WHO: Adrasteia, Erik, other folks. WHAT: It's an open log WHEN: Mid to late Guardian WHERE: Kirkwall, &c. NOTES: Erik curses. That's about it. Open starters in threads.
Amador has a way of simply appearing wherever he wants to be, and this is no exception: nobody knows where he sleeps or spends the night, but at the sound of singing, he has materialized at the bottom of the stairwell.
"Cantora!" he calls up in his own musical tenor, "what fair maiden fills the halls with such sweetness?"
Anyone angry with her will now have to be angry with both of them.
"To bring water to the sixth floor, and wash my hair, for the start of the day." Another laugh; this is quite fun, actually, though it's also a stretch for her vocal chords and lung capacity. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of a new song?"
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"Cantora!" he calls up in his own musical tenor, "what fair maiden fills the halls with such sweetness?"
Anyone angry with her will now have to be angry with both of them.
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"Adrasteia!" She sings in reply, "Belabored with water, so I cannot stay!~"
That was definitely someone slamming a door for emphasis, wasn't it?
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Whoever she is, they can talk properly later, or not. The moment has happened.
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