Dom(inique) Vela

“What can I say, I’m a busy lady,” Maeve said, amused, hefting her empty wine glass and trailing back through the room to the counter. “On the contrary I suppose, its just the same that the Lights.. unpredictability this year has lead some to the assumption that they should do whatever it takes to fatten their purse. To try their hand at fortune before it surely takes a supposed turn for the worse. At any rate I don’t think I’ve seen a soul come in that hasn’t paid their dues to the shrine over there,” she said with a pointed look to the item in question. It’s contents would certainly need a trip to the actual temple a far bit earlier than normal, she figured. 

“And I suppose that’s a fair enough apology,” she said, a teasing glint in her eyes as she fetched a bottle of her preferred red to fill up her glass. “Fair enough to avoid scrubbing down the privy, I’d say,” she smirked. “In all actuality though, I’ll pay you some to bus the tables here and there and help keep the coat & weapons check in order. An extra set of hands with that would be quite helpful.”

--

Dom followed silently, listening carefully to Maeve’s observations. He nodded, looking over his shoulder at the tables with the gamblers and drinkers, and then his eyes strayed towards the shrine. It was indeed almost spilling over with coin and small tokens of value. He laughed, a little sardonically, and muttered, “It’s almost poetic how they gamble with the God’s favor and then with the favor of the cards or dice.” He knew the draw of both, having given plenty to temples and shrines asking for forgiveness, and then spending more than he had to get just one more chance. “You should probably take that away soon before people start drinking too much and slip their hands into that trove.”

Dom brightened as Maeve turned back towards him, the titular wine glass delicately clasped in her hand. “You know I’m not below cleaning the shitter,” He quipped back, smiling. “But I would prefer the busing. Coats would be good as well, I could peek into people’s pockets, learn all their secrets.” He meant it only as a half joke: he was much too tempted at times to help himself the look into other elves personal lives.

Maeve’s eyes immediately snapped to the source of the loud shout of her name and gave the patron she’d been talking to a tired smile. “If you wouldn’t mind dear - I’ll come find you later,” she said, an apologetic smile to her lips. The patron left, and it was then that Maeve turned a gaze with a smile that held the slightest chill to it towards the new elf. “Darling Dom, if you’re expecting me to give you a job at the drop of a pin you could do to refrain yourself from interrupting conversations and wait until I’m done conducting business, hm? And I’d really rather you not shout my name across the room, so frequently,” she said, teasing slightly, bringing her hand up to flick the back of Dom’s head. 

--

JUNIPER HAD CERTAINLY seen this person around town before, and she had heard of her penchant for taking up odd jobs here and there, but the two of them had had little reason to interact in the past. Was this fate’s way, then, of bringing two strangers together? All the same, she kept her head down as they each picked up after the mess, her intention to finish and go. It seemed, however, that her helper here was keen on discussing further. This had Juniper’s jaw tightening momentarily, but she supposed answering was another way of showing her thanks. “That’s yarrow. I’ve mullein and goldenrod here as well, among others. Most of these are for dyeing, but they have herbal and medicinal properties too.” She paused. “Thank you for your help.”

--

“Goldenrod,” Dominique muttered, looking at the flat, yellow flowers. She remembered it being used liberally for sprains and breaks, to help ease the swelling of joints in the rebel soldiers that would stop by her family’s home at the shore, served in cups of steaming broth. “Good for inflammation if I remember my herbs correctly.” She looked up briefly at the other elf’s face. “And mullein is good for fevers...” She paused, and something about the memory of her home, and of soldiers, brought forth the memory of a dark haired elf at the seashore. “Do... do I know you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. It felt like a tug on the back of her eyes, an image of a blurry face she couldn’t quite place right away swimming in front of the one in front her.

𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝟘𝟘𝟙 - moodboard

where: the den

who: open to anyone where: near the square when: nearing midday

RUFFIANS, THE LOT of them. 

Juniper had been on her way to a local herbalist with the intention of selling some things from her garden, when a small group of young elves, likely caught in some sort of game, had come running, jostling against her. Suffice to say, some of her herbs now lay on the ground, and while most of them remained usable, a few that had fallen by the wayside could no longer be salvaged. Juniper supposed they had been young enough to make being reckless seem like a normal thing to be, but they had also looked old enough that they ought to have felt guilt for leaving her to pick up after their mess. She remained quiet and did not mutter expletives under her breath like an old crone, but the irritation was clear on her face as she began to pick up some of the herbs and return them in her basket.

--

(keira knightley, 102, bigender) by the gods is that DOMINIQUE VELA? the locals say they’re ADVENTUROUS & RELAXED and APATHETIC & PETTY. SHE/HE is known for being a JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES/TREASURE HUNTER. word around the tavern is that THEY ROBBED THE GRAVES OF WAR VICTIMS, but you didn’t hear it from me.