In-Character Forums > The Silver Buckle

Footsteps

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RollinsCat:
Slow. Measured. A scuff of flicked dust breaks the tap-tap of wooden heels; a shuffle here, a pause there. The fleshy whisper of fingertips across oak. Another seven steps, each holding back just a little.

The sound of a drum - not full, no reverberation, just a tap that fills the space around it like a pebble in a pool. A gentle thump, and the whuff of cloth.

Then, silence but for a shiver of wheezing.

davidhoff:
*Griff bursts in the front doors atop his faithful but muddy Warpony.  The sweaty and frothing pony sneezes a sizable pile of something on the fine wood floors.  Griff eyes the telportal briefly "Ah good Singer got it work'n again...maybe they got some cold ales around tee!"*

cbnicholson:
A piece of shadow slides from a nearby alley and quickly ascends to a window, a few moments later the faintest of footfalls is heard first in the kitchens then approaches, "Boss?" muffled around a mouthful of somewhat stale piece of pie is heard.

RollinsCat:
The aged bard looks left from his perch on the stage's edge, squinting - his spectacles have gone missing - from under unruly bangs more smoke than shade. "Charlie." His quirky smile is etched in the corners of his mouth and around his eyes. "Things are quiet around here. Is that good or bad?"

cbnicholson:
An indifferent shrug, "Dunno, I've gone ta ground meself, was jest eyeballin a mark some fine upstandin gent with a big bag of....er a I was scouting the docks an saw some movement through yer window, had a way in an here I am. "He looks intently at a torn hangnail on his right index finger before squinting at Mister Andy and biting the offending bit off, " Ta be blunt as a shovel ta the face, it's neither good nor bad, it's nothin.. So um, what's brings ya back ta the Buckle? "

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