Local, Regular, Alcoholic... who knows?
Isolde sat at a table for two in a tavern that she frequented, sipping a cider in a water glass. She was well known in this bar as its local prostitute. She wore her usual clothes for going out to taverns and bars. The dress she wore was above her knees, black, and patterns of great dragonic, snake-like, beasts were sewen onto the fabric. A slit on both sides of the dress that wasn't more than an inch in length. A silver Broad chain belt was around her waist, her coin pouch securely tied to it, and a black cloak was clipped around her neck.
She was in her Zeon form, the form she prefered to be in, her Beast and Lycan forms were better suited for her assassinations. The only weapons she had on her person tonight was a single assassin's dagger strapped to her left thigh, concealed by the cloak, that would definitely be revealed of it blew back, and a single throwing knife stashed in her black boot. Two weapons short than what she usually had on her person. However, tonight, she doubted she'd need any weapons at all.
She waved the barkeep over to her table, giving the man a flirtious smile. "Hey, darling, another one of these, please! And please do make it cold! Oh, and put it in the same glass as this one!" She raised her hand with the near empty glass of cider.
She was more chatty as usual, as it was the norm for her when she was drinking. She breifly wondered if she was an alcoholic, but she only drank every... most nights. She drank most nights... if there was nothing to do. Which sounds rather depressing, once she really thought about it. She drunk the rest of her drink before the next one was placed on her table, hopefully cold. She prefered her drinks cold, most of the time. She rummaged through her money pouch for the amount of copper coins the cider was, and dropped it into the barkeep hand, along with a tip, for the cold drink.
30 Ash 122
She was in her Zeon form, the form she prefered to be in, her Beast and Lycan forms were better suited for her assassinations. The only weapons she had on her person tonight was a single assassin's dagger strapped to her left thigh, concealed by the cloak, that would definitely be revealed of it blew back, and a single throwing knife stashed in her black boot. Two weapons short than what she usually had on her person. However, tonight, she doubted she'd need any weapons at all.
She waved the barkeep over to her table, giving the man a flirtious smile. "Hey, darling, another one of these, please! And please do make it cold! Oh, and put it in the same glass as this one!" She raised her hand with the near empty glass of cider.
She was more chatty as usual, as it was the norm for her when she was drinking. She breifly wondered if she was an alcoholic, but she only drank every... most nights. She drank most nights... if there was nothing to do. Which sounds rather depressing, once she really thought about it. She drunk the rest of her drink before the next one was placed on her table, hopefully cold. She prefered her drinks cold, most of the time. She rummaged through her money pouch for the amount of copper coins the cider was, and dropped it into the barkeep hand, along with a tip, for the cold drink.
"Common"
"Sknskrit"