The Dragon's Head Tavern and Inn, Vorland, 1437 ATC
The barmaid known as Brea Rowland hummed a familiar tune as she climbed the stairs from the kitchen. In her hands was an overfilled tray of molasses cookies, sweet, spicy, and soft. She had them stacked in a cone-like fashion, with one single cookie on top at the point of this edible pyramid. "Good evening, Venser." She greeted with a slight bow of the head as she placed her cookie tray down at the end of the bar. By the time she had said hello to her boss, the whole upper balcony smelled like cookies.
A cardboard cutout behind the bar greeted Kerri with the same arrogant, somewhat sinister smile on it's face, amplified by the glasgow smile his face that ran from ear to ear. His clean shaven, younger self. Made about when he was twenty six. And a look he tried to distance himself further and further from these days. Growing the beard not only out of depression, but to hide the scars. And even meeting his new loves along with everything, he just decided to keep it.
For some reason, today, Venser looked a little unnerving. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was because she had been in that kitchen for a while. "Cookie?" She said, picking the topmost cookie off of the stack and handing it to her boss.
''Why the fuck are you offering a cookie to a cutout?'' The bearded man himself asked sitting at a nearby table, slumped in his seat, bone white guitar on his lap as he plucked the strings. ''Fucking thing.'' He mumbled to himself tuning it. ''I don't know what's real anymoreeeeeeee. Oh ho ho... But there's you, and there's me. Our souls are written in destiny. How can I, disagreeeeee? Moon kissed skin, soft as silk, your arms, their holding me gently. Our love is written in the stars, don't deny who you areeeeeeeeeee. Oop!'' He knocked over an empty cider bottle he had set near his feet. Venser just stared blankly out the window watching the snow fall, with a lit cannabis cigar in one hand and a bottle of cider in the other. It had been a long fall, as well as winter, and it was only one day into the new year.
Brea jumped, dropping the cookie onto the floor, letting it explode into crumbs. "Oh, I-I'm sorry sir. In my rush, I assumed it was you. It's... Very convincing.'' She said looking closely to the odd, flat material, picking up a new cookie and bringing it to the living and breathing Venser. "Are you alright sir?" The sandy blonde asked tentatively as she approached.
Venser let out a grunt of affirmation raising his cigar to his mouth, inhaling a good puff before exhaling out smoke, then took a heavy swig from his bottle of cider right after. ''Blood soaked bandages over meeee. Covering my foolish heart. Cuts so deep I see into my soulllllll… Howlolol!'' He set the cigar down on an ashtray on the table and let out a sigh, looking down at the table rather than his fellow employee, a pretty looking thing with big light brown eyes and shoulder length sandy blonde hair.
Brea blinked, then walked up to him and placed the cookie to his left on the windowsill. "Quite a warbler, we have here." She said, mentioning he continued to sing. "Quite a topic of choice, too."
''What are you even talking about, Brea?'' Venser asked annoyed.
"The singing." She continued, pushing past his acerbic tone. "It's about some deep shit, in lay man's terms."
Venser finally broke his gaze from the rain and the storm to crane his head over to the barmaid, plucking a string or two gently before stopping. ''Yeah. Yeah..'' He sighed and after that one word, returned his gaze back outside. ''Tell me, how would you like to own a bakery of your own? It seems... I know how much you love to bake, and how much our customers love your treats.''
The barmaid turned away and started walking to a table. "I'm not sure. It sounds like a lot of business, which I don't quite understand yet." She said, tugging a chair out from an empty table. "I've learned a lot from selling my pastries on the side, and from shadowing you, Kira, and Thorn." She continued, setting the chair beside his, but a comfortable distance apart. "But I don't know if I'm fully confident in starting my own business." Brea grabbed a tankard, filled it with cider, and sat down in the free seat she had made beside Venser.
''Well, if you decide to open a bakery, I'm willing to invest my coin into it.'' Venser said taking a puff of his cigar, followed by a drink of cider. ''After I buy the farm, I'm sure I'll have some money on the side to spare. Ya know, being an entertainer and a stripper on the side. Along with working here and collecting more and more bounties all over the continent. So yeah. Name your price.''
Brea would blink her light brown eyes and look up from her first sip of cider. “Well, thank you sir. That’s certainly generous. But I think I am rather comfortable where I am right now. I don’t need to risk what little I have going for me.” She said with a disheartened chuckle. Soon, she found herself silent and looking out the window as well.
''And how could you risk it when I'm the one investing my own hard earned coin?'' Venser asked still looking away from Brea. He shook his head and sighed. ''I remember a time where before I got my powers I was a thespian just trying to scrape by and make ends meet. Not the case anymore.''
"Well, that's good." She said, trying to be supportive, but happy to be clear of the bakery debacle. "It's always nice not having to wonder how you'll eat next."
''And if you can pay rent, and maybe move to a better neighborhood, maybe even actually have a house of your own.'' Venser said holding up the cigar he held in his left hand. ''Cullero cigars. The best, and probably one of the most expensive you can buy in the Isles. And I can pretty much buy them whenever I want. I think... If I get the farm...''
"Do you want me to leave?" She asked, sipping on her cider. For a rather important question, she found herself asking it with the same intensity as a question such as "Apple juice or coffee?" It surprised her, but she didn't show it. Instead, she sipped at her cider.
Venser silently shrugged and set his cigar down on an ashtray in the window seal, and set down his bottle too before he turned around.''I've been alone for a while. I'm not too sure, honestly.''
Brea nodded as she drank the last of her cider, standing up once the tankard had been emptied. “Well, thank you for the notice. I’ll start looking around at different properties tomorrow.” She said with a half-smile, tugging the wooden chair back to the table. Once it had been placed back in it’s original resting position, she returned to her usual spot behind the bar. ''So, are you gonna tell me what's wrong?''
''No. It's just... It's just funny how things can just... End. Go sour, just like that. One day they are here, the next...'' A snap of his fingers.
The bearded man let out a sharp, frustrated sigh and stood up, grabbing his guitar and storming off. He flicked his left hand and his marked flashed greenish white, sending a gust of powerful wind at a table and some chairs. They smashed against the floor and the wooden railing, splinters fell over it and some tumbled down the stairs noisily as Venser disappeared down the hall.
The wind whipped her hair about her soft face, stinging her neck and her cheeks. Once it was all said and done, Brea poured herself another mug of cider, and leaned against the back shelf, looking down the hallway in concern. "'Blood soaked bandages over me." She sang quietly to herself. "Covering my foolish heart..." She trailed off, forgetting the rest of the words.
