(SE) eyes covered with ink and bleach

SUNJATA

Gods he feels like shit, but there’s still work to be done. Sporting a bruise along his jaw, a split lip, and a tender sore of Deimos’ claws down his side, he tries to stay as still as he can behind the side of the bar – helping out where he can but simply spending a majority of the time working on the inventory of bottles, things he can separate out, bring to Halo for some decent booze in comparison to the piss they sell under the guise of getting drunk.

Haai sits atop the table as well, the wolf/magpie griffin laying languidly on her side, tail feathers brushing against Sunjata’s side where the wounds are occasionally until he moves away from her – hissing something in his native tongue to her with a slight glare. He shifts the shirt along his chest, a dark navy sleeveless one, all tattoos aside from the one on his chest on display with a shark bite scar that peeks just beneath an arm.

The griffin doesn’t seem quite done yet, however, and she scoots herself along the bar a bit closer, tail feathers flicking out to smack him in the side again. “I swear to Safrin.” He grumbles, picking up the griffin and setting her on the floor before he pulls out a glass and fills it with some of his strongest whiskey. He takes a deep sip of it and begins to fiddle in one of the drawers of the bar in search of a pack of cigarettes, the lighter Libbs made him already out and ready in his free hand.

i'll never be that me again

The past several days haven’t been the worst Rance has ever had. That honor goes to the night he was knocked unconscious during a bar brawl and the subsequent days of recovery that included one of the most painful hangovers he’s ever experienced. However, being dumped through a strange gateway and left to wander aimlessly in a potentially hostile forest on a foreign world certainly comes close. While he would have eventually gotten desperate enough to abandon his few belongings and fly out of there in search of civilization, he also knows now that his exit could have just as easily involved death or injury.

Having a guide had been a boon and he was finally following Maea’s advice after a bit of… unforeseen wandering. Just because he could live in the wild as a raven, didn’t mean he actually wanted to. Walking through Sanctuary was a relief after days out in the wilds. Buildings and crowds were by far more comfortable surroundings than thickets and trees and, above all else, taverns were the most interesting place to be.

It took a few tries, but asking around finally got him fresh directions to VlamVloed. Humble on the outside, Rance wasn’t expecting much, but the interior had his brows rising. Not being a dive probably meant any beds would be clean, at least. Passing his gaze around the room, he spotting a likely candidate for proprietor at the bar just as he was in the act of removing an… animal?... from the countertop. He shook his head, reaching up to rake auburn hair out of his eyes, and adjusted his pack on his shoulder. It was going to be just like any other bar. Negotiating for a room should be nothing.

”Hey, you the tavernkeep?” His voice was low, naturally rough. He wasn’t exactly looking his best either, not after spending several days traveling before finally making it to town, but he’d yet to visit a bar that cared about that.

SUNJATA

Of course, the griffin doesn’t remain on the floor for long. Already, when another person steps in does she begin to paw at the countertop – having grown rather large as of late and to the point where her ears can be seen on the other side of the bar, peeking over the top. And for a moment, Sunjata considers shooing her out or moving her literally anywhere else.

But then the voice reaches him while he continues to search in the drawer for the smokes before giving up and closing it to focus his steel gaze on the man that’s addressed him. “Mhm, that’s me.” He offers, voice deep and accented as well. His head tilts somewhat as he focuses on the man, the voice somewhat familiar though he can’t quite place it.

“I’m Sunjata. What can I get for you?” He asks with a slight raise of his brow, resting his forearms on the table, one hand incredibly bruised and somewhat scratched up, bruises to his chest and face. It’s obvious he’s favoring one side of him currently, but he pretends not to notice, waiting patiently to see what the man might want.

i'll never be that me again

Sunjata? Now that was a familiar name. Now, for all he knew, it could be a common name in Caido. Considering all he’d heard from the bat-turned-large black cat was his name, he couldn’t have possible matched voices. If voices even worked the same over the strange mental communication he’d shred with the other Attuned.

He notes both the man’s rugged good looks along with his many injuries out of habit. Someone who’d already been in a fight that rough and was still up and running his business deserved some initial respect, at least. “Rance Grenier. Woman called Maea said you might have room and board I could work for?” He ran his hand through his hair again and offered a crooked half-smile. “I’m new around here.” A simplification, to say the least.

SUNJATA

“Rance.” The name flits around his mind for a brief moment, gaze narrowing slightly on him as he recalls where he’s heard that name. It clicks a small amount as soon as he mentions Maea and his head tilts a small amount avian-like in response to that, a small smirk crossing his face. “Ah, I do have that.” He rumbles somewhat, focusing a bit more on Rance.

The mention that he was new here has Sunjata nodding, reaching for a glass and something half decent of alcohol, pouring it about halfway before sliding it toward Rance before leaning a small amount on the bar. “What kind of work do you do? And what kind of work are you looking for in a place like this?”

i'll never be that me again

It was a relief to hear that Maea had been telling the truth, though that wasn’t a reason to relax. All the confirmation meant was that he had something to negotiate for. He tracked the booze out of the corner of his eye, but kept his attention on the man pouring it. The questions were ones he’d been prepared for to some extent. Hell, they were ones he’d answered in almost every town he’d flown to back home. His expression sobered slightly, but his smile didn’t truly leave. “Manual labor, mostly. Have experience with a bit of everythin’ from roof repairs to bringin’ in the harvest.” He picked up the glass, finally, looking down at what he’d been poured. “I’ve done transcription work as well, mostly personal correspondence and stock records.” And, of course, creating written copies of oral stories, but those were more for himself than something he got paid for. He saluted Sunjata with the glass and brought it to his lips, tilting his head back to take a healthy swig. The burn of good alcohol was familiar, even if the flavor hitting his tongue was definitely different.

SUNJATA

A brow lifts at the mention of manual labor – something well needed in the Grounds. And he surveys Rance a bit more fully, spotting muscle and the like with a hardy exterior. Yes, he’d certainly do well. Not bad on the eyes either. Plus, the fact that he can do transcription work as well is an added bonus – so far Sunjata’s been the only one keeping track of inventory within the VlamVloed. Perhaps a second hand would be needed when he begins to shift his attention toward Torchline anyway.

So he offers a slightly wider smile to the man, shifting in place before the smile shifts to a wince and his free hand moves to the bandage along his side – the gift from Deimos during the hunt – and he pauses just enough to pour himself a glass as well, hoping to drown out the pain of it a bit longer. “All pretty necessary things.” He rumbles with a slight smirk, mask up and on high for hiding everything else within him, the storms that rampaged within.

“I’ve got… Two rooms open right now.” He offers quietly, one was Maea’s and the thought of that has him swallowing a bit hard as he focuses his attention on the glass in his own hand. “I’d be willing to let you stay in one for some extra help around here. Let’s say… Help out with the inventory and bartending when necessary and perhaps some fixes here and there?” An avian tilt of his head that Rance might understand somewhere deeper.

i'll never be that me again

Rance didn’t miss the wince, or the move to hold a covered injury. The only thing that kept him from asking for details was that he didn’t want to hurt his chances of employment. There would be time to ask probing questions when he knew Sunjata’s limits a little better. Meanwhile, the fact that he could write fast and well hadn’t always been appreciated in the humbler villages back home, so it was good to hear it being given as much weight as the ability to swing a hammer or lift a hay bale. His smile widened a bit in silent agreement as Sunjata continued.

He nodded as the number of rooms was listed, automatically fitting the requested jobs into what he knew he could do. The question in the head tilt brought his thoughts up short, and his brows rose, head turning almost turning to give Sunjata a curious side-eye before he stopped himself mid turn. “That sounds like an excellent deal. Kinder than I expected, to be honest, seein’ as I’m as far from local as one can get.” He hummed and took another sip on his drink. “I can safely say I’ve never bartended before, but I’m no stranger to keeping an inventory. And I’d like to think I’m a quick student.” That brought the fading smile back as he swirled his drink lazily before finishing it off and setting the glass on the bar. “Good booze, too. You keep your own stills?”

SUNJATA

A silent agreement, he imagines, based off the slightly wider smile he’s granted. But he waits until Rance says something to make it easier, a more official sort of agreement granted. Luckily, with the whiskey and the ability to keep his wound covered for the most part with the hand, not moving quite so much anymore, he finds his patience easily there. And when the other man speaks, it does spark a quiet chuckle from Sunjata. As far from local as one can get? He was too, once upon a time. “I’ve been there before.” He agrees with a small hint of a smirk crossing his face.

The mention of never bartending before, Sunjata nods. “It’s pretty easy. Mostly they’ll come in with something to trade for a drink, and you just get them what they want.” It’s the most straight forward part of his job, really. But he lifts his own glass to his lips when Rance speaks again, mentioning the alcohol and he swallows – relishing the burn before setting the glass on the bar top as well, letting his steel return to the other attuned.

“A few naturals make certain ones for me in exchange for favors.” He offers easily, a slight shrug. Most of them were labor tasks, some were for protection of a sort, and others were for a bit more… Shadier reasons, but he did whatever he could to get what the bar needed to function. It was no Rathskeller, after all. Even with the wine spiders or without.

i'll never be that me again

Rance had been dancing around it, but Sunjata apparently got the hint and, from the sounds of it, was another victim of the portal snatching. Rance itched to ask him what it had been like for him, how he’d adapted and survived, how he’d come to own a tavern, of all things. The ‘later’ category of questions was definitely piling up. But the conversation was moving on to talk of duties and payment, something vastly more important the Rance’s own survival.

Rance’s expression was doubtful when Sunjata said that job was simple. He’d noticed that reading the signs had come naturally, at least, so he wasn’t afraid of reading the labels — or doing the inventory, of course — but he definitely had at least one question about how the trade system worked. A question that only became more urgent as his query about the source of the booze was brought up. “This is the first time I’ve lived or worked anywhere that has a barter system for a fuckin’ bar.” He shook his head slightly, obviously bemused. “My people never really had places of business like this and hu—” He stumbled over ‘humans’, cleared his throat, and continued. “The people who did only accepted nobility-issued coin. Though, Maea did tell me that’s not really a thing around here.”

SUNJATA

As Rance comments on the bartering system, Sunjata can’t help the smirk that crosses his face with the response. A chuckle leaving him that bothers the wound but he doesn’t seem to pay attention – ignoring it the best he can for the amusement he finds. Rance might feel a bit of it slip through the Attuned bond to him as well, while Sunjata leans against the bar and finally fishes back into that drawer to pull out those cigarettes he’d been trying to find earlier.

“You and me both.” He says, putting the cigarette into his mouth and lighting it with the lighter Libbs had made him. But he listens to Rance continue nonetheless, focusing on what kind of world he had been from before falling in here much like he had. The mention of nobility-issued coin has him nodding in understanding and yet still some hint of distaste that causes him to frown a small amount, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I’m used to coin, too. This seems a bit easier at least – if you’re capable and good with your hands you can pretty much get whatever you want.” A wry smile to that. “Got quite a few things when I first arrived by simply offering people to help pull in the harvest or fix a roof or two.” A shrug to that.

He focuses on Rance again with a bit more of an intense look, steel eyes bright as he drags from the cigarette and leans back a small amount. “This used to be a colleague’s house. When he died it sat empty, and after the last bar burned down I put this together. After that, well, business speaks for itself.” He offers, gesturing with his hand to the people that fill in random seats around them.

i'll never be that me again

Rance felt something odd and his brows twitched as his recognized it as not his, which was… definitely odd. He was going to have to get someone to explain what had happened to his magic at some point. Beyond the obvious alteration to the way he shifted, the way he’d been able to hear and sense the rest of the hunters in the forest was decidedly new. Was that what this was now?

He didn’t spend more than a second considering it, his focus on the man across the bar from him. He didn’t even blink at the cigarette, having been in far too many taverns and bars over the years. The corner of his mouth kicked up again at the agreement and he felt himself finally relaxing a bit. Considering what Rance had offered as his qualifications, he had to admit that so aspects of this world fit a little better with how he was raised. “Heh, I always thought that was a more honest way to do it.  No less arbitrary, but at least the decision of what’s fair is left up to the people makin’ the deal.”

The sharpening of Sunjata’s gaze and expression is unexpected and if Rance hadn’t already been giving the man his full attention, that would have done it. It doesn’t make him tense again, but it does make him wonder what kind of story lies behind that information. He loosely crossed his arms, gaze flicking around the room to follow Sunjata’s gesture, just as quickly returning to the tavern owner himself. “Sounds like the best outcome off a rush of bad luck.” He commiserated, just in case either incident had meant something more to Sunjata, before adding, “You did well by the opportunity, I’d say.” There’s nothing suspicious in his tone, only open curiosity and an invitation to continue talking. He cocked his head slightly to the side, the gesture an unconscious mirror of Sunjata’s. “How long ago was that?”

SUNJATA

Sunjata does manage a quiet chuckle to the other attuned with the idea of fairness. “Exactly.” He offers quietly in response, corner of his lip raising in a small smirk that fades when he drags from the cigarette and exhales the smoke through his nose while he focuses on Rance. “Always keep what you’re good at hidden until they make their deal, that way you’re not offering too much.” A friendly tip, accompanied with a wink toward the other man.

But then his gaze sharpens and he explains how the bar had come to be, and he offers an easy nod to Rance with the quiet uncorking of a bottle to add a bit more to his glass. He focuses on Rance once more when the other attuned’s attention returns to him as well. A half tilt of his head with a nod is given, that same kind of mischievous grin crossing his face. “I did.” A bit of preening feathers, if you will. He’d done well, all things considered.

The question of how long ago, however, has him sitting up a bit more fully, dragging from the cigarette in his hand and taking a deep sip of the glass before his fingers tap against the top of the bar. “Mmm well, I want to say he died last Leafchange. I can’t fully remember. But the old bar burned down at the end of Deepfrost, and I opened this up the beginning of Flowerbirth?” He muses, turning his steel gaze back to Rance with a small shrug.

i'll never be that me again

The advice and the wink widens Rance’s faint smirk into a brief, sharp grin. He nods his head to the side, acknowledging the other man’s point. “I’m a little out of practice when it comes to bargaining. I’ll just have to hope the people around here are too nice to take advantage,” he replies with an edge of sardonic humor, fully aware that he wasn’t likely to encounter much of that. ‘Fairness’ was, after all, a matter of perspective.

The conversation shifts to the VlamVloed and how Sunjata came to own it. It takes a second of mental backpedaling (for Rance and his player), but he fits Sunjata’s mentions of ‘fixing a roof or two’ with refitting his associate’s house as a tavern and comes to the conclusion that Sunjata likely has more than one reason to be pleased with how things turned out. The mischievous grin suits the man, as does the pride, and Rance appreciates the view as his attention stays on the timing of the tavern’s history. A recitation that has his expression going from sardonic to mildly confused. Still amused, but with raised eyebrows and his grin a little more crooked. “I’m only guessin’ that you’re talkin’ about seasons and not just months.” He turns his empty glass on on the bar top, fingers needing to keep active as he relaxes. “Either way, if you did even half of this on your own, it’s impressive.”