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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2013 5:55:38 GMT
The soft hiss of water boiling echoed comfortable through the thin door. Behind the warped, cracked bit of wood, Galya lay neatly tucked into a corner of the room, messy pages scattered around her, a feather in hand. Although she had the feather held before her face, her eyes were closed in concentration. Murmuring quietly, she felt rather than saw when the papers began to stir in the slight breeze that rose. They fell to the ground abruptly, however, as a loud bang echoed from the main house. Galya cracked one eye open, then leapt to her feet as a moan ehoed through the house. Righting a slumping candle that threatened to overturn from its holder, she wove her way through the mess filling so much of the human's home. Technically, this area was off limits, but the man's soft sobs told her he was unlikely to protest her presence. "Gregoir?" There was blood on the soles of her shoes, but it wasn't as though she couldn't wipe it clean later. She knelt beside him, ears drooping as he rolled over to face her. The injury didn't seem too bad, but there was so much blood she couldn't be sure. Biting her lip, she hauled the man up, depositing him in one of his chairs- thankfully not the wobbly one with the broken leg. (why couldn't it have been water magic that came easily to her? The well would require leaving him and going outside) As the initial shock wore off, Gregoir growled a curse beneath his breath. He was still pale, and shaking, and Galya kept a hand on his shoulder to ensure he didn't leave the chair, and began to try to wipe the blood away with a tolerably clean rag. ----- Even a serious injury to the hands wouldn't mean much to a man who's income was made off rent and back-alley dealings, and no one would look too closely into cries in that area of the city, but that did little to put Galya's mind at ease. That letter had been meant for her- sent by another elf, no less. It smarted, to realize she was going to have to adjust to a new way of things if she wanted to get by. The uncertainty in her steps, instead of something akin to indignation or righteous anger, was perhaps a sign of denial. Still, despite having mixed feelings, she wasn't willing to let the woman responsible off the hook. The Crown and Lion. She walks in quietly, doing her best to avoid detection as she slinks to a corner of the room. A small coin tossed to the barkeeper would ensure, or so she hoped, that he wouldn't draw attention to her. Reaching for the air around her, she pulls it in gently, listening to conversations her, trying to pick out a specific voice. (she tries not to smirk when she hears someone call for the door to be closed, to keep out the sudden draft) @tsundere tagged
Reading between the lines is easier when the lines literally explode in your face |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2013 14:49:32 GMT
LIARS THAT PROSPER. The common room is warm and dimly lit, the fire well-fed, and Ellorian's sha'rah partner keeps calling for more wine, topping off her glass at every chance. She could pass out drunk at the table and he still wouldn't win the game. As it stands, she's not even tipsy and and when she smiles at him over the board she knows that he knows. She takes a sip of the wine anyway--it's good, for this inn, and there's no point in wasting free drink. "Do you want to forfeit yet?" she asks. "You could drag this on for another hour or so, but I'd hate to think of all the coin you'd waste on wine during that time."He grimaces in response and moves a piece two squares over. She would chastise him for the carelessness if he weren't so hopelessly lost even before it. Ellorian's most consistent employer introduced her to sha'rah when she first settled in Greyhollow, and she's taken to playing the game while discussing business with all of her patrons. Sadly most of them lack the original woman's skill. "I think I'll play to the end," he replies, "No matter how bitter it is." Ellorian laughs and the fire crackling a few feet away flares hotter for a moment. @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 2:58:34 GMT
watch out;
you might get
what you're after
Although there's more than a twinge of aggravation driving her, a low fire roiling in her stomach, Galya can't break away from old habits. Wariness is ingrained so deeply in her it's nearly instinctual, her impulse to stride over, overturn both board and bottle, is pushed aside for a wiser plan. There's no mistaking the voice the air carried to her, and indeed, a glance around confirms her suspicions. Letting her eyes flutter shut, Galya focuses once more on the air, this time with different intentions. The little wisps of natural breeze, generated from rapidly closed doors, from movement, from cracks in the doorframe, whisper in her hand. At her command, they draw together. An eerie fog rises, not from the floor, but from the back, where she imagines the kitchen is located. As it spills across the room, Galya takes a seat at the end of the bar, nodding to the man seated beside her. She'll wait for the commotion to start, wait for a good opportunity. It doesn't take long. A man seated nearby notices before a minute's up, and rises to his feet with a shout sure to alert those within earshot. When Galya glances over where he's pointing, she presumes she'll simply be one of a crowd who've noticed the unusual disturbance. Of course, unlike many in the crowd, she neither flees the area, nor goes over to investigate. She simply sits, crosses her legs, and helps herself to the drink of the man beside her when he bolts from his stool. (It's a shame, really, that she can't get the fog any thicker- or that she doesn't have the power to conjure smoke. Still, this will have to do. ) @tsundere tagged
Gonna burst into flames
fighting fire with fire |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 3:52:41 GMT
LIARS THAT PROSPER. When the shouting starts, her partner jostles the table and Ellorian watches as the pieces shift off their squares, the Fisher King tipping on his side. The fog twining around her legs is of less concern than her interrupted game. "A fire?" he asks, half-rising from his seat and Ellorian doesn't bother to look up at him, delicately re-arranging the board layout to what it was. "That's fog," she states, "Not smoke. Fog in a fairly respectable inn's common room. Now that is unusual."The magic is different each time she reaches for it. The magic is always the same: the art of folding, and the folding back. She can feel it in her blood, singing and silent and coursing, and in the air as well, a lighter touch. A shadow in high noon. She reaches for the magic in her and twists. "Are we going to finish this game?" she asks, "Or would you feel more comfortable elsewhere?" [Ellorian used Dispel Magic on the fog, working on the assumption that fog doesn't just start rolling out of buildings as a natural occurence. And she plans to finish her sha'rah game no matter what, apparently, regardless of whether the fog was magical or not.] @tikva LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2013 17:09:40 GMT
watch out;
you might get
what you're after
It takes several long moments of sitting at the bar, waiting oh so innocently to be confronted, for Galya to realize it isn't going to happen. There's a part of her that wants to give up and sulk in exasperated aggravation, but sulking won't accomplish what she came her for. Reluctantly, she abandons her stolen drink at the bar, and walks right up to Ellorian. Directly approaching someone she suspects to be involved in shady activities, who's already handed her a trap of explosives, isn't the wisest choice, but she does it anyway. "And here you are, just as your note said," she says, pulling up a chair and seating herself right beside the board. "Would this be a bad time to talk.. business? I don't mind waiting while you finish your game. It's pleasant in here now that the crowd's thinned out." @tsundere tagged
Gonna burst into flames
fighting fire with fire |
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