Bosie pinched one side of her lower lip between her thumb and fist as she gave a drawn-out "hmmm." There was perhaps no set price for the rental of the device; one might imagine the gnome would broker all sorts of deals to ensure an upper hand for herself with her customers, a favored owed.
"Tell you what," she said with a decisive snap of her fingers. "If you want to rent it, I can make that happen for you. But you're not putting it up in your window. Or else someone's going to figure out that I've given you, you know, a little nudge into this business!"
Behind Bosie, Myrna rolled her eyes.
Perhaps mother had eyes in the back of her head, because she turned sharply at that moment to look at her daughter. Her gaze was anything but stern, though. "Sweet pea, you and Rigley will drop it off for your old Mom tomorrow!"
This time Myrna made no attempt to hide her exasperation. "Moms, he ruins everything!" She actually stomped one foot on the floor for emphasis. She hardly seemed embarrassed to make a childish display in front of company. Bosie merely patted her fondly on the knee.
"Alright!" Bosie snapped her attention back to Kosal and gave him something resembling a winning smile. "Tomorrow evening, one night rental, fifty bishani! But there's homework! Tomorrow while I'm about town on my business I want to hear at least one civilian mention your new shop. I don't care if it's just gossip from the biggest busybody in town, and I don't care if you pay someone to go out and spread the word. All I want to know is that you're doing your part to raise a name for yourself!
"And I'm not sending the drumbox until I hear it!" With that, Bosie clapped her hands for finality and gestured grandly for the door.
The Arrangement
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Kosal couldn’t help but find Myrna’s little temper-tantrum amusing, apparently she had become accustomed to getting her own way. However the prospect of having her brother deliver the drumbox with her did pose some trouble for Kosal’s plans. He dared not make this known since he could not think of an explanation on the spot for a reason why Rigley should not help his sister deliver the instrument.
Kosal did not make any inclination towards the price of the loan one way or the other; he had a figure in mind for the return he believed he could make on this rental and presumably he would make a profit on it. At the mention of homework his expression did turn somewhat sour.
“I dropped out of school.” This was the only retort he gave after rolling his eyes. It was not a position he liked being in; it seemed to Kosal that payment of his debt towards Bosie’s generosity would be to play up to her power games. Her dominating personality no-doubt stemmed from some inferiority complex, brought about by her diminutive stature… at least that is what Kosal supposed, through his frustration. He wondered if all gnomes who ambled through human society contracted such dispositions over time; Kosal himself was not tall after all, at least not by human standards. Perhaps that was why he held a greater tolerance for the company of the little folk.
“Very well… you will have your report ms Vaporgate.” Kosal nodded politely towards Bosie and then Myrna in turn before collecting up the lent belongings and making his way towards the door and out into the night.
Unfortunately for him, Kosal’s evening had only just begun, he had a lot yet to do due to the deadlines enforced upon him, and he would have to pay more than he liked for the speed required. Kosal continued on towards his intended destination, the home of his trader contact with the failing business- a jeweler who had fallen on hard times.
The time taken to reach his destination passed on uneventfully but took Kosal longer than it should have due to the haul he was carrying. Kosal reached the street the building dwelt on and stopped outside the entrance of the jewelers’ shop.
The shop itself had been converted so that the upstairs level served as a single-floor home, while the lower level was the maintained shop. The current recipient presently resided on the upper floor, and although he owned the whole building, he was in the beginning stages of selling the property, as indicated by the sign outside. This was where the advantageous fence believed his opportunity could be found. He would appear as a saving grace, coming out of the night to rescue his friend’s dwindling business.
The knock came loudly and Kosal waited patiently, he knew the man would be in. A few moments passed before he heard the hurried shuffling of footsteps coming down the stairs. Kosal heard the distinct ‘clinking’ sound of an opening peep-hole before the louder ‘clunks’ of the unlocking door.
“Kosal?... What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night!” The merchant was human, and adorned in bed-wear. He appeared as a man just dragged from his bed-rest.
“Bryce my dear friend! I know it’s late but this couldn’t wait believe me- you’ll be relieved I disturbed you tonight once you hear what I have to say.” Kosal had his sales-pitch voice on, while his face beamed with that less-than-genuine smile.
“This better be good. If this is just about some more crap you’re trying to fence, it can wait until morning.” It appeared Bryce was no virgin to Kosal’s general conduct, as he looked down at the pile of domestic treasures Kosal was carrying.
“Bryce I have a proposition that’s going to save your business!”
“It’s going to take a bit more than a few stolen candlesticks to save my livelihood this time Vithu.” The jeweler would need some genuine convincing it seemed. Kosal continued to grin before taking a confident step forward over the merchant’s threshold. Placing his hand on Bryce’s back, Kosal led the man back into the building as he spoke.
“Wait until you hear about the evening I’ve had… let’s open that bottle of whiskey you keep tucked away… don’t give me that face, I know you still have it. You’re going to want to celebrate tonight believe me!... Oh and Bryce, I need to get a message out to Liana tonight. It’s important. Let’s get her round here as well. I’ve got a bit of work lined up for her.”
Kosal did not make any inclination towards the price of the loan one way or the other; he had a figure in mind for the return he believed he could make on this rental and presumably he would make a profit on it. At the mention of homework his expression did turn somewhat sour.
“I dropped out of school.” This was the only retort he gave after rolling his eyes. It was not a position he liked being in; it seemed to Kosal that payment of his debt towards Bosie’s generosity would be to play up to her power games. Her dominating personality no-doubt stemmed from some inferiority complex, brought about by her diminutive stature… at least that is what Kosal supposed, through his frustration. He wondered if all gnomes who ambled through human society contracted such dispositions over time; Kosal himself was not tall after all, at least not by human standards. Perhaps that was why he held a greater tolerance for the company of the little folk.
“Very well… you will have your report ms Vaporgate.” Kosal nodded politely towards Bosie and then Myrna in turn before collecting up the lent belongings and making his way towards the door and out into the night.
Unfortunately for him, Kosal’s evening had only just begun, he had a lot yet to do due to the deadlines enforced upon him, and he would have to pay more than he liked for the speed required. Kosal continued on towards his intended destination, the home of his trader contact with the failing business- a jeweler who had fallen on hard times.
The time taken to reach his destination passed on uneventfully but took Kosal longer than it should have due to the haul he was carrying. Kosal reached the street the building dwelt on and stopped outside the entrance of the jewelers’ shop.
The shop itself had been converted so that the upstairs level served as a single-floor home, while the lower level was the maintained shop. The current recipient presently resided on the upper floor, and although he owned the whole building, he was in the beginning stages of selling the property, as indicated by the sign outside. This was where the advantageous fence believed his opportunity could be found. He would appear as a saving grace, coming out of the night to rescue his friend’s dwindling business.
The knock came loudly and Kosal waited patiently, he knew the man would be in. A few moments passed before he heard the hurried shuffling of footsteps coming down the stairs. Kosal heard the distinct ‘clinking’ sound of an opening peep-hole before the louder ‘clunks’ of the unlocking door.
“Kosal?... What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night!” The merchant was human, and adorned in bed-wear. He appeared as a man just dragged from his bed-rest.
“Bryce my dear friend! I know it’s late but this couldn’t wait believe me- you’ll be relieved I disturbed you tonight once you hear what I have to say.” Kosal had his sales-pitch voice on, while his face beamed with that less-than-genuine smile.
“This better be good. If this is just about some more crap you’re trying to fence, it can wait until morning.” It appeared Bryce was no virgin to Kosal’s general conduct, as he looked down at the pile of domestic treasures Kosal was carrying.
“Bryce I have a proposition that’s going to save your business!”
“It’s going to take a bit more than a few stolen candlesticks to save my livelihood this time Vithu.” The jeweler would need some genuine convincing it seemed. Kosal continued to grin before taking a confident step forward over the merchant’s threshold. Placing his hand on Bryce’s back, Kosal led the man back into the building as he spoke.
“Wait until you hear about the evening I’ve had… let’s open that bottle of whiskey you keep tucked away… don’t give me that face, I know you still have it. You’re going to want to celebrate tonight believe me!... Oh and Bryce, I need to get a message out to Liana tonight. It’s important. Let’s get her round here as well. I’ve got a bit of work lined up for her.”
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Morning in the Vaporgate household came and went not unlike any other.
Myrna and Rigley had stayed up long after their visitor had left--she, to peek out from behind the drawn curtains and make eyes at men passing by under the oily street light, and he, to pick obsessively at specks of dust around the house and occasionally turn a long spell at the mirror to admire his jaundiced looks. As usual, they squabbled over the rules of their dominoes game, and as usual, Buoyansie slept through their noise.
Bosie rose hours before her children and had her usual early breakfast of cold, strong chicory tea and hot cereal porridge. She made her rounds to a few households that some would consider within her "jurisdiction"--mostly gnomes families on the opposite side of the poverty line, and a few humans whom Bosie liked to regularly remind of their obligations to be neighborly--and returned home to pore through a manageable, yet never-ending stack of documents.
By lunchtime Myrna and Rigley were rolling out of bed. Bosie took great pleasure in arguing with them over what they should wear each day, and indeed great delight in eventually capitulating. In the end, the girl looked something like a domesticated changeling gypsy, and the boy like a latchkey adult.
When Bosie went out that afternoon, she took Rigley with her. Myrna stayed at home to fuss with the drumbox, attempting to crank out even more implausible beats.
Bosie picked a meandering route around the neighborhood. She would normally have walked at twice the speed, but she was dragging the reluctant man child around with her. She had selected her path carefully, so as not to pass directly by the venue Kosal had written down the night before.
"Moms, when are we done?" the boy whined. He was being forced to stay by Bosie's side, since she had apparently decided he wasn't to be trusted alone.
She squeezed his hand in reply and continued walking, with no particular destination in mind. Occasionally they would encounter direct acquaintances, who would exchange pleasantries--or tense greetings--with the gnome. Nobody had yet had anything to say about the new pawn shop in the neighborhood. She would know when they were done with their errand, but she didn't know when that would be.
Myrna and Rigley had stayed up long after their visitor had left--she, to peek out from behind the drawn curtains and make eyes at men passing by under the oily street light, and he, to pick obsessively at specks of dust around the house and occasionally turn a long spell at the mirror to admire his jaundiced looks. As usual, they squabbled over the rules of their dominoes game, and as usual, Buoyansie slept through their noise.
Bosie rose hours before her children and had her usual early breakfast of cold, strong chicory tea and hot cereal porridge. She made her rounds to a few households that some would consider within her "jurisdiction"--mostly gnomes families on the opposite side of the poverty line, and a few humans whom Bosie liked to regularly remind of their obligations to be neighborly--and returned home to pore through a manageable, yet never-ending stack of documents.
By lunchtime Myrna and Rigley were rolling out of bed. Bosie took great pleasure in arguing with them over what they should wear each day, and indeed great delight in eventually capitulating. In the end, the girl looked something like a domesticated changeling gypsy, and the boy like a latchkey adult.
When Bosie went out that afternoon, she took Rigley with her. Myrna stayed at home to fuss with the drumbox, attempting to crank out even more implausible beats.
Bosie picked a meandering route around the neighborhood. She would normally have walked at twice the speed, but she was dragging the reluctant man child around with her. She had selected her path carefully, so as not to pass directly by the venue Kosal had written down the night before.
"Moms, when are we done?" the boy whined. He was being forced to stay by Bosie's side, since she had apparently decided he wasn't to be trusted alone.
She squeezed his hand in reply and continued walking, with no particular destination in mind. Occasionally they would encounter direct acquaintances, who would exchange pleasantries--or tense greetings--with the gnome. Nobody had yet had anything to say about the new pawn shop in the neighborhood. She would know when they were done with their errand, but she didn't know when that would be.
Re: The Arrangement
Kosal started as he awoke suddenly from his vivid, alcohol-fuelled dream. He was relieved to discover that there was not in actual fact a crossbow bolt aimed at his cranium once again. It took him a moment to recall where he was and why he had awoken on a stiff couch with a dry throat and a throbbing skull. The empty bottle and glasses littered about the floor of his surroundings, lent a helping indicative jog to his memory.
It was nearly midday already, Kosal guessed as he looked through the open curtained window. His host was nowhere in sight, but Kosal had assumed as much from the fired-up excitement which he had stirred in the man the night before. Kosal was quite happy to let his new business partner go to work while Kosal worked on curing his hangover.
The morning’s copy of the Daily Tattler, resting on the lounge table caught his eye and with some effort, he pried himself from the couch and begrudgingly meandered over to have a quick flick through. There was an article about last night’s fight, which was no surprise. Kosal laughed at the short-quote responses given by the bar-tender.
“That’s right Fueller; don’t give them anything to work with.” At that point the door to the lounge opened and in strode an eager-looking Bryce.
“You’re finally up then! Come down you gotta have a look at this place. They just finished putting the new sign up.” The ex-jeweler could hardly contain his enthusiasm.
“You better not have spent all that Bishani yet Bryce; we’re going to need a hefty chunk of it.” Kosal’s patience for any kind of enthusiasm was limited by his current headache. Bryce seemed far too thrilled at the prospect of saving his livelihood to respond, in any case. Kosal followed the man downstairs to the shop floor; he could see he had been busy. The floor layout had changed dramatically and Bryce had already set out all of the belongings Kosal had borrowed from Bosie, along with some of his old stock of jewelry.
“Not bad, not bad at all. This place could pass for a pawn shop after all.” Kosal, despite his own cynical misgivings, needed his associate to be positively committed to the venture if it was going to work.
“Have many people been in yet?”
“Not yet, but you gotta give it some time y’know… let the word spread.”
“Oh shit! That reminds me. Leave that to me Bryce… you carry on, I won’t be long.” With that, Kosal exited the shop and began walking down the street. He scanned through the various crowds of citizens going about their day-to-day business as he walked. Kosal took a look back over his shoulder at the shop front. It looked like Bryce had given the place a clean over and the new sign mounted on the entrance certainly gave the place a nice credible feel about it. Even so, Kosal really hoped his partner hadn’t pissed away too much on the thing.
‘Tanner & Vithu Pawnbrokers’ the sign read. The memory of the agreed name suddenly came back to him. He wondered how much more he had agreed to last night which had been blocked by his intoxicated memory. At that point, Kosal felt a sudden light brush against him, like a breeze blowing against his coat. He turned around quickly as his hand simultaneously struck out like a coiled snake attacking, to grasp the wrist of a young boy. The boy gasped and looked up into the face of his would-be captor.
“Something I can help you with kid?” Kosal scowled at the boy who looked to be between nine and ten. Then he grinned darkly as the idea dawned on him. Kosal swept back the side of his coat to reveal his coin purse which was nestled nicely on his belt next to the hilt of his rapier, which he did little to conceal from the boy.
“Maybe you could earn that Bishani you were so eager to take.”
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The boy darted about the Business District streets with a refreshed, coin-enhanced vigor. The nice, generous man had said she would not be hard to find despite being small. “She might be wearing a weird pig-snout necklace. And be on the look-out for any gnome woman dragging a girl or a boy… or both, bigger than her. Loud and Bossy. Got that?” The man had seemed quite confident he would find her.
A little time went by and the boy had not seen anyone of Bosie’s description. He was starting to consider cutting his losses and abandoning his search (as well as abandoning the greater half of his reward), when he noticed a female gnome carting around a whining male of human child-like stature. The boy grinned and ran down the street in her general direction shouting at the passers-by.
“NEED SOME INSTANT BISHANI? FORGOTTEN THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE’S BIRTHDAY?...” The boy had cupped his hands around his mouth, in a mock-fashion to amplify his voice.
“TANNER & VITHU PAWNBROKERS HAS JUST OPENNED FOR BUSINESS!” The boy stopped a few feet away from Bosie, not addressing her in particular but rather the general public. Kosal had apparently opted out for subtlety on this particular occasion.
“FOLLOW ME!” The boy turned on his heels and ran back down the road he came. Whether he actually thought anyone would follow or not was beside the point. He had done his job and was off to collect the rest of his payment.
It was nearly midday already, Kosal guessed as he looked through the open curtained window. His host was nowhere in sight, but Kosal had assumed as much from the fired-up excitement which he had stirred in the man the night before. Kosal was quite happy to let his new business partner go to work while Kosal worked on curing his hangover.
The morning’s copy of the Daily Tattler, resting on the lounge table caught his eye and with some effort, he pried himself from the couch and begrudgingly meandered over to have a quick flick through. There was an article about last night’s fight, which was no surprise. Kosal laughed at the short-quote responses given by the bar-tender.
“That’s right Fueller; don’t give them anything to work with.” At that point the door to the lounge opened and in strode an eager-looking Bryce.
“You’re finally up then! Come down you gotta have a look at this place. They just finished putting the new sign up.” The ex-jeweler could hardly contain his enthusiasm.
“You better not have spent all that Bishani yet Bryce; we’re going to need a hefty chunk of it.” Kosal’s patience for any kind of enthusiasm was limited by his current headache. Bryce seemed far too thrilled at the prospect of saving his livelihood to respond, in any case. Kosal followed the man downstairs to the shop floor; he could see he had been busy. The floor layout had changed dramatically and Bryce had already set out all of the belongings Kosal had borrowed from Bosie, along with some of his old stock of jewelry.
“Not bad, not bad at all. This place could pass for a pawn shop after all.” Kosal, despite his own cynical misgivings, needed his associate to be positively committed to the venture if it was going to work.
“Have many people been in yet?”
“Not yet, but you gotta give it some time y’know… let the word spread.”
“Oh shit! That reminds me. Leave that to me Bryce… you carry on, I won’t be long.” With that, Kosal exited the shop and began walking down the street. He scanned through the various crowds of citizens going about their day-to-day business as he walked. Kosal took a look back over his shoulder at the shop front. It looked like Bryce had given the place a clean over and the new sign mounted on the entrance certainly gave the place a nice credible feel about it. Even so, Kosal really hoped his partner hadn’t pissed away too much on the thing.
‘Tanner & Vithu Pawnbrokers’ the sign read. The memory of the agreed name suddenly came back to him. He wondered how much more he had agreed to last night which had been blocked by his intoxicated memory. At that point, Kosal felt a sudden light brush against him, like a breeze blowing against his coat. He turned around quickly as his hand simultaneously struck out like a coiled snake attacking, to grasp the wrist of a young boy. The boy gasped and looked up into the face of his would-be captor.
“Something I can help you with kid?” Kosal scowled at the boy who looked to be between nine and ten. Then he grinned darkly as the idea dawned on him. Kosal swept back the side of his coat to reveal his coin purse which was nestled nicely on his belt next to the hilt of his rapier, which he did little to conceal from the boy.
“Maybe you could earn that Bishani you were so eager to take.”
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The boy darted about the Business District streets with a refreshed, coin-enhanced vigor. The nice, generous man had said she would not be hard to find despite being small. “She might be wearing a weird pig-snout necklace. And be on the look-out for any gnome woman dragging a girl or a boy… or both, bigger than her. Loud and Bossy. Got that?” The man had seemed quite confident he would find her.
A little time went by and the boy had not seen anyone of Bosie’s description. He was starting to consider cutting his losses and abandoning his search (as well as abandoning the greater half of his reward), when he noticed a female gnome carting around a whining male of human child-like stature. The boy grinned and ran down the street in her general direction shouting at the passers-by.
“NEED SOME INSTANT BISHANI? FORGOTTEN THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE’S BIRTHDAY?...” The boy had cupped his hands around his mouth, in a mock-fashion to amplify his voice.
“TANNER & VITHU PAWNBROKERS HAS JUST OPENNED FOR BUSINESS!” The boy stopped a few feet away from Bosie, not addressing her in particular but rather the general public. Kosal had apparently opted out for subtlety on this particular occasion.
“FOLLOW ME!” The boy turned on his heels and ran back down the road he came. Whether he actually thought anyone would follow or not was beside the point. He had done his job and was off to collect the rest of his payment.
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Most of the passers by paid little attention to the little rapscallion of a promoter as he barked about Kosal's new shop. But Bosie paid attention. Her lips tightened in a smile and her eyes narrowed and glittered with intensity as she listened to every bit of it. She made especial note of the other name in the title of the place, and how it came before Kosal's. Perhaps that could get fixed later.
Rigley stared dully after the boy as he ran off--nobody seemed to be following the kid--and opened his mouth a few moments before he actually spoke. "That's where me and Sissy are going tonight for--um."
Bosie glanced up at him and squeezed his hand, and he corrected himself.
"I mean just to drop off the drumbox or whatever." The man child looked down at his frayed cuticles and pouted.
Bosie grinned and blew a raspberry on the underside of his wrist.
* * * * *
All through dinner, Bosie was delightedly distracted. Her nephew Fulcrum had arrived to announce his engagement to his bastard's mother, and had brought along the progeny to appease Bosie into sanctioning the union. She was so busy tickling and spoon-feeding the little creature that she didn't bother wrangling Myrna and Rigley back to the table as they kept wandering off to the parlor. Fulcrum threw a few wary glances towards the foyer as the frenetic sounds of the overcranked drumbox wafted through now and again.
Some time after the sun had set, Bosie went into the parlor to announce it was time for the children to deliver the drumbox. Myrna had dolled herself up in her own way--wine-colored stain on her lips, smears of kohl around her already dark eyelids, an old, discolored ribbon in her hair. Bosie had Fulcrum help them load the heavy box into a wagon and shooed them out the door. "Later, Dumplings!" she called after them. Something about the way she said it seemed to indicate she knew perfectly well that they'd be out late.
Just after his cousins had left, Fulcrum looked awkwardly around the noticeably bare parlor. "What happened to your decorations and things, Auntie Bo. . .?" he asked. Bosie took the baby back from him with glee and merely prattled something about baby-proofing.
From the parlor window, they could see Myrna and Rigley. They were squabbling between themselves as to who would pull the wagon and who would hold the box steady, as they made slow progress in the direction of Kosal's new shop.
Rigley stared dully after the boy as he ran off--nobody seemed to be following the kid--and opened his mouth a few moments before he actually spoke. "That's where me and Sissy are going tonight for--um."
Bosie glanced up at him and squeezed his hand, and he corrected himself.
"I mean just to drop off the drumbox or whatever." The man child looked down at his frayed cuticles and pouted.
Bosie grinned and blew a raspberry on the underside of his wrist.
* * * * *
All through dinner, Bosie was delightedly distracted. Her nephew Fulcrum had arrived to announce his engagement to his bastard's mother, and had brought along the progeny to appease Bosie into sanctioning the union. She was so busy tickling and spoon-feeding the little creature that she didn't bother wrangling Myrna and Rigley back to the table as they kept wandering off to the parlor. Fulcrum threw a few wary glances towards the foyer as the frenetic sounds of the overcranked drumbox wafted through now and again.
Some time after the sun had set, Bosie went into the parlor to announce it was time for the children to deliver the drumbox. Myrna had dolled herself up in her own way--wine-colored stain on her lips, smears of kohl around her already dark eyelids, an old, discolored ribbon in her hair. Bosie had Fulcrum help them load the heavy box into a wagon and shooed them out the door. "Later, Dumplings!" she called after them. Something about the way she said it seemed to indicate she knew perfectly well that they'd be out late.
Just after his cousins had left, Fulcrum looked awkwardly around the noticeably bare parlor. "What happened to your decorations and things, Auntie Bo. . .?" he asked. Bosie took the baby back from him with glee and merely prattled something about baby-proofing.
From the parlor window, they could see Myrna and Rigley. They were squabbling between themselves as to who would pull the wagon and who would hold the box steady, as they made slow progress in the direction of Kosal's new shop.
Re: The Arrangement
The early evening was beginning to draw in when the two pawnbrokers decided it was about time to close up shop and commence preparations for the evening arrangements. Kosal had spent the majority of the day, (the half he was awake for in any case) working on his own preparations while he allowed his partner Bryce to work the shop. He had gone to meet with some friends and acquaintances to spread the word about their party, as well as see what assortment of distasteful and questionable substances he could scrounge. His prize substance had yet to arrive and this was causing him some concern. Not for the wellbeing of his smuggler necessarily, more for the security of his product.
“I’m going to make sure we have enough booze.” Kosal started to make his way upstairs to where they were planning on hosting the little gathering.
“Yeah I bet you are. That’s fine! I’ll tidy up down here. Don’t bother giving me a hand.” Kosal had ensured his presence was made clear in the shop during the day, and he had turned on his sales pitch to serve a number of customers, however he had let Bryce manage the shop for the vast majority of the time. Bryce knew about Kosal’s other interests of course and they had agreed that he would need to continue his other work in order to bring in some extra revenue.
Kosal took a look around the second story floor. The humble house-conversion had all the basic amenities an inhabitant would need and although it was not a large space, Kosal believed it would be fit enough to host his guests. The lounge had a selection of alcoholic beverages coating the table, and Kosal knew a few of his guests would be bringing their own respective taste in drugs. For those that weren’t, he had sourced a limited range of psychoactive weeds and tablets which he intended to sell.
Kosal turned as he heard the lounge door opening and saw a woman standing in the doorway. She was adorned in a mud-coated gardening apron, which seemed designed to cover the rest of her peasantry attire. Upon her head she wore a dirty bonnet which concealed a bundle of blonde hair. Despite her rural-like appearance, a sly glint in her eye and a savvy grin gave her away to her current audience.
“Liana! You had me worried.” The relief on Kosal’s face overshadowed any annoyance he might have felt for the woman’s tardiness.
“Well you didn’ give me a lot of time did ya Kosal?”
“I think I paid you enough for the fast delivery though.”
“That ya did, an’ here it is!... Listen Kosal, ya gotta go talk to them boys up there, ‘cause ‘parently He’s puttin’ pressure on ‘em not to trade with you. You don’t want that, and I don’t want that, ‘cause it’ll put me outta’ business for one thing.” Kosal took the sack containing his valuable acquisition, staring intently at it. He could already pick up the slightest hints of the Night-Cap’s sweet aroma. Kosal did not need to open the bag to check its contents, he could sense the potent magical drug within, whether he realised this outwardly or not.
“Yeah I thought as much… I’m working on it. So you wanna’ hang around for the after-party?” Kosal asked, lost in thought. The smuggler snorted in response.
“I know the kinda’ sleazy parties you like. Forget it. Knowin’ you, you’re probably chargin’ an entrance fee.” Kosal laughed knowingly at this remark. In actual fact he was charging an admission for some of his guests. This was how he intended to make money on the drumbox.
The evening rolled on and several guests began staggering in. Bryce remained downstairs on the shop floor to permit entrance; although in truth, he wanted to keep an eye on stock levels. He knew the sort of unsavoury types Kosal associated with when he was not pretending to be a respectable tradesman. Bryce was under no illusion; he knew that more than one of them would not shy away from an opportunity to pilfer some of their merchandise.
Kosal greeted the guests upstairs by taking their admittance fees and graciously offering them drinks, along with the opportunity to procure some of his other wares.
It appeared that most of their visitors had arrived. The company consisted of humans and predominantly male humans, a few of whom it seemed had brought along girlfriends of some description; although with this sort of squalid crowd, it was difficult to tell exactly what arrangements they held with their respective escorts.
The guests mingled between each other as they waited for the main attraction to appear. Most of the company were already acquainted it seemed. Drug rings, career criminals, petty thieves. A nice little collection of some of Marn’s undesirables.
“I’m going to make sure we have enough booze.” Kosal started to make his way upstairs to where they were planning on hosting the little gathering.
“Yeah I bet you are. That’s fine! I’ll tidy up down here. Don’t bother giving me a hand.” Kosal had ensured his presence was made clear in the shop during the day, and he had turned on his sales pitch to serve a number of customers, however he had let Bryce manage the shop for the vast majority of the time. Bryce knew about Kosal’s other interests of course and they had agreed that he would need to continue his other work in order to bring in some extra revenue.
Kosal took a look around the second story floor. The humble house-conversion had all the basic amenities an inhabitant would need and although it was not a large space, Kosal believed it would be fit enough to host his guests. The lounge had a selection of alcoholic beverages coating the table, and Kosal knew a few of his guests would be bringing their own respective taste in drugs. For those that weren’t, he had sourced a limited range of psychoactive weeds and tablets which he intended to sell.
Kosal turned as he heard the lounge door opening and saw a woman standing in the doorway. She was adorned in a mud-coated gardening apron, which seemed designed to cover the rest of her peasantry attire. Upon her head she wore a dirty bonnet which concealed a bundle of blonde hair. Despite her rural-like appearance, a sly glint in her eye and a savvy grin gave her away to her current audience.
“Liana! You had me worried.” The relief on Kosal’s face overshadowed any annoyance he might have felt for the woman’s tardiness.
“Well you didn’ give me a lot of time did ya Kosal?”
“I think I paid you enough for the fast delivery though.”
“That ya did, an’ here it is!... Listen Kosal, ya gotta go talk to them boys up there, ‘cause ‘parently He’s puttin’ pressure on ‘em not to trade with you. You don’t want that, and I don’t want that, ‘cause it’ll put me outta’ business for one thing.” Kosal took the sack containing his valuable acquisition, staring intently at it. He could already pick up the slightest hints of the Night-Cap’s sweet aroma. Kosal did not need to open the bag to check its contents, he could sense the potent magical drug within, whether he realised this outwardly or not.
“Yeah I thought as much… I’m working on it. So you wanna’ hang around for the after-party?” Kosal asked, lost in thought. The smuggler snorted in response.
“I know the kinda’ sleazy parties you like. Forget it. Knowin’ you, you’re probably chargin’ an entrance fee.” Kosal laughed knowingly at this remark. In actual fact he was charging an admission for some of his guests. This was how he intended to make money on the drumbox.
The evening rolled on and several guests began staggering in. Bryce remained downstairs on the shop floor to permit entrance; although in truth, he wanted to keep an eye on stock levels. He knew the sort of unsavoury types Kosal associated with when he was not pretending to be a respectable tradesman. Bryce was under no illusion; he knew that more than one of them would not shy away from an opportunity to pilfer some of their merchandise.
Kosal greeted the guests upstairs by taking their admittance fees and graciously offering them drinks, along with the opportunity to procure some of his other wares.
It appeared that most of their visitors had arrived. The company consisted of humans and predominantly male humans, a few of whom it seemed had brought along girlfriends of some description; although with this sort of squalid crowd, it was difficult to tell exactly what arrangements they held with their respective escorts.
The guests mingled between each other as they waited for the main attraction to appear. Most of the company were already acquainted it seemed. Drug rings, career criminals, petty thieves. A nice little collection of some of Marn’s undesirables.
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
When the Vaporgate children arrived at Kosal's new shop, there was little activity outside or even downstairs in the shop that would indicate the number of people already milling around at the upstairs party. This was probably, in fact, because most of them had already arrived and were pleasantly confined in the party space. There was no outside loitering to speak of.
Rigley had been pulling the handle of the wagon; Myrna had obliged to walk behind and steady the drumbox once she realized this gave her more chance to make eyes and waggle her hips at men who were on their way home. When they pulled up outside the shop, Myrna crowed at Rigley to stop--he had either not been paying attention to the storefront signs, or perhaps couldn't read them too well.
He promptly dropped the handle of the wagon and pressed his slouching spine up against the outside wall of the place, prepared to sulk after the tiresome trip of a few blocks. That was, until Myrna muttered something about booze while peering through the shop's window. Then he perked up and pressed his nose against the glass as well.
The girl scratched her nails against the window--a sort of impatient, doglike skittering sound--and waved to the unknown man inside. She did sort of recognize him. The surname Tanner did seem to fit vaguely into her memory, but she couldn't (and couldn't be bothered to) piece together whether she associated that name with a woman she'd had a catfight with, or a man she had slept with. Beside her, Rigley gesticulated with more enthusiasm than he would usually manage cumulatively in a whole day, pointing with one hand at the drumbox, and miming drinking a jug of beer with the other.
Rigley had been pulling the handle of the wagon; Myrna had obliged to walk behind and steady the drumbox once she realized this gave her more chance to make eyes and waggle her hips at men who were on their way home. When they pulled up outside the shop, Myrna crowed at Rigley to stop--he had either not been paying attention to the storefront signs, or perhaps couldn't read them too well.
He promptly dropped the handle of the wagon and pressed his slouching spine up against the outside wall of the place, prepared to sulk after the tiresome trip of a few blocks. That was, until Myrna muttered something about booze while peering through the shop's window. Then he perked up and pressed his nose against the glass as well.
The girl scratched her nails against the window--a sort of impatient, doglike skittering sound--and waved to the unknown man inside. She did sort of recognize him. The surname Tanner did seem to fit vaguely into her memory, but she couldn't (and couldn't be bothered to) piece together whether she associated that name with a woman she'd had a catfight with, or a man she had slept with. Beside her, Rigley gesticulated with more enthusiasm than he would usually manage cumulatively in a whole day, pointing with one hand at the drumbox, and miming drinking a jug of beer with the other.
Re: The Arrangement
The shop keeper Bryce Tanner peered through the glass as he heard the scratching at his window. He stared at the girl through squinted eyes for a moment before turning his attention towards the boy practicing his fictitious drinking skills. The man’s gaze followed Rigley’s directing finger towards its intended destination as a surge of understanding flooded through the man’s face. This must be the instrument.
Bryce unhinged a bolt on the door before opening it to permit the two couriers entrance. He looked quickly from one face to the other before returning his attention to the drumbox they were carting.
“I’m Bryce. Everyone’s upstairs already.” He began making his way towards the drumbox. “Here let me give you a hand with this.” The shop keeper helped the two half-gnome’s move the drumbox inside. Once they were through the door, Bryce hollered to lower it to the floor, to which he then proceeded to re-bolt the entrance. He resumed his effort to lift the instrument once more as they hauled the box upstairs.
* * *
Kosal was engaged in conversation when the trio emerged. It appeared he was being berated by one particularly haggard looking man, taking heavy swills from a strongly pungent mug. The man was larger in both height and girth to Kosal and looked to be much older than him as well, however judging from the scarlet hue of burst blood vessels which embellished his scored face, the man could well have been younger then he appeared.
“Who d’you think you’re fooling Vithu?” The man teased in a mock-tone, the volume of which was only exaggerated by his current inebriated condition. “Talking like some refined gentleman.” An excess spillage fell from the man’s mug as he imitated an inflated prance to his limited audience. “Thinks he’s some civilised trader now! S’if you’re anything but a swindler!” He snorted.
“And yet you still come to me to fence your gear Gil. Wonder why that is?” Kosal, who was well into his third drink of the evening, was not about to let himself be put down by a subordinate. He took a swig from his tumbler just as he noticed Bryce, Myrna and Rigley with the drumbox. His eyes danced across the rim of his glass towards Myrna as he grinned.
“Excuse me gentlemen.” Kosal left his current clique to make his way towards the new throng. As he addressed the two siblings, his attention scarcely faltered from the girl. “And good evening! Welcome to our little shin-dig. Drinks are over there on the table, please help yourselves. Um, Myrna – wasn’t it? Let me give you a hand with this, we’ll move it over there.” Kosal waved his hand vaguely over his shoulder. “Bryce, why don’t you make sure her brother here finds a drink.”
Kosal’s request was met by a raised eyebrow from his business partner before he conceded. “Sure… this way.”
Bryce unhinged a bolt on the door before opening it to permit the two couriers entrance. He looked quickly from one face to the other before returning his attention to the drumbox they were carting.
“I’m Bryce. Everyone’s upstairs already.” He began making his way towards the drumbox. “Here let me give you a hand with this.” The shop keeper helped the two half-gnome’s move the drumbox inside. Once they were through the door, Bryce hollered to lower it to the floor, to which he then proceeded to re-bolt the entrance. He resumed his effort to lift the instrument once more as they hauled the box upstairs.
* * *
Kosal was engaged in conversation when the trio emerged. It appeared he was being berated by one particularly haggard looking man, taking heavy swills from a strongly pungent mug. The man was larger in both height and girth to Kosal and looked to be much older than him as well, however judging from the scarlet hue of burst blood vessels which embellished his scored face, the man could well have been younger then he appeared.
“Who d’you think you’re fooling Vithu?” The man teased in a mock-tone, the volume of which was only exaggerated by his current inebriated condition. “Talking like some refined gentleman.” An excess spillage fell from the man’s mug as he imitated an inflated prance to his limited audience. “Thinks he’s some civilised trader now! S’if you’re anything but a swindler!” He snorted.
“And yet you still come to me to fence your gear Gil. Wonder why that is?” Kosal, who was well into his third drink of the evening, was not about to let himself be put down by a subordinate. He took a swig from his tumbler just as he noticed Bryce, Myrna and Rigley with the drumbox. His eyes danced across the rim of his glass towards Myrna as he grinned.
“Excuse me gentlemen.” Kosal left his current clique to make his way towards the new throng. As he addressed the two siblings, his attention scarcely faltered from the girl. “And good evening! Welcome to our little shin-dig. Drinks are over there on the table, please help yourselves. Um, Myrna – wasn’t it? Let me give you a hand with this, we’ll move it over there.” Kosal waved his hand vaguely over his shoulder. “Bryce, why don’t you make sure her brother here finds a drink.”
Kosal’s request was met by a raised eyebrow from his business partner before he conceded. “Sure… this way.”
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Myrna and Rigley reached the landing just after Bryce, and just in time to hear the tail end of a less than cordial conversation between Kosal and one of his guests. Lacking their mother's perspicacity, however, neither was keen to exert much effort deciphering the situation. While both had, in their own way, inherited Bosie's manipulative nature, they simply didn't have the smarts to leverage some opportunities.
Sister and brother both knew very well how to get what they wanted out of a party, at least, and before their eyes had quite adjusted to the haze, they were eagerly scanning the perimeter for refreshments and company.
Myrna put on a cheeky smile for Kosal when he drew near and waved daintily, in the manner of a debutante at a formal reception. Another of Bosie's predilections that Myrna had inherited was her penchant for men who were far too big for her--she looked past Kosal for a few moments as she tried to catch the eye of the large oaf he'd been chatting with.
Rigley scooted off with Bryce as ordered, only because drink had been promised. He rubbed the back of his neck and gazed at the cuffs of Bryce's trousers as they moseyed over to table. "I'll get shy if I don't have a drink," he mumbled. When he lifted his head and looked at Bryce from beneath lowered eyelids, it was hard to tell whether he was being coy or just mopey.
Myrna had failed to catch the attention of the derelict named Gil, so she smiled full force at Kosal again. "So!" she said, a bit later than necessary. "there's thaaat." She looked down at the drumbox and made no move to lend a hand with it. Instead, she put her hands on the small of her back, puffed out her thin chest a little, and swung her hips back and forth in a gesture of idleness and uselessness.
Sister and brother both knew very well how to get what they wanted out of a party, at least, and before their eyes had quite adjusted to the haze, they were eagerly scanning the perimeter for refreshments and company.
Myrna put on a cheeky smile for Kosal when he drew near and waved daintily, in the manner of a debutante at a formal reception. Another of Bosie's predilections that Myrna had inherited was her penchant for men who were far too big for her--she looked past Kosal for a few moments as she tried to catch the eye of the large oaf he'd been chatting with.
Rigley scooted off with Bryce as ordered, only because drink had been promised. He rubbed the back of his neck and gazed at the cuffs of Bryce's trousers as they moseyed over to table. "I'll get shy if I don't have a drink," he mumbled. When he lifted his head and looked at Bryce from beneath lowered eyelids, it was hard to tell whether he was being coy or just mopey.
Myrna had failed to catch the attention of the derelict named Gil, so she smiled full force at Kosal again. "So!" she said, a bit later than necessary. "there's thaaat." She looked down at the drumbox and made no move to lend a hand with it. Instead, she put her hands on the small of her back, puffed out her thin chest a little, and swung her hips back and forth in a gesture of idleness and uselessness.
Re: The Arrangement
Bryce looked down at the boy loitering behind him as they approached the table housing the selection of drinks. An involuntary elevation of the man’s nostrils as he spoke down to the boy, might have suggested a subconscious aversion for the half-human, half-gnome male before him. The boy’s timidity hardly seemed to trouble Bryce.
“Yeah, help yourself. We’ve got ales, a bit of rum, some whiskey and a few other choice spirits – which I wouldn’t recommend.” Bryce tilted his head distantly to the side as if trying to make some assessment as he beheld Rigley properly for the first time. He went on without giving much more concern towards Rigley’s drink selection.
“Kosal said you’re a half-gnome? How’s that…? I mean, how old are you exactly then?”
Meanwhile, Kosal – realising Myrna’s lack of interest in helping to move the drumbox – let out an awkward laugh as if suddenly struck by some mild embarrassment. He looked down at the device and decided he did not want to try moving it himself. It looked heavy. Instead he resigned himself to crouching down in order to inspect the device closer. Kosal took a quick swig from his drinking vessel before he reached out delicately to begin turning the handle, testing it himself. He snorted shrewdly as the gadget produced its sound.
“One of a kind.” The remark was made idly before he seemed to address Myrna again. “How long does it do that for? Do you have to keep turning it?” Kosal, being either reluctant or far too fascinated by his latest rental acquisition, made no inclination towards payment.
“Yeah, help yourself. We’ve got ales, a bit of rum, some whiskey and a few other choice spirits – which I wouldn’t recommend.” Bryce tilted his head distantly to the side as if trying to make some assessment as he beheld Rigley properly for the first time. He went on without giving much more concern towards Rigley’s drink selection.
“Kosal said you’re a half-gnome? How’s that…? I mean, how old are you exactly then?”
Meanwhile, Kosal – realising Myrna’s lack of interest in helping to move the drumbox – let out an awkward laugh as if suddenly struck by some mild embarrassment. He looked down at the device and decided he did not want to try moving it himself. It looked heavy. Instead he resigned himself to crouching down in order to inspect the device closer. Kosal took a quick swig from his drinking vessel before he reached out delicately to begin turning the handle, testing it himself. He snorted shrewdly as the gadget produced its sound.
“One of a kind.” The remark was made idly before he seemed to address Myrna again. “How long does it do that for? Do you have to keep turning it?” Kosal, being either reluctant or far too fascinated by his latest rental acquisition, made no inclination towards payment.
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Rigley gave a childlike, crimped sort of smile as Bryce listed off several varieties of alcohol. The twinkle in his eye suggested he'd very much like to sample each, whether they came recommended or not. After waggling his fingers this way and that over the arrangement of bottles and casks on the table, he picked up the murkiest looking rum he could see, and a horn cup with a sticky residue in the bottom and an orangeish lipstick stain on the rim.
Bryce asked him an odd question about his personal provenance, which for a moment so befuddled him that he actually set down his cup. "Oh, you know. . ." he said slowly, his gaze unfocused. "Boy, girl. . ." After trailing off for a moment, Rigley gave Bryce a pointed look and jabbed his index finger a few times into the open mouth of the rum bottle, for illustrative purposes. He licked his finger, and after a few moments' pause, gave an awkward grimace. "Cesarean. . ."
He swiftly poured himself a drink after saying that, and practically lapped at it (and managed to lick up the lipstick stain as he drank). "Yeah, I'm like. . ." He looked at Bryce's trouser cuffs again and rubbed his own cheek, where a five o'clock shadow might be if he weren't endowed with such cherubic youth. "I'm like not that old, you know? Like f. . .firrrty."
Myrna filled her hands with fistfuls of skirt as she obliged to kneel down alongside Kosal--the garment really was a bit too big for her, as perhaps it was difficult to find things to fit her petite frame.
"Oh yeah, it'll go like. . . six, seven minutes? If you crank it all the way." She swirled her index finger round and round to demonstrate. "Used to be it'd go less time if you set it to a faster beat? But I think my uncles fixed that, or something." The girl seemed simultaneously boastful and somehow bored. This combination manifested her personality pretty succinctly--she liked the attention given to the object that was associated with her family, but was annoyed that this small talk was taking the place of a more active form of attention.
She stood up abruptly and lifted her foot from the floor to poke at one of the levers with her moccasined toe. "You change it with these dials and levers and stuff, the beat. Aaand, you should put it up somewhere like on a table, for the um, reson. . . um, the sound."
"Then," she shook her skirts down and cast her dusky gaze around the room, "people can dance."
Bryce asked him an odd question about his personal provenance, which for a moment so befuddled him that he actually set down his cup. "Oh, you know. . ." he said slowly, his gaze unfocused. "Boy, girl. . ." After trailing off for a moment, Rigley gave Bryce a pointed look and jabbed his index finger a few times into the open mouth of the rum bottle, for illustrative purposes. He licked his finger, and after a few moments' pause, gave an awkward grimace. "Cesarean. . ."
He swiftly poured himself a drink after saying that, and practically lapped at it (and managed to lick up the lipstick stain as he drank). "Yeah, I'm like. . ." He looked at Bryce's trouser cuffs again and rubbed his own cheek, where a five o'clock shadow might be if he weren't endowed with such cherubic youth. "I'm like not that old, you know? Like f. . .firrrty."
Myrna filled her hands with fistfuls of skirt as she obliged to kneel down alongside Kosal--the garment really was a bit too big for her, as perhaps it was difficult to find things to fit her petite frame.
"Oh yeah, it'll go like. . . six, seven minutes? If you crank it all the way." She swirled her index finger round and round to demonstrate. "Used to be it'd go less time if you set it to a faster beat? But I think my uncles fixed that, or something." The girl seemed simultaneously boastful and somehow bored. This combination manifested her personality pretty succinctly--she liked the attention given to the object that was associated with her family, but was annoyed that this small talk was taking the place of a more active form of attention.
She stood up abruptly and lifted her foot from the floor to poke at one of the levers with her moccasined toe. "You change it with these dials and levers and stuff, the beat. Aaand, you should put it up somewhere like on a table, for the um, reson. . . um, the sound."
"Then," she shook her skirts down and cast her dusky gaze around the room, "people can dance."
Re: The Arrangement
The astounded expression on Bryce’s face as he witnessed Rigley’s crude, pseudo-educational demonstration could perhaps only have appeared more horrified if the boy had asked him to use his own finger as a prop. He did not know if he should have felt either shocked or irritated by the fact that he was being given sexual-tutoring by a juvenile half-breed. Besides, how intercourse was achieved, was hardly what he had meant before deciding against finishing his question. Then the answer had come whether he meant to ask for it or not. Bryce did not feel comforted by the response either; in fact he wished he had not approached the subject at all. Had he thought about it, the humble shop keeper probably could have discerned this information himself. A caesarean. Well Kosal had mentioned to him that it was the mother who was the gnome after all.
Bryce scrunched up his lips and gave a very half-hearted nod. While to some – the thought of a miniature woman, cradling an oversized newborn infant, may have appeared quite humorous – to Bryce, the idea was nauseating. At the mention of Rigley’s age however, he could not stop his overzealous outburst.
“What? You’re thirty?” Bryce regarded this no-longer-a-boy with some doubt as he felt an odd sensation that some reassessment of positions should apparently be made. If this revelation were true, then the gnome was – albeit only just – older than him.
“I’m twenty-nine, and you’re saying you’re older than me? Do you look so young because of your, you know – mother or something?” Apparently interspecies relationships were not one of Bryce’s strong points.
Kosal did not share in this aversion. He watched Myrna jabbing her foot at the lever, picking up on a somewhat sulky boredom in her tone of voice. Kosal lifted himself from his knees, smiling at her. He turned his head around to glance over at his previous entourage and called a couple of them over, including the larger man Gil. He relayed quick instructions to move the drumbox over onto a side near the far right wall of the room. “And for fuck’s sake be careful with it.” It appeared neither of the men wanted to argue with Kosal this time, perhaps they had considered their last exchange to be a perceived threat on what would have been a loose employment.
Kosal – as if to resume some faux-nobility – took Myrna’s hand and ensured that his full attention was on her again before he spoke.
“Would you like to dance?” He was almost pulling her towards the space around the drumbox before she could answer. One of the men – the less oafish of the two had begun to work the instrument as instructed. As the music began, the majority of the company turned their attention towards the source of the sound.
Bryce scrunched up his lips and gave a very half-hearted nod. While to some – the thought of a miniature woman, cradling an oversized newborn infant, may have appeared quite humorous – to Bryce, the idea was nauseating. At the mention of Rigley’s age however, he could not stop his overzealous outburst.
“What? You’re thirty?” Bryce regarded this no-longer-a-boy with some doubt as he felt an odd sensation that some reassessment of positions should apparently be made. If this revelation were true, then the gnome was – albeit only just – older than him.
“I’m twenty-nine, and you’re saying you’re older than me? Do you look so young because of your, you know – mother or something?” Apparently interspecies relationships were not one of Bryce’s strong points.
Kosal did not share in this aversion. He watched Myrna jabbing her foot at the lever, picking up on a somewhat sulky boredom in her tone of voice. Kosal lifted himself from his knees, smiling at her. He turned his head around to glance over at his previous entourage and called a couple of them over, including the larger man Gil. He relayed quick instructions to move the drumbox over onto a side near the far right wall of the room. “And for fuck’s sake be careful with it.” It appeared neither of the men wanted to argue with Kosal this time, perhaps they had considered their last exchange to be a perceived threat on what would have been a loose employment.
Kosal – as if to resume some faux-nobility – took Myrna’s hand and ensured that his full attention was on her again before he spoke.
“Would you like to dance?” He was almost pulling her towards the space around the drumbox before she could answer. One of the men – the less oafish of the two had begun to work the instrument as instructed. As the music began, the majority of the company turned their attention towards the source of the sound.
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Rigley blushed profoundly when Bryce showed such surprise at his age. Clearly, he'd been called out on falsifying his age, claiming to be younger than he was. He tipped a bit more liquor into his cup and averted his gaze to the growing commotion over the drumbox on the other side of the room.
Myrna delighted in all the eyes turning in the direction of her drumbox. When Kosal took her hand, she twisted her torso away so as to glower at him over her shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a coy manner. With her free hand, she swept up the volume of her skirt and flourished it in an arc parallel to her hip.
A skinny, powerfully unwashed female standing there gave a squawk of protest as Myrna's hem brushed against her scabby shins. The equally scabby man who was with her grinned and dragged the skank into the clearing that served as the dance floor. They proceeded to gyrate awkwardly and suggestively to the pulse of the box.
Rigley glanced back to Bryce with a start. He wasn't refusing to believe he was young--he was surprise he was old. The boy reminded himself not to get so drunk as to let it slip that he was actually 45. So pleased with his luck at getting away with this, Rigley began to perhaps lay it on a bit thick.
"Yup, gnome stuff. My sis, now she's old. Old-old." He was turned to watch the dance floor, but he repeatedly peered over at Bryce to gauge his reactions. He set the bottle of rum back down on the table and scratched at the lower part of his tummy. After another glance at Bryce, he scratched up a little higher, allowing his shirt to ride up and expose a few inches of latitude on either side of his belly button. His midsection was at once rather thin, and yet doughy.
If Rigley was hoping that Bryce would like what he saw, he certainly had a fair amount of equally degenerate competition for the man's attention. His sister had begun to dance, in her way. Myrna first sashayed around the small dance floor, treating Kosal as a pivot point. She let him hold her hand intermittently, but it was clear she intended to run the show--her personal show. After sauntering around semi-rhythmically for a minute or two, Myrna planted herself in the center of the dance floor and began to wiggle her hips in little arcs, so that her bottom half somewhat resembled the agitator cylinder in a clothes washer. Her arms, she moved erratically--swishing around above her head one moment, stroking the length of her own torso the next. All the while, she threw fiery glances around to any men who cared to watch. It was no secret that the girl liked being the center of attention--the trickier part was how to become the center of her attention.
Myrna delighted in all the eyes turning in the direction of her drumbox. When Kosal took her hand, she twisted her torso away so as to glower at him over her shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a coy manner. With her free hand, she swept up the volume of her skirt and flourished it in an arc parallel to her hip.
A skinny, powerfully unwashed female standing there gave a squawk of protest as Myrna's hem brushed against her scabby shins. The equally scabby man who was with her grinned and dragged the skank into the clearing that served as the dance floor. They proceeded to gyrate awkwardly and suggestively to the pulse of the box.
Rigley glanced back to Bryce with a start. He wasn't refusing to believe he was young--he was surprise he was old. The boy reminded himself not to get so drunk as to let it slip that he was actually 45. So pleased with his luck at getting away with this, Rigley began to perhaps lay it on a bit thick.
"Yup, gnome stuff. My sis, now she's old. Old-old." He was turned to watch the dance floor, but he repeatedly peered over at Bryce to gauge his reactions. He set the bottle of rum back down on the table and scratched at the lower part of his tummy. After another glance at Bryce, he scratched up a little higher, allowing his shirt to ride up and expose a few inches of latitude on either side of his belly button. His midsection was at once rather thin, and yet doughy.
If Rigley was hoping that Bryce would like what he saw, he certainly had a fair amount of equally degenerate competition for the man's attention. His sister had begun to dance, in her way. Myrna first sashayed around the small dance floor, treating Kosal as a pivot point. She let him hold her hand intermittently, but it was clear she intended to run the show--her personal show. After sauntering around semi-rhythmically for a minute or two, Myrna planted herself in the center of the dance floor and began to wiggle her hips in little arcs, so that her bottom half somewhat resembled the agitator cylinder in a clothes washer. Her arms, she moved erratically--swishing around above her head one moment, stroking the length of her own torso the next. All the while, she threw fiery glances around to any men who cared to watch. It was no secret that the girl liked being the center of attention--the trickier part was how to become the center of her attention.
Re: The Arrangement
Bryces’ attention fell towards the source of the music, watching on as Myrna began rotating around the centre of the floor. He heard Rigley’s words but did not look down at him as he spoke. It appeared that Bryce was having trouble processing this information about age. The girl did not look that old either, maybe the gnome-man was conning him, maybe this was just a funny gag to their sort.
Bryce reached out absent-mindedly for a drink from the table next to him. He picked up the bottle of rum Rigley had just replaced. Bryce brought the bottle up towards his lips before some moment of revelation reached him as he saw what he was about to put into his mouth. His face contorted as he remembered the grubby finger which had penetrated the bottle-hole only moments ago. Bryce looked down at Rigley with an awkward smile and returned the bottle quickly without drinking from it. If Rigley was attempting to catch his attention, it seemed Bryce was genuinely ignorant of any such notion; it was more than likely the thought had never entered his conscious mind.
It seemed Kosal, meanwhile was enjoying himself a great deal more. He tossed back another hefty guzzle from his glass before setting it down to allow full mobility of his arms as the dancing began. Kosal began moving his body to the rhythm of the sound; his movements were slightly more subtle compared with Myrna’s to begin with but as she began using him as a pivot point, wriggling around him, Kosal let his hands dance upon her body, every so often sliding a hand across her hips.
The scene was not turning Bryce on in the slightest. He took hold of a wineskin from the table and turned to walk away.
“Think I might sit down.” He began making his way over towards a sofa on the opposite end of the room. Myrna’s show had clearly enticed others however; one bulbous man was being harassed by his female escort. The spindly woman was caked in a think layer of make-up, which suggested she had dipped her face in a bucket of white paint before smearing a trowel of a dark green across her eyes. She tugged on the man’s swollen arm for a while before he subsided and followed her onto the dance floor.
Another more willing, lone participant made his way over towards Myrna, swinging his arms above his head in a less-than-modest fashion. Judging from the glazed, blasé expression on his face and the odour of weed which emanated from him, the man was clearly high. As he swayed towards Myrna, he spread both his arms and legs wide in a provocative manner, gyrating his pelvis towards her.
Kosal continued dancing next to her for a moment, watching the man before a primordial instinct– brought about through his intoxication, began to kick in. Kosal took hold of Myrna by her forearm and rotated away from the competitor, trying to bring Myrna around to face him, her back facing the man. It was not an overly forceful gesture, but was perhaps more brazen than was normal for him, as a result of his current lowered inhibition.
Bryce reached out absent-mindedly for a drink from the table next to him. He picked up the bottle of rum Rigley had just replaced. Bryce brought the bottle up towards his lips before some moment of revelation reached him as he saw what he was about to put into his mouth. His face contorted as he remembered the grubby finger which had penetrated the bottle-hole only moments ago. Bryce looked down at Rigley with an awkward smile and returned the bottle quickly without drinking from it. If Rigley was attempting to catch his attention, it seemed Bryce was genuinely ignorant of any such notion; it was more than likely the thought had never entered his conscious mind.
It seemed Kosal, meanwhile was enjoying himself a great deal more. He tossed back another hefty guzzle from his glass before setting it down to allow full mobility of his arms as the dancing began. Kosal began moving his body to the rhythm of the sound; his movements were slightly more subtle compared with Myrna’s to begin with but as she began using him as a pivot point, wriggling around him, Kosal let his hands dance upon her body, every so often sliding a hand across her hips.
The scene was not turning Bryce on in the slightest. He took hold of a wineskin from the table and turned to walk away.
“Think I might sit down.” He began making his way over towards a sofa on the opposite end of the room. Myrna’s show had clearly enticed others however; one bulbous man was being harassed by his female escort. The spindly woman was caked in a think layer of make-up, which suggested she had dipped her face in a bucket of white paint before smearing a trowel of a dark green across her eyes. She tugged on the man’s swollen arm for a while before he subsided and followed her onto the dance floor.
Another more willing, lone participant made his way over towards Myrna, swinging his arms above his head in a less-than-modest fashion. Judging from the glazed, blasé expression on his face and the odour of weed which emanated from him, the man was clearly high. As he swayed towards Myrna, he spread both his arms and legs wide in a provocative manner, gyrating his pelvis towards her.
Kosal continued dancing next to her for a moment, watching the man before a primordial instinct– brought about through his intoxication, began to kick in. Kosal took hold of Myrna by her forearm and rotated away from the competitor, trying to bring Myrna around to face him, her back facing the man. It was not an overly forceful gesture, but was perhaps more brazen than was normal for him, as a result of his current lowered inhibition.
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Bosie Vaporgate
- Citizen
- Posts: 71
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 4:03 am
- Name: Buoyansie Vaporgate
- Race: gnome
Re: The Arrangement
Rejected, Rigley was hardly discouraged. He just turned his efforts to the table of alcohol, which couldn't possibly turn him down. Of course there would probably come a point when his pickled liver rejected the poison, but he could have fun getting there. From the edge of the table, the boy picked up a flask of something whiffy--it looked like a personal flask that someone had left behind accidentally. With no more than a cursory sniff, Rigley began to sip at the flask alternately between slurps of his cup.
His attention rotated slowly towards the action center of the room, his stooped shoulders angled into the sound of the drums, antiparallel to the floor. A trickling whiff of ganja hit his nostrils and perked up his eyebrows.
Myrna's attention was similarly piqued as the scent came near her. She identified the source as the rangy creature gyrating in her midst. In the moments before Kosal asserted his territory, Myrna was indeed distracted from her host. She dotted the air with her nose like a curious cat and squinted in the stoner's direction. She twirled her index fingers in the air as if conducting his arrhythmic movements.
When Kosal pulled on her arm, she didn't seem startled or surprised. She grinned--a rather sticky, pinkish grin, as she had apparently been sucking on a cinnamony lozenge she'd turned up somewhere--and wriggled her arm to be sure her wide collar slipped down over her shoulder a little.
"Hey!" Myrna clapped her hand over her mouth so she didn't lose the lozenge after her exclamation. "Pretty good party, huh?"
She tugged her own forearm to urge Kosal along with her and began to totter over to the table with the drinks. It was as if she had been on her way there already and had just happened to run into him en route.
"You know what I totally want to do?" She was half-shouting to be heard above the beats of the box and the raucous jostling of drunk people. "I want to do like a hundred shots right now! I get drunk sooooo easily!" The septuagenarian girl giggled at her 'confession.' "Say, how about some Nightcap, right?"
Rigley scowled at his sister as she walked right by him. Without shifting his posture from his oddly Igor-esque bend, he began to shuffle over to the whirring drumbox.
His attention rotated slowly towards the action center of the room, his stooped shoulders angled into the sound of the drums, antiparallel to the floor. A trickling whiff of ganja hit his nostrils and perked up his eyebrows.
Myrna's attention was similarly piqued as the scent came near her. She identified the source as the rangy creature gyrating in her midst. In the moments before Kosal asserted his territory, Myrna was indeed distracted from her host. She dotted the air with her nose like a curious cat and squinted in the stoner's direction. She twirled her index fingers in the air as if conducting his arrhythmic movements.
When Kosal pulled on her arm, she didn't seem startled or surprised. She grinned--a rather sticky, pinkish grin, as she had apparently been sucking on a cinnamony lozenge she'd turned up somewhere--and wriggled her arm to be sure her wide collar slipped down over her shoulder a little.
"Hey!" Myrna clapped her hand over her mouth so she didn't lose the lozenge after her exclamation. "Pretty good party, huh?"
She tugged her own forearm to urge Kosal along with her and began to totter over to the table with the drinks. It was as if she had been on her way there already and had just happened to run into him en route.
"You know what I totally want to do?" She was half-shouting to be heard above the beats of the box and the raucous jostling of drunk people. "I want to do like a hundred shots right now! I get drunk sooooo easily!" The septuagenarian girl giggled at her 'confession.' "Say, how about some Nightcap, right?"
Rigley scowled at his sister as she walked right by him. Without shifting his posture from his oddly Igor-esque bend, he began to shuffle over to the whirring drumbox.