05-18-2017, 09:43 PM
“Ugh, it feels like the trail has gone dry, do you see any wanted posters of him?” Cana asked her companion.
It was nearly nightfall and if this was like any city, things were about to get very different. Danger and magic weaved together in the air, Cana’s senses buzzed in and out with the new threats as though they were tangible. Cassandra didn’t speak, however she did mutter, when the sun was no longer above them, but hitting them powerfully from the side. The sunset was bright and orange and quite evidently uncomfortable, “Can we go inside for a drink or something?”
The mage smiled at the idea of beer in her stomach, “I thought you’d never ask.”
There was a tavern just one level of Minas Tirith’s structure down called “Tenny’s Best Booze,” (Cana desperately hoped it would live up to the name) it was built into the structurally sound brick walls of the tall, grand city and the door was a welcoming few slabs of wood, held together by a horizontal slab. Rather falling apart, but places like these always had the best liquor, plus, maybe the rough crowd inside had some answers about who they were looking for. Maybe they were in the right place after all.
The door entered with Cana’s two fingers, narrowly, she’d avoided the porcupining splinters shooting up from the shattered wood, while Cassandra passed her doorwoman, delighted to be inside away from the acid-like sunlight that seared her skin, the Fairy Tail mage followed with confidence in every step of her boot.
The interior was cozy, fit with wooden tables and chairs, smoke from cigars, cigarettes, and a small fire warming the place for the evening chill created a hazy, rather mysterious environment and reminded Cana just how thirsty she was. A refreshing drink should do the trick. The bar other than that, had a somewhat rough crowd of twenty shady looking men, the bartender was just as gruff, but he was shaking up drinks, had a coffin nail perched between his lips, and looked like he knew the lay of the land backwards and with his eyes closed. It wasn’t so bad. Rather cozy with a rough around the edges sort of charm.
Another step inside the extended bar and she was immediate pinned against the wall. A great, burly, hairy forearm met her throat and pinned her against the wall. Her eyes bulged while Cana choked, face becoming cherry-red and brimming with the terrorized sweat of suffocation. Her throat was being squished between stone-hard muscle and a brick wall, and the brick wall had started to give way.
“Hey, take it outside,” one guy at the bar said.
Another added, “Leave the lady alone, it’s no wonder we don’t get any women company in here. Tch.”
But no one stood up, no one interfered. No one had died, yet. What a friendly place they had here.
Cassandra had swooned with relief of the sunless room before she turned her head to see Cana was not right beside her, but pinned. She got a good view of the enemy, he was over six and a half feet tall, muscular and beefy and his clothes were like a lumberjack’s and his muscles threatened to burst out of them. Atop his head was some disheveled, greasy flame-colored hair, he had an unkempt beard. Grasped in his hand which was the size of Cana’s face, was a large, jagged knife, aimed at her stomach, pin-pricking the flame tattoo on her stomach.
“Let go of me, or I’ll make you.” Cana’s threat held in her eyes, there was a fire of blazen anger, magic was thrilling the waves of her hair, ferocity coiling on her lip. Again she felt the prick of the blade.
“The tattoo. Tell me where you got it, missy, NOW!” the unnamed man yelled in her face.
That was enough.
Cards flew out of Cana’s satchel and covered the man, pulling back his knife and pinning him in place like a mummy with immense force, her infuriated eyes narrowed while the man hoovered in place, even his face had been covered in cards, leaving a narrow slit. Cana’s arm extended while she cast a spell, “Divinity of the Cards: Bind!”
The cards returned to her while the man fell to the ground, wobbled on his stone-frozen feet, and fell face first into the hard stone. Nothing was hurt, as she’d frozen his body in the perpetuation of the moment prior, but his huge knife had fallen out of his grasp. Dealing with him had been a relief, and now he was out of the way, Cana left him on the ground and approached the bar next to her friend, catching some air in her still burning throat, “Now,” she smiled to the bartender, pride that she’d held her own in a bar with a crowd like this, “How about a drink?”
Roars of laughter and cheers erupted, flasks of ale and booze held up to the sky, as people laid down money for the bartender to serve her whatever she wanted. Which was perfect because Cana could pack it away. And did.
Glass after glass, she chugged, the boys and men in the bar had started to keep count, there was a record kept by Johnny knife-o over there, and she was getting close. Her face was flushed with red, it felt like forever ago since she’d had a good drink fill her up like this. Warm liquor flowed down her throat, and bartender Tenny Schmit got so tired of refilling her glass, he left the bottle of booze she was drinking and a keg full of beer for her to use as a chaser.
Cassandra seemed to be having fun too, laughing along with Cana as the mage told her some ridiculous story of a pink haired wizard named “Natsu” who’d tried to take on Gildarts and was flung into their grand hall’s fifty foot ceiling. “The place needed some repairs after that, let me tell you.”
A magnificent burp erupted from her fine looking lips, a slanted smile hung off of her mouth and finally she relaxed enough to take a little bit longer between each sip. The bartender smiled and apologized for the rude welcome, “Yeah, what was that all about?” Cana asked.
“Hard to tell, to be honest,” the man offered, “Never know what instigates a drunk man, ha! I just take their money and give em’ a safe place to slurp em’ down. So what brings you gals in here anyway?”
“Lookin’ for someone, wasn’t that guy though,” Cana smirked and looked down at him on the ground, she wasn’t really sure how long her spell would last, but she assumed it would last until she’d had her fill. Already her mind was brimming, she was relaxed, her body warm from the chilly breeze of the day, and her cheeks flushed. Still, she wasn’t drunk she always seemed to get the perfect buzz if she drank enough. Her hand picked up another glass and down the froth of beer went.
“Wow, you can really put em’ away, say, can I help you find who yer lookin’ for? Maybe I’ve seen him around if your search lead you this far,” the man was friendly enough, Cana looked him in the eye as though serious business was about to be conducted, like he’d crossed a line, then she giggled and laughed, sobriety was far from her.
“Sure thing, we’re kinda at a dead end anyway,” out of her pocket, she unraveled the wanted poster of the Fairy Tail wizard, Gildarts Clive. A hefty reward was marked below it, and well, it was a pretty good picture of her dad all and all. She let it sit there, let his eyes and mind absorb the features like a sponge and then asked, “So ya seen him?”
“I’m sorry to say I ain’t seen him…” He was buffing a newly cleaned glass with a clean rag and stopped mid-squeak, “Say, ain’t that the same tattoo you got? Lady, you know what they say about couple tattoos, jinxes the relationship, ya know?”
“Haha it isn’t like that old man,” she took another gulp, and a wave of realization hit her, “The Fairy Tail emblem! He’s seen it before!”
Cana had jumped out of the toppled wooden stool and onto her feet, Cassandra questioned, “Huh? Who has?”
But Cana was already standing over him, he was still facing the ground in his petrified state, she’d smirked with satisfaction, a fresh clue.
“Him.”
It was nearly nightfall and if this was like any city, things were about to get very different. Danger and magic weaved together in the air, Cana’s senses buzzed in and out with the new threats as though they were tangible. Cassandra didn’t speak, however she did mutter, when the sun was no longer above them, but hitting them powerfully from the side. The sunset was bright and orange and quite evidently uncomfortable, “Can we go inside for a drink or something?”
The mage smiled at the idea of beer in her stomach, “I thought you’d never ask.”
There was a tavern just one level of Minas Tirith’s structure down called “Tenny’s Best Booze,” (Cana desperately hoped it would live up to the name) it was built into the structurally sound brick walls of the tall, grand city and the door was a welcoming few slabs of wood, held together by a horizontal slab. Rather falling apart, but places like these always had the best liquor, plus, maybe the rough crowd inside had some answers about who they were looking for. Maybe they were in the right place after all.
The door entered with Cana’s two fingers, narrowly, she’d avoided the porcupining splinters shooting up from the shattered wood, while Cassandra passed her doorwoman, delighted to be inside away from the acid-like sunlight that seared her skin, the Fairy Tail mage followed with confidence in every step of her boot.
The interior was cozy, fit with wooden tables and chairs, smoke from cigars, cigarettes, and a small fire warming the place for the evening chill created a hazy, rather mysterious environment and reminded Cana just how thirsty she was. A refreshing drink should do the trick. The bar other than that, had a somewhat rough crowd of twenty shady looking men, the bartender was just as gruff, but he was shaking up drinks, had a coffin nail perched between his lips, and looked like he knew the lay of the land backwards and with his eyes closed. It wasn’t so bad. Rather cozy with a rough around the edges sort of charm.
Another step inside the extended bar and she was immediate pinned against the wall. A great, burly, hairy forearm met her throat and pinned her against the wall. Her eyes bulged while Cana choked, face becoming cherry-red and brimming with the terrorized sweat of suffocation. Her throat was being squished between stone-hard muscle and a brick wall, and the brick wall had started to give way.
“Hey, take it outside,” one guy at the bar said.
Another added, “Leave the lady alone, it’s no wonder we don’t get any women company in here. Tch.”
But no one stood up, no one interfered. No one had died, yet. What a friendly place they had here.
Cassandra had swooned with relief of the sunless room before she turned her head to see Cana was not right beside her, but pinned. She got a good view of the enemy, he was over six and a half feet tall, muscular and beefy and his clothes were like a lumberjack’s and his muscles threatened to burst out of them. Atop his head was some disheveled, greasy flame-colored hair, he had an unkempt beard. Grasped in his hand which was the size of Cana’s face, was a large, jagged knife, aimed at her stomach, pin-pricking the flame tattoo on her stomach.
“Let go of me, or I’ll make you.” Cana’s threat held in her eyes, there was a fire of blazen anger, magic was thrilling the waves of her hair, ferocity coiling on her lip. Again she felt the prick of the blade.
“The tattoo. Tell me where you got it, missy, NOW!” the unnamed man yelled in her face.
That was enough.
Cards flew out of Cana’s satchel and covered the man, pulling back his knife and pinning him in place like a mummy with immense force, her infuriated eyes narrowed while the man hoovered in place, even his face had been covered in cards, leaving a narrow slit. Cana’s arm extended while she cast a spell, “Divinity of the Cards: Bind!”
The cards returned to her while the man fell to the ground, wobbled on his stone-frozen feet, and fell face first into the hard stone. Nothing was hurt, as she’d frozen his body in the perpetuation of the moment prior, but his huge knife had fallen out of his grasp. Dealing with him had been a relief, and now he was out of the way, Cana left him on the ground and approached the bar next to her friend, catching some air in her still burning throat, “Now,” she smiled to the bartender, pride that she’d held her own in a bar with a crowd like this, “How about a drink?”
Roars of laughter and cheers erupted, flasks of ale and booze held up to the sky, as people laid down money for the bartender to serve her whatever she wanted. Which was perfect because Cana could pack it away. And did.
Glass after glass, she chugged, the boys and men in the bar had started to keep count, there was a record kept by Johnny knife-o over there, and she was getting close. Her face was flushed with red, it felt like forever ago since she’d had a good drink fill her up like this. Warm liquor flowed down her throat, and bartender Tenny Schmit got so tired of refilling her glass, he left the bottle of booze she was drinking and a keg full of beer for her to use as a chaser.
Cassandra seemed to be having fun too, laughing along with Cana as the mage told her some ridiculous story of a pink haired wizard named “Natsu” who’d tried to take on Gildarts and was flung into their grand hall’s fifty foot ceiling. “The place needed some repairs after that, let me tell you.”
A magnificent burp erupted from her fine looking lips, a slanted smile hung off of her mouth and finally she relaxed enough to take a little bit longer between each sip. The bartender smiled and apologized for the rude welcome, “Yeah, what was that all about?” Cana asked.
“Hard to tell, to be honest,” the man offered, “Never know what instigates a drunk man, ha! I just take their money and give em’ a safe place to slurp em’ down. So what brings you gals in here anyway?”
“Lookin’ for someone, wasn’t that guy though,” Cana smirked and looked down at him on the ground, she wasn’t really sure how long her spell would last, but she assumed it would last until she’d had her fill. Already her mind was brimming, she was relaxed, her body warm from the chilly breeze of the day, and her cheeks flushed. Still, she wasn’t drunk she always seemed to get the perfect buzz if she drank enough. Her hand picked up another glass and down the froth of beer went.
“Wow, you can really put em’ away, say, can I help you find who yer lookin’ for? Maybe I’ve seen him around if your search lead you this far,” the man was friendly enough, Cana looked him in the eye as though serious business was about to be conducted, like he’d crossed a line, then she giggled and laughed, sobriety was far from her.
“Sure thing, we’re kinda at a dead end anyway,” out of her pocket, she unraveled the wanted poster of the Fairy Tail wizard, Gildarts Clive. A hefty reward was marked below it, and well, it was a pretty good picture of her dad all and all. She let it sit there, let his eyes and mind absorb the features like a sponge and then asked, “So ya seen him?”
“I’m sorry to say I ain’t seen him…” He was buffing a newly cleaned glass with a clean rag and stopped mid-squeak, “Say, ain’t that the same tattoo you got? Lady, you know what they say about couple tattoos, jinxes the relationship, ya know?”
“Haha it isn’t like that old man,” she took another gulp, and a wave of realization hit her, “The Fairy Tail emblem! He’s seen it before!”
Cana had jumped out of the toppled wooden stool and onto her feet, Cassandra questioned, “Huh? Who has?”
But Cana was already standing over him, he was still facing the ground in his petrified state, she’d smirked with satisfaction, a fresh clue.
“Him.”
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus