[Center][color=chocolate][h2]Ophelia Cayde[/h2][/color][/center]

[@Dark Cloud]

[Color=firebrick]”Bourbon and whisky too much for you lady,”[/color] he had questioned her, leaving Ophelia no time to retort before scrambling across the bar. For an old man he was surprisingly nimble, a just a few hairs short of being graceful she would wager. Ophelia’s brows had shot up in surprise and felt the whisper of amusement thread through her while the man's sword clanged loudly against the grain. This was already a welcome change from her previous set of disappointments. She waited politely while he rummaged briefly beneath the bar before emerging with a cloth apron and a bottle of something. She squinted at the faded design but ultimately couldn’t recognize the label that was peeling around the dark green glass. 

[Color=chocolate][i]Still has to be a step up from whatever, this, is.[/i][/color] She set the mug down on the counter, tapping it’s cold base with an idle finger. 

[Color=firebrick] “You know kid, in my time wandering the world I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting a shifty character. Not that I care where your gold is from, I’ve done my fair share of heists back in my day.”[/color] His voice was level, tinged with what Ophelia had hoped was amusement. Still, the alarm bells were ringing in the back of her skull; skin flush with adrenaline and liquor. Was she that obvious? She didn’t feel like she was being careless, after all she had only just gotten here. Was her string of bad luck already deepening? 

She sucked in a calming breath, keeping her features neutral and composed. Whomever this man was he didn’t [i]seem[/i] threatening. Ophelia let her light eyes roam freely over his weathered face. Her shoulders drooped once her nervous system decided it was placed enough. If he was going to turn her in he would have signaled a guard by now. With a draw of her brows she let her eyes widen, doe-like and pulled her arms into her lap—giving the illusion of being smaller than she already was. [Color=chocolate]”Sir, I surely don’t know what you mean?[/color] She rose her voice an octave. [Color=chocolate]”Do I look like someone capable of such things?”[/color] She fluttered her eyes at him for good measure. But try as she might, Ophelia could feel her face twinge, her nose itching as she attempted to hold the façade. But try as she might her lips twitched into a toothy smile before long. 

A burst of laughter tore from her, a bright sound that shook her entire frame. [Color=chocolate]”I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”[/color] Ophelia waved her hands in the air between them while she gulped down fresh air. [Color=chocolate]”I don’t know how some people pull off the pout. I’m just—”[/color] she paused to let out a lingering giggle, [color=chocolate]”It’s just not me. But let me level with ya, old man. Coin has no mortality. No owner. Just an item used in terms of trade and often misplaced. Wouldn’t you agree?”[/color] she prompted while he leaned his sword against the wood.

[Color=firebrick]“I don’t even work here kid, seems though that maybe this old warrior is destined to be a barkeep though. And whose to fight destiny eh?”[/color] he continued. She should have known. The more closer she looked the more and more obvious it was. With a steady hand she glided the mug of foul liquid towards him before moving to open the wine bottle.

[Color=chocolate]”That became evident enough after you hopped over, old man. Though I wager you should try that swill before assessing my tastes.”[/color] She paused to scrunch her nose in distaste. The cheap ale still lingering on the back of her tongue. [Color=chocolate]”Cheers, though, to a drink shared betwixt the moral planes of society.”[/color] Ophelia popped the cork before taking a swing straight from the bottle. It was smoother that was for sure but also weaker. She had given up potency for taste. [Color=chocolate][i]A damn shame.[/i][/color] She sighed into the rim.