| Players: | Amiri, Benjamin, Dairine |
|---|---|
| Date of IC Effect: | May 25, 2008 |
| Location: | The Gray Albatross |
| Synopsis: | A Tainted creature invades the kitchen of the Albatross; Dare and Amiri take it to the mages, Benjamin in tow. |
Despite being on the docks, the Gray Albatross has a much better repute than most of its nearby ilk. True, it's a tavern; hardly a grand establishment. But it's well-lit, serves both decent drink and decent food, and its clientele may be loud at times but they're rarely rowdy. The Albatross caters mostly to the Kalmarians who come up the river, or live in the city, being one of the few places in Maratha that sells Kalmarian brews and actual seafood, as well as river-caught fish and typical Marathan fare. The seafood is, of course, very expensive this far inland. But that may be part of the reason the Albatross can afford the charms which keep its air from smelling too strongly of alcohol, smoke, and the usual tavern miasma.
Another unusual feature of the Albatross is the sign right inside its entrance, which reads: "Beware of Dairine". The small print says 'Improper behavior towards her may result in loss of blood and/or appendages. The proprietor takes no responsibility for the consequences of your behavior.' Anyone who spends any length of time in the Albatross learns very quickly that one barmaid /only/ waits tables and cannot be importuned into anything more personal; persistance is generally rewarded with the edge of a dagger. This may have some bearing on the relatively calm atmosphere of the tavern — and doesn't seem to have any effect on its continued patronage by dockworkers and sailors.
Late afternoon finds the Gray Albatross much as it always is - busy and bordering on noisy. The fire in the hearth is a thing of atmosphere rather than a ward against chill; generally good-natured discussions provide the rest of the tavern's ambiance today. Dairine seems to have dressed up for a nonexistent occasion, wearing a flounced, beribboned blue blouse not quite at odds with her much plainer, everyday trousers. It's almost enough to make an onlooker entirely miss the dagger at her waist - but not quite. She winds her way across the floor, pausing beneath one of the glyphcards that hang from the ceiling. Dare pulls the cord and card down, and continues on her way towards the bar.
Amiri hops off her seat on the end of the bar and approaches Dairine curiously, standing on tip-toes to try to get a look at the card, "What's that?" Her hands clasp behind her back in a child-like manner, as if she had no idea at all what glyph cards were in general. Which she clearly does. Of course. Who doesn't? She's not an idiot. She just wants to know what that particular card is. … Yeah.
Dairine looks up as Amiri moves to intercept her. She smiles, and turns the card so the younger woman can see the glyph inked on its surface. "These keep the air clear, so the Albatross doesn't smell like some of the cheap taverns do. At least while the glyph's still working." Dare closes the distance to the bar and sets the card down, cupping her hands over it to block out as much light as possible. "See how it's dark? If it was active, it'd glow a bit."
Amiri peers at the card suspiciously and sniffs at it. "Ah ha… Well, if that's what they do, why are they so… bland? They ought to shape them like something fresh smelling, like a lemon. Or perhaps a little pine tree?" She shrugs and steps out of Dairine's way so the large lady can deal with the card in whatever way one deals with burned-out air fresheners.
Dairine chuckles, picking the card back up. "If you ask Gair, maybe he'll let you decorate the cards when he gets new ones. I don't think that'll bother the glyph." She flips it over to look at the back of the card, brow creasing slightly. "I don't think Gair ordered these very long ago. I wonder if he went to a different mage?" Musing aloud, Dairine starts for the door into the back of the tavern. She doesn't get more than a few steps before there's a loud clatter (as of pans hitting the floor, perhaps?) and a screech from the kitchen.
Amiri jumps at the clatter, a hand to her chest, and blinks wide-eyed at the kitchen. Quickly she hurries in that direction, "Is everyone all right?!"
Dairine is beaten to the door by Amiri, but not by much. The tall woman hovers in the doorway behind her, peering into the kitchen. One barmaid takes her set of mugs and slips out past the pair rather quickly. A second is keeping her distance at the far end of the room, two displaced pans a ways away on the floor. The other cook points under a table with his ladle, broth from the day's soup dripping from its bowl. "There's a… it's… I don't know what," he says. "A big rat?" Rats aren't uncommon - but his tone sounds like he's really just wishing it was a rat.
Amiri steps out of Dairine's way, not because it might not be a rat, but because it very well might. She holds the door for her co-workers as they evacuate and bites her lip uneasily, taking a quick glance out at the patrons to make sure no one looks too concerned about their vermin problem.
"A rat?" Dairine sounds rather dubious, since anyone who works around the docks knows very well what a rat looks like. She steps forward and stretches out on the floor to look under the table; about the time Dare gets a view of what's in hiding, the critter voices a sibilant hiss. "…Not so much," the woman comments dryly. "Come out here where I can get a good look at you." Except it's not about to come, so Dairine reaches under to grab it.
Amiri puts a hand to her mouth and cautions, "Don't get bitten!" Because Dairine might've not known that'd be bad. She's really very lucky she has Amiri around to remind her of the elusive little details like that.
Judging by the thud of something hitting the table and Dairine's subsequent curse, it sounds like Amiri's caution came slightly late. A low growl fills the room - surprisingly low for the little thing Dare drags out from under the table. It looks most like a weasel, but has a broad, flat tail somewhat like an otter's (if furred), and patches of quills interspersed in its dense fur. "You're a nasty little piece of work," Dairine says, as she switches it to her other hand, holding it by the back of its neck. Her right hand and part of her arm sport several red traces, mostly from claws. "And /not/ a rat."
Amiri chokes down an eep at the sight of the weaselbeaverpine, clasping her hands over her chest. Yet her question somehow doesn't match her reaction, "…should we cook it?" It's not a pest, it's a new ingredient! And besides, Dairine might find it cathardic to eat something that scratched her.
Dairine glowers at the critter, then peers sidelong at Amiri. She looks rather nonplussed for a moment, before finally chuckling and shaking her head. "I wouldn't. No telling what Tainted meat would do to you. Probably poison." Blue eyes flick to her torn-up arm. "Feels like it's got something in its claws, at least. You think the mages will want it?" Dare asks as it squirms in her grip, the question apparently meant for everyone at hand.
Amiri almost passes out, "It's… tainted? It's one of those things? But… it hurt you! You could be infected with something! You need to see a mage, or… or a doctor… or… COULD YOU KILL THAT THING ALREADY?" Poor little Amiri looks like she's about to have a heart attack.
"Pretty sure," Dairine answers, rather matter-of-factly. "At least, it doesn't look like anything I've seen before." And if it's something unknown, she assumes it's Tainted. "I'll take it to the mages; then they can figure out if the scratches are a problem," Dare says to Amiri, without waiting for the other staff to speak up. "You want to come with me? Or at least find something I can put it in? I'd rather not have it in my hand the whole way."
Amiri nods and rushes into the kitchen, where there's a clanging and cacophany much like the one that drew the women's attention there to begin with. She returns with a large pot with a lid that can be fastened down, just the thing for cooking and carrying things that might try to escape.
Dairine watches Amiri go with a lopsided smile, gratefully dropping the critter into the pot upon her return, taking the container from her friend. "Thanks." Stepping back out into the main room, where only a few patrons have been distracted by the clamor - it's a tavern; what else is new? - Dare ducks behind the bar. The pot is set down, the fastenings carefully checked, as she takes up a few clean scraps of cloth to wrap around her arm.
Amiri eyes the pot with a hint of regret, either worried that they'll never be able to use that pot again or that the critter inside might find a way to use it as armor and thus be unstoppable. When Dairine starts to bandage herself she hurries over to see if she can help, "I could pour some alcohol on it if you want. Or just water? We should clean it, shouldn't we?"
Looking over at Amiri, Dairine nods slowly. "Probably," she agrees. Eyeing the pot sidelong, she adds after a moment, "I suppose it won't go anywhere now." Keeping the bleeding arm away from her shirt, Dare makes her way back into the kitchen. "Water first, I think - get a good look at the damage."
Amiri hurries along at Dairine's side like a toddler trying to keep up with her big sister and finally winds her way in front and hurries to get a wash basin and cloth. "Here, you do it… I don't want to hurt you. I'll find some alcohol, all right?" She hops up to look over the stores on hand, looking for something powerful but not too exotic. After all, she can't well wash Dairine with her week's pay or leave the tough woman with a tangy bouquet and smooth finish.
Making his way into the Gray Albatross is Benny! The little boy is bouncing along happily having avoided tripping on his robe for a full 3 minutes. In his hand the empty box and plate where is cake was in. It has been awhile since he has been back, but he has been getting into other sorts of trouble. Of course now he can give thanks for the cake and perhaps mention how good it was a million times until the promise of another one is given.
Back in the kitchen, Dairine smiles at Amiri, taking the basin. "Thanks." She fills it from a kettle of warm water beside one of the cooking fires, then sets to wiping the blood from her arm. Beneath the drying red liquid, the scratches are a bit red and puffy, as cat scratches might get. They're just getting that way faster. "It's not too bad, I think." Of course, this /is/ Dare speaking.
Amiri shakes her head, offering the bottle of alcohol, hoping very much Dairine doesn't decide to drink it as there's no way she could carry such a large woman all the way to a doctor. "It's getting red. That's a bad sign. Here, use this and then we'll go."
In the front of the tavern Benjamin lingers by the door. The poor boy can't actually come inside. After all he is pretty sure his parents wouldn't want him in there alone. Of course once he is in he wouldn't be alone, but on the other hand who knows what goes in taverns. More then likely people dancing around and getting into fights over card games. At least that is what Benjamin imagines making him want to spend his entire day in a tavern watching bar fights. But for now he stand blocking the door box in hand.
Taking the alcohol from Amiri, Dairine pours it slowly over the cuts, lips pressed into a thin line. When every scratch has been doused, she puts the bottle down and wraps the cloth scraps loosely over her arm. "I'll just go get the thing," the woman says, standing up and moving back out into the tavern proper. The container is where she left it, even the worst drunks having known better than to mess with something Dare left behind.
Amiri follows Dairine at a bit of a distance, perhaps wondering if she's going to turn into a were-weaselbeaverpine, or perhaps just knowing better than to be within arm's reach when Dare's in a bad mood.
Pot in hand (both hands), Dairine makes her way to the door - only to find Benjamin on the other side when she opens it. Fortunately, it swings in. "Woah. Not the best place to be standing, kid. I could've run you right over." He's familiar, in a vague sort of way - but so are a lot of people Dare sees rarely. "You looking for someone? You can just go in, you know. It's early yet."
Amiri leans around Dairine and beams at the young man, "Oh, hello Benjamin! You shouldn't stand there or someone's going to trample you. Do you want to come with Dairine and I? She got bitten by some… weasel… beaver… thing and we're taking her to a doctor."
"I was returning the box and pan for my ca…" the boy pauses looking between the two, "Oh.. you okay?" the concern shows on his face, "When I get a cut ice cream makes me feel better… and cake too." he does fall in line to follow along, "I'll come." he pauses looking at the pot, "You made the doctor some soup? Soup makes people who are sick well."
Dairine smiles at the boy. "Yeah, I'm fine." Her smile broadens at Benjamin's words. "No, the thing that scratched me is in there." She peers at the lid. "It's settled down quite a bit now." Dairine steps around him and starts down the street. "We're taking it over to the academy first. I'll get one of them to check my arm while we're there." Hopefully that will be the end of the trip.
Amiri nods in agreement with Dairine, "Though if the doctor says it's not dangerous then maybe it'll become soup." She reaches for the box, "I can take that if you like. Thank you so much for bringing it back!"
The boy relinquishes the box easily enough, "Can we tame it and keep it as a pet. Maybe name him Bobby or Mr. Scratches?" Benjamin grins from ear to ear now, "Can I see him? Please." the boy stands on his toes, but he is still unable to get a good look at the top of the pot, much less at the creature.
Dairine makes no move to ease her grip on the pot. She studies Benjamin with a look that completely fails at 'stern' as they walk down the street. There's just too much good humor in Dare, especially given Ben's rather infectious grin. "You can see it when we get to where the mages can keep it contained." Blue eyes flick to her bandaged arm. "I'm /not/ taking the lid off just so I have to catch it again."
Amiri nods in agreement with Dairine, "It was a slippery thing and poor Dairine got all scratched up catching it. I do think that Mr. Scratches would be a fine name for it, though. Unless it's a girl. Mrs. Scratches?"
There is a quick shake of Benjamin's head, "No Mr. Sctarches is a boy's name. Maybe Indria if it is a girl or well… Miss Poltzikiwaiarinamin." he bods his head quickly at that as he holds up the length of his robe making sure he stays upright, "Limia also works for a girl, "But he is a boy." this is something Benjamin sounds quite sure of.
Dairine laughs softly as her companions discuss names. "And then what? Call it 'Ziki' for short, maybe?" Her heels tap against the stones of the plaza as they make for the academy gates. They're open, of course; not in living memory have the gates been closed. The actual door of the main building /is/ closed, and Dare stops just outside it. "Ben', I don't suppose you have a suggestion on who this should go to?"
Amiri shrugs, "That's too bad, I like Miss Plotzykiwiranian." She peers at the door suspiciously as if it's some kind of living magic door that's staying closed to thwart their ingress, but then, that could be true of all doors. "Can't we just drop it off? I'm worry about your cuts, Dare."
"Miss Plotzykiwiranian is pretty cool." Benjamin pauses looking at the pot, "Could just leave it with me!" the boy of course is most likely to take it to his room, open the top, and then get attacked. Perhaps the mages won't press charges after wards.
Dairine eyes Benjamin, then looks over at Amiri. "With him around? Unsupervised?" she says, grin on her face matching the amusement in her tone. "I don't think so." She sets the container down and raps the knocker against the door, waiting for whoever's on door-duty to come answer.
— fin —
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