more regulated dosage...

Having suddenly found herself on the floor, she figures out this illusion is serious and jumps to her feet, probably crushing something vital in the guts of Lady China's careful component cache.

She grins "I owe you a Tantalizer it seems."

She pouts.

"And...probably whatever I broke in your bag."

Cyren throws her arms around Lady China and says "I MISSED you!"

She tilts her head to the side and says "It's much better that it was you that woke me up. I kept having visions of Lumpinator standing in the middle of the room shouting "Grab my ass for power!" This is better."
 

LadyChina

Inactive Members
#4
Beauty Befuddled

*watches with cocked head as Cyren destroys what little order was held within the pile of moldering rat corpses and slimy kiwi on the bartop. Tries to use scientific techniques to correctly predict the exact path the stagger, stagger, drag, drag, stumble, rant, and roll of the obviously befuddled beauty. Snatches a terrified toad from his hidey hole just as the rant ends and the roll begins*

"ummm...."

*tossing the tattered and generally unhelpful minions Kattah and Dexbramah into the rafters without looking to see if their singed wings found a secure hold, her heart and arms are warmed by the welcoming cradle of Cyren's arms and lilting voice saying just the right thing*

"I MISSED you!"

"And I've missed you. There's so many stories to tell you. I've wandered the lands of such distant places...

*the embrace ends along with the beginning of an all night gabfest as Kattah and Dexbraham crash to the floor after apparently overshooting the rafters and hitting the soot blackened ceiling, thus affirming one scientific notion that what goes up, must come down.*

"Let me gather my beasts and bracken and then we can sit in the hammock and start where all things should - at the beginning of what was the end..."
 

Arboc

Inactive Members
#5
* A lone rider on a pale horse rides up the trail to the edge of the parapets. It is pitch black out. You can't even see your hand in front of your face. *

* It's still several hours till the sun returns. The horse stops just shy of a woven basket left sitting on a loose stone. Across from a large dead oak tree with a decaying toad nailed to it. *

* The rider dismounts from the pale horse and walks to the tree with the toad on it. An envelope is withdrawn from the belt of the rider, and is nailed to the tree next to the dead toad. The intinals "LC" are on the outside of the envelope. *

* The rider climbs back on the pale horse, and rides back the way from which they came. *
 

Cyren

Inactive Members
#6
Cyren tells Lady China stories of her foreign lands and travels, tales of friends who think they are enemies and enemies that think they are friends and what lies between.

Punchlines and story bits waft through the tavern and up the creosote-choked chimney.

"And THEN I was chained to a wall..."

Cyren refreshes her mead and gets some snacks.

"I cheated, of course, nobody can do that, but I got a few marriage proposals on the spot."

Cyren has little trails of alcohol and random salt-soaked bits of meat and starch going back and forth from the larder at this point.

"I said...no, no, no. If you're trying to threaten me, you need to enunciate!"

Cyren's animated conversation and hunger to hear good stories lasts far longer than the average person who might need to eat, breathe or sleep. These things are small priorities compared to catching up.

"It broke my heart, I thought I'd never draw breath again without pain."

Cyren is slowly becoming impossibly drunk and that sort of mindset termed "sloshy" to be kind.

"And THEN! And then...and then...um. What happened then. Oh oh yeah! I said...I said. Wait. No, no, HE said...damn" Her hair is in danger of being set alight by alcohol fumes and the candle dancing far too close for safety. She presses her lips together. "I forget. Your turn."

After speaking and listening in various stages of intoxication, real or feigned as it suited the story, her body finally cries "Hold, enough!" Her throat is hoarse from the dry tavern air, stomach sore from laughing and eyes stinging from the remains of tears and soot, she smiles and stretches out. The sun is rising through the dusty windows. Squinting, she spots something outside.

Rising to her feet she takes care and concentration to try to walk in a straight line. Some of her footsteps land upon the unpleasantly crunchy. She decides not to look. She'll clean up later. Later is not defined as "tomorrow" or "soon", only "not now." She peers outside the door and gathers the letter that caught her eye. She looks at it and turns it over once, then once again.

Cyren walks back in and puts the letter on the table for Lady China to peruse at her leisure, figuring it's now time to actually allow Lady China to have some leisure and not be held captive to history.

Cyren stretches out her hand and holds Lady China's for just a moment, then drops it. As always, there's always so much to say, so many ways to say it, and so little time.

She glances at the mail and chants in a childish voice. "Mail for milady. Who knows, maybe its finally that offer for a Tantalizer, then I'd be off the hook." She has enough energy left for a wink, followed by a jaw-rending yawn.

The mead bottle tips in the corner, dangerously nearing the glowing coals of the fire. Cyren is asleep.
 
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