Hash It out Over Breakfast

Log Info

• Title: Hash It out Over Breakfast
• Emitter: Yaretzi
• Characters: Yaretzi, Aelwyn, Skielstregar, Alaryn, Irshya
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: August 24th, 2022
• Summary: Yaretzi is enjoying a nice book and eating breakfast at the TarRaCe, her being served by a new hire waiter: Aelwyn. Skielstregar soon joins them, as well as Alaryn. Skiel helps get a hair comb (why is it artifice powered?) out of Alaryn's hair as he talks about some aspects of makari culture and heritage. Teasing of titles ends up becoming inflamed words between Yaretzi and Aelwyn, them going back and forth before Skielstregar puts his foot down. Yaretzi leaves to go cool off just as Irshya joins them. Topic changed, they speak of shark teeth and Skiel's odd weapon. Aelwyn gets his uniform. Everyone approves (except Aelwyn).

Time/Setting: Early Morning - Breakfast - The TarRaCe

The morning rush is mild, but it is still busy with those who come to bathe, and others who begin their day with meal and drink. Not every drink on the menu is alcoholic, just most of them. With the rush a variety of things to eat are available, ranging from mundane to obscure.

Yaretzi sits at a table more towards the statues of the three gods this place is dedicated too, a plate resting before her as she reads a fairly thick tome. Today she doesn't wear anything like her warrior vestments, but instead she is clad in a simple pair of cream colored fisherman's pants, and a loose top of white that hangs well below her waist. Simple sandals, but nothing like those of the city. Upon her dish is several things that could be beetles, cracked open, and steamed with butter to create a succulent dish that exposes their unique meat. It's white, and fairly fluffy. While this might make some people squirm and ick, it seems to be something that the barbarian has no second thoughts about. A fork is readily held in hand and used to stab the soft meat, tearing it from husk.

Yaretzi's gaze flicks to the morsel, taking her bite and chewing before going back to her tome. It seems to be something about Gilead and the forest magics, and she's about halfway through.

A droplet of water falls on her book - and then another plate is pushed into her view. "Her dessert," The Dragoon rumbles behind her, before the plate held by his fingertips is neatly pushed onto the table. Was it her dessert? Perhaps not - but Aelwyn was not particularly known for being one of the best waiters in the TarRaCe. The chocolate did smell of lingonberries and pine, though.

"This does not seem like one of Jaguar's red books." The unruly waiter comments as he steps into view - somebody had made an effort to put a tie on him, but it was now just hanging open around his neck and over his bared chest. Not even the red loincloth has given way to a snappier dress. "Another drink?" He asks with a low rumble, sliding his tail off around her chair's leg.

Still chewing, Yaretzi looks up to Aelwyn with a raised brow. If she cared of the droplet on her book it doesn't show on her face. She swallows, fork rested on the nudged over plate. "This is book of nature tales. Red books? They are tales of smut and comedy." the nature of the books not bothering her. "Yar reads many books. All kinds. Survival tales, and anything Yar like." she shrugs.

The book is closed, the woman smirking as Aelwyn plays waiter, something about him causing her to give him a glance over. "Drink? Is there juices, or something for morning?" she inquires, eyes taking in that slithering tail, though she doesn't mention it, she shifts sligthly in her seat. "And what is dessert?" a nostril twitching as she leans to take its scent. "Showing off your work's treats?"

"Hmmh, she looks more like a reader every time this sees her. Jaguars all read that many words?" As usual, the Dragoon had moisture clinging onto his scales, red loincloth and a body he wasn't ashamed of stretching out in front of her - but he had that half gnawed tied laid across his chest and some sort of dark leather bands over his wrists. "Plenty of juice. What does the Jaguar thirst?" He asks, as he adjusts the bands on his wrists with a grin and a flick of his tongue.

The dessert mentioned, Aelwyn tips his head. "Hmm? This one is not paid to show off. Explicitly." He rolls his shoulders and lightly whips his tail about the chair's back, before he leans over the table. "She did not order the lingon-four...te?" The Dragoon asks, vaguely gesturing at the innocent tiny sweet square in the middle. "Hmmh. Maybe it was the wrong table." Long stare at the dessert.

"Not my order, but tempting." Yaretzi jests, taking a breath and looking about the establishment, and then back to Aelwyn. "Has Dragoon tasted before?" motioning to the treat.

"Dragoon not read? Yar reads what Yar wants. Mostly nature, survival, and.... romance." the woman grinning. "Not a scholar, but words help. Knowing words, and learning more words. Good, yeah?" the barbarian's explanation coming with a wave of hand.

"Look like reader? What do readers look like? Don't most read?" confusion on Yaretzi's brow, having to think on this for a moment, and shrugging. "Not best reader. Ask friends what some words mean... but not worst." Yaretzi's words somewhat puzzled. "Next, think Yar bad with math."

"Freshest juice is fine, if job be waiter. Give excuse to come and check and chat on Yar, yes?"

Aelwyn looks at the treat in the center of the table, then glances at the spoon. He picks up the utensil and slices the treat in half, before carefully scooping bits of it into his mouth. Rumbling, he looks at her as he slowly chews on the chocolate - and then with a whip of his tongue, responds, "This one has. Jaguar made a good choice." He answers with a toothier grin.

"Hmmh, readers? Usually they walk with books in their hands. Clinging onto those covers like they were fighters in a fight - " The ruddy sith-makar flexes his fingers. The purple tipped tail of his slides along when he smoothly moves to clean up her table from any empty glasses or plates - but he makes a point to lean against her and quietly croon, "Or shy as if they were hiding a little affair, flushed and tense."

Yaretzi rolls an eye towards Aelwyn, taking up her fork, and snatching up that second bite of treat. She doesn't speak, tasting it and letting the flavored chocolate melt on her tongue. It's a moment before she speaks, even letting her eyes fall closed. "Tis good." she relents, swaying briefly in her seat. "Choice Dragoon says. Hmm, maybe not mine." Yaretzi muses in her dull humor.

"Yaretzi not afraid of being seen with crimson books. More, was caught with one in bath. Not good for books, well, unless no drop." Yar clarifies, but her smile does remain. "Does Dragoon like teasing? Affair be hard when Yar have no husband. Dragoon not want wedding yet Yar guesses."

Aelwyn leans over to clean up the dessert plate as well. "This one remembers," He tells her, "This one has to clean up the baths." He rumbles and taps on the side of her chair with the bottom of his tail. Straightening out, he looks down at her. "Hmmh, this one finds the best flavors are teased out. Then a full on gut punch of taste feels that much more satisfying." He rumbles, one hand holding the pile of spent cutleries.

Stretching his tail out, the ruddy scaled Dragoon rolls his shoulders back and rumbles, "Something else with her juice?"

A looming figure steps into the TarRaCe this early morning day, ducting under the entrance so they don't jam their horns into the side of the building. They give a big yawn, rows of gnarly teeth on display as a cloud of frozen mist blankets the ceiling. "Oh, goodnesss," he shakes his head, getting the sleepy out. It's Skielstregar!

Well, minus all the weapons and armor. Save for the shiniy halberd being used as a walking stick, and a silver bangle attached to his tail. He's lumbering about, searching for a spot that can support him before the shiny silver scale pauses and-

"Purple!" he calls out. "Where'sss your uniform?"

A cold teddy bear slowly approaches.

The TarRace is a place Alaryn found just last night. More like she couldn't sleep because it was so hot, and was just wandering the night. But either way, she liked the place, and after a bit of sleep finally, she sought the place out for breakfast. Currently, she has bedhead, and has been trying to work some kinks out of her hair. Nevermind the artifice powered-hairbrush she's trying to use. Okay, it's not quite working right, and she winces in pain as the thing pulls on her hair too hard once.

This happens as she comes around a corner and sniffs the air. "Oh.." she mutters, turning towards the place the food smell is coming from. And so we have Alaryn, the merchant and artificer approaching a place that is selling some small meat pie type things... the hairbrush dangling from her hair... twitching still in semi-powered mode. . . seemingly forgotten.

"Silver-Scale!" Yaretzi calls as she spots Skielstregar as he enters, smirking broadly. "Come, and sit." she calls across the establishments' main room. "Yar is having breakfast, and rest. Let Yar buy drinks!"

To Aelwyn, Yaretzi smirks. "Now Dragoon has to clean? When there those whom need services?" Yar asks, smirking and pointing to her hopefully growing table.

It takes a moment for Yaretzi to notice Alaryn, the merchant woman's device being what draws her eye, and once Yar understands what she is looking at, she can't help but raise a hand to the other woman with a nod. "Fancy Cart-Lady." Yaretzi blurts. "Uh, Alaryn. Yeah?" confirming before she talks more.

With a chill around his neck, Aelwyn turns his head - and there was Skielstregar. Rumbling, he bows his head at him. "Silver, peace on the nest." He idly picks at the things on his wrist and his claws slowly slide along the floor. "In... washing?"

Head turned towards Yaretzi, he looks at her momentarily, then with a rumbling chuckle, "Usually when there is most to clean." Finally taking his plates away, he begins to walk towards the kitchen - though he makes a brief stop by Alaryn's side. "Stranger will be served at the table." Another bow of his head, and he steps into the kitchen proper.

"Huh?" asks Alaryn in her eloquent manner. She tilts her head to the left and looks towards Yaretzi. Then she smiles, "Exactly right!" she admits as she turns and almost skips happily towards Yaretzi and her company. A bright and cheery smile lights up her face before she hears the twitching motorized hairbrush, and then she blushes as she reaches up to grab the thing. The thing is right well stuck there.

"Um... help?" she asks in a small voice as she arrives byYaretzi.

Skielstregar pauses briefly as another person calls him out, and his dead eyes squint in a smile. "Claw! Good to sssssee you once more!" He ambles over, taking care to avoid smashing into others. Grabbing an extra chair (he's a big guy, he needs two!), he sits himself down across from Yaretzi. "If you are buying drinksss, might thisss one have coffee? They are sssstill waking up."

He can't help but look a tiiinge crestfallen at his friend leaving just as he got there, but no matter. "Peassse on your nessst, Dancer. Thisss one wantss to sssee what Irshya put you in." Is he being cheeky? He's being cheeky, the little 'flick-flick' of his tail is a dead giveaway.

Then, finally, a new person rolling in. Even without his weapons and armor, he's still imposing, and chilly to be around. And yet... "Hmm? Oh- come here. Ssstay still, thisss one can remove it," he asks, beckoning over.

Yaretzi nods slowly to Aelwyn as he heads on his way, glancing back to the other two after he abruptly departs. "Skielstregar has hands which want to help." Yaretzi muses, turning to catch another member of waitstaff to order the Makari a coffee as he asked. It doesn't take but a moment, and then she's standing to appraise the situation of Alaryn with a stern glance.

"What was this supposed to do?" Yar asks, motioning Skiel from his seat, and trying to herd Alaryn towards the larger man. "Skielstregar help many, he might help better than I?" Yaretzi's muses. "Comb move by itself? How it know where to go, and how?" the magical intricacies eluding the woman, but for now she tries to make talk. She doesn't want to be the one to manhandle this thing, but just in case, she pulls out a small knife from somewhere on her, despite her loose clothes. "We can cut out if must." maybe being a bit extreme there, but the thought of trying to help is sincere.

"Um.. it was supposed to brush hair with less effort from the user." admits Alaryn. "Turns out, it may as well be a mana powered hair tangler."

But she holds up a hand to ward of Skielstregar. But only for a moment as she reaches her other hand up and flips a switch that powers down the brush. "There. That might be easier." she says, still blushing as she turns to present the tangled up hair and brush to the volunteer. "Thank you by the way."

Skiel sets aside his halberd to learn against the table, the blade of which was gleamed silver, and reflected the scales of the its wielder with mirror-like clarity. A thankful nod is afforded towards Yaretzi's hospitality as he turns in his seat(s) to face the poor soul with their hair caught up.

Wait, he doesn't have hair, and those talons are long and sharp. A ghoulishly cold hand reaches out and-

Two talons clamp carefully around the device. Another talon gently reaches behind and tugs free strands. "Ssshould have turned it off sssooner," he rumbles, carefully working on it with a gentleness that doesn't match his size.

Yes, the Sith-Makar's actions are far more gentler than that of Yaretzi. As he uses a delicate touch and takes his time, her blade is again stowed as she moves to draw a seat closer for both Alaryn, and Skielstregar so they are not awkward in this dance of auto-brush and claw in hair. "It is stopped now, but... did bad thing well before so." the large woman observes in a dry manner, sighing. "Not as good as pan, yeah?" a frown, and shrug. "New thing, trying out?" making idle chatter as this issue is dealt with. Soon coffee arrives for the silver-scaled makari.

"If you do need to cut it out... I understand." says Alaryn reluctantly. She starts to shake her head, and stops as she realizes that'll make it harder for her rescuer. "But yeah... I know I should have turned it off sooner. But I smelled something amazing." And there, as if triggered by those words, her stomach rumbles and growls like some predator warning another hunter to get away.

But she looks to Yaretzi then and half-nods before she stops her head once more.... wincing as she causes herself more pain and makes the task of freeing the brush from her hair just a little more difficult. "Yep. First time using it." She agrees sullenly.

Skielstregar continues his careful work. Muttering some things under his breah such as, "How did it get like thisss?" and "Oh no, thisss strand is lossst..." A talon snips individual hairs that aren't recoverable, but, slowly, the automated brush is freed. And he gives a little sigh of relief.

He offers it. "Here you are. Take care of machinesss near the body next time," he advises with a closed eye smile before turning back to- "Ah! Coffee! Thank you Godclaw." He picks up the cup, in inhales some of it. Hot liquid plus cold guy equals a lot of steam rolling out of his maw. "How fare you?"

"Bored these days." Yaretzi observes and answers Skiel's words, offering a subtle shrug as she meanders back to her seat. "Lots of work, but no fun things." her eye rising to track the steam that pours forth from the Makari's thin lips and teeth as he speaks. "Why so is Makari cold? Yar see this many times." she finally has to ask, sitting and taking up her juice after it arrives. It had come earlier, but wasn't noticed until after Alaryn's hair was freed.

"So, will brush ever work, or is that it for project?" Yaretzi's curious tone coming about Alaryn's craft. "Imagine things take time, and not always work at first, yes?" seeming to be curious about the item's development, or just making idle chatter. It could be either, the question seems sincere all the same.

The brush finally freed, Alaryn lets out a sigh of relief. And as she steps back, freed from it.. she shakes her head to feel the hair flowing free. She closes her eyes and smiles, "Many thanks." she says to Skielstregar. "If I can help you in some way in the future, I will. Maybe a discount on services or products?" she asks with a smile.

Then she offers a hand to the ginormous Sith-Makar. "I am Alaryn, merchant and artificer." And then her eyes flicker towards Yaretzi and she shrugs with a little grin on her face, "Just a personal experiment to see if it is viable. I think it needs more work... and I will never admit that I said this if you tell anyone I did, but... it might be something that doesn't -need- artifice to improve it."

Skielstregar chuckles, wrapping his hands around the large cup. "Thisss one could offering sssome kind of sparring to break the dull?" he suggests. "Thiss one and Dancer Aewlyn practice often." The question makes him perk up. "Thisss one's isss related, long ago, to the sssilver dragonsss. Their blood isss strong with it, ssso much ssso they can even freeze with just their breath."

As a demonstration, he lulls his head back and up to the ceiling. Inhales, and lets out a small gout of frozen mist into the air.

He turns to Alaryn, him reaching forth and carefully taking the hand. It's cold, like holding an ice cube. And stiff. But he shakes it nonetheless. "Ssskielstregar, Warrior Cassste. Ssservant of the Dragonfather," he introduces.

He leans back. "Not everything needsss fancy machinessss," he opines. "The more complicated something isss, the more chancesss it hasss for failure." A glance down, then he points out. "Like your armor. Mithril isss simple once harnessed. And gives no quarter to itsss quality despite the lightnesss."

It had been several minutes after the Dragoon had disappeared into the kitchen, but he soon appears. Dressed and dressed sharp? Hardly. Instead, he now had a bit of smoke and a very strong scent of pepper circling around him. The tie that was hung around his neck though - very crispy.

"Silver, Jaguar." The Dragoon rumbles as he lays down the plate of thick sandwiches and a coffee cup. "Apologies for any delays with their orders." They may have not ordered the sandwiches - but that is what they had. "Kitchen was on fire." Toothy grin.

Yaretzi had been waving after Alaryn, but the sight of Aelwyn causes her to pause. A singed, and rather smoke-laced Makari getting a stare that lasts for few brief moments. "Is Dragoon cooking, or this from near cooks?" confused, but also amazed how the Sith-Makar seems as unphazed as he does. "Fire usually how many cook food, but if so bad, non-cooked food fine." smirking, and shaking her head. "Does thick hide not blister easy? If Yar was covered in such smoke, she'd suspect hurt."

Skielstregar blinks at Aelwyn's state of attire, but he just rumbles a chuckle and blows a gout of cold air at him. Just enough to staunch the smoke.

"That isss what thiss one was ssaying, Godclaw." A thankful nod for the coffee. More coffee. "Makari are close to dragon-kin. Our ssscalesss bely that. Dancer Aelwyn here isss clossser to red. Fire isss their affinity. Thisss one's mate isss also redscaled. She handlesss fire and heat just like Aelwyn here. Thisss one enjoysss the winter and sleeps in the snow."

The ruddy and singed - and then with a sharp hiss, chilled - sith-makar stares at Yaretzi with his orange eyes for a time. "No, this one did not cook. He is not paid coin for cooking." Which, might have been a good thing. He turns to look towards Skielstregar when the larger - and elder - sith-makari explains, and then with a grin one can expect from such a short and cocky draconian can expect, he thwaps his chest with his fist. "This one is a Dragoon, Jaguar." Leaning in closer, his tail whips about behind him. "Though Silver fails that he blushes and flusters easily." He rumbles with a nod towards the larger male, grinning.

Rolling his shoulders back, he moves to sit down by the pair's table. One of the sandwiches is shamelessly claimed by him.

"Makari of fire, and Makari of ice." Yaretzi muses, nodding to Skielstregar's words as he flicks his inhuman glance between Aelwyn and herself. "Yar does not like cold, preferring fire and heat... but only because such cold is not natural to lands of home. It is new, and unnatural. Seasons of city... bring change and discomfort." she admits, shrugging and looking to the second meal, and sliding it towards Skielstregar.

"Ate my fill earlier, I did. Eat, friend." motioning with a hand as she sits back into her seat.

"Yes, yes... trumpet it often Dragoon does. It is hard to forget. Dragoon might as well be name." Yar says with a laugh.

Skielstregar fails to catch the rumble to Yaretzi, him busy sipping heavily on the coffee cup and enjoying the wake up juice. "Ah, yesss, the seasssonsss here took much to get ussed to here."

The offer of the meal makes him perk up. "Thisss one thanksss you," he bows his head, taking a hearty sandwhich and... one monch. This man ate the whole thing in one monch.

He gulps, wiping his maw off with the back of a hand. "Yesss. It iss sssomething one should be proud of." He holds up a finger. "Take care it doesssn't slide to arrogance."

His halberd clangs to the floor. Skiel looks down, frowns, then picks it back up, this time wedging it so it won't move.

Aelwyn's mane of quills flex out. "And what if it is, Jaguar?" The Dragoon asks with narrowed slit pupils and a low throaty rumble. "Is she claiming this is not worthy of being called one?" He chomps at his sandwich - which, unlikely Skiel's, remains still somewhat together after. "Or that it is not worthy as a name?" His tail slowly meanders behind him as he continues to sit there and stare at the taller woman - up until the blade drops.

The ruddy-scaled sith-makar stares at where the halberd well. Then back at Skielstregar. "... is Silver feeling alright?" He asks, with genuine worry.

"Names and titles different. Dragoon is job title, not name." Yar says, eyes having flicked to the blade as it had fallen with a clatter. It's not enough to jar her, but a glance is flashed between the two. "What goes on? Some worry unknown to friend?" her attention soon on Skielstregar, as Aelwyn asks his question, seeming to let things focus there as the larger Sith-Makar is soon just watched, the quickly ate meal just as soon forgotten once it was inhaled out of sight.

Skielstregar raises a scaled brow at Aelwyn, gaze sliding from him to Yaretzi. Making sure he didn't need to step in.

A little huff leaves him. "thisss one themssselves isss fine. Their weapon, however, hass been acting... odd. Asss of late." He looks down to the silvery halberd. A talon runs across the flat of the axe-head, the reflection in it showing the passing of flawless silver scales. "It doess not grow tarnished asss oft. And thisss one hass found it in strange placesss. Once, it even melted in their handsss and reformed during a fight. These magicsss are not what thisss one had the Shamansss imbue it with."

Aelwyn's eyes slowly turn towards Yaretzi - and there was a sense of silence from him. A very physical kind of silence from the usual active sith-makar. "If it is just a 'job title' to her, Jaguar," He straightens to a stand. "Then perhaps the claw will see it herself in the Colosseum." One did not need to be too accustomed with sith-makar to see the fire boiling inside that seemingly calm appearance. "In her terms - I challenge you to a fight." All that young and bolsterous energy.

"Hmm, Yar sees." The human says, flicking a glance from Skeilstregar to Aelwyn. "Dragoon you wish to be called instead of by name Aelwyn? Enough to fight Yar over?" she says, brow raising as she takes a moment to think in her seat. "Yar think it a silly thing to puff over, more so since Dragoon looked for fight long since before." she notes dryly. "Is this not just pride filling head? No insult has been offered, but differences make one so mad? Temper worse than Yar's, and Yar's temper is bad." a chuckle coming with her tone.

"Makari can make smooth croons of wanting to win something from Yar, but never once did Makari think about what trying to win Yar means." The woman adds, not barbing at Aelwyn, but stating something of her thoughts in a matter-of-fact tone. "Yar has road that is walked, one not littered with games of tongue, and silken words. If Aelwyn want fight, it will not be nice fight, nor fight as friends." she reasons. "Unless Aelwyn think Yaretzi honorless, this fight... full of ego."

Skielstregar raises his attention from his musings of the odd weapon to the roiling fires of pride from the Dragoon. He's silent for now, watching and listening, him already have given his warning of being arrogant before. The silverscale would step in if needed, but this discussion seems to be one of those that need to happen, and he didn't need to butt in just yet.

He sets his halberd down on his lap, taking another sandwhich as he takes his time with this one. A reflection of a life filled silver eye glancing to and fro between Godclaw and Dragoon.

Aelwyn makes a sudden snap twist of his fist and fingers, hitting the table hard. "It is not _just_ a name. It is not _just_ a job." The ruddy scaled sith-makar rumbles. "Would she watch me spit on her?" He takes in a deep breath and rolls his shoulders. "This one has very little interest in winning her over."

Taking his tie, he flicks it into the center of the table. "She thinks this is one of smooth scales and looser words -" He leans onto the table with his clawed fingers and moves to look Yaretzi into the eye. "But if this one dies as a Dragoon, he will die knowing he died as one." He thumps his tail against the floor. "Unbound, and unbroken."

"Then is not talk of 'winning' Yar not an insult to her being Claw?" Yaretzi points out, the slammed hand watched with a slight huff of breath. "That when she talk of ways of people, and what such courtship means? Tried to explain." The woman says in a heavier tone. "Yet, talk of such things and teases remained. Oh, but curse Yaretzi for belittling station of Dragoon by not showing proper respect."

"I think, Dragoon doesn't understand issues Yar speaks of." Yaretzi says, standing from her seat. "Yar is not one who insulted first. Yar is no trinket to be won and worn on arm to later be discarded. Claw's find worthy mates through trial, and before such things, Yar has purpose to fulfill." her tone soon having an edge. "Dragoon is fun, but when disrespect is shown for /his/ calling, then he want to hurt Yar? Yar notes this."

Skiel was glad that he finished his coffee, him watching the mug bounce and roll to its side at the slam of the fist. He reaches over, adjusting the cup to sit correctly. Learning new things about the ruddy scale. And the Godclaw.

A sigh leaves him, he rubs his face, and the makari rises. Looming.

"Enough," he rumbles in a growl, the halberd in hand drips a black ichor.

The silverscale addresses Aelwyn. "Dragoon. You are finding barbs where none lay. Thisss isss softskinsss land. We mussst ressspect ssssoftskin waysss."

To Yaretzi. "Godclaw. Makari are prideful of the titlesss and waysss of life we bessstow upon ourssselvess."

To both, halberd shining silver as he rests against it, dead gaze squinting. "Thisss one doess not mind thisss discussion, but peassse. Be calm. Both of you."

A small form wanders through the doorway that leads to the baths. The wee, blue Goblin is dressed in a white bathrobe that is a few sizes too big, and behind her follows a trail of wet, bare footprints. She pauses just inside the room, stretching at length, with several pops and cracks heard. Her yawn has her maw opening wide, showing off an array of white, triangular teeth.

The ruddy scaled sith-makari looks as if he was about to get onto another heated discussion - but then Skielstregar raises up on his feet and even he, not from Am'shere, had to quietly respect the larger makari's presence. Well, it was pretty hard not to for him. "She can note what she wishes." Aelwyn responds to her, with a wave of his hand. "It interests this one not."

The draconian's eyes turn away from Yaretzi, moving to instead pick up the plates and cups. "Hmmh. Silver may be right, but he belongs." The draconian rumbles, piling up the food. Plenty of TarRaCe was undoubtedly staring at the trio by now. "Will they have more?" The draconian - uncharacteristically dryly - asks.

"Stubborn fool of a lizard." Yar's head given a shake. "Be mad over your title, but it was you whom made light of Yar's path, and crooned and teased first." her words calm, and her shirt straightened while she gives a glance about now quiet main room. "So care not, and do not speak again to this one. She will focus on her own matters, and leave the Dragoon well alone." turning to shrug to Skielstregar, and then head towards the door. Well, after she's made sure to pay her tab.

Irshya is noted, eyes locking on the small goblin-woman for a moment as she finishes her business, a nod cast, and then she attempts to be on her way.

Skielstregar grunts once, raising his head to look down at both of them as they give their last spats. A slight nod of acknowledgement to Godclaw as she goes, as well in thanks for paying for his tab.

Slowly, he sits back down, scooting his chair in, and ignores the silence of the main room that slooowly resumes their routine. "Aelwyn," he rumbles soft. "Thiss one will have more coffee, if you do not mind." Affording a beat to let tensions simmer out.

He wedges his halberd back into its holding spot, him casting a gaze over to spy the little gobbo. He gives her a wave in greeting, but he's being rather delicate.

The Gobbo blinks at Yaretzi, and then smiles and waves. "Thank you, come again soon!" Irshya's smile is marred by her two main upper teeth being missing.

She quickly move to Aelwyn's side, hugging at his arm. "And after you get Skiel's drink, Irshya has your uniform.", she says softly. Releasing the red-scale, the pool shark latches onto Skiel's arm, hugging firmly.

Aelwyn bows his head towards the larger sith-makari. "Of course." And then Irshya just appears by his side again, snapping him out of the serious-trance. "Sharkie, she should not surprise him like that." The draconian rumbles, but he bows his head. "If she must." With a flick of his tail and a glance towards the larger silver makari, he turns on his heel and heads towards the counter to get more coffee.

Skielstregar bobs his head, looking down to the burnt bowtie on the table. He blinks, then looks down at the figure holding onto his cold arm. The massive makari lifts his arm. "Hello, Irshya," he rumbles, peeling her off his arm and plopping her on a booster seat: his leg. "Thisss one isssue curious of the uniform you have."

"She must.", Irshya says softly. She squeaks as she's lifted up, and settles comfortably on the silver-scale's leg.

"Irshya noted that he likes his loincloth, and bared scales. So she made him a fancy loincloth in black, that has extra cloth to cover the sides of his thighs. Still lets him move freely. And I bought a blouse shirt, it should be good enough to cover him, but loose enough to keep cool and show off his chest a little."

Slowly, Aelwyn returns holding out his tray. Cups and a pot of coffee; but he was also constantly tugging at his white blouse's buttons and the neckline, the shirt already mostly undone. "Hrrh, how can softskins wear these things?" He rumbles by himself as the black and heavy loincloth sways with his steps. Very fresh and sharp looking pencil was stuffed behind his pointed ear and a pad of paper was stuffed into one of the pockets on the side flaps of his loincloth. The black 'bands' have been replaced with gold cufflinks.

"Silver's coffee," The Dragoon says as he bows his head, putting out the cups for him and Irshya, before starting to pour.

And very quietly he murmurs to Skielstregar, "She was very vehement." Another tug at his blouse.

Skiel makes a rumbling sound that vibrates the air from being so close to him. "That sssoundss like it will fit them well. You made sssuch a thing? That isss impressive," he commends.

And then, the fruits of labor are revealed. His brows raise high. "... it looksss very nice on you, Aelwyn," he hums, giving a closed eye smile. "And thank you."

He offers one cup to the little gobbo on his leg as another is taken to sip on.

"Well, it's a trick Irshya learned. She bought things close to what she wanted and simply modified them. It is kind of like cheating.", she confides to Skielstregar.

The pool shark giggles and sighs at Aelwyn. "You look good! It shouldn't be too warm, and you can roll up your sleeves!"

Her cup is quickly drained in several noisy gulps. "Thank you to you both.", Irshya says with another gaptoothed smile.

Aelwyn couldn't be doing that faster, sleeves rolled up in a snap. Fingers flex out as if in need of airing. The ruddy-but-dressed sith-makar bows his head towards both. "Gratitude," And while he looked still quite uncertain about the whole uniform - it was very easy to spot contentment at the praise leveled at him.

"Sharkie seems to possess quite few little talents of her own," Aelwyn says as he moves to take a seat opposite of the pair. "But what has happened to her teeth?" And then after a pause, from Skielstregar, "And to his halberd?"

Skielstregar pats Irshya atop the head. "You are jussst being resourceful. You are welcome."

He bobs his head to Aelwyn, taking another sip of coffee. "Of courssse. Sssee the clothesss asss like... ribbonsss for ssscales. It make make thingsss looking even better."

The large makari blinks. Their halberd? It'sss right-" He wafts a hand where the weapon was resting and it's... not there?

Oh, wait, there it is. Same spot, just shifted to the side a foot. The flat of the axe-head reflects the makari's confused face. "... sssee? It doesss that. That'sss what thiss one was telling you before all that."

"Irshya's teeth fall out regularly. She has more that will grow in soon!", the poolshark explains cheerfully, before she begins licking at the inside of her cup. "Someone once explained it to her: shark teeth are built differently, made to break off easily. They will also dissolve in her stomach."

Irshya eyes Skiel a moment, then Aelwyn. "The weapon moves around on its own?"

Aelwyn stares at both of them with an incredulous look. First, he points a finger at Skielstregar. Then at Irshya. Then his orange pupils narrow. "How can... why does weapon... and Skielstregar is still wielding a weapon that disappears at will?"

As for Irshya, the draconian's slit pupils keep staring at her empty mouth. Then he exposes his sharp teeth and makes sure the one tooth stolen by the fairy is still there. "Don't take this one's teeth."

Skielstregar makes a 'huh', sound. "That isss interesting to know," he comments to Iryhsa.

His attention shifts back to the weapon, him reaching over to put it back where it once was before. "It hasss been with thisss one for many yearsss. It isss more a myssstery than a problem. Acting odd. But isss just a weapon. Perhapsss the magic isss being strange?"

"Irshya isn't too good with pliars, so your teeth are safe. Besides she has a drawer full of her own teeth that she would use before she'd take yours.", the Gobbo replies to Aelwyn.

"And that is a neat weapon, Skiel. Irshya likes its design. The magic makes it neat."

"Just a weapon that disappears and is lost by its owner?" The Dragoon asks with a tilt of his head. "If he did not have to, this one would never let go of his." Aelwyn adds, before turning to look towards Irshya. "A _drawer_?" Then he looks down at his uniform, then back towards Skielstregar. "Sharkie continues to carry little surprises."

Skielstregar wraps an arm around the little gobbo in a careful yet firm hug. "Thisss one thanksss you for the kind wordsss. It hasss helped them through much."

He quietly laughs, picking up Irshya, standing, and placing her on the chair(s) he was just in. "It never leavesss thisss one'sss sight. Besidesss, it handlesss thisss one'sss magicsss very well," he rumbles to Aelwyn. A hand goes into a pocket, him pulling out some silver coins. He stares at it a moment, reaching for the halberd before shoving it back and pulling out a gold coin. "Here. Keep the change," he winks, then snickers to himself. "She hasss many surprises and talents. What isss it they sssay? Big sssuprirses come in sssmall packages?"

Irshya makes a happy sound as she's hugged, and carefully set into a warm chair. "Irshya has always been happy to offer kind words and advice. She is very happy to see how well you've come along, Skielstregar. You are a different Sith. Happier. Stronger. Kind, and gentle, but fierce and strong and angry when needed."

She nods at Aelwyn, "Yes, Irshya has kept most of her fallen teeth, at least the ones she has not eaten, or giving to her Order's members. She has a dedicated following, the Order of the Tooth."

Glancing back to skiel, her cheeks flush a light lavender in colour. "Aww, now you offer her kind words in return."

"Big surprises indeed," Aelwyn grins up at Skielstregar, but he bows his head. "Gratitude. Peace on his nest and this one's thanks and apologies for... the before." He vaguely gestures at the air.

Meanwhile, he turns towards Irshya with an extremely suspicious look on his face. "This one thinks Sharkie is trying to fool this one."

Now it Skielstregar's turn to fluster, him rubbing his neck as a light frost dusts his cheeks. "They feel like a better sssoul now," he affirms. "Thank you again."

Handing the coin off to Aelwyn to pay, "Thisss one isss not the one you need to apologize to," he wisely says, reaching down to clasp the ruddy scale's shoulder. "Peassse on your nesst."

Down to Irsyha. "Both of you."

With a stretch, he collects his halberd, the metal gleaming a shining silver. And he lazily saunters on out.

"Peace on your nest!", the pool shark called out, waving to Skiel as he goes. She laughs then, "Well Irshya is not showing you her drawers. You'll have to accept that she has lost lots of teefs, and will continue to do so through her life."

Aelwyn picks up the coin and then stands up himself, starting to clear out the rest of the table. "Hmmh, this one is content not seeing her drawer of teeth." He rumbles, a brief shudder leaving him. "One has lost one tooth too many." He sways his tail and then taps Irshya's side. "Return to the kitchen?" He asks, then before he begins to head off that direction.

-End Scene-