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Post by Lumikki Piirka on Mar 26, 2011 19:53:18 GMT -5
*cough*
WHILE PAT DECIDES TO STOP PLAYING MINECRAFT AND POST, Malcom and Ashemir and Draven will be dicking around in the tavern.
This takes place in the early morning before the battle starts.
Uhhhh, Keith can post first. Yaaaaay.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 26, 2011 20:12:12 GMT -5
THUNK thunk thud clomp skiff...
The only time Malcolm ever wished his stairs were taller was when he had something to kick down them. For example, a crack-skulled blood-drained corpse that a lazy pair of vampires ditched in the upper room. It was fun watching the limbs flail, but it only fell for so long, and then he had to lug it the rest of the way out to ditch in an alley, where he could be passed off as a victim of the attack.
Sighing, Malcolm half-walked half-shuffled down the stairs and grabbed the poor sap by the shoulders, dumped him into an old barrel with as many holes as it had planks of wood, and rolled it out to the nearest dark, damp alley. That was good enough.
With the corpse disposed of, Valmar’s booze-supply shipped out, and the bar closed for another day, he decided it was about time he checked on the lovebirds. As funny as it would be to see them sleep right through the battle, it probably wouldn’t help him keep the higher-up’s favor. He made sure to stomp as loudly as possible on his way back up the stairs (just in case the dropping of the corpse hadn’t woken them up yet), then decided to pass on knocking and simply throw the door open.
“It’s morning,” he sang, catching the door as it rebounded off the wall. “Sorry, no breakfast in bed. I trust you two are capable enough to find someone if you want to, though I don’t have any faith in your cleaning responsibility.”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 26, 2011 20:26:12 GMT -5
Oh, he had tried to ignore the body falling down the stairs, but now the stupid innkeeper was making it difficult to ignore anything at all. With a rattle of chains, Ashemir practically jumped out of bed in surprise when the door slammed into the wall, looking back and seeing Draven there, and he glad for the abundance of clothes still on their person. Not that it might have mattered much anyway; the innkeeper looked like a gossiper...
His gaze returned to Malcom sharply, "If you need a maid, then hire one, because I'm not it."
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 26, 2011 20:31:31 GMT -5
Draven was a slower to rise, though not by much. He sat bolt upright, wincing at the shot through his side, and stared at Malcolm for a moment. What the hell was that about? He was trying to sleep! With a disgruntled look, he slowly stretched and yawned, then looked at Ashemir. He didn't seem to happy by the annoying interuption of sleep as well. He moved to the edge of the bed and sat, looking between the two. "You're lucky I can't come after you well, Malcolm, or I might just have to rip your arms off for all the damn noise," he grumbled, sounding groggy. "Any reason you chose to wake us up?"
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 26, 2011 20:43:34 GMT -5
“You don’t have to sweep the floors, but it would be nice if you’d throw out any conspicuous dead bodies before they start to smell,” Malcolm said.
And of course, Draven had to pipe up with a ‘If only I wasn’t so weak/old/girly...’ threat. Malcolm had to consciously keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Actually, yes,” he replied. “I figured Ashemir wouldn’t want to miss today’s battle. And...” He paused, recalling a few questions that the meeting had kept him from answering earlier. “...I wanted to ask you two questions.”
He took a moment to settle himself against the doorframe before continuing. “Ashemir can answer too, if he knows. First–” He held up one finger, in case poor wounded Draven was too tired to keep track. “–was that lazy twit Travis any use against your brother, or did I let him go for no reason? And second–” Another finger rose to join the other. “–did you happen to see my brother? Named Markus, very short, looks like me if I were a nine-year-old goody-two-shoes brat?”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 26, 2011 20:53:55 GMT -5
When it looked like Malcom was content to hold them hostage until they answered his questions, Ashemir sat on the edge of the bed with Draven. Draven... being all macho again. The blonde himself might be able to catch the innkeeper, but he wasn't about to offer. If Seriah was staying the night here, it would be more than Ashemir would like to explain if he was found chasing Malcom all around the tavern.
Travis... Ashemir wasn't about to reveal the ranger's plans to travel with a werewolf companion (even though Malcom would have loved that), no less that he hadn't stopped them on their expedition to rally the wereanimals. That strange man knew, though, that man at the meeting that Valmar had brought in, who had seen him conversing with Analisia. ...That man had to die, when Valmar wasn't looking. At the mention of Markus, Ashemir quirked a brow. "No, I haven't seen anyone like that. I hardly see children at all," Ashemir remarked. Of course, that was a lie, but until he had seen Markus, it had been entirely true.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 26, 2011 21:04:42 GMT -5
Draven still looked rather irritated with Malcolm but he crossed his arms and shrugged in response anyways. He even closed his eyes as if he were being defiant openly. "Haven't seen your brother, sorry," he stated, flat out lying. "And maybe I let the Ranger go because you're an ass. Actually, Travis wasn't even there when I came across Marrus." The corner of one side of his mouth turned up as he opened an eye and shot a dark look at the tavernmaster. Apparently Draven was in no mood to be questioned, or to be forced to answer. Instead, he stared straight at Malcolm with a look that was almost dark enough to kill, if that were at all possible. Being woken up had not set the bronze-eyed vampire in a good mood. "Why don't you go the hell away now that you've gotten your answers?" he shot, continuing to get even more rude as the minutes ticked by. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest even tighter, glaring now. How quick Draven launched into anger in the morning...
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 26, 2011 21:22:37 GMT -5
Malcolm mimicked Draven’s pout perfectly, right down to the annoying shrug. “All right. I’ll find them eventually,” he said. “You’re too nice, Draven. You should’ve worked that ranger for every cent of that debt.” ‘Then maybe Marrus wouldn’t have beat you so hard that you can only make pitiful threats and look like a furious puppy.’ Malcolm bit his lip, keeping back the last insult. Draven probably couldn’t catch him, but Ashemir might not have any qualms.
Draven, in some feat of raging determination (and stupidity), pulled himself to his feet and managed to look even more immature. Malcolm shrugged. Sure, Draven could stand up, but there had to be a limit to his energy. It wasn’t as though the mercenary was actually fighting in the battle soon to come; if the guy wore himself out storming and stomping about, that was his own problem.
“What if I happen to like this doorway?” Malcolm asked, stretching his arms up to brush his fingers against the rim of the frame. “A bit of an overreaction considering I only asked a few questions, don’t you think?”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 26, 2011 21:37:42 GMT -5
Oh God... Ashemir touched his fingers to his forehead, looking away as if Malcom would buy the 'I don't know this person, not at all' gesture. "It's his tavern, Draven. Let him stand there like a moron if he wants. It'll keep him from running into more wereanimals that I'd have to bail him out of, anyway..."
Well, might as well chat it up if they were going to be stuck here for a while. He dropped his hand, chain clinking as it fell. "Do you need to call your brother back for any particular reason?" he asked, tone switching disconcertingly fast between the last insulting statement and the recent curious question.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 26, 2011 21:48:37 GMT -5
Draven held back a deep, feral growl that had been building in his chest. He was NOT in the mood after being woken up in such a rude manner and then questioned as if he were being interogated. Wasn't it too early in the morning for this shit? He flopped back down on the bed, laying back with his hands behind his head. "Maybe if you weren't such a prick, slamming doors and bodies around and waking people up, I wouldn't be reacting like this, now would I?" he grumbled, though he figured he'd just stop talking. What was the point? Malcolm had proven himself to be an annoyance to someone who hadn't slept nearly enough. Draven closed his eyes, brows still furrowed, and just listened, forcing himself to keep silent. He didn't need to get more angry and do something really stupid, like go after Malcolm and end up getting himself hurt even worse.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 26, 2011 22:07:00 GMT -5
Malcolm smiled. Neither of them were willing to chase him down, so he could keep his spot. True, he didn’t have any more questions, but sometimes it was fun just to defy people. “Thank you, Ashemir,” he said, ignoring the second part of the statement (and Draven’s continued tantrum).
Either way, he was more than happy to follow Ashemir’s lead and change topics. “I don’t necessarily need to call him back, I just need to find him,” Malcolm explained. “Actually, it might be better if he wasn’t here. It would be easier to get away with murder in a town where people wouldn’t recognize me.”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 26, 2011 23:24:22 GMT -5
When Draven flopped down on the bed again, Ashemir blindly patted his arm. There, there; after the battle we can get you a little horse and cart carving! Thankfully, the blonde was a little better at being ingenuine, and manipulating people. But when Malcom explained his ultimate goal, Ashemir's brows raised in honest surprise. Okay, that landed the innkeeper in the bottom rung of some of his least favorite people, as if Malcom held a high position in the first place. But offending the innkeeper might be one of the worst things he could do. Sure, Malcom was like him in some ways, not necessarily a powerful person, tended to be in the background before the gears of war started turning, but the innkeeper was exactly that, an innkeeper. He could collect and control information about people, both truth and lies, a powerful tool among those that lacked physical strength, and the blonde was sure that he could count on Malcom being cunning and vindictive when it came down to it. "Why murder him? He's your family," he pointed out in a gentler tone.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Mar 27, 2011 9:33:03 GMT -5
Draven continued to listen, his anger slowly fading to a dull flame. He yawned, which was not really from being tired but more from boredom. Idiot Malcolm woke him up and now all he wanted to talk about was murdering his brother. Huh, didn't that sound familiar...? He snorted quietly, shaking his head. Like he would tell Malcolm he'd seen Markus. No way. Markus was a neat little kid and he wasn't about to let the boy's older, bastard brother touch him. He snorted again, this time smiling a small smile. That made him feel a bit better. Draven could keep Malcolm on a wild goose chase and Markus would be same! How fun that would be! He even chuckled lightly, an almost inaudible sound.
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Post by Malcolm Selder on Mar 27, 2011 15:57:04 GMT -5
“Because he’s a conniving demon-child who ruined my life,” Malcolm said, as though that explained all there was to know of it. “He ought to be dead now anyway. I’ll be doing the world a favor.”
He stopped afterwards to watch the two of them. Ashemir had sounded...different on that second question. A sort of ‘I’m being nice because I have to’ tone. And Draven was shaking his head, smiling... “Well,” Malcolm said, turning to the ceiling, “at least I know I can kill my brother without nearly dying.” He glanced at Draven from the corner of his eye. “What did Marrus do to you, anyhow?”
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Mar 28, 2011 12:13:16 GMT -5
"That's not a very concrete reason...." Ashemir said to Malcom. Sure, he could CALL Valmar the spawn of Satan who deserved to die by having a pike run through his entire body, but it didn't touch on the general's offenses. He didn't believe Markus was nearly as bad as Malcom claimed, but the blonde was thoughtful enough to consider the possibility that the small boy was playing everyone like violins. Or pianos. When Draven was given a question, Ashemir's violet gaze turned to the other vampire. Draven might as well tell the story... he might be able to spare some of his dignity that way.
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