Aleksei

"Excuse me, but I asked for green and not peppermint." A slender figure affixed itself next to the unoccupied space beside Lucas, but so unlike the half-dragon, the woman was not there to stare and quander. No, she was there to negotiate the warmth of her tea and its flavor to an inept bartender who has never gotten her order correct in all the times she's occupied the Weary Orc. "And the water was cold, could you please replace the tea and water, I would greatly appreciate it." There was no edge to the woman's voice; she carried the air of a respectable person who liked to hide behind layers of leather and stacked silk scarfs which loosely hung from her slender throat. Her patience ran from the roots of her auburn hair down to her toes wiggling inside her boots; there was more than enough hours in the day to get what she wanted, she is in no extreme hurry. Plus, this is a learning experience for the bartender who appeared a bit too preoccupied with their new arrivals; curious, considering that this is a tavern and all sorts of tumbleweeds roll on through, getting snagged on the edges of rumor and gossip before tumbling away. The bartender looked uncomfortable leaving his bar unattended after he's just returned from making his rounds, but he was growing uncomfortable beneath the small woman's intensely green stare. Not in a hurry but she'd appreciate if he attempted to put a little pep in his step, her dinner is getting cold and her stomach doesn't appreciate the hindrance. "Annnnd no sugar!" She leaned over the bar, her legs flailing up into the air as she yelled out her final request. Whoever just adds sugar to flavored water doesn't appreciate the leafy tones and a hint of despair tea gives; additives take away the apparent snooty presence the person has drinking it because they don't wrinkle their nose in disdain on their firsts sip. Satisfied, she took a seat and waited for her fixed drink to arrive. Comfortable, Farren swiveled in her chair to first look at the man whose face was artistically angular and handsomely broody. The constellation of freckles splattered against her cheeks danced when she wrinkled her nose - dangerous. He looked like the kind of man that has way too many failures and pains in his life to be a reputable piece of society, which unfortunately made her curious. There's just something so strangely predictable about this kind of person that you're just hoping they'll surprise you. "Here." Fiddling with a random pocket on her person, the woman searched for the small packet of matches. Due to a variety of reasons, Farren struggled to get her fingers to work, but when they finally did, she produced the packet with an enthusiastic 'ah ha!'. "You can have these," she said, handing the matches over to the broody gentleman.

This! There wouldn't be issues for your mentioned weaponry @notmuch_23.

When you're ready to rock and roll, let me know so we can do something silly and I'll make you thread #34 ❤️

There is! Albert Speer is by far one of the more influential individuals in Renovatio's lore. He has created a variety of paintings, sculptures (Heaven's Gate the most notable), and written countless sacred texts.

I remember you. ❤️

I hope it is what I think it is, because if it is, then that makes me excited as I have a few possibilities in mind of who we've got rolling here.

Feeling the delicate wave of energy escaping the Apprentice, Riforte leaned back against the couch to feed on the helping hand. The extended hand was a minor action, but one that has proven to be extremely helpful in small situations like this where Riforte can relax. Their feed has yet to be put to the test in more hateful operations when they're both strained for time. Hopefully, they will never have to go that far. Savoring the headless woman's question, the operative shrugged her shoulders. There were so many answers she was struggling to pick from the bunch because she was in no position to really get into a back and forth battle with Nefarious. How shouldn't matter, but she understood that Nefarious needs to know to be at ease with heading the Full Deck once more. One hint at betrayal and Riforte knows she'll be giving them all hell; already she can imagine a plethora of situations that'll make Nefarious want to roll. "We may have disappeared, but we've never stopped." Once more she held up her hand to stop the other woman from interrupting her. "The money comes from an actual company that has been alive for more than a few years. Reviving the Full Deck is their endeavor because you know how rich people are, they have to spend their money." Having a legitimate business with solid backing will look healthy when their records are eventually gone through. There's no way they'll be left alone, not when the original Full Deck was sunk under some terrible circumstances. They're asking for trouble bringing it back, but Riforte has already prepared them for that eventual circumstance. This time they won't give anyone reason to suspect them of anything, except maybe the shady company that'll be occupying the Deck but that just goes without saying. These kinds of things attract all types of business and who are they to turn any of it away if nothing illegal is going on? "Security?" "You'll have that too. A few of our own of course, but no one with a meaningful record." Nefarious laughed, not surprised by that answer whatsoever. The Full Deck is her's in spirit, it truly belongs to The Dead, and that means they're going to have their hands in absolutely everything. "I'm completely useless when it comes to any of that though, so I will let my fellow associate explain everything." Knowing she's going to have to rip this bandaid off eventually, she tells Cain to enter the humble abode. Earlier Nefarious had searched for Austere, not knowing that the wild dog would have been the least of her worries.

Shanti's ears turned red at his reply, her inability to shrug his quips off showing as the redness spread to her face that harbored a loving smile. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the kiss planted atop her forehead, the sweet sensation of their intimate connection making her feel more relaxed. There is more than enough time to discuss awkward dreams probably curated by the growing babe in her womb. Some women have said they've had strange dreams and cravings during their pregnancy, making Shanti feel more comfortable with the changes in her body and mind. Later will come soon enough. Plus, it would appear there are more immediate adventures to get to. Released to follow, Shanti took her time, allowing the two to have their moment of reunion without interruption. Michael was a lovely mix of seriousness and playfulness that often left many wondering what exactly he's thinking. It made the elf pleased seeing her other half look excited seeing a familiar face, a face that upon closer examination was somewhat feral looking. Finally reaching the two and after Michael's joke, Shanti held out her only hand for Roswell to shake. Green eyes sparkled, happy to meet another person of importance that matters to Michael to some degree. Their relationship has not been empty of introductions; she's met a handful of personnel that holds some significance in his life and others that are just comrades. By the overall reaction coming from both men, she can assume that Roswell is on the spectrum of importance that matters immensely. His boasting appearance means some kind of adventure is following him. "It's a pleasure to meet you," the vines on her cheeks glittered with the truthfulness of her greeting. "I'm Shanti." Not exactly sure how to introduce herself as a significant other, she just gave her name and allowed the gentleman to assume - and Michael to interject. Pregnant with his child, it's a little silly that she is still uncertain how to introduce herself to other people that includes their relationship. But these kinds of social interactions are still fresh for the elf; a bit socially stunted, she is making ongoing attempts to apply what she's learned here and there. "Does this mean you two are off to blow up buildings and catch the bad guys?" She teased Michael, understanding his position in life takes him away for an x amount of days with little to no communication. This understanding and being surrounded by familiar faces makes her less nervous when letting him go. "Or are we just putting another plate at the table?"

Ari gave Grugga an appreciative smile for his compliment towards Gerald's ability. You read about knights and their extensive capabilities of fighting nasty beasts and keeping their kingdom safe; serving as keepers for land and the people within, they are more than the simple romantic men and women. A part of her was moved to ask him to teach her but realized that now isn't the right time and she doubts she can hold a sword let alone wield it as mightily as he had. Perhaps another time when they're not preoccupied with a mission. While Gerald tends to Grugga, she goes over to the deceased Landshark to begin the process of removing its teeth. 'Thank you for the compliment Ser.' She understands that if it hadn't been for her patience, Grugga and the Knight would have butted heads, havoc probably would have broken out, and the overall mission would have been a wash. A long time ago, the Count (a foggy memory) had complimented her surprising ease towards danger, and it's like. The young woman isn't sure if it's because she understands every day is worth its salt or if there's something hidden inside her that keeps her grounded, like some kind of spell or curse. Withdrawing a knife from her hip, she rolls her eyes at the last wild assumption. If he had cursed her, she would have already broken it. 'Hopefully, I can keep it up!' Her laugh would echo through his mind as she went about digging through the Landshark's slacked maw. Unable to stop herself, her small nose wrinkled at the stench emanating from the dead creature; she draws the line somewhere when it comes to disgusting things, and it's apparently nasty landsharks that have been deflated. 'How many do you need Grugga?' The entire conversation can be heard by both men, her line of communication now expanding between them to make their lives easier. 'We can use my bow string to make the necklace, yes?'

"Don't get too close; she may fall in love with that handsome mug you call a face." The buyer teased, knowing well enough such a statement carries little weight for fruition. "The manabai'wok pick their owners, you see. This one picked hers already, but it looks like something happened." Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull as the worn tips of her fingers continue to dance along the edges of the woman's mind. There was a pain, and happiness rolled together in one giant ball of unspent emotion. Through the lens of the woman's memory, she could see that she had lived a small life with even smaller purpose. It was only when she had found her chosen that there was a spark of life, a push of need to be something more than a nuisance in the world. The buyer wondered if such emotions were due to upbringing and circumstance, or if it went deeper where the poor woman was already at a disadvantage from birth. Remmington stared blankly at the man who had blown in her face; a delicate drop of drool poked from the corner of her mouth and threatened to drip down her chin. She felt the intrusion but did nothing to fight against fingers tickling the memories she's grown numb to. He left her with promises he'd return, promises that it would be okay - he lied. Whatever else she has left of a person deserves to be removed for she has nothing to give to the world now that he no longer exists. "Once they pick their owner, that's it. With her being abandoned, she'll just die, and the cycle starts all over again." Blood painted the inside of the manabai'wok's ears the more the buyer sifted through all the unnecessary junk to get to the real prize. Felt like dipping your hand in the cereal box for the toy inside, you have to dig around a little bit before finding it. "I'm going to change that. Can you," she briefly paused before roughly shoving her hands fully into the mind of the broken woman, causing a soundless scream to escape the slave, "sing to her. Just a little diddy, nothing special and make sure she doesn't fall asleep." With immense strength, the broken woman raised shaky hands forward, daring to touch the pristine loveliness of the gentleman knelt before her. Fingers were curved in unnatural bends, and her mouth hung slacked while blood now painted the curve of her dirty neck. While she wished for death, the piece of strength embedded somewhere deep in her heart kept her semi-conscious during this strange ordeal. Manabai'wok are not unusual creatures; they wander about Renovatio like any other animal. Except it's a treat to find one from history, the kind that is worth something to someone. Overall it made her wonder how these two found her as if it mattered. "I've made her harmless for a time."

There are some minor differences between their trail of thought. Slavery hadn't stifled much of her want to converse and be friendly with others; truthfully, it only exasperated her need to be "normal." Her master had been a relatively kind man who allowed her to be herself - within reason, of course. A silent slave sold nothing but air, he would say in his rough, proud voice. "I can understand that." She pushed a small pile of dust to the middle of the room, looking at it thoughtfully. Cleaning and caring for the littles are usually what slaves are used for, especially in the Flame Court where the men and women are more focused on producing heirs and preserving their history than anything else. They are a bought convenience who've dedicated their entire lives to be the perfect slave to live the ideal life. Who doesn't want to be protected their whole lives and given a chance to follow an already predestined path? A poor man can sell himself, provide for his family, make a name for himself; slavery has its faults, but Kalopsia has exploited its bounty. Scooping up the pile and throwing it away, she puts her attention on the corners. "The markings on my face show that I am a slave, and the more elaborate they are, the more influential my owner is. My master was a simple merchant who had made a rather solid living out of haggling and arguing." Eliza gave a soft laugh, her memories working their way into her conversation. "My mother and father were also slaves; when I was old enough to be sold, I was." It's a common thing for children of slaves to be sold, primarily if the household was unable to afford to feed another mouth. As items, they are expected to be taken good care of or else they will face the law that has consistently punished abusive slavers. Slavery is part of the economy of Kalopsia, each Maharaja and Raj have made sure that it's kept healthy by applying rules that are taken seriously. There are some that can avoid the arm of the law, but it's never for long, and they are often done away with to ensure the safety and health of the island. "This is my first time being free. When I had the money, I bought my freedom and immediately left." Leaning against the broom, the dark elf laughed and shook her head. "My master was angry for a lot of things. He was angry; he taught me how to read and write, allowed me to grow interests outside serving him, and a few other things. When you look at it, he bought my freedom for me." It had been a great day when she walked onto the ship that was sailing to another world. She hadn't expected to become homesick within the first few days of hitting land, but the lack of spices sifting in the air and the colorful banners waving in the sky struck a chord in her. Looking out the window now, she still yearns for the comforts of home, but it's a stubbornness that keeps her planted. "I don't want you thinking that I left illegally and someone is going to come after me. I assure you I will be doing my best."

I've yet to introduce Toy Story but I'm not sure Avalynn would be a fan 🤔 Princesses are currently the flavor of choice in this household, along with Jurassic Park. We thought she'd be scared of it but the dinosaurs distract her 😆 We cycle through 1 hour of youtube kids, Tangled, Frozen, and Jurassic Park. I should squeeze in another choice.

12 POSTS. Tomorrow.

This is a great party.