Warm Strangers - A Tavern Thread (OPEN)

[Philomel]

[[NON-CANON]]

She sauntered into the room, high spirits and a beaming smile on her face. This was her twentieth year - a year to celebrate, in her mind. After all, she had just begun her life, in a way. Her mother and her had broke from the brothel known as the 'Crouching Tiger', where Philomel had ended the life of the ruling pimp, a man who had cared nothing for when her mother was raped. Now the Crouching Tiger was a place run by the good woman Gosling, a whore with a good spirit and strong heart, but the important thing was that Philomel was free. Free to live her life as she wanted.

This was a time, after all, before the words 'Gilded Lily's were ever a thought. This was a time before a goddess called Drys decided to bestow her blessings on a holy faun. This was a time before power, before Shinsou vaan Osiris, before a love triangle called Astarelle and Jensen, before even Vaeron. This was a time without war, without a daughter and without anyone truly strong to call hers. This was just Philomel van der Aart and her small fox companion Veridian. This was her, fresh-faced assassin, claiming her ranks in the world of Althanas.

"Mr Ulroke!" she beamed and strutted over to the table where he sat. "Remember me? We met at that place, at that time?"

However, it was not a time before she was sexy, because that time has never existed.

The faun's eyes drifted from person to person around the table, Lye, whom she had only seen from afar and heard of really and, the more-or-less-a-stranger Seth Orlouge, who all regarded her with some form of surprise. Philomel simply smiled and waved a hand to greet them all. Reaching behind her she found a stool and she pulled it under her gorgeous butt. She threw a wink at a barman, and sat down with a tinkle of bells. In her ears were looped as many chains and dangling icons as possible, her hair was a thick mass of dreadlocks. She was proud, strong and determined and though knew herself to be lesser than some, she was there. With them.

She was one of them.

A small grumble from the ground and the scraping of glass on wood. Glancing down Philomel saw a small fox nosing over a beer to her.

"Oh thank you darling," she spoke with delight. Leaning down she picked up the beer, then the fox, and plopped both on the table without any announcement.

"I'm Philomel, but call me Phi," she grinned and gestured at the fox. "This is Veridian. We're ... Pretty new to this area. Cold isn't it?"

And she sipped her beer with extraordinary grace.