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Post by enchilada on Apr 11, 2019 21:31:13 GMT
Dhaunmyr was a man who figured he enjoyed the simpler things. Good food, in reasonable quantities, good wine, in absolutely unreasonable quantities, and looking at pretty things, in an overflowing quantity, as his eyes rarely graced anything that would, in any world, be deemed unattractive. He was decked out in gold and silver, rings on almost every finger, a delicate string of diamonds for a choker, an amulet engraved with an elven woman, dancing in the moonlight, slivers of dark stone to bring life to her obsidian skin and the iridescent moon behind her, and, as always, a plain gold ring through his eyebrow. There was something gaudy, but altogether beautiful about his ensemble. It showed a delightful amount of planning and thought. The harshest clash was the timeless red tint, applied extremely neatly to his lips, and even it worked in harmony with the rest of him, the accessories, the outfit (actually wearing something that wasn’t a borrowed skirt), the hair. Perfect hair.
In fact, Dhaunmyr was so well kitted out, he figured he’d find it easier, tonight more than ever, to find something to drag him through until morning. He wasn’t blind drunk yet. All he was, was a sneaking liar in high stilettos with a stupid smile, and a very expensive glass of wine, in a bar he’d promised not to go get drunk in ever again, without the watchful eye of his two ‘friends’ that asserted themselves as mothers. Oh no, he was fine. He didn’t need to be handheld. He had other friends now, at least two of them, and they were amazing! He was fine on his own, looking for somebody, anyone, really, to let him be on his own — to be alone but obviously together. Idle chat would easily see him through.
All this, ranted to the poor barkeep. Dhaunmyr knew they didn’t care, barely listened. Work to do and places to be, but Dhaunmyr almost didn’t care. He refused to feel that he, and the few people he knew well enough to consider friends, were the only ones in the world who had some kind of independent stream of thought.
Dhaunmyr had a loud outfit, loud voice, and a very loud general air, the kind of a foreigner who wanted, very desperately, to feel like a native, in a country with values he could never understand.
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 11, 2019 22:17:31 GMT
Getting drunk was quite an ordeal for Naizelos. To say it required a complicated magic ritual and a lot of attempts was underselling it, still. An euphemism. And it was not in the ammount of quantities he could drink either, it was in the nature of his own body and the way it interacted with what made booze have that particular effect on people. He had to get his fun, most of the time, in other ways. The Red Stallion was not his first pick for taverns given how much tired and jaded he could get of people, but after those periods of loneliness and meditation he had some social energy to spend.
The was looking for someone that looked fun, so his gaze quickly went from face to face. His attire was nothing out of the spectacular, looking like a well-dressed man in black clothes trimmed with golden, making a good contrast with his intense yellow snake eyes. In truth it wasn't really clothes what he was wearing but a full plate mail, perfectly tailored to suit his body with a spell to alter the way it looked, hiding the fact that he was wearing armor in a tavern. Runes were carved on the surface in black silver, in a language known as abyssal, a thin layer of fine cloth covered the scriptures. And what did it say? They were spells, spells he someday might need to learn again as the knowledge left his mortal mind.
His attention jumped from face to face, from race to race, until he found something quite unlike anything he had seen before. A drow dressed like he had come to buy the entire place. He couldn't decide which of the two things was more interesting. The fact that a drow was in the city, or that he was being as ostentatious as that about his presence. The Yuan-ti grabbed his drink and made his way over to where the young fellow was ranting to the barkeep, and both loudly and carefreely took a seat next to him. He looked at him in the eyes for about five seconds, just taking in his appeareance as if he was remembering having seen him before, before he spoke.
"Before I came to Waterdeep I spent years traveling through the world, from the sea of stars to the icy north in Icewind Dale. Up there I've seen some amazing things, ice giants, and frost wolves. Their breath alone can freeze just about anything that moves if it blows on it for long enough, though it was not as strange a sight as the depths of the icy caves of the snowfallen valley, where they harvest Icesteel, well under the sea level. It's a material so hard and so cold to the touch it instantly freezes anything that comes into contact with it. Can you imagine how cold that is? Though not as cold as this ice I've just broken between us, call me Malakbel."
He introduced himself to the drow with a sharp smirk.
"What do they call you, other than handsome?"
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Post by enchilada on Apr 12, 2019 6:49:30 GMT
Dhaunmyr had just about realised that he needed to find a way to sneak back to his room if he wanted not to have his ear bitten off. It was simply annoying, but his mind strayed this way or that in deciding what to do about it. His window wasn’t open. He’d have to get through the inn his friends were sleeping in very quietly, and kinda shove himself through the door without fully opening it because halfway, it made the most horrible sound. It would definitely alert them. He didn’t really know why he was acting like a fifteen year old human with overbearing parents who didn’t want him to go to the party— then again that was pretty much the situation. No fun club! That’s what Fae and Brenn were!
Oh Dhaunmyr you’re not thinking about your health! Like you care about that, you’re just controlling my life because your own is so random and unpredictable!
He’d fluffed up a bit in anger, but then he heard a more silky voice than the patrons around him could muster, a different one he hadn’t noticed that night. He smiled, ready for the ultimate question, the one that poked at the colour of his skin and the shape of his ears. But it didn’t come. He finally turned his head, and scanned the man, head to toe. Malakbel. Plain, maybe too much so. He just didn’t quite jump out. The eyes were interesting, that was a first for him in truth. And the name, a little too harsh, to pronounce it might return his sneer, or his accent. Maybe it carried a little, but he only tried to fit in.
“It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, my dear, but you really must be more specific. Some would call me nothing but a string of insults, others, a name now foreign to me. In truth? I would like you to think of me as Dhaunmyr Vivacity. Now, how can I help you?”
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 19, 2019 20:16:03 GMT
"Well" The Yuan-ti said with a sharp smile, white and glimering with the predatory air of his species "You have to admit it doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? On the other hand, handsome just rolls of the tongue."
He shifted slightly in his seat in order to take a better look at his interlocutor.
"You could give me a hundred thousand gold. That would really help." Admitted then without losing that smirk, before moving on. "Nonetheless, for a first meeting I'll settle for a good story. I have a friend that sailed the seas and has a most interesting custom, she wears an important amount of her wealth on her person. Jewels, rings, even some of those are braided into her hair. Do you do the same because you like the way people look at you, or because it's a customary thing where you come from?"
The Yuan-ti stopped to stare into the drow's eyes. Where he came from? Well of course, Drows, or dark elves, were from the underdark from where they had developed their particular skin color and vision in the dark. He had read about them but seldom had the chance to converse with one. Because that was what he was doing, right, just converse? Granted most encyclopedic information available he took with a grain of salt as there was no... How to put it, academic standard to which the information had been subjected before being "published". Thus the truth was always mingled with rumors, hearsay, and outright innacurate information.
It was the same for him and his particular race. His mother had done a good job about teaching him "the ways" of his people and "his rightful place" among them, but most other people he met just hadn't had that kind of luck. And thus regarded him as literal flesh eating, demon worshiper came to steal their daughters. There were snippets of truth in their presuppositions, just not where it really mattered.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 19, 2019 20:33:11 GMT
“You flatter me far too much, my dear, ‘tis such a shame that I’m not quite drunk enough to be interested.” He hinted, with a quick wink. He was usually interested. It was unfortunate that desirable men up here seemed only to be those who could be bothered to wash their faces in the morning, and desirable women were the ones dressed and puckered up to suffocation. It of course stranded him to an extent, but at least Malakbel seemed to have eyes that could perceive the difference between the two. Even if it was funny to watch the idiots run word-circles and try to explain away their interest in him, because they only gave a quick glance to the skinny elf lady at the bar, cause drow girls are kinda scary-sexy.
“I’m not sure you really want that, Malakbel. You see, I don’t come from a light and airy place, but I’ll tell you why I wear all these jewels. I’m a merchant, wandering from here to there, but I’m almost settled, actually. But with that, I like to show off my wares. This is far from Underdark dress. In fact, I’m showing off far too much skin, my sisters would drag me in by the tip of my ear and throw on a good few more cloaks, and make sure my corset laces were much tighter, no need to breathe if you’re a sacrifice anyway!” He laughed, clearly finding his own joke quite funny. “I’d also get the lot stolen down there, pretty much immediately. But, I’m glad I can wear them now, they’re pretty. And that’s all I really need.”
“Before you ask, if you behave, maybe you can find out if I still wear a corset later.”
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 23, 2019 2:26:40 GMT
"I won't make any promises. You'll like me better when I'm not nice."
Said as he looked at him in the eyes, locking his view for one second, two, three, before smirking slowly but surely and bringing the glass to his lips drinking a sip from his mug. Ah, the lengths he had to go in order to experience the same relief as the common man.
"How come most fun places are usually dark and damp, as opposed to light and airy? Nonetheless, color me surprised. A sacrifice? Really?"
He questioned when it came to it, he didn't know that the drow society was big into sacrifices but then again he did not have first hand experiences with them, considering how most of the times they only came to raid and capture slaves if the books he had read were anything to go by. He wondered if it would have anything to do with their goddess, such a strange thing to see a whole race being monotheist. Thought the Yuan-ti, whose race was pretty much entirely monotheist. And yet there were differences, the god he had been brought up "with", was not the same that the rest of the Yuan-ti possessed as a whole. At least, not the way his mother had expressed it.
"Look at you go, rebel. So, you like people to look at you, because you like to show your wares."
He smiled
"Were you to be a sacrifice for... good crops? Good fortune? A good outcome in war? Death to your enemies?"
He continued then, curious.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 10:00:14 GMT
“You’ll have to elaborate, dearest Malakbel. It may surprise you what I like.”
Dhaunmyr was more than happy to match the eye contact, he liked the attention. While he had picked up (and then excused himself from) women, he was more cautious of the men. He let them come to him, and turned away the ones he didn’t like rather quickly. This one was interesting enough to be allowed to stay, for now, at least.
“You haven’t even seen half of it. On my person, I mean. I have plenty more in my room, but even on me, there is quite the lot more. I can’t show you, unfortunately, but I will assure you it is there.” He chuckled. It wasn’t a lie. Dhaunmyr didn’t have any piercings other than his firsts for cute little plain studs when he was forty-nine, but now he was fifty, and oh boy. Four more piercings in the ears, gauges, two eyebrow piercings and he was booked in for his septum soon. He didn’t wear his lip ring anymore, it was difficult to deal with it in his hair, his lipstick, and everything else that went on there, but he didn’t stop getting holes put in his body when his face got a little crowded.
“Sacrifice? Oh, it’s a lovely turn of phrase in the Underdark dialect of Elvish, but I suppose if I were to be a sacrifice, it would be incredibly sexy, no matter the reason. The drow like to have... a little fun... when it comes to religious ceremonies.” He was oddly at ease talking about it. Maybe it was Malakbel, maybe it was the context, maybe he’d already had enough to drink. He didn’t know. He didn’t particularly care. It was nice.
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 23, 2019 22:00:15 GMT
He let out a small chuckle
"I can get behind a religion like that. Most I've seen are all about either suffering, or being stern and simply no fun at all allowed. Makes me think if they do it simply because they don't know better, or because it is all they've known so far."
However he imagined whatever religion the drow would of had was borderline evil by the rest of the world standards. If their word were anything to go by, and if it was factual, it made no sense that drow society would have continued to exist for so long. If they truly betrayed and killed each other constantly they couldn't have built a society let alone face outside enemies due to being unnable to keep any consistent hierarchy or semblance of order between each other, as would any culture in which individualism and betrayal superceded that of unity, racial or city-state pride.
Plenty more on his room he had said.
"Are you staying here, in this very place?"
He asked then, curious, but also, disbelieving. Surely someone that looked so wealthy as the person in front of him could buy himself something better. Or perhaps he wasn't sold yet on the idea of staying in Waterdeep? There was however another question that kept going round and round in his mind. He mentioned that he was a traveling merchant but was that safe for a drow? He wasn't a merchant and he knew first hand just how kind some people can be towards him whenever they feel like they can get away with it. He imagined the backlash he would get by just being a drow would amount to the same quantity of bullshit. And yet he mentioned sisters. Perhaps, with a caravan, it was safer. But even then... Trading with a drow? He could see that happening in Waterdeep, things had been... slightly different in the city. But it was worrysome still. Perhaps, shrewder merchants did not care where their goods come from or how they had been procured so long as they beat their competitor's prices.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 23, 2019 22:24:47 GMT
“So forward!” Dhaunmyr gasped, although he was clearly enjoying it, a smile teleporting, rather than creeping, wide on his face. “No.” He answered, simply. He of course had nicer lodgings, but a small part of him was wary to bring that up. He didn’t know why, but there was a sudden distrust. Something, something... he couldn’t tell what he saw as objectively off.
And then he forgot it again.
“Oh! Of course not, although I can’t remember the name of the place. I suppose I would have to show you... pity. I wouldn’t want to drag you all the way for no reason at all, but I can assure you I keep myself in far better places. It just so happens that I don’t want to spend so much money getting drunk tonight, and the wine is cheaper here.”
It was a fair middle ground, he thought. No ‘I live at that one tavern’, but also, no ‘fuck off’. He didn’t want Malakbel to leave yet. He was the most interesting person he’d seen all night.
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 27, 2019 2:17:17 GMT
"Well, what can I say, if want to crash somewhere and actually be glad to remember the name afterwards, I could show you my place. I usually rent the front, but right now it's vacant"
He tossed Dhaunmyr's way with a smile the natural stealth of an elephant, but it wasn't like he was pretending not to be bothered about the social nuances. He really wasn't. It was ironic that most other people would either be a nervous, sweaty mess trying to keep a straight face when saying something like that, his problem was entirely the opposite. He shook his head when he mentioned the wine, and the getting drunk and then tossed a casual glance at the mug he had been drinking from.
"Oh I feel you. Money is not a problem with me, it's only the booze in itself it's... Not really strong enough. It takes an unearthly amount to get me going, so one day I decided to make a small improvisation on it, though it doesn't last long it provides a similar experience for me."
He then tilted the glass, showing Dhaunmyr that the wine inside was not looking like any other wine would, but instead had small trace of bright crimson flowing within, like a very slow lightning branching and moving through the liquid.
"But what would life be without the difficulties and the random encounters? Dull and gray"
And he took another sip from the mug
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Post by enchilada on Apr 27, 2019 2:35:48 GMT
“Be glad to remember the name? Surely that depends on what happens when the door closes? And since I’ve never heard a single thing about you, I can only assume you’re either somewhat inactive, or not worth mentioning.” Dhaunmyr kind of- he wasn’t sure. There was plenty of time for him to move on to another tavern. He absolutely didn’t want to waste the night out, though, and he seemed to be managing to string this guy along.
“Maybe there’s a third option. Plain luck? Although, I’m not a great believer in luck. Perhaps for you, it’s luck.”
Dhaunmyr glanced at the glass, curious, but, all the same, Malakbel didn’t go into any further detail on his own. So maybe it wouldn’t come anyway.
“I don’t see the point in throwing up expensive drinks. The first few, maybe, they might be of a quality I deserve, but if I’m drinking just to... then I don’t want to waste gold. It’s just crazy. I’m glad you can get the same buzz, though. If I came to the realms above to learn that alcohol functioned differently, I don’t think I would have coped quite as long as I have. And that coping tends to stem from nights like these, drinks like this, and strangers like you. But I’m picky. If you really do have no money problems, you’re the first in a while, so I’ll give you that. And you’re not some disgusting, slimy creature, as an example of men, so there’s that too.”
He chuckled to himself, the standards were so low.
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 28, 2019 20:49:09 GMT
He couldn't help but laugh, wholeheartedly at his first response it being that Dhaunmyr hadn't heard of him before. It was a joyful laughter, contagious, energic, and thoroughly sincere.
"Are you a sampler of men Dhaunmyr, or simply an omniscient being?"
It was laughable that anyone would have heard of him, or that he would invite any stranger to his house. Moreover, that he would do so with such a frequency that being heard of and gaining notoriety would be a good thing, and he found the thought simply hilarious. He imagined himself running a business like that, and it made him smile.
"Don't answer, I like the mystery"
Added then within second, still some remainder of his laugh lagging in his voice, and with those words he finally brought up the mug one last time to swallow the remains of that spell enhanced wine, letting out a small sigh of relief afterwards.
"Alright"
He said accompanying that sigh and placed both hands down at the bar, somewhat loudly as he inhaled and then turned to look at him again.
"It's been fun, oh Dhaunmyr from the underdark"
Bid with a smirk, and underneath he could feel his earnest bitter self coming to the surface. That playfulness of his slowly being replaced by the sharp cruelty that seemed to be his "true nature" much to his chagrin, and he knew himself. It was like navigating a slippery slope during a storm, his natural proclivities being in this case represented by the existance of gravity. It was a strange duality and one he constantly had to fight to even bring himself to approach others, and certainly a hassle to live with it.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 28, 2019 21:06:03 GMT
Dhaunmyr took the laugh as a compliment. He laughed along with him. Just as he was about to speak, he was asked not to answer. He was alright with that, he would have been cryptic anyway.
His smile drained when Malakbel suggested he was leaving, and so soon. Dhaunmyr traced the closest hand, suddenly on the bar, with his fingertips. “Been fun? My dear we’ve barely scratched the surface. Is there a problem?”
It occurred to him, maybe, he gave off an appeal as being inexperienced. Of course, he was foreign, he was a little falsely shy, and he was extremely careful with whom and in what way he spoke. Perhaps that was it. He couldn’t take that back, that was for sure. That ship had sailed. Metaphorically, of course. Dhaunmyr was still learning to incorporate the dialect of those around him, even if he could parrot the accent.
“You surely won’t strand me around such beasts, will you?” He stopped contact, but left his hand hovering over the other man’s, still.
Was this rejection? From someone who wasn’t confused? Dhaunmyr wasn’t sure how to take that.
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Post by Malakbel on Apr 28, 2019 21:55:11 GMT
His gaze trailed his arm all the way through, until it rested on Dhaunmyr's fingers with a crude smirk. The drow would realise then that in fact, the Yuan-Ti's fingers were really cold to the touch. Not ice cold, but colder than any living thing should have been. Barely luckwarm, as if heated by room temperature only. It was also hard to the touch, though slim and soft. However, he did not seem upset or bothered by his touch, as his smile remained in place.
"However inviting it would be to wrap my hands around your legs and confine you to a piece of forniture, I'm afraid it is beyond my mood to do such a thing in a place like this place right now. You will find nonetheless, if you focus on it enough, that your legs work just as they should"
With those words, a small jesting smirk, he finally stood up, the height difference between them slowly contrasting as he did so, but his eyes never parted those of the elf.
"There is a curse that assails me, you see, and I must leave this place at once. But I won't stop you from coming along, the way I heard it the streets of Waterdeep are a fun place to go through with the right company."
The part of the curse was just about the only thing that seemed a bit more serious than his usual banter, but it was as if he swept it under the rug the moment it came up.
"Just like the planes of hell, if you're with the right demon"
Added then with a quick wink from those intense snake eyes of his, and glanced towards the exit already picturing the warm winds on the outside and what he knew would most likely be waiting for him outside, or nearby somewhere. After all it was only a matter of time. He would wait for Dhaunmyr, but soon he would be on his way as it seemed other circumstances pressed him, if it really wasn't a cloaked ennui, and a subtle rejection.
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Post by enchilada on Apr 28, 2019 22:10:03 GMT
Dhaunmyr was — confused.
The touch was cold. Some people had bad circulation. He wasn’t about to put any more thought into it, especially not when other things suddenly demanded his attention. Did he sound like this? Was this what people heard when he tried to make his declarations more interesting? He had approximately no extra brain power to dedicate to figuring out what the fuck Malakbel was talking about. So vague! So frustrating. Kinda hot.
“As if I’d be caught doing anything here...” Dhaunmyr shook his head. He had to be a little picky.
Dhaunmyr couldn’t help but have his interest sparked by this man.
“Where— why?”
He tagged along, all the same, it seemed that he’d been invited. He would have left soon, regardless, so he might as well spice up his night with whatever in the demonweb this was going to be.
“Alright. You’ve got me on your line. Where are you reeling me to?”
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