bar hopping. o

[OPHEI]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:400px; background-color:#f5f5f5; border:1px solid #efefef, bTable][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; background-color:#f0f0f0; font-size:10px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:1px; color:#858585; text-align:justify; padding:20px; margin-bottom:8px]Ophei flicked an ear listening to the droning of the usual bustle of Riften. Merchants shouted out to the public promising them wonderful savings and worthwhile products. But Ophei knew better. She had lived in Riften long enough to know that everyone here was a swindler, capable of coning even the most frugal out of their hard earned septims. She shook her head in amusement at the fresh faces who wandered up the the vendors drawn in by their glamour. The Khajiit shouldered her way through the crowds and into the local inn. The Bee & Barb wasn’t exactly bustling but Keerava seemed to be doing well enough. The Argonian eyed her before offering her a drink. Ophei happily obliged finding nothing wrong with spending a few coins on drinks once and a while. Her personal favorite was Fire Brand Whisky. It was a bit of an oddity this far from richer, more productive cities but Keerava usually had a small supply and Ophei was happy to buy it when it was in town. She ordered one drink and then another, purring as she slurped them down. This was a common past time for the Elsweyr native. A warming sensation slithered down her throat and into her stomach. Ophei leaned back in her chair, she sat at her usual place in a shadowy corner. She smiled to herself as she watched the bars tenants. A wonderful assortment of colorful folks swaggered into Ophei’s haunt on a regular basis and she felt it was necessary to watch and learn about them all, and hopefully in the process make them a little wary of her. Keerava watched her like a hawk and Talen-Jei made point to stare at her as well. They liked to make sure she wasn’t here to steal anything, or extort money from them on behalf of the Guild. They, lately though, had come to realize though that she was more laid back than some of her Guild mates. She would rather sit in her corner, order a few drinks and stake out the prospects before striking, preferably in a dark alleyway in the middle of the night, and not in the middle of a crowded bar. It really wasn’t her style. And of course there was the occasional midnight break in, which she relished. After a third drink the corners of her eyes began to grow fuzzy and she purred in satisfaction, she had finally reached her preferred state of drunkenness. Her blue eyes scanned the crowd, two of the local Nords were having a heated argument over what sounded like a woman. Her ears perked with interest, she really hadn’t watched a fight in what seemed like forever. The Khajiit’s lips curled into a smirk and she watched as insults were thrown across the room, one thing led to another and finally throws were being exchanged. The entire bar seemed to come to life, each individual wanting to place bets on one or the other. Violence always seemed to bring out the worst in people. Finally the younger, more inexperience fighter was tossed out the door. Some erupted into cheers and others muttered to themselves handing over a few coins to the lucky betters. Ophei shook her head laughing, today was a day that she was glad she had come to Skyrim, even though she lived in Riften of all places. [/style][style=width:100px; height:100px; border:1px solid #b7b7b7; background-color:#f5f5f5; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px][/style][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; width:250; height:94px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:5px; margin:2px; overflow:auto] words: 564 tags: open notes: idek Ophei's a little drunkz.[/style] [style=width:368; height:15px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:6px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px]and i never listen to anyone[/style]

[style= font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px]LAIKA of BTN and OTE[/style]

[KAN-ILUAM]

A particularly cold wind blew over her shoulder, blowing her cape up into the air for a few short seconds. Skyrim was such a wonderful land for a vampire, since the resistance to frigid temperatures actually came in handy here. Of course, her Dunmer heritage also gave her other resistances, but they would only come in handy if, let's say, a dragon attacked, but when was that supposed to happen? Scratch that, it's actually quite likely. She lifted her head back to look up at the sky, the dimming sunlight making Sonurain wince visibly, it wouldn't be long until she could feed under the safe cover of night, but it also would not be too much longer until she returned to Riften. She had quickly learned that feeding in the city was a bad idea, as bite marks that one does not remember receiving tend to cause panic - and get a mob together. Sonurain had learned that the hard way, once or twice, but would never admit such foolishness. The people on the outskirts of Riften...they were a much different story. Their blood wasn't particular appetizing, but it kept her from the minor discomfort of starvation.

So she was forced to wait. A hunter had settled down for the night, and as she crept closer, the human's lacking vision saved Sonurain from detection. Her footsteps were silent, pausing briefly as the hunter turned over in his sleep. No horse, no dog, no creature to guard him - what a foolish man this was. Or perhaps he was just very sure of his skills? Perhaps. Sonurain loomed over him, gently maneuvering the sleeping man so she had access to his neck. He wouldn't turn into a vampire, in case you were worried, one can only become a vampire by being the victim of certain attacks by a vampire - namely the drain spell that nearly all vampires know. To this day, Sonurain has never used such an attack on anyone, but she has only been a vampire for a year or two, so this means virtually nothing.

Her mission had been incredibly simple. Sonurain wiped the blood from her lips as she came into view of the Riften guardsmen. It was to plant a ring in the home of a prominent Noble in Whiterun - nothing she could not handle. Still, turning the mission in now would be pointless - the Ragged Flagon would be full of drunkards and Vex would more than likely take her leave for the night, fleeing to a more quiet hole in the sewers. Sonurain had better things to do than to look for the woman like some sort of eager goody-goody, so she slipped quietly into the Bee and Barb. She could not get drunk due to her 'affliction', so she had entered the inn on more of a whim than anything. Keerava nearly hissed in agitation at her, Talen-Jei giving her the near same greeting, and it was only until Sonurain glanced over to the corner that she realized why they were both so cautious.

"Drunk again?" Sonurain let the shadows envelope her as she noiselessly took the seat opposite of Ophei. Though she was not particularly close to any of her Guildmates, she had heard of them and their various accomplishments or habits, and while she had heard good things about the Khajiit, she had also heard of the cat's drinking habit. Was alcoholism a word in Khajiit - or Nordic for that matter - dictionaries? Sonurain cocked an eyebrow, lifting her head up enough to be seen by Ophei, the frown on her face locked in place.

[OPHEI]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:400px; background-color:#f5f5f5; border:1px solid #efefef, bTable][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; background-color:#f0f0f0; font-size:10px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:1px; color:#858585; text-align:justify; padding:20px; margin-bottom:8px] The grey, spotted Khajiit seemed to evaporate and become another face in the crowd as the sun set permanently for the night and the inky blackness of the night sky settled in. At this time the more shadowy, lucid figures entered the bar and Ophei loved to watch their every move. The Bee and Barb had become her most favorite stake out. The meat that came in every night was consistant. The bar was almost like an open wound, new blood seeping onto the old, weathered, stools drinking away their sorrows every night. All of this fresh blood was just ripe with goodies for Ophei to take. Speaking of fresh blood, a particularly dangerous and pale figure entered the bar, the Dunmer elicited an even worse response from Keerava and Talen-Jei than she had. Ophei didn't spend much time at the Flagon, except to drop off a few pieces of coin every now and again for the Guild. She preferred not to sulk around in a sewer, she had been raised in a slum but the smell of Senchel were nothing to the rancid oder that could creep from the ratways. But even Ophei had heard of this somewhat new member of the Guild. She even had to admit that when the vampire joined she had been a little apprehensive, but the Dunmer proved to be an asset and the Khajiit's distaste soon faded. Contrare to Ophei's dislike of the sewers, the elven woman seemed to see them as a safe haven, Ophei smirked at the thought. Of course a vampire would hide in the shadows. A delicate frown jilted the otherwise pretty mers face. Her red eyes pierced through the hazy atmosphere of the bar. Ophei studied her face, trying to decide just how old the elf was. It was something completely facinating to the Khajiit, who had an unfairly short and normal lifespan compared to the mer. Sonurain could have been twenty or she could have been five hundred. But Ophei would have never known, perhaps it was just something she would never be able to understand. She closed her eyes momentarily, trying to gather her thoughts through the thick fog that was enveloping her senses and thoughts, a small giggle gurgled out of her throat, she was unable to hold it in. She let out a little purr. "Jealous?" [/style][style=width:100px; height:100px; border:1px solid #b7b7b7; background-color:#f5f5f5; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px][/style][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; width:250; height:94px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:5px; margin:2px; overflow:auto] words: 398 tags: NATTT notes: i rambled a bit, i do believe 0,0[/style] [style=width:368; height:15px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:6px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px]and i never listen to anyone[/style]

[style= font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px]LAIKA of BTN and OTE[/style]

[KAN-ILUAM]

Thieves talked. A lot. It was one of the few reasons Sonurain knew of Ophei. By Oblivion, the fact that the Guild had let in a vampire had probably streaked across the Hold - adding to her reputation, she supposed? Sonurain was, by non-Guild members, almost never recognized, so she supposed there was no way to test if her reputation was really growing. She preferred that it didn't, lest mobs form in hopes of burning another vampire at the stake. But, at the moment, the Guild was a wonderful hiding place - and had shown her many alternate ways of getting around in Skyrim. Of course, the fact that she didn't have to bloody her hands most likely helped her keep a low profile, murdering people, in her experience, tended to get your name out there a whole lot faster.

In truth, in the back of her mind she knew that her place in the Guild would be temporary. Her own immortality made it hard to stay in one place, since once the years started to go by, someone was bound to notice that she did not age. Assumptions would be made, conclusions would be drawn, and once again a mob would be formed. Has one of Sonurain's deepest fears come up yet? Because it's angry mobs bent on killing her. Original, right? Even a vampire feared death and detection, it was almost ironic. She mused that not only the Guild Master but also Brynjolf knew this - but let it go since she would outlive and out serve them. Or perhaps just the fact that she was a vampire was enough for them, one may never know.

Orphei attempted to contain herself, though due to her colossal level of inebriation...she didn't exactly succeed. Sonurain shook her head slowly, looking away toward Talen-Jei, who was once again eying them in that creepy way of his. "Not at all. I don't miss that swill you call a drink." The Dunmer shifted in her seat, eying the Khajiit curiously. She had never known an Elsweyr native, and had not even seen the ones who travel Skyrim in caravans as Sonurain did the majority of her traveling at night. The prospect of feeding on one seemed...terrible. One bite and you had a mouthful of hair, no thank you.

Sonurain crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. "Has anything transpired since I left?" Usually things were slow and uneventful down in the sewers, but occasionally she was proven wrong. The city above was a much different story though, there was always some scheme happening, and there were times she pitied the honest folk who lived here.

(( Don't worry I rambled too, whoops xD ))