The Sword and Staff [All Welcome]

[Amari]

"Philomel." Scarlet said evenly, she hadn't seen the faun since the Crystal Sword debacle, and the day that Shinsou had died. She regarded the matronly faun with scelera black and crimson eyes. If the faun was shocked at Scarlets appearance she didn't show it. She must have seen the call for help from the fae, for she picked him up.

"You know he's an adult." Scarlet mused, as she placed her elbow on the table and her cheek in her hand, passively watching the scene unfold before her. With her free hand, Scarlet simply rose her glass to Philomel. If the faun wasn't going to bother her, Scarlet saw no reason to instigate anything. Why should she? She was here to wait out the rain. Not to stir trouble. Besides, if she remained....amicable toward the faun, perhaps her and her boat of whores would leave the Seventh Sanctum well enough alone, Thaynes above would know that Philomel would have a field day if she knew how Lye was acting lately.

The emotionless assassin glanced around the rest of the tavern, her eyes landed on a familiar blue haired catgirl. So Madison let her free after all. Her eyes narrowed, Scarlet was sure that Madison kept up her side of the bargain, and that the little bitch would have no recollection of how to get to the sanctum. Eteri's eyes met Scarlets and she immedietly hid behind the man she was with.

Good. She remembered the time in the sanctum at least. So she knew not to fuck with her. No point in approaching her either, Scarlet had no desire to interact with anyone here. She turned her eyes toward the other glass of Firewhiskey. Normally, she was able to hold her alcohol quite well, but the few sips she had taken from her own glass had her feeling oddly ill. What a waste... what a waste....

[Cards of Fate]

Okay, enough was enough. Vince was right there, and Amari had the fucking GALL to waltz up and take Fenn. It was fine, he was fine, he could keep an eye on him right from where he was sitting and if she so much as hurt a hair on his head Vince would show up and-

And there he goes again, this time the faun had him. The scholar rolled his eyes and downed his drink. "Gimme a sec Y'all, gotta go rescue Fenn." He rose from his seat, cracked his neck, and FLASH he disappeared and reappeared in front of Philomel.

"Hey there, long time no see!" He shot her an award winning smile. "Thanks for saving my friend there, but if you don't mind could I have him back?" He motioned for her to hand the small child over.

[Philomel]

Philomel blinked and stared at Vince.

"Oh it is you. Cane boy," she gestured with her free hand at the came in the young man's hand. Always present, always part of his flamboyant attire.

She shook her head and using both hands lifted Fenn onto her shoulders. "This man here is my new friend. You do not need to rescue him from me to rescue him from bitch-tits."

Arching her neck she strained to look up at Fenn.

"By the way, dear, I am Philomel. I know your strange," - she shot a look at the demonesque mari - "Rather well. Her and I have a history." She paused and looked down again at Vincent. "I gave her sex advice."

With a small smirk the faun twirled in a circle, stepping around Vince - his teleportation was not strange to her in the slightest - and started back to her seat. Funnily enough it had now been occupied by a curled form. Russet red and white with black highlights and focused golden eyes, Veridian looked over at her, twitching his tail.

Gently, Philomel set Fenn down, waiting for the likely moment when even more people - perhaps even Vincent and Mari again - would interrupt them and calmly introduced the new pair.

"Small man who looks like a boy, meet my darling Veridian ... Veridian meet ..."

She turned to Fenn. "Just what is your name then?"

[Nicolette]

The blonde turned on her stool, watching the action with a face bereft of emotion. A series of individuals barged into the Sword and Staff, all of whom remained complete strangers to Nicolette. Each changed the entire feel of the tavern with their entrance. One in particular, a woman with a mop of wet, red hair, nearly threw the door off its hinges. Whether it was the whipping wind, or the patron's own strength, Nicolette could not be sure. Regardless, when the woman hurried directly for Vincent and Rayleigh's table, Nicolette was hardly surprised. Why was it that the Tarot Hierarchy had such a habit of attracting the crazies? Was it their flair for the dramatic, or were the two entirely unrelated?

It was only when Nicolette finally spoke that her disapproval became evident. "Friends," she echoed with a frown, "I suppose is the correct term for it. I am travelling with them, though I am no official member of their league." She had been asked, though that was probably not worth sharing at the moment. Begged, more like, upon her first meeting with Vincent. She had politely declined, as she had done every time he had asked since then. Only recently had she agreed to travel with them on a "probationary period." Mostly, she hoped to see Althanas. To avoid taking complete advantage of the Tarot's kindness, she at least considered joining. From time to time.

The violet-haired beauty intrigued Nicolette, as she had never seen a faun before. Yet even then, she could hardly be shocked when the woman approached Vincent. "Goodness," she breathed, shaking her head. "This is about the strangest thing that I have seen in my entire life. Is this commonplace in taverns around here? I mean, I-" Her voice trailed, and her amber eyes narrowed as something dawned on her. "Are they fighting over that small person?"

[Rayleigh]

Rayleigh's string of curse words was lost to the din of the ever-growing crowd. The horde's numbers increased with the help of these odd newcomers, all of whom found some reason to approach their table. Did Vincent know everyone in Althanas? Or just all the women with the unusual hair colors. The good mood that Fenn had sparked was extinguished as if from a blast from the windstorm outside. A faun and a redhead, fighting over a small person, and her sort-of boyfriend-thing was at the heart of it. "Un-fucking-believable." Were Vincent less capable, and were she less mad at him, she might try to aid him in some way. Instead, she groped for her expensive wine, and sipped directly from the bottle. This was not a "delicately sipping from a glass" sort of evening. But had there not been more drink in the bottle a moment ago? She finished it in one mighty swig, then grabbed for another drink left unattended on the table.

"John," Rayleigh drawled finally, scooting a bit further away from the fire, and toward her massive guild mate. It would allow her to hear him better, and besides, she was beginning to smell a bit like wet, ratty fabric being roasted over an open flame. "Why don't you and I run away together?"

[Atzar]

Atzar grinned at Nicolette’s innocence. “Looks that way,” he agreed. “Honestly, this is probably one of the more reasonable quarrels I’ve seen in a bar. Night is young though. Liquor hasn’t kicked in yet.”

He watched for a moment with amusement, but gradually his smile faded. Several of the patrons seemed to know the kid, and from the snippets of conversation that the mage could hear, not all the relationships were harmless. Atzar didn’t see a reason to get involved – he still hadn’t eaten yet, after all – but he watched closely just in case.

But no fight appeared imminent, and the bartender returned to shove a bowl of stew at Atzar. The delicious scent of vegetables and spices flooded his nose, and he reached for his spoon hungrily. He sat with his back to the bar, vessel of food in one hand and utensil in the other, still watching the action.

He glanced at his blonde companion. Again he pondered the right way to act around this probably-a-noble. In Alerar, there were all kinds of proprieties to observe before finally digging in at a courtier's dinner table, and while Atzar wasn’t willing to bend that far over tavern food, he did feel obliged to display some manners.

“You want something?” he asked Nicolette. “On me.”

Besides, it never hurt to be thought of as generous.

[Cards of Fate]

Vincent took one look at Phi as she blew him off, and then took a look at Mari, then his gaze shot back to Ray who was going through that bottle of wine faster than his company could earn money. He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples muttering softly to himself. Why the fuck do I only know the crazy people in this world? Why can't I ever hang out with the Orlouges in their swanky underground base. He shoots Fenn a look and taps his temple, establishing a mental connection with the small child.

I'm gonna let this sit in the back of my head, okay? If anyone scares you, or makes you feel threatened or in danger, just scream in your noggin and I'll come running.

With that he turned his attention to more pressing matters. He neatly made a little list of priorities in his head. Step one, he needed to unpiss Ray off, which would probably prove to be the most herculean of the tasks. Step two, keep an eye on Fenn, if Mari makes a move on him I beat her ass, if Phi tries something I'll beat her ass, and if anyone else tries anything, I'll let John kick their ass. Step three, figure out a way to get Nicolette to join the fucking Tarot, and maybe that dude with her. He seems to be magical enough that fate has something to say about him. With that he turned back to Phi.

"Look, I trust you enough and he doesn't seem distressed, but one peep from him and I come running okay?" He immediately heel turned and slid back to his table with all the grace and ease of a professional barfly, and gently snatched his bottle of wine from Ray for a brief moment, pouring a glass for himself before handing it back to her. "Sorry 'bout that Y'all. Just making sure lil Fenny knows to wrap it before he taps it."

[Briarheart]

"I want to steal him."

"No, Hype."

Hype remained hunched over her drink, a predatory look in her four amber eyes. She had been eyeballing the little boy with the sharpened ears the moment we took our seat in the corner. She watched him as she was handed off between Red, the faun Philomel, and That Stupid Fucking Hero Guy whose name escapes me at the moment, waiting for her moment to strike.

"I'm going to steal him, Maddy." Hype's muscles wound tight, coiled and ready to strike at a moment's notice. "I'm going to steal him and smother him with hugs and snuggles."

I cast a quick glance around the tavern, making note of anyone who would try and stop her before she could wrap her vines around the boy. Of all those present, none had the considerable strength and skill it would take to prevent Hyperion from handing out hugs. "At least be polite enough to introduce yourself first," I muttered in warning.

Hype's eyes lit up, recognizing the tone of resignation in my voice. "I bet he smells like a cinnamon roll," she squeaked with joy as she rose from her chair.

With a delighted giggle, she began to snake her way through the crowd towards the little blonde kid.

[Amari]

The visage of Hype bee-lining toward Philomel and Fenn did not go unnoticed by Scarlet. A sigh escaped her lips as she picked up her spare drink and wandered over toward Madison, well aware of the eyes on her. "Is hero boy still staring daggers into my back?" Scarlet asked as she placed the glass of fire whiskey down in front of Madison. She then took a seat opposite the woman, not waiting for a reply.

"I would have said hello earlier, but I do not think Hype would resist the urge to hug me." Scarlets scelera eyes wandered over to the other woman who was not doing a very good job of being subtle in her advances toward Fenn. "We both know that would have injured her, and I do not feel like dealing with the repercussions. I already have enough people who want my head in this dingy overcrowded shithole, I don't need to add you to the list."

Scarlet turned her scelera gaze back to Madison, raising her glass in some sort of toast. "To tolerating current company."

[Philomel]

"Don't you even think about it."

She didn't even lift her eyes. Instead she kept them trained on where the tiny Fenn sat, Veridian with his snout pressed against his hand. Apparently Veridian was rather interested in this kid-man and had been giving Philomel a detailed analysis of what he thought.

Amari said man? So he is older then you? Just looks like a child. Perhaps eight. Perhaps a curse, perhaps a racial trait? No normal race, clearly, they age normally. Not a faun, not a spirit, I would sense that, he sniffed the Fenn and paused. Smells like dust and iron. There is blood on his clothes. Stains, the fox nosed him futher. There is sadness in his eyes, Philomel, and pain, but a great attempt to smile through it all, to survive and ...

Intently, she listened. But kept aware, for this was a place not to be distracted. When so many heroes and villains and those who lay between lurked in this massive floor of bebauchery and kidnapping. She kept an eye on Mari - at her place, at the bar - and kept an eye on Vincent of the Cane - who sat back at his table, sipping his drink - and she kept an eye on the giant of the man, he who she always recognised. John Cromwell was never one to be missed when he was in a place ...

And then she saw her. Moving through, with her knotted vines for hands. Behind her came the quiet figure of her ever-present servant-thing Hyperion, bug-like, plant-like, skulking ...

"Don't even think about taking him, Maddison Freebird," Philomelkept speaking, facing the boy. "And Hyperion is not allowed him either. If you must cuddle, then cuddle here, but Veridian is coming up with some very interesting ideas about ..."

She began to lean back.