James Buchanan Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lefthandfree) wrote2016-07-16 07:08 pm
lefthandfree) wrote2016-07-16 07:08 pm
[meme] open post / picture prompt catch-all
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What Bucky will overhear is talk of the movements of knights headed toward Draichurith, and the storm brewing that could bring war. But he will also overhear more sightings of 'Flaws' in the streets, a gaggle of them that are bringing trouble where they go. People like Bucky and Alysia. The men never openly acknowledge either one of them being in the tavern, thankfully, but no knight is there for drinks this night. They are lucky.
The crowd mostly likes 'Sorcha', the bard alias she's been using in taverns, a woman with hair tightly wound up to give the appearance of her hair being shorter, even curled, than how Alysia wears hers. Little things that give Sorcha an identity beyond Alysia, something that will make her memorable and untraceable back to the real woman behind the mask. She's given quite a few coppers throughout the night, deposited in the pouch she leaves out. A group of two men eye it often and Bucky will notice that it's become obvious that they're contemplating making a move to grab it before 'Sorcha' goes home for the evening. ]
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At his convenience, he smears some grease from the underside of the table onto his face to add to the disguise and mumbles idly to himself as if he were somewhat mad. For all intents and purposes, the camouflage works, the usual workers at the tavern not paying the slightest attention to this side of the room as usual. It’s no wonder these guys picked a table here.
While he does take some time to enjoy Sorcha’s performance, his attention is mostly on the table next to his. In the end, it’s good that Sorcha—or whatever her real name is—noticed them because there’s a fair bit to take away from what he hears. He shelves it for later as he tends to do and plays his part, thumping his hand or tankard from time to time as if drunkenly enjoying the entertainment and whistling in approval at the closing of a few random songs. But then the show is nearly over, and he sees the theft being plotted.
Rattling the tankard, which he’d been carefully spilling about him rather than drinking from, he wobbles to his feet and mumbles about the pretty lute girl deserving the last of his coin, making his way over toward the pouch. When he’s within range, he stumbles and knocks heavily into one of the men while emptying most of the contents of the rest of his tankard on the other. He blithers woefully at his mistake, how his gammy legs don’t do well these days, and pleads and blubbers until the two are repulsed into departing.
Once he’s certain they’ve gone, he totters over anxiously to the pouch, as if perhaps ashamed of his existence as a disabled beggar again, and shakily drops a coin in before huddling away like his presence would offend any others. The withdrawn behavior keeps onlookers from staring too long, and he makes it out the back door without a second glance from anyone.
Given that he used the rest of his cover to take care of that little situation, he knows better than to head back in. Not until people forget the scene that happened tonight. Likely it could take a while, but it hardly mattered for Bucky. A tavern was a tavern was a tavern. At least he could help Sorcha out this time.
Whenever she finally heads out the back, she’ll find him leaning against the wall, waiting for her patiently with grime still smudged on his face and his clothes still rumpled.]
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His performance, at the last, surprises even her. It ensures that no one watching them could ever assume they work together at times, that any of this might have been planned. Her eyes are wide as he stumbles with the drink and even gives her a coin, and a few people look uncomfortable at the gesture. Once he leaves, she garners a few extra coppers, even a silver, as if in some terrible recompense for the display such a fine lady had to witness.
It's grotesque, really. She'd take the silver and shove it down the woman's throat if she didn't wish to cause a scene. It will go to a beggar child later. Alysia wants nothing to do with a noble's charity.
When all is said and done, she leaves through the front and circles around the back through the mill of people leaving to escape the rain. Thunder rumbles in the distance, certain to be troublesome later. She finds Bucky easily enough. ]
That was quite a show. What brought all of that on?
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Like it, did you? Those punks were eyein’ your coin pouch. Figured I’d stop ’em before they did anything stupid. [Especially since it would have likely blown both of their covers as he had no intention of letting people rob his ally blind, even if Sorcha could have handled it on their own.
Reaching up, he scrubs away at some of the filth on his face using rainwater he caught in his hand and stands forward from the wall. With all pretenses now finished, he also fixes the part in his hair that he'd mussed away entirely earlier.]
Can’t be back here for a while though. Not that their ale was much to come for anyway. [The notion obviously doesn’t bother him even a little.]
Are y’ all set?
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[ The two at the table. She'd seen them and they'd been eyeing her, but she hadn't thought... Well, he's done her a kind turn. So much for not wanting to be indebted to anyone. Alysia shakes her head with incredulity but there is a faint smile on her lips. He's skilled. She can't deny it. ]
We'll find somewhere else for you to go. There are finer establishments that will serve you better ale or rum, if it pleases you. Say the word, and I can find them.
[ She's kept out of the richer sectors for the moment until her fame grows a bit more. The last thing she'd like is to be removed from a tavern before she even has a chance to play. With a glance up at the sky, she nods. ]
If you are. Come, let's go.
[ The rain doesn't particularly bother her but she'd like to keep her dress neat. She avoids the back alleys where she might dirty the hem of her skirt, taking him the quickest route she knows. Her hovel is just that: a flat with two rooms interconnected, partitioned off by a partial wall that obscures the shallow tub she's been given. It's a cheap room but she's made it as cozy as possible with proper blankets and a few candles for lighting, some incense by the window to burn and keep the flat smelling nice. How she manages to carry all of these items around is unknown (she actually has an enchanted bag that stores anything that can fit in it) but it's allowed for small luxuries even when she has little coin. Alysia allows Bucky inside and sets about to lighting the lanterns and candles to bring light into the flat. She also pulls out the bottle of wine she's been keeping and two glasses - the latter of which she's been given by those she rents from. ]
I can get us food from across the street, something simple. Do you have any particular requests?
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[He says it casually and even throws in a wink for good measure, but they both know it’s as false as the spectacle he’d put on just now. It wasn’t really worth discussing anyway, so he lets the matter drop afterward and follows Sorcha as she leads on.
When she let’s him inside her living quarters, he scans it instinctively, as he had been taught, and makes mental notes to himself while playing curious, even though he genuinely is as just about everything that mattered about Sorcha is still a secret to him even now. He smiles at the sight of the wine bottle and glasses.]
Whatever you like best’ll be fine. I’m not too picky.
[Which was true even before the war, given what he and Steve had needed to give up to survive the Depression.]
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[ If it was about liquor, that'd be another story. She can't afford anything very expensive or refined and the wine came as payment from another tavern she played at about a week ago. She can't get much else. ]
They have stews, soups, cheese. They have some bread and certain cuts of meat. I have enough for something for each of us.
[ And she's not going to hear any argument about paying for his share. He ensured she didn't lose her coin purse tonight. That's enough. ]
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Don’t suppose they’d have— [Shit on a shingle? She wouldn’t recognize the phrase.] —sausage and gravy? To go on bread.
[He hopes it’s clear enough what he means. Even if it’s not, he can make do with whatever else there is. The thought of something comfortable and familiar is just nice, really. Though he also doesn’t bother pointing out he eats for three people. She’s good enough to offer even if only because he probably saved her earnings for the night, and it isn't worth taking advantage of that for a full stomach. It'd be damn rude.]
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I'll have a look and see what I can find. Make yourself comfortable.
[ Alysia ducks out with little preamble, heading across the street. Since finding her place in the city, she's done her best to go out of her way to be nice to a few of the locals who could aid her, and the neighboring restaurant is no different. She's played there twice - once for free - and they are pleased to give her food. Much of it will go out tonight anyway without use. She sits around a little longer for fresh gravy and purchases a whole loaf of bread and some cheese as well. She gets some eggs for herself, sausage for him, and is back a little over twenty minutes later with two bowls of hot food, bread, and cheese.
She brings both to the table and sets them out, then goes to continue making preparations around the room for the potential oncoming storm, closing the shutters and moving candles from their places. The lantern goes closer to the table so they can eat; the candles are moved from the windows and placed in better positions to bring light to the flat. ]
Here. They had what you wanted but didn't quite know how you might like it prepared.
[ Alysia gets out a few knives and two forks, and sets about slicing the bread. ]