Fish, Chips, and Assassination

quick rp at the Halyard gambling Den.

The ferret has been here awhile, seated lazily at the bar nursing a tonic. Her hood is down, though her cloak is still wrapped around her shoulders to guard against the draft that rushes the room with every exit and entry. She is paid little mind among the general hustle and bustle, most beasts choosing to focus on their coins (or lack thereof) and the games at hand.

Halyard Village: Gambling Den Games at hand that contribute to the lack thereof coins! So thinks the weasel at the card table. A small beast with a brown coloring to his fur he wears a yellow tunic and a small cap over his head. Occasionally he will lean back, rubbing his chin as he looks intently at the competition across the table, as if trying to read their very thoughts.

In reality he is looking at the pine marten at the bar. A bountifull feast is spread out around the marten, obviously contributing to the sizable gut spilling out under her vest and over her lap. The gluttonous marten sits with her back to the bar, glancing at the crowd as she eats from a basket of chips. She would nod or shake her head slightly for no appearent reason, that is until the weasel would play his hand or fold depending on her actions...

The albino at the bar, a few seats down from the glutton, cares little for card games - nor does she care /how/ they are played. It matters not to her that they are cheating, for she prefers to gamble with a higher tender. With a soft sigh, she taps a claw against the bar to get the server's attention, requesting a refill on her tonic before pushing herself upright and sliding into the seat next to the hefty pine marten with a grin. "Hullo, mate!" She offers, amiably, once her tail has settled into the seat. "Night on the cards, eh? I'm rubbish, m'self, t'tell you the truth. Can't seem t'keep anything I put down on the tables!" She says with a laugh, her words slightly slurred. It would seem that the alcohol has made the quiet ferret a sight friendlier than she had been, sitting alone at the bar as she was. "Y'jus' one for watchin', too? Foods a sigh' better than some of the other spots 'round town too."

The marten nearly has a heart attack the way she jumps. The moment passes quickly though and her tail begins to defluff from shock. "Food? Oh, yeah...heh heh, good stuff here." One would hope so with the ammount of empty plates behind her. One might as well live it up though when facing certain doom. A doom which their only salvation would be through cheating at cards...

"Yeah, not a bad spot wot? Both for food and view. I think it's made that way, lets you gaze upon the games that you /could/ be playing." The marten takes a sip of her wine before continuing bitterly, "Or remind you how much you just lost..."

Back at the table the weasel is starting to make some head way until a beast shoves his entire pile of chips into the center of table. The weasel's eyes bulge. He leans back, casting a glance at the marten for advice, the marten who is now slightly distracted by the drunken ferret.

"Hah! Y'see the beasts winnin' an' y'think y'cin do it too. It's how they get ya." The ferret laughs. "What're y' drinkin', mate? I'll get y'next round." She grins, tapping the bar behind them. "I'll have another one for this one!" She demands jovially, gesturing to the marten. The bar tender raises an eyebrow, obviously displeased with this particular patron and her gluttonous tendencies, and is loathe to further fuel her with alcohol, no less, but relents. "Listen, what's y'name, friend? Y'cin call me Margaret. Marge f'short, Ma f'shorter!" She guffaws. The beast at the table is ignored, how would she know the two were related, of course? Being but a simple patron.

The marten chuckles slightly at the drunken ferret's actions. But hey, if she want's to buy her a free drink, "Pepper." Says Pepper the Pine marten. "And I think I will call you drunk. But hey, if you're buying drinks you can go by any name you want!" The marten glances back at the table. It takes a moment for her to register what is going on. She begins to frantically run her paw over her throat repeatedly. The weasel at the table pauses in pushing his chips in. Nervously biting his lip the weasel quickly slides his chips back and folds his hand.

"Pleased t'meetcha Peppah!" The ferret slurs, not seeming to notice the hand motions flashing back and forth between the two. As the bartender places the drink on the bar behind the marten, she fumbles forward to pull it towards her, her paw passing over the rim as she does so, simply the antics of a drunkard. The powder isn't even visible in the darkened room, spreading itself through the glass. With a glutton like this one, choking isn't all that uncommon, really - she should really keep an eye out for that. "Augh...I think the drinks'r comin' back f'me!" Margaret shudders, clasping a paw over her mouth and stumbling away from the bar. On her way out, she trips and stumbles against the marten's co-conspirator; it isn't uncommon for a beast to bump another, the prick against his side could easily be mistaken for a claw or a belt buckle, rather than a small amount of poison. Not enough to kill him, but rather to dull his senses and slow him down. However, as she passes, she notes the rather...

unforgiving look of the fox next to him, and she whispers "He's been cheating." into his ear as she passes, stumbling out the door and into the alley - her paws clean in more ways than one.

The ferret doesn't get to see the look of anger nor the shout of alarm, nor the ensuing chaos she causes when the vulpine lays into the cheating weasel. The chaos prevents the gluttonous marten from being able to start her poisoned drink. Deciding to cut her losses the beast let's out a shout of alarm, leaving the poor weasel behind as he is mobbed by several other players. She slinks out the back of the gambling hall to live another day!

Perhaps, with the assassin on her heels, that is all she has left...