The door to the Rusty Tankard swung open with a theatrical creak that Felix quite liked. A touch of drama set the tone, and tone, after all, was everything. He paused briefly in the doorway, the cold wind at his back stirring his long coat, and took in the room with the kind of smile that suggested he was delighted to be here but might not stay long.
A roaring fire dominated the far wall, throwing flickering light across a room that was almost too dingy to be charming. A few drinkers huddled in shadowed corners, their murmured conversations drowned out by the slap of cards and the occasional bark of laughter from a group in the center. Perfect. Just enough noise for anonymity but not so much that he’d miss the tread of boots if they came looking for him.
He sauntered up to the bar, leaning casually on the worn wood.
The barkeep grunted and poured something amber into a glass. Felix raised it in a silent toast to no one in particular before taking a careful sip. It burned just enough to suggest it might not have been entirely legal. Excellent.
Drink in hand, he scanned the room again, his eyes quickly cataloging exits. The main door, naturally, and a back entrance near the kitchen that would serve in a pinch. The narrow staircase leading to the upper floors might work if he needed to delay pursuit—most people didn’t like chasing a man upstairs, especially one with Felix’s knack for throwing furniture in his wake.
He selected a table near the fire, far enough to avoid unwanted scrutiny but close enough to look like he belonged. The chair he chose faced the room, with a clear view of all the exits and enough space behind him to ensure no one could sneak up unnoticed. He slid into the seat with an ease that belied the tension coiled beneath his genial demeanor. Felix was a man who always, always planned for things to go south.
Now all he had to do was wait for Maika. He’d seen her once, briefly, and only in the context of learning how much she hated to be kept waiting. Still, it was part of the dance, wasn’t it? Make her a little irritated, a little off balance.
The drink warmed him from the inside, a pleasant contrast to the chill that had settled into his bones. He leaned back slightly, the picture of a man without a care in the world, and waited.
@Maika Arainai
A roaring fire dominated the far wall, throwing flickering light across a room that was almost too dingy to be charming. A few drinkers huddled in shadowed corners, their murmured conversations drowned out by the slap of cards and the occasional bark of laughter from a group in the center. Perfect. Just enough noise for anonymity but not so much that he’d miss the tread of boots if they came looking for him.
He sauntered up to the bar, leaning casually on the worn wood.
Something warming, good barkeep,he said, sliding a coin across the counter. It gleamed briefly before disappearing into the barkeep’s practiced hands.
Something that suggests both refinement and affordability, if you’d be so kind.
The barkeep grunted and poured something amber into a glass. Felix raised it in a silent toast to no one in particular before taking a careful sip. It burned just enough to suggest it might not have been entirely legal. Excellent.
Drink in hand, he scanned the room again, his eyes quickly cataloging exits. The main door, naturally, and a back entrance near the kitchen that would serve in a pinch. The narrow staircase leading to the upper floors might work if he needed to delay pursuit—most people didn’t like chasing a man upstairs, especially one with Felix’s knack for throwing furniture in his wake.
He selected a table near the fire, far enough to avoid unwanted scrutiny but close enough to look like he belonged. The chair he chose faced the room, with a clear view of all the exits and enough space behind him to ensure no one could sneak up unnoticed. He slid into the seat with an ease that belied the tension coiled beneath his genial demeanor. Felix was a man who always, always planned for things to go south.
Now all he had to do was wait for Maika. He’d seen her once, briefly, and only in the context of learning how much she hated to be kept waiting. Still, it was part of the dance, wasn’t it? Make her a little irritated, a little off balance.
The drink warmed him from the inside, a pleasant contrast to the chill that had settled into his bones. He leaned back slightly, the picture of a man without a care in the world, and waited.
@Maika Arainai
01-04-2025, 08:48 AM