Open Chronicles Let’s Get Drunk

[Rämna Sisters]

Once again Faith had failed to sleep before sunset. So once again, Melody had been freed from her mental prison and assumed control of the body that she and her sister had shared for her entire life.

It wouldn’t be so bad if Faith didn’t try so hard to keep her sister asleep. All Melody wanted was to be allowed to live. To exist. To experience. That wasn’t so much, was it? Yes, Faith had become a bit more lenient recently, and yes, she had started trying to adopt a more egalitarian schedule, but Melody still couldn’t feel like she was being hidden.

She thought on this as she drank her third frothy mug of ale, leaning heavily on the bar. Why her devout, cleric sister disapproved of her so much was simply beyond her. A fight here and there, and theft every once in a blue moon, but really, she had been helping Faith with all that. Usually.

”Enough!” she said suddenly to herself, drawing the attention of the barkeep to whom she said ”Bring another one o’ these,” waving the half-full mug aloft.

“Ma’am, you haven’t finished the one you’ve got.”

”I will by the time your lazy ass fills another mug!” she retorted, taking a healthy gulp.

Setting the mug down, she turned to the person beside her with a bit more swaying than she intended. ”Rude guy, eh?”

 

[Vincent]

Was there anything greater than 20cm of sausage grilled to juicy perfection? Only that 20cm of sausage with mustard and potatoes. Vincent inwardly groaned as he stuffed his mouth full of sausage and potato, his cheeks puffing out as he wolfed his meal down. Barely giving himself time to breathe, he bit off more sausage- shoveled more potatoes into his mouth.

A slight bump or jostle was standard for a tavern. The woman next to him did not slightly bump or jostle him. Vincent hadn't expected it and dropped his fork onto his lap. He slowly turned his head to the woman next to him, incredulity painted across his face. His chewing halted for the briefest of moments before he swallowed a portion of his food.

"So rude," he swallowed what remained in his mouth. With a raised brow, static gaze swept over the empty flagons in front of her before rising to meet her gaze. "Thirsty, are ya'?"

 

[Amalia Rosethorn]

Yes, let's.

Amalia led herself into this bar full of drunken louts without a hint of good in her eyes. Where she went, trouble always followed. Whatever Hell there may be there was an unlikelihood that a place colder than the depths of her eyes existed within it. Those very eyes panned across the bar looking for that delicious slice of danger that made the hair on her neck caress every nerve they needed to. Hair of the dog didn't hurt these situations either.

They ended up landing on the affronting woman at the bar who was barking at the tender and the man beside her quietly agreeing to her aggressive spouts.

Amalia leaned her elbow on the bar with her fingers tapping against her cheek and her icy eyes peering through her mask at Faith and Vincent.

"Wine. Red. Don't make it cheap. Seems like you have enough cheap eating away at your oxygen."

 

[Rämna Sisters]

”Oh... yeah well, one of those days, ya know?” she lied. It hadn’t been “a day” at all, she’d only been awake for a couple of hours, long enough to climb from whatever bed Faith had failed to fall asleep in and look for the nearest source of entertainment. ”Tellin’ me what I can and can’t drink...” she muttered in regards to the barkeep, but her eye caught the fork in Vincent’s lap and after a second the connection was made that perhaps this had been her fault. ”I... uh, sorry.”

Her sister was rapidly being proven right, and in an effort to defy this she hastily remembered some of her manners. ”I’m Melody. Lemme get you a drink to make up for your... pants.“

Amalia was not at all the sort of person Melody would expect in this kind of establishment. She probably wouldn’t have expected her in any establishment, to be fair, what with the mask and... no actually it was just the mask. The voice brought Melody’s attention to the cold eyes behind said mask, and she peered back at them with emerald interest. ”If she thinks the drinks are cheap why is she here?” she said under her breath to her newest acquaintance, the meaning of Amalia’s statement lost on her partially clouded mind.

 

[Vincent]

One of those days. How vague. How relatable. Vincent nodded along, really only listening halfheartedly. He picked up the fork and used it to prod at the half-eaten sausage on his plate.

”Vincent. No harm done. Pants ‘re dirty anyways,” he raised a brow at Melody , ”I will take that drink though.” He subtly gestured to the barkeep.

He helped himself to another mouthful of sausage and potatoes and washed it down with ale, which had been promptly served to him.

”Can’t say,” nor did he particularly care. He shrugged, ”more for us.”

 

[Amalia Rosethorn]

The barkeep seemed to be on the side of Melody and Vincent with a brow raised in Amalia's direction as he pulled up a shoddy, dirty bottle of wine. He poured it sloppily and made sure it ran along the sides of the goblet before sliding haphazardly her direction. Amalia took half a step back with a sneer stained across her face as she reached into her cloak and pulled out a handkerchief to wrap around the messy goblet of wine. Her other hand flicked a hefty coin straight into the barkeeps chest.

She wandered past the two who have caught her looming eyes and sat at a lone table not far from them. The cryomancer cleaned off her glass and removed the handkerchief, tapping a finger to it and cooling its temperature to borderline frozen.

She took her first sip and immediately scowled. "Foul." She kept begrudgingly sipping. Hoping and praying for a bit more excitement. After all, it was to her knowledge that establishments such as this had far more trouble than any of the fancy places she frequented.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody nodded, satisfied with Vincent's answer. She pulled a few more coins from her pouch, probably earned by fixing a few bruises here and there, and set them on the bar for the keeper to snatch up as he dropped Melody's fourth ale on the counter. Having already downed the previous drink, she greedily gulped at the second.

She set it down hard and wiped her lips in a most unladylike fashion, looking back and leaning in once more at an impolite closeness. "I bet sshe's on the run," she whispered quite audibly. "Thasswhy she got to come to places like this." She smirked, thoroughly enjoying making up a completely falsified backstory for the snobby woman in the mask, at whom she continued to stare rudely.

Amalia's wishes may be granted soon enough. The tavern was filled with unsavory folk, and if Melody didn't start trouble soon enough, someone else surely would.

 

[Vincent]

"Oh, absolutely," Vincent nodded along. Because, after all, somebody on the run would wear such an inconspicuous outfit. In a packed bar. He gazed over the rip of his mug at Melody. Well, who was he to ruin a young woman's fun? "D'you think bounty hunters are after her?"

The mug hit the bartop with a heavy thud as he slammed it down.

"She looks like she can do magic. Lookit her mask. Screams mage. Maybe she has mage hunters after her?"

Another mouthful of sausage stifled a chuckle, and he suggestively raised his brow at Melody, who seemed to be encroaching on fully inebriated territory. Why not stir the pot then, he thought.

 

[Amalia Rosethorn]

Their conversation pierced through her ears as a sign that they wanted more trouble. Good enough. They would have it. Now, it wouldn't be very ladylike of her to just start cutting heads off like she'd just adore to. So instead the petty rambling would be met with more pettiness.

She took another swig of her wine before standing up and tossing her hair lightly. She moseyed cockily over to the two having their lovely chat about what she could be doing here and stood between them both leaning down with a smile.

"Actually, if you must know..." She put a finger on both Melody and Vincent's glasses, freezing what alcohol remained completely solid.

"I'm just here for a little entertainment." She said with a wink in Vincent's direction. Almost an applause for calling her on her magic.

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody had not been aware of how loudly she was speaking. She'd thought the woman couldn't hear her, but when she got up and walked towards them she turned a little bit pinker. "Ahhh shit, do you think she heard us?" The fun she was having with Vincent didn't need to diminish too much, but she was at least decent enough to feel somewhat embarrassed about being caught.

Her eyes got a bit wider as she watched the ale freeze. Speechless, she turned the cup upside down. A solid block of amber ice slid out and smashed onto the floor. She blinked, and her amazement turned into disappointment. "Aww what... what'd you do that fer?" she pouted. "Wewere jus havin some fun. Why'd you come here for enter.... en-ter-tain-ment, if you don't like the drink?" It was becoming much more difficult to speak than she'd expected. She'd only had... four beers? Five? Maybe she had been asleep for much longer than she thought... it's not like Faith kept up their alcohol tolerance on her own.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent stared at the solid, glossy brick in his cup with a sour grimace. “Reckon she did.” He dropped the flagon on the counter next to his plate with a quiet snort.

Vincent turned in his stool, slowly looking from wall-to-wall in the tavern. With a raised brow, his gaze finally settled on the ice mage. At least he thought she was an ice mage. Not a lot of them around, anyways. Lots of pyromancers. Too many, actually.

”Right. Entertainment. You realize where you’re at, yeah?” His grimace soured further, ”D’you see him over there,” he pointed to a fat man across the room, ”He drank so much, he fucking passed out in his stew. He’s going to fucking drown. In his fucking stew. This is it!” he turned to Melody, waving his hands in feigned excitement, ”This is entertainment!”

 

[Amalia Rosethorn]

She'd vastly hoped for a bigger reaction for the two which only left her wanting. The woman was far too drunk to come at her with more than a slurred excuse for a complaint. As for the man beside her, there was more it seemed, but she was struggling to find a way to drive him to a point of engaging with her.

She certainly had a knack for picking on the rough and the handsome. She didn't really know why. Perhaps she was looking to fill some void but with her own mental debilitation she couldn't process those thoughts correctly.

"You question my choices for a joyous occasion?" She sighed, looking upwards to the ceiling. "In truth the upscale becomes so horribly drab. The banquets, the galas, the places I'm often invited too by a man as fat as that with far more coin lining his pockets. Slow, quiet music with hardly a sense of the rigorous exterior I know this world to have. It's boring. I figured the two of you might have more to offer than that."

 

[Rämna Sisters]

Melody's head lifted up at the word "boring."

"Yeah! Everythingsso boring! My ssister doesn't let me do anything fun, so I snuck out." She looked at the fat man in his stew, looked at the rest of the patrons in the bar (as best she could, some were a little blurry). "Sometimes these places have fights. Secret fights. In the basement... for money!" She had started the sentence in a whisper, but it ended quite loudly, and a couple of people from a nearby table gave her a sour look.

She blew at a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "But you need more wine for that sorta fun. You both do." She looked at Vincent and winked with both eyes.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent watched the ice mage speak with a raised brow and skeptical frown. Despite his outward disapproval, there was inward agreement with what she had to say, at least to a certain extent. Most luxurious galas and balls were indeed boring. Any excitement to be had would be behind closed doors.

”D’you like fights, Melody?” Vincent’s face lit up with mirth from the drunken young lady’s... blink. He turned his attention to the ice mage. ”Are fights entertaining enough for you, Miss...”