| A Little Somethin' Somethin' |
| Summary: | Pip happens across Ser Jarod in a fancy bar at Stonebridge. He's got somethin' on 'is face! |
| Date: | 29/September/288 |
| Related Logs: | Jaremy disappearance logs. |
| Players: |
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| Crane's Crossing Inn, Stonebridge |
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| While Crane's Crossing is technically an Inn, it caters to the traveling nobility almost exclusively. The floors around the hearth are finely crafted stonework, as are the slate blocks that the firepit is constructed of. The rest of the floor is done in stained oak that matches the few long tables and the chairs. The rest of the main room is furnished with plush couches and seating to entice visitors to delay their leave. A full service kitchen provides food of all kinds as well as high quality ales and wines. Also available are several women to provide hospitality to the lonely or those in need, the quality of them to be beaten by but a few in the Riverlands. A hallway near the kitchen leads off to the rear of the building and several up-scale rooms. |
| 29 September, 288 |
Well, strike her down and paint her purple, but as the evening wears on it's the doors to the Crane's Crossing that Pippa swings open to pass through. "Ayyyy," she mumbles, sending a quick glance about the rather fancy-looking place, possibly trying to place someone? Her brows furrow a little as she peers, blocking the doorway, and she frowns, reaching up to rake a hand through the masses of her untamed bright orange curls. Inside, a bevy of patrons are drinking and eating and conversing, the atmosphere a little less raw than the Rockcliff, something of polish rubbing off - probably from all those rich snobs who drink the pricey ales here.
Jarod is indulging in one of the pricey ales, along with a stew of some kind, at a table by the firepit. With his castle-forged sword and well-made (if not particularly fancy) clothing he fits in tolerably as a knight taking a comfortable room while on the road. He's neglected to shave for a few days, so he's sporting some scruff that's the beginnings of a beard. It suits him extremely poorly. He's alone at present, frowning some into the fire as he drinks.
Pip edges a few more steps inside, mostly because there's a man come in behind her who's clearing his throat and makin' a fuss about not being able to get in the door past her. He's rather rotund, and the little redhead mutters something under her breath about the size of his… belly, afore her eyes do alight on Ser Jarod. Or… is that Ser Jarod? She cocks her head as she ponders, openly staring in puzzlement at the lad and his scruffy beard as she starts over thataways.
Jarod feels someone staring at him, perhaps, and turns in Pippa's direction. The sight of the redhead makes him smile, and raise a hand to wave to her. "Why Mistress Pip, as I live and breathe. Come over here and join me for a pint. What're you looking at? Never seen a man drink before?"
Ack! It is Ser Jarod! Pippa's smile spreads wide before crinkling into a bit of a smirk, and she waves back and picks up her steps to carry her over a little faster. Is that a bit of a skip to her gait? "Ser Jarod Rivers," she says, scratching with her pointer finger at the side of her face cheekily. "You got a lil' somethin' somethin', ay?"
"Miss Pippa Sears." Jarod flashes her a boyish grin, albeit one that doesn't quite reach his green eyes. The Terrick bastard is in a pensive mood tonight. And he's not even drunk yet. He waves over a leggy serving maid. "Bring another pint for my pretty friend here, will you, sweetling?" He motions for Pippa to sit, though her comment just makes him blink, perplexed. He scratches at one poorly bearded cheek. "Something? What? What're you on about?"
Pippa does sit, she plonks her little derriere right on down next to Jarod, wriggling it against the seat some to get herself all comfy. The serving girl earns herself a quick smile, but it's the Ser by her that Pip zones in on, making a show of squinting at the one side of his face. "Somethin' on yer face, ay? Here," she says, beckoning him lean to her with a hand gesture that she might rub her thumb stubbornly at that shadow of a beard.
Jarod leans forward obligingly, if in great puzzlement, so Pippa can try and clean off his scruff. It takes him a minute to realize what she actually means. "What're…Oh seven hells! Can't a man go a day or three without shaving without everyone carping at him?"
Pippa rubs at that stubbly cheek, rub rub rub! She's already starting to shake with a giggle by the time the poor lad cottons on, and his exclamation only furthers her dissolve into a fit. She tosses her head back to giggle up at the roof, then down to giggle at her lap, and then - wiping a fake tear from her dry eyes - she blinks up mock-innocently at Jarod. "Ah, I thought you was the pretty one, not the sensitive one! Sorry, ay? Dinna mean t'upsetcha, Ser." She winks. "What brings you out thisaways, 'uh? Not 'ere for the girls, surely?"
"I'm not sensitive, or I'd weep at you tugging on my face like that," Jarod mutters, sitting back in his chair and taking a long gulp of ale. The drinking helps his dignity recover somewhat. Though the question still earns a shrug. "Family business, you could call it. By the by. You been in town long, Miss Pip? And you mind if I ask where your last stop was, before you headed to Stonebridge?"
"Looks a bit gruff," opines Pippa, sitting back to study the beard for a thoughtful moment. And then decides (possibly lying through her teeth, or possibly just deranged): "I reckon I don't so much mind it on yer." She hums a note and her drink arrives, so of course she takes a moment to imbibe before answering Jarod's questions. "Hm? I only got 'ere this morn, from the Mire, ah? Been back there ever since I did run that letter 'own there for the good Ser Jarod. Why you be askin', you mind if I ask?"
"Well…thanks…" Jarod strokes his very humble and misguided beard beginnings thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll keep it. Might make me look older." He considers that a moment, though his attention comes back to Pippa proper quick enough. "As I said, I'm down here on family business. Looking to catch up with my brother, the Young Lord Jaremy, actually. He's traveling through this country now. Tell me. You didn't happen to see him when you were passing through the Mire, did you?"
"Older," Pip agrees with a nod and a raise of her glass. "More a'stinguished, ay?" Ah, the beard. What an icebreaker! Pippa nestles her mug upon the table with two hands wrapped 'round it, and turns another thoughtful look up to Jarod. "Hmmm, now. I did not be seeing no Young Lords riding through the swamp, or to the swamp, of from the swamp in my travels," she says, "Not the ones from the henhouse, no. But that don't mean 'e wasn't there? Did you lose 'im? How in the seven 'ells do you manage to lose a Young Lord, ay?"
"Asstinguished?" Jarod even mispronounced Pippa's mispronouncement. And frowns. He's not sure if he wants to look that. He scratches at the unfortunate beginnings of a beard on his chin again. "Perhaps I'll shave it when I get home after all." As for her question about the young lord, it takes him a second to answer. "Not lost. Just…misplaced a bit, you understand. We were supposed to go hunting in these parts, him and me, but he didn't show up where I expected to meet him. I thought you might've passed each other on the road. Seeing how you get around as you do." He winks, and drinks deeper of his ale.
Pippa snorts into her drink at the abrupt about-face on the beard, gulping down her amusement. "Just… misplaced 'im, ah." It does take her a couple seconds to parse that, looking puzzledly down at her drink before the expression smooths. "That ain't no good," she worries, her thumb wearing at the side of her mug as she looks back up at Jarod. "I'll be keepin' an eye out then, ay? Gettin' around as I does." Her smile resurfaces as he winks, and she returns it with another of her own. "Ain't seen 'im lately, though. Not since that night we did be drinkin' together, you an' me. He turned up after, playin' the larrikin."
"If you could I'd be appreciative," Jarod says. "Might see some silver coming your way if you find word of him. Keep it to yourself that he's gone…misplaced, though would you? It's nothing serious, but some folk in these lands might take it…wrong." Drink. "Larrikin?" Blink blink. "What's a larr-whatsit now?
"You don't gotta be doin' that now," says Pip with a wave of her hand to dismiss the notion of payment. "Ain't no trouble, Ser Jarod, ay?" She lays a finger aside of her nose to promise her silence. "A larrikin? Ay, now, this's why they don't be sayin' yer the smart one, is't? A scallywag, Ser, a larrikin. 'e was fair takin' the piss outta me, pretendin' he was not no Lord, just a lad as plain as plain can be. Spilled my drink on me fer singin' that song though, ah? I shoulda picked him at that!"
"He claimed he wasn't a lordling?" Jarod frowns, thoughtfully. He's quiet for a moment, drinking more steadily. The tale seems to hit something in him though, whatever it is, he doesn't speak on it with Pippa. "So. You made it down to Fairmarket, then? Get my letter to the gentleman who was to receive it?"
"Only until I called 'im out, ay?" Pippa shrugs, not thinking much of it. Not as much as Jarod seems to be, anyway. "Thought it was a right joke, he did. Ah, well, the lad ain't a bad one, ay? Good sort, but 'e sure is sensitive." She tips her mug back to drain the last few gulps. "Aye," is her response, given after she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I sure did! 'e was a right cranky ol' lad, ay? Didn't like t'see me yammerin' away all friendly-like. Maybe just was a bad day for 'im, 'uh? Never t'be mindin'."
"Aye, Jaremy's a good sort," Jarod says, tone warm, if a bit sad. Gulp. The comment about the grumpy mans earns a laugh. "That's old Master Bevins for you. I've met him twice in my life and both times he's been frowning, so don't take it to offense. Aye. Never to be minding. It's done, at least."
A snort echoes in Pip's throat and nose, not quite escaping her mouth. "Oh, aye, none offense done be taken 'ere! See a lotta it, I does, y'be takin' good news and bad in this job, ay? People don't so much be likin' the looks've a courier when they ain't expectin' sunshine and roses in the mail."
Jarod nods. "Understandable, I guess. Though I always preferred to go into the world with as much of a smile for other folk as I could. Doesn't cost you anything, and I figure it spares you a good deal of hardship." He shrugs. "Master Bevins and I are different sorts, however, and that's fine by me. Anyhow. I should be retiring. Got an early day tomorrow. Thanks for the company, Miss Pip." And he does flash her an easy grin.
Pip fair beams her smile back to Jarod, raising her empty glass to salute. "S'no trouble at all," she tells the Ser, nodding her head. "I should be thankin' you, ay? Thankyer for the comp'ny! I'll be lettin' yer know if I sees me the Young Lord around. You 'ave a good night, ay?" She's already waving down another serving girl for another drink.
You give Jarod a cookie.
