[log] same old love [open]

[haillenarte]

Characters: Aymeric de Borel, Estinien Wyrmblood, Francel de Haillenarte, Haurchefant Greystone, Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, and any others in the area!
Location Building 124, Building 189
Date: Day 150, Day 151
Summary: Somehow about twenty percent of Norfinbury's population manages to stay in the same buildings at the same time despite an utter lack of coordination. Also, hungry elves are fed.
Warnings: House being House; Aymeric doing questionable things.

124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. The bedframe has been taken apart, and its pieces arranged neatly from largest to smallest on the floor. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal. There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked.

189: A single bedroom apartment. It's seen better days, but the door locks up at night. The window is sealed shut, with snow packed in on he other side allowing no light in. It's pitch black at night, but there is a couch to sleep on, even if the bed only has its frame. The bathroom has a toilet and shower--the shower doesn't work, but the toilet does.

Comments

[bloodbrine]

[ Oh ho. So this is the lordling that's been such a thorn in her side, is it?
Merlwyb is well past the days of acting the part of the bloodthirsty sea captain, so aside from giving Francel a condescending raise of one eyebrow, she doesn't move to directly harm him. Had he been older, perhaps with readily obvious scars to hint towards some actual leadership experience, she may have taken him more seriously... as it is, beating the stuffing out of a boy just barely into adulthood wouldn't be sporting.

A bit of a shame. Throwing a few punches would've been so very therapeutic. ]

Lord Joacin.

[ Completely neutral tone. Just an acknowledgement, that's all. ]

[haillenarte]

[francel returns the acknowledgment.]

Admiral Merlwyb.

[...this would all be much more dignified if only his cheeks weren't stuffed full with saltines at the moment. he looks kind of like a particularly appetizing nutkin.]

[bloodbrine]

[ That's... actually going to get the slightest upward curve of her lips. Nutkin indeed. ]

Pace yourself, lordling. Haste after fasting will sicken your stomach.

[ Since the saltines are currently in the process of being devoured down to the tiniest crumb, Merlwyb selects a packet of jerky from the 'food stash' to nibble on for herself. ]

[haillenarte]

I know, I know...

[the clarity of his voice is impressive considering the amount of food he's chewing on. at length he swallows, his face looking much smaller, and then he takes a long swig out of a bottle of water.]

I would be remiss if I did not express my gratitude.

[bloodbrine]

'Tis naught of import. We are allies, however our differences in opinion; I could hardly let you starve.

[ Nevermind that it was just a convenient side-effect of trading for a luxury item, but nobody needs to bring that up. TOTALLY JUST BEING A GOOD PERSON YEP.
Anyway, popping a chip of jerky in her mouth to munch on. ]

[haillenarte]

Mm.

[...that's apparently all francel has to say before he serenely continues staring at haurchefant's ass from across the room.]

[bloodbrine]

[ Twelve's sake, Francel. At least make your ogling a little less obvious.
Seeing as he's... amusing himself... Merlwyb will just politely excuse herself to relocate elsewhere. ]

[haillenarte]

[wow there's nothing wrong with making sure your best friend is doing his squats properly okay!!

nothing!!
wrong!!]

[bloodbrine]

[ Uh huh.

It totally has nothing to do with those sweaty glistening chest muscles or anything, and absolutely not to do with ser knight's legs/thighs/butt in motion.
rest in pepperonis, Francel. yours is the worst kept secret in snowhell. ]