OOC:
|
Thanks, I do what I can. Speaking of, don't know how you feel about players "filling-in" random details and atmosphere? i.e. is what's below ok or should I leave that sort of thing entirely in your capable hands?
|
|
John the Dead struts his way down the mid-morning street. There's nothing of note out of the ordinary. A few folk come and go about their daily routines. Serving maids and washer women lug bundles of various goods. A donkey led cart loaded with questionable looking onions, potatoes and assorted other vegetables from gods know where makes its way uptown toward the more busy markets "up town"...of course, from here just about the whole city is "up town." Even the beggars and stray animals (a few emaciated dogs, but mostly cats) are trying to stay in what shade they can find...quickly disappearing as the sun continues along its path toward its zenith.
Down Old Market, the old, disjointed (or entirely missing) cobbles rhythmically poking at his striding feet like spiteful lovers (to hear Hygarr tell it, this was a major stretch of business, once; sure doesn't look it anymore!). He crosses the street, so he can stick to the west side which still has a goodly amount of blessed shade.
Course that's where the beggars and stray animals are too... But that's not an entirely bad thing, considering where he's going and all - humming to himself he tosses a couple of Big John's silvers the way of One-Hand Tully as he goes by, earning himself a moldy flash of rotten teeth when the old mummy-guy catches every single one without missing a beat (First time he's done *that*! Was he a busker way back when? Thief-guild even? Good technique for a dried-up codger anyways!), and a few more in Annayeva's wicker bowl when he gets to the corner of Lesser Gods a while later, her innumerable 'children' miow-ing around her - some downright hissing his way! - gift-giving's supposed to be good luck, don't you know; and bad luck to beat them up
too bad if they don't
really deserve it. (Beggar-spread rumors, swore Big John the one time the topic came up, but it's not like it's
his own money he's spending here anyways, right? Although, technically, now it
is... Hu.)
John hesitates, but then *does* take the turn at Annayeva's reserved corner after all: it's where the shade is the best, right? Angled road and all that. Plus - well - it's a nice place to visit, for a variety of reasons... The ladies of the night are nowhere to be seen on Lesser Gods right now though, probably grabbing some well-earned winks in cool basements below the two closed-houses on the street -- lucky bitches (all things being in the now, of course). One block down and he passes the wide and low well-mouth set in its little round court of houses to the right, treading lighter and quieter than before: place is favoured Slash turf, and Big John plus 3-feet didn't exactly get off on the right foot, definitively no pun intended -- although the four of them have (officially) been paying their water-protection tax ever since. Suspicious guy, 3-feet. (And none too shy about pointing his half-ogre half-brother your way either! John's certainly got the (mostly-healed) bruises to prove it.) Wait, is that movement back in the well-court, just as it passes beyond view?
Heartbeat crashes back down when it turns out *not* to be Urblain's hulking, horribly misshapen form after all: zero for two on the excitement front so far today (maybe if it wasn't so freaking *hot*?). Isn't there a freaking quota on boredom or something? Definitively *should* be!
Another block east and one more south, down an alley and around a corner and he (finally!) comes to Damodil's noodle shop. Man, that was nearly endless!
Despite your silent and shadowless approach, she lifts her dark brown eyes to meet yours as you approach the counter.
(Well damn it all; he must be slipping!)
"Dead John." she says, nonplussed, as a greeting. "What's it to be today? Kitchen's closed n' I've just finished cleanin'. Too hot to cook s'more. But sure I could scrounge up somethin' if you're hungry." she says through near perfect Common accent. You know she is being friendly, for her, but her face still just looks angry.
"Fammi, love of my life, your smile's as blinding as ever," he replies with an unshaven smile that says he's (roguishly, he's hoping) lying through his teeth. (Just like he rehearsed in his head: not bad!).
"You should just leave all this behind and run away with me..."
Which, being a man and her a woman, he actually half-means (certainly wouldn’t say no: it would be impolite!
).
<Response Fammi?>
OOC:
|
Trying to be charming. Cha 14 if needed.
|
|
<Afterwards (assuming he still has all his teeth):
John leans an elbow on the counter:
"Who's in, desert flower? Anybody I know?" Hogrim says girls (and married woman for some reason) love this sort of thing. And he's the all-time champion! (Pretending he can't (almost) hear the dice fall, that he's in
control. Sweetening the pot with every heartbeat now that he's close (so close!) to the finish line...)
OOC:
|
Passed 5 silver on to Tully and Annayeva, by the way, two to him, three to her.
|
|