[ We find Nebrinel coming in off the highways and into a small inn; 'The drunken titan', by it's sign. This is an inn and a town where pretty much nothing happens; if a bard comes through once every three years it's considered to be an exciting decade. ] [ This, of course, means they're probably completely unprepared for many of the things that may happen soon, as Fyril happens to be here, too. ] [ Not that Nebby's seen him yet, of course; she's just coming in, covered in dust. There's a strong wind blowing outside that seems to threaten rain, so she's prolly stuck here for a while, too. Session start! ] * Nebrinel brushes her hair back behind her head, again, and murmurs, "It is days like these I think about shorter hair." She scans the common room, and finds a seat. Preferably near where the Innkeeper is. [ Nebrinel succeeds in this endeavor. She gets many looks from the peasantry, who probably assume she's someone rich or important and wonder why she isn't taking a carriage or something. ] * Nebrinel fingers her hair, looks annoyed, and says to the innkeeper, "I would like a room for the night. And a meal." * Nebrinel looks about the room, for paranoia's sake. Because she's just that kind of gal. [ The innkeeper looks up from some math he was (very slowly) doing and says "Oh-oh! Y-yes, of course, m'lady. You shall have our finest room, although I'm afraid it will be terribly humble by your standards. Ah, er, what would you like to eat?" ] * Nebrinel snaps her head back to the man with a pleased grin on her face and says, "Oh, I am sure you know what is good. Nothing fancy." [ The innkeeper works his jaw, and heads to the kitchen to relay whatever order he's come up with. ] * Nebrinel looks very smug and pleased with herself, and leans back very slightly in her chair. Or stool. Or whatever. [ It's more of a bench, really. The inn wasn't built with privacy in mind. ] (Works for me! Bench-leaning!) * Nebrinel goes back to glancing around while she waits. * Fyril comes out of the kitchen a good ten or fifteen minutes later, carrying a large plate with a slab of deer ribs, braised lightly, a selection of vegetables, and a small cup of a clearish red sauce on a plate, along with a mug in the other hand. He looks down at the food as he's coming out critically, seeming a bit dissatisfied, then up around the room for who's supposed to get it. He scans, then blinks a few times. * Nebrinel sits there. She looks distracted, by this point. * Fyril looks around for the innkeeper, doesn't spot him immediately, and so starts walking over to Nebrinel. He lays out the food on the table in front of her quietly, putting the plate nearly silently on the table. * Nebrinel blinks, and takes in the bunch of food. She then looks to scan Fyril's face, give a smile... look confused, and say, "Fyril?" * Fyril nods quietly, and smiles a bit self-consciously. "Yeah. Sorry, the boss didn't really give me a lot of notice, so the ribs may not be exactly what you were expecting. But they'll still be quite good." * Nebrinel still looks a bit stunned, and then chuckles faintly. "I expected a normal cook. I didn't expect you." * Fyril gestures around him, taking in the surroundings. "Yeah, I wouldn't really expect me here, either. The place we had back home was a bit...grander." * Nebrinel shrugs, and picks up the utensils to eat. She then eyes him with a sly grin. "Shouldn't you be working, slacker?" * Fyril sits on the edge of the table. "Don't really see anything that needs taking care of right now. And the boss won't mind me chatting up the clientele." He smiles cutely. "He's probably not comfortable talking with you." * Nebrinel laughs, although not loudly. "Well, if you say so." She starts to eat. * Fyril runs a hand through his hair a bit nervously, and watches her eat curiously. "You're not even going to ask?" ( Oh, by the way, Xivilai wants you dead. How're things going? ) * Nebrinel shrugs halfway through a chew, and swallows. "In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. I admit to being dissapointed and a little worried, but when you didn't turn up, I knew you were long gone." (She doesn't want me dead. Er...I think.) (We'll get to that.) * Fyril shakes his head, and his eyes sparkle a bit as he talks. "Getting away was easy. They need better perimeter defense. You'd think after what I did to the other side, they'd have learned." * Nebrinel chuckles. "Give the poor saps a thousand years or so." Cut, stab, chew. * Fyril looks down at the food. "It turn out well?" * Nebrinel says through the chewing, this time, "Of course it did. You do even better with a kitchen." * Fyril grins widely. "Access to actual tools, and spices, and ingredients!" He nods firmly. "I need to figure out how to take one of those with me when I travel. * Nebrinel gestures absently with a hand. "It's remotely possible, I believe." * Fyril blinks. "You think I could do it?" ( Store it in Nebby's Cleavage of Holding! Safe, convenient, and putting it away after dinner is a convenient segue into foreplay! ) (Your ability to read my mind is truly stunning.) * Nebrinel nods, and then puts some food in her mouth, mumbling, "Well, perhaps. It's not an impossible trick, but the scale's pretty large." Dependsh on what'd ya'd need. * Fyril shrugs, and still smiles. "Don't really need a whole kitchen. I could just pick some things out." ( Oops. I left the oregano in my breasts. Could you... help me find it? *cue cheesy pr0n music* ) (How unsubtle.) * Nebrinel replies, "Of course." She takes a drink, and then sets it down. "I assume you've heard that the war's over, more or less." * Fyril leans back a bit, and looks at her slightly askance. "Yeah. News travels fast." He grins. "We're an inn, after all. Lots of people come through, especially after something like that." He looks off away from her. "Glad you're OK." * Nebrinel says dryly, "It was very close, at the end. But any fight you can be dragged away alive from is better than the alternative." She hacks off another slab of meat, dips, chews. * Fyril blinks, and looks back at her worriedly. "You got hurt that badly?" He bites his lip for a second, then releases it to say, "What happened?" * Nebrinel swallows, and looks not pleased. "Faydra and a very well placed and very nasty attack." She takes another drink. "Bought enough time for Ada to drop her, I suppose." ( What was I, chopped liver? ;_; ) (Yes.) (Did we even SCORE hits on her in Hand to hand?) * Fyril looks concerned. "But it turned out OK for you?" Yeah. No lasting damage. Healers had me up on my feet in no time. ( Yup. First round. ) (Amazing!) ( I spent most of the rest of the time dodging and occupying her attacks while you guys sniped her. =P ) * Fyril nods, and regards her a bit offhand again. "And then you just left?" * Nebrinel shrugs, and starts cutting another piece. She's taken out most of the meat at this point. "Ada wished to remove Ethan's curse. I did not feel like going across the Ironwall with this body, and had other things to do than track down a human witch." (Humans: Yeah, that seven foot tall woman can't possibly be an elf.) (You could wear a big human costume. =P) * Fyril shakes his head, and looks down at the food quickly back up at Nebrinel. "OK... and there's nothing else big that happened?" ( "Sei's boinking Xivilai." "... WHAT?!" "... gotcha." ) (What makes you think I wouldn't believe that? =P) * Nebrinel takes the last piece of meat, and eats it. "I guess not, no. Faydra's gone for good, according to Xivilai, I have a list of weapon pieces to acquire, Ada, Ethan, and Sei seemed mostly happy... and you... well." She gestures at the nearly nonexistant meal before her. ( "Sei's boinking Xivilai." "Already?" ) (Exactly.) * Fyril blinks down at the plate, and then back up at Nebrinel's face before looking a bit off to the side of her. "Me? Well?" He shakes his head. "I don't get it." ( "Morganti Condoms: For Sex with SOUL!" ) * Nebrinel shrugs. "You are here. There's not much I can tell you about you being here." She looks at him a little amused. (God, that's a weird image. ^^;) * Fyril blinks, then shakes his head rapidly. "This's where I ended up after I ran away, that's all. I needed somewhere to lay low in for a while, and they needed help. That's not what I meant, anyway." * Nebrinel mms. "I am not sure what you did mean, then. You mentioned travel, so I assumed you wouldn't be staying here." * Fyril blinks, and actually focuses on her. "I don't think I will be." He runs a hand through his hair, pressing at the spikes a bit. "Just... are we not friends anymore? You sound like you don't even care." * Nebrinel looks at Fyril, and sighs, turning a bit. "Fyril... you left the war, you got out. Good for you. You had also spent the previous weeks being... shall I say, skittish. In all honesty, the question turns to you. I tell you things about my life I tell nobody, I attempt to teach you the things I have learned, and you leave in the night." * Nebrinel smirks. "Honestly, how do you act when you gain a few hundred years on a boyfriend, eh?" * Fyril blinks, and scoots a bit on the table to center himself back in her field of vision. "I had to leave. They weren't going to stop putting me in there, and my luck would have run out sooner or later. And..." He blushes, and looks down. * Nebrinel mms. "I don't begrudge you the leaving. It was probably the right thing to do." * Fyril forces himself to look back up. "And can you blame me for being skittish? You're..." He trails off, and shakes his head quickly before looking back fiercely. "You can't pretend nothing changed after you changed. The relationship can't be the same as it was, now." * Nebrinel smiles faintly. "No, probably not. A pity, but..." she looks down, and then back up. "It's almost ironic, in ways." She purses her lips. * Fyril blinks. "Ironic? Don't really see why." Did you think changing back would make me like you more? That would make it ironic. * Nebrinel snickers. "It would, if I were fool enough to think that." She mms. "It doesn't matter." * Fyril leans forward a bit. "But that doesn't mean that I don't still like you. You're still someone I want to be friends with." He blushes a bit again. "If you'll let me." * Nebrinel laughs. This time, loudly. "If my last thoughts smacked of irony, these are drenched in it." The laughter dies down, and she nods with a grin. "Alright, then, Fyril. Friends it is." (Nebby just got the let's be friends speech from a 120 year old kid. She would be roaring in the aisles on any other day.) (He's not even that old, dear. =P) (Tough to remember. 100 or so, then.) * Fyril nods happily. "Good!" His eyes sparkle. "Maybe you can try again in a couple hundred years, see where you get then." * Nebrinel smirks. "You are quite the funny man today, Fyril." She looks at the decimated meal, and grins wryly. "So, if we're friends now, would you be interested in hearing about a few suckers I have to steal some precious magical items from?" * Fyril hops off the table, and grins cutely. "What do you think?" * Nebrinel smirks. "I think you can come to my room when you get off work, and we can talk it over. I have to wash this dust out of my hair." She makes a face. (At least it's not tomato sauce. ^^) (You and your tomato sauce.) * Fyril nods, and essays a quick bow. "As you will, m'lady." He straightens with a mischievous smirk on his face, and heads off back towards the kitchen. * Nebrinel shakes her head, in a 'what will I ever do with you?' manner, and stands, to retrieve her room key, go to her room, and get the dust out of her hair. [SESSION END!]