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    1. Strafe 10 yrs ago

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@karamonnom @BlackCat @AgentFallenSoul @Mokley @Metronome @Keplo @NorthernGR @Benjimus @Illogical Jim @ViolentViolet @SilverWolfAngel

So for the tl;dr, Edward continues to engage in pleasantries with Milo, Pallas, and newcomers Seloria and Luca. Then Jargo appears to mock him, which proves to be the final straw that breaks Edward's back. He chases after Jargo with his gun, but on the way Dirion's thrown dagger slashes his arm, and out of reflex he shoots a shotgun load wildly in the middle of the tavern.

Do with it what you will. Most of you have superpowers and magic and whatnot so it's probably nbd, but what would happen if a stray pellet were to even scratch Ealdwine's precious Arthelia?

That aside, no one's ever heard a gunshot before, so that alone might be enough to rile everyone up.

Atleast Gharlyc is safe tho. :D @Tricheus

And welcome, Benjimus!
Pallas seemed taken by the music as well. Fair enough, but he was quite disappointed that she would say that of Ealdwine.

It was also quite unfortunate that the young eyepatched girl seemed to want no part in his pleasantries, and Edward was quite at a loss. But no matter. What could be done if the girl simply did not have the desire, nay, the ability to trade words of import?

He did not have to ponder over Milo for long, as a rather scantily clad, but cloaked woman approached, donning yet another eyepatch. It seemed as if the tavern’s combined depth perception continued to deteriorate by the hour.

"Seems I’m new to this place, and you three seem to be some of the nicer of people here, where could an oldie like me find a blacksmith? It seems old faithful has given out on me"

Edward brightened up at her entrance, half out of reflex, but half out of genuine relief that the tension with Milo could be broken and conversation could continue. He wasn’t quite so used to all of this direct confrontation.

The sultry barmaid brought along tankards of Ale for all of them, and he returned her flirtatious smile with a tip of the hat, and confident smile of his own. Taking a sip of the ale however, his expression immediately soured, and he hesitantly placed the tankard back on the bar counter. Disgusting commoner drink, and a far cry from the fine ales of the trappist monks. But as he had trained himself to do, he reapplied his smile, and let the night continue.

He let Milo and Pallas have their first words to the newcomer, then he laughed, and waved a hand in play dismissal of Milo’s affront. “Oh madame, while I cannot help you on your search for a blacksmith, surely you need not refer to yourself as one so advanced in age! One need only take a cursory glance at you to conclude that Juventus herself (Roman Goddess of youth) would envy your beauty. To what then do I owe the honor, if I have the pleasure of entertaining your company for longer than just a moment?”

Yet another figure approached, clad in black robes, holding a content gray cat. It was becoming quite the crowd. It was a young clergyman, who sat down at the table and addressed them in a kind priestly voice.

But Edward was allergic to cats.

He could not help himself from shooting tentative glances at the wicked ball of fur as he greeted the stranger. “Ah, hallowed be the name of the Lord, and greetings in Christ, dear priest.” As much as he tried to put on airs however, his attention was solely fixed on the damned creature. He could feel the skin on his neck beginning to itch.

No really. He could feel the ruffle of his shirt toyed around with.

Immediately, he whipped around and saw a feathery skeleton bird cloak laughing at him. Nay, a man in a feathery skeleton bird cloak laughing at him. Another interruption. By God, Edward had never been so rudely interrupted so frequently before in his life.

”Aren’t you the prettiest angel? Has the Maker called you down to Earth to play an undertaker?”

The voice sounded from within the figure, deep but treacherously humored, sending a chill down his spine.

But a man of the house of Hart-Ellington would not take this lying down. As the man fled back to his seat, he immediately abandoned his companions, and pulled the hand cannon from his back, pointing it at the retreating figure.

But It was only for show. He wasn’t going to shoot it. Heavens no.

He yelped, “Good sir, I hope you are prepared to apologize for this grave travesty of honor. You should know better than to--”

SSLASHH-- A sharp pain flooded Edward’s arm as a flying dagger ripped through his coat and bit into the flesh of his arm. Blood splattered as he cried out, and his arm flailed wildly.

Then his finger pulled the trigger out of reflex.

BANG

Edward’s hand cannon discharged, sending twenty lethal pellets of hot lead flying across the tavern.

@karamonnom @BlackCat @AgentFallenSoul @Mokley @Metronome @Keplo @NorthernGR @Benjimus @Illogical Jim @ViolentViolet @SilverWolfAngel
When we get the chance and if we're all still alive by then, Edward needs to challenge Fate, Milo, and Seloria to a bar game based on depth perception. #eyepatchlyfe

@AgentFallenSoul @BlackCat @SilverWolfAngel
I'm good if ya'll are good. But Edward's totally just gonna unload a few shotgun rounds, hide behind the counter and maybe start sobbing.
All these ticking time bombs waiting to explode... exciting!
I like the concept! I'm not entirely sure if I should take on another RP, but I'll keep an eye on this one as more information comes out!
@NorthernGR

Yeah, seen a fair amount, interacted a bit, though maybe not too close in blood... I'm thinking second cousin.
@karamonnom

Edward’s attempt to cover up his disgust did not seem to make it past Pallas’ keen eyes.

"Edward, is everything okay?" She asked, with genuine concern. Oh what a lovely thing it was to be fussed over by a woman as kind and true as she. Though she may not be noble by title, she is surely noble in heart, Edward thought.

Nonetheless, he had to play his part, so he smiled and raised his eyebrow quizzically. “Whatever could you possibly mean? The music? I was merely stricken at his masterful rendition of Galeas and Griselda. It just so happens to be one of my favor--”

THUNK-- the sound of a blade piercing into wood silenced the tavern, and Edward stood perfectly still, not moving an inch as he listened to the exchange between Ealdwine and the oddly colored girl. One thing he knew, at least, was that his former music instructor was as cocksure as ever. Even when faced with flying knives.

As the music began playing again, Edward resumed his cover up. “Well as I was saying, dear Pallas, Galeas and Griselda is a lovely piece of music, and it would be a travesty not to draw attention to this wonderful bard’s performance,” Edward stated with a strain, lying through his teeth with a smile. The last thing he ever wanted to do in life was praise Ealdwine even for an apt choice in wardrobe.

@BlackCat

He turned to Milo, who seemed to have been ignoring him this whole time.

“Ah! In another short order of business, I must apologize again to you, dear Milo. I’ve not yet introduced myself,” Edward said. “My name is Edward Hart-Ellington, heir to the Hart Ellington nobility and estate. Pleased to be at your service.” Edward removed his hat, and bowed, thinking that perhaps this would help the girl brighten up. Who could resist his irresistible charm? No one, that’s who. That’s why it’s irresistible, Edward mused amusedly.
@NorthernGR you don't have to add this in the relationships, but I feel like Brigen is probably somehow related to Edward.
“My dear girl, how on earth did you do that?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a sharp hiss pierced through the tentative murmur of the tavern, and the young girl’s sharply nailed hand came slashing at his face, stopping just before she could gouge out his eyeballs. There wasn’t even time for him to flinch. For several seconds, Edward found himself staring at the girl’s arched fingers, swearing that her palm lines where arranged in the shape of a fearsome beast.

"I'm sorry, Sir" the bartender snapped. "This lovely young lady was ordering first, if you have something you want to do, you can wait your turn."

@BlackCat @SilverWolfAngel

Frozen where he stood, Edward trembled as his eyes peered over at the bartender. He blinked, gulped, then stepped back a bit too hastily, laughing with an artificial heartiness, adjusting his coat lapels, and fixing his hat. “Haha, oh dearest me, where are my manners,” Edward sheepishly squeaked. “I must apologize for overstepping my boundaries. Surely, I mean not to intrude. I was merely enraptured by this lovely young lady’s display. I’ve not seen anything like it before in my li--”

He noticed that the young bartender’s stony expression had not budged a millimeter since he began his speech. In fact, she looked ready to pounce upon him - and not in the way he would prefer.

“Well, I mean--,” Edward continued to stammer, and forced out a weak chuckle, though he slowly moved his right hand to his back, toward the handle of his hand cannon. Before he could reach it though, The girl took her own lethal hand back, allowing Edward room to breathe. Just as she had done before, she wrote her words upon the air.

My species is mute out of water. So it's a hereditary ability for communication.

He straightened up again and took it all in, though the bartender still seethed. How marvelous that he should be able to encounter such an exotic creature, Edward thought. And an amphibious one at that. His fascination with the girl began to grow.

All of this is not to say that Edward was totally unaware of what was happening around him though. Growing up in a court of nobles required him to read through pretenses, ensure that everyone felt important, and uphold the code of pompous futility during all proceedings. Years of this had trained Edward’s eye to catch all sorts of social cues, and quite easily, he noticed that he had caught the attention of one of the other barmaids. He smirked to himself. If all else failed this evening, at least there would be something to do. He would let her come to him though.

Of course he also paid attention to the odd gray skinned girl nearby, talking to the portly man who appeared to be the owner. The girl honestly sent an odd sensation down his spine.

Also, in the corner of his eye, likely talking to the aforementioned barmaid, stood a familiar looking figure with a lute. He investigated no further though, as to fully turn towards him would be rude to the ladies he was already entertaining.

@karamonnom

As he fixed his eyes on his charming eyepatched companions, a lovely voice lilted through the damp air.

"Edward! It's good to see you again! I do hope you remember me. We met last week?”

By the heavens, what luck! Edward put on his gaudiest smile and instantly turned towards the source of the voice, gasping with contrived wonderment. “Aha! If it isn’t the beautiful Ms. Pallas! How I’ve dreamed that I’d once again be so fortunate as to gaze upon your resplendent visage and hear your voice as sweet as a songbird’s. How could I forget that wonderful evening we spent?” He kneeled down to kiss her hand, pretending not to mind that it was blackened by the dirt of a long journey.

”Oh who is your friend by the way?" Pallas asked.

Before he could pick himself up off the ground, the girl swiftly moved her hands to write on the air.

1) He's not my friend.
2) My name's Milo. But, I don't supposed you could've just asked me.

Gah, I'm so sorry. Yeah, not really Ugh. I'm trying to be nice. But it just isn't working.


Edward quickly sprang up, brushed off the dirt from his knee and chuckled nervously. “Come now, dear girl. While it’d be remiss to call us lifelong companions, surely you and I have gotten along swimmingly!” He flashed her a prepackaged smile, with a gleam in his eye that pleaded with her to play along, So her name’s Milo, he thought.

@Illogical Jim

Just then, the man in the corner with a lute introduced himself and struck the first notes on his instrument. At the first sequence, Edward’s ears perked up. He knew this introduction very well! It was Galeas and Griselda, a song quite beloved by his one time former music instructor. that fussy prick.

The plucking continued, linking the familiar melody at times with a masterfully subtle upper organum. A tasteful display of polyphony on the lute, though arranged in a sequence he had surely heard before. Eh. Surely a product of mere coincidence.

The man’s voice rang out like a bell, pure and true:

“Beneath the tower the foemen shined…”

Dear heavens, it’s him! What is that sorry b-ast-ard doing here? Edward’s face visibly soured as he turned to face Ealdwine, who seemed not to recognize him. He remembered the countless hours in his teenage years, forced to sit in the music chamber with the man, working through scales and plucking techniques. In an instant though, he caught himself and reapplied a charming grin as he turned back to his companions.
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