A Wick in the Wind

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Makia Andresil
Posts: 18
Joined: Sun Apr 14, 2019 8:51 pm
Topics: 9
Race: Wick
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plotnotes
Writer: Bigealien18
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Mon Apr 22, 2019 11:52 pm

Spring 21st of Intas 2719
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1800 Hours
19 Degrees, Snowing
Black Dove Tavern

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The snow was falling quickly outside, the flakes all clumped together to form light, but large masses that traveled quickly to the hard, cold ground of Old Rose Harbor. Over on the beach the salty waves were impervious to the chill, but puddles of water and waste that littered the streets caused invisible and dangerous icy paths. Makia, bundled in her coat, scarf and gloves, had a perilous time attempting to navigate to the Black Dove Tavern, and finally made it to the doors with a small crash, bracing herself against the structural beams of the building.

The hearth of the tavern, along with tightly shut windows and doors, created a smoky and warm atmosphere in the fairly crowded tavern. Makia set straight for the bartop, immediately ordering rum. Usually she got it on the rocks, but not on days this cold. The rum would help warm her belly well enough, but even so she began to take off her gloves and other layers. Pulling out a smoke form her coat she lit it quickly, striking the match on the wood of the bartop in one swift and overused motion. She waved out the light before tossing it in a nearby empty cup from a patron before her. She brought it up to her lips, holding it lazily between her pointer and middle fingers of her left hand, and took a drag, long and slow, before blowing the tainted air out again in a similar fashion, before taking a swig from the rum as the barkeep placed it down before her and grabbed up the coins she set on the counter.

Already she was feeling warmer and her coat was no longer necessary. She shed it and adjusted herself so she would sit on top of the coat on the chair so she wouldn't lose it. However the next battle would be remembering it when she left. That had happened many a time, and she had always managed to get back to it before it was snatched by eager hands, or at least quick enough to see the thief and beat the coat out of his hands.

She really began to settle into the bar then. Her stool was an uncomfortable as ever, but it was the smoke and the drink that held her real attention. She slouched in the stool, arms rested and crossed on the counter, her cig dangling. She rested her forehead down on her arms, her eyes peering down at her knees until she closed them, releasing a sigh from the days work. She stayed a moment, relaxing in the pose, until she straightened herself out to take a drink again. The rum was fine, slightly rancid, definitely watered down. But it was cheap, affordable, and tasted fine with her smokes.

The company of the bar was nothing Makia was very fond of. Company in general was always complicated for her. While she was always willing to talk to a Wick, or good looking man or woman, those who fell out of that range took a bit more effort to strike up a conversation. Not that she had anything against the others, just simply had less in common.

She took a quick look around, not at anything or anyone in particular, just a basic survey of her surroundings. It was a crowded bar, she determined it was probably peak time, business closings, work dwindling down. However that was when she noticed a younger kid sitting nearby. He was lanky, average height perhaps, dark skin with sharp features and wild hair. IT wasn't his appearance though that caught her interest, but a sense.

Makia wasn't all too familiar with fields and how they worked. She knew growing up as a Wick and around those who practiced the limited magic Wicks presented, that fields were unique to each person and had something to do with magic and the mona. Again, she wasn't completely sure how it worked and she couldn't read fields very well in general. However, spending her life around the race, she knew how to identify the Wick field sense when she felt it. She had to be relatively close to the person, but when she was she could feel the Wick about them. It was difficult to explain, the feeling, but looking at the boy near her, she knew he was a Wick.

It wasn't very difficult to find a Wick in Old Rose Harbor, even with the place dominated by Humans. Galdori were somewhat rare, but even so the place had a relative balance between the races. Like a melting pot of crime and secrets. And so even seeing this Wick she knew that he was probably not the only other one in the tavern itself. But even so, he was the closest and most easily identifiable.

She was always up for a chat, she was a curious person in general and while she did not have any specific curiosities about him, she was always willing to listen to a life story, as long as it was a good one. He seemed to be alone but she couldn't tell for sure. Hopefully she would not be interrupting anything.

"Hey tekaa" She called, "Betta ta drink in compane, eh?" She raised her glass to him, inviting him over if he wanted.




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