Trager falls off the wagon... straight into a door.

Trager · February 2014

EDIT: Removed until I can figure out this spacing issue.

Xavin · February 2014

Please to fix? Impossible read

Trager · February 2014

Sorry! Working on it!

Rashar · February 2014

Here's a bit of roleplay that Rashar and I did, trying to show the 'hidden' little issues behind the normally perfectly-controlled Trager. Be gently, pleaaaase, and hope you enjoy!

You have emoted: Trager continues swirling a stout glass with traces of whiskey, the drink remaining untouched.

Rashar's eyebrow lifts into his bangs. "Drinking I see. Evident even without that glass, if those eyes are any indication." He grins widely, nearly a snarl and looking like challenge and that familiar flash of excitement. Despite the menacing look, his eyes are far too light for you to miss - a facade, or a simple declaration of willingness? "Think we both know you're the better killer, brother. But unless you're planning on just whacking my head off straightaway, you'd better be ready for a bloody fucking nose."

You have emoted: Trager's grip tightens on a stout glass with traces of whiskey, his knuckles growing white and taunt. "Am I allowed not one to myself, brother?" He spits out brazenly. He jerks his head towards a guardian angel. "Here I am, enjoying my newfound powers, but what do I get to hear?" He drones mockingly.

You have emoted: Trager's gaze shifts to a stout glass with traces of whiskey in his hand, eyes eyebrows furrowing as he contemplates it dispassionately. "But even now, in my fury, I find it so very hard...." He whispers softly. "So very hard to take even the very first sip."

Rashar wrinkles his nose, shifting his head back and forth between you and the angel. His hands come out in a wide arch, dropping with a clap to his sides. "I'm sure you're going to get around to telling me." Again that tilt of his head, the inquisitive look. At your second comment, he takes a step forward and levels a finger at the drink. "Then don't. I don't -really- feel like cleaning this place up when you're done."

You have emoted: Trager flashes Rashar a venomous sneer, his nostrils flairing as muscles ripple and clench throughout his body. "A conversation with Kaleigh, brother." He growls the last word. "Not intentionally heard, but heard nonetheless."

You have emoted: Trager's voice drops into a pained whisper, almost lamenting, "Must you chase them all? Must you have all the attention?" His voice wracked and near trembling. "You, the loved brother. No matter what I do to prove myself, must they all be yours?" His attention shifts back to a stout glass with traces of whiskey and with one final, quivering look, he raises it to his lips and takes a long, hard drink.

Looking skeptical, Rashar brings his arms up and crosses them over his chest. "Eh?" His lips twist slightly, looking like he's just eaten a lemon. "Spying now, are we? What of it, Trager? I can't recall a thing I've said to her lately that I wouldn't say in front of you."

You have emoted: Trager's eyes shut as the liquid hits his throat, a wince showing through his face. Setting the glass back a moment he returns to regarding you, the pain in his eyes now replaced with familiar fury. "Ah, but she would so gladly kiss you for whatever service you must have offered."

You have emoted: "Weak as piss." Trager rumbles loudly.

Rashar growls himself and turns, moving over to close the door to the tavern. "Here we fucking go again," he grumbles loudly. Turning back to you, he pauses. "What?" he asks, as if he hadn't heard.

Rashar closes the door to the north.

(Duiran): Rashar says, "Ivory Bough is closed until my brother either whacks my head off or passes out. Neither should take long.""

You have emoted: Trager's eyes spark and flicker, his mood darkening by the moment. "I overheard a conversation between yourself and Kaleigh." He growls. "In a way, I am not surprised." He tips the glass, taking another deep swallow. "At least, I should not be, when it concerns you and women."

You sip from a stout glass with traces of whiskey.

Rashar pulls a hand up, raking it back through his hair. "Hey, you Gods damned rocked headed bastard. You going to quit talking in circles and tell me what you heard that has you looking for the bottom of that glass?" He sneers, reaching down into his pack to grab a wooden keg. "Actually, fuck it Don't be a halfasser. Take it straight to the gut, yeah?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, he finishes, "I'm just -certain- with another drink or two you'll start making even more sense."

You are startled as a wooden keg bounces harmlessly off you after being thrown at you by Rashar.

You have emoted: Trager barely winces as a wooden keg with traces of Windrayn whiskey hits him and he focuses his attention on it alone. "Windrayn Whiskey." He drawls dispassionately. "Not sure I've tried that."

You sip from a wooden keg with traces of Windrayn whiskey, the smokey, yet sweet, beverage numbing your throat, the hint of raspberry barely recognizable behind the bitter hemlock.

You have emoted: Trager gives another derisive snort. "I'll leave the keg-stands to you, oh spotlight-hungry brother." He growls as he leans down to take another quaff.

You sip from a wooden keg with traces of Windrayn whiskey, the smokey, yet sweet, beverage numbing your throat, the hint of raspberry barely recognizable behind the bitter hemlock.

Rashar shrugs. "Feller's better, but Serrice poured my other keg out." The words come almost conversationally, but he nonetheless paces back and forth with an intent, now - slate grey set of bottomless eyes watching you. He doesn't reply, save for to grunt and wait for an elaboration.

You have emoted: Trager contemplates a stout glass in his hand for a moment, his eyes flashing between it and a wooden keg with traces of Windrayn whiskey. "Don't need this anymore, I suppose." He says almost matter-of-factly. Without a moments hesitation he hurls it to the side, sending it smashing into a nearby wall with a shatter of glass and whiskey.

You sip from a wooden keg with traces of Windrayn whiskey, the smokey, yet sweet, beverage numbing your throat, the hint of raspberry barely recognizable behind the bitter hemlock.

Rashar crosses his arms and watches passively. Though he stands on his toes, light and prepared, he makes no attempt to approach or retreat from you. "How did that feel?" he asks.

You have emoted: Trager gives a smug shrug of his shoulders as he bends to sip yet again from the keg. "Good." He admits with a slight slur to his words.

Rashar nods. "Got another hundred or so drinks in there. You man enough" Or are you going to finally get around to telling me what foolish notion has plopped into that stubborn head of yours, so I can squash it."

Rashar grumbles angrily.

You have emoted: Trager falls silent for a moment, contemplating Rashar thoughtfully. "What I mean to say." He drawls mockingly now. "Is that I overheard Kaleigh mention something about kissing you." He takes another sip to bolster his words. "Now, what is it brother? Get some sick twist of pleasure in allowing me to find someone worthwhile to spend my time only to play me on the side?"

Rashar blinks. His eyebrows pull up high, disappearing into the bangs that he promptly pulls back and out of his face. "What?" He repeats. He looks somewhere between confused and incredulous. A pair of steps forward, not aggressively but certainly not hesitant either. "What in the fuck-" His head cocks to the side, and then with a visible quickness those eyes are lightening by degrees. His chin comes back, and laughter fills the tavern. Loud and rumbling, it echoes from the walls and falls back in waves upon you. When he finally looks back down, his brows are pulled down in mirth and a nearly silvered grey gaze finds its way to your own.

You have emoted: Trager appears taken-aback for but a moment, shock evident across his features. Instantly it's gone and replaced by a look of pure hatred. His body begins shaking, the muscles across his body rippling and twitching.

Still laughing within his chest, Rashar manages to shake his head and offer you an almost apologetic look. "Aha," he grunts. "Sorry.." With a helpless shrug that has his hands splayed out at his sides, he takes another step forward. One hand slips into a pocket, and the other comes up to point at you. "Do you know what she said that about, you Godsdamned prick? Why in the Pit wouldn't you ask before you walk down this road?" Slowly, Rashar seems to be working himself into some semblance of irritation now, and he turns to pace off to the side while slipping the other hand into a pocket as well.

You have emoted: Trager levels his flat gaze on Rashar as he sways slightly in his seat. "I am not sure I am at the point of caring anymore, brother." He spits. "It's always this way with you. Jealous. Possessive. Always setting these fucking limits on those you deem as 'yours'."

Eyes flashing and sinking near-instantly into a stormy shade of near-black, Rashar moves across the room like a tidal wave. Several chairs and a table are scattered before his approach, kicked aside and flipped out of the way and accompanied by an angry sounding growl. *CRACK* onto the table before you smashes his closed fist, and the protestations of the wood are audible even as the blood begins to spill out onto the surface. "I gave her some chocolates, Trager. Chocolates, a globe, and a chalice, so she could Ascend. I've made no approach to her, nor have I done -anything- but try and pull you two together." His gaze is focused, but the expression on his face paints a picture of some underlying frustration.. anger.. rage. "You're going to drag us into this dark place over some fucking chocolates?" He stands upright and crosses his arms, glaring at you with clenching jaws and a small rivulet of crimson dripping down his ribs from the bloodied hand. "Even now she defends you, you fool, and asks me why I'm bothering you."

You have emoted: Trager lurches forward from his seat, his hand clenching and reaching far back behind him before slamming into the side of your face. His chest heaving he steps back quickly, sinking into a guarded position, albeit his swaying nature.

In a thundering voice, you say, "Fuck you, Rashar. FucK you and your covetous *hic* fuckinng nnottmonsh."

Rashar takes a single step back with the blow, head cracking to the side and eyes closing in a wince that turns almost immediately into a growl. He spits blood onto the floor, and even before his eyes have returned to you his hand is moving, lashing out like a band of quicksilver directly for your wobbling form. "Fucking -prick-" he grunts with the blow.

You have emoted: Trager stares blankly as Rashar's fist smashes into him squarely on the face, his nose bursting into a fountain of blood that pours freely onto the floor. Shaking his head he turns and stares at you squarely, wiping blood and tears away from his eyes. "Dead." He snarls, more primitive then human. Breaking into a stumbling run he begins charging towards Rashar with rapidly gaining speed.

Rashar ducks quickly to the side, growling and looking like it is taking more than considerable effort to not simply trade blows. Instead his foot lashes out, aiming directly for your legs as he charges.

You have emoted: Trager stumbles squarely into the closed door, his head cracking into the hardened wood with a resounding -CRACK-. Sinking onto the floor he collapses into a pile of blood and tears, his shoulders rocking as he breaks into heavy, wracking sobs. "Fuhck you, Rasar. Fuhck you." He attempts to snarl, the words coming out broken and slurred.

Rashar's face shifts to one of sadness, and he moves immediately to his knees next to you. With a grunt and a yank, he pulls your head and shoulders up into his lap and wraps two large arms around you. "Come on, Trager," he rumbles quietly, rocking back and forth several times. "You're fine, brother. Kind of stupid, and dead wrong, but you're alright, and I love you. Stop that."

You have emoted: Trager remains silent, save a few wracking chokes as he spits thick globs of blood onto the floor. "I-I'm.." He whispers in a choked voice. "I'm sorry."

Rashar grunts. "You're drunk," he replies. "And while you're better than me at just about everything else, you've never been better than me at this. You going to sleep here?"

You have emoted: Trager gives a barely perceptible nod of his head, and drags a shaking arm across his face. "T-the couchhh." He slurs heavily. "Help me therre."

Rashar stands and bends forward. Across his back and shoulders, muscles spring into rippling life as he hauls the slightly-smaller man up off the floor. "Heavy ass," he mutters as he makes his way over to the couch. More of a release than an assist, he drops you onto it and picks his feet up, sliding him sideways. "Sleep a while, and then Kaleigh is coming."

You have emoted: Trager groans loudly and gives a despairing sigh. "Great." He murmurs. "I-I.. Love you brother." He gives a small, choked snort. "Despite my reprehensible behavior."

Rashar places his hands on his hips, and for the first time in a while his face is twisted in that oh-so-familiar crooked grin. "Feller," he begins in an easy rumble, "If the worst thing I ever did was get drunk and whack a feller in the face for no reason, I'd be sitting a lot better than I am now."

You have emoted: Trager gives a soft nod of his head before drifting off into a room-shaking snore. Barely perceptible to the eye, a shimmering guardian angel floats gently to the couch, taking up vigil beside him.

Rashar · February 2014

I also want to add that I was RPing from my phone for over half of that, so if there are any typos or auto-corrects that I missed in the editing, meh.

Saybre · February 2014

Windrayn Whiskey - Bringing together families.

- Good read!

Kaleigh · February 2014

Ok, few things...

Good read! Honestly, you guys are both really great at RP.

Next, you both suck for posting this, and making an argument over little Kaleigh. Please don't be doing that kind of thing.

Other than that, good job @Rashar for rping through your phone!

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Trager falls off the wagon... straight into a door.

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