Aalakrys

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

Hey, guys - my in-laws came over for a bit, then my baby was being very needy, so I wasn't able to get a post in tonight. Tomorrow though~ Love Fridays. ^^

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Promises Kept

---

The ever-present small smile on Penelope's lips spread as the shuttle view shown a familiar little beat up truck. She hadn't forgotten her plans, and felt mighty bad she'd kept 'em waiting this long, but she'd promised - letting them know it'd probably be late. There hadn't been any expectations on either of them showing, but here they were.

"Nice shutt-o," Gavin, the one who'd been driving her up the shore the previous day said in that all-too intoxicating accent. His mate, Corbin, was nowhere to be found. He must've caught her glance around, because he answered the question the look asked. "His ma got called in on emergency, leavin' him with the little ankle bitters, and they got to be tucked in early or it's pandie next morning."

That sounded fair, Pen thought, and so her smile returned. She leaned down to release Hermie, who'd been tucked in the curl of her hand, back on the beach. The short braid she wore slipped off to dangle until she righted, resting back on her shoulder. She looked out at the ocean, a storm brewing in the distance. It was beautiful as it was deadly, and she loved it. "No waves for us though. It's too late."

She turned back to him, catching him studying her but not phased. It was flattering since he was quite a handsome fella himself with all that stereotypical surfer boy vibe going well for him. Real well. "Swim instead?"

That clearly surprised him, given how his dark eyes darted to the choppy waves and his hand went to that salt-dried wavy hair. "Ya … " he hesitated, maybe wondering if he should complete the question on how certain she was about that being a good idea. Instead, she was pleased by the fact he shifted back to her direction. "Ya got bathers on under that?"

Penelope glanced down at her cotton over top and pants combo as it danced along her skin in the wind, as if she had to check. She grinned back up at him from her lashes. "Can't say I do. Pretty bold of a fella to ask a lady that."

She held out her hand to him then as she lifted her gaze. It was pretty cute how shy a guy could get all of a sudden. But, he wasn't stupid.

They didn’t make it further than thigh-deep off shore before Penelope whirled around, either on her own or at Gavin’s direction - hard to tell since it seemed simultaneous, both caught up in their own exhilaration of the moment. The ocean’s night chill was nearly forgotten as it ebbed and flowed all around them, even as they crashed to the wet sand and it pooled over and around them.

Would’ve been nice to take him up on the offer to spend the night, wake up in those wiry arms in the cabin of the truck on the beach, storm threatening all around. But, she had to get some sleep if they were to be flyin’ to Greenleaf the next day after picking up a haul of fish. So when Penelope returned with the shuttle later that night, her damp hair hung loose and she smelled of ocean. Sand and salt alike needed washing off, but she didn't mind what didn’t brush away. Not. at. all.

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

I'm not sure how much of Kythor is showing to identify as a tiefling when Rinx gets closer, so I left it open. It wouldn't really phase him anyway - not a tiefling. xD

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

Rinx

Delicate elven hands continue to move over the zither until the song Rinx had been playing comes to its end. While he'd been playing, he considered the options in the room. Humans were much more likely to buy into mysticism of a fortune telling from a moon elf, though he didn't entirely rule out the half-elves or dwarf. Though most dwarves scoff at the idea of luck and fate, those that had strong convictions in their deity could be played just as easily as a piece of music. The one present likely had such faith, but Rinx would hold his reservation for now. Half-elves were a stronger bet, depending on which half ruled their sensibilities. Honestly, it all came down to individuals there.

So, instead of hone in on any one specifically, he decided to move about the room and observe for the time being. The finery of the dress the elf wore making her appear all the more graceful. If a request was asked of him, he would play or spin a story, ultimately ending up alongside one of the human's he'd noticed earlier. In a tailored feminine voice only one such as a changeling could create and practice with until perfected, Rinx spoke to the not-quite human. "Good evening, sir."

Though it was bait, a little piece, it hadn't been abnormal now that the moon elf had mingled along the hall. Hopefully the response would be telling. "Care for a tune, or perhaps a tale?"

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

Rinx

All the while the adventuring party was completing their latest quest, the gentle melodious music of a zither played all around. The bard playing was a female moon elf, methodically plucking away at the drow spidersilk cords so the tune played at just the right balance of lively yet relaxing. It was a talent, knowing how to feel the room for what was needed - that and time of day. The rowdy folks in most taverns came in after working hours. But, this was not a bustling city and it was not the time of the week when everyone was ready to unwind with bawdy songs and chants.

Thus, Rinx had chosen to become his favorite persona, the delicate moon elf. Generally appealing to most, and known to be wanderers so likely to come through this town. His reasons for visiting were his own, but it never hurt to make those around him more comfortable. An elf was far more welcome than a changeling in most places, and he preferred moon elf because it was close to his own visage. Gender didn't exactly matter to him, but women got better tips in his experience. The money was always needed for good accommodations, if he was paying. Since he was staying for the time being, it seemed best to pay rather than get a reputation this early on.

So, he played, like a good bard should. The journey to the town had been inspirational, at least, and encouraged the flow of his music for the evening. As he played, he scanned the room to survey for potential targets. A moon elf could play into his favorite con, and he'd used her several times in other haunts. Or, versions of her. If things got too hot, he'd have to alter cheekbones or ear tilt, add new markings or remove some, but the elf had been on the right side of the law and thus his longest running persona. She was the infiltrator, and that was exactly what he was here to do.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Plans Change

---

As tempting as it was to crawl back under the rumpled patchwork when she returned to her quarters, Penelope resisted. There were shells that needed the sea scrubbed off, and her short journey back to collect them had an idea brewing. Talkin’ on barefoots and trades made her formulate what to do with her goods even more. Now there was a reason to have everything ready. But… there was a hitch or two in her plans now because of it.

Going to Greenleaf meant speakin’ with the captain. And likely Abby as well, because she’d certainly noticed when Penelope went poking around in the roster. Maybe Rex, too. Naw, Cal could tell the big guy, if it came up. The idea of the less than liberal, ‘least when it came to details, captain sharing anything made her smirk though.

But it quickly turned back into a pensive frown as she surveyed her goods she’d been spreading across the bed she’d tidied up. Today was her day to sell. Not the shells - that was all new and found here. But the things from other places in the ‘verse. Things she’d made. Barefoot folk would offer trades for it, not coin. The only problem was that Penelope liked the idea of both. True barefoot didn’t use coin for their goods, but they also didn’t make things out of what they found either.

Hands on her hips, she puzzled it out. Scraps could go for a good trade. And she had some wholes left that she hadn’t touched yet - been saving them. Those, she reasoned, would have to work. Most barefoot wouldn’t want a made, an unnatural. A rare few - like her - would trade them proper. Near abouts good as coin.

Penelope bit her lip lightly, worrying at it with her fists in her hips digging in a bit while she thought. Reckon I won’t sell today… Can wait to hawk the whole set in Greenleaf if’n there ain’t a barefoot joinin’ us. If there ain’t some sideways scheme brewin’ that I won’t know ‘bout till I’m in it.

The last bit wasn’t an unkindness towards Cal. She believed he’d hold his word - hoped he would anyway. It was more to do with the fact that being home was always tricky for other reasons. But that wasn’t here-and-now. Here-and-now was shells and showing Sam Hermie and relaxing with Abby later on. Maybe some fried fish and time spent makin’ up some more wares.

Tonight, she’d think on what to say to the captain. He was a no-questions-asked sort of person, so likely she didn’t have to say much. It wasn’t like she had a warrant out on her. Though, if Cal was hoping to find work on Greenleaf, he’d have a better chance of getting it without eyes on him if Penelope Randell was not his pilot. Yeah, that’s what she’d say. Vague, just like he likes.

Now that worry was off her chest, she could set to work without it loomin’ over her. Usually, she just cast things off, but this was sort of serious. And she knew when to be serious, though most people thought she too detached to muster it up. To be bothered or to make a stand. But Rex had seen it first, then Cal. Weren’t no need to go about like that all the time, so she didn’t. Instead, she found harmonic tranquility in just being in the moment.

With some plans, of course. That’s what landed her standing in a shop lookin’ over a series of different small handtools. The circuits in her old soldering iron went kaput on her, so that was a necessary purchase. But shops like these were a trap for a crafter like her. Versatility was a general rule of thumb, especially with her lifestyle, so she could talk herself out of a rock tumbler. What caught her eye was a mini-rotary cutter. Second-hand, but the blade wasn’t warped or dinged. And she always wanted one…

She got back around midday, and decided the best place to do some work was in her usual spot since she’d already been out and about enough after all. Besides, she had to show Sam a real-life sea critter. Later on, she’d take Hermie back out to his home - she’d promised him that, and she was good on her promises. Humans, AI, and sea critters alike. Till that time came though, anyone needing her could find her in the avionics bay, her motley collection spread all around (neatly, at least, so no vents or panels were obstructed - couldn’t do that to the Girl). That was after she’d discovered the new spot Sam had been relocated to, of course, and showed off Hermie - who sat in his little dish of sand beside her while she chatted away with the AI about her trip to the beach. Sure, she could do it from the pilot's chair, but there was more space on the floor and part of her project involved that black box.

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

Alrighty, I'll work up a post and put it in sometime tonight, tomorrow latest. :D

EDIT: okie, got a intro post up. I hope it's okay?

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Phew, finally caught up reading. The siblings are adorable, especially Isaac and his getting a date. How cute.

D&D 5e Rime of the Frostmaiden.

Rinx, Changeling Bard

Masquerade Personas

Valna Moonsong

Race: Moon Elf

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Shell Sorting is Serious Business

---

The latent hummed groan that came from beneath a pile of patchwork quilt as Penelope stretched her tender legs was the first indication the pilot was waking. When between ports, she operated more like clock-work, keeping to a set schedule that mostly left her in the flight deck. But, when the ship she was piloting was docked, she was one to fully embrace shore-leave and off-duty life unless the captain called on her for something or another.

A sigh escaped her lips as she pulled the blanket off her head, her eyes staring up at the curved ceiling of her quarters. When she’d made it back in the late hours of the night, Penelope had been ready for sleep. It had been a good day, everything was good with the captain, she’d made a new set of local friends, and the shore supplied her with a very good haul. Though her legs were sore from all the walking, she couldn’t be sore herself. Besides, as her smile returned, it was a good sort of pull in her calves. Once she got up the ladder, a little walk around would stretch it right out.

But first - the treasure! The young woman’s head turned on her pillow to the backpack she’d placed down carefully in the corner of the room, out of foot traffic if she got up in the middle of the night. Again she stretched out, the blanket still covering her bare legs, and carefully dragged the pack over by the just captured strap. Lifting it up and placing it on her covered lap, she unclasped the flap that secured the largest part first and began to pull out her findings.

Penelope had been mindful to take some cloth with her to wrap up the more fragile pieces and a few small plastic bottles for smaller prizes. Among the scraps of burlap and cotton were cowries, winkles, whelks, scallops, lettered olives, augers, and conkles and many more. They all had nice color splashes or patterns, separating them from the many that had littered the stretch of sand she’d walked on. A circular dish with a twisted lid secured small sand dollars, and a large one as big as her hand was safely tucked in the front pocket so it wouldn’t get broken on the journey back. Inside a tiny corked bottle was a star-shaped white remnant she’d found inside the center of a broken one. There was a chance to get a large starfish, but she saw its little tendrils moving and instead returned it to the sea just in case it was still alive. Later on, she’d found a few small dried out ones and decided to give them a new purpose so pocketed them in the other front pocket.

Admittedly, her favorite thing to find was sea glass and the local friends she had made had not steered her wrong at all. That beach had an abundance of it. Recycling recycled goods brought a smile to her face, and the pouch she had pulled out had her positively beaming. That was for later though, she knew, so she set it aside in the circular spread of sea forming around her atop the quilt.

The task at hand was to make a decision she couldn’t make last night: which one of the shells said ‘Abby’? The backpack now returned to the floor empty, her hazel eyes studied the contestants all laid out before her. First, there was a perfect pair forming the angel wings that gave the shell its name - half a foot long and still connected while flat open. It was an incredible find. The matching zebra ark shell seemed a better fit for Abby, looking more like the wings of a fiery little sprite. But her eyes kept straying over to the conches.

Like the sand dollars, she’d collected a variety of sizes, but there were also different designs to these lovely shells. As she was hunting, she found more than a few that had a little critter still living inside. Nearly all, she’d returned to where they were, but one… she picked up the shell she’d carried in her hand the entire way back. It was a little thing, white and spiraled with tan. Inside, her new little friend peeked out at her from his shell at being lifted from the circular tray filled with sand that she’d left him on while she slept.

“What do ya say, Herbert? A conch for Abbs?” She grinned, tilting him to look at the choices. He started to creep out of his shell a little, getting a laugh from her. “No, we’re not looking for new real estate, mister. But… that is a nice one.”

After setting Herbert the hermit crab back in his temporary lodging, she carefully crawled out from her sea bed so as to not disturb the strayed items and went through the motions of getting dressed. Trading her long jersey knit sleeping gown for a loose cotton top and pair of wide-legged cloth capris that she tied at the waist before tying back her mussed hair, Penelope gave a gentle brush of her finger to Herbert before leaving with the shell that she had no idea what it was aside from knowing it was Abby’s.