[D1-EE] Crawdad Boil [Social Thread]

[Dilyéhé]

Dily was listening too, but she noticing much the same that Gray was.

Wiggling her nose a few more times, she rubbed her fluffed paws across her face a few times before yawning.

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D1 EE Crawdad Boil. Anything out of the ordinary? Wits 3 + Investigation 2 + 2 Chrysalis - 2 from boisterious noise: 5d10o10h8 3

[Mirachaya]

Dily was listening too, but she noticing much the same that Gray was.

Wiggling her nose a few more times, she rubbed her fluffed paws across her face a few times before yawning.

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D1 EE Crawdad Boil. Anything out of the ordinary? Wits 3 + Investigation 2 + 2 Chrysalis - 2 from boisterious noise: 5d10o10h8 3

There really is nothing too unusual.

[Marcus Kendall]

With their backs turned, the kerfuffle of shoving and spilling drinks seemed to roll off Chantelle’s feathers almost unnoticed, “a lil whi’ wine woul’ be jus’ de ting.” She indicated towards the table before answering his other question, “mais, dat depen’ on wha’ music soothes dis savage beas’.”

"Wine, eh." With a politely growled. 'I beg your pardon', Marcus reached past a changeling who looked like the China Princess from the Wizard of Oz. He grabbed a glass of wine and turned to pass it to Chantelle. "Here you go." His hold of the item was rather awkward and she would have to touch his claws to pick it up.

The beast himself, would eventually reach for the moonshine, gingerly picking up a large tin cup on his paws and pouring the putrid liquid into his mouth. The taste - or lack if did not seem to bother Marcus. Hearing her question the beast lolled out its tongue, his tail wrapping around his legs. "Bluegrass. I used to like Sierra Hull and Alison Brown." he mentioned names of two more well known bluegrass vocalists, only to pause and blink. "Arrr. Thinking about the past makes my head hurt. Does it do that to you too?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

"Wine, eh." With a politely growled. 'I beg your pardon', Marcus reached past a changeling who looked like the China Princess from the Wizard of Oz. He grabbed a glass of wine and turned to pass it to Chantelle. "Here you go." His hold of the item was rather awkward and she would have to touch his claws to pick it up.

The beast himself, would eventually reach for the moonshine, gingerly picking up a large tin cup on his paws and pouring the putrid liquid into his mouth. The taste - or lack if did not seem to bother Marcus. Hearing her question the beast lolled out its tongue, his tail wrapping around his legs. "Bluegrass. I used to like Sierra Hull and Alison Brown." he mentioned names of two more well known bluegrass vocalists, only to pause and blink. "Arrr. Thinking about the past makes my head hurt. Does it do that to you too?"

Her fingers were long enough that her "wings" didn't brush against the beast as she took the cup, not because she shied from, but because she was polite and proper. Her manicured fingertips slid over the claws smoothly and the egret didn't bat an eyelash. Chantelle dropped a straw into the cup, it was annoying, but really the only way she could get to the very bottom of her drink, so it had become habit over the last three months. At least she didn't need gravity to swallow, small blessings...

"Fortunately fo' me, no," in many ways she had been extremely fortunate, "I was able to step righ' back into my life." She pondered on him music choices, "mais, mos' my music more jazzy, bu' I'll see wha' I can do fo' you, beb."

[Marcus Kendall]

If the beast had opinions about her form he kept them to himself, the only sensation that Chantelle could feel emanating from Marcus being curiosity. His eyes focused on the straw for a moment before gliding upward so that he could meet her gaze. There was something very inhuman in his eyes, an eerie glow that was reminiscent of the wychfires of Arcadia.

"That's nice." The beast growled, sounding bit envious. "I wish I could have. But not like I had much life before. Or, so I feel. I still dream of my time on the other side." There was a slight pause. "I don't sleep well."

"Jazz. It's more, uh." The beast grimaced as he tried to focus. "Name me some songs you like?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

“If you eva jus’ wan’ to sleep,” Chantelle mimed sprinkling something in Marcus’ eyes, “you only ‘ave to ax, beb.” She sipped the wine, it was too dry, some ice cubes would have been nice. “I daresay it time to stop tinking ‘bout de pas’ an’ leave it were it belong. Tomorrow, you come by, an’ I sing for you, an’ we fin’ wha’ music moves you now.”

[Marcus Kendall]

"Magicks?" Marcus asked, wrinkling his nose. Doubt seeped into his voice. "Not sure I need to sleep that well." He glanced around, his plumed tail sneaking bethis feet. "I feel like they might come when I sleep. Take me back." The beast shivered, his arms tensing.

Looking down into his cup, Marcus found it empty. Snorting, he moved to rectify the matter. Despite his size, he tried to be polite and did his best to not cut the line or step on anyone's feet or claws.

"I wish I could, Chantelle, I do. But the memories don't go away..." his growl had a melancholic tone to it. "I wonder how everyone manages it. We've been to hell. But this hell doesn't leave you." Marcus reached to carefully touch her 'wings', hus claw brushing against her feathers.

[Chantelle Rossette]

“Some cages nica den oders,” she cooed softly, “you no’ alone ‘ere. Mais, I can’ speak fo’ de oders, bu’ I can kee’ watch when you sleep.” The egret was pacing herself, sipping lightly at the wine.

[Marcus Kendall]

"I bet. Mine had thorns as long as my claws." The beast flexed arm. His mien had beastly paws with wicked claws three inch long. "So we would not escape." He added with a mournful growl. "But I couldn't even think about escaping most of the time." There was grief in his eyes.

Marcus shook his cup gently, dipping his tongue in it to sip a little. The sight was rather gruesome, a beast stuffing his thick, long tongue into a small cup.

"There was this girl here." He glanced around, not finding what he was looking for. "Used to bunk with her. It helped. Now she is here no more."

[Samantha Hayne]

"The food is never lacking my sweet demon doll," he said proudly.

"Knowing dey still keep de cajun tastes," she said with a hint of contentment in her voice, "ca c'est bon."

She nodded again. "On de morrow," she added, by way of leave; before she walked back into the crowd to mingle.

((pm if approached))