"Anyone want a drink?" Slipping around the bar, Rayvinn offered the other elf a smile as she stood on tiptoes to reach a higher shelf where the Patron was. She doubted it was the bottle she'd left there during her last visit but that was of no consequence. Look who developed some civilized manners while she was away...a small tumbler was pulled from the rack and filled a quarter way with the tequila.
As the other elf - elfess - approached, his eyes trailed her subtly. Shadow was not the type to stare (though it was perhaps hard not to), but when she reached the bar itself he smiled. "Tequila is it? Strange drink for an elf." He raised his scotch glass to her, almost a self-mockery of his own choice of beverage.
A perfectly groomed brow arched at the comment and she pointed at his suit. "Armani is it? (It might not be!) Strange clothing for an elf." Raising her glass of tequila in return salute, she grinned a bit impishly before tilting her head back to drain the glass. it was replaced upon the bar and as she refilled, a side glance was cast over at him. "I'm not likely a typical elf..."
"Armani, indeed. Strange for an elf, but not in Rhy'din, no? I think Rhy'din has no typical elves, for that matter." As he spoke to her, he noted certain details, as if dimly remembered, his eyes studying her while she tossed back that shot. But who knew what an old elf 'remembered'? "Have we met, my lady?"
"Not strange for Rhy'Din at all, no." A manicured fingertip traced along the rim of the glass and she shrugged lightly. "If I am that easily forgotten, then perhaps I should say that we have not met." In all fairness to the elf, she had not given her name during their last brief encounter. She wasn't feeling the dullness of being fair, however, and opted for entertainment in whatever form it might take even if that meant teasing the poor elf.
"If I'd forgotten you, I wouldn't be asking, would I? I seem to recall officiating some duels, and you were on the caller's couch, then gone." A small sip, his eyes not leaving her aside from to blink now and then.
"Perhaps. I tend to come and go with the wind..." She fluttered fingers in demonstration of such flightiness. A ghost of a grin was offered over the rim of her glass before she took a sip and then replaced it upon the bar.
"Ah, the wind. While I, for the moment, come and go with the tides. Tell me then, do you have a name, woman of mystery and wind?" An impish smile tugged a side of his mouth.
"Ahh so here we are again, Sir Shadow, where we left off before...with you attempting to find out my name." Yes, she remembered. "I am not so sure that "Woman of Mystery and Wind" is such a terrible title, far more catchy than my own name, of course."
"I see. Sir Shadow? Who told you I was a knight, then, Miss Wind?" He drained the contents of his glass with a subtle clatter of ice against the container's sides, and poured himself another. "And tell me, does that stuff work?" He glanced at the bottle of tequila she'd been pouring from, and back to her.
"No one did, of course. I was merely being polite. I suppose I could have called you Mr. Shadow but that seems so very stuffy and not at all interesting." She glanced to the bottle and then up at him and shrugged. "It works 'about as good as any other means of memory dispeller or distraction, simply a matter of picking your addiction. The flavor is quite a bit better than your typical amber tequila but that is a matter of preference. What would you need it to work for exactly?" Perhaps a forward sort of question but he'd opened that line of communication and she wasn't exactly known for filtering her thoughts.
"Well, I suppose I've found most of our people are not susceptible to the alcohol humans make. But then, they never had scotch, nor tequila, where I came from." Not that it stopped him drinking his own brown liquor, which took on a deep amber shade with the melting of the ice within. "Simply Shadow is good, I'm neither knight nor lord, but your politeness is appreciated. More could stand to be polite in this place, I'd say." He studied Miss Wind with open curiosity.
"My metabolism burns it up quite rapidly but yes, I can become intoxicated if I drink fast enough and continually." It felt strange to have this conversation with someone who actually understood. "Perhaps why I favor tequila." She shrugged a little. "I don't know you well enough to call you by your name, of course, Mr. Shadow. If you insist upon forcing me to allow such dullness to leave my lips, I will comply." The lilt of her voice and the mischief that gleamed in the depths of jade made it obvious she was teasing again. "I wouldn't say that I am polite on a consistent basis. It truly depends upon the company and my mood, of course." She met that studious gaze with furrowed brows. "Do I have something in my hair?"
"Which is why I offered the name I am known by here, Miss Wind. I don't know, do you? For myself I eschew hairstyling products, far too much bother." Though the delivery of the words was dry, one look at his eyes told the lie - he was surely being a mischievous old elf. "Is Shadow a dull name then? I suppose compared to Miss Wind it is."
"No, but Mister is quite a dull, old title if ever there was one. I should think that you'd find Sir to be more appropriate to what you have going on here." Waves a hand to indicate his suit, perfect hair, etc. The dry delivery of that joke had her snorting just a bit as she laughed. It had been so long since she'd actually laughed, holding the weight of the world upon her thin shoulders prevented it most of the time. "That was terribly terrible, you know."
His hair was not perfect! Unless you counted the disheveled look, perfect. Of a morning he typically just ran a wet hand through it and called it good. However, he replied, "The suit... suits my line of work, at least here in the city. I run the Dragon's Gate Orphanage." Titles he had, accolades, but it was his connection to that place which was what he truly took pride in, and it might have showed on his face for a moment. Not pride, exactly, but he was proud of the fact. Still, he was not immune to mirth, and his elven, nearly fae nature caused another smile - and was that some sort of flickering light behind his eyes, like the memory of a thundercloud? Strange eyes, a wizard's eyes. "Not so terrible. It's good to meet another elf, even if she refuses to give me her name." A reserved sort of man, but friendly, he moved closer to her, at least at a range where no voices need be raised.
((Cross-posted here on the RoH forums))
As the other elf - elfess - approached, his eyes trailed her subtly. Shadow was not the type to stare (though it was perhaps hard not to), but when she reached the bar itself he smiled. "Tequila is it? Strange drink for an elf." He raised his scotch glass to her, almost a self-mockery of his own choice of beverage.
A perfectly groomed brow arched at the comment and she pointed at his suit. "Armani is it? (It might not be!) Strange clothing for an elf." Raising her glass of tequila in return salute, she grinned a bit impishly before tilting her head back to drain the glass. it was replaced upon the bar and as she refilled, a side glance was cast over at him. "I'm not likely a typical elf..."
"Armani, indeed. Strange for an elf, but not in Rhy'din, no? I think Rhy'din has no typical elves, for that matter." As he spoke to her, he noted certain details, as if dimly remembered, his eyes studying her while she tossed back that shot. But who knew what an old elf 'remembered'? "Have we met, my lady?"
"Not strange for Rhy'Din at all, no." A manicured fingertip traced along the rim of the glass and she shrugged lightly. "If I am that easily forgotten, then perhaps I should say that we have not met." In all fairness to the elf, she had not given her name during their last brief encounter. She wasn't feeling the dullness of being fair, however, and opted for entertainment in whatever form it might take even if that meant teasing the poor elf.
"If I'd forgotten you, I wouldn't be asking, would I? I seem to recall officiating some duels, and you were on the caller's couch, then gone." A small sip, his eyes not leaving her aside from to blink now and then.
"Perhaps. I tend to come and go with the wind..." She fluttered fingers in demonstration of such flightiness. A ghost of a grin was offered over the rim of her glass before she took a sip and then replaced it upon the bar.
"Ah, the wind. While I, for the moment, come and go with the tides. Tell me then, do you have a name, woman of mystery and wind?" An impish smile tugged a side of his mouth.
"Ahh so here we are again, Sir Shadow, where we left off before...with you attempting to find out my name." Yes, she remembered. "I am not so sure that "Woman of Mystery and Wind" is such a terrible title, far more catchy than my own name, of course."
"I see. Sir Shadow? Who told you I was a knight, then, Miss Wind?" He drained the contents of his glass with a subtle clatter of ice against the container's sides, and poured himself another. "And tell me, does that stuff work?" He glanced at the bottle of tequila she'd been pouring from, and back to her.
"No one did, of course. I was merely being polite. I suppose I could have called you Mr. Shadow but that seems so very stuffy and not at all interesting." She glanced to the bottle and then up at him and shrugged. "It works 'about as good as any other means of memory dispeller or distraction, simply a matter of picking your addiction. The flavor is quite a bit better than your typical amber tequila but that is a matter of preference. What would you need it to work for exactly?" Perhaps a forward sort of question but he'd opened that line of communication and she wasn't exactly known for filtering her thoughts.
"Well, I suppose I've found most of our people are not susceptible to the alcohol humans make. But then, they never had scotch, nor tequila, where I came from." Not that it stopped him drinking his own brown liquor, which took on a deep amber shade with the melting of the ice within. "Simply Shadow is good, I'm neither knight nor lord, but your politeness is appreciated. More could stand to be polite in this place, I'd say." He studied Miss Wind with open curiosity.
"My metabolism burns it up quite rapidly but yes, I can become intoxicated if I drink fast enough and continually." It felt strange to have this conversation with someone who actually understood. "Perhaps why I favor tequila." She shrugged a little. "I don't know you well enough to call you by your name, of course, Mr. Shadow. If you insist upon forcing me to allow such dullness to leave my lips, I will comply." The lilt of her voice and the mischief that gleamed in the depths of jade made it obvious she was teasing again. "I wouldn't say that I am polite on a consistent basis. It truly depends upon the company and my mood, of course." She met that studious gaze with furrowed brows. "Do I have something in my hair?"
"Which is why I offered the name I am known by here, Miss Wind. I don't know, do you? For myself I eschew hairstyling products, far too much bother." Though the delivery of the words was dry, one look at his eyes told the lie - he was surely being a mischievous old elf. "Is Shadow a dull name then? I suppose compared to Miss Wind it is."
"No, but Mister is quite a dull, old title if ever there was one. I should think that you'd find Sir to be more appropriate to what you have going on here." Waves a hand to indicate his suit, perfect hair, etc. The dry delivery of that joke had her snorting just a bit as she laughed. It had been so long since she'd actually laughed, holding the weight of the world upon her thin shoulders prevented it most of the time. "That was terribly terrible, you know."
His hair was not perfect! Unless you counted the disheveled look, perfect. Of a morning he typically just ran a wet hand through it and called it good. However, he replied, "The suit... suits my line of work, at least here in the city. I run the Dragon's Gate Orphanage." Titles he had, accolades, but it was his connection to that place which was what he truly took pride in, and it might have showed on his face for a moment. Not pride, exactly, but he was proud of the fact. Still, he was not immune to mirth, and his elven, nearly fae nature caused another smile - and was that some sort of flickering light behind his eyes, like the memory of a thundercloud? Strange eyes, a wizard's eyes. "Not so terrible. It's good to meet another elf, even if she refuses to give me her name." A reserved sort of man, but friendly, he moved closer to her, at least at a range where no voices need be raised.
((Cross-posted here on the RoH forums))