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Author Topic: Another Day In The Life  (Read 3557 times)

Vashti Ada Tohrein

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Another Day In The Life
« on: June 01, 2013, 04:34:00 AM »
    There were times Vashti doubted her better judgment. There were times the woman doubted she even had any to spare. In fact, over the course of the years, Vashti had become wholeheartedly convinced that sometimes she did not think things through in their entirety. She acted before she thought, took a bigger bite than she could chew, call it what one must, but it was obvious that she had made a mistake. Usually, Vashti would deny the accusations, a scoff destroying them before they were able to sink in. But today, it seemed impossible for her to do so. It was not necessarily that the search had taken her through the hills of Evendium, nor was it the fact that she had taken on the she had done a favor for an old friend; void, Vashti did not even regret doing the mission for the measly sum of two silvers. No, it was when she had finally returned to Laketown, where the mercenary expected to help in the transactions, Sataj had conveniently decided to travel towards Lindon, leaving her to deal with the exasperated elf hunter on her lonesome.

    Generally, the mercenary would remain undeterred, shrugging off the inconvenience with a bemused smile; however, the fact that she and the elf had been arguing nonsensically for the past couple of hours was beginning to take a toll. Now, some people were just formed that way – stubborn and unrelenting, far too set in their ways to listen to what anyone else had to say. It was difficult for them, perhaps, one could assume, understand something different from what they were accustomed to; then again, language seemed to be the most likely barrier that brought both woman and elf into this situation.

“Sil—ver.” The mercenary drawled, fingers rubbed together to bring context to her otherwise foreign words. “I will return your item once I get my silver.” The exaggerated gestures fell flat; words met by lyrical whispers and a shake of a head. It took a mere hour to learn that the elf knew as much common as she did of Sindarian, which was less than none. An hour more had come and gone of going back and forth, as the elf’s words became harsher, louder than before. Unknown words were spat in her direction, which Vashti gladly responded with a sneer. “Yes, because saying it louder will make me understand Sindarian all of the sudden.” The woman breathed in deeply, a desperate attempt to keep her vexation under control – but the shaking on her muscles and the constant pacing made her distraught painfully clear. It was in a clipped step that Vashti gave a heavy sigh, eyes flicking towards the male. “Look,” The mercenary finally started, thumbing at her temples in obvious irritation, “…how about we postpone this whole ordeal until Sataj returns?” That is, unless they wish to strangle one another by some preventable misunderstanding.

She pivoted in her heels, a steady breath released. “This is soddin’ unbelievable.” She uttered, hands pushing the dark strands. The male spoke behind her, followed by a remark that dripped with poison. Vashti glanced back in surprise, the first clear reaction she had pulled from the elf. The woman furrowed her brow, eyes narrowing down considerably as she threw her hands carelessly in his direction. “Oh, great, that you understand!” Her phrase was short, precise, and to the point, there was no need for niceties or otherwise unneeded exchange. There was an awkward silence that made the mercenary shift uncomfortably on her feet. In a heartbeat, a shrug rolled off Vashti’s shoulders, an exasperated sigh following closely behind. She rummaged through her pockets, pulling out a dainty looking necklace out. Without much thought, Vashti flung it to the male “You know somethin', let’s just call it even and be on our way.”  She would talk to Sataj whenever the man decided to wander in again. Either way the transaction was done – and all the woman had gained as a result was a throbbing headache.

There were no parting words exchanged between the curious duo, save a frustrated hand wave thrown by the elf in Vashti’s general direction. In fact, any could see how the pair was unable to contain their delight for parting ways. Steady steps carried the woman from the backstreets were their exchange had taken and into a much livelier part of Laketown. Voices and the sounds of the city were much louder now, if slightly chaotic. But while most people would find comfort in the buzzing city, Vashti found a strange form of discomfort between its winding streets and growing buildings. It made the woman utter darkly with each step she took, skin bubbling with frustration as nighttime clawed across the sky.

“Could've gotten a decent pint and meal with that...”[/li][/list]

Dénor

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Another Day In The Life
« Reply #1 on: June 04, 2013, 02:33:00 AM »
Well another hum-drum day bustling through Mirkwood to get to Laketown just to see Mrs. Opal Widow. The lady who can never stop talking! Whither it is about her granddaughter or the neighbor’s daughter, “Miss. Eglantine Wood, the most unfortunate girl to ever walk the face of Lake Town.” Of course that mountain in the distance, the one that is said to have a dragon hidden in its bowels seemed quite dormant compared to Mrs. Opal Widow who needed to go dormant for a winter or three. Why his master kept going to visit the old, wrinkly, gray-haired woman was beyond him. “She simply knows where to find the best apples, Dénor! Don’t complain it’s rude.” He was always told whenever they were just on the front steps leading up the bright yellow door that belonged to Widow Opal. “Ah Miss. Ginger, it is a delight to see you again so soon!” The door opened before a small wrinkly, gray-haired woman stepped out, her eyes as blue as flowers. Her skin was the color of well tanned leather. It disgusted Dénor greatly; it reminded him those worthless beasts his master’s friend raised for the ‘Noble Rohirrim’.

Mrs. Opal, it is good to see you too.” Ginger replied with a smile. How on earth could she do that!? “Heh, heh, heh! Well you are the only Elf within the town that I like, there is something different about you and who knows, in time, some gentlemanly Elf may come along and feel it too.” This was the introduction of how Widow Opal would go on talking about her dead husband, “Oh Mr. Delbert, how I miss him so everyday…” and from this point on there was no talking while she was talking about Mr. Delbert her long dead husband. Honestly, what did the man see in this woman!? Dénor was pretty sure that his death was not as accidental as she claimed it was. But, that was him and it would be hard for him to voice his opinion considering… Well, he wasn’t going to think about that, there would be other times to ponder such unrealistic things at this very moment. Besides, people would start to question themselves and he couldn’t have that, unless…

Before Ginger even entered the house he was gone. Mrs. Opal didn’t like him anyways, said he was bad luck and that he really should spend most of his time causing chaos and trouble in taverns and bars, perhaps even an inn! But he never really got that reaction and besides, this had been the first time he had actually been in Lake Town and he had no plans on getting lost, not tonight.

The sky was starting to turn its familiar shade of navy blue, and the mountain that hovered about a night’s flight from Lake Town took on the majestic colors of the setting sun. Dénor paused to watch the sunset and wondered about the stories behind the supposed dragon that lived in the heart. Perhaps this would be his day to find out? The prospect of such a search would yield something interesting for him to tell Ginger on their journey to Gondor, for that was usually where they took the Apples they got from Mrs. Opal.

Could’ve gotten a decent pint and meal with that…” Dénor looked down, his Orange eyes blazing in the dying evening as the sun caught the large owlish orbs. A young woman was wandering around in the alley below him, she looked upset. Those were usually the best kind to mess with, but what if he should put himself into a deadly situation? Then perhaps it was best to strike up a conversation with her and leave her guessing as to who she was talking to. People were usually more entertaining when they were talking to someone they couldn’t see, and he had, after all, left Ginger for! Swooping silently into the shadows of alley, he attempted to start the conversation with, “It is such a shame that someone as lovely as yourself should have trouble finding a bite to eat.” Not like he meant it, but as stated very recently, he was aiming to have a bit of fun…

out of cookies;
I don't know if we can negotiate on the year, but do you have a specific date? If not on the date, and if so on the year, I would love to tie this into what happens to Dénor while Cat and Mouse (another thread going on in here) is going on that night... if you do not like that idea, :3 then we can go with whatever.

&& I hope this post is alright! ^^b

Vashti Ada Tohrein

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Another Day In The Life
« Reply #2 on: June 05, 2013, 04:55:00 AM »
    “...actually, more than a pint. Could have enjoyed a whole damn barrel.” The bitter musings continued to leave her, words strung in quick bursts underneath her breath. She moved without direction, stopping once to glance inside a leather shop. The wretched and dreary smell of some worked-on leather, however, made Vashti scrunch-up her nose and quickly regret her decision. Releasing a heavy sigh, the mercenary tore her eyes away from the leather shop and shrugging her vest closer, moved forth. With a frown dancing across her brow, Vashti clenched her fist, her free hand searching for the pouch on her belt. “Maybe even spent a few days without bein’ drenched in orc blood, or bein’ dragged to from one place to another.” But of course, she was never that lucky. No – there was always something waiting to go wrong during the woman’s work. Whether it be unnecessary resistance, unexpected wargs, or that one employer who didn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘no.’ The latter, of course, was much rarer and a much easier to deal with.

    She huffed. “Just what I needed.”

    The Dúnedain found no comfort as she stood dumbly on the alley, staring at her surroundings with a pronounced frown. In fact, no sooner had she realized the situation she had found herself in, that the tugging had begun. It was a foreign sensation that pricked the back of her head, coming in quick burst from time to time. Each wave burned more fervently than the one previous, before dissipating in the stillness of the immediate area. Even when the feeling ceased, its presence haunted her mind, telling her what an idiot she had been, how she was wasting precious time – another would have found their way to their inn by now, they would not allow a man-made structure hinder them. But, there she was, staring blankly at the alley before her quite literally lost.

    Frankly, it was rather pathetic.

    When the woman took pride in recovering lost items, in aiding others, in being the one to do the rescuing, today she found herself in an unusual situation – the job had already been completed and still she was feeling its repercussions.  Laketown was going to be the death of her, Vashti thought, a few hesitant steps taken forward before they came to an end. “No, that wasn’ the way…” She doubled-back, shoulders drooping in the process, “…what side did I come through again?” Honestly, this was ridiculous! She had stood there less than two minutes, she couldn’t have possibly forgotten how she had gotten there in the first place! The words dragged within Vashti mind for minutes without end, growing progressively stronger, louder, making her fingers drum restlessly against her chin.

    Then, as quickly as her discomfort grew within the woman’s frame, it stopped; shattered, by a simple voice,  “It is such a shame that someone as lovely as yourself should have trouble finding a bite to eat.”  She stood briskly, shifting her weight between tired legs, though she immediately favored her right. For a while, Vashti said nothing, a callous smile crossing her lips. “Look, as much as I enjoy compliments, I am in no mood...” She started to move, her cyan eyes searching for the owner of the bodiless voice. “...to sod...” Eyes flicked across the alley, growing progressively wider. “...around?” She blinked - confusion etched across every one of her features.

    “What the...”

    Vashti’s eyes rolled up to stare at the endless street and the makeshift homes that lined them, and the emptiness they contained. Her eyes flickered across from one wall to another, her lips open and body frozen. No one. Nothing stood in the empty alley except the build-up of waste and an increasingly vexed mercenary. Vashti spat out a curse, the crudeness of her words contrasting the confusion that wrenched her gut. She propped her hands against her hips, jaw tightening considerably. A laugh left her suddenly, a dry chuckle that rolled from the back of her throat. “Great. Now I am imaginin’ things...” Part of her was beginning to think that the fates really didn’t like her.


    ooc;
    It was a lovely post! I honestly did enjoy reading it quite a lot! <33 Well, I don’t have an idea for the specific date, but I would say it would happen a couple of months before the Nitty Gritty thread [/which still doesn’t have a set date either ^-^’’’] so at the time I think anything would be a-okay~!

    I hope the post was alright though, let me know if you would like anything changed [/confused Vash is not a happy Vash][/li][/list]

    Dénor

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    Another Day In The Life
    « Reply #3 on: June 11, 2013, 09:12:00 PM »
    This woman seemed to like talking to herself in short spurts, Dénor found it rather amusing and although he had already determined that this woman was going to be such fun to mess with, he had to reiterate it to himself again just to be sure that he heard himself when he thought it. From his perch on the top of the building to the darkness of the alley he slid on silent wings as though he were hunting (ha, his silence was particularly normal for species of owl.) If anything he would at least be a gentleman towards her, if she felt herself hallucinating from her lack of food, he could always put it on Ginger’s tab! She wouldn’t mind, and he wouldn’t mind either… it wasn’t like Ginger had anything better to do with her life, right? Finding out about her past was something she wasn’t interested in, especially in the now. “Just what I need.” The woman huffed. The woman was completely consumed with her thoughts that when she paused in her steps he spoke, the evening light fading rather quickly and the noise of the circus goers was just starting filter through the alley, distant and almost dream like.

    Look, as much as I enjoy compliments, I’m in no mood…” She had turned to face him and was greeted with no one, if Dénor could smile he would have but that wasn’t a very attractive them for him to do, so he just sat there, looking amused as their eyes met and she wasn’t even aware of it, “…to sod…” whatever that meant, “… around?” Her confusion was absolutely delightful! He hadn’t had this much fun since his last encounter with Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien, and that had been very amusing. But, Dénor could give Celeborn some credit; though he was Elvish he was rational unlike some of the Gypsy Elves he and his master often encountered. “What the…” the stranger cursed then said, “Great, now I’m imaginin’ things…” Dénor chuckled at this remark, “But of course you are not, my lady.” He said, not bothering to shuffle from his spot in the darkness, “However I completely understand your situation as it is. If you do not wish to eat then please be on your way, but I would be most devastated to have missed a chance to speak with you face to face.

    Dénor’s voice was smooth, calm, and amused. Of course once she realized, oh wait that had been stated before, no sense in repeating it! He could tell she was vexed; humans were so easy to read. They displayed their emotions like words on a pure white page, or like the spots on a young fawns hide. Easy prey when it came down to it, in the wilds or even where it didn’t belong! This fawn obviously didn’t belong in Lake Town, her clothes were well worn and her shoes were a little dirtier than that of a plane-Jane townsman. She must travel, that was the only option and he lived among it so often that the look was very familiar and quite ordinary to see it. His next step was clear, “But I may be able interest you in a job that would take you as far as Gondor. It pays well…” Where was the harm? Ginger would need someone to help cart the apples to Gondor and then back to Rohan, and splitting the pay wouldn’t do much harm to her many debts. Heh, oh how he loved to run his masters life unexpectedly like this!


    out of cookies;
    Sorry it took a while to reply!

    I am sorry that Vash is confused. *offers her a fig* But maybe this will help to get her there if indeed it is to be before your thread with Beriadan?

    Vashti Ada Tohrein

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    Another Day In The Life
    « Reply #4 on: June 16, 2013, 03:35:00 AM »
      There was something about the ordeal that vexed the mercenary; though perhaps it was something she could solely attribute to the faceless voice. It was smooth, velvety, and liquid. It was the sort of voice that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end; the sort of voice that belonged to someone that somehow always seemed to drag the mercenary into a heap of trouble. And, frankly, it was the sort of voice that grated on Vashti’s very nerves even if she wore an amicable smile across her lips. Yet, the mercenary made no move to leave; in fact, it was quite the opposite. She moved slightly to the side, body slumping against the wooden wall. She could feel as the cool dampness of the surface seeped through the fabric of her shirt, lapping gently at her skin. Vashti grunted, hand instinctively reaching to her pocket. Pushing a couple of spare coins away, fingers curled around a wooden pipe.

    “If you do not wish to eat then please be on your way, but I would be most devastated to have missed a chance to speak with you face to face.”

    “Talkin’ face to face, is that what we are doin’ now?” Vashti chuckled dryly, pipe raised appreciatively in the air, “And all this time I thought I had been getting’ on friendly terms with a wall.” She quipped, pressing the wooden pipe thoughtfully against her lip. A distinct orange gleam later and a trail of frail smoke, a deep breath was prompted from the mercenary. She held the refuse in her lungs as the voice continued to speak, her eyes settled into the darkness. Once or twice she swore she saw the faint flicker of movement within the darkness and her eyes flickered to it. For minutes, her gaze would remain locked, before it flickered away to the brim of her boots or towards her fingernails.

    “But I may be able interest you in a job that would take you as far as Gondor. It pays well…”

    Most of the times she would have dismissed the voice and its unseen owner with a wave of her hand, it was the simple promise of a well paying job that kept her feet rooted where she stood. Her brows knotted down as Vashti chewed on her pipe, “I couldn’t imagine why you would offer a perfect stranger a job.” True, she needed the job, and that was a gentle way to put it, but the fact remained – this person had no idea of who Vashti was and what she did for a living. She shrugged her shoulders as she leaned further back into the wall, a bemused lilt flashing in her eyes. “Don’t be mistaken, it is an interesting proposal, but why?”[/li][/list]ooc;
    Hehe no worries! It was a wonderful post, definitely enjoyed it :3 Oooh! That could work beautifully! Would give her an excuse to travel and actually look into the whole note thing [/rolls] Also, I’m sorry it’s a bit on the short side – let me know if you want anything changed / added though!
    [Vash: *glances at fig and blinks* … thank you? *munches on it*]

    Dénor

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    Another Day In The Life
    « Reply #5 on: June 16, 2013, 06:47:00 AM »
    Well, at least he had secured her interest, goal one was complete. Goal two was convincing her that she wasn’t crazy when she found that it was an owl she was speaking to – and just any owl, but Dénor! He rather fancied himself a brilliant being, cautious and far over reaching his boundaries more often than he cared to admit. Yet, his master hadn’t taken him back to Rohan to live his life in the wild, for he would escape that wretched bird house after about a week of sitting about with absolutely nothing to keep his mind occupied. So he must have been doing something right, eh? Never the less, after this little incident it shouldn’t take but a second for Ginger to skin him and sell his feathers to be stuffed into pillows, or made into quills for writing. To this his orange eyes narrowed for a moment and he shuffled his wings in irritation. Taking a few quiet moments while the strange girl spoke, he collected himself, preparing to answer her statements, but not all at once.

    Talkin’ face to face, is that what we are doin’ now?” Her amusement was dryly exposed with a chuckle, “And all this time I thought I had been getting’ on friendly terms with a wall.” Ha, ha. Look at who was trying to be a comedian? Well, as much as it was amusing to the woman, Dénor found no humor in it. She brought a pipe to her lips and falling silent he took this moment to state his proposal. Darkness was the owl’s friend, what the day was to humans, was the night for him. Darkness didn’t bother him, and as he gazed at the silhouetted, relaxed figure of the woman as she leaned against the wall. He took this as a sign that she was interested, and her further comments told him that indeed, it was, “I couldn’t imagine why you would offer a perfect stranger a job.” Why wouldn’t he? Her mind was obviously not focused on the obvious, which was annoying, “Don’t be mistaken, it is an interesting proposal, but why?” Mistaken? Of course he wasn’t mistaken! Travelers were queer when they were seeking information, at least she had the decency to ask outright instead of in riddles to achieve her goal, and she seemed pretty nonchalant about it. He would need to word his statement carefully, they were only apples after all!

    My dear, don’t be silly! Walls cannot speak, that is just absurd.” Darkness, as stated earlier, was his best friend, light colored feathers or not! “Should it matter if it is a stranger or a child seeking adventure to want a job that pays well?” He asked. Money was a weakness that stopped everyone from doing something, and so it was desired. Great, he was reduced to explaining her own behavior! This he wasn’t likely to do unless it was absolutely necessary. “Like animals, I suppose you could say, I have a sixth sense about things.” Could this count as an overstatement or an understatement? He wasn’t quite sure himself, “But if you can tell me someone who isn’t looking for a job that pays well, then I will surely have been much closed minded indeed to assume such a thing.” He wanted to add ‘such a thing that a human such as yourself…’ but that might have given the wrong impression, and it took great control to keep it from slipping from his beak. He didn’t need her thinking that he was a Elf, for Dwarves were never seen in Laketown unless a circus or something was in town, like to night it appeared.

    Curious as to how long it would take before he would have to reveal himself, he settled for his place on the wall and shuffled his wings to make himself more comfortable. Blinking his large orange eyes at the woman, he inquired, “And while I have your attention, might I have your name?”  Naturally he would have given his first, but this time it only seemed right that his identity should remain hidden until they actually did come face to beak.  

    out of cookies;
    Haha, sweet! I'm sure Ginger would care very much that without her permission Dénor hired someone to help cart apples to Gondor... but I'm sure knowing Mrs. Opal Widow, there will be more than apples to cart places... XD

    ^^b Figs fix everything...

    Vashti Ada Tohrein

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    Another Day In The Life
    « Reply #6 on: June 17, 2013, 04:24:00 AM »
      “An easy job that pays well rarely brings good fortune in my experience, master wall…” The mercenary quipped in a second’s breath, never allowing silence to truly befall between her and her unseen companion. She rolled her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, eyes drifting close before continuing with the same callous tone, “…so forgive my unwillingness to jump at this most generous proposal without a hearin’ what it might entitle.” More than she would like to admit Vashti had seen herself pulled into nasty situations by promises of old clients. It was always the same thing, the same ‘Worry not, everything will be fine…’ or ‘…it’s hardly a job, really. A simple errand more like it…’ She scoffed – that simple errand taking her deep into Mirkwood, elbow deep in Warg dung, while an angry elf guard somehow became convinced that she had dragged the damned beast into their lands. Took her a couple of days to shake off the relentless elf and many weeks more before she could fully wash the stench of the Warg off her clothes. At the very least it had made for a good story.

      “Yet, it seems this sixth sense, as you so say, has yet to fail you...” She mused, her lips tight around the pipe. A faint orange light was cast about her face as she inhaled the sweet refuse. True, she was interested in whatever this job may prove to be. It had been weeks, if not months, since last the mercenary had seen a job that truly tested her abilities. It had been far too long since Vashti had felt the blood pumping through her veins or the electric charge of a plight for survival coursed through her. Granted, at first she had gladly welcomed the change of pace, using the time wisely to settle herself closer to civilization, but now, well, the same could not be said. And even when she could ignore her inability to find herself challenged for a while, her pockets were beginning to feel much lighter than she would have liked. The refuse left her in a silent breath, smoke diffused into the cool night air in wild pirouettes. For a few seconds, Vashti watched the gray forms with tired eyes, her head tilted slightly, and lips slightly parted.

      Vashti clicked her tongue, arms draped lazily across her stomach. There was no doubt in her she would accept the job; but why should she make it any easier to the one before her? She smiled, and she wondered why people seemed miffed with her half the time. The pipe was raised to her lips again and she gently tested it with her lips. Yes, her mind was made. The job, regardless of what it may require would definitely do; all within reason, she reminded herself with a nod.

      “And while I have your attention, might I have your name?”

      The woman stiffened at the mention of her name, but did well to hide the eagerness that turned the pit of her stomach. Vashti had never been one to give her name freely to those that asked, though the reason had never been clear. A nasty habit, she would say, that she had picked up over the most recent years, but one which had become ingrained in her. The mercenary would say that her name, or her lack of one in most situations, had often given her the opportunity to find jobs to would have otherwise alluded her. Got her a reputation of precise work in some circles, yet left her free in others. It made it easy to keep two sides of her life separate, no matter how hard it was becoming over time. She kicked the tip of her boot against the wall, its clacking echoing softly. “My name is none but my own,” She begun without interest, grip tightening around her pipe, “but for sake of keepin’ this offer friendly, feel free to call me Tohrein.” She left little room for objection as she spoke, no room for incessant prying or for the topic to be pursued.

      “As for your own, I would be glad to hear it, lest you would prefer me to conjure one for you.” Hedge, she figured, was one that she was becoming quite partial of – seemed to fit his personality quite well too. Perhaps, if the mercenary so choose, she may even decide to simply ignore this male’s birth given name and use ‘Hedge’ nonetheless. Frankly, it did have a nice ring to it. Vashti smiled in mild amusement as she waited for the male and his vexing voice to continue. Part of her could not help but wonder if his face would be as irritating as she conjured it to be. Though, perhaps her imagination would not make it as unusual as reality had it be.[/li][/list]


      ooc;
      Hehe, poor Ginger! If it’s any consolation to her, I promise that Vash will behave… most of the time, at least. And no matter how much she complains, she really doesn’t mind helping out carrying ‘boring damn apples’ to Gondo one bit!  :3

      Dénor

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      « Reply #7 on: June 30, 2013, 03:58:00 AM »
      Riiiight. Of course he should have seen that coming. Being called a wall wasn’t exactly flattering, but he would let it slide even if his ego wouldn’t let it go. Pushing it to the back of his mind he tried to focus on the conversation at hand rather than snapping back. “…so forgive my unwillingness to jump at this most generous proposal without a hearin’ what it might entitle.” Of course, and he would be very straight forward with her, it was his way! Where was the since in lying to someone you’ve just met? He would get to that in a moment though. “Yet, it seems this sixth sense, as you so say, has yet to fail you...” He wasn’t sure if that was meant as a compliment, but it did do wonders for his ego. Of course his ‘sixth sense’ never failed him, he was an intelligent being now, not dumb like others of his kind. It was a pride issue, and although he never looked at it as an issue, Ginger had always managed to point that he was taking his intelligence way too seriously. But that in itself was insulting, especially coming from his master.

      Dénor observed the woman before him. She still could not see him, and he was perfectly fine with that. Perhaps he should leave the dealing to Ginger, of course if he could convince her to play the part. But, the poor owl knew little of what his master was going through or going to go through the rest of the night and if he did know it would be rather annoying for the two of them, Vashti and Dénor, to be left empty handed. Words he couldn’t keep were worthless and he should he have known he wouldn’t have bothered to speak them and just let the woman carry on with her boring and colorless life! Ha, unfortunately that was not the case and even the brightest of Wizards wouldn’t have seen it coming, no sir. But returning to observing this, nameless woman, he couldn’t quite decide if she had made up her mind to take the job, or completely refuse him all together. His keen orange eyes watched the smoke dance in the dim light, his mind creating figures and faces he had never seen before.

      He enquired of her name, and she remained silent for nearly too long. It was rude when one remained so silent for so long, at least in his mind. When someone inquired of his name he gave it promptly and honestly, no intentions of hiding who he was or what he was doing. Dénor was almost always sure, however, to inquire first as to avoid haste in giving his own name. When she finally spoke, she said her preferred name was Tohrein, at least he assumed her preferred name. Rarely did he run across travelers that gave their true name. Many decided to hide from the law, it was indeed quite natural. Now, since it was only fair, she did ask for his name. “Dénor, at your humble service.” He stated, giving no last name – as if he really had one. The tone of his voice was calm as he proceeded, “I will admit that the job isn’t an easy task even if the merchandise is so simple. The employer is widowed, and she has a great deal of money to fill anyone’s pockets that is willing to take her investment to Gondor. I dare say that she is a bit eccentric and will talk your ear off about her dead husband.

      He paused to think before he continued, “She pays very good wages and whatever amount you happen to sell you get the full amount from the trader. I must warn you that the trader can be a bit flippant, but he is fair. You will not be alone, however, my…” He needed to come up with another word to describe his master, “… long time friend and colleague will also be helping you cart this cargo to Gondor.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts once more, “I do hope you like… apples.”  

      Vashti Ada Tohrein

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      « Reply #8 on: June 30, 2013, 11:34:00 PM »
        “You are well met then, Dénor.” So greeted the mercenary without particular flourish, her lips tight and eyes closed. Personally, she still preferred the name she had devised for him. But, perhaps it would be best if she kept the thought to herself at the time being. No need to ruin a perfectly civil business arrangement by giving someone a headache like she usually did. There would be more than enough time for that once the job began. She grinned lightly at her musings, pipe held by her teeth. She breathed in the warm refuse, held it in her lungs for a few seconds before being released in a sigh.

        The man was speaking again and Vashti could not help but nod her head with feigned interest. The mercenary had never been particularly fond of finding every single detail for a job. When she had a question, Vashti would voice it without hesitation - statements were severe and to the point. Yet, she generally tried to contain any thought until her counterparts would stop talking; which sometimes seemed to take quite a bit of time. “I suppose eccentricities are acceptable so long as the pay is good.” The woman added, eyes trailing the darkness as the orange light of her pipe caused the shadows to momentarily dance. Yet, all remarks she may have been holding unto once Dénor finished his explanation were quickly forgotten. All quips and banters were erased by the mere mention of the objects she would be transporting - namely, a fruit.

        “Pardon me, what?”

        Apples. It was apples. Of course it was! This whole ordeal, as there was no better way to call it, was all for an array of apples. There was nothing deviant about the task, nothing dangerous as far as she was concerned. Vashti did not need to go searching for a lost item, she did not need to protect or take a life. There was no smuggling involved, no crime being committed. All she was being asked to do was to carry apples - shiny, bright, red apples. Frankly, the mercenary was unsure of whether she should laugh or cry. For the past couple of minutes she had been under the impression that this so named Dénor and his colleague required her expertise for more contriving means. As if the cargo was not enough to surprise the mercenary, the place she was to transport them to filled her with cold dread. A place she swore to never visit again to save those once she loved from the pain, Gondor was never a place Vashti had accepted a job to. There were too many unknown variables, too many things that could go wrong - if not when it came to the job to her own well-being. But she had heard right, it was not a name that her wild imagination had formed, the apple-job would be taking her to Gondor. So now the mercenary was left to stand with a blank expression in her eyes, lips agape, and pipe hanging precariously from her lips.

        It took several minutes for Vashti to regain her composure and more minutes still before she found her voice again.  Even then, the mercenary stood with one hand rubbing tentatively at her temples, the other holding unto her pipe for dear life. There had to be something more, her mind would assure, no one went around recruiting mercenaries for a task as simple as that. Vashti heaved, her eyes tightly closed. Skilled fingers tentatively rubbed at her temples, desperate to find solace from the growing headache that threatened to make her head explode. This was definitely not her day.[/li][/list]

        Dénor

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        « Reply #9 on: August 08, 2013, 05:40:00 PM »
        I suppose eccentricities are acceptable so long as the pay is good.” Ah yes, but she didn’t know Widow Opal as well as he did. In fact if it was any consequence she may just back out once she’s had an ear full of how much she loved her dead husband… and if the owl didn’t know any better he would have said that Mrs. Opal had killed her own husband. But since the thought only just struck, he wondered if she could have been a murderess living in Laketown with a business for… apples. Everything really did seem to evolve her precious apples, her apple pies, apple tarts, apple cider, and apple wine. (All of which were sold in various parts of Middle-Earth by her – uh – other employs) Of all the most curious things to sell, though, was the apple-wine. He had never heard of such a thing before in his life until Ginger showed him a bottle of it before they reached Gondor. But it seemed that at the very mention of apples Tohrein asked the one familiar question that Mrs. Opal generally got, “Pardon me, what?” Okay, so maybe it was a lot shorter than usual, but never the mind.

        Observing the woman, she seemed a bit put off by the idea and he chuckled a little, though seemingly at nothing. “Yes, apples. I did say it was something extremely simple, did I not?” He asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Though nothing seemed to register for a moment as she stood there looking completely taken aback by the whole idea. It didn’t matter whether or not she took it, Dénor just liked causing trouble for people, especially Mrs. Opal – as it was his only target that was accessible to him for the moment. Once he and Ginger reached Gondor he could play around with the minds of her dealers and just cause heartburn for his master when she didn’t get the price she wanted… all in bored fun! It wasn’t like he was up to mischief all the time, anyway. A little heartburn could do Ginger some good and even if he didn’t accomplish it in Gondor, he would find a different way to make her boring existence just a little more fun!

        During his privet thinking, several minutes of silence passed between them and Dénor was beginning to wonder if the woman was alright and perhaps he should call for a healer. He was about to go and do so before he remembered the delicate position he was in. He was tempted to tell her that he wasn’t exactly human, but honesty just wasn’t the right thing about now. With nothing much to do now than to find out her true answer, he let a quick breath escape his beak and he asked, “Your answer, Ms. Tohrein?” No sense in not being polite right?



        out of cookies|
        Well, that was annoyingly short but I was going to force a reply out of Dénor one way or another, I swear he's never not wanted to reply to a thread before... it is annoying.

        now, as to the direction of the thread if you want to have Vash just accpet and then be on her way - but not before she gets the address of Mrs. Widow Opal - we can end the thread?

        Vashti Ada Tohrein

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        « Reply #10 on: August 13, 2013, 03:55:00 AM »
          Carting
        apples.

        Silence. For several seconds no words were drawn from the mercenary’s lips; no thought was coherent enough to be strung into words. All that reverberated through her head again and again was a simple word - apples. Had sound not failed her, an incredulous laugh would have echoed from her lips. It was odd how such a simple, innocent thing mocked the mercenary in more ways that she thought it to be possible. It jeered in her direction, drawn-out screams and hoots clawing at the back of her head. It was laughing at her, this simple word, forcing her brow’s to knot and her mind to spin. Vashti shook her head slowly, hand raised unconsciously towards her temple. “Yes, quite simple.” She breathed, her eyes cast low and away from the shadowed owner of the voice. And so very definitely unexpected! Part of the woman was convinced that this was nothing but the nasty the result of an ill-placed joke; she stopped the sudden urge to glance over her shoulder and see the culprit hiding behind a corner.

        Honest work was harder to come by than the mercenary would admit to; especially when the job was thrust upon open hands. Even when the job was good enough, it always did require for the mercenary to take her blades up at one point or another; granted, something told the woman that this would not be quite what was expected of her. Unless, that is, there was something quite extraordinary about the red fruits. Though, again, Vashti highly doubted this would be the case. The mercenary kicked the back wall listlessly, a motion done without particular thought as she came to a stance. “Quite simple indeed.” Vashti repeated again, a silent prayer breathed between the pipe on her lips and the sharp air that entered her lungs. It was a prayer, the mercenary would never admit, used solely to reassure herself beyond anything else.

        Pale fingers ran on the side of her lips, pulling at them gently before they nestled on the neck of her pipe. She took the item without flourish, orange embers dumped into the moist road with a single tap. Into the darkness, Vashti’s eyes flickered up, searching for the unknown owner of the voice she had been speaking too. She shrugged her shoulders lazily then, before her eyes drifted close, “Very well then. Apples it will be.” After all, how hard could the job prove to be?[/li][/list]ooc; It was a lovely post though, Hades. But, yeah, I think this thread should be about ready to be wrapped up ^ - ^

        Dénor

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        « Reply #11 on: August 21, 2013, 10:17:00 PM »
        If she was going to take the job had failed to even give the slightest hint! Perhaps Dénor had been a fool to try and offer a job that he knew Mrs. Opal would give the traveler no matter what her previous employment was. She was silent for several, long, annoying minutes. His orange eyes narrowed in the darkness and a little closer towards the center of town he could hear the carnival going on as thought nothing was happening that shouldn’t be. Little did Dénor know, his master was being chased through the streets at this very hour by someone who was desperate to keep his secret, secret. It was going to be a long night, Dénor could feel his stomach starting to slowly develop hunger pains. If Tohrien didn’t make up her mind he was going to give up and try for someone else, someone that Ginger would most likely kill on the road half way to Gondor… or hire someone to kill the person once they reached the White City! No, Ginger wasn’t the murdering type… she would probably just get over it and hope to never the person again. There was very little that could actually push the Elf to commit murder. ‘It would be bad for business…’ She kept saying every time he mentioned it.

        Yes, quite simple.” The woman said, snapping Dénor out of his thoughts and back to the matte at claw. She seemed to think about it some more before decided to repeat her previous statement. If the owl could have rolled his eyes he would have, but instead he kept silent, suppressing a sigh that desired to leave his beak and break into the silence that had once again rolled over them. The woman sure did take a long time to think about things! Finally, the woman moved, emptying her pipe onto the damp floor on which she was standing and shrugged her shoulders, “Very well, then. Apples it will be.” Good! The owl had already given up on her, though, by the time she announced her decision. Very well then, indeed! This was to be an interesting trip to Gondor. Good, Dénor could have done with a little excitement, not to mention Ginger… who was a dead beet… the poor thing!

        Wonderful,” He said, “You can find Mrs. Opal Widow at four-five-five Dock Street, if she asks who sent you… just say a current tenant of your upstairs room…” He chuckled and added, “Strange I know, but she’ll understand.” Now the difficulty was leaving. Ms. Tohrien must have thought by now that she was speaking to someone of the two-legged, non-flying variety of beings that inhabited most of Middle-Earth. Shrugging he lifted his wings and with a few flaps he was in the air, heading up between the rooftops to see if he could snag a cat for a night time snack…    

        o o c |
        Sorry if it is a bit short. I don't know if you want to go ahead and rolepaly the interaction between Vash and Mrs. Opal or not... If not, then this thread if complete! *throws a potential party*

        Vashti Ada Tohrein

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        « Reply #12 on: August 22, 2013, 11:23:00 PM »
          The impromptu meeting was coming to an end; the offer wrapped up in agreement by both parties. Coin had not once been mentioned, nor had the amount of time this prospective job would take her away, but Vashti seemed rather uninterested in both at the time. After all, how much could the woman expect from such a simple task? All that Vashti could do was nod her head in understanding, committing the address - and the woman’s name - to memory. She could try to, at the very least, make a good impression if given the opportunity; especially if she were to be traveling with her en route to Gondor. Dénor’s voice, never lacking to make itself known, rung through the shadow’s again. Vashti’s eyes flickered in direction for her unknown companion, brow quirked in mild amusement at what he shared next.

        “...if she asks who sent you… just say a current tenant of your upstairs room…  Strange I know, but she’ll understand.”

        So it was going to be that sort of meeting. “Ooh how very cloak and dagger!” Vashti cooed, lips curled into a fox-like simper.  “I suppose there will be pass codes involved as well?” The mercenary would be terribly disappointed if that were not the case. After all, what was secrecy without a desperate attempt to hide job propositions behind complex phrases full of unnecessary flourish? Granted, the majority of these embellishments fell short amongst the most experienced of her colleagues. Nevertheless, the taunts and jeers that followed did little to dissuade employers from continuing to use them. The mercenary propped a hand against her hip, “How about,” she started thoughtfully, “the showers were early this year; left a lot of weeds to be pruned, so I hear?” Silence.  No? Well, she could do her best, of that Vashti was sure, but at the very least she had tried.

        Vashti furrowed her brow as she studied the darkness further, but found no silhouette, or voice, to make Dénor’s presence known. The mercenary’s hands dropped listlessly to her side, eyes never parting from the shadows the male had made his own. In a display encouraged by curiosity, the mercenary stepped forward, hand outstretched. When her fingers should have made contact by fabric or the figure of a man, Vashti felt the cold prick of stone. What in the world... Her freehand soon joined the first, examining the clearly empty space.

        There was nothing. Absolutely nothing but the wall from the neighboring building. Vashti clicked her tongue, “Well, that was not strange whatsoever.” But then again, these were strange times with quite a few peculiar tidings, to put things mildly.  Still, having someone vanish into thin air as if they were nothing but the fanciful result of a tired mind was not particularly comforting to the mercenary.  Part of her thought of leaving now that this so called Dénor was no where to be found, of avoiding the job he had offered and simply melting away into the vastness of Middle Earth. Yet Vashti remained rooted to the ground, hand nestled on the uneven wall. She patted the wall once, an incredulous laugh leaving her. Well, no one was going to believe this! A job fell into her lap and her would-be employer disappeared into thin air. At least it made for quite the story.

        Vashti smiled with mild amusement as her fingers fell from the damp wall, vest shrugged closer to her frame. What was the worst that could happen?[/li][/list]
        ooc; [/brings party hats] I believe we are done with this thread~! Also, sorry for the short length - was multitasking the majority of the day ^ - ^’’

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