The Commons
4 Ash 121
Hunger started its attempt to gnaw its way out his stomach through his spine when he was still in the Commons. A meeting with Elwes in the Low-City had been enlightening. She was still keeping an eye on the situation they had created in the Middens. These things always had fallout, and he wanted to know who filled the power vacuum he had created in his elaborate scheme to eliminate Celisa Kolkis' debt and slide his way into the artistic triumvirate at the Golden Peacock Theater. Now he was a legitimate businessman, but he was a bastard so he would always be a little illegitimate.
It was a strange habit for one who had literally been starving on the street at one point to be so unaware of his stomach, but he had been through a lot and he didn't know what normal was supposed to look like. He had never been normal. While he would be quick to say that like a boast, he was quietly facilitating a few normal things in his life, then hiding them from the rest of the world because he never knew when enemies would come knocking.
The place was fine, though his new coworkers would likely clutch their proverbial pearls. The place had seen better days certainly, but it was an old family business. The inn was a lot for a widow to run, and while she was still young enough to remarry, and pretty besides, she was determined to go it alone, to keep her family's dream alive for the next generation. The stew didn't have rat in it or cat, and the place was clean. She had pride of ownership, just not enough hands or hours in the day to keep it to its old standards. He did like to visit places like this whenever he could, offering his custom even though he couldn't snap his fingers and make her life better.
"Long time no see, Aurin," she said, setting a tankard in front of him without him having to ask.
"It took me this long for my heart to recover when you turned me down flat, Ri." He brought his hand to his chest in a gesture Arry the Actor might have made, then took a gulp. They shared a smile. "Just got hungry and was in your neighborhood. Glad to see the old place is still going."
"You know me, stubborn as a mule—but with good taste in men." She smirked and he let her take the piss.
"I don't know how you can even say that with a straight face when you haven't even tasted me, though."
She laughed a real laugh then. "You're incorrigible. Stew all right?"
"Whatever's easy," he assured her. "I know it's good, but my stomach's too demanding to be picky at the moment."
"Mists, but that's a silver tongue." She rolled her eyes, nodded, and headed back to the kitchen.
Aurin smiled and took another gulp of lager while looking about. He had taken the seat around the corner of the bar so he could keep his eyes on the entrance. Old habits died hard, but they kept him from dying. His mission for the nonce was to finish his drink before the food came out so he could enjoy a little swim in his head before the food settled him down.
4 Ash 121
Hunger started its attempt to gnaw its way out his stomach through his spine when he was still in the Commons. A meeting with Elwes in the Low-City had been enlightening. She was still keeping an eye on the situation they had created in the Middens. These things always had fallout, and he wanted to know who filled the power vacuum he had created in his elaborate scheme to eliminate Celisa Kolkis' debt and slide his way into the artistic triumvirate at the Golden Peacock Theater. Now he was a legitimate businessman, but he was a bastard so he would always be a little illegitimate.
It was a strange habit for one who had literally been starving on the street at one point to be so unaware of his stomach, but he had been through a lot and he didn't know what normal was supposed to look like. He had never been normal. While he would be quick to say that like a boast, he was quietly facilitating a few normal things in his life, then hiding them from the rest of the world because he never knew when enemies would come knocking.
The place was fine, though his new coworkers would likely clutch their proverbial pearls. The place had seen better days certainly, but it was an old family business. The inn was a lot for a widow to run, and while she was still young enough to remarry, and pretty besides, she was determined to go it alone, to keep her family's dream alive for the next generation. The stew didn't have rat in it or cat, and the place was clean. She had pride of ownership, just not enough hands or hours in the day to keep it to its old standards. He did like to visit places like this whenever he could, offering his custom even though he couldn't snap his fingers and make her life better.
"Long time no see, Aurin," she said, setting a tankard in front of him without him having to ask.
"It took me this long for my heart to recover when you turned me down flat, Ri." He brought his hand to his chest in a gesture Arry the Actor might have made, then took a gulp. They shared a smile. "Just got hungry and was in your neighborhood. Glad to see the old place is still going."
"You know me, stubborn as a mule—but with good taste in men." She smirked and he let her take the piss.
"I don't know how you can even say that with a straight face when you haven't even tasted me, though."
She laughed a real laugh then. "You're incorrigible. Stew all right?"
"Whatever's easy," he assured her. "I know it's good, but my stomach's too demanding to be picky at the moment."
"Mists, but that's a silver tongue." She rolled her eyes, nodded, and headed back to the kitchen.
Aurin smiled and took another gulp of lager while looking about. He had taken the seat around the corner of the bar so he could keep his eyes on the entrance. Old habits died hard, but they kept him from dying. His mission for the nonce was to finish his drink before the food came out so he could enjoy a little swim in his head before the food settled him down.
