DSOH HUT | SOMETIME FAR TO LATE OR EARLY...
Charity sat perched on the edge of her bar stool, elbows on the scratched hardwood tabletop and arms crossed, her loose platinum locks falling around her face with abandon. They had of course, been pinned back sternly at the start of her evening, but after the show and with a good dab of Crop on her tongue the pianist had pulled all the pins out with a rebellious freedom. Her fine theatre gown, a powder blue corseted piece, pooled around her to hide her feet swinging back and forth at least a foot from the polished hardwood floor.
“Hi, hello, yes good...night? No, morning? Good whatever. I would like the garmon dsoh, with eggs and thick noodles. Oh, and a small service of rice. Ooh, and whatever that is.” The aging Hoxian woman taking her order nodded politely, scratching words on a small chalkboard, before turning and screeching through the small inner window that opened into the kitchen. She spoke sharply in Hoxian, clearly having some choice words with someone inside before turning back to Charity with a grin.
“Just five minutes. Three tallies.” She said in broken estuan, nodding and holding out her hand. The galdor sat back, swaying slightly as she patted down the pockets of her thick black coat, finding her coin purse and throwing a handful of coins on the bench. The Hoxian watched with widened eyes as a few shills and two tallies chimes as they fell onto the wood.
“Here. A glass of Percival Armstrong's Tonic To Soothe What Ails You, and keep the change.” Shifting, she uncrossed her arms and curled her fingers into her hair with a sigh. Her head swam foggily, vaguely recalling the sonata she’d participated in that evening, itching suddenly to play it again. It was a ballad. A love song. Charity smiled slowly to herself, running her hands through her locks and resting her chin on her fists, crossing her ankles as her feet swung gently.
She should play it for Rhys.
The intoxicated musician giggled to herself, biting her lower lip as her hazy mind wandered its way through Roalis. It was still almost a dream to think they’d found each other again after so long. Father had no idea, and she had to keep it that way, but even with the ever present danger of Captain D’arthe, the petite galdor knew it was worth the risk. Because she loved the foolish tall Seventen.
She loved him, always had. Always would.
Alioe, but he deserved better. He couldn’t know how she felt, because if he did, he might feel the same. She would just break his heart again. There was no future for him with her. Not with Damen around.
“Why can’t it all just be simple?” She muttered to herself, burying her head in her crossed arms with a groan.
“Tonic for you, miss. Dsoh soon. You drink. Make happy.” The Hoxian keep tapped her arm, offering Charity a small shallow ceramic cup full of an alluring lime green beverage. The tonic was laced with Laudeum, a popular way to get high legally, should you drink enough. The blonde raised her head, smiling wanely and taking the cup to knock it back in one go. Wincing as she swallowed, Charity waggled the white ceramic tableware.
“Another, if I may.” She said softly, waiting for the older human to take the cup and refill it.