This ain't Tortall

[provosts_dog]

Slowly, a tall young woman walks into the room. Her hair is pulled back in a severe braid.  At first glance, her face doesn't seem to brook any nonsense at all, but as she looks around, her face is lit up by a bright, warm smile. Her eyes are the most startling- ice blue, which don't seem to match her hair

Comments

[rob_fellows]

"Well that's a change." Here's Puck. He's eying her with amused eyebrows. "Most people who get here aren't so purposeful about it."

[provosts_dog]

"Well," replied Beka tartly, "most people round these parts ain't been trained to look for exits 'case they're attacked. I were."

[rob_fellows]

..... "And they call me pretentious." Under his breath.

"I suggest you loose the 'tude, sweetheart. Contrary to your assumption, there's plenty warriors here, plenty magic users, and while most are nice, most also have a temper."

[provosts_dog]

Mentally, Beka kicked herself, thinking she couldn't afford to be offending people already.

"My apologies, sir," she replied, with a bow, then smiled crookedly. "I've done gone and put my foot in my mouth now, haven't I? My Lord Provost says that iffen I don't keep myself in line, some noble's going t' be doin' it for me."

[tomboy_22]

She's not a dog! She's a cat (well, a very big one)! That qualifies, right?

She's just sitting on the windowsill, looking at the new arrival lazily.

[provosts_dog]

As she looks over the room, Beka notices a woman (?) lazing on the windowsill, watching her. The woman reminds her somewhat of Pounce, her cat. Her talking cat.

[tomboy_22]

No, she's a leopard. Physically - and there's really no telling what paranormal vision would show, Anita's just too complex for that, we're not even trying.

But yes, for now, she's a talking cat. That's very close.

[provosts_dog]

There was something uncanny about the giant cat. Somehow, Beka felt that the cat was not just a very large cat. Maybe some manners wouldn't go amiss, 'specially since the man had told her some here were mages and warriors. She bowed to the Cat, smiling.

[lorien_gal]

Galadriel is just wandering by, when she hears the comment, and she'll give an amused smile. Right, wait til you see what we have on our hands, Edain.

"Welcome to the Mansion, then, Edain-daughter."

[provosts_dog]

Beka looks at the woman, fine and lovely, and summons up the courage (and her best manners) to speak with her.

"Thank you, milady," she bows, "I'm appreciatin' it. What sort of place do youse-- er, you-- have here? Is it yours?"

[lorien_gal]

Galadriel inclines her head, very graciously.

"No, it is not mine, or anyone's, though some corridors have been claimed by various factions. I am Galadriel."

Her smile is open, if mysterious, and though Galadriel looks in her twenties, her eyes belie that - she is millenia old.

[provosts_dog]

Beka's eyes widened as she looked at the woman. There was something mysterious and uncanny about her, though not evil. "I, er, am most pleased to make your ac- ac- er, to meet you, Lady Galadriel," she said, figuring that the salutation couldn't hurt.

[sissy_queen]

Guinevere will walk in distractedly and pump into Beka. "Oh, pray forgive me."

At her feet, yes, really, those are absolutely fascinating shoes.

[provosts_dog]

Beka favors Guinevere with one of her rare smiles. "Don't ye worry," she says. "Happens all the time, and most people ain't so nice about it."

[sissy_queen]

Gwen blushes, then, deeply.

"Oh, my thanks, thou art very kind." She ventures a look up, very shyly.

[provosts_dog]

Beka laughed, a friendly sound, but a bit rough 'round the edges. "Thankee for sayin' that, but I think it's me that ought be 'pologizin' to you," she said. "What be your name, if I may be so bold to ask, my lady?"

[thornofcamorr]

Locke half grins at her from his post on the couch, tossing an orange from hand to hand. "Nicer than most places. On the surface. Of course, it's mostly a cesspool under all the finery, but I expect you'd understand that."

[provosts_dog]

Beka blinked at the man. "I don't think it'd be that bad, begging your pardon, sir. I lived in a place called the Cesspool, and it cain't be as bad as that." The smile on her face indicated the humor behind the words- she was joking, and had taken the comment in stride. "If it is that bad," she continued, "do me a favor and let me know a bit in advance so we-all can get out o' here wi'out the buildin' comin' down on us heads."

[thornofcamorr]

"Yeah, me too, they just called it Camorr," he says with another half grin, then drops the orange and stands up, offering a hand. "I'll be sure to alert you. Tavrin Callas."

The lie is absolutely flawless, though there is that wicked light in his eyes.

[provosts_dog]

With swift reflexes, Beka catches the orange with one hand, and then tosses it to her off-hand so that she can shake the proffered hand. "Well met, Mr. Tavrin Callas," she murmured. There was something odd about the glint of his eye, but she shook it off. Probably nothing.

"Your... Camorr couldn't ha' smelled any worse than our Cesspool and Nightmarket," she quipped.