The Liquor Cabinet > Forum Roleplaying

We are our Avatars

<< < (2/15) > >>

Nayt:
Gauntlets, huh? Interesting. Emma wondered what those might be for. Wondered, too, if Jack even knew what they were for.

"Chickie? I'll take that," Emma said with a roll of her shoulders.

At least that sounded interested, and not like Jack was passing her off as some dumb kid hardly worth his time. Not that his time was going to get her very far where it concerned answers to some burning questions, but this guy was the first person she'd seen since the haze--since forever, maybe?--and keeping up impressions was going to be important.

Attempts at that, however, were dashed once Jack tossed a room key at her. It hit her square in the chest, and Emma quickly scrambled to grab it before it hit the floor, displaying all the grace of a tranquilized house cat after a particularly bad vet visit. Key in hand, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders again as if nothing at all had happened. The key had a large and gaudy "3" tag attached to it, and it was temporarily the most interesting thing in the world, at least until the pride recovered a little.

JetSet:
"Good, cause I don't think I had another nickname in mind." He said and laughed, watching her flounder to catch the key. While she was recovering from the toss, he walked out from the counter and stood next to her. "Since it doesn't seem like anything else is going on right now, how about a tour of the place? You're probably going to be stuck here for a while if my own experience is an indication." He said, looking to the lobby. Three doors lead off into the main building of the inn.

"Pick your poison. We have the hall of infinite bedrooms!" He pointed up the stairs. "The room of endless sustenance!" He announced, pointing to the door behind them, and then pointed to the final door, to their left. "Or the lounge." He said very calmly. This man was a goof for sure.

Nayt:
Emma pocketed the key. At least Jack being ridiculously silly let her move past the temporary bruise to her ego. The words infinite and endless had also grabbed her attention. That couldn't be right, could it? What had the inn looked like from the outside, again? Ugh, it was still locked in that haze. She'd have to go outside and look again, and for some reason, that felt like a really bad idea.

"The room of endless sustenance for a thousand, Alex." A reference to something before the haze.

But seriously, Emma was kind of hungry. Something of a snack would be greatly appreciated. Although, come to think of it . . .

"None of this is gonna cost me, is it?"

JetSet:
"Alex? I don't...eh." He shrugged, chalking it up to something he didn't understand. "Follow me little chickie, for I shall show you a place where the food never runs out, the drinks never run dry, and for some reason, battle axes are considered cutlery."

With the explanation out of the way, he pushed into the kitchen, which to someone like Emma, would be something out of a dream. Big enough to fit a full team of people to be working with room to spare, the kitchen had everything that anyone could have wanted. Ovens, stoves, grills, fridges taller than Jack, pantries lining the walls, pans and pots all over, sitting neatly all around the kitchen. Whisks, spoons, spatulas, and all sorts of other cooking instruments, including a rather heavy looking battle axe, rested in their place, looking perfectly natural.

"Chickie, with the clothing you have on, I don't think you have the gold to pay for a place fancy as this. Don't worry about it...And speaking of which, if you ever need something new to wear, I'm a weaver myself, so just ask and I'll see what I can do." He said and flashed her a smile, taking a step back and letting her explore the kitchen while he stood next to the doors leading to the lounge area.

Nayt:
Okay, this was bizarre. Cool as hell, but bizarre. This kitchen was huge, large enough that it should have cramped up against the entrance and stairs, overtaken the entire first floor of the building. Emma's first order of business was briefly stepping back into the entry hall, then returning to the kitchen, to conclude that yes, this room was bigger on the inside than the outside. That kind of anomaly couldn't have been possible, but it was here. Wherever here even was, where the Nowhere Inn could feasibly exist.

Satisfied that this building was going to defy all manner of physics, she made for the pantry, eying all manners of snacks. Not terribly hungry, but peckish. Mostly for chocolate, on which she snacked greedily. After the fourth or fifth chocolate laden cookie, she open the nearest fridge, rooting around for something to quench her thirst. There were trays in the fridge that she couldn't possibly reach. Hell, Jack probably couldn't even reach them. But close, amongst innumerable bottles of drinks she'd never heard of, she found cider. Ooo. The glass bottle fizzed once she wrenched the cap off (using her room key as a bottle opener), and going down her throat, it was cool, bubbly, and warm all at the same time.

Emma let out a contented sigh, shut the fridge, and turned back towards Jack again, glass bottle of cider in hand. It'd taken several moments for her to address him, time in which she'd been enamored with what she could find in this room, but she finally asked, "Is something the matter with my clothes?"

Truth be told, she hadn't really looked herself over all that much, not since the haze stopped and the Nowhere Inn began. A kind of low cut tank top and short shorts, huh? Emma wondered if she should've been embarrassed about it or not. She didn't feel embarrassed. After all, if Jack--or anyone, for that matter--was eyeballing her legs, hips, chest or anything like that (regardless of how unimpressive she must've been to anyone but the most desperate of souls), then at least their attention was drawn away from the five tally marks dug into the right side of her face. Upon remembering those scars, she took a moment to make sure her bangs still covered them well enough. She'd no idea how they'd gotten there, where they'd come from, only that they had to be concealed, and that her choice in clothing might've been a way to distract attention from them.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page

[*] Previous page