Post by Blaka on Jun 8, 2016 12:04:25 GMT -5
Music
Quiet was the melody that sounded through the small room. The guitarist's fingers were sliding across the strings, coaxing beautiful chimes out of it. A calming, soothing sound, supported by the rhytmic taps of the musician's foot every once in a while. All of the present patrons, only half a dozen, but still, were quietly listening. The song told of past betrayals, fights fought and lost long ago, wounds so old that only faint scars were left behind by now. It also was about coming to terms with these, moving on. Each and every person in the audience could spin his own memories around this concept.
That was why Lila liked it so much. Songs that told a story of days long gone, ones that could rip her from the darkness she kept falling into. This one especially though, as it spoke the through. It didn't trick the listener with a false tune of happiness and joy. It acknowledged that things were and would be rough, but told you not to mind too much.
Both eyes closed, the blonde sat there in the corner on her barchair, strumming her problems away for a few minutes. Still on the lookout for her lost Crew, Miss Akuvutika had arrived in Illias earlier this evening. Just in time before the stores closed, she had been able to find something to wear that was appropriate for the local area: A fine dark blue longdress, just one note short of being pitchblack. A high cut collar was shut tight by a tiny crimson ribbon halfway up her neck. Same went for the puffy sleeves, which had similar ribbons tightening the fabric near her wrists. Shoes though, she hadn't managed to catch. Thankfully the dress was still long enough to cover her gray furry boots, otherwise they would have looked pretty mismatched.
Previously unbeknownst to her, outside of the noble district, Kulira's clothing seemed awfully out of place anyway. People around here used to wear simply brown, not fancy colours. Naturally, the customer base of the first inn she had found reflected that. Granted, she had picked a bit of a remote location, in some side alley. The wooden walls were moulding, the bugs eating away at the furniture. Dirty rags or a stained shirt here and there were the norm. As were sad gazes into their beers and an occasional loud burp. Only one of the patrons stuck out just as much as the musical maiden herself. A round, middleaged man in a likely customised fitting yellow and gray checkered suit jacket, suspiciously silk looking orange pants and shiny leather shoes.
As the music finished playing, he was the one who applauded the loudest.
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravohohoho! Simply great!" he cheered "A well deserved round of applause for this fine lady!"
Turning to the barman, the chubby fellow whispered something before coming over to the entertainer.
"Say madam..." he began, loudness of his voice slightly turned down as if he didn't want the others listening in. Clearly however, they could understand every word since nobody else was making any noise in this sorry joint. All aroun eye-rolling and sighs followed "I'd never speak ill of a venue I own myself, but this is a slight too low for your standards is it not?"
Interpreting the lady's smile when she opened her eyes as an affirmative gesture, he nervously wiped with a kerchief over his bowlingball-esque bald head before carrying on:
"I can lead you to the inner city if you want? Something more fitting, where they'll appreciate your instrumental skills properly."
Cheteria was simply smiling because of the good mood guitars awakened inside her. But she realised the night could still get vastly enternaining if she just went along with it.
"Thank you sir!" she chirped "I was planning on leaving anyway."
"Bravohoho! Follow me then. Don't mind any drinks you had, it's on the house - effectively on me...It always pays to come look at what you're paying for."
Shortly afterwards, the jolly stranger to the right and his company to the left stepped out into the mild night of Illias. Here in the outer ring, the streets were dark and narrow, barely a lantern at every second corner or so. At this hour, they were relatively empty too. Perfect! Her heart began pounding as the rush of excitement of what would soon follow rose inside her.
"So, Miss, can I ask your name?" the rich man nervously inquired
"Shrihi! Sure can." she grinned "Kulira Cheteria Akuvutika. You can call me Chete, for the few minutes you have left."
"Bravohoho! What a long name. Gladly, I'll go with Chete. I'm Sir Berach Dempsey, nobleman under the proud king and owner of over fortyf- wait what did you say?"
"You heard me."
Before Sir Dempsey could ask any further questions, Chete had grabbed his left shoulder tight and was ready to dislocate it in one quick snap. Yet she had not expected her well-heeded victim to have the reflexes he swiftly presented. Seemingly out of nowhere, more likely out of his sleeve, a sharp stilletto appeared in his hand.
"Let go of me!" he hissed with a panicked, high pitched voice as he burried the blade in his attacker's right shoulder. To his luck, he even hit a flesh, right where her prostetic arm ended and her real body began. Of course, he would never have known his luck, but it hardly mattered.
"KYYYYAAA!" Kulira's painful scream echoed through the night.
Quiet was the melody that sounded through the small room. The guitarist's fingers were sliding across the strings, coaxing beautiful chimes out of it. A calming, soothing sound, supported by the rhytmic taps of the musician's foot every once in a while. All of the present patrons, only half a dozen, but still, were quietly listening. The song told of past betrayals, fights fought and lost long ago, wounds so old that only faint scars were left behind by now. It also was about coming to terms with these, moving on. Each and every person in the audience could spin his own memories around this concept.
That was why Lila liked it so much. Songs that told a story of days long gone, ones that could rip her from the darkness she kept falling into. This one especially though, as it spoke the through. It didn't trick the listener with a false tune of happiness and joy. It acknowledged that things were and would be rough, but told you not to mind too much.
Both eyes closed, the blonde sat there in the corner on her barchair, strumming her problems away for a few minutes. Still on the lookout for her lost Crew, Miss Akuvutika had arrived in Illias earlier this evening. Just in time before the stores closed, she had been able to find something to wear that was appropriate for the local area: A fine dark blue longdress, just one note short of being pitchblack. A high cut collar was shut tight by a tiny crimson ribbon halfway up her neck. Same went for the puffy sleeves, which had similar ribbons tightening the fabric near her wrists. Shoes though, she hadn't managed to catch. Thankfully the dress was still long enough to cover her gray furry boots, otherwise they would have looked pretty mismatched.
Previously unbeknownst to her, outside of the noble district, Kulira's clothing seemed awfully out of place anyway. People around here used to wear simply brown, not fancy colours. Naturally, the customer base of the first inn she had found reflected that. Granted, she had picked a bit of a remote location, in some side alley. The wooden walls were moulding, the bugs eating away at the furniture. Dirty rags or a stained shirt here and there were the norm. As were sad gazes into their beers and an occasional loud burp. Only one of the patrons stuck out just as much as the musical maiden herself. A round, middleaged man in a likely customised fitting yellow and gray checkered suit jacket, suspiciously silk looking orange pants and shiny leather shoes.
As the music finished playing, he was the one who applauded the loudest.
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravohohoho! Simply great!" he cheered "A well deserved round of applause for this fine lady!"
Turning to the barman, the chubby fellow whispered something before coming over to the entertainer.
"Say madam..." he began, loudness of his voice slightly turned down as if he didn't want the others listening in. Clearly however, they could understand every word since nobody else was making any noise in this sorry joint. All aroun eye-rolling and sighs followed "I'd never speak ill of a venue I own myself, but this is a slight too low for your standards is it not?"
Interpreting the lady's smile when she opened her eyes as an affirmative gesture, he nervously wiped with a kerchief over his bowlingball-esque bald head before carrying on:
"I can lead you to the inner city if you want? Something more fitting, where they'll appreciate your instrumental skills properly."
Cheteria was simply smiling because of the good mood guitars awakened inside her. But she realised the night could still get vastly enternaining if she just went along with it.
"Thank you sir!" she chirped "I was planning on leaving anyway."
"Bravohoho! Follow me then. Don't mind any drinks you had, it's on the house - effectively on me...It always pays to come look at what you're paying for."
Shortly afterwards, the jolly stranger to the right and his company to the left stepped out into the mild night of Illias. Here in the outer ring, the streets were dark and narrow, barely a lantern at every second corner or so. At this hour, they were relatively empty too. Perfect! Her heart began pounding as the rush of excitement of what would soon follow rose inside her.
"So, Miss, can I ask your name?" the rich man nervously inquired
"Shrihi! Sure can." she grinned "Kulira Cheteria Akuvutika. You can call me Chete, for the few minutes you have left."
"Bravohoho! What a long name. Gladly, I'll go with Chete. I'm Sir Berach Dempsey, nobleman under the proud king and owner of over fortyf- wait what did you say?"
"You heard me."
Before Sir Dempsey could ask any further questions, Chete had grabbed his left shoulder tight and was ready to dislocate it in one quick snap. Yet she had not expected her well-heeded victim to have the reflexes he swiftly presented. Seemingly out of nowhere, more likely out of his sleeve, a sharp stilletto appeared in his hand.
"Let go of me!" he hissed with a panicked, high pitched voice as he burried the blade in his attacker's right shoulder. To his luck, he even hit a flesh, right where her prostetic arm ended and her real body began. Of course, he would never have known his luck, but it hardly mattered.
"KYYYYAAA!" Kulira's painful scream echoed through the night.