Love for the Lonely [Open]

OOC: This is my attempt at bringing romance to the bloodthirsty citizens of EH. xD If your initial reaction was, "Ugh, romance," than this isn't for you.

It doesn't matter where your character comes in. Take a look at my profile (Sathis Hlaalu) and decide if your character would be a good match. If so, go ahead and make an entrance and we'll see what happens! If you're unsure, PM me and I'll tell you.

... And, for the record, female characters only. :/

IC:

The market held nothing for him. He had looked it over several times now, wandering back and forth and visiting various stalls, but still he found nothing he needed for the trip. With a sigh, Sathis turned the street corner to return to his room at the local inn.

It was his third night in Marenheim City, and he enjoyed the human presence here. He had not been in a largely populated human city in some time, and it was always refreshing to experience the jovial mood many citizens displayed. It was the sole reason for his choice of lodging; despite his love for peace and quiet, instead of enrolling at the 'Tor'Amei', a lovely little inn maintained by elves and known for its high-class presentation, he took up residence at 'The Portly Port Tavern', which was a loud and bustling pub with an upstairs ammended to it for guests. The lodging was not bad, and the rooms were compfortable, but Sathis seemed to enjoy the one thing most patrons hated about the establishment; the loud human drunks.

Sathis was not one for liquor, with the exception of Flin, which they did not carry. He had his own supply for that lightly-intoxicating drink from his homeland. Instead, he enjoyed sitting in his room to read or write or play his lute while listening to the comedic cacophany below him. Occasionally he would take a bottle of Flin down into the tavern proper, and consider (but ultimately decide against) getting completely drunk and stumbling in with them. It was unwise, in his opinion, but after his three days in the city, and the week-long journey it took to get there, the drunks looked like his best chance for any sort of company.

This night in particular, however, he trudged through the front door just as it began to rain and marched past the bustle up to his room. He was restless and midly upset that this was to be his last night in the comfortable city. A bottle of Flin and a night with the lute might help him unwind.

But, as he sipped the flask and slowly strummed, he felt restless still, so he quickly gave it up. Corking the drink and stowing the instrument, he snatched his heavy cloak, donned his personal effects, and bounded down the steps once more to head outside. With the cloak protecting him from the rain, he set out onto the cobblestone streets toward the nearby waterfront to unravel his tense mind on a walk.

OOC: So should we just hop in if we want?

BiC:

A figure thudded down onto the ground nearby, their landing barely audible through the rain. Leathery, insect-like wings folded up on their back, retreating underneath a thick soaked cloak. Their head turned, briefly flashing two grey eyes before they bowed their head, blocking their face from the rain and from sight. They paused, turning their head suddenly to the sky before quickly moving along the street. Not looking directly ahead however, the figure bumped into the Dark Elf, mumbling a quiet "Sorry" before taking hurrying past.

OOC: It's fine to just jump in. :3

The rain veiled the sound of a creature hitting the earth, and shielded it from Sathis' attention. He was jerked from his thoughts, however, when he bumped shoulders with someone passing by. The quiet apology was met with a brief "Mm," but his tone did not at all match the level of interest.

He turned to get a better look at the being. The first thing he noticed was the strands of hair that spilled over the being's face. The glance was only a second, but he noticed that the hair was the purest of silver. As he looked over the woman after she passed by, he studied her cloak, and the thump that he had ever-so-vaguely heard. The lumps on her back beneath the cloak were consistant with the idea that she had... Wings?

Far to curious to let it be, and with nothing better to do, he casually changed course to follow a few yards behind the woman. He at least wanted to get a better look at her, to try and categorize what she was; he was reasonably certain he had never seen one of her kind before. Wings and silver hair narrowed the selection down considerably. Whatever she was, it was not something that Sathis was very familiar with.

The being took sharp strides through the streets, holding her cloak to her as if worried to might fly off if she relinquished her grip for even a second. On her back, the lumps that were wings rustled uncomfortably, reacting negatively to the wet material of the cloak. Her steps soon slowed though as she arrived at the 'The Portly Port Tavern'.

Reaching into to one of her pouches, she removed a small brown bag, seemingly unaffected by the rain. She withdrew a small, red gem which shined brilliantly in the moonlight...but her hand dropped several inches as if she'd been hit by some unknown realization. Instead of entering the tavern, she slumped down against the door, sighing a sigh that could barely have been heard in the rain.

As he followed the strange woman, he could not help but smile at the irony of her turning to the same place of his lodging. He moved closer, expecting her to step into the tavern, but when she stopped and seemingly collapsed on the door, it triggered a surprised and impulsive reaction. He stepped forward quickly, as if expecting to see that she had been wounded. But when he realized she had simply leaned on the door and slid down, he knew there was nothing he could do now but speak to her.

Awkwardly, he peered at her from beneath his soaked hood, asking, "Are you alright, miss?" His voice had a subtle rasp to it, but was more or less smooth. His skin was much the same color as hers, his eyes colored red where there should be white. Strands of damp black hair hung in front of his face, but they would be difficult to see through the rain. Will little more to say, he watched her silently, awaiting a response.

The woman looked up briefly at the elf before turning her gaze back to the ground. "No money," she grumbled, blowing a wet strand of hair from her eyes, "Least none that I can use here." Dropping the bag at her side, she took a moment to lean over and begin squeezing the water from her hood. "I've slept out in the rain a few times though, so I think I'll survive." That was a lie. She caught pneumonia the last time she tried to stay out in the rain.

Looking up to the door of the tavern, he pursed his lips and nodded to her words. "I see," he said with a sigh. "Well, if you would prefer, I have a room here. You are welcome to take it if you'd like-- I purchased a week of residence, but I doubt that I shall stay that long." He moved over her and gently nudged the door open, saying, "Come inside. You could catch your death in this storm."

Assuming she would get up and follow, he would step into the tavern and move casually past the loud drunks and the lethargic barkeeper toward the stairs to the second floor. Key in hand, he moved up the steps and unlocked the second door on the right, pushing it open. A clean room with a perfectly made bed and an empty dresser lay before them. His bag was leant against the dresser, and his lute was tossed on the bed. His corked, half-empty bottle of Flin was set on the nightstand.

"Take the bed," he said kindly as he stepped into the room, offering to close the door behind her. "The floor suits me fine." He moved over to the bedside and pulled his lute from it, setting it over the top of his bag. Once he was reasonably sure it would not fall off, he began unlacing his bedroll from the side of the bag to set it up for the night.

Karin paused for a second at the door, taking in every detail of the room before taking another step forward. Paranoia was something she'd learned to rely on in the past few weeks as it had saved her life more than once. "Thank you," she said, nodding to the dark elf, "I haven't slept in a real bed for so long that...it feels strange." Pushing back her hood, she shook what water she could from her hair before discarding the rest of the cloak, dropping it with a thud on the floor.

"Sorry," she apologized while carefully removing the rest of her equipment, "I just needed to get that off." With most of her items discarded, she was left staniding in a set of dulled chain mail armor. "Uh, could you help me get this off?" she asked shyly, finding it hard to ask for even more help from this stranger, "Feels like it's become part of my skin now."

As Sathis laid out his bedroll by the door, he absentmindedly noted some of the intersting equpment she discarded. He grabbed his blanket from his bag, and was about to spread it out when she asked for his assistance.

"Of course," he replied, standing from his bedroll. He was a little less sure than that; it seemed out of place, perhaps even inappropriate to help her disrobe anything, even armor. He then considered, though, that the armor may be more difficult to remove because of her wings. Moving over to her, he leaned down to cup his hands beneath the hem of the chainmail, and gradually pull it upwards. He made a point to watch his hands as he lifted the chainmail, and not whatever might lie beneath it.

Karin let out a long sigh as she finally writhed out of the armor. "Oh gods that stuff's uncomfortable!" she exclaimed before straightening out the light white clothes she had been wearing beneath it. Her wings stretched out moments later, fluttering once before folding once again against her back. "Thank you," she said to Sathis with another nod of the head, "Man, it feels good just to stretch and relax for once."