Birdy Beer Run
Log Info
- Title: Birdy Beer Run
- Emitter: Slixvah
- Place: The TarRaCe
- Summary: Slix flies in from her Aerie to get some beers and spirits for her people, but ends up with Aelwyn helping out the tired witch.
- The TarRaCe, Early Evening
The usual energetic, bubbly and suave bartender has been absent as of late. Recent news that a large number of egalrin has moved in nearby has seemingly sucked every eglarin out of their places of business. Even if it wasn't their family, the Redridge Mountain wasn't that far of a trek/fly.
Though, through the front windows that peer out to the hot, muggy, cloudy day, one can see a rainbow flash of color across the road, the bartender arriving in her true form. Large wings spread wide to slow a fall right to the front door. And Slixvah stumbles in, panting softly and groaning as a hand massages a wing pulled over a shoulder. "Tha' /ain't/ a good coast," she mutters.
She's in a curious bit of attire. Rather, lack thereof. Nothing more than a brown vest and a cyan silk pants, but she has several empty satchels and bags criss-cross on her shoulders. A supply run? Regardless, she looks tired. Even as she steps towards the bar, even through her feet point to the bathhouse.
Clik click. "And one more survivor," The familiar voice states with impeccable cheer. "And how can the TarRaCe serve them tonight?" A tap over Slixvah's ankles. "Perhaps a massage?" A flash of sharp teeth, as Aelwyn slides his tray under his arm and tilts his hips. His shirt was unbuttoned as usual, but he did look pretty bruised. Even with his typical grin.
The orange slit eyes tilt around and Aelwyn looks at the bags attached on Slixvah. "Tch, this one seems to have competition. Change of occupation, Wings?"
Slix, instead of scoffing at Aelwyn's usual antics, gives an honest laugh- one that quickly turns into a twinging pain. "Professionally speakin', yeah. I can use one of those," she agrees, letting her large wings lay half open and lax instead of folding them away. She shakes her head, snorting. "Naw. I'm on a beer run."
A party?
But she can't help but look him over. An habit sort of manner, eyes of a healer. "Beat up some stuff?" she asks, pointing at his chest. Said hand does a familiar looking motion, flipping over as a white shimmer coats her grey hand. She asks, a tinge haggard. "Need a... need a fix?"
Aelwyn tilts his head and crosses his arms across his chest. Not to hide his bruises - but to stare at Slixvah in vain hope of figuring her out. "A beer run. And she did not invite this one?"
The ruddy sith-makar then steps closer and lightly pulls up on the hand, as if trying to test its weight. He clicks up on his teeth and gives her an eyeover. "And how potent is this brew supposed to be, this one wonders?"
Slix makes a clicking sound in her throat. Certainly a new tick. One that she catches and supplies with, "I mean, shoo', if ya wanna come. Tho', it's alllllllllll the way up Mountain Road. My uh... hometown moved in, in simple words."
Familiar, ethereal white tendrils waft off the hand as he takes it, the tendrils wafting in the direction of the bruises, but not close enough to do anything. But the limb is tired. As if its held this pose quite often as of late. "Jus' some brewskies. A spirit here and there. Fuelin' a party, not a rager."
Aelwyn's eyes widen. Then he flashes his teeth. "And Wings' hometown is throwing a party that is not a rager?" He leans over and taps Slixvah on the legs again with his tail; butt swaying with the motion. "Not the Wings this one knew."
The tendrils were momentarily ignored, but then he gestures with his hand. "This one had enough glancing over by clerics and shamans. Some marks are good for reminder, is it not?" The Dragoon rumbles and turns around.
With his tail swaying behind him in that lazy rolling walk of his, he walks over and leans over the bar. "Brewskiers and some spirits." He tells the bartender. And then after a moment, quietly adds, "Whatever those are."
Slix coughs, a laughter coming soon after. "Flutter, if we had th' energy, we prolly would. But they's too tired and sick ta do that ri' now." The tail tapping is met with a wandering feather from those wings animating for a beat and lightly smacking it back. "I am a party gal!" she opines. "Jus'... this gal is a lil' tired!"
She shrugs, shaking her head and pulling away as the witch's hex abates into nothing as he hand drops to her side. "If ya inta tha' sorta thing. I'd be beside m'self if I had a tuft of feathers gone due to a bad healin' job.
The egalrin watches him saunter to the bar, her tired expression leaving her gaze upon him for a moment too long before she breaks out of her daze. "So what's got ya in a good mood? You're swingin' 'round like ya tryin' ta get coin on a stage," she teases, joining him.
Plenty to gaze at, as the dancer-like Dragoon saunters, tail flicking and then...
The bartender tries to hold back something at Aelwyn's request, before they quietly point at Slixvah and then at some of the bottles on display. Meanwhile, Aelwyn turns around, leaning against the bar. "Is this one not always trying to get a coin on stage?" He flicks his tongue out, wringing it out in that serpentine fashion. "Maybe this one is just inspired by seeing a familiar face." Especially after the long treks in bloody messes.
The tray is flipped over the counter and the Dragoon finally moves to address the egalrin, giving her a more direct look. "This one can hear her discomfort. Has she been partying for days, or should this be worried over something other than not getting invited?" He clicks his teeth and tilts his head back. "Hmmh. Or this one could hang her over for her hangover. The cold of the bath by her face, heat suffusing down her legs, flexing when her tired body gives in." A wide toothy grin.
Slixvah can't stifle the giggle that escapes her from Aelwyn's antics with the bartender and her friend. "Don' worr', I got it," she hums to the bartender, reaching into one of her vest pockets and sliding over a stack of gold coins. To Aelwyn, her visage softens. "... honestly, its good ta see ya too," she coos, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder.
She shakes her head. "Naw. I jus'... I got a reputation wit' my hometown. It's tiring. But finally people come 'round, been healin' nonstop."
"... though, tha' list bit sounds prett' good for my sore wings, ya sellin' me on it."
Aelwyn rumbles, pulling up his sleeves. "This one is starting to get worried when she is yet to threaten this one." The draconian leans his hip over and bumps it lightly against Slixvah's. "Call up this one, anytime. If she is not too tired or in pain." His hand reaches out and lightly squeezes that folded over wing. "Drinks are not required, but preferred." Flash of teeth.
The ruddy sith-makar slowly leans away then. "The reputation of a keeper of the party? Because this one can see it." He raises his hands. "Keeping everyone afloat, when the worst starts to come down, and directing attention, where one would flounder and be numbed." That forked tongue flickers again. "This one can appreciate her healing touch would be in high demand."
Finally though, he touches on a tinge of seriousness, a sudden change in mood. "Is her Aerie safe, then?"
"Be worried, I'm merely in a generous mood today," Slix coos cheekily, her swaying slightly from the bump before she leans into return it with one of her own. The wing feels taut and tense. Evident as Slix flinches at first, but sighs thereafter. "... you on bathhouse duty today?" she inquires. "'cause I could totally use all that."
She offloads her bags onto the bartop, handing them over so the tender can get the mix match bags filled. "I wish," she sighs. "I'd love ta think m'Aerie comes ta me fo' party advise and requests for ragers. But naw. You... remember that thing I told ya 'bout a while back? Wit' the luck?" She looks Aelwyn. "They 'void me 'cause I'm their bad luck charm. Thankfully that's bein' less of a problem than it was like seven years ago. But it still is bein' an issue. At least they're lettin' me /actually/ heal them. I had no patients fo' th' first two days of me bein' up there despite... everything."
She regards the serious question by looking away briefly. "They're alive," she half answers before a languid, tired sigh escapes her beak. Her posture and features dragging down in fatigue. "Forty families made the trek. A few souls were lost in th' landslide, some lost on the road. When they showed up- gods, Aelwyn. Clothes were rags. Half of everyone was ill. Almost everyone had some kind of injury, a large number wit' broken wings and limbs." She rubs her face. "I'm jus' glad Alexandria is throwin' a lot of aid at 'em, they need it."
"For Ribbon?" Aelwyn says, forgetting his cover name, and he slides his hand around her. "This one is always on bathhouse duty." His tongue quickly slides out and wriggles in the air in a cheeky manner.
Listening to her words, Aelwyn then falls quiet, bowing his head afterwards. "This one remembers." There's a moment of a pause, but then he adds, "Yet they are here. You are there. One does what one knows best with all that is gone." His hand slides down and then gives a light pat on Slixvah's shoulder. "It is a good day. A day worth drinking few wet ones over."
"And one to have a long, steaming bath with." Another flashy grin from the ruddy sith-makar. "Floating trays of fiery hot drinks to be enjoyed in solemn bliss."
Slix's stature all but folds over at the arm looping around, her returning the arm and shifting it into a side hug. "I appreciate, shug," she murmurs soft. The egalrin nods along, "Yeah. They are here. They's a stubborn bunch, so its gonna take 'em a while ta adjust, but they are here. 'least my family's all still kickin'."
She picks herself up at the pat, honestly looking quite reassured. "... yeah. Tha' sounds like a grand idea. But uh," she looks down at his torso again. "You sure you gonna be good? I kno' ya a good pole swinger- heh- but ya look like ya got tossed 'bout."
Aelwyn leans away, twisting to lean against the counter in his casual, uncaring fashion. The shirt really was a formality. "Tch, clerics and shamans and ribbons - if this one could just get that kind of attention with this tongue." He flicks his forked tongue, splitting up the tips up and down. "This one is fine. One will survive." He reaches up and touches his shoulder, idly.
Meanwhile, he gets off the counter and moves to bump his hip against Slixvah's again, hand touching her lower back. "And this one is _very_ good pole swinger. She should see this one in one of those stages by the ports." He lets out a long rumbling hiss. "All the gold coins."
And the makari slides out of her little hug. Slix exhales, a wing dipping to anchor itself against the ground as she leans back against it. But a snort cuts that off. "You did, and do, get that kind of attention. And most of the time it leaves ya gettin' thwacked," she fires back, that familiar banter returning.
She eyes the spot where he touched. Far too much time in the medical tent trying to read the underwords of what ailments were spent, but she just files it away for later. "Not all injuries are physical," she reminds before he draws close. But the witch doesn't slough him off like usual. "Now /that/. I have no doubt," she laughs. "Maybe I'll take ya up on that. I could use some entertainment. But fo' now-" Her wings ruffle, shortly thereafter seizing up. The egalrin grimaces. "-.. ow. Like, serious tho', I really could use tha' Flutter special. Coastin' against headwind for hours just ta shave off an hour was a /terrible/ idea."
There's a moment of pause in Aelwyn's eyes - but he is quick to cast it away with another of his easy grins. "Tch, this one's heart is a fortress with its gates open, Ribbon. Too many attempt at conquest." He pushes his tongue out - but seeing her struggle, he is quick to return to her side once again, arm wrapping around her.
"Tch, one hour? Perhaps it is her that needs her healing touch." Starting to guide Slixvah away from the bar and towards the bathhouse, his arm squeezes her more tightly. "Shame that a healer is already on the task." He rumbles, before he gestures behind her back at the bartender and then at the bathhouse. All of the wine? All of the wine.
Now that gets a right proper laugh out of Slix. "And that, I think, share hearts in tha' regard," she opines, tired eyes giving a teasing yet kind smile before she's assisted towards salvation.
She throws an arm around his shoulders, giving a soft chuckle. "Th' healer needs a healer...!" she jokes, putting a hand to her forehead as if she was ill. "Shame. I hope tha' healer's been workin' out, 'cause these wing muscles ain't no joke!"
All the wine indeed. The few days have been rough on all.
-End scene-