#bone sounds

[fatebreaking-a]

@bone-sounds thinks the Lady Buvelle doesn’t know about suffering, the Lady Buvelle thinks the Mage of Needlebrook has a heart too broken to ignore. Continued from [here]

She remains neutral throughout, a deep sigh leaving her chest as Phaedra takes the paper and scrawls something out. She could just speak back, couldn’t she? Ah, she hadn’t realized Sona’s condition yet. That would be amusing. Sona slides a hand through her bangs and turns her eyes to the paper, scanning its contents.

Blind? She often turned her eyes from the horrors, unable to make her choice. Unable to do any more than deceive and distract, to pull eyes away from innocents. Perhaps she was blind.

But not deaf.

Her smile curls a bit, a twinge of sadness pulling at the corners. She deserves that. Her fingers scrawl again, trying to figure out what she ought to say. Unlike Phaedra, she was not nearly as forthcoming with her magic. Unlike Phaedra, Sona was not registered. But this... She frowns a little deeper. The pain, the bitterness, the frustration. It was easy to get caught up in it. To get lost in politics.

That wasn’t why she approached Phaedra. She passes the paper back, a new message upon it in neat, flowing script.

<<And of your suffering?>>

[forvinti-archived-blog]

@bone-sounds

“You do see a lot of strange,” Quinn had quietly agreed, never taking her eyes from the pages and detail. Her words lacked reverence but her expression didn’t seem to with how approving and attentive it was. A couple of the bones she didn’t even recognize the species of but she particularly liked the details of those. Her own drawings of plants came with other types of details. Whether or not they were safe to eat or better to taint her bolts with.

She couldn’t help her amusement at the sight of the hare though and the alcohol sinking into her system — Quinn snorted and smiled at the infectious laughter behind the rim of her cup, having to lower it. Good thing she hadn’t taken a sip right then.

“That’s cute. A little outside your bone and skulls theme though?” The ranger finally finished her cup with a final long drink to buy time for what she could say to the question about herself. She had hoped Phaedra wouldn’t have asked.

“I’m, ahm, a hunter. Tracker. Pelts and all that pay well enough around Demacia you know? I couldn’t stay north and farm for too long. Just sitting in one spot, one place. That’s what my family does.” She poured just enough honesty into her words. Quinn spotting the ‘tender heading back their way with a couple plates of food to set before them. Wordless and sternly while also providing the ranger with a refill. He seemed like the type of man who was more often behind the counter preparing than serving. Quinn’s slurring attention was right back on the other woman when the innkeeper walked off heavily to leave them again. Despite how great the food smelled she didn’t give to it right away. They were served several different portions of things looked like, from bread to roasted duck. She didn’t know how much a palmful of gold was getting them but was far from complaining.

“I don’t know what to say? It’s simple and I uh, keep busy. People’re grateful for help with vermin or for food they can’t get.” Details were better left indirect and un-ironed. Quinn couldn’t have imagined they’d continue to interact beyond that point either. Two strangers in a passing interaction, sharing a bit of companionship before inevitably moving on.

It wasn’t new to Quinn. She couldn’t keep on with anyone in foreign territory or her own. Temporary loves and brief friendships sprouted when she wasn’t too rocky with her socializing but they could never last in tandem with her lifestyle and loyalties. But that was more of an excuse. Quinn simply preferred to keep others at such an arm’s length that few managed to reach past and truly touch her. A complicated lifestyle was an excuse she more readily accepted.

“What do you do?” Quinn asked, trying to flip the subject of focus again while she reached for be. Her intoxication was showing in a flush less intense than the other’s but still there.

[ghostgurlgamer]

@highermagic Monday is here! Trouble on an airplane, and Will and Hannibal come to an understanding.

Ko-fi

[forvinti-archived-blog]

@bone-sounds

Quinn furrowed her brows a little when picking up the drink offered back to her, glancing into it. At least her answer was an acceptable one; it had almost felt like a trap of a question despite the light way it had been delivered. Weeks away from comfortable people to talk to often made Quinn overthink a lot of matters too. Whatever the source of the question, it wasn’t her business.

She had tried not to make a face when sampling the rich stout but failed. The bitterness was shocking enough to make her cringe a bit when putting it back down, licking her lips. That aftertaste wasn’t all that bad though, she considered, shifting the drink back over and smiling at the compliment of her taste and drunken giggles to follow. Quinn felt lighter in spirit too. She wasn’t quite at the level of her companion across from her, but she’d get there, maybe. The population of people was only likely to deteriorate in the tavern as the evening went on and the more she was at ease the more she was willing to let herself go a little.

Compliments helped even if that last one flustered the ranger into silence while Phaedra dug for something — a journal? Quinn’s eyes lit up with interest instantly as the ragged book was splayed over the table to reveal the depiction. The detail was very appealingly dark and shadowed, messed from the charcoal in a way that just looked even more fitting. She couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not but rested her attention over the lines with the thoughtful consideration of a fellow artist, gazing down into the paper stare and wondering if that predatory focus was reflected in her eyes too.

“He almost looks familiar,” Quinn mused with another sip of her fiery drink. “They’re incredible animals. You captured that really well there. Are birds a favorite of yours? There any more drawings?”

[forvinti-archived-blog]

@bone-sounds

A question was an interesting alternative. Quinn picked up her drink and peered into it thoughtfully. Being called intelligent certainly struck her underlying ego but she tried not to let that sink too far.

All the starting tension had dampened. It was almost easy for Quinn to be as laid back as she seemed, rarely feeling as unthreatened as she did. Which wasn’t to say the woman sitting in front of her didn’t seem capable enough to be a threat, there was just so much awkward friendliness to be drawn in by. She tipped her drink up and back while she thought about the unusual question. It hardly burnt down her throat but it definitely bloomed richly in her chest. Fortunately she managed not to cringe much at the initial hot sensation, drumming her fingers on the table for a moment to get through the feeling and clearing her throat.

“There’s probably some... deeper edge to that question. But I would personally just prefer to be loved regardless of what I was, even if I had to become something else.” When the knight flicked her eyes up all she could take note of was mischief in a gaze and the flush of skin. Quinn met it with an even stare of interest.

“Sometimes I’ll pack this around in a canteen in the winter just for that reason. Never tried Bilgewater Stout, though.” It felt much more bearable the second time Quinn tipped her cup back to drink. Heat soon crawled across her face too from the strength of the drink and that hot effect in her core. She already felt leagues better, in the way that she was warm and already growing looser in posture.

“Is there a right answer to your question? Context?” Quinn nudged her drink a bit across the table, silently offering Phaedra a sip of hers if she cared for it. Now and then she didn’t mind sharing.

[forvinti-archived-blog]

@bone-sounds

It was actually hard for Quinn to drop her smile at the compliment of her name.

Even when crackling of knuckles made her stomach churn a bit. Her only indication of acknowledging the actions was a quick dip of her eyes and a twitch in her lips. Quinn otherwise chose to scan a few of the occupants in the room around them and the grain of the table beneath her own bare hands, trying to think if she’d ever even been to Needlebrook. Sometimes she thought that she’d paid visit to more places in the Freljord than her own homeland. Phaedra’s name was very pretty too, but some things Quinn often left unsaid.

Quinn took only a moment to mull what she wanted, had her order on the tip of her tongue ready to follow up on earning her seat until the woman had decided to speak up instead. Something dark, something bitter. The ranger couldn’t really stifle the huff of laughter she gave. The tender himself seemed surprised, more so by the amount of gold that was shortly closed into his oversized fist. His brows raised up high enough that Quinn thought she could even see a glint of that surprise in aged eyes.

“Dragon’s Breath,” Quinn ordered without too much hesitation. A nod was their response before the man was off. She often preferred sweeter drinks but she liked the way that type of rum settled sometimes, burned her core. It felt like a great choice after having come from chilly air and an increasing drizzle of rain. Attention back to her new companion, Quinn returned that warm smile with a bit unsureness. She hadn’t considered her own presence a favor, couldn’t quite seem to imagine the woman in front of her having that poor of a day.

“I won’t complain. You seem like you might’ve had a rough day.” And she was extra good at lending an ear when treated. The innkeep was already heading back with their order and what looked like something extra.

“It isn’t good to keep everything bottled up either,” Quinn added, honey eyes following the wall of a man who set two filled horn-carved cups down along with a much larger extra tankard of the Stout. It looked more Demacian-modern instead of rustic, not quite matching the horn cups.

“Meat’s gonna be done soon,” he rumbled before heading right back off to attend to the counter. Quinn reached out to hook her own drink closer.

“Feel like venting off to a stranger or would you prefer to avoid the topic?”