Fane liked busking. He got to see a collection of new faces as he played for spare change. He was doing well this month, having just gotten back from a stint on a ship. Fane didnât need the money. He just liked playing.
With the violin tucked under his chin, Fane played a lively melody, attracting people interested in hearing the piece. He smiled at them, moving with the beat to encourage some of the younger audience to dance. Children dancing was always a great draw for patrons.
After a few lively numbers, the crowd was starting to wane, so Fane took a moment to rest for the next wave of patrons. He sat down to empty the cup of coins and glanced up. âIâll be back to it in a bit, just resting the chin,â he said, noticing the shadow blocking out some of the light.
âyour music is lovely,â moira leaned against the wall, her trusty mandolin resting on her back. âonly thing lovelier is your face.â she winked and pushed herself off the wall. âseems the people agree with me,â she gestured to the coins in his collection. âyouâve got quite the crowd followinâ you. and so it seems do i.â she waved at one of the sailors whoâd taken to following her hoping for some of her attention and perhaps more. âwant to see if we can entertain âem together?â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
moira laughed, sweeping up another glass and draining it without hesitation. the laughing crowd around her had her cheeks flushing with a pleasant buzz. âahhh shite, youâre makinâ me hungry love! barmaid!!!â she collapsed into the chair next to the... man... who seemed content to act as a chair for her new friend. ââve not been here too long- sailed in lookin for someone who may or may not be here. but if yâgive me a reason tâ stay, maybe i will.â
      â you think a fella like that will fork out enough to get you a decent drink ? start working on the goat fucking song.  â  cilla sits in the lap of one of the patrons, only giving him somewhat of her attention when necessary but sheâs not being paid at the moment. heâs more so a piece of furniture in this moment.  â throw more farm animals in for every verse, itâll have everyone here tickled. âÂ
moira laughs, loud and unrestrained. âyes! fuckinâ a goat in the first and beinâ fucked by a pig in the next!â she plucked a few strings on her mandolin, testing out a tune. âi like you! youâre lovely! very pretty, beautiful eyes! even nicer lips!â
  There was very few times Alistair ever enjoyed having the company of another person, and drinking in a tavern wasnât one of them. He had tried to moved Moira along when she had sat down, however, when she had refused to leave him alone, Alistair had taken to shoving endless amounts of alcohol her way in an attempt to knock her out so that he could continue the rest of his night in peace.
  Alistair let out a small chuckle at her words, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his grog as he did. âYa might want to think that one through some more, lassâ Alistair said, a smirk making itâs way onto his face. âBecause if thatâs the case, youâd be comparing your ma to goatâÂ
âyou shut your mouth ya sheep fucker!â with an unholy strength, she hurled the partially empty cup of piss ale at the man. âmy ma was a god damned saint, a queen among men! The god damned fairies themselves proclaimed her queen of beauty, and just because you had good taste one time doesnâ mean you donât fuck goats âstead of goinâ to church!â not that moira had been to church since she was a small girl. hard to develop a sense of religion when the rest of the townsfolk refused her and her ma entry most times. with an irritated huff, moira grabbed a pint from a nearby table, winking at the confused man whom had been drinking from it earlier. draining it in one go, she hurled the empty glass, aiming for the spot between her âfatherâsâ legs.
âthatâs not even mine, what youâve just had,â kane liesâor half lies. technically it is his drink, something a client bought for him not that long ago, as if this piss-poor excuse for alcohol was going to bribe him into extending the due date for paying off a debt. the man left after a few threats of losing a finger but forgot to take the ale with him and kaneâs definitely not touching it; over his dead body. he should probably lower his standards, considering the kind of place this is. âplease, people say worse things about me. get in line,â he waves the comment off; he looks into his cup, depressingly empty, but doesnât wave the barmaid down yet. itâs still too early for him to drink himself into oblivion; who wouldâve though, kane pacing himself for once. unlike the girl, it seems. âyou look like you can barely fucking stand. iâm not getting you anything. better get to writing,â he chuckles.
âwell whoeverâs it was-â she leans back, hands cupping her mouth to make sure her words could be heard over the crowd. âthe only reason you donâ know who your da is is because your ma worked on a farm!â the crowd roared with her energy and moira beamed at the attention. âawww, love, donât you listen to them! youâre rather very pretty,â she winked, waiving down a passing barmaid. âbeautiful, please, fill mine and my friends cups- goinâ to need somethinâ to wash that taste out of my mouth.â turning back to her new friend, moira sat herself in the chair across from him, adjusting her mandolin so it wouldnât dig into her back too much. ânow listen here, handsome. i grew up in places like this. iâve not even started drinking seriously, so donât you go thinking i need watchin. though, if you want to watch me for other reasons than patronizing me, i wonâ be opposed.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
      â a goat, huh ? well that surely spurs someone into buying you a drink.  â dark hues roll but thereâs humour in the curve of their lip.  â though, i must admit- iâm curious what youâd come up with.  â arms cross over a lithe chest, a brow raised in almost a challenge.Â
âwell, love- if yâ donât buy me a drink now, youâll forever be known as the goat-fucker. and trust me,â she leaned forwards, dumping the remainder of the drink on the lap of a nearby patron. âthat sort of name is goinâ to follow you around like a bad smell.â her eyes flicked down and crawled up their frame before settling on dark eyes. âno matter how pretty you are.â
sheâd been singing nearly the entire night, keeping spirits high and the alcohol flowing as people shrugged their worries off at the door. but even she needed to take a break, and luckily she was not wanting for something to drink. if her mum could see her now, sheâd be shaking her head as moira downed glasses of beer and ale in quick succession. her face screwed up at the strong taste of something that definitely wasnât beer.
âyeergh- that taste like shit! you owe me somethinâ tasty now âr iâll make song âbout how your cock doesnât get up for anyone but a goat.â
đ [ Saoirse Ronan | Cis Female | she/her | 20 ] đ hoist the black! MOIRA, the MUSICIAN, has arrived in nassau. the whispers in the square say that theyâre allied with NEUTRAL and FRIENDLY, but can also be AGGRESSIVE. that is, unless you threaten HER PENDANT. beware the black spot.
From a young age, moira was surrounded by music. Her little village in Ireland lay on the coast, filled with fishermen who spent their evenings in the tavern her mother, Aine, worked in. they would sing shanties and songs until late in the evening, unintentionally singing the little girl to sleep as her mother earned enough money to keep a roof over their head.
On the rare night that moiraâs mother wasnât working, she and moira would take a blanket and sit by the docks, watching the gulls and waves as moira listened to stories about her father, the brave and dashing sailor who swept into town and left Aine with nought but a pendant carved by his hands and a child in her belly. Both of which she kept close to her heart where Aine said he would forever live.
All moira wanted was for her father to come back. She dreamed he would show up, a captain of his own ship, and take moira and her mother away from the village, the tavern, and all the hard nights working. But as she grew, those dreams faded, her heart hardening against the man who left her mother alone with a child in her belly.
When moira was eleven her mother met and soon married Cillian, a farmer from a few towns over who had moved to their small village. The village had cautioned him against marrying Aine, having never truly gotten over the fact that Aine had had a child out of wedlock with a passing sailor, but Cillian was a kind man and opened his heart to the girl who wasnât looking for a father.
Things certainly became easier with Cillian in their lives, and Moira grew to idolize the man in the way she had once idolized her fictional father. It was Cillian who taught her to play the mandolin, something his father had taught him when he was just a child. She had already gathered a rather impressive collection of songs, but with the skills of playing an instrument, Moira took to earning coin in the tavern, playing music for villagers who had once spit upon her existence.Â
Life was well for many years, but soon Cillian and Aine fell ill after a particularly harsh winter. Moira had managed to avoid the illness, but with her parents unable to work, she took up all tasks around the house and continued to work in the tavern. A doctor lived in the next town over, and if she could just save up enough money, perhaps he would be able to heal her parents.
And earn enough money she did, but perhaps a few days too late as Cillian succumbed to the fever in the middle of the night while Moira performed in the tavern. But she pressed on, leaving her mother in the hands of a trusted neighbor and traveling to the next town to hire the doctor.Â
But all of her money and time was for nothing as the doctor was unable to do much for her mother. Moira buried her mother next to Cillian.
She couldnât stay in the farm house she had lived in with her parents. She also couldnât stand to enter the tavern her mother had worked in. The only place in the village she could find any peace in was the docks, watching the gulls and the waves. It was there that she realized why she had been spared the sickness. She had someone she needed to find. Someone she could take her anger out on. Someone who had never loved her mother the way her mother had loved him.
So she grabbed Cillianâs mandolin and the pendant her mother had so treasured, and Moira left the village with a name on her tongue.
Her search lasted for ages, but soon she found her way to Nassau, somewhere she had heard a man who matched the vague description she had of her father often frequented.
She was going to find this Alistair her mother had loved. What she would do when she found him- she didnât know. But she was going to find him no matter what.