Fable - Ask Dust in the Wind

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Just a violin the next second. A solo performance. No violence. The music, of course, wasn’t as important as the conversation between two patrons at that moment. Though, perhaps it had provided a nice backdrop to their talk, whatever their measure of comfort.

Hands black with blood, she admitted, yet perhaps just as much with red, if her skin had touched any inch of a drunken patron’s since taken to this establishment’s exit. In the end, however, who here in this tavern had hands that weren’t black with blood? Stained in dirt or tainted in murder?

As she relaxed in her seat, matching his own posture, his eyebrow quivered for half a heartbeat. Her gesture was unexpected, to mention the least; as if someone weary of patrons and conversations, smoke and tankards, cloaks and daggers. As much as escape. She wandered, like him, but there was a difference.

“The blade and the blow.” Vandor sighed smoke from his nose. “Who is to say?” He kept his gaze trained into hers, like a dagger, as much as one hand held his pipe, the other his tankard. “Both.” He offered, as it might dawn on her if she didn’t already know.

“Yours is a contradiction of tongue, in my opinion.” Humble if untroubled as it was. “Staying alive is the purpose of life, isn’t it?” A question worth her answer but he didn’t wait even if she gave one. “They play.” Vandor gestured toward the band at the makeshift stage and its singular musician in particular. “This instrument isn’t much different. Even has a bow.” He grinned as he searched her gaze again. “Just with a violin instead of a blade.”

Sasha'niel
 
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