Boxy Rain Dance

Log Info

• Title: Boxy Rain Dance
• Emitter: Slixvah
• Characters: Slixvah, Aelwyn
• Place: Colosseum District
• Time: September 23rd, 2022
• Summary: Slix catches Aelwyn practicing at the Colosseum on a drizzly day. She tries to return some property to him, but he doesn't want it, the chained box apparently a mystery for all those that come across it. Well, two times thus far, but its becoming less of a coincidence. She stays for the show.

Colosseum District, Midday

The rain from the past day was still around, the cold front from the coming fall making sure all knew of its eventual arrival. Though, it's not as heavy and raw, instead just a gentle falling this time around.

Sadly, rain means no flying. Which means Slixvah is walking. One of her robes is thrown over her wings, her not wanting to sully the ribbons and feathers. Though, she does have an arm on her hip with a couple of robes obscuring something. Carrying a light load.

Thankfully for egalrin, such weather doesn't particularly mar their capability to see, they're used to such things up on the mountains, which is why she is scanning around for "-that annoying hot lizard, where are you..." she muses quietly as she plods along in the rain.

Aelwyn was not particularly hard to spot in the rain. After all, he was standing in the middle of a circular fire, made out of pots of clay with lit oil. Practising his glaive, he continues flicking those pots up and above his head - and flickering embers keep flowing down and licking his ruddy, rain slicked scales.

It was all a ploy to keep warm, of course. Nothing to do with heat.

There was no fancy footwork this time around. Just swing, twirl, place the pot back down onto the sand. Occasional streaks of burning oil slicks down his quill of manes, but he barely pays any attention to it. Nearby a small metal box was steaming with it's hot contents. Freshly baked bread, annoyingly delicious smelling with herb butter! Just lying there in the box!

Slix slowly approaches, her making sure her footfalls were loud with talons clacking against the stonework to announce her presence. She sniffs the air a bit. "You know," she starts off, slowing to a healthy not-in-glaive-slicing-distance range, "Scuttlebutt said tha' the Fern had a cruddy bread shipment. You uh..."

She gestures to the steaming metal box. "... know anything about that?" Slix asks, still watching the man practice, head tilted slightly to the side at the simplicity of it.

"This one does not." Aelwyn calls out, not missing a beat. Smooth slice upwards, snag a pot, then bring it back down. Then do the same with the end of the glaive; try not to burn hands with the oil that spills over the shaft. Bring pot back down. Spin a touch - rinse and repeat.

"It must be the rain and moisture. Skies are not gentle on bread today." The glaive thuds against the pot and he gets into a rhythm of clicking the pots in time to an imaginary music. He stops spinning though, turning around and standing completely upright, the spear held behind his back.

Click clack. "Ribbon. Not often this one sees her here." A toothy grin follows. "Looking for a bit of heat in the rain?"

Slix gives shifts her weight to the other leg, sky blues trailing through the air, following the pots being picked up and snagged about. "Yeah, moisture being stuck in a box of hot, steaming, bread tends to ruin it after too long," she points out, looking sorrowful at the box before shaking her head.

Her attention flicks back to him as he's ceased his demonstration. A blink, and she quietly laughs. "If I want heat, I'll just smother m'self on one of the flamin' pots here. Though, was lookin' fo' you tho'."

She reaches into her robe, rummaging around. "Was on a job. Kinda complicated, found... this." The egalrin pulls out a... folded red loincloth, and holds it out. "... I found this on a box. Box wrapped in weird chains."

"... yes, that box. I think these are yours, mister."

Aelwyn does not seem to be too concerned about the fate of the bread. It will survive. It always has. When it has, anyway. Delicious smell of bread, though.

"Hmmh, this one thinks he'd be gentler on her feathers than a flaming pot of oil." He rumbles, but stops knocking the pots about. Scales still steaming a touch, he steps closer with a curious tilt of his head.

It takes him for a moment to catch her up on what he was saying - then his orange pupils widen. "... she has been rummaging in this one's belongings?" He says, with an accusotary glance thrown at the egalrin.

Slix snorts. "I depends on your definition of gentle," she jokes before an accusation is thrown forth.

She raises a feathered brow. "Shug, if I wanted ya loincloth I'd just ask for it and I'm fairly sure you'd hand it over," she mentions flatly, but still somewhat snickering in the back of her throat. "What, do you stay in the warehouse district or somethin'? In a buildin' that faces a street with a door to the back that spills into an alleyway?"

Aelwyn steps closer towards Slixvah, and then stops right in front of her beak range. There was no reaction from him as he teeters in close - until he lets out a quiet tch, "She stole this one's joke." Then his hand moves to gesture at the silken piece. "And loincloth. What else is left there?" Teeth are exposed.

At her suggestion though, he leans back on his feet and leans against his glaive, letting it nuzzle in the crook of his arm and shoulder. "Hmmmh." He lets out in an expressively thoughtful manner, then lets out a slow breath. "No, this one used to keep his belongings there." He nudges his head to the side. "Left the box." He twists his lips in thought, then nocks his head back, staring right back at Slixvah. "... why was she stealing this one's belongings?"

Slix doesn't budge, her used to these kinds of antics from the man at this point. She chuffs. "You still have your dignity, at least," she chuckles, shoving the red cloth into his arms. "Take this back, I can't wear it. Too small on me."

A sigh leaves her, and she shifts her other arm a bit. Still holding onto... something. Chains clink under her robe. The bird looks one way, then another before speaking quieter, the rain muffling her rumbles and ragged tongue, "I got hired to steal it. Hired by some makari. I thought it was you at first again, but I guess not? Someone wants it back." <Draconic>

Aelwyn takes the loincloth and quietly spreads it out between his fingers, listening to the egalrin. It doesn't look like he is paying much attention to her - but then he flips his hands up in the air and folds the loincloth by the back of the bird's head. Holding her closer as if it were a hood or shawl of sorts, the draconian leans in closer.

"This one thought so. That is why it was left in the warehouse." He rumbles with quiet throaty sounds and chortles purring from the deep in his chest. "Very few are willing to pay and then leave without even trying to take the goods." <Draconic>

Slixvah makes a sort of surprised tweet as she's essentially pulled in and down (she is taller than him) by the cloth. She blinks, face feathers floofing up a bit as the proximity. That still doesn't stop her from trying to piece together this information, despite having been wrangled around. "... another makari. Sounds like someone is trying to pawn the thing off on a scale-kin. Framing someone, maybe?" she muses. "Who hired you for the heist the first time?Slixvah" <Draconic>

"One day she should teach this one how to let those cute sounds out." Aelwyn rumbles back up at her. "Or perhaps how to make her sing more." His tail whips by about him and gives her feet a light tap. His orange slit pupils tighten in the dark though, watching her ruminate. "There would be easier ways, would there not?" Tilts his head back. "... like Silver. He is a hero now, is he not?" He takes in a deep breath and casts a glance to the side. "This one heard of a job by the Ox. Someone in the robe. Find the box and retrieve it without being seen." Eyes return back to her. "Then this one thought of her."

Slixvah ends up snickering, her reaching up with her free hand to brush it against the side of Aelwyn's face. "Sugar, if you tempered yourself a bit, you could learn how to do all that and more."

One of her feathers on her wings under the robe animate and lightly thwack at the tail.

She tilts her head to the side. "Silver? I'm unaware of this person. Besides, wouldn't be harder to pin something on a capital H Hero?"

She listens, nods, and looks to the side briefly, filing that away for later. "... I still have the box." Jangle under the robe.

Aelwyn leans his head away, clicking his teeth in curiosity. "What does she mean?"

The tail simply chases on after the feather. Seems to have the equal temperament of its owner.

"Hmmh, if they want to pin it on the sith-makar, would it not be easier to pin it on someone everyone recognizes?" At the mention of the box, though, he suddenly looks down. Then back at her. "... this one does not think we should have the box. It feels like a part of a game." A low growl leaves his lips. "A game with no coin and only lives."

Slixvah answers easily, hand falling away to assist with the load under her robe. "I mean, if you give me a reason to stop harboring a spray bottle behind the counter at work to deal with your rowdy tail. I ain't as /forward/ as you. Tone it down a touch, is what I'm sayin'."

The feather is content to continue trying to bap at the tail chasing around.

"That makes no sense. Recognition begets reputation, and reputation, if pristine, tends ta be a shield against bad stuff," she counters before sighing quietly. "... can try ta figure out how ta get rid of it. Still dunno what's in it or whatever. Can try and study it if ya want."

"Hmmh. No, it doesn't make any sense. Even if they wished to frame a sith-makar or the sith-makari." Aelwyn reinforces his point, flicking his tail tip as it lurched forward. He lets go of the red loincloth, leaving it hanging where it may by Slixvah's head. "This one didn't pry. He learned some needs -" He gestures at the box. "One does not know anything about, tend to be very unhealthy." He takes in a deep breath, stepping back to look up at her.

"Hmmh. It is her box now. Though this one would advice her to let it disappear on its own again." Another tilt of his head and he crosses his arms. "Temper, hmm?" He clicks his teeth and grits them together in barely held amused growl. It was obvious he was biting back a comment or two. "If it suits her."

The glaive is hoisted off the ground and he spreads it across his shoulder, giving his body a stretch. "What will she do now?"

Slivah snorts. "I guess that's where you and me differ, I pry all the time," she hums, swaying a bit from side to side, the loincloth going with her motions. "But... yeah, perhaps I can get rid of it. I can fly up high into the mountains and chuck it away. Or... turn it in to the Society? They can keep a lock on it since its magically sealed...." she muses, rubbing her beak.

"Yes, temper, I know that's hard for you," she chuckles, reaching out to playfully thud a hand against his chest.

The question makes her think, her looking down slightly and off to the side. Her beak grinds in thought. "... I thinks I'm gonna meditate on what ta do. Talk with Fiadh. Figure out what the best course of action is. If this... box is bad news, rather it be in good hands than any others."

"Tch, fire can temper the hardest steel, Ribbon." Aelwyn responds with a chuckle, getting back on his tip toes - and making one final quick sneaky attempt at her feet. "Just need to warm up first."

The Dragoon tilts his head at her considerations, then nods his head. "This one suspects they will not stop trying to get at the box. Do they want the box back? Why do they want to steal it, but never take it?" The ruddy sith-makar asks. "Perhaps if it is given to the society, someone else will simply steal it, and the cycle begins anew."

Sneeky tail hits its mark, Slix making an 'ack' sound as she flinches from the thwack. This time she just shifts a bit and bats his shin with a kick. It doesn't hurt. She's a twig. "Yes. Warm up first. Not an inferno right off the start," she hums.

Her shoulders raise and lower, rattling the box under her robe. "I dunno, gotta think on that. Perhaps its an elaborate joke by the church of Tarien? Unsure."

She looks over his practice, the feather from before reaching up to take the loincloth off her head. "... should let you get back to your trainin'," mentions, the fabric being folded neatly over itself and offered back to Aelwyn once more.

Aelwyn lets out a grunt at the kick, but he flicks his tongue at her. "Hmmh, this one will keep it in mind." The draconian assures her. Rubbing his shin with one foot, he tilts his head at her. "Lay it by the box or keep it." He rolls his shoulders. "She did the job well, it seems." Another amused rumbling sound.

Slowly lowering his spear off his shoulders, he rolls his shoulders and bows his head. "... she does not wish to stay and watch?" The Dragoon offers, but slowly walks into the circle of pots. "It is warmer here than there."

Slixvah's feather deposits the cloth on the warm box, her chuckling and shaking her head. "I told ya, I can't wear it. Hips too big."

She considers the offer before giving a slow nod. A hand makes a few gestures, drying a quick spot on the ground before she quickly sits on it. Wings unfurl and wrap around her body, making a personal tent for herself to ward from the weather. "Dance on, pretty boy," she gestures towards him with a little laugh.

The chained box's arcane glyphs glow silently and passively within the dark cocoon of feathers and witch.

"Pretty boy? Tch, leave the coins after the dance." The Dragoon calls out, picking up one of the pots with ease. "This one will flutter her first." Aelwyn grins, with his teeth glinting against the light - and then the dance begins, fire swirling and swaying in the dark rain.

-End Scene-