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Post by libertalianarrator on Jul 9, 2019 18:20:37 GMT -8
LibertaliaBabette's is located just off the main street of Libertalia's bustling city. Nestled between buildings, a large, hand painted sign stretches up and down the middle of of the building, sideways, that simply reads Babette's. The building itself is about three stories, with dark wooden support beams intersecting the white plaster exterior, and each floor with four latticed windows looking down into the street. Though the outside is unassuming, the true nature of this building is only revealed when one steps inside. when one moves through the front door, they would be presented with a reception desk and a very large man, obviously a bouncer. Behind the curtains on either side, however, is a lavishly decorated parlour, lit by the dim light of candles and enchanted lamps with their panes painted a light red. A bar small bar sits at the back, opposite a stage with a large pole going from stage to ceiling. Couches, lounges and large pillows litter the main room, perfect for someone to sit back and relax, perhaps with a shisha or hooka to relax the nerves, or maybe some complimentary pipe-weed or a narcotic of choice? There are no judgements at Babette's. However, this is no lounge or drug den. No, the people don't come here for the comfy atmosphere or wonderful cocktails. They come for the scantily clad men and ladies that inhabit these lounges and couches, each one available at a price, and each one as beautiful and exotic as the last. Each one has an assigned room, all decorated to the inhabitant's specifications, and each catering for a different interest. Babette's Bordello is owned by the Admiralty, there's no secret about that, with the profits going to city projects, but its operated and managed by Madame Babette Singh, a beautiful elvish lady, with dark skin, striking pale blue eyes, and beautifully maintained black hair, often seen hosting and entertaining guests in her lavish outfits and beautiful jewellery. She was once touted as the city's premier lady-of-the-night, and though retired at the age of two hundred (though not looking a day over thirty), there are a few she will entertain privately for an absurdly large price. Even though she may look fancy and delicate, she is an expert with a rapier, and will protect her employees with her life, and is often likely to win. Some say the beefy bouncers are just for show, and that Babette lays down the law, but nobody is willing to test that theory. Looking to let off some steam? Spend some of your new found Libertalian wealth? Or just lonely? Come down to Babette's and let her beautiful ladies and men take care of you.
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Desdemona McHerne
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: Late 30s
Physical Description: Desdemona looks to be a slim figure with a sense of thension about her. The snake-like tendrils replace hair atop her head. Cloud-white eyes bearing no pupils adorn her battle-scarred face. She reaches 185cm/6’ in height due to her tendrils being pointed towards the sky most of the time. Ashen skin tone gradiates into a darker blue towards bottom part of her body. Her movement may seem unnaturally smooth and silent to most. Her voice is usually melodically appealing however, if she raises it beyond normal it will sound as if she damaged her throat.
Clothes and Equipment: ———————————-
Desdemona wears a black coat adorned with golden, eel-like ornaments on shoulders and emerald-green stripes running down her usually rolled sleeves. A scarf of same green is tied on her waist, two black leather belts constricting her coat and scarf. A single elongated rapier weighs on her belt, made customer to both cut and pierce. Knee-high boots locate themselves beneath pants striped with black and white.
Allegiances: The Floating Circus and The Crimson Maggie
Registered: Jul 13, 2019 13:52:31 GMT -8
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Post by Desdemona McHerne on Aug 7, 2019 8:21:10 GMT -8
Entering the Babbete’s with O’Malley, Desdemona’s lips relaxed in a pleasant smile of comfort. She followed O’Malley, and decided to speak of something important first before they started a food night. “You know, I actually had an interesting encounter in the way back this time. I was hunting in the waters of Tawakoshi, and couple of ours into the regular drinking and music after our successful hunt, this ship, without any bloody sails, approaches us with this girl as it’s captain. And, you know, the usual routine of insults and threats followed like always, I just don’t get how dense can all of them be not to understand that I help them with killing those things. I truly don’t think you are going to have much luck dealing with those nations. Even you don’t consider yourself a pirate anymore, they do and think less of you for that. But enough business for today, you think we could invite Singh in here?”, she asked with a playful smile on her face. She needed a good night after a long hunt, provided she usually had her own ways of spending it, she was after all a weird person, but this time, the request seemed quite fitting.
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Captain "Johnnie" O'Malley
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 36
Physical Description: Captain O'Malley has a fairly muscular physique from years of rigging and sailing, but still maintains a feminine beauty. She sports high cheek bones, full lips, and a perfect jawline, topped with somewhat messy brown hair, more often than not pulled into a pony-tail behind her head.
So she's really quite attractive, if you dig scars and tattoos of course. Over her right eye and nose are four scars that go from just above her eyebrow to a little under her cheek bone, though that doesn't take from her stunning green eyes.
Her scars continue all around her body, from a slash here and there, to one or two puckers along her shoulder and legs from errant arrows. Though battle worn, she continues the good fight.
Her body is also heavily tattooed, the most visible being a heart just between her eye and ear, along the cheek bone, a decorative piece not unlike a choker around her neck with four points that point outwards, and a tattooed necklace with a heart shaped pendant just above her cleavage.
Over the rest of her body are a myriad of other tattoos, though hidden while wearing long sleeves and clothes.
Clothes and Equipment: Captain O'Malley usually wears a green bandanna over her brown hair that matches her father's green and leather coat which she wears with pride, regardless of the holes and marks in the leather. Under the coat she wears a high collared cloth shirt with a long draw string which she leaves partly open, revealing the locket tattoo and cleavage beneath.
Her pants are soft to the touch and easy to run around in, and a matching green to her shirt and bandanna. Her boots and gloves are a matching pair of light brown, with the boots sporting steel caps, and her gloves having steel studs along the knuckles.
Finally, she wears a fancy belt, and sometimes an eyepatch over her left eye, especially when combat is a possibility.
Allegiances: Libertalia
Registered: Jul 9, 2019 18:50:09 GMT -8
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Post by Captain "Johnnie" O'Malley on Aug 14, 2019 1:53:31 GMT -8
O'Malley enters shortly behind Desdamona, followed by Fontaine, but Iron Bill remains outside. He tended to intimidate the building's occupants, and where that may be useful elsewhere, it isn't for Babette's. The captain takes off her coat and rolls her neck slightly before handing it to the reception clerk. Usually coats are kept out on a visible rack, but the VIPs get different treatment of course.
"Eh, Tawakoshins," Johnnie says as she takes the bandana from her head and runs a hand through her dark blonde hair. "There's more sense in a shipwrecked barnacle chewer than there is in some of their heads. A ship with no sails though? There's something intriguing. Pity I'm no thief anymore." But those who don't sail her flags but still love coin? Well…
"Best avoid 'em for a spell," O'Malley says as she walks up to one of the workers, a handsome, olive skinned human man with a rugged, stubbly beard and runs a finger under his chin. He seems more than happy to see her. "Not until they realise their overzealous patriotism won't get them anywhere. Not when there's money to be made for both of us."
As if on cue, the beautiful, older Lady Singh enters the main room, decorated in fine jewellery and fine silks that just barely cover her form. "Ah, my captains," she says in a low, sultry tone. "I could feel my ears burning." She gives a deep bow to the trio, her lush dark hair staying in place perfectly even after she stands back up. The elf smiles warmly as she gestures to the room and it's beautiful occupants, from all creeds, races, and genders. "We are at your service."
O'Malley looks away from the man and towards the other assorted courtesans, scanning the crowd. Fontaine, meanwhile, seems to be having a quiet chat with a tough, yet gorgeous, orcish woman.
"Well, Des? This one's on me."
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Desdemona McHerne
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: Late 30s
Physical Description: Desdemona looks to be a slim figure with a sense of thension about her. The snake-like tendrils replace hair atop her head. Cloud-white eyes bearing no pupils adorn her battle-scarred face. She reaches 185cm/6’ in height due to her tendrils being pointed towards the sky most of the time. Ashen skin tone gradiates into a darker blue towards bottom part of her body. Her movement may seem unnaturally smooth and silent to most. Her voice is usually melodically appealing however, if she raises it beyond normal it will sound as if she damaged her throat.
Clothes and Equipment: ———————————-
Desdemona wears a black coat adorned with golden, eel-like ornaments on shoulders and emerald-green stripes running down her usually rolled sleeves. A scarf of same green is tied on her waist, two black leather belts constricting her coat and scarf. A single elongated rapier weighs on her belt, made customer to both cut and pierce. Knee-high boots locate themselves beneath pants striped with black and white.
Allegiances: The Floating Circus and The Crimson Maggie
Registered: Jul 13, 2019 13:52:31 GMT -8
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Post by Desdemona McHerne on Aug 20, 2019 4:30:42 GMT -8
“If this one is on you... shall we ?”, Desdemona says with a pleased smirk on her face , as she approaches Lady Singh. She unbuttons the top part of her coat, revealing a light shirt beneath it. The tendrils atop her head start to slowly move around, almost like hair floating in water. “Would you join us O’Malley, wouldn’t want to miss on this, if you are paying for it.”, Desdemona slowly steps into the chamber closing curtains behind her, the splendid odor of Babbete’s making her even further relaxed, her eyelids half-closed. The warm and dim-lit tones of decor make her seem almost non-threatening, and very pleasing to the eye, her blue-green skin comfortably contrasting it.
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Captain "Johnnie" O'Malley
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 36
Physical Description: Captain O'Malley has a fairly muscular physique from years of rigging and sailing, but still maintains a feminine beauty. She sports high cheek bones, full lips, and a perfect jawline, topped with somewhat messy brown hair, more often than not pulled into a pony-tail behind her head.
So she's really quite attractive, if you dig scars and tattoos of course. Over her right eye and nose are four scars that go from just above her eyebrow to a little under her cheek bone, though that doesn't take from her stunning green eyes.
Her scars continue all around her body, from a slash here and there, to one or two puckers along her shoulder and legs from errant arrows. Though battle worn, she continues the good fight.
Her body is also heavily tattooed, the most visible being a heart just between her eye and ear, along the cheek bone, a decorative piece not unlike a choker around her neck with four points that point outwards, and a tattooed necklace with a heart shaped pendant just above her cleavage.
Over the rest of her body are a myriad of other tattoos, though hidden while wearing long sleeves and clothes.
Clothes and Equipment: Captain O'Malley usually wears a green bandanna over her brown hair that matches her father's green and leather coat which she wears with pride, regardless of the holes and marks in the leather. Under the coat she wears a high collared cloth shirt with a long draw string which she leaves partly open, revealing the locket tattoo and cleavage beneath.
Her pants are soft to the touch and easy to run around in, and a matching green to her shirt and bandanna. Her boots and gloves are a matching pair of light brown, with the boots sporting steel caps, and her gloves having steel studs along the knuckles.
Finally, she wears a fancy belt, and sometimes an eyepatch over her left eye, especially when combat is a possibility.
Allegiances: Libertalia
Registered: Jul 9, 2019 18:50:09 GMT -8
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Post by Captain "Johnnie" O'Malley on Aug 28, 2019 6:51:55 GMT -8
The fine lady Singh takes Des' hand gingerly with a smile. "It would be my pleasure, Captain." Though retired from the trade, there is an exclusive list of those who she still catered to. The rich, the powerful, usually those on the Admiralty or some of the more well known captains that call Libertalia home. Desdamona had earned her place on that list many years ago.
Her hand is soft to the touch as it curls around Des', leading her into her private den. Not many knew what lay beyond those curtains, but most say it's the best place in Libertalia.
Johnnie, however, gestures towards Fontaine and her chosen orcish girl, then wraps an arm around the waist of the handsome mane she had been examining. "No, thank you, Des'," she says in her almost sing-song accent. "I've got what I need with these three. You have a good night."
With that, she takes the man's hand and leads him, the beautiful orc woman, and the gorgeous Fontaine towards the stairs and, undoubtedly, towards the VIP floor.
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227 
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
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Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Sept 18, 2019 13:01:21 GMT -8
Ah. Libertalia was it? Now this was a place Keph could enjoy living in. It was all nicely compacted within an island, so no need to travel endless empty plains like in the Tiller Lands but it also lacked that stressful weight Isra had, the one one would get from knowing their every move was being watched by the city guard and that any actions of interest could be reported to its intimidating Empress which watched her people from high above.
The first day had been great, he had gone about drinking and making friends with several of the locals, he had won big in a game of dice (that he did not know the rules to), but afterwards, the players had recommended that he visit Babette’s establishment. They hadn’t told him what the establishment was and he hadn’t bothered to ask, all he knew was that he would get a relaxing evening for a fair price and a relaxing evening he was needing - however listening to this suggestion would turn out to be a huge mistake.
Keph was usually quite inattentive, but even he would’ve quite quickly been able to tell the purpose of Babette’s if not for the excessive drinking binge he had undergone throughout the day.
Even though the specific purpose of the establishment had gone ignored, he still stayed, captivated by the seductive dances the scantily clad women displayed - how was a human able to bend in such ways? No doubt Babette’s workers must’ve quickly discerned his preferences from the dancers he stared at, as within the hour he was surrounded by a group of mature women. The young man was utterly entranced, and soon he was shown quite the night - not that he’d remember most of it.
He woke up the next morning, in a ditch and with a mighty headache. Why did he do this to himself? He was never going to drink again! At least he was still alive, it was a miracle no one had killed him while he slumbered on the streets. He looked around him, his dazed mind wondering where all the women had gone t- wait… where was his money pouch? It was only then, as his mind re-examined its memories that he realized he had been to a brothel. He began counting the amount of women he had pulled along with him, fingers raising as he did, increasingly dreading his poor financial choice - no wonder all his money was gone.
How the hell was he going to get off this island now?
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Post by libertalianarrator on Sept 19, 2019 16:01:57 GMT -8
The sounds of a Libertalian morning fill the air on the streets outside Babette's, where Keph has bizarrely chosen to spend the night. Parrots squawked in their roosts, merchants had begun bellowing at the markets by the port, and the distant sound of a sea shanty rings true from the pub as the patrons begin to stir.
Then there's a whistle, a neat little tune, followed by the door of Babette's closing. A light blue skinned Av with almost black hair steps out, an ocean traveller, as evidenced by his horns being swept back, and the general mischievous aura around him. One of Keph's drinking buddies perhaps? He wears a loose white shirt, only buttoned up part of the way, and matching dark green pants that stop just half way down his bowed shins. Not unlike quite a few people on Libertalia, he walks barefooted, revealing the strange structure of an Av's foot, with its two toes and a smaller one on the outside of each foot.
Either way, it's not long before he didn't Keph's ditch, and he promptly squats down beside it, stroking his almost musketeer goatee, completed with beads at the end of his beard's points.
"You had a good night, didn't ya, Kephy boy?" He asks with a wide grin, leaning on his bowed knees. "Don't think I didn't see ya cozying up to that orc in there. Hey, I'm not going to judge, she's gorgeous if you like muscles."
He pulls a water skin from his extravagant belt and hands it down to Keph. "Hangover cure. Up ya get, big man."
Ah yes, the universal hangover cure of Libertalia.
Rum.
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
_________________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Sept 22, 2019 17:06:39 GMT -8
Keph’s eyes squint as a shadowy figure stepped in front of that giant ball of fire in the sky.
"You had a good night, didn't ya, Kephy boy?"
As his eyes adjusted, Keph grinned, it was - wait… hm… uh. His grin promptly vanished as he found trouble putting a face to the name… or really that face to anything. Who the hell was he?
The young man dragged himself out of the ditch, his bum resting on the side of the road as the Av made brief mention of one of last night’s escapades. He tried his hardest to recall if there had been an orc, but the harder he tried, the more his (missing) wallet ached.
Keph didn’t think twice when offered a “cure” to his mallady, snatching the waterskin out of his hand without a word and taking a swig, only to immediately spit it into the ditch he was just in. The waterskin was thrown at the man, spilling rum over loose shirt. No alcohol would poison the temple that was his body, at least for the next month - he’ll make sure of that!
He continues to spit, trying to get that spicy flavour out of his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand reached for the bottle of ink that always found itself hanging on the exterior of his satchel… but wait, it wasn’t there. Keph started frantically patting himself down, where was it?!
...shuffle…
...what was that in his boot? A quick inspection revealed ta bottle of ink, how in the world did it get there? He gave a sigh of relief before holding it tightly, such ink wasn’t easy to make, and the bottle was of fine craftsmanship.
The quill was dabbed in the ink and then brought up in space between Keph and the Av, before he started to write. The ink trailed behind in the air, before solidifying and hovering in place.
“Who the hel is he?”
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Post by libertalianarrator on Oct 6, 2019 18:29:17 GMT -8
“Oi!” the Av’ exclaims as the rum is spit out, then spilled on him. He managed to the cork back in before spilling any more. “That’s my good stuff! That’s just rude, an’ that’s comin’ from a sailor!” He slips the water skin back into a pouch on his belt and goes back to leaning over Keph.
He watches grins as the ink fills the air with words, even if his spelling is off. Not that the sailor cared, he knew plenty of illiterate people. He reaches out and turns the words towards himself and reads it, then chuckles. “Who’s who?” he asks, looking around, then opens his arms wide. “I don’ see anyone, Kephy lad, so I’m goin’ to assume ye mean me. D’ye really no’ remember?” he stands up tall… very tall at that, and offers his hand into the ditch to pull Keph out.
“Artu’Ras, or Arthur for short,” he says, smiling down at Keph. “Don’t remember drinkin’ wit’ me an’ my crew? Perhaps Douglas’ ale is a wee bit too strong fer ya.” He chuckles again. “He always gets the new comers wi’ that one. If ye wanna stick around, my boy, y’ gotta be able to handle yer liquor, or not drink at all. There’s no middle ground once y’ get started here.”
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
_________________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Oct 15, 2019 14:09:30 GMT -8
Keph let out a long whine, dropping his back onto the road. He badly wanted to roll back into the ditch and be left there. As the young man put a bit of distance between him and the floating ink, the words were reeled towards them, as if they were attached by a string to their author.
With the quill still in hand, he swipes its spines along the words, the ink sinking into and blackening it before slipping down towards and pooling at its tip.
"Keph does not remember." simply said the next message he put up.
Rolling onto his chest, he pushed himself off the ground, groaning in pain. He stared at Arthur, his eyes asking the Av' 'what now?'
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Post by libertalianarrator on Oct 17, 2019 2:51:33 GMT -8
The Av' smirks as he reads the words forming before him. "Aye that much is obvious," he says with a toothy, surprisingly white grin. He stands and dusts off his pants before offering his lanky hand down to Keph. "Alright lad, lets get you outta the ditch and back into more pleasant company."
One pulled out, the tall Av' looks him over and shakes his head. "Alright, first things first, m' boy. Ye smell fairly… awful. Like drink, whores, tobacco, and a hint of vomit. I'm surprised wi' all that money y' were throwin' about, y' didn't pay fer a bath. No matter, I'll let y' use mine." He says as he hooks a thumb. "Come along, Kephy. We've got a busy day ahead o' us, and you need some breakfast t' kill that hangover."
Busy day? "The boss doesn't much care about appearances at first, but first impressions are everythin', y'understand? An' my boss isn't one y' make a bad first impression with." He turns and walks backwards, deftly avoiding potholes and loose cobbles. His dexterity must be impressive. "Even if Babette's were singin' yer praises. Apparently yer an impressive specimen, me lad. Reminds me o' me when I first got here."
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
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Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Oct 29, 2019 20:59:34 GMT -8
Keph took Arthur’s hand, relying solely on him to hoist him onto his feet, the young man lacking any energy to get himself onto his feet.
Once on his own two fe- oh who was he kidding? He was wobbling all over the place, he wasn’t going to be standing on his own two nothin’. He leaned on Arthur’s arm, his hand gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, the wind at risk of taking him.
A bath would be nice, but now that his mind was clearing up in the slightest of ways, he was starting to notice aches on his body - aches not produced by the massive hangover. Oh, Hel, a bath was going to be nice - but awfully painful.
He followed the Av, as best as a man in as much pain as he could.
The mention of vomit alone was enough to send his stomach churning, forcing the pair to stop to let Keph lean over. He dry heaved, he dry heaved a lot, nothing came out, his stomach too empty to vomit anything at all.
Nod, nod, nod. First impressions. Yes, first impressions were always important. Then he did that twirly stuff, rotating on the tips and soles of his feet, avoiding the - ack! Usually he’d easily keep up, quite deft himself, but not in this state.
As soon as the rocky patch in the road was done with, Keph would agrily (yet weakly) bat at Arthur’s arm. Not just for the unnecessary movement that almost sent him spiralling into the ground, but his comment on his privates. Even a rogue like he had enough manners to not be spouting such things in public.
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Post by libertalianarrator on Oct 29, 2019 22:06:55 GMT -8
The Av' chuckles lightly as he's leaned on, but helps Keph find his balance soon enough, even if he had all the balance of a seesaw. Once he was sure Keph could walk, he sets off again.
"I can tell ya now, Kephy, the city is much nicer when y' aren't hung over. The sun is shining, the parrots are chatting, and the sea is as blue as a finely cut sapphire. I'll show y'around once you've recovered." To say that Arthur loved Libertalia would be an understatement. He's one of the few Av'rae who actually decided to stay in one place for any length of time. The generally nomadic folk tend to move on after a month or two, at most.
He pauses for a moment as Keph tries to vomit up a lung, amused by the spectacle. "Hope the wife doesn't mind y' comin' home wi' me in that state," he says with a smirk. Didn't they just come from a brothel?
Off they go again, but Arthur slows down, noticing Keph having trouble with the cobblestone road. "You'll find your land legs soon enough, laddie. It's your sea legs I worry about." The slap to his arm elicits a laugh, however, perhaps not as much as Keph's hung over, pouty face, though. "Calm down now," he says. "Y'dont want t' go shovin' folk, not when a gust o' wind might send ya arse over tits." He reaches over and flicks Keph's shoulder. "Like so. Boink."
There's another laugh before Arthur gestures forward. "C'mon, we're nearly home, lad. Just ahead, y' can see it plain as day."
Following Arthur's point, Keph could likely see a fairly talk building, perhaps four stories, nestled among the other buildings, but it didn't seem like a house. Like many of the newer buildings in the city, they were actually apartments, this one seemed to have four, but which one is Arthur's? "Hope y' don't mind stairs, lad. There's a few t' climb here."
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
_________________________________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Oct 30, 2019 19:09:31 GMT -8
Perhaps he would enjoy Libertalia, but not like this. No doubt he’d also enjoy Arthur prattle on, but right now all that talking was only putting him in more pain. The dynamics of his relationship with his wife weren’t the most interesting thing to him, but he wasn’t really listening, as another headache would rock his head.
The little flick was, surprisingly enough, actually enough to send him ‘arse over tits’, the cold ground proved inviting - his head felt as if it might melt.
With his quill, the lad wrote up a new message. “He won’t make it! Leave Keph behind!” Overdramatic? Very. However, it was pretty impressive that he was even able to write straight, even more so when his eyes were focused on the ground.
It looked as if Arthur might have to carry him.
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Post by libertalianarrator on Oct 31, 2019 3:30:32 GMT -8
The Av' stops, realising he's no longer being followed, and looks back to Keph, followed by a small sigh. "I'm no' gonna leave you behind," he says, standing over Keph with a disappointed look on his face. "You're lucky you're half decent sober and drunk, Kephy boy, but hung over? You're a pansy."
The Av' dips down and grabs Keph before lifting him up, and slinging him over a shoulder. "But if her mates can't walk, y' carry them. Remember that, Keph. Us Libertalians look after each other, if you're not willing t' lend a hand to a friend, you're not gonna be welcome." The Av' reaches up and pats Keph on the leg. "But we'll get ya stronger when it comes t' the booze, don't you worry."
And so they continue up into the streets of Libertalia, ever closer to the Av's home.
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