Knock 3 times on the ceiling if you want me

"Kudos for you." Edy replied with a shrug. However the bard's request made Edy's brow raise in a manner that seemed decidedly unfriendly to his plea. "That all depends on him, I guess. If he doesn't do anything worthy of being threatened, I won't threaten him." She said a touch warily. As their continued conversation would likely show, Edy had allegiances to her family. If Zariah said to kill the hunter, friend of Jigano's or not, she'd be hardpressed to ignore the command.

"Why, cause we've the same coloured skin?" Edy asked with a smirk. "But no. We're all Launceleyns and so all vaguely related way back, but Zariah and I would have to go pretty far back to find that connection."

His arched brow mirrored Edy's, his expression turning more thoughtful at her sudden switch from playful to something that was far more guarded, even verging on sullen. "Hmm." was all he said, looking a little sad - as much by her turn towards unfriendliness as by the answer itself. Rory had been through enough at the young Launceleyn woman's hands that Jigano wished to protect his friend from further trauma, but he knew better than to try and control Edy - though such was apparently possible, given how she closed up when Zariah's name left his lips, for all that she had been the one to bring her up.

"Well you did say she was family," he pointed out reasonably. "And she doesn't seem old enough to be your mother. I guessed sibling or cousin, but," he shrugged, lips quirking back into a wry smile, "I've been wrong before, and I will be again." He tilted his head at his friend, thoughtful as he took in her closed stance and the bright fire that had banked to smoldering embers in her eyes. "For someone who is family... you don't seem to like talking about her very much...?" he noted cautiously, leaving the observation hanging on a question in case she cared to correct him again.

Edy shrugged knowing her response had been intentionally prickly given the subject matter. "Says the man who has never mentioned his family." The Launceleyn quipped, pointing out that not wanting to talk about them wasn't necessarily an indication of anything.

"But she's the head of the Launceleyns, what else d'you want to know?" Edy asked, arms crossed and brows raised.

"My family isn't here," he pointed out, but then relented and gave a slight shrug, looking over to the companions. "I have no brothers or sisters. My parents died several years ago... and they had left their homeland to travel to the place where I was born, so I didn't have any extended family, either. So... yes, I tend to be curious about other people's families. That whole 'loreseeker' thing, you know, to seek out new knowledge." He offered her a lopsided smile as an olive branch.

Her abrupt question and closed body language made it clear that it wasn't a subject she was open to, however, and he merely shook his head. "I was curious about you, Edy, that's all. When I've seen you together you seem to admire her, as I said, which... the one meeting I had with her was brief. And she was rude." His grin widened a bit and he shrugged again. "We went our separate ways without even exchanging names, if I recall it right. But if you like her, I figured there had to be more to her." He raised a brow and waited to see if the saucy firecracker would have anything to shed light on the mysterious Zariah or if she preferred to keep the woman a mystery.

Caving easily, Edy grinned and shrugged. "I expect an entire fucking book about me then." She replied flashing the bard a white smile.

The mention of Z being rude only made Edy snort and nod. She'd heard far worse, but guessed that Jigano was likely picking his words carefully as it was. If I like her. That made Edy pause, the Launceleyn-girl regarding the bard steadily for a second, before shrugging off the weightiness of the consequences of that statement. "Family is family, and for the Launceleyns it isn't even remotely debatable. I think I told you before that where we came from we were magical enforcers, ish. Tethered by a magical bullshit bond to the whiny-ass and weak monarchy. We helped them stay in power, and to do that, you really had to have your shit together. We were raised and trained in a compound together, with the head of the family always calling the shots. Z is the head, even here. She calls the shots."

Respect? Like? Those were nice-to-have's for a Launceleyn, but were far from the norm.

"You've already got four chapters," he teased back, glad that she was relaxing again. "Keep saving my skin from rock monsters and finding my treasures and I'll see you get another four!" He had something he needed those glasses for, in fact, if he could find Eliza again.

But Edy was here right now,, and her response to the topic of Zariah was fascinating, even above and beyond the standoffish woman being her family. He noted her hesitation, and the way she didn't bother to confirm 'like' or 'love' as part of the Launceleyn equation. "But there is no monarchy," he said softly. "And no tether. I should know," he added, lips quirking wryly. "Coming through the portal broke my curse, though it took me a while to realize it. Though family... well. That's a different sort of chain."

"Four? Is that all? You better have been using those fingers for something much more interesting, if not writing about me." Edy cackled.

Yet Edy almost said. Almost. Whatever her thoughts might be, whatever shit she thought was absolutely going to go down, the demarcation between family and thinking-for-herself was as crystal clear as the smear of dead earth around the hollowed grounds from the barrier.

"Oh yeah? You were cursed too? Lemme guess, gave up your beautiful singing voice to buy a hairbrush? Isn't that how it goes?" Scrunching her nose, Edy shrugged. It wasn't like there was a ton of time for nursery rhymes or stories in the Launceleyn compound.

"Why, my blazing baroness, you know exactly what I've been using these fingers for," he pretended to pout. "Playing my flute... for the entertainment of yourself and the rest of the Rathskeller, of course!" He smiled innocently up at her, but his golden eyes were sly. "It's harder than it looks, and I need to keep my digits flexible enough to fill the holes even with the most challenging fingerings."

He found it odd that she didn't respond to his comments about freedom from monarchy, given how regimented Northhaven had apparently been, but perhaps she had merely been thinking of Maea's government. That hadn't really gotten anywhere, as near as he could tell, but maybe that was for the best. The Hollowed Grounds needed something to rally around before a leader would make sense, and so far not even the fall of the Barrier and the meetings with the Fae had been enough for that.

"Hmmm I don't know if that would have been a fair trade unless it had also come with a comb and a mirror," he mused thoughtfully, grinning at her teasing. "Nothing so frivolous, alas, though it wasn't the worst curse. Someone among my ancestors had made a deal with a devil at one point. Very legalistic, the devils of my world, unlike demons. It created a binding upon the Oracles in my lineage. My word was, literally, my bond. Breaking oaths or promises resulted in..." he paused, grimacing slightly at the unpleasant memories. "Well. Consequences. I learned very early on not to make promises I couldn't keep, and fairly quickly at that."

Edy merely let her tongue drag across her teeth as the apples of her cheeks plumped up with amusement. "You know what they say when you assume." She purred. "How am I to know what you do in your spare time? What instruments you have or haven't been working on mastering, mm?"

Listening with a raised brow, Edy nodded as if she understood. Her world had its own brand of demons and devils after all. Some of them she even still calmed family. "We'd quite literally burst into flame if we ever obeyed a direct order. There were ways of getting around it, but..." Edy shook her head. "Got to the point we couldn't even be around the royal kids until they reached a certain age. Imagine having some of the most powerful mages in the world at the beck and call of a 5 year old. Drink this imaginary tea, or die! Only it might actually happen."

But all that was in the past, and so Edy merely shrugged it off.

Genuine laughter pealed from the bard, startling Isuma from her games with Bobi before she renewed her playful pouncing with a deep purr of satisfaction at her companion's humor. "Why, Edy, do I detect a hint of musical curiosity in your questions?" Rhetorical though they were, they were still ripe for continuing the back-and-forth teasing. "If you wanted lessons you should have just said so!"

Edy's casual explanation of the consequences of disobeying orders earned a sympathetic grimace - not that she needed or wanted sympathy, but some things were instinctual. "That sounds more like slavery than a simple curse," he said quietly. "Especially since I'm guessing that you weren't born with that geas... but that another human being chose to put it on you." He shook his head lightly, smiling wryly at their tussling companions. "I am glad you're away from all that now. No more royal brats making you drink imaginary tea instead of whiskey!" he tried to cheer things back up from the unpleasant memories. "Or I can offer you some real tea, if you'd like? Alas, all of the good mixers are back at your bar, so all I can offer is some fancy hot water with a bit of cream and sugar."

"If you can't detect it, you aren't listening hard enough." Edy quipped back with a bright grin. Raising a brow, the Launceleyn waggled her fingers suggestively over an imaginary cylindrical object. A clarinet, probably, though given the girth Edy was currently miming, that seemed unlikely. "Will there be a hands-on portion? I'm a much more tactile learner."

"Tomatoe, tomato." Edy replied with a shrug. "Though I guess the same goes for you, huh?" The offering of tea had the younger woman crinkling her nose and shaking her head with a grin. "Fancy water with cream and sugar, huh?" She replied wryly, a look of comical dissatisfaction on her face. "Yeah sure, why not. I guess Bobi can always drink it if I don't."

"Well you know these old ears can't hear as well as they used to," he agreed slyly. "If we weren't in a library I'd tell you to speak up!" Though luckily the guildhall was well-insulated with all the stone around it, so the conversations that took place in its solid confines didn't drift up the stairs to bother the readers above. "And there is always a hands-on portion with music." He tilted his head, watching Edy's miming of playing a cough 'clarinet' with poker-faced thoughtfulness. "Your fingering technique will need quite a lot of work, though... perhaps we should start you out on something a bit simpler. How are you at slapping skin?" he asked, all professional innocence and wickedly bright eyes. He let the question hang in the air for a calculated few seconds before continuing: "I should be able to get some decent leather to make you a drum, and we can start with rhythm before we move on to woodwinds."

He shrugged at the mention of his curse, already rising to set the kettle on the hearth to heat up. "You might be right, though no one could make me do what I didn't want. It wasn't the sort of thing I told people," he pointed out wryly. "And being born with it meant no one but my parents knew about it. I just got in the habit of not promising anything to anyone, just in case something prevented me from fulfilling it. Other people could make promises for me, but as long as I wasn't the one saying the words, the curse didn't bind me. Like you, I learned the loopholes pretty quick." Setting out the cream and sugar - and pouring a little cream into a saucer and a cup for the companions - he gave his friend a sly grin. "It's not often that I get to serve you a drink. How's being a responsible business owner treating you?"

"I could always just be closer." Edy purred with another un-subtle bob of her eyebrows. One day she'd get the old bard to crack and flush his cheeks with something other than amusement. One day, though with things to come, perhaps that day was farther in the future than Edy might have otherwise thought. "Will it? That's the first time I've heard that." The not-teenager chimed back, with a happy grin. Letting the question linger, Edy bit her lip with playful innocence. "Depends if I have consent or not." She trilled. "I have received very different responses in the past." The mage-continued with a cackle. Indeed, on the battlefield her skin slapping was not usually well-received. In other areas though? Well that was a different matter. "Starting with rhythm first, mm? I like it."

Leaning against one of the ledges with a childish sort of boredom, Edy watched the set up of the kettle and the other tea-related requirements. "Did you actually have to say the words I promise, or was it more of an..intentional, thing?"

Without hesitation Bobi immediately plopped her entire face into the saucer, the thick cream sticking to her whiskers and indeed her eyebrows as well. "Whoever said responsible was part of the gig?" Edy replied with a flat grin and another casual shrug of her bony shoulders. "Honestly though, I dunno. I've always been a soldier. It's weird just...being in one place. Doing the same shit."

"You could be," Jigano agreed, nodding sagely. "Why don't you pull up a chair?" Not that he didn't have work to be doing... but making time for Edrei was important, too. "Well of course not, if you haven't taken music lessons before," he teased back, just as pat. "But I'd say the drum will be entirely consenting to your touch, provided your don't scratch or break the skin," he cautioned, keeping up the stuffy-academic act.

As he prepared the refreshments he considered her question on his curse with a wry smile that hid the pain beneath well. "Verbal, thankfully. 'I promise' or 'I will' or 'I give you my word' sort of thing. It might have been stronger with my ancestors, but enough generations had passed before it got to me that it might have diluted it a bit. Though just about any sort of verbal surety triggered it, so I'm used to promising to 'try' to do something, rather than saying I will do it." Ah, the joy of semantics. The devil really was in the details, in his experience.

Jigano snorted softly in amusement at Bobi's inelegant facedive into her saucer, then yelped softly as Isume tried to copy her mentor with her cup. Thankfully the teacup was small enough to keep her feathers out of the cream, and he exhaled softly as one mess was temporarily averted. He grinned back at Edy as he waited for the water to finish boiling, raising a brow at her ambivalence. "'Weird' good, 'weird' bad, or just 'weird' different?" he asked, a little more gently. "Do you miss being a soldier?"