<strong>Name</strong>: Jehanne (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=328118.msg15693755#msg15693755)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: At the Bar<br/><strong>Action</strong>:New friends and Old<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Leather armor vest (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dd/f6/7a/ddf67a56a0e7316a8ad438d06f7b42c0.jpg) and manica (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/70/aa/53/70aa53c439a5b67d9755e7c748bf2efe.jpg); leather pants and high boots; baldric and sword<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Spade; Lucy; Akihiro; Open<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Jehanne watched the dark-haired beauty flow in to greet the publican with a small grin.  Not to the girl's taste, she knew she was, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the view. It was that sort of thing that gave the ageless warrior a reason to live. Assuming she had a choice, which it seemed she didn't.<br/><br/>"All innkeepers are thieves," she quipped to Spade, once the singer had embraced the owner. Her accent hinted at crowded streets, smelly market stalls, tottering slum buildings. At times she had flashes of memory: docks, tall ships; the smell of pitch and oil; the rough voices of sailors and marines and whalers. Not a clue was left to her, though, if it was the place she came from or simply one more world she'd passed through, leaving blood and misery in her wake. "But a'least it's an honest thievery. Not like the sort I just come from treatin' with."<br/><br/>Smile wider and darker, she saluted Aluciel with her mug. "Lucy, m'dearie. Wouldn't think it possible for ye to get more lovely, yet every time I return, there you are." She'd look better skint of her clothes, but alas, wasn't in the cards. Not for Jeh', at least.<br/><br/>And while she'd been politely leering, singer and 'keeper had been talking about- a vampire?  Some new hire? Oh, and here the lad came his own self, pretty enough to steal her eyes from Luce, at least for a blink or two. It appeared the singer felt about the same, at least until she made her fare-thee-well to Spade and rabbited. Which was fine by Jehanne. It let her focus all her attention on the lovely lad for a bit. Not that she herself was in quite the right form to be company, weary and befouled as she was.  But there was always later. Hopefully.<br/><br/>"Well, well," the swordmistress murmured to herself- as much as she ever murmured, or  her voice was ever low enough to be private. Flashing a wink at Spade, she mouthed, 'whoremaster,' then buried her grin in her mug.<br/>