Seat and Royalty
Log Info
- Title: Seat and Royalty
- Place: TarReCe
- Summary: In which Harkashan speaks of life changes, while serving as both seat and being treated like royalty.
TarRaCe - unspecified time around Noon. Also known as the noon.
The lunch craze was starting to wind down, though the crowd was smaller today - no extragavant fights happening in Coliseum, as most of the combatants were taking a well-deserved rest to post-celebrate, or to lick their respective wounds.
It also gave a breather for a ruddy sith-makar to do some of his other tasks - such as carrying a large bundle of towels from the Bathhouse, stacked over his shoulder. Steam flowed around his scales, as he walked with his black loincloth-slash-waiter's apron, picking few occasional empty plates as he passed. One of the perks working in the TarRaCe - the hot water was always near.
"Piling these near the crate," Aelwyn rumbles at the barkeep, leaning momentarily against the countertop. "Need a fresh set of glasses, Irony?"
The pool-shark wobbles out of the baths area, wrapped up in a white housecoat. She stretches at length in the doorway, yawning noisily. A few joints pop here and there, causing her to wince. Irshya makes her way to the bar, wet footprints following behind her. "Cafe, hot, black.", she mumbles to the barkeep.
She rests her chin in her hand, yawning once more. "Aelwyn. Good morning."
Aelwyn has a brief chat with the barkeep, before he sees Irshya making her way out of the baths. "Good this one did not proceed to empty that pool yet." He says with a tilt of his head and a low rumble in his chest. Seeing one of the others touch his side and urge him towards the back, he bows his head and makes his way there as well.
Reappearing minute later with a fresh towel and a hot pan of coffee. "How were the waters, Sharkie?" He asks, as he moves to wipe down the moisture off his own scales. His white shirt laid nearby; but the ruddy sith-makar was never in too much of a hurry to get strangled by the city's prudness. Or the TarRaCe's. "Any unsuspecting patrons falling into her waters again?" He flicks his tongue out.
With the lunch crazy dying down, this place is easier for people like Harkashan. Though the Sith-makar are used to busy communities and moving amongst other bodies, there's still something about being stuck in a place like this that ends up being different from roaming the jungles.
"Good afternoon." The Sith-Makar rumbles at the twosome as he approaches the bar area and settles on one of the stools. They're much easier seating than most of the chairs in places such as these.
"A water for me, please." He rumbles to the barkeep. Then, turning towards Irshya, he offers to get her up on a stool if she needs the assist.
Irshya snorts. "You would get bit.", she says with a toothy grin. "Not that you would really notice." The coffee is held in her hands, the warmth of the mug making her sigh.
"The waters were fine, but the pool will need to be emptied later and cleaned. I'll see to it. And no, no surprise bodies to hide this time around."
The mug is sipped at. "Mmmh. I see why this drink is appreciated."
She smiles again as Harkashan makes an appearance, and since he asked, she happily ends up in his lap, balancing on his leg. "Peace on your nest, Harkashan. How have you been? Looking for something to eat?"
Aelwyn flops the towel over his shoulder, leaning away from the counter. "Tch, with her tiny teeth?" The sith-makar 'grins' at her. Though her teeth probably could crush through his bone. "This one feels there would be no feeling." And he probably is going to get his feet bitten into for that. Once alive, once living dangerously.
The Dragoon's eyes naturally gravitate towards Harkashan as the definitely-not-lava-golem makes his way across the tavern; and as he watches him near, he bows his head. "Lava." He slides his hand down onto his hip. "Peace of nest. One comes in search of water? Should Sharkie keep a better stock?" His tail flits towards the knee the mentioned Gobbo was occupying.
Harkashan had of course offered to lift, with the intent of putting the shark-gobbo into her own seat. But at the scrambling, she ends up in his.
"Peace on your nest, miss Irshya." The man answers her with a long and deep growly voice. "I've been busy with matters at Mictlan as of late. I only just returned to town recently again." He explains in regards to how he's been - which seems to be defined by where he has been more-so than anything.
"Just a water will do. I've eaten recently."
He then bows his head respectfully at the runty Sith-makar; "Greetings, Aelwyn. Peace upon your nest. And indeed I do."
The Gobbo grins back at Aelwyn, her array of shark-like teeth on display. "The red one should guard his ankles better.", she says with a cheeky wink. Water is easily had, complete with ice cubes floating about in the glass. A server slides said glass before Harkashan, before moving on to deliver drinks to a table upstairs.
"How fairs Mictlan? Rebuilding after the disturbance?", the pool-shark wonders of Harkashan.
"Lava thirsts; yet not hunger." Aelwyn tilts his head the other way, clicking his teeth. "A weight to carry, it sounds as if."
Straightening to a more stand, he grabs his shirt off the counter and walks around Harkashan. He waits for a while to let the larger sith-makar answer the Gobbo's question - before he slowly reaches up and attempts to squeeze his sharp thumb claws - just so - between and against the neck and shoulder muscles to spur one's body to give in to the pressure point massage. Or at least spur to action - it tended to work pretty well on softskins. Less certain on towering, thickly scaled, elder makari.
"The rebuilding appears to be complete now." Harkashan answers her, "Thank you for asking." While leaning back a bit so he can at least turn his head and /attempt/ to make a single eye's contact with the small Goblin shark thing.
"Though I fear I have not yet met your former traveling companions, I do believe." He adds.
He then takes the glass of icecubes and water, and draws it back, enjoying the cool refreshing taste of just water.
His head then shifts and his posture rises as Aelwyn lays his claws to his neck and shoulders, and lets out a deeper growl. He seems to appreciate it, even if his hide is fairly stiff, and has some really rock-hard places that refuse to ply.
"Well, there is plenty of water to slake one's thirst.", Irshya says brightly. "And food for when one does hunger." She eyes Aelwyn then, curious as to his attempted... massage?
She nods to the larger of the Sith, "They may have travelled farther afield than you have as yet. None to worry, I do appreciate that you are looking out for them. You have my thanks and gratitude."
Harkashan's louder growl has her raising an eyebrow. "There are those who offer massage, here, Harkashan. Such as Aelwyn. There are tables in the baths for such."
Aelwyn was not one who was not afraid of trying. So he keeps digging in with his fingers, grunting as he tries to get through that thick hide. Granted, he was expecting a bit of a different reaction. "Oh, so this one is now allowed to use the tables?" He asks with a toothy grin around Harkashan. "Now what could have brought this change of heart on?" His tail whips behind.
The lava-scaled makari is now treated to a firm pair of hits from the sides of his hands, well measured as he aims for those tight spots. "See, this one had the notion the shaman borne of Lava was carrying a weight from Mictlan - and the weight pins down here." He points momentarily - until his thumbs swell up and grind into that spot. "Who are these travelers Sharkie is in search of?"
"I am aware." Harkashan answers the Gobbo; "Though I believe that is a comment to broach to Aelwyn, rather than myself. I have not paid for this service." He points out to the small shark-like creature.
He then leans down a bit as the runty one begins to work deeper into his scales. The earlier growl seemed to be pleasant enough, and he does put his feet to the ground so he can push back against the other Sith-makar so he can dig deeper. Smaller rumbles leaving him.
It is difficult to remove the knots from this old Sith-makar, it seems. It requires a significant bit of strength to get those powerful and firm scales to move beneath his cloth covering him. Going further down than his neck will be difficult, what with him usually wearing at least some form of armor. No doubt, much to the dismay of the ruddy one.
Still, after a few hits, and with his thumbs pressing in deeper, there is some measure of progress. Harkashan leaning back in appreciation.
He'll let the sharkie handle the matter of traveling companions for now, as he lifts his glass and takes another drink. Right now being treated both as 'a stool' and as 'royalty' at the same time.
The Goblin raises an eyebrow at Aelwyn, "Are you saying you do not wish to do so?" She slowly crosses her arms, a sly grin on her face. "Shall I do it instead?" She lets out a low breath at the mention of travellers. "The other proprietors of the TarRaCe. Harkashan has taken on the task of wishing them well, from me, should he run into them on the road. Sabina, and Ygraine. I miss them terribly when they're away, and I shall be so very sad the day they never return."
Chuckling, she hops down from the larger Sith's lap. "You may have the service at no cost, yes? I shall go an prepare things for you. Aelwyn can dig his thumbs in and rid you of some stiffness." Irshya quickly runs off, through the door to the baths.
Aelwyn hoists up his knee - and lays it neatly against the middle of Harkashan's back as he begins to push against him. "One is supposed to relax, not work hard." The ruddy sith-makar rumbles in amusement, as he uses his new found leverage to really use his arms. It seemed he has experience with even the hardheaded clientele. "Besides, this is what is known as 'bartering' or 'sweetening the deal', when it comes to matters of debt and payment."
Irshya's comments makes the runtiest sith-makar click his teeth in a huff. "Tch, this one suspects Sharkie would simply bite chunks out of him - at the very least, there will be some left after this one is done." He replies to the gobbo before she leaves, his tail moving to whip in the air as a departing wave.
"Hmmh," Aelwyn lets out with a rumbling hum, "Were the work in Mictlan so wearisome?" He asks, "For it seemed to me there is a harder knot here to unwound."
The knee finds Harkashan's armor, but gives him a chance to push against him. Of course, this means Harkashan has to dig in his feet so he doesn't get pushed off of the stool he's sitting on.
As the pressure rises, he pushes back; "What deal are we sweetening?" The crimson one seeks to know, finishing his drink.
As the topic drifts to Mictlan, he notes; "Mictlan was a lot of work. But I also travel a lot." The Sith-makar notes. "But there are various weights upon my shoulder. Many of which are not worth discussing here right now."
Aelwyn leans further forward; displaying surprising amount of agility and strength as he tiptoes on his claws, pushing harder against the other makari. All to grab all that large muscle and claw it up like reluctant clay. "Tch, one weight tends to roll off another." Case in point, he slaps Harkashan's shoulders again. "Yet one needs to start from somewhere." The shorter sith's tail light taps against its larger counterpart.
To the question, Aelwyn lowers his chest down and momentarily pauses, leaning against the other's neck with his forearms. "Work. This one presumed there were something a Dragoon's hands could help a Shaman with." A moment of pause. "... beyond trying to beat one's body to yield its stubborness." A rumbling sound, that seems to roll off his chest.
The male lowes his shoulders when Aelwyn pauses, and lets him lean on his neck with those forearms of his. Listening to him while rumbling a heavy tone.
One weight tends to roll off another. Perhaps unintended, but this makes Harkashan think of a recent conversation he had. Indeed, one weight does tend to roll onto another.
His tail taps back against Aelwyn's, before he turns his head and notes; "There is always a need for cooks amongst the community, the gathering of materials for rituals, the travel between Mictlan and the communities in Am'shere to keep both sides informed of happenings... there is much to do. What kind of work would you /like/ to do though, Aelwyn? It sounds like you are looking for more than just massaging people. Is the call of the Warriors making your heart ache with need?"
Aelwyn tilts his head towards the side as he looks at Harkashan. The variety of red ribbons - some fresh, many of them old weathered - moving along with his horns. He reaches out and taps the other male on the brow. "While this one obviously understands, this one does not belong to what Lava calls 'Warriors'." He corrects, "Not the ones from Am'shere."
A moment later, he leans in flatten his body against the armor plates, and rumbles besides the other male's ear. "Besides, it is a dangerous game to speak of needs of others."
Teeth exposed, the smaller sith-makar sways the tail behind him; rolling his shoulders back. "Yet there is truth to those words. This one is searching for something, if not for his blade, then for his feet and body to do. A shaman, old as you, perhaps knows ways to put this one's skills to use that a tavern cannot?"
"You may not belong to the Warriors of Am'shere, but I have seen you battle. You are a Warrior in my eyes. Are you of a different caste?" He inquires, as he is corrected.
He lets Aelwyn lay against him, his tail sliding around Aelwyn's waist to let him know he is welcome.
"But I am a Speaker and Shaman both - so I oft speak of needs of others. Dangerous game has long been something I've acquainted myself with." He points out.
He then begins to shift, releasing his tail, and begins to turn around to see Aelwyn.
"If you seek body and feet to perform work, come to Mictlan and secure the route between it and the Portal to Am'shere." He tells him.
A pause, before he raises his hand. "My shoulders feel a bit better. Perhaps next time I come here, I bear less armor, so you can actually reach those spots better. But consider my offer. For now, I should move on."
Aelwyn rumbles in amusement, "Yes. This one is a Dragoon." Or will be - but works like that are not spoken aloud. Leaning further forward as a tail wraps about him, he lets himself 'lax against the larger makari. "Hmmh." He only responds to the other's mention of needs and danger; instead sliding down when Harkashan starts to move.
"Secure the route?" Aelwyn asks, curiously, but he then bows his head. "Perhaps one day this one needs to indeed, see those jungles of Am'shere." Walking over the counter, he swipes the empty drinking glass and starts to walk forward - though he pauses, lightly swatting at Harkashan's ankles. "The next time; the Bathhouse has plenty of space for the Speaker to speak of his own needs for a change." As he walks away he bows his head. "Peace of their nest," And with the same motion, he walks back up, walking into the kitchen with that rolling gait of his.