Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jet Devereux

"An orc?" Jet raised her eyebrows but otherwise managed to restrain her curiosity. She had never heard of orcs before, not even in the books she had read. She wondered if they were like fairies, or if they were trolls. It didn't really matter. "You picked those off a dead one? No wonder I haven't been able to find any. I've never seen a dead thing in my life! Well, not a dead thing wearing armour. I've seen plenty of dead horses and sheep and things."

The arrival of the food for the other girl made Jet feel uncomfortable. She was used to two things: eating alone in her little tower room, or, occasionally with her sister. They never shared their meals with others, not even at parties, because their uncle had never allowed it. Women should not eat in public. But now she watched the other woman eat, without any interest in anybody around her, Jet decided that this rule was stupid and she was hungry.

She called over to a member of staff that she wanted coffee. And bread. She grinned, her pale skin making her teeth look almost yellow.

"Anyway, I'm from Highwater. But you've probably never heard of it. And I doubt I've heard of where you're from either, by the looks of things." Jet wondered if she could try on the chest plate, but didn't ask yet. That could wait a little longer.

“Your break is over, dipshit. Get back out there. We’re getting busy.”

He flinched at his manager’s tone and looked up just in time to see the back of her head before she slammed the office door behind her. Naturally she would retreat into her office the second her own establishment started getting customers. He sighed and stood up and stretched himself with a laboured yawn before checking himself in the glass reflection of the office door to make sure the stint on the couch hadn’t overly messed his uniform.

Pressed pants and pressed casual dress shirt, both black, and a half-loosened tie, all as clean and sharp as they had looked when he came back here fifteen minutes ago. He quickly ran a hand through his short blonde hair to tame any strands disturbed by his stint on the couch and straightened his tie before turning and heading for the door. It was best to give a good first impression in a place like this.

Pushing open the door, it took him a few seconds to evaluation the new patronage.

Bloodied warrior-woman with fine-tipped ears of an obviously fantastical nature. Not human. A second woman in a skin-tight black jumpsuit with two scimitars sheathed at her hips. Potentially human. A third woman in a dress without any weapons to speak of. Hopefully … human?

His cheeks flushing slightly with the resignation that the majority of his newest customers were armed and had clearly seen a battle—or in the case of the elven woman, bathed in one—he approached his coworker behind the bar and tipped him on the shoulder to alleviate him. “Time for your coffee,” he said warmly, nodding the slightly-flustered looking man towards the back room.

“Thanks, Matthias. The table over there wants their drinks and food. I’ve got it mostly finished already. You just have to bring it over.”

“Will do. Take it easy, all right? The boss is in a bad mood.” Matthias set to work finishing up what his coworker had started as the other man gave him a warm smile and booked it for the back room. He deftly arranged the cups of coffee and the sliced bread on a tray and tipped the whole order off with a garnish of minted chocolates for good impression.

Here goes nothing.

Steeling himself for the inevitable culture clash every time he experienced new patrons, he headed over to the table, carefully avoiding staring at the steely glint of the various weapons the two women had brought with them. “Your order, ladies?” he said warmly, attempting to set the tray down at the center of the table only to find the area partially obstructed by the bloodied breastplate.

Fantastic.

“I’m not sure who ordered what, unfortunately. My other workmate just took his break. I’m Matthias, and I’ll be at your service for the next hour. Was there anything else I could get for any of you?”

Svana
See signature for reference

A staff member approached with a tray, interrupting the conversation to introduce himself. He was a pretty young human, probably only a handful of years in age. She eyed him with blatant appreciation, her blood still hot from battle. A pretty little thing like him looked positively delicious.

She handed him her cup of...whatever the strong, bitter, black drink was. "This tastes like piss. If I'm going to drink, it might as well have some bite to it. You got ale? Whiskey? Any kind of real beverage back there?" she asked curtly, eyebrows raised.

The girl she conversed with reveled over her bloodstained armor excitedly, yammering about her small experience with weaponry. She took out one of her tomahawks, passing it over. "I'm not much for swords myself. I've been meaning to find bigger ax to wield, but I'll always prefer those. And I was in...well, it was more of a massacre, really. I'll be embarrassed if any of my people end up dead." A bunch of terrified dwarven farmers pissing in their pants didn't pose much of a challenge.

Jet Devereux

Jet loved the way that Svana spoke. It was up front and honest, just like her. She took the tomahawk and stared at it with obvious awe. It was a good weight in her hands and she felt as though this was what she had been missing. If only she had use for something like this in her daily life. She placed the weapon carefully on the table, resting one hand on it, and sipped her coffee with the other.

"Smaller weapons are more precise, I guess," Jet said. "Although I wouldn't know. It looks like you know well how to wield such things."

Jet watched another man enter, and she followed him with her gaze. It was nice to see the place busy, but she was almost disappointed that she couldn't watch everything that happened. She wanted to learn about it all.

"You said massacre," she said distractedly. "What happened?"

((Yay emme!))

Anna Gale EDIT (( I suppose my Character kind of looks like this )) but with gray eyes.

Anna finished her food and perked up at the mention of a massacre, and took notice of the handsome young server. This surely was something worth paying attention to. She smiled at the woman in the dress who was so fascinated by the little axe. Clearly she also liked to push the boundaries of what was 'acceptable' behavior of a woman, and Anna held women like that in the utmost regard.

As to not alarm Svana, Anna drew one of her scimitars out of its sheath very slowly. It was a shiny, black, pretty thing and incredibly light to wield. Despite its appearance, it was also the strongest metal known to the lands of Alysia. Anna placed the scimitar on the table, which was now cluttered with all sorts of objects. "If you are so interested in swordsmanship, perhaps one day I can give you a lesson," she told the curious woman in the dress.

Then she turned to address Svana. "What could the dwarves have done that could upset you to such a point as to massacre them?"

Before he could even make his way to the corner table he'd eyed, a young man had stepped away from the group of women and blocked his path. Mingan crossed his arms as he watched the kid give him a little bow.

Mingan couldn't help but chuckle. This scrawny fair haired boy took his job a little too seriously. "A beer would be good, something dark, preferably," Mingan responded to the the waiter-boy's offer after the initial pleasantries. He reached out and gave the kid a clap on the shoulder. "And a steak. You do have steak, right? Bloody."

He glanced back at the women, having felt the gaze of the more bubbly of them on him as he'd entered and nodded at her before turning his attention back to the serving boy.

"Thanks, kid," he added, and decided to take up a table a little closer to the women. If nothing else, they should provide some entertainment. Especially now that they were doling out weapons like candy.

((egh, working on a Mingan reference pic. Got nothing good of him! : Hopefully I can keep up with you guys!))

Svana
See signature for reference

Jet had the nativity of the young. It was almost a shame to break it, but life was hard like that sometimes. Svana wasn't about to sugarcoat it for her. There were obviously others in her life doing a good job with that already, if she didn't know the basic functions of war. Soldiers were not the only people killed when two sides clashed. Anyone in the way, everyone in the middle, all of the innocents were fair game. A hard reality, but a reality nonetheless. Whether Svana relished it or not, this was a part of her job.

"They don't, actually, deserve it," she told her blandly. "They're innocents. Farmers. Ranchers. Probably never saw a weapon in their life. It's a tough spot to be in for them, because we can't have them running off to warn the rest of their people that we're razing the area. To be honest, killing them, silencing them, is the easiest part of this war we'll do. They can't fight back."

Anna Gale
Gray eyes, curly black hair, fair skin.

Anna had not noticed the dark man entering the room, but as he sat down near by she shifted into a more defensive stance. She did not like men, and did not appreciate his proximity to her and her new acquaintances. A server was one thing, but this man was something much more threatening. At a time like this she wished she had the comfort of being able to see Sascha, her blood red dragon.

"You can take it for a little spin if you wish. It is a fine blade forged from a metal found only deep in the root of the mountains from my homeland, and was taken to the belly of one of the volcanoes where it the metal was molded and purified," Anna explained, noticing the envious glance directed at her blade. "As for war," she smiled wickedly, "It is ugly but it does have its splendors."