Worth a Shot

Players

- Deidra

- Hannah

- Jaksor

Halyard Village: Main Street

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Halyard Village ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is the main street of Halyard Village. However, for being the main street, its not terribly impressive.

Like most of the rest of the village, the homes and buildings that line this street are sound, at best. The

purpose of the architecture is obviously efficiency, not elegance. The buildings are short and squat, none

any higher than two levels, and a good few windows are covered in a fine grit; a combination of salt, sand,

and dirt. The foremost profession of the village becomes apparent with a simple glance around, fishing nets

and other such paraphernalia littering the area out front of many of the buildings. So far as the living

component of the street, a few vendors are usually out and about, attempting to sell their products, among

them fish and other such foodstuffs, but without much success. It is, after all, a small village.

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The prime market hours are winding down as the afternoon deepens. Thanks to a bit of a brisk wind off the ocean, which has subdued the heat for most of the day, it's actually been relatively busy, and Deidra is just about sold out of the various small metal trinkets and wares occupying her booth. Mostly it's just a few of the larger items that she hasn't been able to move yet, and which she's now packing away into a bag, using scraps of cloth to wrap the more delicate of them. She's humming as she works, letting a few words slip through. "... with you.. I would like to sail.. ocean blue.. Baaarges, have you treasure .. mm mm? Do you fight .. hmm pirates.. brave and bold?"

What is Hannah actually doing in public? It's a shock! Oh, wait. No, it's not. She's just about doing her shopping for the tavern kitchen. She's got a ledger and a bit of charcoal, as she goes from one vendor to the other, arranging for deliveries and haggling the price where necessary. Eventually she seems satisfied with her work for the day, and having spied Deidra in between her work, she meanders over that way, ledger tucked under her arm. She smiles, "Hi, Dei. Good day?"

Deidra hefts her bag up onto the now almost bare surface of the booth, wedging one if the cloth-wrapped items into it. A few more, all wrapped, are set just to the side to wait their turn. ".. out of my window, looking.. at the nighhheeeyyy, Hannah." She turns her head to the side for a moment to greet the other doe with a smile. Packing paused, she responds to the query by patting one of the outer pockets of the bag, making a low jangle of coins. "Good day," she affirms, and shoves another wrapped piece of metal something-or-other into the bag. "Good day, good /week/. Haven't made this much at market in months, but maybe things are picking up 'cause of autumn coming. Hell if I know, I'm not asking questions."

Singing, is it? Hannah sets her ledger upon Deidra's table and leeeeans. "It must have been, like. A /fantastic/ week. I don't think I've ever heard you sing." She looks suspicious.

"That's probably 'cause... you haven't?" Shove, jostle, rearrange, and she gets the last of her goods into the bag, then hefts it over her shoulder and gives a thorough glance around the area of her booth to be sure she isn't forgetting anything. Then she looks back to Hannah, beginning to suggest, "Grab a pin-- what?" She interrupts herself at the squinty-eyed expression on Hannah's face. Her ears lay back, her own expression becoming slightly guarded. "That wasn't singing, that was humming. With words. There's a difference."

"That. Was singing." Hannah narrows her eyes back, though they're more squinty with amusement than anything. She pokes at Dei's wares. "It can't be money. You're not really that focused on that sort of thing. What're you so pleased about?"

"Was. Not." Grr. "And, anyway," Deidra mutters, though there's a little smile in place to counter the faux-grumpy tone, "even if it was. I can sing if I want to. Maybe I've just... picked up a new hobby. Opera, obviously."

"You're /full/ of it, " Hannah crows when she sees the smile. She leans back, pointing a finger at the doe. "You... you're. You're /up/ to something." She leans back in, paws on the table. "What're you up to?"

Deidra's shifty eyes do nothing to lend her credibility. She looks off down the street in the opposite direction from Hannah, finding the other vendors packing up just so interesting - then back to Hannah, but really more like something past her shoulder. "I. I am.. definitely not up to something." Somehow she's ended up grinning despite her best efforts. "... at the moment."

"I will tell all my bouncer folk to boot you out on your arse if you don't tell me what you're up to, /right/ now." Hannah crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her foot on the ground.

As the evening deepens slowly into dusk, the rosy beams of the sinking sun paint bright red and dark purple hues across the sky, pinking the clouds. Halyard is bathed in the warm golden glow, long shadows cast by the stalls and buildings and figures, disproportionate and disfigured. A particular, peculiar shadow casts itself over the pair and stall, the harbinger of a tall, lean polecat with a hook where his left paw should be. "G'day, ladies," he greets in a gravel-tinged baritone, his vocal cords made rough by seasons of misuse and abuse. It's hard not to be menacing, but he makes an effort, cracking a toothy grin. "'ow does this evenin' find ye?"

"I don't think that's applicable, given.." Deidra makes a gesture to indicate their location, which just so happens to not be the tavern. "But. Since it means so much to you," she allows, with a hint of irony, "I /might/ have, um. Taught someone.. Blackjack?" If she intends to elaborate, it's cut short by the greeting from Jaksor, and the white doe shifts her attention to him. Her hand drops to rest atop the bag where it sits against her hip, and she replies with a short nod, her grin retreating and leaving a politely neutral expression. "Hello."

"Blackj-" Hannah starts to question, but then she stops. She glances around behind her, which is where Jaksor is. And then she looks up, as well. Huh. Her eyebrows slowly raise. Huh. "... now /he/ would make a fantastic bouncer. Dei - fess up! Or I sic him on you." And she thumbs a paw towards the polecat with a grin.

There's a slight pulling twitch at the corner of Jaksor's mouth as his appearance leeches the light from Deidra's eyes and sends her immediately on the defensive. You never quite get over having that effect on complete strangers, justifiable or not. Hannah's response makes it a little easier for him to hold the uncharacteristically friendly front, and the grin persists. Furthermore, the bouncer comment causes him to make the leap to the tavern; either an employee or the employer, which stretches that grin just a little further. "Ye heard th' lady," he jests amiably, bringing the hook up into full view. "Spill th' beans an' no one gets 'urt." Best to play along, see where things go.

Deidra shoots a look back at Hannah, one ear making a small twitch. "You need to stop.. collecting bouncers. Especially creepy ones," she adds, a little lower, while offering the hob a vague smile. "I just packed up for the day, but, is there something you need?" And back to Hannah, "I just told you, didn't I? Maybe you can convince me to elaborate over a pint."

Hannah's grin grows and she shoots Deidra a retaliatory look, eyes rolling. "The /creepy/ ones are the best. I mean, I could hire you... You'd do a pretty good job glaring everyone away," the doe muses to herself. Yeah. She's mostly talking to herself at this point, actually having wandered off a step or two to let Jaksor conclude whatever business with Deidra she assumes he is at. Oh, yeah! "You can have /one sip/ per answer."

Round ears prick forward, and just how much of her comments are heard is anyone's guess, but the polecat keeps up his friendly demeanor regardless, giving Hannah a sly wink. "Sounds like she's tryin' t' get ye ov'r a barrel t' me, boss," Jaksor warns. He turns towards the stall, laying his arm across the top to lean into it, hook trailing idly on the wood. "I been tryin' t' find an ol' pal'a mine," he begins, voice studiously regulated to broadcast to Hannah, his real audience; "An' I was wonderin' if y' migh' 'ave an idea where t' start. Toad by th' name'a Dillinger. We were in business togeth'r a few seasons back." The brazen tip traces idle designs lightly on the surface of the stall-top. "Be much obliged if'n y' could steer me in th' righ' direction."

"How about... one /shot/ per answer?" Deidra haggles. Shifting the broad strap of the bag a little forward in her shoulder to adjust the balance of the weight, she considers Jaksor with a thoughtful pursing of the lips, then shakes her head. "I don't even remember the last time I've seen.. anyone with an amphibious leaning. Otters discluded, anyway."

And just like that, her grin fades and all mirth is gone from Hannah. Just call him Jaksor, killjoy! The doe's ears flick back slightly and she turns to glances at the polecat while his attention is focused on Dei, giving a new, more appraising look. It's quick, though, and gone. "What kind of business?" she queries. Casual-like.

"Thank ye kindly, miss," Jaksor replies politely to Deidra, nodding his acceptance of her ignorance. He hadn't really expected an answer, so it's hardly a blow to the cause. As Hannah's query begins to execute, the hob's face takes on a similar serious aspect, mirroring the doe's. "About exactly what y'd expect, I reckon," he answers, turning to face her but keeping his weight against the stall, a casual lean. "Mercenary work, back east, f'r th' most part." The hook comes up off the stall-top while his elbow remains, gyrating slowly in the wan light. "Don't come by toys like 'ese doin' farmwork, aft'r all."

Hannah keeps her expression disinterested, rubbing absently at her forearm while Jaksor replies. After a bit she nods. "Ah. Well, I'm sorry t'say we don't have many toads 'round about these parts. Stick out like a sore thumb, they do. Good luck findin' your friend." Aaaaaand cue the smile. "Well, I ought t'be getting back. You know how it is. You coming, Dei?"

Jaksor grits his teeth as Hannah makes to leave. "Worth a shot," he mutters, turning to go and slipping off into the dusk. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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