vivala | 01 - a retired lord commander walks into a bar

01 the market stalls

Freedom tasted sweet, and since the moment he was brought to Flotsam, he got the impression he was going to like it here. Striding through one passage or another, listening to the erratic but somehow melodious sounds of Flotsam, he knew he could find a place here. It was busy, there were parts of it that smelled, but it was free, and it was populated by an eclectic bunch of renegades that reminded him so much of his own it made him homesick.

Which meant ploughing on until he secured his own space to brood in and hopefully acclimate to this place. After months slaving under Imperial lashes working on their machines, being here seemed like something of a miracle, and while he was bone tired, soul tired even, he couldn't very well leave the lot of them to their own devices. That meant he needed to be prepared, he needed to figure out what his role would be in this place, and he needed to meet the locals. So, top of the list? Preparation. The Empire had stripped him of all he'd had on him at the time, and that included his swords. They'd need to be replaced, which meant a trip to the market stalls for gear and armor if he was going to be of any use to these people who'd given him a chance at freedom.

He started at a weapons stall, testing the weight of swords with the skill of a man who'd done so all his life, sighting down the blades, one after another, feeling their weight in his hand. "Fine craftsmanship, mate." He smirked at the vendor, "less, of course, you don't make 'em here, then good eye, I guess. Either way, I'll take it."

He spends a bit more time browsing wares, getting a feel for the place, the sorts of goods that cross the decks of a floating city and the sorts of conversations that are had among the market stalls, finding a blessing by the end of it: a satchel of tobacco and rolling papers. Maybe fate's smiling on him after all.

02 waterlogged row

Taverns the world over, and those from another world he used to call home, shared common threads: people unwound there, they drank some kind of swill, and they talked. Where normally Cid would be taking this as an opportunity to learn ought that was going on around the realm, his knowledge of this world he'd found himself in was still limited to the point that he was just absorbing pieces: geography, politics beyond what little he'd been able to glean from overheard conversations from his captors, and anything else that might be useful.

Or rumors of where he could be useful. By the way he strode into the tavern in question, he knew how to use the swords at his hip, but he wasn't walking in threatening people with them, either. Instead, he makes to prop up the bar, so to speak, lighting a freshly rolled cigarette and ordering whatever's on tap while he keeps an eye out for any interesting individuals who might stride in.

03 wildcard

( ooc: Cid can be found in various places around Flotsam, as he's getting acclimated. I'd be totally down you you setting your own scene, or if you'd me to write a prompt, drop me a line! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

straykitty

Cid might find it odd to see a young lady with a rather proper look about her stride purposefully into the tavern. Wearing a gray overcoat and a frilly white black dress with a white bust. Her hair is neatly tied with a black ribbon, and she wears red tights over black boots. A fair bit more put together than the motley crew of Flotsam, by any rate. As she enters, she scans the room, seemingly quite at ease with the rougher environment. Spotting Cid, she gives him an appraising look, before smiling faintly and taking a seat right across from him. She says nothing at first, watching him to see if he'll object or make the first move before deciding if she'll speak.

From:

thunderwarden

It may not be strange if it was any tavern, but this one, that smelled like a few choice things no lady had any business being around, she stood out like a coeurl in a chocobo paddock, or like a certain Dominant of Shiva in a brothel.

She had the action about her of someone either seeking him out or being on a similar mission. Either way, she'd made herself accessible and he was nothing if not a man of...opportunity.

"Well good evening, lass. You fancy a drink with every shady character who darkens this bar or am I a lucky one?"

From:

straykitty

Renne giggles daintily. "I've yet to find a character shadier than I, so I find this to be good company. Especially since experienced folk such as yourself who likely have recent intel on the Empire seem to wander in every now and again."

Edited Date: 2024-12-17 11:54 pm (UTC)

From:

thunderwarden

"Right, then. Shady until proven otherwise." Looks could definitely be deceiving and he wasn't about to judge. He takes a long pull from his cigarette, polite enough to exhale away from her. It wasn't great tobacco, or they just grew different stuff in the Twins, but it did the job of helping him feel more like himself than he has in weeks.

"Is this to be an interrogation, then, or are we going to have us a proper chat, first?"

From:

straykitty

"I'll leave that up to you," Renne says with a smile. "You don't seem like much of a screamer, so the latter is probably going to be far more entertaining."

From:

thunderwarden

"Dark, but I'll allow it." He arches an eyebrow at her. "How's about introductions, lass? Ladies first."

From:

straykitty

"Renne Bright. A pleasure."

She gives him a sweet smile as a waitress brings out a sweet looking orange drink without even taking her order and sets it down on the table beside her.