💬: Write a banter between two of your muses. (Bonus: Sender chooses which muses)
Declan grinned as he spotted his fellow Gilnean, sitting in the same spot at the end of the bar with a glass of whiskey and that same battered, old, stained notebook he was always scribbling in.
"Ahoy! Lochlan" the thief called out, that grin only growing as he watched Lochlan stiffen and growl to himself. The older Gilnean had a bit of a grouchy temperament, but on the whole, Declan found the man to be decent none the less.
Of course it didn't hurt that Lochlan had also won him a great many bets.
"How ya be, Lad?" The thief dropped onto the stool beside the swordsman and clapped him on the back.
"What do you want, Declan?" Lochlan grunted, draining the remains of his glass and holding the empty up to signal for a refill. "If it's about forging you lockpicks, the answer is still no."
"Nahh, t'aint f'hat, Lad. I's were figurin' since you's gettin' married soon n'all, I'd let you see some o'me new finds, aye? Might see somef'hin for yer lass, eh?" He held up a small leather pouch and swung it tantalizingly from side to side.
Of course, the look offered by the older male was something to be desired. If it got any flatter he could level Stormwind.
"Let me guess, all for the low cost of one set of new picks." Lochlan waved a hand. "I said no, Declan."
The thief feigned being wounded, covering his heart with a hand. "You's t'ink so little o'me." Declan sat forward and hastily began to open the pouch. "Honest John, Lochlan. I's gettin' married m'self! y'know how much m'lady loved t'wee engagement gift i's got her? I's just bein' a good friend." He found what he was looking for and grinned. With a flourish he held up a tiny ornate vial of golden sand. Entwined around the glass of the vial itself was the golden scaled body of a dragon, wings outstretched on either side and a snarling maw clasped around a a thin chain.
The light tilt of Lochlans head told Declan he had the mans curiosity, offering the vial over for the other Gilnean to take a closer look.
Lochlan gently accepted the vial, though the moment his fingers touched the glass, the vial gave a pulse and shattered, spilling sand and glass all over the counter.
"Uh... what was it?" Lochlan grimaced, glancing over to a horrified Declan.
"Wha--" The thief stammered, staring at what remained of the Vial of sand. "What... what did you...?"
"Ah. I'm going to guess this little trinket was magical..." Lochlan scooped the sand and shards of glass into his palm to give back to a still frozen Declan.
"Should have told me. I don't mix well with enchanted things" He sighed. Declan looked about ready to cry, plucking at the remains still in Lochlans palm.
"I'll uh, I'll just go get started on those Lockpicks for you, yeah?" Lochlan said, waving that his refill should go to the shell shocked thief as he grabbed his notebook, dumped the sand and glass pieces of the vial on the counter and started to head to the door, leaving Declan still pawing at the remains of the vial, murmuring about how hard it had been to find.
"Shit..." was all the swordsman could say, scratching the back of his neck. "Better make him two sets..."
( ty @nocturnedreaming and @rodanthemargrave for the ask. Sorry it was so late! Not my best but I hope you enjoy the interaction)
Declan can be found here: @bourbonandbadluck
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