[[OOC: 22nd Firstfall, evening]] Celeste Monroe
Isabela was bored. This was a dangerous state of affairs.
It wasn’t as though the coin hadn’t been flowing recently. In fact she’d been doing pretty well for herself, but almost legitimately. She was introducing people to each other and they were paying her a commission for the new contact, and that was enough to float on top of the roiling shitstorm that was this city. She hadn’t even been out on an adventure with Josc lately. It was starting to get tedious, and when Isabela was bored, she made her own fun. But throughout today, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on much, and most of her usual playmates didn’t come by the Hanged Man.
She’d been sitting in a corner, boots up on the table, a few glasses of rum in and halfway through a game of bloody solitaire when she decided enough was enough. If fun wasn’t going to come to her, she was going to go find it, and no matter which seaside town you happened to be in, you could usually count on finding it down by the docks. She’d been avoiding the area ever since the qunari arrived – that and she didn’t entirely trust herself not to attempt to make off with a ship on her own, no matter how disastrous that might end. But she was willing to take the risk this evening.
Walking down there after dark was a bit risky, but after gleefully doling out a couple of black eyes and one pommel to the teeth (not hers, obviously), the shadowy denizens of Kirkwall obviously decided she wasn’t worth the effort and left her alone. She’d taken along a couple of bottles of rum, as a present, and was swigging out of one as she put a little more sway in her step than usual on the way to the quay.
There she was. The Wicked Grace was a beautiful ship, even denuded as she was of masts right now. Isabela raised up both bottles and hollered as she reached the gangplank. “Ahoy! You’re being boarded! Bring out your captain!”
Isabela was bored. This was a dangerous state of affairs.
It wasn’t as though the coin hadn’t been flowing recently. In fact she’d been doing pretty well for herself, but almost legitimately. She was introducing people to each other and they were paying her a commission for the new contact, and that was enough to float on top of the roiling shitstorm that was this city. She hadn’t even been out on an adventure with Josc lately. It was starting to get tedious, and when Isabela was bored, she made her own fun. But throughout today, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on much, and most of her usual playmates didn’t come by the Hanged Man.
She’d been sitting in a corner, boots up on the table, a few glasses of rum in and halfway through a game of bloody solitaire when she decided enough was enough. If fun wasn’t going to come to her, she was going to go find it, and no matter which seaside town you happened to be in, you could usually count on finding it down by the docks. She’d been avoiding the area ever since the qunari arrived – that and she didn’t entirely trust herself not to attempt to make off with a ship on her own, no matter how disastrous that might end. But she was willing to take the risk this evening.
Walking down there after dark was a bit risky, but after gleefully doling out a couple of black eyes and one pommel to the teeth (not hers, obviously), the shadowy denizens of Kirkwall obviously decided she wasn’t worth the effort and left her alone. She’d taken along a couple of bottles of rum, as a present, and was swigging out of one as she put a little more sway in her step than usual on the way to the quay.
There she was. The Wicked Grace was a beautiful ship, even denuded as she was of masts right now. Isabela raised up both bottles and hollered as she reached the gangplank. “Ahoy! You’re being boarded! Bring out your captain!”