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Post by Chota Vana on Jan 1, 2011 21:29:18 GMT -5
((OPENNN! OPEN, OPEN, OPEN! The more the MERRIER! Posting order and etc., other than that, OPENN! XD )) Chota hadn’t bothered to wait for Elliot. As soon as he was in the tavern, he had crossed the room and sat in his normal spot, at that dark corner at the end of the bar where he would normally not be noticed. A rather skeptical bartender approached him, to which he said those two words that he had recited so many times before. “The usual,” he uttered in a casual tone, and watched the bartender cross his arms. “Don’t worry, someone else is picking up the tab,” he added, shrugging. He couldn’t count on one hand the number of times he had to pay off his tab by doing janitorial work in a tavern. Such was the life of a man who avoided his work. At those words, the bartender had nodded slowly and set about getting this mysterious ‘usual’ drink of Chota’s. And as he did, Chota looked up to see if Elliot had caught up yet. Even from where he sat, Chota was sure he wasn’t that inconspicuous, especially with his pure white, brand-new tunic on. Even so, he waved silently toward the door in the hopes that that would be an obvious enough sign to Elliot when he showed up. And with that out of the way, he took the glass he was offered by the bartender. Ale. Good old cheap, strong ale. Chota took a swig of it, flinching at the combining flavor and scent, then placed the glass rather loudly on the bar. Ale was good and all, but... Chota’s eyes narrowed a bit and a grin crossed his face as a thought occurred to him. If Elliot was paying, maybe his next drink would be of the stronger, more expensoive variety...
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Post by Elliot Siva on Jan 1, 2011 22:00:35 GMT -5
And of course, Chota didn’t even have the patience to wait for the guy who’d offered to pay. Elliot shrugged; by now, after the rats and rooftops, he wasn’t surprised. It was an interesting change from his normal, solo schedule, however. He followed Chota into the bar. It was easy to find him; the white tunic was painfully conspicuous.
He reached the table in time to stop the bartender and simply ask for whatever Chota had gotten. As he took his seat, he noticed a devious sort of grin painting Chota’s face. Definitely not a good sign, and Elliot had a good guess at what the other werecat was thinking of. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he warned. “I’m not buying you whatever your little heart desires. My generosity has a limit.”
As he finished his sentence, the bartender came back with Elliot’s drink. Grateful for a tangible reward to all the crazed roof travel of the day, he immediately brought the mug to his lips and drank. “So,” he said, setting the mug back down. “Is the bowyer business really so bad that you’re stuck in an alley, or was that some fault of your own?”
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Post by Chota Vana on Jan 2, 2011 9:19:59 GMT -5
Chota raised a brow at Elliot and managed not to smile or frown at his warning, instead taking another swig of the ale. He closed his eyes as he placed the glass on the bar again, half full—or half empty to some. His ears were at work, his greatest strength. He could hear the conversations going on around them. Nothing new; a few particularly worthy sales going on around town, as well as some man’s mention of his first child. Chota snorted lightly. Poor sap. But then his eyes opened again suddenly, focusing on Elliot. A grin crossed his lips again. It was the perfect opening to lay on the sympathy. It was true that Chota didn’t really work from that alley, nor did he live there, and also that he simply avoided work because of the misery it caused him, but how much fun would it be to say that? He sighed lightly and took another swig, to put on that he really didn’t fancy talking about it, but he did anyway. He cleared his throat. “It’s terrible. No one’s interested in my style of bow anymore. They’re all into the ‘recurve’ or the ‘crossbow’. Granted, I can craft those, too, but I haven’t the reputation and so I haven’t the customers,” he rattled off, placing his glass more gently onto the bar again. A glance at Elliot would tell him whether he was hitting home or not. Or so he thought. Damn, Elliot was a tough one to read. He closed his eyes once more, though he didn’t return to his eavesdropping just yet. “I’d give it up and find a new job in the city, but it was a family business. Dear old dad would roll in his grave if he knew I just dropped it here and now,” he added with a shrug. That wasn’t entirely true, for his dad and his mom had retired to Feryn years ago and as far as he knew, they were still kickin’. The family business part... Chota disguised a chuckle by sipping at his ale again. Sure, his dad had taught him, but he never made a business out of it. That was Chota’s own idea, and what a rotten one it was. He managed a glance at Elliot again, wondering how the fellow werecat would take that little story.
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Post by Elliot Siva on Jan 2, 2011 22:16:53 GMT -5
Well, reluctant as he seemed, Chota put up a decent sob story. Elliot drowned his sarcasm in another swig of ale, giving the bowyer time to say all he needed before any quips flew back in reply. Elliot sighed, mentally reminding himself that a grave-robber wasn’t really in the place to give perfect career advice. Sure it was a job, but only by certain loose standards. (He did glance up at the mention of ‘grave,’ but it hadn’t been work-related after all, so he took another sip from his mug.)
“Understandable,” he started, absently swirling the ale in his mug and watching his dim reflection dance. “I wouldn’t trust a street-acrobat from the rooftops with arrow-making.” He looked up to lock eyes with Chota, sending a clear ‘I’m not letting that go just yet’ signal before returning to his drink. “I would think if you were eccentric enough to travel by roof, you’d have the courage to stage a presentation. Show off a bit. But that’s just me, and I am neither a bowyer nor a street merchant.”
He took another drink, a break in his dialogue. He let the soft yet sharp ‘clunk’ of mug on table accentuate his next word: “Furthermore, I think your father would roll more in his grave if you starved to death and joined him.” Elliot shrugged. “Something to consider.”
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Post by Chota Vana on Jan 3, 2011 9:14:48 GMT -5
Chota managed a grin, listening to Elliot take a shot at his mode of transportation. It was fun, wasn’t it? But he dared not voice that thought, for after all, he had just told his made-up sob story. He pursed his lips and managed to add a frown in there somewhere, which only ended up giving him a supposed-to-look-sad goofy look. He closed his eyes with this and tried to produce a tear... But he simply couldn’t, and so he listened while sitting like that, hunched forward, as Elliot administered some advice. Eliminating the lip-pursing, but not the frown, Chota looked to Elliot slowly. “Demonstration? Never thought of that,” he said. Never WANTED to think of that, he corrected in his mind as he finished the last gulp of ale in his glass. He waved at the bartender to signal he wanted another glass, then closed his eyes again and leaned back in his seat, his hands behind his head. “Really, though, who would take such a grubby bum as I seriously in a demonstration,” he put in, hoping that would stave off any expectations Elliot might have had to see Chota on a stage in the next days, showing off his products. As the bartender brought on his next round of ale, Chota listened to Elliots last bit of advice. Ah, he made a point. Chota managed to glance at him as he hunched forward again, grasping the fresh glass in one fist while the other sat idly on the bar. “Yes, that’s true, but...” He tacked in a light sigh as he paused there. “...I’d hate to let him down and ruin the business after all the work he put into it in life...” He forced away a smile as he thought of what his father would say, knowing Chota was spreading that he was dead. Actually, he might’ve been happy for the peace it brought. Chota raised a brow at that thought, absently taking a swig of his new ale. Then he glanced at Elliot again and decided it wouldn’t be good for the sake of his current level of sympathy to run off with his thoughts. He brought another frown to his face and waited for Elliot's response to that.
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Post by Elliot Siva on Jan 3, 2011 21:31:34 GMT -5
‘Grubby’ said the man in a new, pristine white tunic that practically glittered in the sunlight. Elliot sighed, waving his own hand with Chota’s to ask for a second on the ale. He’d need it, at the rate this fool went on.
“Well, not much I can say, then,” he sighed. “You seem completely set on living a beggar’s life and sleeping with rats in an alley.” Completely calm, he turned down to his mug, inspected the thin layer of ale resting at the bottom, then finished it off. Right on cue, the bartender returned, replacing their drinks without a word.
“Enough about your lethargy,” Elliot decided, taking a drink. A new mug, a new topic. Sounded about right. “Heard anything good lately? Someone careless talking near your alley?”
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Post by Chota Vana on Jan 4, 2011 10:33:40 GMT -5
Chota shrugged, ignoring as a bit of the ale held carelessly in his hand spilled over with the motion. “It’s a pretty good life, believe it or not,” he put in, though he wholeheartedly agreed to change the subject. It was too tiring trying to keep up the charade. He smiled, his glass to his mouth, and yet he still managed not to spill any on his new tunic. Placing the glass on the table again, he gave Elliot a glance, then closed his eyes. “I’ve heard quite a lot. Plenty just while sitting here,” he said, hoping to pique Elliot’s curiosity. “But nothing too important.” He slyly glanced toward Elliot, though his gaze fixed on the table behind him, empty save for some abandoned mugs and a dirty rag. It gave him something to stare at anyway. “I can share, though, for the right price,” he added mischievously. Not that anything he had heard would really be of interest to Elliot, but it could be a quick way to make some money. And heck, Elliot fell for that little sob story of his so maybe he was a sucker. Chota grinned at the thought.
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Post by Elliot Siva on Jan 5, 2011 7:51:09 GMT -5
((Sorry, it's a bit short. >.< ))
“I’m sure it is,” Elliot muttered. A good life...Now he started to see through Chota’s tale. Curse his own good-will. “Have fun with the rats.”
As for information, Chota had heard some not-too-important information, but he tried to sell it off for coin. Tasteless, trying to sell trivial gossip to the man who was already covering today’s tab. Elliot looked to Chota’s mug, then the man himself, and shrugged. “Well, looks like that will be your last paid-for round of the day,” he said, sipping his own ale.
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Post by Chota Vana on Jan 7, 2011 20:08:53 GMT -5
Chota's hand tightened on his glass. Oops, that was a bit of a slip. And now, apparently, his free ride in the tavern was over. Tch. He didn't even have a buzz yet. His expression revealed nothing of his disappointment, though he looked from the table behind the fellow werecat to Elliot himself. He raised a brow. “I can take a hint,” he put in, his gaze moving to the wall to his right. He spared a second’s glance for his slowly-diminishing remaining ale, wondering how he could make it last any longer than it would normally. He couldn’t, he figured, guzzling the last of it in one breath and clunking the glass down as quickly as he had raised it to his lips. “Well, your loss,” he said in a louder voice, as if to challenge Elliot’s curiosity. That wasn’t gonna work, and he knew that just from the short time he’d spent with the other werecat. Maybe THAT was why he never went to Feryn. His kind was so temperamental... He looked longingly toward the bartender, but made no motions as per Elliot’s last statement. This was going to be a long afternoon. Still not betraying his somewhat-more-foul mood, though, he managed a smile and looked almost evilly at Elliot. “What about you? You hear anything interesting?” He asked only because he knew Elliot knew he had no cash. So either Elliot would share or he would zip it, and perhaps once that happened, Chota could go back to listening. One could never know what they’d pick up in a tavern like the Boar, even if the surface conversations seemed boring...
((Sorry, lame reply. XD My brain hurts from the past couple days I've had.))
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Post by Elliot Siva on Jan 8, 2011 23:22:19 GMT -5
“I heard a funny rumor about two crazies hopping rooftops,” Elliot muttered, downing the last of his ale and waving to the bartender for one more. He usually stopped at two or three, and the opportunity to subtly taunt Chota made for a perfect excuse to make today a ‘three’ day. He swapped his empty mug for a new one and took another gulp before continuing: “Really, though, I haven’t heard much. Only been in Cados a few days.”
He thought back, trying to recall anything interesting he’d come upon traveling as well as in town. Mostly, he’d heard rumors, but he didn’t hear (or listen for) most of them often enough to check their validity. “I did hear that the army was gathering, and that the wereanimals were involved, but I can’t say it’s true,” he mumbled, tracing circles into the table. “Aside from that, hardly anything worthwhile. But then again, I’m not much to pry.”
((Nyeehhh, even lamer. >.< I'm kinda time-wise clueless, so holler if I'm out-of-place on my 'rumor.'))
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