“As long as that creep doesn’t join us, sure.” The ladybug answered, staring down Scalthis.
The firefly let her be for a bit and walked over to Evelyn. “Ignore her, she can be a bit quick to anger sometimes-”
“Hey pot, meet kettle!” The ladybug yells back at her.
The firefly sighs, yet smiles. “That’s Eleanor. She’s alright. I’m Felicia, and the little guy up at the bar is Leo. And sure, we can join you. Some more company’s always appreciated, as long as it’s good company.”
“Pleasure ta meet ya, my name’s Evelyn. Don’t worry about lanky over there he’s just a bit awkward y’know?”
Eleanor gives him one more suspicious look, then turns back to look at Evelyn. “Alright, I guess.” She says, walking over.
Leo walks over with three drinks and gives one to each of the two girls. “Here ya go.” He said.
Felicia and Eleanor both took one, and started to drink somewhat lightly. Eleanor had water, while Felicia and Leo both had some tree sap.
Almost as if on cue, Scalthus’ head suddenly violently twitched, turning a full 90 degrees before quickly jerking back into place.
Sopter waited in his Chambers for the firefly.
Eleanor shoots him a look mixed with feelings of ‘creeped out’ and ‘untrusting,’ before turning back to the others. “So.” She asked, taking a sip of her drink. “When do we head out?”
“Soon as we feel like it I suppose”
“I’m ready.” Chimed Scalthus.
“We’re ready.” Felicia said, the other two looking at each other, then nodding.
The firefly skidded up to the entrance of Sopter’s room before dusting himself off and bowing. “He’s on his way, my lord.”
The Weaver stalked out of the capitol in a less than amiable mood. He was very crushed by the passive denial of his gift by Goliath, and his tiny eyes darted about at every raindrop. So focused on his complex emotions, however, that he didn’t notice the party of five which was likely leaving the Sand Tavern.
Sopter nods, “you may sit as we wait.”
There was skittering along the floor as Consir walked throughout the Capital, returning from the outskirts of the country after hearing about the king’s death.
Capry stood up and headed for the bar to pay his drink. He then asked for indications as of where he could attempt joining the imperial guard.
The bartender glanced at him with the deadest glaze over his eyes. “Capitol.” He grumbled. “Talk to the Shogunate.”
The door opened as Consir entered the bar, rapid tapping could be heard from his many legs hitting the ground
The door was barely big enough for Consir, whose massive form dragged the unappreciative eyes of the bartender to glance over at him. “A mug for every leg?” He jested, almost entirely to himself, before going back to staring at the multiple racks of makeshift clay cups.
Consir lifts up his front seven inches, folding his legs in as he did so, "such a jest is not appreciated " he said coldly
“Thank you.” he said as he slowly walked pass Consir and out of the bar.
He started looking for a way to arrive the fastest to the Capitol.
“Mind the ceiling.” The bartender said sardonically, not bothering to glance back in Consir’s direction. The other denizens of the bar, however, were a bit startled by Consir’s sudden appearance, a few of them relocating to places further towards the walls.
The fastest way Capry could see was the trodden-down dirt path leading right to the capitol’s gate. It was within viewing distance, and two Holos guarded the door.
The door to the windmill slowly creaked open as the Weaver stepped through. It was a small, cramped place, filled with all sorts of untouched sewing equipment and a heavily used loom. A disdainful and horrific shriek suddenly erupted from beneath the floor, but the Weaver tapped the floor twice in response.
“It’s alright, it’s just me.”
He pulled up on a large brass handle hidden in the floor, opening up a panel of bark. The dim light only reflected off of the large eyes of its inhabitant. “I got you some food,” The Weaver spoke, before dropping the bundle down into the hole. The eyes disappeared for a moment and then looked back up.
“Again, thank you Machua.” The voice chirped. “You’re the only one who cared and believed me.”
“Stop that,” The Weaver retorted softly. “That’s the same blasted thing you say every time I bring you food. Now that’ll last you a couple of days. I have to go out again, I’ll be back by nightfall.”
The bark was replaced, and the Weaver, ever meticulous with his movements, stalked back towards the Capitol.
“I shall take one drink however,” replies Consir, heading the advice
Felicia eyes the large creature warily, and makes sure she was between it and Eleanor, knowing her friend all too well.
Meanwhile, Leo just averted his gaze, trying not to stare.