Wyxt is glum tonight. It doesn't have anything to do with eggs... the Pirate Queen barely cared about the holiday in the first place and certainly hasn't celebrated it before. Her peculiar mood is hard to explain or place. While dark red eyes are clearly faintly narrowed, grumpy even, the rest of her face is rather expressionless, glossy blue lips pressed into a flat line not unlike her small shardling, Effete's, preferred look. Clad in a shimmery white robe of moon cloth, sleeveless, that hugs her ample curves and even clings to her hips, Wyxt strides into the tavern, and the half-troll heads, immediately, straight towards the bar itself, rolling, weaving hips carrying her halfway there before the door even thuds closed.
Wyxt does not move to sit behind the bar, quite certain that the goblin there can handle service just fine. Peering out from under the snout of that dragonhead shaped helmet, Wyxt pays no heed to the few glances her way as hands come to rest on the bar top, and hips shift to place ample rump on one of the stools. Breasts brush against the wood lightly as she slips onto her seat, and she nods to the bartender on duty. "I'll jus' be 'avin' m' rum. Jus' gimme da bottle, we got more in da stores." Wyxt mumbles, only somewhat audible as elbows come to rest on the bar top, along with a good deal of moon cloth bound breast flesh, and Wyxt simply watches the tender fetching her drink.
Kat peered out from from under her cloak at the new arrival, noticing that she was totally at ease. She must have been to this inn before. Kat had just arrived there herself and was helping herself to some blood thistle, thus the need for the cloak hiding her appearance. Viserya gestures a small greeting to Wyxt, from her end of the bar, her nursing her very large mug of Thunderbrew, this being her what, 5th? 6th? She couldn't really remember at this point
Wyxt has nothing against blood thistle addicts or against human rogues. She hasn't met Viserya though. The small gesture from the rogue draws a look from the corners of Wyxt's eyes even as hands pluck up her bottle of rum, and one finger idly taps a tusk. Her head dips, a faint nod, and two fingers come up in a casual wave, before she looks down to the bottle before her quietly.
Viserya sighs and lets out a loud, rude belch, not bothering to cover her mouth this time, as she downs the rest of her lager. Ordering another one, as she turns back to the Half-Troll. "Rough day?"
Wyxt frowns crossly at the sound of the belch, which is, apparently, something that does not sit well with the moon cloth-bound lass. She takes her time to reply, digging one tiny but clearly sharp tusk into the side of the cork to scoop it surprisingly neatly out of the bottle, and eyes close as she inhales the scent of liquor. Then, murmured... "Jus' long."
Viserya gives a small nod of understanding, having experienced her own share of long days. Her next drink arrives, which she promptly pays for, and begins to gulp down, a bit more quietly this time, as she had noticed the displeased frown on the Half Troll's face, and didn't wish to do it again. "Could be worse hm? At least you're not naked in a dungeon somewhere"
Wyxt opens her eyes at that, to stare blankly at the bottles across the way. ...Naked in a dungeon somewhere? "...'ow would dat be bett'r?" ...This is the Lube and Booty, after all. If she were naked in a dungeon somewhere, it most likely would mean she was in a much better mood, REGARDLESS of how she ended up naked.
Kat looks up at the sound of conversation, her long ears perking up out of her cloak as well. She stares at the troll and the human, an odd pair to be talking to each other, what with the animosity between the Horde and the Alliance. She shrugs it off but continues to listen to their conversation intently.
Viserya shrugs "Well just try and cheer up huh? A frown doesn't sit well on your pretty face, a smile would grace it much better, I think." *a bright red blush lies across the bridge of her nose, and under her eyes, indicating she's a bit intoxicated by now, and has obviously become fairly loose lipped in her drunkenness
Wyxt scowls now. "I wasn't frownin'." She didn't count flat lines as frowns. The troll nips at her rum, and closes her eyes, just wanting to sit at the bar and indulge in the warmth trickling down her throat tonight. She isn't sure why she's so bloody grumpy tonight, but the cheerful talk is not helping.
Viserya sighs and goes back to nursing her drink "Don't let tipsy little Vissy bother you sweetness. Just trying to bring a little light in to part those rainclouds floating over you!...hic!" *gives a small burp, which she covers with her mouth, and begins to giggle stupidly*
Wyxt sighs. The bottle is clicked against the bar, before the half-troll pushes away, and slips off of her stool with the faintest bounce to her form. "If'n y' need m' Sprocket, I'll be on da deck. ...Da porch I mean." She nods to the goblin lass behind the bar, then turns and heads for the door, thinking it might be a nice night to just stare at the sky for a while and booze.
Wyxt disappears out the door, and closes it quietly behind her with one hand, the bottle of rum pressed into her cleavage now as she gives a faint sigh. She just isn't in the right mood tonight. Maybe she should have spent her time killing night elves instead of looking inside eggs. ...Which reminds her. Sitting on the steps of the porch, Wyxt idly fishes in one of the few pockets of her robe, and plucks out a candy bar, which she idly begins to munch on while staring blankly at one of the bruisers across the way.
