Spiderbug
Tenebrae - Tuesday, October 11, 2016, 9:41 PM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A05: Ox-Strength Tavern *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and dock-workers frequent this place, making it one of the most dangerous bars in the city. Its wooden floors and sturdy furniture are scarred from brawls, and the plaster on the walls is broken away in places from the brick underneath. Tucked against the large, steel diamond-pained windows are a few narrow booths providing a view of the street and all its traffic while letting smoky sunlight stream in and preventing patrons being thrown out through them. Little lamps hang from the cieling beams to provide light when the sun goes down.
At the back is a long bar of pitted, much-polished oak sitting beneath a bay of cuboards. Its here that the owner of the bar can usually be found operating the taps and fiddling with the large copper samovar on one end against the wall when she isn't out serving drinks and basically running the whole bar. There's even a few potted violets behind the bar in the open case where bottles are stored. There's a sign in chalk listing the house specialities, along with whatever will be being served for dinner that night.
The food and drink here is good, despite the clientele's rough and frankly undesirable nature and the smell of pipe tobacco and beer that never seems to come out of the wood; the most popular thing being the curries redolent with spices and the hard ciders, both of which she makes herself in the kitchen. Part of the bar itself, it should be noted, bears the marks of electric damage, with spidery black burn marks radiating out from a charred spot right near the inner edge, where the 'tender stool is located.
Over against one wall is a pot-bellied wood stove, with two much-abused leather chairs facing it. Near to that is a locked door that appears to lead to the owner's apartment above the Ox, while a pair of swinging doors at the end of the bar leads to the kitchen.
Mikilos sits quietly near the end of the bar, idly enjoying a book and something thick and dark in a mostly clean glass. Wizardly elves aren't exactly typical customers in these parts, but the locals seem to leave him well enough alone. The fresh scorch marks might have a little something to do with that.
Some arguement or other is carrying itself out mutedly in one of the window-booths. Its the sort of discussion one would do better to pretend not to be able to hear.
WHAM!
Myrana lifts her hand up off of the bar where she's just slammed a cup upside down over a terrified looking spiderbug with a 'HAH!' that was utterly and totally swallowed up by the sudden and very loud sound of the glass impacting the wood.
"Hah! HAH! FINALLY!" She puts her hand atop the butt of the cup and peers in through the cloudy glass at the bug, which is attempting to bite the inside. Or maybe its just shitting its spiderbug pants. Who knows. "Little bastard! I knew it!"
Mikilos blinks, glancing over with mild intrest, his reading forgotten for the moment. "Knew what? Bugs been getting into your booze stash again? You know that's not even the best excuse the Oxley have tried."
"Hah!" Myrana looks at Mikilos, flush with victory. "No, I've been trying to catch this spider for weeks; I keep waking up and there's more webs in the cieling beams above my bed, even though I've cleaned up there a hundred times." There is no earthly way she's cleaned it even five times in the past few weeks, but the sentiment is the same. "But no matter how hard I look, no spiders."
Mikilos mmmmms mildly, peering at the poor but under glass. "...that's a hunting spider. They don't make webs. They eat other spiders. Besides, doesn't Rum usually keep the spider population in check by running in terror from them?"
Myrana pauses.
Myrana hrmphs, and picks the glass up. The hunting spider seems more or less harmed, if a little concussed from sonic damage. It eventually ambles off. She wipes down the counter when its safely away somewhere under its own power. "I saw him eating fruitflies recently," she says, loyally. Poor Rum isn't much of a familiar.
Mikilos chuckles and nods, peering around absently. "Where is the little guy anyway? Havn't seen him around recently. Then again, last time I did see him he'd almost gotten stepped on by a drunken orc."
"He's sleeping upstairs," Myrana leans her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hands, a little sleepily. Its getting towards the end of the day and sunlight is coming in through the window panes over there. "I found him rooting around in the cellar earlier and had to dig him out of the turnips. He keeps making them sprout. How's the stout, mister Mithralla?"
"Is that what this is?" Mikilos inquires. "Touch on the bitter side, but generally robust. Bit of an aftertaste, reminds me of hickory, but not quite. It's good, but not one of your best." He takes another sip, thoughtful, and shrugs.
Myrana nods, smiling a little wrily. "I've been getting more interested in brewing ciders lately. I've got an imperial cider in barrels right now; pretty excited to see how it turns out." She straightens, and puts the bar towel over her shoulder with a flap. "If that glass'll last you for now, I'm about to switch off with Finneous. I need to check up on my wife, make sure she hasn't kicked any customers." A pause. "Today."
Mikilos chuckles. "I'll be fine. I know my way around well enough, and tend to be more prompt than Finneous. More honest, as well. Anyway, yes, though what has the Lady Sandiel been up too of late? I havn't heard any new rumors."
Boshter has arrived.
Myrana is standing behind her bar, and Mikilos is standing at it.
And then there is Boshter. Creeping up behind Mikilos. TO HUG HIM. "MIKILOS," he yells. "HELLO!"
<OOC> Myrana sets because she's so loquacious
"Hurrrrklllgur...." Mikilos wheezes. Because he is being hugged. No, make that HUGGED. Because it is Boshter.
For once, it's not Myrana being crushed to death in the orange vise. She grips the side of her bar and boggles at them, startled but relieved that she is back here, with two feet of wood between her and way too much physical contact.
Myrana says, "Boshter."
Myrana says, "Boshter could you--"
Myrana waves her hands anxiously. "Maybe you should--
Mikilos turns colors.
Myrana's hand-waving turns more urgent. "B-Boshter!"
Boshter huuuuuuuuuuuuuuug. And then Mikilos back goes POPOPOPOPOP as Boshter gives him another squeeze and then sets him down. Remarkably, Mikilos' back rpobably feels GREAT.
"HI!"
"...heeeeee....kem... hah... he... hello Boshter." Mikilos gasps, taking a few deep breathes, but grinning.
"You know what I'm sure Sandy's fine out there," Myrana is saying to herself as she busies her hands pouring something for Boshter so she does not expose herself to the terrible, worse-than-death fate of AFFECTION. "How many people could she possibly be terrorizing right now really NO YOU CAN GO HOME FINNEOUS." She waves him off anxiously. "I DO NOT NEED TO LEAVE."
"I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU, MYRANA!" Boshter says loudly, happily. Clearly, Myrana may need to leave after all! "It is a PRESENT!"
Mikilos stretches carefully, enjoying the option of arm movement. "A present? Is it your aniversary already Myrana? Or perhaps your birthday?"
"I don't have a birthday!" Myrana says. "You should give it to Mikilos, Boshter."
Myrana is eyeing him warily.
A bottle is produced! Boshter holds it out to Myrana! It's rather opaque. "It is for your hair," he tells her, loudly.
Myrana opens her mouth... then shuts it. And leans over the bar to take it, looking a little like she isn't EXACTLY SURE whether this is super innapropriate, or considerate. Because she has hair.
"Open it up and take a sniff," says Boshter, happily. "It's a hair wash thingy!"
Mikilos eyes the bottle, mildly glad he's on the far side of the bar from it.
Myrana opens it up, sniffs it... and then gives Boshter a deeply irritated look.
Boshter looks earnestly confused!
There is a powerful aroma of tangerines.
GAME: Boshter rolls Bluff: (1)+-1: 0
"Thank you, Boshter," says Myrana, putting the cap back on it with a grumble. "What a lovely aroma."
Boshter can't help it. He busts out laughing and doubles over.
"...I'm sure that's very thoughtful." Mikilos manages to say with a straight face.
"I feel like Sandy would have something to say about this," Myrana's eyes are narrowed. Like there's something on the tip of her tongue.
Myrana says, "But its probably gross."
Myrana puts a glass down in front of Boshter. "So I am going to discount it from the record."
Tilting his head, Boshter looks a little lost. "Okay! ANd okay!" He beams down at th eglass.
Mikilos says, "I tend to just stick to magic. Fewer chemicals to worry about."
Myrana goes OOC.
Boshter goes OOC.