Post by Steinerman on Jan 28, 2013 22:24:08 GMT -5
"Thwap thwap thwap thwap" The sound echoed through the darkening streets as the night came to claim its due once more upon the floating city of Voya.
"Thwap thwap thwap" the sound of boots colliding roughly with metallic streets, the noise ever-quickening, aided in its song only by the jagged breathing of three figures.
Marnie Majeec ran at a steady pace, making sure to take the lead, else the other two would slow down to protect her. Say what you wanted, but she was the Ring Mistress, and that meant they protected her. The sound of their pursuers faded as the sailors, more accustomed to ship-life than streets, lagged behind.
Up ahead, its spires lifting defiantly into the face of the falling sun, was the building the Majeec carnivale had come to call home. Once it must have been a middling cathedral, or a pretentious library with dreams of grandeur. Now it served as home to Marnie and her crew. A constant drain on their dwindling cash reserves, but a place to lay their heads, and worn-down and ominous enough that the city-folk weren't fond of coming near it.
She and her running companions reached the wide arching doors and burst through, closing them quickly and resting their backs against them, all breathing heavily. Marnie closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, her body reminding her of the pulsing cut above her eye, and the multiple bruises along her body. Bar fights rarely left a participant untouched, and she had been no exception.
"Eyeah, 'nother day in paradise, this was." She quipped wearily, removing her hat and inspecting it for damage as a mother might a child, dusting off flecks of wood and trying to dab out the beer and blood stains from where the big Sailor had tried to slam her head into the beer keg.
"Next time ye feel the urge to pick a fight, don do it with a bunch 'o sailors fresh of the boats, boyos." She added on a moment later, pushing away from the door and heading into the cheery interior, she had to get her cuts and scrapes cleaned up. Sickness was not something she could afford, at the moment.
"Thwap thwap thwap" the sound of boots colliding roughly with metallic streets, the noise ever-quickening, aided in its song only by the jagged breathing of three figures.
Marnie Majeec ran at a steady pace, making sure to take the lead, else the other two would slow down to protect her. Say what you wanted, but she was the Ring Mistress, and that meant they protected her. The sound of their pursuers faded as the sailors, more accustomed to ship-life than streets, lagged behind.
Up ahead, its spires lifting defiantly into the face of the falling sun, was the building the Majeec carnivale had come to call home. Once it must have been a middling cathedral, or a pretentious library with dreams of grandeur. Now it served as home to Marnie and her crew. A constant drain on their dwindling cash reserves, but a place to lay their heads, and worn-down and ominous enough that the city-folk weren't fond of coming near it.
She and her running companions reached the wide arching doors and burst through, closing them quickly and resting their backs against them, all breathing heavily. Marnie closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, her body reminding her of the pulsing cut above her eye, and the multiple bruises along her body. Bar fights rarely left a participant untouched, and she had been no exception.
"Eyeah, 'nother day in paradise, this was." She quipped wearily, removing her hat and inspecting it for damage as a mother might a child, dusting off flecks of wood and trying to dab out the beer and blood stains from where the big Sailor had tried to slam her head into the beer keg.
"Next time ye feel the urge to pick a fight, don do it with a bunch 'o sailors fresh of the boats, boyos." She added on a moment later, pushing away from the door and heading into the cheery interior, she had to get her cuts and scrapes cleaned up. Sickness was not something she could afford, at the moment.