CanisMajoris2

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

Ocellus Aquilae

Ocellus was almost instantly enamored by the elf, and for a moment forgot the drunken peasant blubbering before him. His amusement run thin, he stood and gently tossed the half-empty coin purse back in the man's lap: "I'm wearing three things that can kill you instantly. I'd suggest you get some better eyes and pick a fight with someone who won't kill you nine times over. Though he REALLY doesn't want to do that." Ocellus was no killer, though he was terribly impatient.

He turned and started walking over towards the woman, sheathing his dagger to let himself become more approachable.

("Ah... were that even possible. I'm wearing more weapons than I know what to do with... maybe... maybe if I told her they were for hunting. Mmm! I hunt rabbits with a sword!")

Ocellus laughed affably to himself as he stared at the woman's arm. He had watched her as she entered--she had invited attention with that dress of hers--and for a moment he thought her a mere prostitute on route for another job. But she was keeping something; perhaps something valuable. He had seen her touch it... right there... on the arm. It could be nothing: people touched their arms all the time. But she had been frightened. All the same... it could just be some useless family heirloom or a locket from some long-lost and forgotten love.

Or it could be a priceless jewel... ("Far too small...")

Elven prostitutes were rare as it were, anyhow. He felt that if he were to rob her, it might be better to do so quickly and negate the effects the quickened elven mind would have on his true intentions. Truth be told, she was beautiful...

("Far TOO beautiful... reminds me of that time in Graados... those lovely naiads... they kept us warm and safe in the boat as we were going across--me and my compatriots--and for the longest time they would stroke our hair and whisper these sweet nothings into our ear. But the one caressing my head had grown lax in her seduction, and she suddenly yanked at my neck before I was completely limp. I remember now... wrenching away... sliding the slippery sword out of its scabbard... hacking as the ones I called friends became the deep's graves. It was so much colder... became so hard and grating... the coldness was inescapable and tangible... like a mud sphere that only strengthens the more you try to kick it away...")

Ocellus had paused and stared at the elf, suddenly very wary of her. Business. It was business. He robbed them; gave it away so that they would learn something or another. He smiled and spoke over Allara's shoulder: "Now what is a lovely specimen like you doing in a little place like this?" He tried to keep the suspicion out of his voice, and the easiest way to do so was to haughtily smile on one side of his face.

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

Ocellus Aquilae

Ocellus watched the man eagerly, with both a desire for further loot and the trepidation that he might be losing some down the way! It had been entirely too easy to snag--no one really protected their wealth if they didn't have any in the first place--and Ocellus had finished rummaging through the bag of coins, setting it beside him. He was sipping a new mug of beer that he had bought with the "repurposed" money, flipping a copper coin to himself as the peasant walked up.

He grinned and stood, gesturing to the chair across from him: "Sir! Sit down! Have some drink! Please! I've got money to spare!" Ocellus spread a hand and dropped a single copper coin on the table in front of him with an amiable, almost innocent laugh.

THUD. Ocellus glanced at the door at the sound, momentarily distracted:("Mmmm. Something heavy outside... ah well. Let me just get my dues.")

"Pah! More hooligans tipping carts, do you know?" Ocellus laughed and sipped at the mug again, utterly enchanted at the possibility of robbing this man blind. And of robbing his prostitute blind as well. Mmmm... The oldest profession makes the oldest money... it doesn't go anywhere. All you do is work and work, and you're rewarded anyhow: plus you get paid! Ocellus glanced at the elven mistress, flipping a wink at her before turning back to the man once more: "Please... sit down. You ought to know how exquisite the beer is here. You bought it after all."

This obvious bait is followed by Ocellus nonchalantly pulling out the silver dagger to pick at his fingernails.

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

GEE WILIKERS

I SAY THAT FLOW BE STARTIN', EH?

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

@Jin Of ManaThis is accurate, sir. At least for me

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

What are the rules on posting? Like obviously don't go too fast, but should we wait for everyone to go before going ourselves?

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

@BlytheChiNo yeah. That's the point. He's bored and making up stories. And he's trying to see if she'll do something a little extra, and is obviously disappointed. ;)

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

Reply is posted!

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

Ocellus Aquilae

Ocellus took a small, maybe gentle swig from his mug before wiping his lips and staring off vaguely at a nearby waitress. She was a fine looking piece, if not a little thin, that he had been eyeing for quite some time with the lazy notion of bedding in some way or another. Ocellus smiled as she made her round back to his table, peering up at her soft, round face with what he hoped was noble charm.

" 'Nother beer, if you please," he said, sliding the mug into her hand and pressing a copper coin into the other. She made no expression of either shyness or repulsion, and Ocellus knew then he had no chance. Sighing as she walked away, he leaned back in the chair and regarded the patrons. Waiting for his contact had become rather dull, and he had resorted to making up stories about the people inside.

The owner of the place--what was her name ("Doesn't matter much anyhow...")--she had been caught in a shipwreck and thrown into the muddiest slag of volcanic rock imaginable. Her ears had been cut up by little pixies, so that they grew into sharp points. She used the wood from the shipwreck to then build this very tavern and make her living by selling the alcohol that was left over (it was most certainly a rum-runner).

"God, how the mind wanders! Where on Earth is that damn peasant?" Ocellus muttered aloud, snagging the beer mug only to remember it wasn't there. He sighed, watched the newest fellow drop some coin bags.

Coin bags.

"Oh my. Isn't that interesting," the thief muttered as a smile crept across his face.

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

Ocellus Aquilae

Name: Ocellus Aquilae
Age: "This and that... older then some, younger than others..." (Thirty-three.)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Occupation: Former soldier turned subsistence thief

Personality: He is facetious and sarcastic, but in a rather lighthearted manner that doesn't belie actual animosity. He's in many ways a nihilist who more or less acts the way one would act if he had nothing left to live for. He's not particularly angry or offended by much; not too terribly concerned with anything going on. He is unimpressed by those lurking in the shadows merely for the purpose of lurking in the shadows, and this manifests as a haughty, almost aristocratic arrogance. He is bubbly and friendly most of the time, however.

Bio: Ocellus was born the son of a minor noble, raised in the luxurious apartments of royalty, and cascaded in the rich lifestyles of the elite. He was naturally a trifle upset when this plush life was interrupted by one of the various wars wrought upon the kingdom by the searing bellows of fate. Forced into the soldier role by his father--who wished for his son to earn favor with a higher lord--he served as a knight in several minor skirmishes before being caught up in a major battle that left him horseless and alone.

Forced to survive with his limited knowledge of the outside world, he returned to the army some time later much the wiser and much the thinner. He scorned the rich armor and horses of the knights to take the ranger's cloak and dagger. He served as a scout, learning the ways of archery and swordsmanship before finally ending his service a much-changed man.

His father--having brought upon the wrath of a noble--was murdered by poisoned wine before Ocellus could return. Vowing revenge and at the same time losing faith in humanity, he fled the aristocratic lifestyle to pursue a career of thievery. This he used mostly for personal gain--although on occasion saving the odd starving orphan--and eventually became a minor criminal in the city at large.

Set upon a mission to take the aristocracy down a peg, Ocellus remains in the underbelly world of crime, constantly on the move. This makes his human relationships difficult to maintain, and he has had naught but the occasional fling to keep him sated and sane while his greater goal is slowly realized. At the moment of time, he is caught in the midst of a great heist on his first notable target: the High Lord Tax Collector.

What's in the bag:
"Oh, nothin' much..."
Regular sword with leather handle
Silver dagger to deal with those pesky magical folk
A recurve bow (smaller and easier to conceal)
A quiver of arrows
A silver shield medallion

"Even I don't know everything about me..."

Extra: He loves it when people fight. That means he can rob them blind.

Appearance

The Strumpet Inn (Open)

@BlytheChiHey, pal. Would it be cool if I did a C.S.?