Private Tales Whiskey Neat

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Shuck

Shuck

Not a Church Grim
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For two days, Joseph and the black dog plodded along behind the unicorn, constantly following and never sure of their destination. The dog had found them a quaint (if abandoned) church to bed down in the first evening, but the second day the unicorn took them well and deep into the forest. Not wanting Joseph to catch his death of cold in the autumn elements, she had made a bed in the forest by digging a divet into the back side of a small slope. With a pile of early fall leaves for cushioning, it wasn't a terrible way to spend the night.

As dusk approached on the third night, however, they arrived at civilization. At least, the dog would have called it civilization; Joseph may have thought differently about the cluster of homes gathered near a tavern. There was a barn with a large paddock beside it, and she could see stocky draft horses milling about in the pasture. Fields of grain appeared to have been recently harvested.

She didn't know what this place was, but the unicorn stopped at the edge of the village, staring ahead toward the tavern. The dog looked between him and the building. It didn't even have a second story, thus must not have had rooms to let for travelers, but the interior was lit by a warm light.

"Is this where we are going?" the dog asked as she turned back to the bay stallion. He threw his head toward the tavern and snorted. The dog nodded. "Then I thank you for your assistance, friend." She wagged her tail as means to bid the unicorn farewell and turned away without another word to it. However, she did speak to Joseph.

"Perhaps you would like to sleep in a real bed tonight?" They didn't have the slightest idea of who they were coming here to find, but the dog was certain that it couldn't be too difficult. With the tavern in her sights and her hopes set on coming one step closer to her name and identity, she began to pad toward the tavern.

// Joseph Meier //
 
"Heinrich is a good friend of mine. Not useless like Oscar. He's....well, it's hard to explain. I'm sure you'll meet him eventually." Joseph shrugged his shoulders, and followed along quietly. He eventually shifted forms to that of a large black shepherd....it was easier than plodding along on two feet. It seemed silly to be following a unicorn instead of riding him, but Joseph knew better. Heinrich was the only one who could ride the Lord of the Mountains, and why was a complete mystery to even him. The two men didn't begrudge each other their secrets. Joseph never asked Heinrich about his strange herd of half-breeds courtesy of the unicorn stallion. Heinrich never asked about Joseph's skill in shapeshifting.

When the unicorn indicated the tavern, Joseph shifted back. This wasn't civilization. It looked more like a large ranch with a public bar. He sighed and reached down to pat Shuck. "Guess that's where we're spending the night...and I'm ready to stab someone for a good hot meal and a warm bed." he muttered, and he meant it. Curling up like a squirrel with a black dog in a pile of leaves hadn't been his idea of fun. Joseph had never liked living like an animal. A few times during that cold night in the forest he'd just shifted to a housecat and curled up against Shuck's belly to get the maximum amount of warmth.

Travelling sucked.

"And no talking. People get weird around Fae." Joseph added just as he pushed open the door to the tavern. He was exhausted. He was filthy. He was starving. All of those needs needed to be met. He walked right up to the bar, pulled up a stool, and looked the bartender right in the eyes. "Whiskey. Neat." he said, and downed the first shot. "I need a room for myself tonight. Food for me and the dog.And a hot bath if you can swing it."
 
His list of needs was short, and she nodded. When he instructed her not to speak to the people inside, she nodded again. "Of course," she replied plainly. She knew that -- after all, she had been haunting a singular place for two centuries, and she knew well that small town folk could be equally small-minded. When she realized she'd spoken, she cleared her throat and offered, instead, a small bark.

Satisfied with the parts they had to play, they entered the tavern. Half of the building was constructed from stone, unlike the homes which were wooden. The interior was lit by a fireplace on one end and several lanterns hung above the bar. Most notable was the wall opposite the hearth was the floor-to-ceiling stack of wooden barrels. They were familiar and it only took her a moment to recognize what they were. She had seen similar barrels being rolled into the tavern in her home village, brought in a cart pulled by big horses not unlike those outside.

There were only two individuals besides the barkeep, younger men sharing in quiet conversation at one of the four tables away from the bar. It was quaint and warm, and the dog could smell something cooking on a pot hanging near the fire. She had no idea what it was, but she immediately licked her chops.

The barkeep was a stout fellow whose dark hairline had receded to the back of his head. It appeared as though all the hair had simply moved to his face, where an impressive bushy mustache covered his entire mouth. His heavy brows hung low over his piercing blue eyes as he glared over his shoulder at the newcomers.

"'Evening, traveler" he greeted Joseph in a light voice clearly twisted in annoyance. "What can I do you for?"

The dog looked away as Joseph began speaking to him and noticed the wary way the other two gentlemen glanced at the barkeep before continuing to talk. Interesting. She, too, inspected the surly man further. He wordlessly turned the tap on a nearby cask and filled a small glass for Joseph.

"There's no rooms here, but the missus and I can put you up in the house yonder." He inclined his head to one of the very few houses, though she wasn't sure she knew how to tell which one from the vague nod. His words were clipped and he still sounded annoyed, even as he continued to be incredibly hospitable.

"There is porridge in the pot over the fire -- help yourself." He produced a bowl and spoon from behind the counter and set it in front of Joseph, then refilled his whiskey. "The missus can fix you up a small bath in the house, and I'll get some table scraps for the dog. Two silver for the room and food, a half-silver for the drink."

With that, he untied his apron and rounded the bar. "Haler, get the man another glass if he wants it," he said to one of the two young men, and walked out of the tavern.

The dog looked from the door to Joseph, her expression one of curiosity. She glanced nervously at the two young men, who were leaning closer and whispering fervently now, before leaning in close to him.

"He seems... nice?" she whisered. Then, for the sake of appearances, she whuffed loud enough for the men to hear and gently put her paw on his leg.

// Joseph Meier //
 
"Another silver and the dog gets porridge." Joseph agreed, putting the agreed-upon amount on the bar. He eyed the man and picked up the bowl and spoon, going to the pot over the fire and filling it up to the brim. He set it on the ground for Shuck and eyed the two young men in the corner. "You lot paid to whisper? I could use another bowl over here. Don't worry about the whiskey." He walked behind the counter, plunked the bottle on the bar, and refilled his glass.

He listened to Shuck. "Seems." he muttered quietly, and downed the whiskey. "Eat your food. We sleep with one eye open, and we bar the door when we get in the place." He wasn't a fool. He'd woken up in the middle of the night with a knife to his throat before. He wasn't playing that game. An armoire in front of the front door usually stymied any would-be thieves. He rubbed a hand over his face and refilled his glass again. "Keep an eye on them. Probably fixing to rob us. We eat, and we get the keys to the place."
 
The dog watched him set down the bowl with a measure of confusion, but he walked away before she could say anything. She waited, unsure if the food was meant for her despite its obvious placement on the floor in front of her. The young man whose name must have been Haler got up and fetched a bowl, setting it down for Joseph when he walked back by. With his task finished, he sat back down and the two men simply watched them.

He instructed her to eat, and only then did she begin to do so as she listened to Joseph. All the while, she kept a sharp eye on the two men. He didn't trust the people here and she could hardly blame them. The barkeep's behavior was... odd. He was accommodating enough, but his manner had been one of annoyance and anger. When the two men turned back to one another, she leaned up to whisper back.

"But the unicorn wanted us to come here. Do you think they are associated with the unseelie?" Her eyes parted from the pair for a moment to look up at Joseph. After the incident with Saturninus, she wasn't sure she trusted anyone, but she had few choices. The unicorn's charity, like Oscar's, was all she would be getting.

The barkeep returned shortly, muttering to himself. Then to Joseph, said, "The missus is warming up water for your bath. I can show you to the house when you're ready, but it will be a while before it's hot and ready." He had come with a bowl of something and a small bread roll, both of which he put on a metal tray. The dog's attention was, by now, fixed on him, and she watched as he bent over behind the bar. There was a loud creak and he lifted a trap door. Her ears pricked forward and she sat up in an attempt to better see what he was doing.

Haler sighed loudly and rose from his seat. He approached the bar and his companion followed. "You're surely not leaving something for it, uncle," he complained as he leaned over the counter. The barkeep had picked up the tray and began down the steps, a lantern in his off hand, but he stopped on the stair when Haler spoke to him.

"Stupid boy," he snapped. "If you want to bitch, you can do it in your own home. But I'll not have you being ungrateful in here." He began muttering under his breath once more and continued down into what must have been a cellar.

It was killing her. The dog whined softly and wagged her tail at Joseph. She couldn't handle this mystery! She nudged his leg with her nose, and glanced between him and the young men. Ask them! she silently urged.

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph slammed another whiskey, but he was paying attention to the innkeeper as he filled his bowl with porridge from the fire and began eating his dinner. "I think the Lord of the Mountains just wanted to get rid of us." he said quietly to her. "He's not charitable. He only looks out for his own skin and the skins of his herd. He dumped us at the nearest convenient location. He only listens to Heinrich." He fell silent as the innkeeper updated him, nodding and thanking the man.

The bowl and bread roll weren't for the two men, which was what he was expecting. Instead the innkeeper lifted a trap door and headed into the basement. It. There had to be something there. He eyed the two men. Whatever it was in the cellar, they didn't like. He had to come at this from the right angle if he wanted to get anywhere. He got up and gently nudged Shuck away from him. She needed to eat her dinner and keep her ears open like a good dog...not be attracting attention.

"So what have you lot got down there? If it's a kennel I need somewhere to store the bitch for the night." he nodded at Shuck, hoping she'd forgive him the terminology. He offered them the whiskey bottle. "Drinks are on me."
 
Haler began a response immediately. "A damn--"

"Nothing!" came the voice of the barkeep below. He was already coming back up. "Sorry, but there is nothing down there but whiskey." He only had the lantern when he shut the trap door and glared at Haler. "I think it's time you pups went home. Your pa will want you up early to drive up to the mill."

He waved a broad hand at the two young men, who looked sour but didn't argue as they said good night and left. The barkeep sighed when the door closed behind them.

"My apologies. The young folk these days don't know when it's best to keep their mouths shut about things." He looked long and hard at the dog, who was diligently licking her bowl, pushing it across the wood floor in her attempt to get it clean. After a moment, he looked back to Joseph.

"I'd offer you a stall for the bitch in the barn, but she looks like she'd jump the door."

// Joseph Meier //
 
"Whiskey that needs bread and stew, apparently." Joseph smirked at the innkeeper. That was a piss poor lie, anyone could see through that. Something was down there that they were feeding. Keeping secrets wasn't their strong suit. Joseph had even handed them the perfect lie on a silver platter; keeping dogs or other animals down there. He fell silent though. If he wanted to find out more about this, poking the innkeeper about it was only going to make him suspicious. "Well, whatever it is you're feeding down there, it's your business. I'm just happy to have a bed to sleep in tonight."

Joseph put another silver on the counter. "For your trouble." he told the innkeeper. Hopefully that would assuage any suspicions. "I'll take the dog. She'll jump any stall and savage any horse you've got in there. Dumb as a brick but a warrior, that one." He got up and patted Shuck, taking the empty bowl from her and setting it on the bar with his own. The meal had been good, though it ached for some cream and honey. Maybe Oscar was rubbing off on him. He could see the poet stirring around the bland meal looking utterly heartbroken at the lack of flavor and sugar.

Joseph took the house. He wanted his hot bath, and he sank into it with a languid groan. He wanted to live in hot water. He washed himself, scrubbing all the dirt from the road off of his body. He indulged himself a little when he thought Shuck wasn't looking. He transformed into an otter, sleek little body diving deep under the bath water and twisting around in all sorts of elegant shapes.

He got out with enough heat left to let Shuck have her turn. He picked her up and set her in the hot water. "So they've got something under the main tavern. Something that's definitely not whiskey." he broached the subject as he lathered her up. "I figure after the old bastard goes to sleep, we can sneak in. You can slither under with your shadows, and I can turn into something small to get in. I hate becoming things like fleas and ants but...they work. It will appear like we were never there." He looked at her, waiting to see what she'd think.
 
The curiosity was going to kill her. She kept glancing up at the innkeeper when he wasn't looking at her and was trying to push the bowl nonchalantly toward the end of the bar. When the secret door had been closed, the scent of liquor and something else had wafted toward her. She thought, if she could get close enough, she might get a better sniff, something that might jog her memory. Ignoring the derogatory conversation, knowing it was a necessary distraction, she was close -- so close!

Joseph picked up her wayward bowl, clean as it was, and the innkeeper closed up the tavern. He escorted them to his home, which was the largest in the town. Still, it consisted of three rooms: the main room, where the family lived and ate, and two separate bedrooms. His plucky wife was carrying a pot of boiling hot water to the small second bedroom, where she had set up a wooden basin. It was considerably smaller than the one she had previously seen, but what little water it held was nice and hot.

Besides, Joseph was small; he easily fit in the tub. With him content in the hot bath, she began sniffing the room. She could hear the innkeeper and his wife in the other rooms. She sat with her nose almost touching the wall, staring intensely at the wood with her ears pricked forward to listen in on what she could. Talk of trade: whiskey and grains. The impertinent nephew of his, how he was going to whip him into shape if his father didn't do it first. His sniveling could ruin their family's good fortune if he didn't learn to keep his mouth shut -- to complain of such things was to drive it away and never return.

She was only pulled away from the task when Joseph finished his bath and brought her over for one of her own. She went into the tub without a fuss and sat politely without splashing him. This time, they were truly guests in another person's home.

"There's definitely something there," she agreed quietly. It wouldn't do for the innkeeper or his wife to hear a woman's voice from the room. "I smelled something strange, but I'm afraid it wasn't a very good sniff." The dog bobbed her head in agreement when he proposed sneaking into the establishment that evening.

"Nothing bars me from breaking in, but I'm bound by hospitality to leave it in the same condition in which I found it." There were few fae exceptions from the laws of hospitality, but she was not one of those spirits. But she gave Joseph a sly look.

"I can't take whatever it is, but I can leave and then you can." If a dog could have had a mischievous grin, she did. Her silvery eyes swirled into a light pink, approaching crimson as they hatched their plan together.

With nothing left to do but wait, she allowed him to bathe and dry her. Then she hopped onto the foot of the small bed to look out the window toward the tavern while they waited for the family to go to sleep. A shaft of moonlight poured in through the window, providing Joseph with sufficient light to see by after the candle was extinguished. She kept her eyes fixed on the tavern, but her ears swivelled around to listen to the sounds of the household.

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph frowned a bit. "So why is it you have to leave everything the same way? I know you have laws but...we're already breaking human law by sneaking in and stealing. Why does it matter if you break fae law? Either way, I'll take whatever it is if it doesn't bite my head off." he said quietly. Thank fuck they didn't need the keys. He settled down into the small bed and sighed, closing his eyes and dozing. "Stop looking at the tavern, you're not going to see anything." he mumbled. He curled up, enjoying the warmth and softness for a few hours before they burned this bridge. A small part of him was furious. Why? Why was it the first warm bed and hot food bit of hospitality they'd gotten in days HAD to have a bloody secret? He waited for dark, dozing in and out of sleep. It felt good to relax on something soft.

Finally he heard the innkeeper and his wife settle into bed. Candles were extinguished, and finally snoring began drifting through the door. Joseph sighed and shifted into a fox. He liked this form. Black and silver with beautiful grey eyes. It always made him feel luxurious, especially with his bushy tail clean and soft after a bath. He stood up and hopped off the bed, nosing the door open. The fox had a lot of advantages; he was as quiet as a cat, could leap astounding heights, and had a sensitive nose and acute eyes. He pranced across the yard in the way only a fox could, bushy tail held up above the ground.

Getting into the tavern was going to be slightly more difficult. He nosed the door but it had been locked. He looked back at Shuck, sighed, and shifted into a roach. He slithered under the door and skittered clear of it, turning back into a human as soon as he had the excuse. He rubbed at his eyes. "Gods damn it I hate insects." he muttered. It was like being drunk, zooming around while he could see 360 degrees around his own head. It was disorienting.

He went to the trap door and went to open it. "After you." he gestured to Shuck.
 
"It's not that I choose to abide by it, I'm bound to it. There are things I cannot do, and to betray them would be to indebt me to the household I have offended. Personally, I find such inconveniences currently undesirable. I'm not barred from entering a building without an invitation, but I must still respect it. What you do after I leave, however, is out of my control." She sniffed indignantly. Aspects of being fae were complicated, and she had never truly tested them to find out how stiff the repercussions were. She didn't intend to find out.

He told her to lie down, and she sighed. He was right -- she couldn't see through walls to know what was down there, so she curled up at his feet. She slept intermittently, her ears perking up and her eyes opening when there was a noise, but otherwise dozed off in deep breaths and twitching feet.

When the time came, she silently stepped down from the bed and watched as Joseph's lanky human form shifted into a small black fox. Interesting. After seeing so many transformations, it was apparent he could take any form he wanted, rather than just the two she was limited to. A useful skill, indeed! As they walked quietly out of the house, it finally dawned on her what Saturninus had said, about Joseph's abilities. Curious and uninhibited though she was by her previous experience asking him questions, she set the thought aside hesitantly; even she knew that anything so intimate was going to be dangerous territory.

They approached the tavern at last, and Joseph became a cockroach. She watched his little legs kicking, pushing him under the small crevice under the door, with rapt fascination. It would be so easy to just... lift her paw and squish him, she realized. The intrusive thought didn't help since she was already struggling with the urge to eat the bug. A strange feeling.

When he was through the door, she dissolved into shadows and had no issue with entering. She darted across the floor in shadow form, and manifested into herself once more by the trap door, beside Joseph. He became himself once more as well, and he began to lift the hatch.

As he did so, a faint light from below illuminated the crack between floor and door. He hadn't lifted it very far before they could hear glass clinking and somebody humming below, and the stairs were well illuminated. The dog tipped her head curiously. Was there somebody down there with a lantern? The humming continued and she stuck her head in the open door to sniff. She immediately jerked back, her ears up and her eyes wide.

"Fae!" she whispered sharply to Joseph, her tail wagging. There was something distinctly fae in the basement, the smell of it now so powerful that it was impossible to miss. Without waiting for Joseph, she put a paw on the step and slipped into the shadows.

The cellar was the same length of the tavern, and it was easy to see now why the tavern was so needlessly large. The walls were lined with stacks of barrels on either side. There were bottles and instruments that she wasn't paying attention to on a shelf because the lantern was positioned at the far end, where someone was still humming a chipper tune. Remaining in the shadows, she moved through the cellar unseen to the figure or to Joseph. She crept along the tops of casks and gently peered out of the darkness to look down at the figure.

A man even shorter than Joseph was leaning into the back of a small stone archway built into the stone walls. He seemed to find what he was looking for among the rows of bottles and pulled it out.

"Ah, that'll do!" he said as he stood upright and inspected the bottle. She could see from above a shocking red beard and hair tied back behind his head, all poking out from beneath a floppy red cap that came to a point over his shoulder. His brown tunic was small enough to have fit a child, and his shoes looked like he'd been wearing them his whole life.

She knew, even before she saw his large pointed ears or his rosy red cheeks, what he was.

The clurichaun continued to hum to himself as he took the bottle to a small table where the bread and bowl left earler were lit by a lantern. A single chair sat at the table, and behind it was a stack of emptied whiskey bottles. The height of a small child, he had to climb up into the seat, but kicked his feet in time to his jolly tune when he was at last sitting. Oblivious to their presence, he began to break the seal on the bottle, his humming turning into a song.

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph couldn't help but wonder if Shuck was being a little...naive. Just because what was down there was fae didn't mean it was friendly. He couldn't grab shadows, and resorted to just sighing and shifting into a less threatening form. While a man might react badly to other men, females were often treated with a little more retiscence. Joseph had tricked many a man with this slender, doe-eyed form. He looked, impossibly, even smaller because of the slighter form, wider hips, and narrower bone structure. Even his swept back, short hair looked endearing on a female. His eyes were large, hazel pools that had disarmed the most professional of guards. He came down the stairs slowly, hand on the wall, eyes wide. He looked exactly the part of a sweet innocent who had happened upon the trapdoor by complete accident.

It helped that his shirt fell ever so gently off of his shoulder, and his pants fitted much tighter around wider hips. He was very skilled at this form in particular, just as he was the dog and the panther. They were his three favorites, and the ones he spent the most time in. Normally he'd have a little rouge on his lips or put a little kohl around his eyes to make them into the showstoppers they were, but...the maiden roused from a sleep wasn't a bad part to play either.

"Excuse me?" he asked gently. Even his voice was lighter. Sweeter. Still a little roughened by years of smoking and drinking; even he couldn't force his body out of that. It just helped him come off a little huskier, sultrier. "I didn't think anyone lived in the cellar. I was wondering where the music came from."
 
She slunk back to Joseph, only to find a woman descending the stair in his clothes. It startled her, and it took her a full moment to recognize him. Tricky cuss! She watched in mounting curiosity as he stepped into the cellar, looking very much like a doe-eyed human woman. He truly was a master at his craft, she thought, and kept to the darkness to watch carefully.

The clurichaun had opened his bottle by then, and at the sound of Joseph's voice, his hand jerked the bottle away from his lips. In a flash, he jumped up and stood in the seat. Then the faerie was replaced by one of similar appearance, though the size of a normal man. To the dog, the shape shimmered slightly, like the soapy bubbles of the bath. A glamour. Joseph, who was just then coming around the turn of the stair, would have seen a lanky fellow with a red beard sitting in the chair at the far end of the cellar without the Sight.

"Oi, lass," he said in a jovial, but concerned, tone as the false image stood. "What are you doin' here at this hour?"

The dog rolled her eyes from the shadows. Of course the pretty lady guise would work. Joseph continued and the clurichaun laughed dismissively.

"Nobody lives here, just doin' my day's work. A bit of a night owl, I am -- like the peace and quiet." He raised the bottle in his hand, but propped a fist on his hip. "You've no business being here, lass. The boss-man won't be too happy if he thinks I'm courtin' instead of workin'."

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph smiled and toyed with his hair, coming down off the stairs and smiling at the man. "Well it's late in the night and I don't think anyone's up at this hour." he said. "I couldn't sleep either. It's a strange place and I'm not from here. It's always hard to get to bed." He leaned against the churlchaun's workbench, his shirt collar now entirely kinked to show off one alabaster shoulder. "What are you working on? I promise I won't bother you. I just like a little...company this late at night." He gave a coquettish little smile and leaned over to look at the man's work.

He smiled flirtatiously. Oh, he'd done this a dozen times. Men got thrown off guard by a little pixie like himself. Blood started flowing downstairs and soon they were blabbering all of their secrets to him. "Why down here, anyway? It's awfully dark."
 
The dog crept into Joseph's shadow, clinging to his back and keeping out of sight as he walked further into the cellar. She thought she was going to gag as Joseph laid it on thick, her shadowy form shuddering. She wondered, for a moment, if he'd noticed that the red-haired man wasn't a man at all. It was hard to tell, so she waited. The clurichaun hadn't realized this wasn't a woman, after all. At Joseph's sultry approach and the specific inflection on company, he raked his female figure in a lurid sweep of his eyes.

"Company, eh?" he said with a smile curling the corners of his mouth. Whatever guard he'd been attempting to put up at this woman's first appearance vanished. His posture relaxed and he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"I suppose some pleasant company won't harm anything," His toothy smile was just a bit too bright, too sharp.

"Aye, but it's where the whiskey is, lass. The cool and dark are what make the conditions perfect -- it ages the whiskey so nicely. That and my good company."

He sat back down and took a drink from the bottle before waggling it at Joseph. "I'm afraid this bottle isn't the best to be found here. A drawback of the profession, I reckon."

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph had trusted Shuck. This was a fae. It had to be. But to his eyes all he could see was a man sitting under the tavern making the tavern's whiskey. He took the bottle from the fae and took a sip of it. Despite his appearance he didn't give so much as a wince from the strong taste, handing the bottle back. "If this is your bad stuff, I can't wait to see your skills at their best." Joseph purred.

"So what is a fae doing working for humans, making whiskey in a basement?" Joseph said with a feminine giggle. "Come on sweetheart, you don't think that silly glamour actually fooled me." He leaned in and patted the man's arm, kissing his cheek. "I don't judge. There's no reason to hide from me. But I am worried that you're here under your own volition. Can't be fair, making whiskey for one tavern in the middle of nowhere."
 
Joseph Meier said:
"If this is your bad stuff, I can't wait to see your skills at their best." Joseph purred.
Click to expand...

The clurichaun let out a secretive chuckle. "My best work is yet in these barrels here," he said with a wave of his hand and a spark in his eye. He took the bottle back from Joseph and lifted it to his lips, but his smile vanished the moment he called him fae. What had once been glittering brown eyes seemed more crimson in color suddenly.

"Is that so?" he said carefully, continuing to take a long, deep drink from the whiskey. "And how did a pretty lass like yourself come by the Sight?" His voice was cautious and his eyes watched Joseph carefully.

When it was implied that he was being kept there against his will, however, the clurichaun laughed heartily. "You think that innkeeper could keep me here?" He chuckled viciously and tipped back the bottle once more. He'd drank half of it now on his own.

"There hasn't been a lock made by man that could ever keep me in. No, I'm here because I want to be. The fool who owns this place leaves me food, and I have all the drink I like. All I have to do is a bit of merrymaking on my own time and the whiskey rejoices with me."

With that, his eyes swept back over Joseph's false form. "If you've a mind for... merrymaking, the innkeeper won't be interrupting my business. Tell me, lass -- what is your name?"

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph laughed. "Don't worry about it. I'm not going to hurt you. Actually, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't hurt me." he said. So nothing untoward was happening here. The fae was gainfully employed by the tavern. It was an odd arrangement but nothing that required so much secrecy. Joseph smiled at him and reached out to playfully toy with the other man's beard. "Marrymaking sounds exactly like what we should be doing. Any ideas?" he grinned, and glanced at Shuck.

It was alright to come out now. He'd finished his little game. "You know I do have a friend here. She's a little shy but she does have a taste for whiskey and good company." he tittered, nodding to Shuck. "She's got a problem I think you might be able to help us with. I'll make it worth your while... if you've got a serviceable cot anywhere."

Joseph had no intention of fucking him. If he was drunker, and alone, maybe. But they had more important things to focus on and he needed the fae sober. He took the bottle from him and tipped down another drink, but didn't immediately hand it back.
 
Joseph didn't answer the question, diverting in what she assumed was an attempt to disarm the clurichaun's worries. The dog kept to the shadows against his back, not daring to look around for fear the other fae would see her.

The clurichaun was still watching cautiously, clearly warring with discretion and a rising suspicion. When Joseph indicated that he wasn't alone, however, the clurichaun's playful smile faltered and he looked beyond the woman and failed to see anything.

"A friend, eh?"

Joseph was tipping up the bottle for a drink of the whiskey when the fae's nostrils flared. In a moment, his demeanor changed. The clurichaun jerked up out of his chair, sending the seat clattering back. His eyes were indeed crimson as they scoured the darkness behind Joseph and he bared his teeth -- a row of pristine white teeth that seemed slightly pointed.

"You bloody devil!" he hissed, the shape of the glamour shivering as his ire rose. A layer of frost began to form on the floor beneath his shoes. "I can smell hell on you, dog! Show yourself!"

With her cover blown, the dog slid down Joseph's leg and onto the floor, where she gathered herself back into physical form. She was still a tendril of smoke when the clurichaun hissed, backing away.

"You stay away from me," he warned as the dog stepped out from behind Joseph. She watched him with interest.

"You know what I am?" she asked, her voice slightly ominous. He ignored her, glaring at Joseph.

"You witch! If you've made a deal with that bitch to help her you'll regret it. She's bound to hell, and she'll wring you dry before she keeps that promise."

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph really couldn't have predicted that response. He blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in mood in the room, and put up his hands. "Now, let's everyone calm down. I didn't make a deal to help her. I'm helping her because she's lost her name and she might not really be a dog after all. Just....calm down. She hasn't wrung anything out of me." Joseph said calmly. "We need your help, and you're going to give it to us. I tried to be nice to you but if you're going to be a rotten shit about it, I'm going to have to get mean."

He approached the man and shifted back, glaring at him. "And believe me if I can make you hot and heavy for someone who doesn't exist, I can tear your head off with a bear that does." he growled. "We need to find the Unseelie fae. They're the only ones who know her name. We're not going to hurt you if you tell us." He pointed a finger in the clurlchaun's face. "And quit screaming. I've already got the last dregs of a hangover going away, last thing I need is for something smaller than I am to start squeaking."
 
Joseph approached, threatening the clurichan smoothly and plainly. It looked at him, then the dog. After a moment, his angry face began to split into a wicked smile. He began to laugh, louder and louder, and his glamour faded. Joseph finally saw the small faerie for what he was: similar to a leprechaun, his childlike figure seemed non-threatening, but his teeth came to points and his eyes burned with an angry inner fire. There was ice at his feet now.

"A black suck with no name?!" he bellowed. "What a joke. Who did you cross for them to take your name, dog?" His mockery was paired with a vicious smile.

But the dog didn't notice. She felt the weight of his words like a cart had been dropped on her, that strange shift in gravity as if her whole body was heavier. A black shuck. She wasn't a grim, or even a puca. She was a black shuck. The revelation made her mind real and she stood silently in shock as the faerie continued.

"You're a fucking idiot if you think I'll be helping without payment." He spat on the floor, glaring daggers at her. "Especially not one such as her."

She didn't let Joseph argue against that. "We can come to an agreement," she said calmly, stepping forward to stand between them. "What do you want?"

The clurichaun thought something was awfully funny, and took several moments to gather his composure. When he at last was capable of speaking, he was smiling wickedly. "I want your deaths. I want to know when and where and how you will die."

She glanced nervously up at Joseph. It was a strange request and one that made her uneasy. Giving away a portion of the life she had to live had seemed easy, but there was something about giving the information of her death specifically to this fae that made her hesitate.

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph had dealt with a lot of men like this. Men who turned their backs on any sort of reason and just spat vitriol. He was one of them, really. He also knew how to get rid of that sort of attitude, and it tended to involve knocking the sense back into a man. Besides, the way the little shit was speaking about his companion was getting on his nerves, and the request to know their deaths was the final straw. He'd given the creature a chance to be nice. He'd given him a chance to help them. Now he was going to follow through on his threat.

He shifted. This time, into a snake. A huge snake. A snake whose coils burgeoned out of him like intestines and swelled up to the diameter of a horse. He grew twenty, thirty, forty feet long until he could no longer fit properly into the room. He wrapped his tail around the stairs and squeezed, splintering the wood and removing the only means of escape. He lifted a section of his coils, and slammed them down on one of the whiskey barrels. Alcohol spilled all over the floor. Joseph looked at the clurlchaun, lifting his gigantic head. He opened his mouth and hissed, lifting his coils threateningly over another barrel.

His tail shot forward and grabbed the little creature by the ankle, picking him up and shaking him violently. The grip wasn't gentle either...the fae could probably hear his own bones creaking.
 
The dog saw the change starting in him. He clearly wasn't going to negotiate away any more of his life. His body expanded, growing into a serpent that filled the cellar. Casks broke under his sprawling weight and his tail whipped around to grab the clurichaun by the ankle. The fae looked startled in the second before his feet were yanked out from under him, but cackled over the sound of his breaking bones.

"Kill me if you want, shapeshifter! Keep your death, but you'll ensure hers!" The coils gripped him tighter, wrapping around his body, and the blood rushed to the clurichaun's face. "How long do you think a fae like her can live without her name? How old are you, dog? Two centuries? Three? Do you even know?"

She felt her body go cold. "You're bluffing!" she barked. Fae coulddn't lie, but they could twist the truth.

The clurichaun laughed again. "You're marked for death, dog. Without your name... they'll come for you... and you won't have the power to stop them."

A direct statement. A shiver ran through her. "Who? Who will come for me?"

"Marked... for death..."

"I'll give you my death," she said suddenly. "Take it, and tell me how to find the Unseelie Court." She turned to Joseph. "Put him down. You don't have to give him yours, but he's not lying." She was clearly shaken, her fair eyes desperate as she looked up at him.

// Joseph Meier //
 
Joseph squeezed. He was angry, losing his temper and his eyes were locked on the clurlchaun that seemed to absolutely refuse to be terrified. He hissed loudly, looking at the miserable little creature. Without her name someone would come for her and try to kill her. Well, let them try. He was about to split the laughing little twat in two when Shuck called him to stop. He sighed heavily and released his coils, his tail going to wrap around the clurlchaun's leg again.

He might have released him, but he wasn't going to let him get away. Any false moves and he'd twist his leg off and swallow the rest whole. He waited, patiently, for Shuck to give up her death. He didn't want her to do it. Something in the back of his head told him that giving up one's death was a bad thing to do. Then again...he'd wanted to die for years. He knew how he'd die. He slammed the clurlchaun to the ground on his back (unable to resist knocking the wind out of him), and shifted back. "Wait." he growled. "You can have mine. By my own hand, on the graves of my wife and children. At the most, a decade from now. When I've decided to stop rotting from the inside out."

He took a deep breath. "You know I'm speaking the truth, fae." he said darkly. "Take my death, and tell us who has taken her name and where they are."
 
Joseph put him down (more or less) and she opened her mouth to finalize her agreement when Joseph spoke. Something queer in her twisted when she heard him. Death by his own hand? A wife and children? She had never experienced what mortals called love, but she had seen hundreds accompanying the deceased to their graves, and their grief was always a powerful tool for foul spirits who would haunt them, hovering over them and feeding on that sorrow. To know that Joseph had known such grief made something shift in her perception of him.

"Ah, but fate is a fickle mistress, my friend." The clurichaun smiled as he pushed himself upright, and hand on his ribs. He shook his head. "I can't tell you who has taken it from her, only where to find them -- for both of your deaths," he negotiated. He raised his hand. "Shake on it, and we'll see just how you go, shapeshifter."

"And you'll show us how to get there," she interjected with an amendment.

"Aye. I'll show you how to get there." His smile was hungry, eager, and his eyes bore down on the dog -- the shuck.

It was enough for her. She looked at Joseph, to see if this agreement suited him. She was already willing to give hers for this information, and if he truly thought that was the way he'd die, then he would surely have no further reservations.

// Joseph Meier //
 
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