Besmirched Honor

Stories of the those from House Dragoon Talanador, the Company of the Dragon and the Tavern itself.

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Locke DVestavio
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Besmirched Honor

Post by Locke DVestavio »

The carriage pulled up to the front of the Golden Ivy Tavern, and the driver opened the side door, letting one Locke D'Vestavio out. With a wide grin, the dapper ice-elf slipped the man his fare (and a little extra for the tip), before stepping onto the sidewalk. He tugged at the sleeves of his black suit, making sure the silver cuff links were still properly attached to the white dress shirt he was wearing underneath. One more adjustment, to the black and grey striped tie he was wearing, and he was off to the front door, stepping inside smoothly. He paused in the doorway, to take a quick look around. This was his sort of place! Swank, to be sure, but after his initial glance, he paid little attention to the furniture and details there. He headed up to the front desk, smiling all the while as he rang the bell. "Pardon me, but do you think you could direct me to Room 134? I have a...pressing engagement there."

In an out of the way place behind the counter Lina and Tara were conversing about something or another that likely had little to do with the business of the tavern and more to do with watching the stable boys at work. The bell, however caught both of their attentions, but when Lina saw just how dressed up Locke was, she took that as a sign the man had a good deal of money and was someone G'nort would want her to treat well. It was best she handle business with him, rather than Tara. After exchanging a few more brief words with her friend she flashed Locke a brilliant smile, contrasting with her lackluster brown eyes. "Good evening sir." Red curls bounced as she took up her spot behind the counter and pulled a ledger closer to start flipping through it. "Room 134 you said? Might I ask just what sort of pressing engagement this is in regards to?"

Locke met Lina's gaze with his own dark blue irises, matching the brightness in her smile. His words were playful, but had a slight edge to them. "Will you not tell me where the room is, if I do not say what I am planning on doing there? I assure you, it is nothing sordid or illegal." He held up his hands, clad in black lambskin leather gloves, as if to indicate a surrender.

Lina arched a brow at the sight of his gloves, simply because it seemed a peculiar thing to wear not only in such warm weather, but coupled with his other fine clothing. She didn't reply to him just yet though and merely went back to flipping through the ledger. After a moment more of searching she found what it was she was looking for and pressed a finger to the page to follow the line of a column. Lips moving silently as she read, she nodded some in affirmation before looking back up towards Locke. "Ms. Starr has it requested that we put any and all visitors through to see her. I will have Carter show you to her room." With an almost devilish grin, Lina turned aside and rang the bell a couple times. "Guildenstern!"

It wasn't long before a young bellhop was shuffling his way towards the front desk, looking mildly perturbed as he regarded Lina. He and Lewis were less than thrilled that the nicknames G'nort had coined for them decided to stick. "Guildenstern I need you to escort this gentleman to Ms. Starr's room." Lina gestured to Locke as she spoke.

He arched an ice-white brow at Lina, though whether it was because of the bellhop's nickname or the fact that he was actually being escorted to the room, who knew? He swept his arm in front of the lad. "Lead the way, mate." Before he started to follow, he preened a bit at the front desk, making sure his spiky hair was all in place, as well as playfully batting at his silver snowflake earrings. Before he stepped away from the desk, he winked at Lina. "Have a pleasant day, arwenamin." The last word rolled off his tongue, melodic and smooth.

Secretly, Carter was hoping that Locke had insulted Lina, but wasn't banking on such a fact. Chin up, long and proud strides carried Carter through the tavern and through various hallways. It didn't take terribly long for he and Locke to reach room 134, as it was on the first floor. Gesturing to it, Carter turned back to Locke. "Here you are. Have a pleasant eve sir." And in spite of his departing words he lingered, almost as if waiting for something.

Locke knew bellhops too well. He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out three of the silver coins that had been jangling around in there while he was walking. He waited until Carter had his hand out, before placing the slightly cold coins in the man's palm. "The same to you as well, mate." He waited until the bellhop was out of sight before he knocked on the door. His old, familiar, rhythmic knock, accompanied with the usual words. "Shave and a hair cut..."

For a moment after Locke's knock there was silence, before the vague sounds of movement and items being moved about could be heard from within the room. Not long after that the door was unlocked, handled turned, and door was pulled open enthusiastically by the pink haired vixen within. "Shampoo!"
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Locke DVestavio
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Post by Locke DVestavio »

Lesty's grin was positively cheeky and expression bright, in spite of the fact she wasn't very well made up at the moment. Her wet hair was up and confined in a lavender colored towel that matched her bathrobe- though the robe had a small white heart print all over it. The scent of apples and cinnamon was strong around her, wafting out of the room for sure. "Lockey!" Lesty clapped her hands together in absolute glee. "Hi!"

It was one thing to be angry with someone you had met briefly for an interview, who had then slagged you on multiple occasions behind your back in a newspaper. It was another thing to be face to face with that person when they had obviously just finished showering (or was she in the middle of it?). Neither frowning nor smiling seemed like an appropriate gesture at the moment, so Locke hid behind a slight smirk, looking up at the taller woman. "Evening, mate. It would seem I have caught you at a bad time, though. Shall I come back later when you are...less indisposed?" Sniff, sniff, at the smell of apples and cinnamon. She wasn't making this very easy for him...

"Indisposed? Don't be silly Lockey. I always have time for you or any of my fans." Her own smile was beaming, as if she were oblivious to his own lack of much facial expression. "You must come in." She sidestepped to allow more room for Locke to enter. "I was about to paint my nails. Perhaps I can paint yours too?" Suddenly stricken with the curiosity of what state Locke's nails were in Lesty reached down to grasp for one of his gloved hands.

Locke pulled his right hand away, the gesture less smooth than he intended for it to be. He did step inside though, taking a cursory glance at the room. Then, a sidelong look at Lesty. "Perhaps you should put on some clothing first? I have some serious business to discuss with you, mate." He tugged at his gloves, then smoothed the lapels of his coat. "As for the nails? I don't believe you could paint them, even if I wanted you to. Cold to the touch and all that malarkey. I would probably freeze the polish first."

There wasn't terribly much to her room. Her bed was in absolute disarray and sheets were wrinkled and unruly, perfume bottles were scattered over the dresser along with various lipsticks, nail polishes, and other miscellaneous makeup containers. On another table there were various sheets of paper scattered about with a pen, a small stack of the latest Gossip GangSTARs, and a box of half eaten chocolates. Periwinkle eyes grew wide and watery, the expression on her face wounded when Locke withdrew from her so quickly. When he stepped in, she shut the door, then blinked owlishly at him. "Cold? Then should I get you a blanket?" The pain in her expression seemed to vanish entirely as she smiled again. "I can get dressed. I like clothes. I have a lot of really nice outfits, but I should get some more soon. I don't want to go out of style." As she rambled on Lesty moved for the closet, sliding the door open. After sifting through the dresses inside she decided on one and without a bit of shame started to tug at her bathrobe to pull it off. Glancing over her shoulder in the process she spoke up again. "Did you want any chocolate?"

Locke's own dark blue eyes widened, as Lesty seemed about ready to change in front of him. Gentleman that he was, he turned away from the bed and the mess that Lesty had made of the room, towards the door. He held his conversation with her with his back turned, and arms folded. He kept telling himself that she had insulted him, besmirched his honor, but he was finding it hard to get to the point. "No, mate. I am cold naturally. Heat is not a terribly good thing for those such as me." He paused briefly. "Chocolates would be aces."

Bathrobe removed it fell to the ground about her feet, revealing that beneath it? She wasn't quite naked, no. Lesty was wearing a royal purple bikini decorated in rhinestones. A dark pink, near magenta, colored dress was pulled out of the closet and draped over her arm. "That doesn't sound like any fun at all Lockey." Turning around, the half eaten box of chocolates were snatched up and she started towards Locke, offering them over. "So that means you cannot enjoy hot springs?" Her eyes grew wide with sorrow. "Tragic... I just came from there. They are very lovely."

He was still turned the other way, missing the drop of the bathrobe and the revelation that she was wearing a bikini. He started a bit as she walked up to him, then realized she was dressed. Sort of. Once he had settled, his gloved right hand reached into the box, pulling out a truffle. He slipped the glove off his left hand, placing it in his pocket, before touching the candy with his eyes closed. Briefly, a cool breeze surrounded Locke, playing lightly with his clothing and hair, before his eyes snapped open and he popped the confection in his mouth. "Thank you most kindly, Lesty. And sadly? Alas, no, I cannot enjoy hot springs, though I have before. That is neither here nor there though." He turned, so that he was facing her directly. "Let's get down to brass, savvy?"
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Celestia Starr
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Post by Celestia Starr »

Since Lesty wasn't wearing terribly much when that cool breezed surrounded Locke she took a step back and away from him, wrinkling her nose a little. She had a lot more questions for Locke. About hot springs. About his magic. About whether or not she should paint her nails rose or coral. But all of that seemed to flutter out of her head when he seemed so dreadfully serious. Holding her dress close, she took another step back to sit down on her bed, peering up at Locke with unblinking periwinkles.

He put his hands on his hips, his stance slightly akimbo, as he addressed Lesty with his...concerns. Direct, blunt, and to the point, as usual for Locke. "I read some of the things you said about me, that...dueling tabloid or whatever. I don't appreciate being made the butt of everybody's jokes, savvy? I want you to print a retraction and a public apology to me for the insulting words that you wrote." He glanced down at her, seriousness burning in blue irises.

There was a genuine confusion in Lesty's eyes as she raised a hand to press it to her chest. "I have insulted you Lockey? I do not insult people. If I have I would most certainly apologize for it but I cannot recall a time I have ever insulted you..."

He straightened up a little, and almost looked like he was reading from a script. It had taken him a loooong time to memorize what he was about to say, and it was evident by the vocal pauses he made here and there. "Let's see. Um, well...there was the article in which you said I was your least favorite duelist, and that I couldn't cut my way out of a bloody paper bag. Um, or your reference to 'Locke-syndrome'. That ring any hairs?"

After a moment of regarding Locke with the utmost care Lesty started to sputter, and that soon gave way to quiet tittering she tried to hide behind her hand. She just couldn't contain herself though and had to laugh out loud at his words, then wiped at her eyes. "Oh Lockey... is that why you are so upset?" She snickered quietly but managed to contain herself this time.

His face fell, as she appeared to be...laughing at him? He flounced a little bit, hands still on his hips. "You think that's bloody humorous, mate? I take my dueling very seriously, and to have someone who probably wouldn't know the business end of a sword if it poked them in the arse smear my good name with those-those slanderous lies? I cannot and will not stand for it. Now, I ask you again. Will you, or will you not, apologize for what you have written?"

Shaking her head some, Lesty chuckled once more as she rose to her feet, dress abandoned on the bed. Approaching Locke she tried to meet his gaze with her own which seemed sincere, sympathetic, and perhaps even apologetic? "Lockey... I am very sorry for how poorly you did in the tournament, and how poorly you are faring in swords at the moment." She paused to press her hand to her chest again. "But it is not my fault that you choked in your duel with Xeric."

There were notes of condescension and anger in his voice, as he replied to Lesty's comment. "If you had done your fact-checking, like any journalist with a modicum of talent would have, you would have interviewed me after my defeat, and discovered that I had been battling a particularly vicious case of heat poisoning the week prior to my ruck with Xeric. I was ill, and could not practice. That is why I lost."

"Alright." Spoken matter of factly, Lesty straightened a touch. "What about your poor performance in the Panther's Claw and losing to Kaylin Rumblegutter? Was that a case of you being ill as well? Have you been ill the entire time you have fought in swords? Does that explain your rank?"

When she approached, Locke had to remember he was angry. Don't...look...down. He clenched his teeth, more for concentration, although that made him look angrier still. "I burnt my hands the day before. I could barely make a fist, let alone throw a solid punch. That is why I lost that fight, mate." He folded his arms and tried to stand a little taller, though the gesture was futile in the face of the much taller woman in front of him.

"Okay." Shrugging, Lesty laughed lightly, then waved a hand about dismissively. "Be that as it may Lockey, I shall not be writing a retraction or apology anytime soon. If you were ill or injured you had no business fighting, since you couldn't put forth your very best."

He looked like he was about to huff and puff. "Unacceptable mate. If you don't publish a retraction, while-while I'll-" Frustration and rage prevented him from fully articulating his threat.

Lesty's face scrunched up a little. Was she worried? Frightened? She did withdraw from Locke, ever so slightly. "You'll what?"

"I will be forced to challenge you to a duel. Cards on the table, mate. Apologize, or not?" He looked a bit too smug, as she backed away from him.
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Celestia Starr
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Post by Celestia Starr »

Periwinkles blinked rapidly before she chuckled. "That's silly. You can't challenge me. And when it comes to cards they are always drawn in my favor." She nodded, something sagely and serious about it. "So I will not be apologizing for your performance. I will not retract my words. Next time if you are hurt you will know better than to duel, yes?" Stepping forward and past Locke she went about looking over the various nail polishes set out on her dresser.

As she stepped past him, Locke slipped the glove off of his left hand. He approached Lesty at the dresser, waiting until she had turned around to face him once more. He stepped in close then, and, with his left hand, dragged the cold leather across her face. He smirked, as he stepped back a little bit, though still quite clearly too close inside her personal space. "I can, and I have. Now what are you going to do about it, mate?" Once he was finished speaking, he slipped the glove back onto his bare blue hand.

Reaching up, Lesty touched her cheek where he had just dragged the cold leather across her face, scrunching up her nose at the unpleasantness of it. Her gaze seemed far off, and she seemed to be in rather deep thought, a rarity for her. After a few long moments periwinkles shifted to meet Locke's gaze as she scrutinized him with curiosity. "That must make kissing hard." It was as if his threat didn't really register. "If I kissed you would it be like kissing a block of ice?" Her tone seemed more of genuine thought and curiosity rather than mocking.

He looked extremely irritated, both at the comment about kissing and the fact that she was ignoring his conversation. "It does make snogging rather difficult. And if you decided to kiss me, our lips would most likely freeze together. And it is rather...unpleasant to fix that. Wait-did you even hear a bloody word I said?"

"Oh, yes, I did." Lesty nodded, furrowing her brows together in utmost seriousness as she tried to recall his words. "Challenging me, yes? I do not like fighting." And then? Two nail polish bottles were held up so she could display them to Locke. "Do you like rose or coral more?"

He stepped back a little, then, suddenly remembering something. "And I do not enjoy rucking with ladies. Though I find I must do that on occasion over at the Duels. Perhaps we can come up with another way for you to defend your honor, since you seem unwilling to give me what I want." He paused, speaking the words as a distracted aside. "Coral."

Giggling, she set the bottle of rose colored polish down, then started to open up the bottle of coral. "I have no need to defend my honor Lockey. I have done nothing to embarrass myself." Bottle opened, the scent of the polish mixed with the scent of apples and cinnamon creating a very unique and not entirely pleasant smell in the air, though it was subtle. Crossing back over to her bed, she plopped down to sit and proceeded to paint her nails.

He started rubbing his blue temples, frustrated at her unwillingness to deal with his displeasure. He raised his voice as he watched her paint her nails. "You have insulted me. No one insults me and gets away with it. Now, I have a suggestion. Something from the old days of RhyDin. Would you like to hear it? Or are you just going to forget it 10 seconds after I say it?" He sighed an exasperated sigh.

Pausing, she let out an exasperated sigh of her own, then set the polish aside. Hands held carefully so as to not smudge the couple of fingernails she had done already. Lifting her gaze towards Locke, she seemed to be struggling to actually look at him and not past him. "I am listening." One might have to question the validity of that statement.

Locke shuffled his feet in place, before continuing. "In olden days of yore, long, long ago, blokes and birds of all shapes and sizes would fight various sorts of duels. Slave Matches, Release Matches, Death Matches." Before she could express concern, he waved her off. "Now I am not suggesting we engage in any of those sordidities. I do not want to kill you, nor do I wish to enslave you. Rather, I wish to have an Honor Match with you. Now, I know that you are a pacifist at heart and will not fight me directly. However, you could easily have someone else ruck your ruck for you, savvy? It matters not to me. If I beat the person you select to face me, you apologize to me, in public and in print." A bit fidgety, he started to bat at his snowflake earrings.

As Locke spoke, Lesty's gaze did wander a little, almost as if following invisible specks of dust wafting about the air between them. It was likely she didn't actually catch every detail from Locke, and only select few. Clapping her hands together (having already forgotten about her new coat of nail polish) Lesty's periwinkle eyes were wide and starry as she gushed. "That sounds ever so divine! I could have someone fight for my honor! A knight.. a champion! Fighting for me!" She grinned and giggled, obviously excited about such an idea.

He shook his head, before waving his hand at the air dismissively. "Yes. A knight, or a champion, or whatever you wish to call it. Wait...you know typically, both sides have a wager in this sort of thing. What is it you wish of me, if I should lose? Not that I will, of course.." Locke straightened up, puffing his chest out proudly.

"Oh.. something I want?" Lesty had to think for... quite a while on that one. Several minutes at the very least, before the light bulb went off. Nose wrinkled as she giggled, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she pointed at Locke. "You have to admit that I was right in print, and that you are terrible and cannot fight your way out of a paper bag."

At first, he just stared at Lesty. Then, as seconds turned into minutes, he started tapping his foot impatiently on the floor to the room. Finally, though, she answered. It took considerably less time for Locke to reply. "Fair enough. I win, you apologize for saying I was a bad duelist and can't fight my way out of a paper bag. Your champion wins, and I will say that I am terrible and cannot fight my way out of a paper bag. Anything else, or does that sound about square to you?"

In response to that Lesty simply grinned broadly to Locke and held up her hands, using her fingers to form the shape of a square.

With Lesty's gesture, he just sighed and shook his head. "I suppose I will be seeing you around, then. Choose well, mate. I will not be showing my opponent any mercy or quarter." He turned away from the bed, and began to walk for the door.

"Okay, you have a very nice evening Lockey!" Lesty waved to him from her spot on the bed, but didn't move to get up. Instead, her attention shifted again and she grabbed up her nail polish, pouting as she saw that the two nails she had already painted were already ruined...

Locke waved at Lesty over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around, before he opened the door to the hallway. He stepped outside and shut it behind him, before strolling into the main area of the tavern and out the front door. He made sure to send one last wink and grin towards the front desk before he went outside.
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