2021-08-12-Blood Writing In Bars

Blood Writing In Bars

Summary: Saraphi and Bicean meet in Grimswald's Tavern! Who: Bicean, Saraphi When: August 12, 2021 Where: Distant Oceans: Grimswald's Tavern

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC). This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved. Questions should be directed to staff. Griswold's Tavern You've entered Griswold's Tavern, a staple of humble village life. In the dim light, the rough, worn surfaces of the bar-top and the tables and chairs seem to soften a touch. Still, the flickering light reveals some of the tavern's secrets etched into those great slabs of wood. This place has seen things and the furniture is lousy with nicks and scratches that tell the tales. Whole chunks are missing out of some of the tables and at least one wall has been patched on multiple occasions. There's even a hand axe embedded so far into the bar it has become a landmark feature. Charm, they call it. This place has plenty of...charm. Faces stay hidden in the shadows, and the patrons largely ignore any new entrant, keeping their business to themselves. Some gamble, some spin elaborate yarns, while others drown their sorrows at the bottom of a pint...or twelve. Either way, there's plenty of room to accommodate newcomers. A dozen or so tables fill the room and several booths line the walls for more private drunkenness. If you're willing to risk the nightly brawl, there's no better place for a pint! Cheers! Bottom's up, traveler! Saraphi notices being eyeballed by the newcomer as she's mid taking a sip from her mug and quirks a brow. It's not nice to stare after all. She decides to let it go and mind her own business for now. It's not like Bicean's caused her any trouble or anything yet. Bicean walks past Saraphi and up towards the bar. She drums her fingers on the counter and the bartender comes over, they exchange a few things about the quality of food. "Menu?" She takes the parchment with...terrible handwriting on it from the barkeep and turns around. She doesn't trust HIS opinion on the food. He works here. She eyes the patrons over...someone has to know, someone who's eaten... She walks over to Saraphi's table, "Will you tell me about the food here? Is it good quality?" Her stomach rumbles. She grimaces. Saraphi puts her mug of ale down and sighs. Here we go! She looks up at Bicean from her seat and just gives her the 'okay' symbol with her hands by putting her thumb and index finger together and extending out the rest of her fingers. She doesn't seem like the talkative type. Bicean nods once, her twintails floating over her shoulders, "Yeah? Good then? What'd you order here?" She gestures at her plate. Maybe she shouldn't have picked this girl, but everyone else in the place looks even more shady, and it was dangerous enough getting here, what with the dangers of Senta and then the someone mentioned goblins or something... Saraphi thunks her head onto the table as she really was hoping there weren't going to be any follow up questions. She picks up her head and pulls the quill tucked into the bandages in her arm before jabbing it into said arm to draw some blood. She scribbles down something onto a nearby napkin and holds it up to show the inquiring girl. It reads: "Chicken, potatoes, bread" Bicean blinks and takes a light step back as she thunks her head. Woah. Did she pass out? No, no. She's okay. She looks around, worrying that maybe she did some kind of taboo by asking specific questions, but... "Oh!" She says as you jab her arm, holding her head and staggering before falling into a chair at the table. The blood drains from her face and she looks away, "Unpleasannnnt." She squirms as you scribble, "Do we not have ink? Have they not invented ink here?" She doesn't look right at Saraphi, in case she sees that blood, but then she's holding it up. What'd she draw? A spell or...who knows what? "Look...I'm already cursed in many ways, please, I was just asking about the food. I can go without making you harm yourself." She still hasn't looked at the napkin. Saraphi glares at Bicean annoyingly and slams her free hand on the table to try and get her to look in her direction before pointing aggressively at the note she wrote for her. She wrote it in her blood! It has to be important, right? Bicean grimaces, reaching a hand up to pull at one of her twintails. Ugh, now she's getting demanding at her. o O ( Stupid stomach, stupid body. ) Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. She takes in a deep breath, almost looks, then stops. She closes her eyes and takes in another breath, just calm down, don't worry about it. It's only blood, it's not a spell, surely not in public, right? "I don't know why I'm worried, it's not like you can steal my soul." She finally turns and looks at the napkin! It's...oh...the answer to her question. She gags a bit and then looks away, "Why. Why would you write that in your blood? I hrk..." If she had food in her, she'd probably puke it out about now. Saraphi sighs and scribbles with her quill once more onto the napkin before holding it up for her to read again. This time it has the following words added to it: "Always have blood. Not always ink." Bicean slowly calms her dry heaving down. The patrons of the nearby tables look at her annoyingly, one of them flicking a chunk of cold leftovers at her, it splocks on her shoulder and onto the floor. She grits her teeth and looks over at the offending table, but...she's not going to start a fight with someone over it, and she IS making pukey noises in an eating place, so she can't blame them. Maybe she should of stayed in the tower. She takes in a few more breaths, then turns and looks at the additional note, "That's true..." She'll look away, "But still. Uhf. Okay, chicken, potatoes, bread." She stands up, "Thank you." Saraphi chuckles at the flung food. Or at least she would if she wasn't mute. At any rate, the tiefling nods to Bicean before putting the napkin down and tucking away her quill back into her bloody bandages. Maybe she can finish off her ale in peace now, she thinks to herself. Bicean walks over to the bar, "I'll have what she had." She gestures back at Saraphi. The bartender looks her over and then holds out his hand, naming the amount of coin it costs. "Yes, I'm ready for this." She reaches into a small hidden pocket of her small skirt and pulls out...nothing! She frowns, feeling around again. Then again. Then patting the skirt! Then looking around the floor, back to the entrance. "Luna's soul..." She curses, then looks back to the man and smiles brightly, "I think I got pickpocketed, could you maybe help me out? I'm kind of starving today, and-" He walks away before she can finish her sentance. She holds her stomach which rumbles, drooping forward. "Augh..." Saraphi quirks a brow after overhearing the exchange between Bicean and the bartender. This girl can't really be this helpless, can she? She digs around in her pockets before slapping the tabletop in front of her again to try and get Bicean's attention once more before tossing a few gold coins in her direction. Hopefully she has a decent reaction time. Bicean looks towards the table slapping, since Saraphi used it to get her attentinon before she's a bit attuned to it. She blinks and then coins come flying! She reaches out to snag them and manages to catch one, the other bumps up off her hand and smacks into her left eye. She yelps, then quickly snags the coin after it hits the ground. She then ambles back upright, smiling towards Saraphi, "Hey, thank you kind stranger!" She turns back to the bar and puts down the coin, clearing her throat to get the bartenders attention, who comes and takes the coin and says he'll get her food shortly. She turns around and walks back to Saraphi's table, sitting down across from her, "You're a life saver, my stomach is killing me. I have to eat now and then or I get really weak." Isn't that the way it is for...everyone? Saraphi stares at Bicean blankly as she plucks the quill out again and jabs her arm one more time before scribbling, "That's normal" onto another napkin before sliding it over to her. She never breaks eye contact with her the whole time she does this. Bicean stares right back at Saraphi as the tiefling jabs into her arm again. That's horrifying. She'll just stare forward and pretend there isn't blood coming out of someone and then being written down onto a napkin, because that would be wretched and make her start trying to puke again. Instead, she just waits for the napkin to slide over, then takes in a quick breath, looks down at it fast enough to read it and then look away again. Her face still pales, but she manages not to start heaving again. "Right, no. Right. It would be, wouldn't it? Ha." She brushes some bangs from her eyes, taking one of her twintails and twirling it around a finger, "I forget. I mean. It's problematic because my stomach still bothers me afterwards, but I don't start crawling on my hands in knees from fatigue. Maybe that's normal too. I haven't interacted with enough people for too long. Oh, I'm Bicean, by the way." Saraphi slides the napkin back towards herself before scribbling out some more with her blood-ink. Soon enough the napkin slides its way back over towards Bicean with newly added words. "Not normal. Saraphi." Bicean grimaces and looks up at the ceiling, "I'm just going to do my best to pretend you're not stabbing yourself to write with. That sounds like something Zoey would do, except I don't think she can read or write." She'll look at the note, nodding, "Mm, I thought not. I'm not quite right all around, but at least I haven't turned into a chair a table yet. Saraphi...that's pretty, angelic. Are you an angelic race?" Saraphi takes the napkin back and flips it over to a clean side. She's going to need more napkins if this keeps up! The girl shakes her head and she she writes down on the napkin, "Tiefling. Infernal." before passing it back over for Bicean to read. Her food gets set down by the bartender, a bit roughly. "Thanks." She says, smiling towards him as he walks off. She then looks back to the napkin. It's red ink, not blood for sure! Right? Right. "Haven't heard of it before, but I'm not well informed of lots of species. I was sick and bedridden most of my life." She starts eating, munching away. Ah, food. Finally. Her stomach rumbles in both protest and happiness. Saraphi scribbles yet again with some more of her blood onto the napkin before sliding it over for review. "Sick with what?" it reads. Bicean takes a few more bites. It's good. She'll pay for it later, but one has to eat. Or well, she prefers eating and not crawling around like a dying zombie when she doesn't. More blood writing. She shivers visibly, but swallows her food. o O ( It's red ink. NOT blood. ) She looks the note over, looking away quickly, "Terminal disease. Some kind of organ eating microbe got inside of me." She sighs, twirling one of her chunks of bread before taking a bite and swallowing, "I was going to die, for sure, no doubt, had maybe a few hours left when -he- showed up." She glances around, decides this establishment is one where it's allowed, and spits on the floor to emphasis her disgust. Saraphi quirks a brow and takes a moment before quickly writing, "Who's he?" in crimson. Bicean is already halfway through her food, apparently she prefers to snarf it down rather than savor it, with every swallow her stomach rumbles. She glances at the note, "Ugh. Accursed creature." She gestures with a chicken leg at Saraphi, "Goes by -Luna- now, after being reborn or some nonsense. Claims she's trying to -make up for all her past life's mistakes-. Yeah right. Monster convinced my parents to sell my soul to him in order to save my life. They signed it over to him, and then I got took on a GRAND adventure across dimensions, getting turned into furniture. If I could kill her, I would. Couldn't get out of that tower fast enough. Maybe I'll end up a starving zombie from lack of food, or some chair when someone gets to close to me and wants something to sit in, but at least I don't have to see her piece of dragon feces face anymore." Saraphi blinks and puts a finger to her chin as she thinks for just a second. It really seems like everyone seems to know this Luna person and souls seem to be a popular currency for some reasoin. She takes the quill to the napkin once more. Surely it will run out of space soon and she'll need another. "Why can't kill?" is all it says. Bicean is almost out of food already, but there's still a bit of bread left. She picks the piece up, but checks the note before biting into it, "Mm well." She gestures at herself, "For one, I'm not exactly suited for fighting. For two, I've never killed anyone in my life, what if it traumatizes me? There's also the fact that if I try it, she'd probably turn me into a footstool, or something worse, and make it so I couldn't change back. I guarantee her nonsense about not messing with souls is a lie. I bet she knows exactly where mine is too." She sighs, chewing into a piece of the bread, "Maybe if my parents had let me die my soul would be in heaven and I wouldn't have to deal with my curses." She looks at Saraphi, "I'm complaining a lot to a stranger, at least you don't seem irritated by it." Saraphi shrugs and takes a look at the napkin before deciding there's not enough room any longer for her to use that one. She reaches for a fresh one to write on before 'dipping' the quill into her arm for a fresh load of blood to write with. "Killing becomes easier overtime," the message reads. Bicean eyes the last piece of bread, looking at the crumbling edges, the small holes dotted within it. Last piece, then she better peace. She looks over at the note, she's getitng better at pretending it's red ink by this point. She raises an eyebrow, looking over at Saraphi. "That's...an interesting thing to say." She turns the bread over in her hand, "Hey, are you willing to kill people? Would you kill Luna for me?" She shifts in her chair, pushing one of her twintails from her shoulder, "I don't have money, someone stole it as you know. I can offer..." What CAN she offer? She sighs, "Myself. Any time you need some kind of furniture you need only touch me. Not forever though, I'd want to be released at some point from your service." Saraphi shakes her head. She doesn't really have any need for furniture. Also, she's most definitely not into keeping indentured servants or slaves let alone use them as objects. She really just leaves it at that. No need to write anything if she can just shake her head for a no response. Bicean frowns at that. "Dang. Small hopes." She shrugs and finishes the last piece of bread, her stomach protesting with an obnoxious gurgling. She puts her hand over it and sighs, then smiles at Saraphi, "Well, I have to say, it was great to meet you here. Thank you so much for paying for my meal, you don't know how important it is for me to eat every so often." She stands up, groaning slightly as pain hits her guts. Wonderful. "But, I need to head out before my stomach gets any louder than it already is." Saraphi smirks and offers a wave before tossing a few more coin in Bicean's direction in hopes that she'll catch them this time. What for? Who knows? Maybe she feels sorry for the girl, or maybe she's just feeling generous. Bicean catches them this time, seemingly a bit more dexterous now that she has some food in her. She laughs, "Really? Bless your soul. I'd say bless mine, but it's in a jar somewhere." She winks at Saraphi, holding the coins up between her fingers, "I won't forget your generosity. If I ever have a way to repay you, I'll do it. The Sornsalale family are known for returning favors. Although...who knows if my family line exists anymore, its been hundreds of years or more since I was taken, and I was an only child." Her stomach rumbles, loudly, like water gargling and sputtering down a drain. She grimaces, putting a hand over her stomach, "Peace. Love you." She winks and unless Saraphi does anything more she'll head briskly on out of the tavern. Saraphi blinks and blushes just a bit after hearing that last line. She quickly turns away to try and hide it. It's not often that she hears that from anyone. Let alone a stranger.