Strange new face

 *the soft sound of whistling to an unfamiliar tune fills the air as a man approaches the doors to the tavern. He stops at the door, smiles, knocks in a rhythmic sing-song pattern, places his hands on his hips, and waits a moment. After a short pause, he loudly exclaims “I’ll get it!” Before opening the door. In the doorway stands a man with long dark hair accented by a pair of mismatched horns (one a crystalline-resin orange swirled with brown, the other a metallic bronze and blue) with a floofy goatee and matching mustache made of fiery orange. A wide casual and genuine grin spreads across his teeth as his hands rest in the pockets of a jacket that is both incredibly simple and equally as exotic. He steps forward sideways with a slide and a snap, humming and dancing his way step-by-step toward the bar. Once he finally reaches a stool, he plants his palms on it and hops up into a squat on the high seat. His elbows rest on his knees as he keeps a flat footed squat, a pair of autumnal moth wings twitching occasionally on his back as a wide spread lattice of oranges, blues, and greens pulse softly beneath his pale skin. He looks around behind the bar, smiling ever still as he squats patiently* 


 

The barkeep turns around as the newcomer takes a seat. He's a large man, bulky with broad shoulders and a short beard. He's cleaning a mug with a cloth as he turns and eyes the newcomer briefly before approaching the counter. He sets the mug to the side and uses the same rag to wipe the spot in front of the fae.

"Oi there, fella. Welcome to tha Weepin' Rose. What can I do fer ya?" 

A couple of barstools to his right, sits a draconian with colorful wings and a fluffy lions tail swishing behind her. She has horns peeking through dark hair and curling back on her head. She looks up as the barkeep speaks and spots the fae in the nearby barstool. After a quick examination, she snaps her attention back to her drink and runs a hand down her face, mumbling to herself.

A small pixie dressed in dark clothing sits on the stool beside the draconian, her legs swinging idly as she rolls a small die across the counter. As the draconian mumbles to herself, the pixie’s attention drifts upward, searching for the cause. When she spots the other fae, she startles, then quickly scurries behind the draconian. Only the curve of her small horns and the glint of dark, watchful eyes peek out over her shoulder.

*the stranger looks him over with a quick and sharp down-up nod of his head, then chuckles as he shrugs* not sure big man! I saw doors and walked inside. What kind of place is this? *he looks around the room, still keeping his squat in the high stool as his eyes take in the very obvious tavern setting. He turns to him again and asks* some kind of place for lots of people. *he thinks, then nods to himself* yes, lots lots. But nobody here. *he quickly and fully extends an arm to his right, dramatically pointing at the only other person* that one said they can’t come here. *he leans forward, pretending to whisper with the back of his hand blocking his face as his other jabs a thumb in her direction, whispering loudly to the barkeep* that one there, name is Penelope. The wind doesn’t like them and a frog I passed says they eat short men. You’re in danger lil guy. *he dramatically winks at the barkeep, a large grin staying plastered across his teeth the whole time*

The barkeep listens, an eyebrow raised as the stranger speaks. When the stranger finishes speaking he slowly nods his head once and then lifts the rag from the counter. "Aye... Aye... Sure thing. Ya gonna order somethin'?"

Storm looks over at the pixie hiding behind her and then at the barkeep before glancing at the stranger once more. She says something in another language and then turns back to her companion.

"Hey. You know that one or something?" She asks softly.
 

*he sits back down into his squat and tilts his head, wings twitching twice as he chuckles softly* order?…oh! Wait, this is a place of sales! *he stuffs a hand into his pocket and digs around* tell me good small fellow, what do you ssssssssSELL in this fine establishment? *he looks at his hand in his pocket, trying to grab something still. He fights it a few more seconds before pulling out a gemstone. It’s crude and rugged, about the size of a marble. It’s actually very well shined and sleek if not horribly cut and jagged, but it’s definitely not worth anything. He flaps his wings hard to boost up a bit and switches to a cross-legged sit, thudding down into his seat with both elbows on the bar and folded hands resting under his chin. He raises an eyebrow and slides the gem over with one finger* whatever THIS will get me, keep the change. *he snaps his head to the draconian, then back to the barkeep as he blocks the view of the gem from them. He whispers loudly to the barkeep again* don’t let Penelope see. The frog said she might break into song and I canNOT harmonize right now.