[F11-PP-PT] Two Flames

[Mari 1]

Floor 11…

Taft

The place Mari broke her creed. Her decision to never willingly step into a town with her orange cursor. Yet here she was again - on the outskirts. A half hour walk from the large, thriving city - and yet - not a soul was nearby. Rarely anyone walked this far out. Why would they when they could just fucking teleport? Mari didn’t really have that luxury, she only had the one crystal left and needed it for the upcoming boss fight.  With her current status, there was no real way to just wander into a city and buy another.

Friends would have spares, probably. Maybe. But it was not a risk she was planning on taking.

The woman was in her usual attire, a leather length of harness under her chest which glowed slightly with embers- as though the leather was only a top layer and beneath burned - her orange shirt, black shorts - fishnets - and a forever tattered length of black scarf that trailed on the dirt behind her. Mari was pacing. Finger tapping a folded elbow. Should she try to venture there again? No - last time went absolutely terribly. And it’d make her trek to the 9th floor to collect more sulphur for Atan completely pointless. Speaking of - Mari reeked of it. Sulfur, and coal. Burning.

Not that she cared. The woman was practically used to the scent by now. “Fuck it.” Mari muttered as she threw herself to the ground in a seated position by a tree, not too far off the dirt path. Close enough to watch people go by, but far enough to not be a nuisance - of course she still had that angry red cursor above her head which always invited trouble. She was practically a flame amidst a green forest at this point with her current attire. Not exactly subtle.

Mari needed a drink. So, she pulled out the small set of chartreuse bottles from her inventory and set them by her side. Opening up one of them and downing half the bottle right there and then.

The fuck should I do?

Edited 2 hours ago by Mari

[Lancaster 1]

The gentle rustling of grass immediately put the man on edge, unfurling his fingers and shoving the many rings on his fingers closer to his palms as he made a gesture like he was popping his knuckles. Back pressed to a large oak tree, he was under the understanding that he would have been left well enough alone out this far. Tapping at his chest as he'd look out toward the direction of the sound, the moment he hones in on it he notices the little floating icon of an orange player. At least it wasn't going to be that annoying, as normally they'd just flee to the town like little mice the moment he confronted him. This one wouldn't have the option. Moreover it was a dame, short and very bright against her backdrop. Mari. The man recalled in a mental phrase. From a number of stolen records, recounts and discussions from all manner of sightings. That hair and marker was damn near a finger print. One of the frontlines with the worlds most obtuse and messy wrap sheet.

From his pocket he pulls a jimmy, shoving it in between the left side of his lips. It wasn't a graceful thing, something slapped together without even the slightest aid of the system. But he'd snap his fingers and see the small flame started on them to it and cause it to glow red. He'd push his back to the trunk, sliding down and taking a seat. Pulling hard on that cigarette, he cups his hand across his lips and lets the ash fall.

“Fuck it.”

*thunk*

The woman sat one a few feet from him, not even realizing he was there yet it seemed. Lancaster wasn't enthused at the prospect of getting wrapped up in all the pile of fuckery on the upper floors. They had a habit of ruining his little sandbox, and shitting in his cereal if given the opportunity. But things could easily go just as tits up if she spotted him first and thought he meant to sneak up on her. Checking his cards, he weighed his options. Even if he could take her it wouldn't be easy and extremely messy.

*hhhhhaaaa*

A long exhale, as he'd wave his hand to put out the flame. "Don't mind sharing Amore? Little parched over here." The man spoke with a thick tinge of italian to the bottle she was carrying, not looking in her direction.

---

<<Assisting System Engaged>>
Level: 1
Paragon: 0
Tier: 1
True Tier: 1

Final EXP: +5%

---

Lancaster | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 1

Spoiler

 

Name: Lancaster
True Tier: 1
Level: 1
Paragon Level: 0
HP: 20/20
EN: 20/20

Stats:
Damage: 1

Equipped Gear:
Weapon/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Armor/Trinket: 
  - 
Shield/Armor/Trinket: 
  - 

Combat Mastery:
  - 

Combat Shift:
  - 

Familiar Skill:
  - 

Custom Skill:
  - 

Skills:

Extra Skills:

Inactive Extra Skills:

Addons:

Mods:

Inactive Mods:

Battle Ready Inventory:
  - Starter Healing Potions (Heals 50 HP) x3

Housing Buffs:

Guild Hall Buffs:

Scents of the Wild Totem:

Wedding Ring:

Crafting Profession:

Gathering Profession:

 

 

Edited 2 hours ago by Lancaster

[Mari 1]

Don't mind sharing Amore? Little parched over here."

Huh

Mari straightened her back at the thick accent.

Italian?


Mari blinked. Crap…she knew some Italian - she knew a lot of phrases in a lot of languages. Linguistics…Language…Science…the violin… all things she loved.  Instead of failing to introduce herself in Italian Mari pulled a second small bottle out of her casque, handing the man the entire bottle. “It’s frustratingly sweet.” Mari said. “I’d rather something like whiskey, but this was free.” Mari would never be one to knock a free gift.

She hadn’t realized the man was there, in all honesty. If she had known - she would have left well enough alone, found some other place to hole up and drink. She didn’t exactly feel like being super social right now. He reached out to grasp it and Mari couldn’t help but glance down at all the rings he wore. Eccentric?

Her gaze rose to meet his eyes. Crimson, beneath crimson locks of hair. She supposed he was going for a look, not that she could talk. Mari was practically a walking flame at this point, this man seemed to be much the same. With a sigh Mari turned her head away from him, her own gaze shifting back to the road.

Her head fell flat against the trunk of the tree with a light thunk. The two sat in silence as Mari took another swig from her bottle. Wincing at the overt sweetness. Wishing for something a little nicer. Mari felt like she was often finding herself in these situations. First with Arcanthus and Katoka - then Oscar, now this strange Italian man. 

Instead of introducing herself Mari simply lifted her bottle to the man in a toast, “Sopare” She had said it right, but it was clearly an Australian accent as opposed to his native Italian.

[Lancaster 1]

Reaching out and taking the bottle by the neck, he'd pull the cigarette out and down a mouthful. The taste immediately caused some bone in his body to jump to refusal. He'd cough almost dropping the chartreuse, quickly handing it back to her. "Ugh, no offense Angioletto, but is syrup." taking his hand he'd rub it on his tongue, finding the salt a fair counter balance to it. She clearly wasn't joking. The man rubs his hand on the tree at his back, running his tongue around in his mouth to dilute the taste. "Burned through the last of my whiskey about an hour ago, now I am filled with....regret. You smoke?" He perched the question aiming for an amicable break instead of one of contention.

Into his pocket he'd fish out another unfiltered stick of tobacco. Lancaster lights up another with a snap of his fingers causing one of the rings to light up bright, mainly to save the taste buds in his face from committing suicide after being subject to what was more sugar the booze. He'd hold the little box with one sticking out, toward her if she'd aim to take it.

[Mari 1]

 "Ugh, no offense Angioletto, but is syrup."

Mari snorted, then laughed. "Yeh. No shit. Hang on." She opened up her menu - where was it...Ah... Mari had originally been saving it for when, if ever Oikawa had returned...but...she began to doubt that would ever happen. Now, Mari was just waiting to her about his name being on the monument of life.  Whiskey. "The best way to describe this...ahhh...Sullivans Cove?" Mari inquired. It was a brand of Whiskey, back in the real world. Expensive. Very. Known for being incredibly smooth with hints of floral vanilla. Then ending with a hint of malt. Mari put down the Chartreuse, rather - she threw it back in her inventory.  The only thing it was good for...was getting drunk quickly. Mari stared at the bottle in her hands for a moment. Rolling it to and fro. It would have been nice to share this with others...that was her intent. This kind of thing was not one to hoard to yourself. Unless you were the selfish, self absorbed type. Mari twisted the seal, then uncorked the bottle. She took a long swig of it. Yup. Just as she remembered. 

The whiskey still had a slight floral hint - but it was far surpassed by the malty vanilla overtones. "Try this instead." Instead of passing it directly to him, Mari placed it carefully on the grass between them. That definitely hit the spot. Much better.

 "Burned through the last of my whiskey about an hour ago, now I am filled with....regret. You smoke?"

Burned through? Mari turned to him, brows furrowed quizzically. As in drank? He didn't seem inebriated. Maybe he hadn't taken the quest yet, and had simply drank it to enjoy. The man asked if Mari smoked and she shook her head, passing up on the offer of tobacco. "Nah. Not really. Used to when I was stressed." A lot of things stressed her out. "But now we can get drunk here, I'd much prefer a malty whiskey." She mused. Mari watched as he lit the cigarette with a snap of his fingers. Curious. 

"That's a neat trick." Mari mused with a nod of her head. It was clear he had a penchant for fire now. It should have been obvious, much like how Mari's was - but - she was doing her best to never assume anything about anyone these days.

[Lancaster 1]

Watching on his peripheral the moment she opened her inventory, gauging each and every motion. Ready to spring up and create chaos if she opened up that little friends log of hers. But instead she dug through a pile of random crap in a massive list denoting her inventory. This was why he stuck to pockets, which equated to quick slots that allowed him to find it. A flash of blue light and a bottle appears, a squared thing in a rich brownish gold. As she'd uncork it and offer it in the space, he'd lean down and pluck it up in a limp hand. The cigarette smoking as it hung from his lips, he'd pass the neck of it under his nose. "Vanilla, a bit of spice. Well played, Amore. alla nostra" He'd take a swig and it struck so much cleaner, that bite stung well down his gullet. He'd place it back and take another heavy dose of nicotine.

"That's a neat trick."

Perking his eyes toward her, Lancaster finds her interest rather rewarding. Wasn't too often anyone even had given him the opportunity for him to express it. "It is somewhat a simple one. See the rings bella donna?" He'd hold his hand toward her like the godfather, a limp hang. The string of gold bands show all manner of gemstones set in them. Sapphires, Rubies, Emeralds, all sorts. "Is cerberus etching, most use it like a grindstone for swords. Set it in a ring. Quick flame, with powerful results." Turning that hand and snapping his fingers they alight like a candle, the fire coming out of his index and thumb like a lighter "Combine with a little immunity to heat and presto." He would sound proud of it, as he'd allow it to burn. 

[Mari 1]

"-alla nostra"

As the man placed the bottle back into the nest of grass Mari grabbed it. Alla Nostra Huh?  An odd notion between two strangers, but none Mari would take nonetheless. She took another long drink from the bottle and let the liquid sit in her mouth, washing away the final pungent fruity nectar of the chartreuse. Mari swallowed, and it burned as it fell down her throat and settled in her stomach. Mari inhaled slowly and closed her eyes. Enjoying the moment. The sun was warm, the air smelt loamy, like fresh earth. Even if it was tinged with hints of sulfur and burnt charcoal from her own form. "Mari." She finally said. Thinking it best to at least give him a name to a face. 

"See the rings bella donna?"

"Mmm?" Mari leaned forward and to the side, shifting her body so she was facing him completely now, still leaning against the same tree. At first, Mari thought the rings an eccentric form of fashion. A little obtuse for her liking, but who was she to judge? She trudged around wearing a tattered scarf. "Oh...Oh..." Mari said as her eyes lit up at his explanation. "That's smart." She pointed to her own harness across her chest - an old one that had the very same once upon a time. "I had used something similar on my clothes. Kept me warm - burned attackers...but that..." She paused, taking another swig of whiskey. "That's smart." She complimented him again. It wasn't often she saw people finding unique uses for their items. She could count them on her hand. Freyd. Raidou. Atan.  Not many...

Her eyes were focused on the flame as it stayed alight - dancing silently yet dangerously upon his fingertips. The woman had a temptation to reach out to that flame, but held fast. He was a stranger, there was no use in getting grabby over someone she just met, just because she was interested in his parlor tricks. Dangerous parlor tricks.

"Just don't let that drop into the Whiskey, k?" Mari commented. "That shit was hard for me to get."

 

[Lancaster 1]

Locking a gaze with the woman in a way that most didn't even get the chance to, it was a bit of an odd circumstance for him. It had been quite some time since he'd even nursed such a conversation for longer then a minute or two, and it was usually a lot more heated. Dangerously so. "It would Sound like you're smart yourself dolcezza. Most discard what they find, very.... short sighted...brava" A quick flick of his wrist sees the flame snuffed out. A ginger hand clutches that bottle and sees it tilted and placed back down. Wasn't often that he could share his passions with someone who could actually get it, truly.

He'd take another drag and offer a spray of smoke up into the air off his right as given he wasn't trying to start a battle with a lack of manners. "Those eyes of yours are alluring. Dangerous." The comment off the cuff, almost spoken as a fact that was loaded with a lot more meaning that it would let on. "Lancaster, is a pleasure." pressing his hand across the lower half of his face, he'd inhale and finish it off. His social batteries were always working at half mass, so the man was surprised that he'd even kept going this long. "Where you find it?" offering a point to the bottle as he'd pop in another one, given he had about zero fucks given he could smoke like a sailor in here. A single notification draws his attention, causing him to turn and offer a wave of his hand to dismiss it. "Fucking guards again, worthless coglione. seccante"