Neotown is a RP forum based on the world of neopets!
Administrator
Codes from 
Post by Jazilyn on Oct 25, 2013 2:37:24 GMT -5
The draik stood stork-legged near one of the grimy windows of the only pub in town, leaning against the window frame with her arms crossed haughtily before her chest. Her crimson eye flickered to the full moon looming in the sky above, then to the line of trees in the distance; and every so often, her draiken ears would flutter with the sound of a lupe howling. They were here; she could almost sense them.
"Sure ya won't have a drink, Miss?" The voice of the bartender broke her concentration, and she turned her attention toward him.
The draik left the window and crossed the room, her leather flip-flops smacking the bottom of her heels as she walked. She took a stool at the counter. "No," she replied coldly, silently repulsed by the very notion of drinking, "Just water".
She made the bartender uncomfortable, but that was nothing new to her; she made most people uncomfortable, sometimes without even trying. Maybe it was the way her unruly, long gray hair was pulled to completely cover the left half of her face, leaving only one dark, crimson eye visible. Or maybe it was the black trench coat she wore over an equally black vest and skirt; or the way the coat was left open to show off her exposed abdomen. Maybe it was the bow and quiver full of arrows that she kept secured on her back. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing a pair of dark gloves inside, and had refused to take them off; or the fact that at all times her tail was curled up in her coat and completely hidden. But if she had to make only one guess, she would say it was probably her overall demeanor - her straight posture and piercing gaze.
So what was someone who never touched anything stronger than water doing in the only pub in town? Waiting.
"Sure ya won't have a drink, Miss?" The voice of the bartender broke her concentration, and she turned her attention toward him.
The draik left the window and crossed the room, her leather flip-flops smacking the bottom of her heels as she walked. She took a stool at the counter. "No," she replied coldly, silently repulsed by the very notion of drinking, "Just water".
She made the bartender uncomfortable, but that was nothing new to her; she made most people uncomfortable, sometimes without even trying. Maybe it was the way her unruly, long gray hair was pulled to completely cover the left half of her face, leaving only one dark, crimson eye visible. Or maybe it was the black trench coat she wore over an equally black vest and skirt; or the way the coat was left open to show off her exposed abdomen. Maybe it was the bow and quiver full of arrows that she kept secured on her back. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing a pair of dark gloves inside, and had refused to take them off; or the fact that at all times her tail was curled up in her coat and completely hidden. But if she had to make only one guess, she would say it was probably her overall demeanor - her straight posture and piercing gaze.
So what was someone who never touched anything stronger than water doing in the only pub in town? Waiting.