[ She turns her head slightly to glance at him once more, her starry eyes widened in disbelief. Sometimes Winter... has a way of saying things to her that she hadn't even realized she needed to hear, and this is one of those moments. ]
Hah... I appreciate it, Winter.
[ her lips curl into a fond little smile, though because she can't help but deflect with attempted humor, she adds: ]
You're not angling for a company discount, are you? I'm afraid I have no domain over that at the moment!
[ Winter may be a thief and a liar, but he can be quite genuine when he feels he needs to be. Whatever comes easiest in the moment, and with Sumina, he's always at his most genuine. She brings it out in him, but more than that, he thinks that there are some things she needs to hear. ]
Please, Sumina. If I wanted to butter you up, I'd have laid on the compliments a long time ago.
[ He simply raises his eyebrows in response. The tattoo around his neck slides over his skin, uncoiling itself slightly to slide up his cheek instead. There, it pulls away from him entirely, gaining new form and dimension, and the flickering light of distant stars in that inky black.
[ Oh. Well. She's seen a lot of things in her decade-long career as innkeeper, but this is definitely... new, and one-of-a-kind. She tips her head curiously, her own flickering light of stars in her eyes following the movement of his tattoo, watching as ink moves across his skin and then out of it, taking a very three-dimensional shape indeed.
[ She startles a little, at its frigid and slippery feel around her finger.
Without really thinking, her hand moves, and the rest of her fingers curl around the tendril in turn, giving it something that resembles a handshake. ]
Are you controlling this, Winter? Or is it an extension of your patron's will...?
Ah, well, it was a while ago, and frankly it's easier to laugh about it now.
[ Sometimes one has to laugh so as to keep from crying, but in Winter's case, it's more that he's made some measure of peace with that day. The man who did it to him is long dead and gone, never to harm him or anyone else again. ]
I'm not in any pain, no. I frankly don't know what my patron did to me that day to seal my wound and save my life, but some of them mixed with some of me, and now here I am with a whole set of new arms.
[ The tendril around her wrist wriggles a little. ]
[ But Winter does sound as if he's at peace with what happened, or at least at peace enough for the tone of voice he uses, so she ultimately relents.
She must, anyhow, as the movement of his tendril does startle her back into awareness. With a tentative touch, she curls her other hand over what is coiled around her wrist.]
I suppose as long as your pact isn't causing you harm, that's enough for a humble innkeeper like myself.
My cavalier attitude probably isn't helping that fact, is it?
[ He does look a bit apologetic. Those close to him already know this story, and have known it for years. But he has to remind himself that for Sumina, it's new. And more than that, she doesn't live the kind of life he does. Danger is not a normal occurrence for her, outside of the odd tavern brawl.
The tenacle slips away under her touch, sliding free of her grip, but only so that Winter's own hands can replace it. He takes her hands in his own, much larger ones. In part so he can quietly Prestidigitation away the bit of film left on her skin, but more so because he wants to ground her in this moment. ]
You care very much about all your patrons, don't you?
[ An unknowable feeling sinks into her chest and tightens it, but as it is, there's no telling whether she feels this way because of the way Winter grasps her smaller hands in his, or because of the question he asks thereafter.
...She nods, while her gaze all the while stays fixed on their joined hands. ]
I try to remember everyone's names and their occupation, at the very least. Then, what they enjoy to eat and drink. Where they've been, where they're off to next. Who they travel with.
You go above and beyond so often, you know that? I often find myself in awe of just how much you give to your work, but then again perhaps that's why you're here.
[ She nods when given his permission, but needs a few more moments to think of how she should speak of this. Somehow, it's so much easier when someone prompts her for this information, but for her to simply offer it up without real reason—
Well, no, there is a real reason. She wants Winter to know about these things... ]
Nothing I say is... a secret, exactly, but it's not something I've often talked about, especially at the inn, and especially to guests.
[ A deep breath. NPC dialogue cutscene time. ]
...You know, of course, how long-lived elves are. Astral elves especially, given the amount of time they might spend in the Astral Plane, where time doesn't pass. My family has always been a bit of an outlier even among their people, given how much time we tend to spend outside of the silvery void. But still...
Normally, the inn changes hands every decade. For elves, a stint at the inn for that long is rather short indeed, yes? But for people like us, Winter... we won't live as long. And I've just completed my tenth year...
[ In so saying, the real reason her family had been so adamant about her taking a break... is because her time is up. ]
Not... In those words, no, but I think we all understood, inherently. It's just—
[ She closes her eyes. ]
Time works differently for us, doesn't it? Spending the next ten years doing something else might not feel like such an ordeal for my relatives, but... I could work ten, twenty, thirty years or even more before I would ever want to take such an extended break...
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Hah... I appreciate it, Winter.
[ her lips curl into a fond little smile, though because she can't help but deflect with attempted humor, she adds: ]
You're not angling for a company discount, are you? I'm afraid I have no domain over that at the moment!
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Please, Sumina. If I wanted to butter you up, I'd have laid on the compliments a long time ago.
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[ She is well-aware of the way he uses butter. And also tentacles, apparently. ]
What else does your patron think about the inn? Tell me everything.
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[ She does not need to know the finer details of octopus yelp for now!! ]
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Are we? I was wondering about it, since I'd never seen you do anything that... Well, tentacley, for lack of a better word. Certainly not at the inn.
And now I have my answer. But you're making me wonder if there's much more to it than that...
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It waves at her. ]
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...She waves back. ]
All right. I am a little curious...
[ Can... she poke it. ]
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You can touch it if you want.
[ So saying, that tendril reaches for her in turn. She'll find it's cool to the touch... and a little slimy. It wraps itself around her finger. ]
:flurshed:
[ She startles a little, at its frigid and slippery feel around her finger.
Without really thinking, her hand moves, and the rest of her fingers curl around the tendril in turn, giving it something that resembles a handshake. ]
Are you controlling this, Winter? Or is it an extension of your patron's will...?
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[ It slithers through her grip to wrap loosely around her wrist. ]
Your hand is quite warm.
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I-Is it? Your. Um. Tentacle is quite cold.
[ help, though. what a sentence. ]
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They are. I don't know why that is. Perhaps in deference to my name.
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Perhaps, or maybe they're from a particularly frigid sector of the astral sea, and that's reflected through this...
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It's quite possible. I was... sort of dying at the time so I cannot fully remember what it felt like to get these marks.
[ He's so casual about it??? ]
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You say that so casually...
[ So many of them do. So many adventurers walking through her doors having narrowly escaped death, as if it were as natural as breathing. ]
It doesn't... Hurt, does it? To bear these marks.
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[ Sometimes one has to laugh so as to keep from crying, but in Winter's case, it's more that he's made some measure of peace with that day. The man who did it to him is long dead and gone, never to harm him or anyone else again. ]
I'm not in any pain, no. I frankly don't know what my patron did to me that day to seal my wound and save my life, but some of them mixed with some of me, and now here I am with a whole set of new arms.
[ The tendril around her wrist wriggles a little. ]
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[ But Winter does sound as if he's at peace with what happened, or at least at peace enough for the tone of voice he uses, so she ultimately relents.
She must, anyhow, as the movement of his tendril does startle her back into awareness. With a tentative touch, she curls her other hand over what is coiled around her wrist.]
I suppose as long as your pact isn't causing you harm, that's enough for a humble innkeeper like myself.
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[ He does look a bit apologetic. Those close to him already know this story, and have known it for years. But he has to remind himself that for Sumina, it's new. And more than that, she doesn't live the kind of life he does. Danger is not a normal occurrence for her, outside of the odd tavern brawl.
The tenacle slips away under her touch, sliding free of her grip, but only so that Winter's own hands can replace it. He takes her hands in his own, much larger ones. In part so he can quietly Prestidigitation away the bit of film left on her skin, but more so because he wants to ground her in this moment. ]
You care very much about all your patrons, don't you?
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...She nods, while her gaze all the while stays fixed on their joined hands. ]
I try to remember everyone's names and their occupation, at the very least. Then, what they enjoy to eat and drink. Where they've been, where they're off to next. Who they travel with.
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[ The mention of the reason for her being here stirs that feeling again, bidding her to curl her fingers tightly in his. ]
I'd like to tell you something, too, Winter. It has to do with why I'm here. Is that alright?
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Of course. You can tell me anything.
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Well, no, there is a real reason. She wants Winter to know about these things... ]
Nothing I say is... a secret, exactly, but it's not something I've often talked about, especially at the inn, and especially to guests.
[ A deep breath. NPC dialogue cutscene time. ]
...You know, of course, how long-lived elves are. Astral elves especially, given the amount of time they might spend in the Astral Plane, where time doesn't pass. My family has always been a bit of an outlier even among their people, given how much time we tend to spend outside of the silvery void. But still...
Normally, the inn changes hands every decade. For elves, a stint at the inn for that long is rather short indeed, yes? But for people like us, Winter... we won't live as long. And I've just completed my tenth year...
[ In so saying, the real reason her family had been so adamant about her taking a break... is because her time is up. ]
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Did they tell you as much? That you were being sent away because your time is over?
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[ She closes her eyes. ]
Time works differently for us, doesn't it? Spending the next ten years doing something else might not feel like such an ordeal for my relatives, but... I could work ten, twenty, thirty years or even more before I would ever want to take such an extended break...
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