These are the Nights

[Rickter]

These are the Nights

Ash 5th, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

He honestly questioned it wise to actually come out tonight or not, given that Rickter had been spent on a lot of many things lately. Planning and preparation were something he both revered, yet also regrettably despised when it came to his long-worn patience.

But the life throughout the bar after dark had reminded the wolf of a lifestyle he'd long forgotten, mainly as those within the fighter's ring sparred against one another. Bets were on the little guy tonight, but the best blessing of nostalgia was always the smells. Food simmered deliciously with fresh mountain herbs in the kitchens, and alcohol flowed fresh from the taps tonight as the lobby was filled with patrons.

Garbed in only his fur-padded vest and leather trousers, the wolf sat at the table between the bar and the hearth. Though he sat closer to the bar than the fire, seeing as he felt warm enough as is. Accompanying him were the Barnell brothers, Dominik and Connor, as they and Patrick invited him out for a night with friends. Rickter honestly suspected Telion had put them up to it, since the interesting little visit with Lyra the other day. The wolf really wanted to figure out how to undo whatever she'd marked him with, nonetheless, he hadn't seen her use these powers in the time he had known her.

Regardless, he'd given it the appropriate time to consider discussing the situation with the other two, which had been when Patrick required a brief break to the restroom. "I see, I understand your concern with that." Dominik nodded thoughtfully as the sturdy warrior took a brief swig of his ale.

"I can't fully comprehend her powers yet, but rest assured, I'll find a way to keep him safe regardless." He expressed with a stout expression before he'd looked down at his own drink. It was hard to think of anything else but the obstacles still set before him, only now, Rickter had more time to just think on things while he observed the world.

"So, does that mean he's her slave for now? Poor guy, he always picks the complicated ones." Connor remarked with a brief chuff, though Rickter could smell the worry in the younger sibling's aura.

"He's a grown man, he'll deal with the consequences as they come." Dominik reassured Connor with a bout of confidence.

"Though hopefully not alone." The wolf remarked with a hint of a smile on his lips, his eyes finally wandered from the mug toward the public restroom, while the container went tilted by his hand to allow him to sip more of his ale. Within the ring just beyond the lobby, a loud thud crashed onto the mat covering the floor. Cheers and laughter filled the spectators, as the little brawler somehow managed to throw his larger opponent down... with his thighs.

Patrick seemed to be taking a while in the restroom compared to other trips. The wolf couldn't help but begin to wonder...

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

[Euripides]

Is there ever a place you should find where there isn’t a bard?

You could find them in places most unusual, even, strumming their tunes. This place was no different, though the bard that had shown face was. That she should be here, of all places, was something in itself. Euripides was not the typical bard to frequent this locale, but that changed nothing in that she was here. The rasp of breath that would have filled her ears was replaced instead with the swell of the crowd’s cheers and the smack of fist on flesh as she watched the fighters. Not yet turning the violence into song, she sat and watched with a sort of restless energy that matched that of the crowd’s. An echo of patrons standing, their own fists raised in imitation while the bard remained still.

Euripides crossed one leg over the other, gaze sliding over the crowd before she’d decided that he wasn’t here. The ‘he’ in question? A familiar face that she wanted not to see, but felt the urge to do so. A feeling that spread through to her very bones that she’d found to be nothing short of nightmarish. A flick of her hair over her shoulder, she grabbed her mug of ale and moved away from the crowd. To be swallowed up by them was to lose sense — but then, she rarely had that on most days.

Sense would have been to avoid this draw she’d felt for as long as she could. To not be here. To not wander out into that lobby where her nerves were set alight. The bard hadn’t spotted him yet. But she knew he was there and she loathed every second of it. The brew of a headache chased away with the tip of the remnants of her cup into her mouth. Swallowed quickly, though the cup remained clutched in her hand lest her fingers find her instrument and do something senseless with it.

But, of course, this would not be an evening for Euripides if there wasn’t some measure of trouble. Her shoulder collided with one individual in passing, that domino’d all the way to someone else by the restrooms. Someone she cared not about, but the growing outburst of discontent with a lack of apology and the apathy displayed by the bard was enough to garner attention. One fight in the ring, and another surely to begin just outside.

[Rickter]

These are the Nights

Ash 5th, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

It had honestly been out of nowhere to begin with, and a damn good exit strategy too, were it not for the poor execution on the lady's behalf. The mirage cloak that veiled her dispersed when the bard walked into her coincidently, revealing a waitress with blonde frazzled hair with a sudden grudge against the girl.

"Welp, this just blew my cover." Patrick murmured to himself once he'd exited the restroom area, keen to look away from the scene as his gaze shifted over toward his brothers. As if the standoff between the waitress and the bard wasn't going to garner attention, Rickter surely wasn't one of the few to notice the rising aggression between the two ladies.

But he also wasn't ignorant of the pheromones Patrick gave off just now either. With a grumble, he rolled his eyes upward before shifting into a turn. In a smooth motion, he left his mug resting on the table while he rose to a stand. "I'll be back..." Of all the times the wolf needed to intervene on something, it had to be when he knew the person in question centered in the argument. Just as hands likely seemed thrown over insult without apology, the wolf marched steadily with candor toward the pair in passing Patrick.

"Hey pal?" The Atinoran quipped with a slight raise in his brows, as he clearly noticed the lack of amusement in Rickter's expression.

"We'll talk after." He flatly remarked in turn.

"Sounds great, next round's on me." Patrick agreed wittingly as he continued to casually meander his way back to the table.

When Rickter reached the two he quickly inserted himself just near the space in between them. When he'd managed to attain their attention, he gave Euri a suspective glance before his focus turned to the angered waitress. "My apologies for my friend's candor, here," and with just a dip into his pocket he was able to pull out a few banknotes and a cigarette, "why not finish your break with a smoke?" Not that she really needed it, but it seemed to entice the lady all the same.

Except with a mighty sneer to Euripides, the barmaid finally accepted the 'apology', and left the wolf alone to sojourn with the bard. "That always how you make friends?" He remarked in a rather jovial tone, admittedly curious if his hunch on her being here meant something. He had after all discovered peculiar reactions after meeting with the others from that night, and had indeed pondered when the time would come for their paths to cross.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"