EpicRoleplay
Animal
TGM
Winters
FunnyGuy
wanderingwolf
DrRtron
Auz
WolfHorns
What has Rex been up to this entire time?
Rex woke up; his cheek was hot and somewhat sticky. His mouth was agape, and that was verified by his sore throat and dry tongue. Of course, it said nothing of the headache that thrummed right behind his eyes. He groggily stirred and rolled over, his long arm slapping against flesh. A grunt came out, and the hum of fan blades barely moving the air was the only other sound in the room. He opened his eyes and smacked his lips—mouth tasting like he’d licked sour milk.
The wooden paneled room with its equally wooden flooring was suffocating. A small window gave a hint of the sunlight that was outside behind thick, mauve curtains. The motes of dust danced around as sluggishly as he did. Rex threw a leg over the side of the bed, and his foot connected with what he thought was the ground. Instead, it was a glass bottle. It rolled underneath the arch of his foot and shot out from behind him—sending him into the bedside table. One moment he was catching himself in the mirror and the next his head collided with the sharp edge of the wooden table. He flailed helplessly, grabbing a hold of the curtain. It couldn’t hold his weight and clattered to the ground with him.
The other members of the room awoke, groaning and grunting as they pulled themselves from the thrall of bunched, sweaty sheets. Two heads poked over the side to get a good look at Rex splayed out on the floor, the curtain draped over his long form. “I saw it in the window, and I thought it’d look good on me,” he grunted out, the injury to his head adding to his headache.
One of the figures giggled, her blonde ringlets still angelically curled around her face. Rex didn’t know how she did. Black magic, maybe? The other was an older man who just rolled his eyes and pulled himself up. “Don’t tell me that I have to pay for that as well?” he asked.
“It looks like there are just hooks up there. I should be able to,” Rex started to say as he was pulling himself up. He choked the vomit in his throat down. Concentrate on the task at hand. Thirty-seven times nine is… he ran that math in his head as he steadied himself. While his head throbbed, he was able to crunch the numbers like gears grinding in an old ship. Three-hundred-and thirty-three. Wait? That right? He ran the computation again, grabbing the curtain from the ground and threading it over the hooks. It was as good as new… ish. As he admired it, his tired brain confirmed that was the correct amount. Rex had always been the smart one.
“See,” he said, gesturing towards the curtain. “I told you I could fix it.”
The man already had his pants on and was currently tucking in his shirt. His salt and pepper hair was messy, but the angelic woman was quickly running her fingers through it—as naked as the day she was born. “I suppose. You should just stick with,” he trailed off, waving his hand at the bed loosely, “and leave the higher arts to the ones that it comes naturally to. Isn’t that right, Trinket?” His face lit up as he glanced at the much younger woman. They were a married couple, and he was a prominent salesman of a food distribution company. Apparently, he’d come for—fish. It seemed like something that could be handled through a third party, but Rex figured the man was the sort that enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Rex could attest to that sentiment; his legs were going to hurt for a few days. These sorts of dalliances weren’t really well looked upon in certain societies, and there was always the sort that’d find him and his young wife out. So, why not handle business elsewhere? Get a taste for travel and other things.
Rex didn’t mind, though he hadn’t quite thought that was where his day was going yesterday. He’d finished fixing the logs, changing the numbers up, and tending to some things around the ship before leaving the China Doll to grab a drink. He’d fully intended on coming back to his cabin, but instead, one drink led to two led to six led to the bedroom with this couple. He hoped Cal or the like hadn’t been looking for him. Though, they were bound to have questions. Rex rubbed his sore head, feeling where the goose egg was going to raise up as the day went on. Could he say that someone mugged him?
The man fished out some platinums from the deep pockets of his coat and threw them into the bed. “I like to make sure I show my gratitude,” he said, straightening the collar of his coat. His wife was already dressed, Rex noted. She’d practically slipped into her dress like a fish into the water. It was amazing, really. Trinket was perfectly coifed with a giggle and the smell of roses.
Rex looked around the aftermath of a night of debauchery for his pants to tuck the platinum into. He realized he’d have to drop the mugging story if he planned on pocketing the money. Maybe he was mugged, then he hunted down his assailants and the local law enforcement paid him a pretty coin for their capture? That sounded feasible, right? Rex didn’t care to find backup for his story. He just wanted to find his pants. The sun was… up… and he probably needed to make an appearance at the China Doll lest they think he was dead, or Cal thought he’d abandoned him—again.
“This never happened, by the way,” Trinket said with a smile. She was adjusting her garter belt, and Rex caught that her statement was not just punctuated by words but also a thin blade tucked into the frills. When in the nine hells had she put that back on? Where was it last night? Rex must have been getting lax in his old age. He wanted to applaud the older gentleman. The marriage wasn’t just for arm candy, it was for protection as well.
“What happened? I just got drunk and fell asleep, and you two were nice enough to lend me your room.” Rex smiled, finding his pants, and sliding them on. He glanced down, realizing he’d need to wear something a little less revealing today. There were too many hickeys to say that he’d also fallen into the sea and gotten accosted by the largest of cephalopods.
The man gave his first semblance of emotions as he smiled and winked at Rex. “Right. We’re nothing but good Samaritans, aren’t we Trinket?” She nodded, dropping the hem of her dress, and latching onto his arm. Then they were gone. Just like that, out the door as if no time had lapsed at all. Where, on the other hand, Rex looked as if he’d been in a brawl with the business end of a wet mop.
Using the mirror, he dressed and fixed his hair. He ran a hand over his beard, realizing that he needed to give it a trim. Making the bed and pocketing the platinum, Rex slid out of the room long after the high-born couple had. He slunk down the stairs and out of the inn. Barely anyone was awake, and they surely hadn’t had their coffee to connect the wires on what he’d been up to.
A shower later in the China Doll along with a change of clothes, and Rex was bandaging his head in the makeshift mirror. He’d trimmed his beard and the hair on top of his head and applied some light cologne to get the smell of booze off him—hopefully. He was still more than a little drunk. The best cure for a hangover was always more alcohol. Lucky eyed him out of the shadow of his cage. Rex glanced back, catching that there was the refuse of food that he hadn’t given the bird. “You’re judging me for my actions when I’m not the one showing off my pretty feathers for treats. Who was it? The small one with the clipboard? The pilot? That haggard deckhand? The doctor?” He paused. “Oh. Was it the doctor? You must tell me if it was her. Too much pretty to be shackled with those brains.”
The bird just let out a gravelly noise from his beak.
“Don’t tell me you bit them?” He narrowed his eyes at Lucky. “Nah. You would never. You love treats too much.” He extended his hand, resting it on top of the opened cage door. Lucky took a few sidesteps and nuzzled into his palm. “Sorry, I promise I won’t leave you without company again.” Lucky nibbled his fingers. “I’ll let you pick. But it’s not going to be the pilot.” He nipped Rex’s hand. “Hey, be nice, or it’ll be Cal.”
After some time, Lucky managed to con him into taking him along. He climbed up Rex’s broad shoulder and slid in behind his ear, resting against the crevice between his ear and neck. The bird let out a few happy chirps as Rex pulled his jacket on, creating a nice cozy, resting place for him. Rex also put on a deep purple shirt that he fully buttoned up. It covered most of his neck, and only a sliver of a hickey protruded from the top of it. It was the best he could do without throwing a scarf around his neck, which would just draw suspicion. Now, he’d just look nice for dinner—or whatever time it was. Either way, it wasn’t too late for coffee.
Rex pulled himself up the ladder and into the hallway of the China Doll, making his way to the galley. There he brewed himself a large cup of instant coffee from whatever powered mixture they had. He then sat down at the table to sip it. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far in before he fell asleep, chin resting on top of his palm. Lucky took that moment to crawl out from his jacket and perch atop his head, ever alert for any intruders.
The wooden paneled room with its equally wooden flooring was suffocating. A small window gave a hint of the sunlight that was outside behind thick, mauve curtains. The motes of dust danced around as sluggishly as he did. Rex threw a leg over the side of the bed, and his foot connected with what he thought was the ground. Instead, it was a glass bottle. It rolled underneath the arch of his foot and shot out from behind him—sending him into the bedside table. One moment he was catching himself in the mirror and the next his head collided with the sharp edge of the wooden table. He flailed helplessly, grabbing a hold of the curtain. It couldn’t hold his weight and clattered to the ground with him.
The other members of the room awoke, groaning and grunting as they pulled themselves from the thrall of bunched, sweaty sheets. Two heads poked over the side to get a good look at Rex splayed out on the floor, the curtain draped over his long form. “I saw it in the window, and I thought it’d look good on me,” he grunted out, the injury to his head adding to his headache.
One of the figures giggled, her blonde ringlets still angelically curled around her face. Rex didn’t know how she did. Black magic, maybe? The other was an older man who just rolled his eyes and pulled himself up. “Don’t tell me that I have to pay for that as well?” he asked.
“It looks like there are just hooks up there. I should be able to,” Rex started to say as he was pulling himself up. He choked the vomit in his throat down. Concentrate on the task at hand. Thirty-seven times nine is… he ran that math in his head as he steadied himself. While his head throbbed, he was able to crunch the numbers like gears grinding in an old ship. Three-hundred-and thirty-three. Wait? That right? He ran the computation again, grabbing the curtain from the ground and threading it over the hooks. It was as good as new… ish. As he admired it, his tired brain confirmed that was the correct amount. Rex had always been the smart one.
“See,” he said, gesturing towards the curtain. “I told you I could fix it.”
The man already had his pants on and was currently tucking in his shirt. His salt and pepper hair was messy, but the angelic woman was quickly running her fingers through it—as naked as the day she was born. “I suppose. You should just stick with,” he trailed off, waving his hand at the bed loosely, “and leave the higher arts to the ones that it comes naturally to. Isn’t that right, Trinket?” His face lit up as he glanced at the much younger woman. They were a married couple, and he was a prominent salesman of a food distribution company. Apparently, he’d come for—fish. It seemed like something that could be handled through a third party, but Rex figured the man was the sort that enjoyed getting his hands dirty. Rex could attest to that sentiment; his legs were going to hurt for a few days. These sorts of dalliances weren’t really well looked upon in certain societies, and there was always the sort that’d find him and his young wife out. So, why not handle business elsewhere? Get a taste for travel and other things.
Rex didn’t mind, though he hadn’t quite thought that was where his day was going yesterday. He’d finished fixing the logs, changing the numbers up, and tending to some things around the ship before leaving the China Doll to grab a drink. He’d fully intended on coming back to his cabin, but instead, one drink led to two led to six led to the bedroom with this couple. He hoped Cal or the like hadn’t been looking for him. Though, they were bound to have questions. Rex rubbed his sore head, feeling where the goose egg was going to raise up as the day went on. Could he say that someone mugged him?
The man fished out some platinums from the deep pockets of his coat and threw them into the bed. “I like to make sure I show my gratitude,” he said, straightening the collar of his coat. His wife was already dressed, Rex noted. She’d practically slipped into her dress like a fish into the water. It was amazing, really. Trinket was perfectly coifed with a giggle and the smell of roses.
Rex looked around the aftermath of a night of debauchery for his pants to tuck the platinum into. He realized he’d have to drop the mugging story if he planned on pocketing the money. Maybe he was mugged, then he hunted down his assailants and the local law enforcement paid him a pretty coin for their capture? That sounded feasible, right? Rex didn’t care to find backup for his story. He just wanted to find his pants. The sun was… up… and he probably needed to make an appearance at the China Doll lest they think he was dead, or Cal thought he’d abandoned him—again.
“This never happened, by the way,” Trinket said with a smile. She was adjusting her garter belt, and Rex caught that her statement was not just punctuated by words but also a thin blade tucked into the frills. When in the nine hells had she put that back on? Where was it last night? Rex must have been getting lax in his old age. He wanted to applaud the older gentleman. The marriage wasn’t just for arm candy, it was for protection as well.
“What happened? I just got drunk and fell asleep, and you two were nice enough to lend me your room.” Rex smiled, finding his pants, and sliding them on. He glanced down, realizing he’d need to wear something a little less revealing today. There were too many hickeys to say that he’d also fallen into the sea and gotten accosted by the largest of cephalopods.
The man gave his first semblance of emotions as he smiled and winked at Rex. “Right. We’re nothing but good Samaritans, aren’t we Trinket?” She nodded, dropping the hem of her dress, and latching onto his arm. Then they were gone. Just like that, out the door as if no time had lapsed at all. Where, on the other hand, Rex looked as if he’d been in a brawl with the business end of a wet mop.
Using the mirror, he dressed and fixed his hair. He ran a hand over his beard, realizing that he needed to give it a trim. Making the bed and pocketing the platinum, Rex slid out of the room long after the high-born couple had. He slunk down the stairs and out of the inn. Barely anyone was awake, and they surely hadn’t had their coffee to connect the wires on what he’d been up to.
A shower later in the China Doll along with a change of clothes, and Rex was bandaging his head in the makeshift mirror. He’d trimmed his beard and the hair on top of his head and applied some light cologne to get the smell of booze off him—hopefully. He was still more than a little drunk. The best cure for a hangover was always more alcohol. Lucky eyed him out of the shadow of his cage. Rex glanced back, catching that there was the refuse of food that he hadn’t given the bird. “You’re judging me for my actions when I’m not the one showing off my pretty feathers for treats. Who was it? The small one with the clipboard? The pilot? That haggard deckhand? The doctor?” He paused. “Oh. Was it the doctor? You must tell me if it was her. Too much pretty to be shackled with those brains.”
The bird just let out a gravelly noise from his beak.
“Don’t tell me you bit them?” He narrowed his eyes at Lucky. “Nah. You would never. You love treats too much.” He extended his hand, resting it on top of the opened cage door. Lucky took a few sidesteps and nuzzled into his palm. “Sorry, I promise I won’t leave you without company again.” Lucky nibbled his fingers. “I’ll let you pick. But it’s not going to be the pilot.” He nipped Rex’s hand. “Hey, be nice, or it’ll be Cal.”
After some time, Lucky managed to con him into taking him along. He climbed up Rex’s broad shoulder and slid in behind his ear, resting against the crevice between his ear and neck. The bird let out a few happy chirps as Rex pulled his jacket on, creating a nice cozy, resting place for him. Rex also put on a deep purple shirt that he fully buttoned up. It covered most of his neck, and only a sliver of a hickey protruded from the top of it. It was the best he could do without throwing a scarf around his neck, which would just draw suspicion. Now, he’d just look nice for dinner—or whatever time it was. Either way, it wasn’t too late for coffee.
Rex pulled himself up the ladder and into the hallway of the China Doll, making his way to the galley. There he brewed himself a large cup of instant coffee from whatever powered mixture they had. He then sat down at the table to sip it. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far in before he fell asleep, chin resting on top of his palm. Lucky took that moment to crawl out from his jacket and perch atop his head, ever alert for any intruders.
