Hana and Bobby | Yorkland, Day 1
Nov. 27th, 2018 08:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainBobby decides to celebrate coming into port by watching a pit fight, and ends up having a drink with the victor. Things go on from there!
Bobby wove his way through the crowded streets, his lute slung over his shoulder, ignoring the way it felt as if the oh-so-solid land beneath his feet felt as if it were moving. It would settle down soon enough, and a few pints at the pub would help tremendously. All the more so if he didn't have to pay for them, which was reason enough to bring his lute.
It was a shame, though, that the Captain had taken off as soon as they'd tied off at the dock. Not a surprise, all things considered, but still. A shame. He would've rather had someone to drink with...
The shouts of a crowd to his left caught his attention, and he grinned. Ah, the fighting pit. He glanced towards the pub, then inwardly shrugged. He could swing by the pit first, make a wager or two. That tiny barbarian woman who'd been there the last time he'd been in port had been amazing. With any luck, he could make a few coppers before he even got to the pub. In any case, he had a better chance of making them that way than he did by playing.
“Place your bets! Place your bets!” the bookie shouted. He was a thin man with a comb-over that was dressed in a sharp-looking suit that looked worn at the edges upon closer inspection. “Diva versus Carl the Crusher! A fight like you’ve never seen before! Place your bets!”
Diva stood in the pit, stretching and making a show of looking threatening. A large, excited crowd was gathering, and the energy gathering in the air was electric. This was going to be a good match. She grinned across at her competitor—a large man nearly twice Diva’s height and weight with slicked back hair and a braided beard—who sneering snarled in reply.
Yeah, this was going to be awesome.
Bobby sidled his way through the crowd to the bookie and managed to place a few silvers on Diva just as the fight began, then looked around, trying to figure out the best available place from which to watch the match. After a few moments, he grinned and headed out of the crowd towards a building that faced the pit - and which, more importantly, had a flat roof. Not particularly eager to draw attention, he walked around to the back - and then clasped his hand around the ice amulet he'd taken off a sailor a year or two earlier. Usually he used it to stall enemy ships, but if he concentrated...
A tower of ice rose up under his feet, carrying him to the empty rooftop. Grinning, he headed towards the front edge of the building. He had the best seat in the house.
Diva and the Crusher had been on one another the moment the fight started. The Crusher swung a meaty fist at Diva that she ducked to avoid before leaping to bring the heel of her palm to his jaw. There was a resounding crack of bones or teeth breaking as it connected. He let out a howl of rage, blood flecking across Diva’s face. She just grinned.
The fight went on for not even ten minutes, the two exchanging blows as the crowd gasped, cheered, and heckled around them. When it was over, both Diva and Carl the Crusher were bruised, bleeding, and broken, but only Diva still remained on her feet.
"YES!" Bobby cheered along with much of the crowd; those who'd either had bets on Diva or who were just happy to see the local champion beat her opponent. He leaned over the edge of the roof and threw a fist up into the air, trying to catch Diva's eye. He didn't have much hope of accomplishing it, though, considering that he was reasonably sure at least half the people there, male and female, were trying to do the exact same thing.
As Diva turned to wave to the crowd, she spotted someone waving wildly from a rooftop. She gave him a wink and blew him a kiss (which another enthusiastic fan mimed catching), then did a running wall-climb out of the fighting pit. After collecting her winnings, she weaved her way through the crowd, greeting people or thanking them for congratulating her on her victory as she went.
Eventually, finally, Diva found herself past the crowd, many of whom were already clamoring to bet on the next fight. In the mood for a drink, she headed for her favorite tavern as she wiped the blood from her face.
With a silly grin on his face, Bobby made his way down from the rooftop by more ordinary means, and headed off in search of the drink he'd originally been seeking. Diva. Diva had thrown him a kiss. Him. Utterly bemused by this occurrence (which he thought might actually be the highlight of his life, thus far), Bobby entered the tavern and sauntered off to the bar, not even looking around at his surroundings.
A half a second later, the door slammed open and Diva stood on the threshold. She was grinning, and she lifted both arms over her head as she crowed, “A round of drinks on me!” A cheer went up from the gathered patrons.
Bobby spun on his heels, an astonished expression on his face, and grinned as he grabbed a tankard from the counter. "And a toast to Diva, the greatest - and prettiest - fighter the Pit has ever seen!" he called out before anyone else could. And took a drink - or tried. As it turned out, the tankard was empty, but hey. Hopefully no one would notice that part.
Diva’s grin at the cheer grew when she realized where it was coming from. She sauntered over, and sat herself down on the bar stool beside his. “Well, if it isn’t rooftop guy.” Giving him a grin, she scooped up the tankard of ale the bartender put down in front of her. “Enjoy the show?”
Fighting an urge to look behind him to see if Hana might be talking to someone else, Bobby grinned back and tried to look casual, as if talking to hot pit fighters was something he did on a daily basis. "Definitely," he assured her. "I had the best view in the house."
“How’d it look from up there? I might have to steal that trick myself the next time I watch a match.” Diva then took of swig of ale and offered out a hand to shake. “I guess I don’t need any introduction. What’s your name, roof guy?”
Oh, right! Bobby took her hand, debated whether or not he could pull off one of Kurt's classy hand kissing moves, decided he'd just look ridiculous, and shook it instead. "Bobby. Bobby Drake. I'm a sailor on The Aurora." He gestured towards the lute slung over his back and grinned a little. "And a wannabe bard, but trust me, there's more wannabe there than bardness. And yeah. You looked great from up on the roof." His grin turned mischievous and he shrugged. "Not as good as you look from here? But still really good.”
Alright, so it was cheesy, but it was gutsy too and Diva liked guts. …That sounded wrong. “What can I say? I wear the blood of my enemies really well,” she joked. “Brings out the color of my eyes. I—” She stopped as a large half-orc woman clapped her on the shoulder with a grunt of ‘good fight’. “Thanks, Rockgut!” The woman grunted again in reply, then grabbed a drink from the barkeep and ambled off.
“Sorry about that,” Diva said to Bobby. “So, you play the lute, huh?”
"So I maintain. Opinions vary," Bobby joked. He pulled the lute from his back and set to tuning it. "What would you like to hear?"
Diva propped her chin on her hand and, grinning at Bobby, gestured for him to go ahead. “Surprise me, bard boy.”
Surprise her. Bobby grinned, plucked a chord, and began strumming the tune to a popular song extolling the virtues of a lovely lady - but instead of following the usual verses, did some improvisation and made the lady in question the victor of the pit fights. The lyrics weren't especially inspired, he had to admit, but they weren't half bad, either. He'd have to do some tweaking of them later.
When Diva realized the song wasn’t going as expected and it was, actually, about her, she let out a laugh. He wasn’t the best singer she’d heard, but he was good and the improvised lyrics were amazingly done and hilarious to boot. She clapped when he was finished and dug some gold pieces out of her pocket to toss onto the table.
Bobby blushed and waved aside both the money and her applause. "Thank you, thank you - but honestly, it was nothing. I was inspired." He grinned at her and rested his elbow on the bar. "So, how long have you been battling in the pits? I saw you there last time we docked here, but I don't remember you before that."
Diva slid some of the gold to Earl, the barkeep, ordering them both another round, and then pocketed the rest for later. “I’m not from here originally,” she explained. “I traveled a little, training and fighting in different pits, then I got here and—” she shrugged, “decided to stick around for a while.”
“What’s being a sailor like?” Diva asked.
"Pretty cool, actually." Bobby leaned back on the bar and grinned. "Travel, excitement, and while the pay varies a lot? It's usually pretty good."
“What kind of ship do you sail with? Merchant? Fishing?” Diva finished off her ale just as Earl set down a new mug for both herself and Bobby. He took her empty away, then nodded at Bobby behind Bobby’s back and shot her a knowing wink before walking away.
"Mmm...well, you could kind of call the Aurora a merchant ship," Bobby mused, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I mean, we definitely take on cargo. Just, y'know, not normally in port."
Smirking, Diva arched an eyebrow. “And let me guess, you get this cargo by selflessly relieving it from other ships.”
"It's a tough job," Bobby confirmed as he tried hard not to grin, without complete success. "But somebody has to do it. Might as well be us."
Diva’s laugh almost had her choking on a mouthful of ale. “How noble of you,” she joked. “And how did you end up in that line of charitable work?”
"Blatant favoritism," he admitted with a grin. "The captain's a friend of mine. I didn't even have to apply for the job."
That made Diva wonder what the pirate interview process would even be like ‘cause the pit fighter one was definitely unique. “I’m sure you were the right man for it,” she told him.
"I dunno," Bobby teased. "I mean, I look great in a bandana, and I have about the same IQ as a parrot? But, I'm a chicken about getting my ear pierced, and I'm pretty sure I can't rock the leather pants." He grinned and picked up his ale. "Now you, on the other hand..." He waggled his eyebrows.
Man, this flirt! But, Diva wasn’t gonna argue it; she totally could rock leather pants. “Barbarians are more of a less is more kind of people,” she replied with a gesture to her furs and leathers which covered enough, but not nearly as much as traditional armor did. “So, when you say you look great in a bandana, do you mean just a bandana?”
Bobby felt his face warm, but managed to keep a cocky grin intact. "Want to find out?"
Diva smirked. “I’m considering it.”
"Anything I can do to tip that answering towards a yes?" Bobby asked, his eyebrows rising as he smirked back. After all, it didn't hurt to ask.
“Renting a room would be a start,” Diva replied with a hint of a smirk. What? Bobby was fun to tease and if he went with it, she’d totally be on board.
"On it." Hoping that she was actually serious and he wasn't getting a room for no reason, Bobby got to his feet, held up a finger to ask her wait, and then headed off in search of the tavern's owner. There were rooms upstairs - with any luck, one of them would still be available.
Even more hopefully? He wouldn't be sleeping in it alone.
Diva watched Bobby go, then, when he was out of sight, downed the last of her drink and slid the money for both her and Bobby’s tab over to the barkeep. “Cute, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Try not to ruin him too much, eh?” Earl replied with a rough chuckle.
“No promises,” Diva replied.
Bobby wove his way through the crowded streets, his lute slung over his shoulder, ignoring the way it felt as if the oh-so-solid land beneath his feet felt as if it were moving. It would settle down soon enough, and a few pints at the pub would help tremendously. All the more so if he didn't have to pay for them, which was reason enough to bring his lute.
It was a shame, though, that the Captain had taken off as soon as they'd tied off at the dock. Not a surprise, all things considered, but still. A shame. He would've rather had someone to drink with...
The shouts of a crowd to his left caught his attention, and he grinned. Ah, the fighting pit. He glanced towards the pub, then inwardly shrugged. He could swing by the pit first, make a wager or two. That tiny barbarian woman who'd been there the last time he'd been in port had been amazing. With any luck, he could make a few coppers before he even got to the pub. In any case, he had a better chance of making them that way than he did by playing.
“Place your bets! Place your bets!” the bookie shouted. He was a thin man with a comb-over that was dressed in a sharp-looking suit that looked worn at the edges upon closer inspection. “Diva versus Carl the Crusher! A fight like you’ve never seen before! Place your bets!”
Diva stood in the pit, stretching and making a show of looking threatening. A large, excited crowd was gathering, and the energy gathering in the air was electric. This was going to be a good match. She grinned across at her competitor—a large man nearly twice Diva’s height and weight with slicked back hair and a braided beard—who sneering snarled in reply.
Yeah, this was going to be awesome.
Bobby sidled his way through the crowd to the bookie and managed to place a few silvers on Diva just as the fight began, then looked around, trying to figure out the best available place from which to watch the match. After a few moments, he grinned and headed out of the crowd towards a building that faced the pit - and which, more importantly, had a flat roof. Not particularly eager to draw attention, he walked around to the back - and then clasped his hand around the ice amulet he'd taken off a sailor a year or two earlier. Usually he used it to stall enemy ships, but if he concentrated...
A tower of ice rose up under his feet, carrying him to the empty rooftop. Grinning, he headed towards the front edge of the building. He had the best seat in the house.
Diva and the Crusher had been on one another the moment the fight started. The Crusher swung a meaty fist at Diva that she ducked to avoid before leaping to bring the heel of her palm to his jaw. There was a resounding crack of bones or teeth breaking as it connected. He let out a howl of rage, blood flecking across Diva’s face. She just grinned.
The fight went on for not even ten minutes, the two exchanging blows as the crowd gasped, cheered, and heckled around them. When it was over, both Diva and Carl the Crusher were bruised, bleeding, and broken, but only Diva still remained on her feet.
"YES!" Bobby cheered along with much of the crowd; those who'd either had bets on Diva or who were just happy to see the local champion beat her opponent. He leaned over the edge of the roof and threw a fist up into the air, trying to catch Diva's eye. He didn't have much hope of accomplishing it, though, considering that he was reasonably sure at least half the people there, male and female, were trying to do the exact same thing.
As Diva turned to wave to the crowd, she spotted someone waving wildly from a rooftop. She gave him a wink and blew him a kiss (which another enthusiastic fan mimed catching), then did a running wall-climb out of the fighting pit. After collecting her winnings, she weaved her way through the crowd, greeting people or thanking them for congratulating her on her victory as she went.
Eventually, finally, Diva found herself past the crowd, many of whom were already clamoring to bet on the next fight. In the mood for a drink, she headed for her favorite tavern as she wiped the blood from her face.
With a silly grin on his face, Bobby made his way down from the rooftop by more ordinary means, and headed off in search of the drink he'd originally been seeking. Diva. Diva had thrown him a kiss. Him. Utterly bemused by this occurrence (which he thought might actually be the highlight of his life, thus far), Bobby entered the tavern and sauntered off to the bar, not even looking around at his surroundings.
A half a second later, the door slammed open and Diva stood on the threshold. She was grinning, and she lifted both arms over her head as she crowed, “A round of drinks on me!” A cheer went up from the gathered patrons.
Bobby spun on his heels, an astonished expression on his face, and grinned as he grabbed a tankard from the counter. "And a toast to Diva, the greatest - and prettiest - fighter the Pit has ever seen!" he called out before anyone else could. And took a drink - or tried. As it turned out, the tankard was empty, but hey. Hopefully no one would notice that part.
Diva’s grin at the cheer grew when she realized where it was coming from. She sauntered over, and sat herself down on the bar stool beside his. “Well, if it isn’t rooftop guy.” Giving him a grin, she scooped up the tankard of ale the bartender put down in front of her. “Enjoy the show?”
Fighting an urge to look behind him to see if Hana might be talking to someone else, Bobby grinned back and tried to look casual, as if talking to hot pit fighters was something he did on a daily basis. "Definitely," he assured her. "I had the best view in the house."
“How’d it look from up there? I might have to steal that trick myself the next time I watch a match.” Diva then took of swig of ale and offered out a hand to shake. “I guess I don’t need any introduction. What’s your name, roof guy?”
Oh, right! Bobby took her hand, debated whether or not he could pull off one of Kurt's classy hand kissing moves, decided he'd just look ridiculous, and shook it instead. "Bobby. Bobby Drake. I'm a sailor on The Aurora." He gestured towards the lute slung over his back and grinned a little. "And a wannabe bard, but trust me, there's more wannabe there than bardness. And yeah. You looked great from up on the roof." His grin turned mischievous and he shrugged. "Not as good as you look from here? But still really good.”
Alright, so it was cheesy, but it was gutsy too and Diva liked guts. …That sounded wrong. “What can I say? I wear the blood of my enemies really well,” she joked. “Brings out the color of my eyes. I—” She stopped as a large half-orc woman clapped her on the shoulder with a grunt of ‘good fight’. “Thanks, Rockgut!” The woman grunted again in reply, then grabbed a drink from the barkeep and ambled off.
“Sorry about that,” Diva said to Bobby. “So, you play the lute, huh?”
"So I maintain. Opinions vary," Bobby joked. He pulled the lute from his back and set to tuning it. "What would you like to hear?"
Diva propped her chin on her hand and, grinning at Bobby, gestured for him to go ahead. “Surprise me, bard boy.”
Surprise her. Bobby grinned, plucked a chord, and began strumming the tune to a popular song extolling the virtues of a lovely lady - but instead of following the usual verses, did some improvisation and made the lady in question the victor of the pit fights. The lyrics weren't especially inspired, he had to admit, but they weren't half bad, either. He'd have to do some tweaking of them later.
When Diva realized the song wasn’t going as expected and it was, actually, about her, she let out a laugh. He wasn’t the best singer she’d heard, but he was good and the improvised lyrics were amazingly done and hilarious to boot. She clapped when he was finished and dug some gold pieces out of her pocket to toss onto the table.
Bobby blushed and waved aside both the money and her applause. "Thank you, thank you - but honestly, it was nothing. I was inspired." He grinned at her and rested his elbow on the bar. "So, how long have you been battling in the pits? I saw you there last time we docked here, but I don't remember you before that."
Diva slid some of the gold to Earl, the barkeep, ordering them both another round, and then pocketed the rest for later. “I’m not from here originally,” she explained. “I traveled a little, training and fighting in different pits, then I got here and—” she shrugged, “decided to stick around for a while.”
“What’s being a sailor like?” Diva asked.
"Pretty cool, actually." Bobby leaned back on the bar and grinned. "Travel, excitement, and while the pay varies a lot? It's usually pretty good."
“What kind of ship do you sail with? Merchant? Fishing?” Diva finished off her ale just as Earl set down a new mug for both herself and Bobby. He took her empty away, then nodded at Bobby behind Bobby’s back and shot her a knowing wink before walking away.
"Mmm...well, you could kind of call the Aurora a merchant ship," Bobby mused, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I mean, we definitely take on cargo. Just, y'know, not normally in port."
Smirking, Diva arched an eyebrow. “And let me guess, you get this cargo by selflessly relieving it from other ships.”
"It's a tough job," Bobby confirmed as he tried hard not to grin, without complete success. "But somebody has to do it. Might as well be us."
Diva’s laugh almost had her choking on a mouthful of ale. “How noble of you,” she joked. “And how did you end up in that line of charitable work?”
"Blatant favoritism," he admitted with a grin. "The captain's a friend of mine. I didn't even have to apply for the job."
That made Diva wonder what the pirate interview process would even be like ‘cause the pit fighter one was definitely unique. “I’m sure you were the right man for it,” she told him.
"I dunno," Bobby teased. "I mean, I look great in a bandana, and I have about the same IQ as a parrot? But, I'm a chicken about getting my ear pierced, and I'm pretty sure I can't rock the leather pants." He grinned and picked up his ale. "Now you, on the other hand..." He waggled his eyebrows.
Man, this flirt! But, Diva wasn’t gonna argue it; she totally could rock leather pants. “Barbarians are more of a less is more kind of people,” she replied with a gesture to her furs and leathers which covered enough, but not nearly as much as traditional armor did. “So, when you say you look great in a bandana, do you mean just a bandana?”
Bobby felt his face warm, but managed to keep a cocky grin intact. "Want to find out?"
Diva smirked. “I’m considering it.”
"Anything I can do to tip that answering towards a yes?" Bobby asked, his eyebrows rising as he smirked back. After all, it didn't hurt to ask.
“Renting a room would be a start,” Diva replied with a hint of a smirk. What? Bobby was fun to tease and if he went with it, she’d totally be on board.
"On it." Hoping that she was actually serious and he wasn't getting a room for no reason, Bobby got to his feet, held up a finger to ask her wait, and then headed off in search of the tavern's owner. There were rooms upstairs - with any luck, one of them would still be available.
Even more hopefully? He wouldn't be sleeping in it alone.
Diva watched Bobby go, then, when he was out of sight, downed the last of her drink and slid the money for both her and Bobby’s tab over to the barkeep. “Cute, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Try not to ruin him too much, eh?” Earl replied with a rough chuckle.
“No promises,” Diva replied.
