fandomhigh | Blending In: Class 4, Period 3

Aly wasn't upset the island had decided to move. Really. She totally hadn't planned an entire class around 'blending in France.'

So inside she asked the class to meet her in the Danger Shop which was currently a tavern of the sort one would find in just about any Tortall town. That is to say vaguely medieval, filled with barmaids and lower more scruffy sorts mixed in with a few fine gentlemen slumming it and a mix of craftsmen drinking, eating or otherwise engaged. If anyone was familiar, this particular tavern looked a good bit like the old Dancing Dove in Corus, but few other than Aly probably realised.

Aly leaned against one of the walls, watching the students. "Today we're going to practce fitting in to a place that most of you might be a bit unfamiliar with - those who are? You have an easy week. Enjoy it. The name of this tavern is the Dancing Dove, and what I want you to do is dress the part after seeing what the other patrons are using. Try to blend in with the patrons, don't start a fight, and find out who Rispah is. Pair up or go on your own."

She grinned. "Questions?"

[OOC: ~~Please wait for the~~ OCD is up, more information will be in there!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pair up or go in by yourself. I'll ping in NPCs opposite you or your group to interact with and fulfill your objectives.

Edited 2008-06-03 12:40 (UTC)

He knew bars, pubs, taverns, whatever you wanted to call this one. Michael was confident enough to go in on his own.

There were an assortment of people in the tavern, all drinking and laughing, no one much noticing Michael.

Well, that was good, right? They were supposed to blend in.

He wandered towards the bar.

"What'll you have then?" one of the hurried barmaids asked.

Re: The Tavern

rebelheartalien.livejournal.com - 2008-06-04 06:07 (UTC) - Expand

Liir was not in a 'pairing' mood. As such, he slung the quiver with his broom over his shoulder so it looked proper enough before heading in.

He made as little noise as possible and headed for a dark corner.

One of the boys in the room noticed Liir as he moved through the room. Every so often, his eyes would go back to Liir, but he mostly involved in his own conversation.

Liir didn't approach, but he did gesture to an empty seat with a sympathetic sort of expression.

Perhaps he'd run out of time before completing the assignment, but he hoped not.

Gwen nodded to the bartender for a drink, even if she had no intention of actually drinking it.

"Here you go, girlie," the bartender said with a quick grin. "New around here?"

Gwen returned the smile. "Oh, aye," she said, letting her accent thicken. "From up the coast."

Seregil went in, and made his way to the bar, his eyes scanning the room.

One of the girls in the tavern sidled up to him. "Ale or whiskey man?"

"Ale, please," Seregil said, giving her an engaging smile.

Evey quietly made her way to the bar and ordered herself a pint, keeping an ear open to try to adapt her accent to match the other patrons'.

A little boy ran pell-mell through the tavern finally trying to dodge behind Evey's knees.

Evey startled a bit, craning her neck to look at the child. "Are you being chased?"

"Oh yes!" the little boy said. "It was my sister!"

No one in a tavern would ever notice a small creature (a shrew, actually) scurrying close to the wall, and scavenging for crumbs, right?

However, it was somewhat more noticeable when there was a popping noise and the shrew suddenly expanded to six feet of rangy blond nakedness, too dazed for the moment to cover himself.

One of the girls in the tavern looked up quickly and quite obviously licked her lips before approaching him.

There was a girl looking at him, and, to Romeo, the immediate reflex was to smile back, maybe adjust his shirt a little to make sure his clothes showed him to the best advantage.

Which lead to the discovery he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Suspicious.

His hand went down a little lower and ... yep. No pants either, and really, it would be better for everyone if his hand didn't do any more exploring. Not that it was much on his mind, which was currently busy with a)I'm naked; b)Why do I suddenly fear hamster balls; and c)NAKED. IN CLASS. OH MY GOD.

He let out a rather girly yelp and grabbed for a chair to hold against himself, covering at least some of the more interesting bits.

tricksy-spy.livejournal.com - 2008-06-04 00:36 (UTC) - Expand

withoutverona - 2008-06-04 00:47 (UTC) - Expand

If there was one thing Dōjima knew, it was bars, and how people behaved in them.

With a swish of her skirts, she plopped herself down on an unclaimed seat, eyes flickering over some of the more attractive male patrons of the establishment. There was no rule that said she couldn't enjoy the view during the assignment.

A voice came from beneath a nearby table. It might be the voice of god, as mysterious voices sometimes are, but it was probably just a Montague.

"Dojima! Dojima!"

...

He didn't.

Dōjima kept looking around the room, as if she hadn't a care in the world, and no one was calling her name.

Because the person that voice belonged to was currently a mousie who very much did not talk, and if he had just turned back, well, she was not going to admit to knowing the crazy-probably-naked man under the table. That would defeat the purpose of blending in.

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Inara stood by the bar, trying to look as much like she was working as possible, but taking the time to listen to conversations and learn what she could, including any accents.