casual sexism


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn


Loc sits by the fire pensively.

You hear a click as the door is locked from the other side.

Colin is quietly sitting in a corner, whittling absently at a piece of wood.

Loc looks over to the door.

Lanisen is flopped on the bed, since nobody else apparently claimed it. His expression is moody and distant.
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questions


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn


Lanisen is sniffing absently at the dried flowers in the vase. He jerks his head back a moment later and sneezes violently – apparently it’s hard to dust things with petals.

Colin glances over at him, his expression conveying mild bemusement.

Lanisen wipes his nose and pauses, his face screwed up into the expression you get when you’re just about to sneeze but can’t quite manage it. He taps his foot, then sneezes again several times in quick succession. “What?” he demands when he can talk again.

Colin smirks slightly. “Done yet?”
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knight and day


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn


Colin sits on the window ledge of the room, peering out over the trees. He has a scrap of paper and is writing something on it.

The door opens, and Lanisen is escorted through by a servant with a no-nonsense expression on his face. The servant slips back out through the door, and a moment later you hear the lock click again. Lanisen stands silently where he is for a moment, then turns to sit in his usual place against the wall by the fire, drawing up his knees. His hands are still bound, but he tucks them into his lap to hide this.

Colin folds his scrap of paper and slips it into a pocket. He observes Lanisen’s tied hands with a frown, and watches him for a moment. “How did that go?”

Lanisen glances briefly at Colin and shrugs. His expression is strained and distant, and he looks exhausted.
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won’t be taken in


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn


Lanisen pokes absently at the embers in the fireplace, more out of boredom than because the room is actually cold.

Loc is curled up on the floor, covered by the blanket he’s using.

Lanisen lifts a smallish log out of the wire basket next to the hearth and tosses it into the fireplace, resulting in a small shower of sparks. One catches him on the hand and he jerks it back with a hiss of pain. “Blast it!”
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from a clear blue sky


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn


Lanisen is laying on his stomach on the floor beneath the window, his head on his arms. He has been in this position for quite some time and might be thought to be asleep, but it is unbearably muggy – the just-before-a-storm sort of oppressive humidity – and he eventually rolls over onto his back to watch the silent lightning through the window. In the faint light, his forehead is shiny with sweat.

Colin is sitting on the bed with legs crossed. He quietly sifts through a couple pieces of battered parchment.
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teach a man to steal


Room 7


You stand in a small but comfortably furnished private room of the Inn. The bed is made neatly with a plain but pleasant quilt, and several blankets can be found in a small trunk at the foot of the bed, should the room grow cold. There is a lit fireplace in one wall. A window looks out westward, revealing a pleasant portrait of the road out in front of the inn. A nightstand sits beside the bed, and a washstand beneath the window. There is a vase of dried flowers beside the pitcher and bowl on the wash stand. A woven rug by the door completes the cozy effect of the room.


Lanisen sits silently against the wall next to the fireplace. His arms rest on his knees, and the uneaten bowl of stew – probably cold by now – is on the floor next to him. The sleep he took earlier hasn’t done him much good, if the dark shadows under his eyes are any indication.

Colin looks equally weary, and is rather grumpy from the sheer boredom of staying in the same room for hours.
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false start


Room 7
Sun and Moon Inn
Lancelyn Green


You stand in a small but comfortably furnished private room of the Inn. The bed is made neatly with a plain but pleasant quilt, and several blankets can be found in a small trunk at the foot of the bed, should the room grow cold. There is a lit fireplace in one wall. A window looks out westward, revealing a pleasant portrait of the road out in front of the inn. A nightstand sits beside the bed, and a washstand beneath the window. There is a vase of dried flowers beside the pitcher and bowl on the wash stand. A woven rug by the door completes the cozy effect of the room.


Loc paces in front of the window, pausing occasionally to look out. His brow is knitted and his features grave.

Astor unlocks the door hesitantly, peeking in to make sure he isn’t ambushed.

Simetra follows him, looking rather displeased to be there.
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your move


Hostel


Loc lies on his cot, staring at the ceiling.

Lanisen sits cross-legged on his cot, propping up his chin with one hand. He appears to be playing a game of Foxes and Wolves with himself, using eight pebbles of vaguely similar shape and hue.

Loc turns his head to watch Lanisen.
Loc asks, “Having fun?”

Lanisen mms, squinting at the “board”. He sighs and sweeps the pebbles into an untidy pile, evidently irritated with his losing self. Or his winning self. Hard to tell. “I can’t stand this waitin’,” he mutters.
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rakish


Hostel


Lanisen has gotten rid of the (cumbersome, itchy, irritating) bandage on his neck and is examining the half-healed wound on his neck with morbid interest. “Think it’ll make a good scar?” he asks the room in general.

Loc has his eyes closed, making use of the cot. He smiles faintly, “You’re still a moron Lanny.” The remark is more brotherly than degrading.
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