“What can I say, I’m a busy lady,” Maeve said, amused, hefting her empty wine glass and trailing back through the room to the counter. “On the contrary I suppose, its just the same that the Lights.. unpredictability this year has lead some to the assumption that they should do whatever it takes to fatten their purse. To try their hand at fortune before it surely takes a supposed turn for the worse. At any rate I don’t think I’ve seen a soul come in that hasn’t paid their dues to the shrine over there,” she said with a pointed look to the item in question. It’s contents would certainly need a trip to the actual temple a far bit earlier than normal, she figured.
“And I suppose that’s a fair enough apology,” she said, a teasing glint in her eyes as she fetched a bottle of her preferred red to fill up her glass. “Fair enough to avoid scrubbing down the privy, I’d say,” she smirked. “In all actuality though, I’ll pay you some to bus the tables here and there and help keep the coat & weapons check in order. An extra set of hands with that would be quite helpful.”
--
Dom followed silently, listening carefully to Maeve’s observations. He nodded, looking over his shoulder at the tables with the gamblers and drinkers, and then his eyes strayed towards the shrine. It was indeed almost spilling over with coin and small tokens of value. He laughed, a little sardonically, and muttered, “It’s almost poetic how they gamble with the God’s favor and then with the favor of the cards or dice.” He knew the draw of both, having given plenty to temples and shrines asking for forgiveness, and then spending more than he had to get just one more chance. “You should probably take that away soon before people start drinking too much and slip their hands into that trove.”
Dom brightened as Maeve turned back towards him, the titular wine glass delicately clasped in her hand. “You know I’m not below cleaning the shitter,” He quipped back, smiling. “But I would prefer the busing. Coats would be good as well, I could peek into people’s pockets, learn all their secrets.” He meant it only as a half joke: he was much too tempted at times to help himself the look into other elves personal lives.
Maeve’s eyes immediately snapped to the source of the loud shout of her name and gave the patron she’d been talking to a tired smile. “If you wouldn’t mind dear - I’ll come find you later,” she said, an apologetic smile to her lips. The patron left, and it was then that Maeve turned a gaze with a smile that held the slightest chill to it towards the new elf. “Darling Dom, if you’re expecting me to give you a job at the drop of a pin you could do to refrain yourself from interrupting conversations and wait until I’m done conducting business, hm? And I’d really rather you not shout my name across the room, so frequently,” she said, teasing slightly, bringing her hand up to flick the back of Dom’s head.
--
Dom’s lips twitched downwards at the reprimand, and shrugged off the flick. He leaned back against the table and finally looked up at Maeve with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I got your attention, didn’t I?” He asked sarcastically, a small smirk finally lifting the corner of his mouth. “Besides, you’re either running things on shift, or going over the books, or who knows what!” He tapped his boot against the floor, fidgeting slightly under her gaze. “Fine, alright, sorry! It won’t happen again. No promises I won’t yell your name however, this place is very busy, even after the Lights! I would have thought everyone would have spent their coin just before, and now would be nursing their empty bottles and pockets for a little bit longer.” He swung his head back towards Maeve, his shoulders relaxing somewhat. “I would say just front me a few coin, and I could try my luck at cards, but as we know, the house always wins.” He winked, and ducked away slightly in case she decided to smack him harder this time.
JUNIPER HAD CERTAINLY seen this person around town before, and she had heard of her penchant for taking up odd jobs here and there, but the two of them had had little reason to interact in the past. Was this fate’s way, then, of bringing two strangers together? All the same, she kept her head down as they each picked up after the mess, her intention to finish and go. It seemed, however, that her helper here was keen on discussing further. This had Juniper’s jaw tightening momentarily, but she supposed answering was another way of showing her thanks. “That’s yarrow. I’ve mullein and goldenrod here as well, among others. Most of these are for dyeing, but they have herbal and medicinal properties too.” She paused. “Thank you for your help.”
--
“Goldenrod,” Dominique muttered, looking at the flat, yellow flowers. She remembered it being used liberally for sprains and breaks, to help ease the swelling of joints in the rebel soldiers that would stop by her family’s home at the shore, served in cups of steaming broth. “Good for inflammation if I remember my herbs correctly.” She looked up briefly at the other elf’s face. “And mullein is good for fevers...” She paused, and something about the memory of her home, and of soldiers, brought forth the memory of a dark haired elf at the seashore. “Do... do I know you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. It felt like a tug on the back of her eyes, an image of a blurry face she couldn’t quite place right away swimming in front of the one in front her.
“Maeve!” Dom called over the crowd, pushing through with effort. He could see her at a table, speaking to a patron, bent over so her blonde hair spilled almost to the tabletop. He finally made his way to her side and smiled nonchalantly at the customer he was interrupting. “Maeve, got any jobs you need me to do? I’m strapped for cash. And no I didn’t just gamble my latest stash away, before you ask.” He said, turning his back to the table and surveyed the landscape of the Den.
who: open to anyone
where: near the square
when: nearing midday
RUFFIANS, THE LOT of them.
Juniper had been on her way to a local herbalist with the intention of selling some things from her garden, when a small group of young elves, likely caught in some sort of game, had come running, jostling against her. Suffice to say, some of her herbs now lay on the ground, and while most of them remained usable, a few that had fallen by the wayside could no longer be salvaged. Juniper supposed they had been young enough to make being reckless seem like a normal thing to be, but they had also looked old enough that they ought to have felt guilt for leaving her to pick up after their mess. She remained quiet and did not mutter expletives under her breath like an old crone, but the irritation was clear on her face as she began to pick up some of the herbs and return them in her basket.
--
“Well, that’s just a pity,” Dominique said, looking down at the ground, a twinge of annoyance in her voice. Her hat had come off as the young elves had zigzagged their way past, but it had hardly suffered the damage the herbs had. She stood for a moment, watching where the teens had run off to, before turning back towards the other. “Here, I’ll help.” She knelt down, picking up the few leaves that hadn’t already wilted on the damp ground, and she couldn’t help but to bring them up to her nose for their scent. “These are lovely. What all do you have here?” She asked curiously, handing them over.
(keira knightley, 102, bigender) by the gods is that DOMINIQUE VELA? the locals say they’re ADVENTUROUS & RELAXED and APATHETIC & PETTY. SHE/HE is known for being a JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES/TREASURE HUNTER. word around the tavern is that THEY ROBBED THE GRAVES OF WAR VICTIMS, but you didn’t hear it from me.
✘ Dominique Vela grew up along the coastline. She had a small, loving family, and grew up a quiet life. She learned all the basics of living off the land, how to fish, and swim quite well. She ran with the children at shallow tide to gather up pretty seashells and to poke at sea anemones. She also took to scavenging for items that had fallen from ships or floated from wrecks, old bottles and boxes full of waterlogged cloth. It was during on of these trips that she found a coin dated for decades back, and with an unknown origin. She became obsessed.
✘ Dom’s family wasn’t rich, but they weren’t lacking for a roof over their head. The Blood Wars didn’t reach their home for some time, but when it did, his family chose the losing side. They housed the rebels, gave them food and water, and healed them up the best they could. He learned how to heal small wounds, and became no stranger to pain and suffering.
✘ As the soldiers passed through, they told Dominique stories of valor and adventure. She didn’t much care about the warfare and tactical aspects of their stories, but rather, what they had looted along the way, and the places they had discovered hiding from their enemies. She ate it up.
✘ As soon as she was old enough, she booked it out of her small village, and started her quest for treasure. She met up with a group of likeminded folk: treasure hunters, explorers, adventurers. They started to work together, piecing together old maps, finding clues written in ancient texts, and learning the lay of the land. They at first were decently renowned - fearless elves that would jump at a chance to enter cave systems or swim into icy lakes to see what was at the bottom of it. While people didn’t particularly like letting them onto their lands, the troupe found it easy enough when they would toss ancient gold coins towards their blockages.
✘ It went sour at the end of the war, however. Dom and his pack of friends were starting to feel desperate. They had been hiding from troops to begin with, and now that the other side had won, the lot of them worried for their futures. They ran out of money, and started to starve. So, some of them coerced the others into graverobbing. Dom at first didn’t want to get involved. Robbing the freshly dug graves of victims of war felt wrong, but the hunger in his stomach was stronger than any sort of moral willpower. So, he took up a shovel. But as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.
✘ It was a few years after the war, and only by sheer luck, Dominique had refused to go out that particular night, and was instead holed up at camp. When her friends didn’t return in the morning, she felt worry gnawing at her. When they didn’t return by midday, she decided to hunt them down. She followed the trail, and found them captured at a military camp. She knew the consequences of graverobbing and they weren’t merciful. She ran away into the forest that very night, tears streaming down her face.
✘ Delos was a good enough location as any. She stayed first at the inn, earning her keep by doing repairs and helping out with customers. Soon, her name made the rounds as someone who was available for any odd job, and quickly found a business in it. She was able to move out of the inn, and created connections throughout the town. She still tries to keep a low profile, but she longs to leave and search the world again for its mysteries.
𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘 --
✘ Dominique believes in a job well done. If you ask her to do something, she will do it as perfectly as possible.
✘ Dom isn’t interested in finding a bond mate, but he is a flirt!
✘ She will often be found pouring over books (mostly of a fantastical nature) in her free time.
𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 --
✘ Members of the aforementioned treasure hunting group
✘ Job postings ~~ He’s always at the board looking for work
✘ Friends!!
✘ People for her to flirt with :)
✘ Any and all!!
𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 --
I switch Dominique’s pronouns in this intro quite a bit. When on dash, I’ll be using one set of pronouns per thread ~
tangentwithtanner
ellievsbear
dededos
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
