[OPEN] all life has taught me

[esquive]

WHO: Fitcher, Marcoulf, Bartimaeus (+) & YOU
WHAT: Ye Olde Catch'all
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Kirkwall, The Gallows, le Misc.
NOTES: Starters in comments; if you want something/someone who isn't here, just hit me up and I'll scrape something together.

Comments

[saam]

Eshal lets a single rolling laugh fall from her throat. "You're lucky you're pretty."

She doesn't flinch when the griffon comes. She puts her hands on her hips and stares, appraising it slowly, as though it needs her approval. A verdict is not given, as the creature approaches, hungry for treats.

"And if I wasn't, would I complain about it to you?" Just to get back at her for that 'money is crass' bullshit. "I'm enjoying it. It's not perfect, but I like it better that way. Perfect is a fucking waste."

[unshut]

Yes, says Fitcher's self-satisfied expression. Her face is rather fortunate. But it would be conceited in the extreme to linger on the point, so she instead shifts her focus to unwrapping the bleeding scraps. One is flicked down into the straw and dust between herself and the imposing animal. After much ruffling of feathers and clacking of beaks, the griffon snaps up the strip of flesh.

"Ah, an adventuress diplomat. That's quite novel. Does your partner feel similarly, do you think?"

[saam]

She turns her head to the side, a little, expression canny. "Why's it everything nice you say sounds kinda like an insult?"

She won't rag on Byerly, however she feels about him. A unified front. She has to keep up her end.

[unshut]

That seems to surprise the woman. She blinks, then laughs - quite pleased.

"The accent, maybe?"