[D1-EE] Crawdad Boil [Social Thread]

[Chantelle Rossette]

Smelling the flowers, Marcus wrinkled his nose, turning to the direction of the scent. "Uh." the best blinked, flopping his large head down and up. "I saw the others having fun. I thought I'd join." he explained with a deep, rumbling voice. "Was fun, until it wasn't." a dry cackle followed. "I've had worse done to me." he added, plucking out yet another spine. The beast whimpered a little as he pulled the barbed spine out. Dark red blood stained the matted green fur. "Prickly fellow, that lady." This time the rumbling tone took a bemused tone.

Chantelle clucked her tongue, that was the second time today someone had said that her, she wondered if it would be a running theme. "I 'ope you gave as good as you got, den." Her long fingers hovered over the beast's arm, a hair's breadth from touching, "de name Chantelle Rossette, I no docta, but I can look a' dat, beb."

[Eliza Stardust]

"All crawfished out, me" she said, looking up at Eliza. There was no smile on that creepy face whatsoever; but then, a smile would probably only make her seem even creepier.

That was not the real question, of course. It had been a request for shared information; a big ask from a Darkling of Autumn.

"Oh, just gossip so far. Whispers of animosity b'tween freeholds, 'n such, I heard. But whispers are just that, no?"

"Good. Saves me coming up with an excuse why I don't want to eat more."

Elizas tone seemed flat, uninterested.

"Let's walk. Whispers are just whispers of course. I'm new in town, so whispers can be fun. Learning names such as Baton Rouge" there was a sideways look at the doll woman as she spoke "I feel like I should know who they are, but I don't."

[Marcus Kendall]

Chantelle clucked her tongue, that was the second time today someone had said that her, she wondered if it would be a running theme. "I 'ope you gave as good as you got, den." Her long fingers hovered over the beast's arm, a hair's breadth from touching, "de name Chantelle Rossette, I no docta, but I can look a' dat, beb."

"I sure did." Marcus murmured, flashing Chantelle a canine smile. "She was much stronger than I thought, though. Something wyrd going." he shrugged. "Still new to all this. Been here only for few months." Whether here referred to the human world or Minuit, she could not tell. Not being one to look a gift egret in the mouth - and that would have been hard, all things considered - Marcus extended his muscled, long arm to her, seemingly unafraid. "They got barbs. Gotta be bit careful." he explained matter of factually. The beat nodded as she introduced herself. "Marcus Kendall. People call me Mark."

His plumed tail had sensed something and stirred, its eyes slowly blinking. Yet the green-yellow patterns remained unfocused.

[Chantelle Rossette]

"I sure did." Marcus murmured, flashing Chantelle a canine smile. "She was much stronger than I thought, though. Something wyrd going." he shrugged. "Still new to all this. Been here only for few months." Whether here referred to the human world or Minuit, she could not tell. Not being one to look a gift egret in the mouth - and that would have been hard, all things considered - Marcus extended his muscled, long arm to her, seemingly unafraid. "They got barbs. Gotta be bit careful." he explained matter of factually. The beat nodded as she introduced herself. "Marcus Kendall. People call me Mark."

His plumed tail had sensed something and stirred, its eyes slowly blinking. Yet the green-yellow patterns remained unfocused.

Chantelle had a kindly air about her, using her manicured nails to part the matted fur and examine the injury, "weh, same wit me." If it was unclear whether Marcus meant the freehold, the mortal realm, or just the area, then it was also unclear which one she was identifying with. Finally, "I daresay you'll survive, beb," the Fairest declared, "but you a righ' mess, when you las' brush dis fur?" She looped her arm through the beast's; she was tall, but the wolfman still had almost a foot on her, and a significant poundage over her bird-light frame.

[Samantha Hayne]

"Good. Saves me coming up with an excuse why I don't want to eat more."

Elizas tone seemed flat, uninterested.

"Let's walk. Whispers are just whispers of course. I'm new in town, so whispers can be fun. Learning names such as Baton Rouge" there was a sideways look at the doll woman as she spoke "I feel like I should know who they are, but I don't."

Someone may have heard the same whispers; which had implications but was hardly conclusive.

"Mais, know not a 'ting about it me. Other than dey boude' on someting an' someone." She had a naturally thick Cajun accent, but she enjoyed playing it up a little with out of towners.

She cocked her head a little as she looked at one of the tables, her attention briefly drawn by something or someone. It emphasized just how very non-human she was, her head not swivelling naturally, but moving in very much a puppet-like manner. Or a corpse-on-a-string, perhaps. The moment passed, and she went and walked with the woman.

[Marcus Kendall]

Chantelle had a kindly air about her, using her manicured nails to part the matted fur and examine the injury, "weh, same wit me." If it was unclear whether Marcus meant the freehold, the mortal realm, or just the area, then it was also unclear which one she was identifying with. Finally, "I daresay you'll survive, beb," the Fairest declared, "but you a righ' mess, when you las' brush dis fur?" She looped her arm through the beast's; she was tall, but the wolfman still had almost a foot on her, and a significant poundage over her bird-light frame.

"Ah." She could hear that he hadn't expected her answer. Somehow he expected that everyone knew more than he did. Chantelle's probing fingers would discover small pieces of lichen clinging to beast's fur, close to his skin. "I've survived so far. And if any of those fucking sons of bitches tries to come to take me back, I'll rip their throats out." the beast growled, his muscles tensing under her touch as he flexed his claws. "Or die trying..." he added, his low tone now more somber. "I ain't going back alive." The air was heavy with determination and anger.

"Brush? Ma'am. Do I look like I have a brush?" an eyebrow rose to indicate a question.

[Eliza Stardust]

Someone may have heard the same whispers; which had implications but was hardly conclusive.

"Mais, know not a 'ting about it me. Other than dey boude' on someting an' someone." She had a naturally thick Cajun accent, but she enjoyed playing it up a little with out of towners.

She cocked her head a little as she looked at one of the tables, her attention briefly drawn by something or someone. It emphasized just how very non-human she was, her head not swivelling naturally, but moving in very much a puppet-like manner. Or a corpse-on-a-string, perhaps. The moment passed, and she went and walked with the woman.

Accents needed to just go away, but it wasn't happening. Eliza spoke in what appeared to be a New York style accent, but with her tone of voice it seemed very difficult to tell easily.

"I guess it's quite close by then. Otherwise they wouldn't be talked about" there was a small shrug, and as the girl cocked her head she eyed the back of it up. Curious as to how the girl worked...if she was a girl at all.

"Maybe they'll be worth a visit in time. Last thing anyone needs is someone causing a commotion."

Amusing words, based on what she'd done before...but she kept that part quiet.

[Chantelle Rossette]

"Ah." She could hear that he hadn't expected her answer. Somehow he expected that everyone knew more than he did. Chantelle's probing fingers would discover small pieces of lichen clinging to beast's fur, close to his skin. "I've survived so far. And if any of those fucking sons of bitches tries to come to take me back, I'll rip their throats out." the beast growled, his muscles tensing under her touch as he flexed his claws. "Or die trying..." he added, his low tone now more somber. "I ain't going back alive." The air was heavy with determination and anger."Brush? Ma'am. Do I look like I have a brush?" an eyebrow rose to indicate a question.

Chantelle laughed, and it was melodic and sweet. Stroking his arm, she seemed to casually brush over his anger and determination, radiating poise and calm. "Mais, lucky fo' you, I 'ave quite de collection. You eva wan' to ge' all dat lichen ou', meybe Chantelle can 'elp." Her mask, with its full, pouty red lips smiled, "I daresay you migh' jus' 'ave some rare an' valu'ble dings growin' in dere."

[Marcus Kendall]

Marcus' ears twitched as she laughed, focusing on her. "The lichen's just... there. It grows back even if I tear it off. Some fucked-up fae shit." he looked at his own arm. "I looked much better before, that much I can tell you." long, dark pink tongue lolled out of his mouth. The beast's tongue was too long for a human - and almost too long for a canine. Unlike the tongue of a dog or a wolf, his was pointed, as if imagined by some deranged artist. In many ways, his for had been imagined by a deranged artist. "Valuable he." he sounded puzzled. Shrugging, he shook his head. "Don't think so. Not that anyone has tried to find anything."

[Samantha Hayne]

Accents needed to just go away, but it wasn't happening. Eliza spoke in what appeared to be a New York style accent, but with her tone of voice it seemed very difficult to tell easily.

"I guess it's quite close by then. Otherwise they wouldn't be talked about" there was a small shrug, and as the girl cocked her head she eyed the back of it up. Curious as to how the girl worked...if she was a girl at all.

"Maybe they'll be worth a visit in time. Last thing anyone needs is someone causing a commotion."

Amusing words, based on what she'd done before...but she kept that part quiet.

Accents, Samantha thought, had many uses. Though the New York kind was hardly hard to grasp. Unless they went into that deep jazz lingo they had up there, maybe. But so far so good.

"Dey is closer by than dan dey whom got warned away," she said, "But I'm just a coujon, myself. Still learnin' de ways of de freehold. Don't even know all dat is of this one, much less any of de others. Is why I'm making the veiller 'ere dis fine evening."

There was no harm in letting the out-of-towner know she was new-ish to being free. It was no secret, after all.

"You came down from far to visite?"