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If there was one well used to being the last man standing - in a tavern, not on a battlefield- then it was Silanos. Indeed, his own drinking companions had melted away, citing early starts or other such dullness as an excuse. The younger of the Valaoritis Lords was not ready to call it a night yet though, had not yet reached the level of intoxication that would make sleep a safe endeavour. And so he wandered into a tavern different from his usual haunts but that at least seemed to have some life still in the place.
It was a little grimy for his taste if he were honest, popular with soldiers, of which there were plenty in Midas. The young man wrinkled his nose a little, but beggars could not be choosers when it came to burning the midnight oil and so he swept a glance around the place, taking a measure of those present, looking for likely companions.
Unusually, there were no familiar faces, but he had been away for a while, and he supposed that was the price to be paid. It had never dissuaded him anyway, the young lord picked up friends and acquaintances easy enough. Ambling over toward the bar, he caught the eye of a girl, sat a table over the way, winked at her, and then motioned the barkeep to bring him a drink, before he drifted over toward her table.
“Saving this seat for someone?” Sil queried, nudging the one opposite with his foot. “Or are your friends all dullards like mine and headed home already?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before sitting down anyway, slouching with an easy grace, his forearm lying along the edge of the table as he looked over at her.
Without shame, the lord’s eyes wandered over her face, down and then back up again, a smile curling at the edge of his lips. His skin was flushed, and the brightness that wine had lent to his eyes did not do much to detract from the shadows beneath, ashy smudges that looked like long-term companions. It gave him the appearance of someone who’d just woken up, and maybe a little too soon. After a moment the suggestion of a smile turned into a shark like grin, and Sil leant forward a little.
“Silanos of Valaoritis. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”
He left a space for the girl to fill in her name, only sitting back as the serving girl brought over a jug of wine which the lord poured freely into his cup before holding out in offering to his new companion. Whether she accepted or not, the jug was soon set down on the table with a thunk and Sil looked over the rest of the tavern’s patrons with a skeptical eye.
“This your usual crowd?” he asked, returning his attention to the girl, one brow lifted in question. She was not of noble birth, he was almost certain, but didn’t look peasant either. Somewhere between, merchants or some such.Not that Silanos much cared. Hot rich girls, hot poor girls, girls who were a little better with the lights off or with more wine than he’d had that night. He was an unabashed flirt whichever way.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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If there was one well used to being the last man standing - in a tavern, not on a battlefield- then it was Silanos. Indeed, his own drinking companions had melted away, citing early starts or other such dullness as an excuse. The younger of the Valaoritis Lords was not ready to call it a night yet though, had not yet reached the level of intoxication that would make sleep a safe endeavour. And so he wandered into a tavern different from his usual haunts but that at least seemed to have some life still in the place.
It was a little grimy for his taste if he were honest, popular with soldiers, of which there were plenty in Midas. The young man wrinkled his nose a little, but beggars could not be choosers when it came to burning the midnight oil and so he swept a glance around the place, taking a measure of those present, looking for likely companions.
Unusually, there were no familiar faces, but he had been away for a while, and he supposed that was the price to be paid. It had never dissuaded him anyway, the young lord picked up friends and acquaintances easy enough. Ambling over toward the bar, he caught the eye of a girl, sat a table over the way, winked at her, and then motioned the barkeep to bring him a drink, before he drifted over toward her table.
“Saving this seat for someone?” Sil queried, nudging the one opposite with his foot. “Or are your friends all dullards like mine and headed home already?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before sitting down anyway, slouching with an easy grace, his forearm lying along the edge of the table as he looked over at her.
Without shame, the lord’s eyes wandered over her face, down and then back up again, a smile curling at the edge of his lips. His skin was flushed, and the brightness that wine had lent to his eyes did not do much to detract from the shadows beneath, ashy smudges that looked like long-term companions. It gave him the appearance of someone who’d just woken up, and maybe a little too soon. After a moment the suggestion of a smile turned into a shark like grin, and Sil leant forward a little.
“Silanos of Valaoritis. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”
He left a space for the girl to fill in her name, only sitting back as the serving girl brought over a jug of wine which the lord poured freely into his cup before holding out in offering to his new companion. Whether she accepted or not, the jug was soon set down on the table with a thunk and Sil looked over the rest of the tavern’s patrons with a skeptical eye.
“This your usual crowd?” he asked, returning his attention to the girl, one brow lifted in question. She was not of noble birth, he was almost certain, but didn’t look peasant either. Somewhere between, merchants or some such.Not that Silanos much cared. Hot rich girls, hot poor girls, girls who were a little better with the lights off or with more wine than he’d had that night. He was an unabashed flirt whichever way.
If there was one well used to being the last man standing - in a tavern, not on a battlefield- then it was Silanos. Indeed, his own drinking companions had melted away, citing early starts or other such dullness as an excuse. The younger of the Valaoritis Lords was not ready to call it a night yet though, had not yet reached the level of intoxication that would make sleep a safe endeavour. And so he wandered into a tavern different from his usual haunts but that at least seemed to have some life still in the place.
It was a little grimy for his taste if he were honest, popular with soldiers, of which there were plenty in Midas. The young man wrinkled his nose a little, but beggars could not be choosers when it came to burning the midnight oil and so he swept a glance around the place, taking a measure of those present, looking for likely companions.
Unusually, there were no familiar faces, but he had been away for a while, and he supposed that was the price to be paid. It had never dissuaded him anyway, the young lord picked up friends and acquaintances easy enough. Ambling over toward the bar, he caught the eye of a girl, sat a table over the way, winked at her, and then motioned the barkeep to bring him a drink, before he drifted over toward her table.
“Saving this seat for someone?” Sil queried, nudging the one opposite with his foot. “Or are your friends all dullards like mine and headed home already?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before sitting down anyway, slouching with an easy grace, his forearm lying along the edge of the table as he looked over at her.
Without shame, the lord’s eyes wandered over her face, down and then back up again, a smile curling at the edge of his lips. His skin was flushed, and the brightness that wine had lent to his eyes did not do much to detract from the shadows beneath, ashy smudges that looked like long-term companions. It gave him the appearance of someone who’d just woken up, and maybe a little too soon. After a moment the suggestion of a smile turned into a shark like grin, and Sil leant forward a little.
“Silanos of Valaoritis. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”
He left a space for the girl to fill in her name, only sitting back as the serving girl brought over a jug of wine which the lord poured freely into his cup before holding out in offering to his new companion. Whether she accepted or not, the jug was soon set down on the table with a thunk and Sil looked over the rest of the tavern’s patrons with a skeptical eye.
“This your usual crowd?” he asked, returning his attention to the girl, one brow lifted in question. She was not of noble birth, he was almost certain, but didn’t look peasant either. Somewhere between, merchants or some such.Not that Silanos much cared. Hot rich girls, hot poor girls, girls who were a little better with the lights off or with more wine than he’d had that night. He was an unabashed flirt whichever way.
There were no patterns with where they went, only one requirement: that it be full of wine and people who were determined not to care. Thyra rarely dropped a word in where the group of revelers went - they were the kind of people who were insistent on mindlessness. Her words were often met with blind agreement rather than the opinion and vigor she prided herself on. But she could easily lose herself among them, and they did often promise a good time - a numbing agent she frequently needed.
The more she fought against her fate, the more her actions seemed to narrow her options to just that. The more companions she found, the lonelier she felt. Which was how she found herself the lone occupant at the table. Many of her friends had passed by the table, and she was a part of every discussion, and each reaction she gave was as varied as the company. But it was an unusual night - she was feeling unusual, herself. She missed her sister. They had never gotten on, not since their mother had passed, but she had gotten a glimpse of what they could be - the friends she had always hoped for. Those moments came on occasion.
Thyra wanted to forget - she came out with her friends to forget, as she often did. And now all she was doing was sitting, remembering. But it wasn’t to be for much longer.
Caramel eyes lifted at the voice, too close to be mistaken for speaking to anyone else, even as cramped as the quarters often got in places such as this, and the figure joined her before she could confirm her company’s absence. He was handsome - it was a fact she took in quickly, and confirmed with a slow sweep across his arms, wrapped in wiry muscles that dipped beneath his garment. He had a charming smile, a strong jawline that Zeus’ son would be proud of, and his eyes were sharp - or they would be, were it not for the wine that made them unfocused in a way.
Her assessment didn’t take long, and her approval was marked by the smirk that just lifted the corners of her mouth. His certainty was something she admired, even if she could tell it was helped along by the alcohol that warmed his cheeks.
”Thyra. Of Midas,” She motioned vaguely around them. By the gods, she was too sober if she would care that he looked like he’d had a week’s worth of ill sleep. Thyra tipped her head lightly, taking the proffered cup in hand and took a deep swallow.
The burn as she swallowed was satisfying, and she leaned forward. ”Does it look like my usual crowd?” she asked, arching one dark brow. The look was something of a challenge, a game. She was playing with him, and how he answered was just one move to determine whether or not she would let him win.
Thyra was a flirt, perhaps a little too free, but it didn’t mean she was easy. And the ones who played the hardest also were the best reward.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There were no patterns with where they went, only one requirement: that it be full of wine and people who were determined not to care. Thyra rarely dropped a word in where the group of revelers went - they were the kind of people who were insistent on mindlessness. Her words were often met with blind agreement rather than the opinion and vigor she prided herself on. But she could easily lose herself among them, and they did often promise a good time - a numbing agent she frequently needed.
The more she fought against her fate, the more her actions seemed to narrow her options to just that. The more companions she found, the lonelier she felt. Which was how she found herself the lone occupant at the table. Many of her friends had passed by the table, and she was a part of every discussion, and each reaction she gave was as varied as the company. But it was an unusual night - she was feeling unusual, herself. She missed her sister. They had never gotten on, not since their mother had passed, but she had gotten a glimpse of what they could be - the friends she had always hoped for. Those moments came on occasion.
Thyra wanted to forget - she came out with her friends to forget, as she often did. And now all she was doing was sitting, remembering. But it wasn’t to be for much longer.
Caramel eyes lifted at the voice, too close to be mistaken for speaking to anyone else, even as cramped as the quarters often got in places such as this, and the figure joined her before she could confirm her company’s absence. He was handsome - it was a fact she took in quickly, and confirmed with a slow sweep across his arms, wrapped in wiry muscles that dipped beneath his garment. He had a charming smile, a strong jawline that Zeus’ son would be proud of, and his eyes were sharp - or they would be, were it not for the wine that made them unfocused in a way.
Her assessment didn’t take long, and her approval was marked by the smirk that just lifted the corners of her mouth. His certainty was something she admired, even if she could tell it was helped along by the alcohol that warmed his cheeks.
”Thyra. Of Midas,” She motioned vaguely around them. By the gods, she was too sober if she would care that he looked like he’d had a week’s worth of ill sleep. Thyra tipped her head lightly, taking the proffered cup in hand and took a deep swallow.
The burn as she swallowed was satisfying, and she leaned forward. ”Does it look like my usual crowd?” she asked, arching one dark brow. The look was something of a challenge, a game. She was playing with him, and how he answered was just one move to determine whether or not she would let him win.
Thyra was a flirt, perhaps a little too free, but it didn’t mean she was easy. And the ones who played the hardest also were the best reward.
There were no patterns with where they went, only one requirement: that it be full of wine and people who were determined not to care. Thyra rarely dropped a word in where the group of revelers went - they were the kind of people who were insistent on mindlessness. Her words were often met with blind agreement rather than the opinion and vigor she prided herself on. But she could easily lose herself among them, and they did often promise a good time - a numbing agent she frequently needed.
The more she fought against her fate, the more her actions seemed to narrow her options to just that. The more companions she found, the lonelier she felt. Which was how she found herself the lone occupant at the table. Many of her friends had passed by the table, and she was a part of every discussion, and each reaction she gave was as varied as the company. But it was an unusual night - she was feeling unusual, herself. She missed her sister. They had never gotten on, not since their mother had passed, but she had gotten a glimpse of what they could be - the friends she had always hoped for. Those moments came on occasion.
Thyra wanted to forget - she came out with her friends to forget, as she often did. And now all she was doing was sitting, remembering. But it wasn’t to be for much longer.
Caramel eyes lifted at the voice, too close to be mistaken for speaking to anyone else, even as cramped as the quarters often got in places such as this, and the figure joined her before she could confirm her company’s absence. He was handsome - it was a fact she took in quickly, and confirmed with a slow sweep across his arms, wrapped in wiry muscles that dipped beneath his garment. He had a charming smile, a strong jawline that Zeus’ son would be proud of, and his eyes were sharp - or they would be, were it not for the wine that made them unfocused in a way.
Her assessment didn’t take long, and her approval was marked by the smirk that just lifted the corners of her mouth. His certainty was something she admired, even if she could tell it was helped along by the alcohol that warmed his cheeks.
”Thyra. Of Midas,” She motioned vaguely around them. By the gods, she was too sober if she would care that he looked like he’d had a week’s worth of ill sleep. Thyra tipped her head lightly, taking the proffered cup in hand and took a deep swallow.
The burn as she swallowed was satisfying, and she leaned forward. ”Does it look like my usual crowd?” she asked, arching one dark brow. The look was something of a challenge, a game. She was playing with him, and how he answered was just one move to determine whether or not she would let him win.
Thyra was a flirt, perhaps a little too free, but it didn’t mean she was easy. And the ones who played the hardest also were the best reward.
“Thyra of Midas” He repeated her name back to her, eyes not leaving her face, grin staying in place. He took note of the big dark eyes, the full lips, approving of the way she didn’t hesitate to accept the wine. When she leant forward, he simply canted his head to the side, amusement evident in his expression and after a moment, he looked around them once more as if paying more attention to those others in the tavern.
“Well, let me see” Silanos mused, flickering his gaze back to his new companion. “You like soldier boys? Then perhaps. Or..you surround yourself with people just a little bit duller than you so you shine brightest? Maybe. Are you not having fun here tonight, Thyra?”
His tone was light, not quite mocking but with a hint of some tease or other, and Silanos slouched back into his seat, watching her again with those blue eyes for a few moments. She held his attention for a little while that way, there was always something interesting in finding out the dynamic of a group, where someone fits in. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eye.
Silanos liked to be in the middle of one. He was generous -much to his older brother’s dismay - first to buy a drink, and generally easy-going. Indeed, the young lord lived to be entertained, and whether that was offered to him or he had to seek it out himself, it made no matter. The desired result was the same: fun. He’d rather be surrounded by people than on his own. And if he was on his own? Then he’d better be well-soaked or with a pipe to send him off into a dreamless sleep.
Right now, the need to sleep was a pressing threat: he hadn’t done more than a snatch an hour for the past three or four days, so he was wandering that line of recklessness, where reasoning seemed harder to grasp a hold of. Words were...a little harder to lay his hands on. He was having to think hard to arrange them in the right order, which fuck, made being charming that much more difficult. He’d crash soon, and hard, and it was the desire to forestall such an occurrence that had seen him wander into this tavern.
The young Lord drained his cup and tipped forward to refill it. He had to blink a couple of times to refocus so he didn't pour it all over the table. “That would be a travesty” he murmured to himself before Thyra won his attention back again and he said to her “ So what does it mean if a pretty girl is sitting at a table on her own. Stood up? On the prowl for some poor unassuming fellow to draw into your web of seduction? Tell me its the latter please?”
He shrugged. “Though...unassuming..not my natural state of being. I could be persuaded to make an exception though, with the right motivation”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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“Thyra of Midas” He repeated her name back to her, eyes not leaving her face, grin staying in place. He took note of the big dark eyes, the full lips, approving of the way she didn’t hesitate to accept the wine. When she leant forward, he simply canted his head to the side, amusement evident in his expression and after a moment, he looked around them once more as if paying more attention to those others in the tavern.
“Well, let me see” Silanos mused, flickering his gaze back to his new companion. “You like soldier boys? Then perhaps. Or..you surround yourself with people just a little bit duller than you so you shine brightest? Maybe. Are you not having fun here tonight, Thyra?”
His tone was light, not quite mocking but with a hint of some tease or other, and Silanos slouched back into his seat, watching her again with those blue eyes for a few moments. She held his attention for a little while that way, there was always something interesting in finding out the dynamic of a group, where someone fits in. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eye.
Silanos liked to be in the middle of one. He was generous -much to his older brother’s dismay - first to buy a drink, and generally easy-going. Indeed, the young lord lived to be entertained, and whether that was offered to him or he had to seek it out himself, it made no matter. The desired result was the same: fun. He’d rather be surrounded by people than on his own. And if he was on his own? Then he’d better be well-soaked or with a pipe to send him off into a dreamless sleep.
Right now, the need to sleep was a pressing threat: he hadn’t done more than a snatch an hour for the past three or four days, so he was wandering that line of recklessness, where reasoning seemed harder to grasp a hold of. Words were...a little harder to lay his hands on. He was having to think hard to arrange them in the right order, which fuck, made being charming that much more difficult. He’d crash soon, and hard, and it was the desire to forestall such an occurrence that had seen him wander into this tavern.
The young Lord drained his cup and tipped forward to refill it. He had to blink a couple of times to refocus so he didn't pour it all over the table. “That would be a travesty” he murmured to himself before Thyra won his attention back again and he said to her “ So what does it mean if a pretty girl is sitting at a table on her own. Stood up? On the prowl for some poor unassuming fellow to draw into your web of seduction? Tell me its the latter please?”
He shrugged. “Though...unassuming..not my natural state of being. I could be persuaded to make an exception though, with the right motivation”
“Thyra of Midas” He repeated her name back to her, eyes not leaving her face, grin staying in place. He took note of the big dark eyes, the full lips, approving of the way she didn’t hesitate to accept the wine. When she leant forward, he simply canted his head to the side, amusement evident in his expression and after a moment, he looked around them once more as if paying more attention to those others in the tavern.
“Well, let me see” Silanos mused, flickering his gaze back to his new companion. “You like soldier boys? Then perhaps. Or..you surround yourself with people just a little bit duller than you so you shine brightest? Maybe. Are you not having fun here tonight, Thyra?”
His tone was light, not quite mocking but with a hint of some tease or other, and Silanos slouched back into his seat, watching her again with those blue eyes for a few moments. She held his attention for a little while that way, there was always something interesting in finding out the dynamic of a group, where someone fits in. It didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eye.
Silanos liked to be in the middle of one. He was generous -much to his older brother’s dismay - first to buy a drink, and generally easy-going. Indeed, the young lord lived to be entertained, and whether that was offered to him or he had to seek it out himself, it made no matter. The desired result was the same: fun. He’d rather be surrounded by people than on his own. And if he was on his own? Then he’d better be well-soaked or with a pipe to send him off into a dreamless sleep.
Right now, the need to sleep was a pressing threat: he hadn’t done more than a snatch an hour for the past three or four days, so he was wandering that line of recklessness, where reasoning seemed harder to grasp a hold of. Words were...a little harder to lay his hands on. He was having to think hard to arrange them in the right order, which fuck, made being charming that much more difficult. He’d crash soon, and hard, and it was the desire to forestall such an occurrence that had seen him wander into this tavern.
The young Lord drained his cup and tipped forward to refill it. He had to blink a couple of times to refocus so he didn't pour it all over the table. “That would be a travesty” he murmured to himself before Thyra won his attention back again and he said to her “ So what does it mean if a pretty girl is sitting at a table on her own. Stood up? On the prowl for some poor unassuming fellow to draw into your web of seduction? Tell me its the latter please?”
He shrugged. “Though...unassuming..not my natural state of being. I could be persuaded to make an exception though, with the right motivation”