Thursday (23 Aug) - In Her Own Head

Thursday (23 Aug) - In Her Own Head

Naithipe wanted to scream at the guard. All she'd asked for was directions, and the guard nearly fainted dead away. A part of her chuckled that she could terrorize with just a look. A part of her cringed. What part of that was the real her, she wondered? She had never wondered before.

Naithipe forced her thoughts to the meeting with Gamon, even as her mount flew her over to the new location of the city barbershop. Naithipe had been impressed into Garrosh's service, but she had other ideas that did not involve throwing away her own life for the Warchief's glory. She needed a disguise. Her anonymity was getting harder and harder to maintain. The longer she remained in Org, the more likely some relative was likely to see her and report back. She had heard that JB was hunting her. The whole clan was likely on the lookout for her by now. With things settled with Gamon, she need stay in Org no longer.

The female goblin barber brayed in mock horror when Naithipe entered the shop. "Honey, What have you done with that hair!" Naithipe stopped in her tracks, her icy eyes blinking in warning as she considered whether to kill the stumpy goblin now or after.

"Come in, come in!" The goblin grabbed Naithipe by the right arm, at the same time deftly securing the harness holding Naithipe's wicked looking axe, and guided Naithipe into an empty barber chair all in one continuous motion.

"I know that look," the barber said cheerfully as she rapidly filled a steel stand with the implements of her trade, most of them very sharp. "If you kill me now you'll regret it when Mr. Right comes along and you're still sporting those limp sprouts you're calling a hairdo." Naithipe felt a bit dazed. She scratched an eyebrow, wondering what she had let herself into, and picked at the flesh she had dislodged in the process. The barber snatched Naithipe's hand away. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, missy."

The barber paused and gave Naithipe a long, hard look. "What's it to be, hun, something sexy for the boys?" Naithipe's eyes narrowed.

"Humph," sounded the barber. "How about a nice spiked do." She paused, then added encouragingly, "Keeps the birds out of your hair." Naithipe shook her head.

"Come on, doll, don't tell me you want the evil eye killer package? That's so pre-MoP, ya know?" Naithipe opened her mouth, but shut it again as the barber prattled on "... after the slug facial compact and the eel ointments I think ..."  Naithipe shifted in the chair to bring her hand over to the shaft of her axe.

"... um." The barber swallowed. She gave Naithipe her best, alert smile. "I've got just the thing for you." The barber wagged a finger at Naithipe, leaned close, and whispered in her ear.

Naithipe was uncomfortable and fidgety on her way to Silvermoon City. She kept looking around out of the corner of her eyes as if trying to catch a glimpse of something just out of sight. She glared at those around her, daring comment, and felt strange at the occasional smiles she'd never noticed before. Nobody's going to recognize me, that's for sure, thought Naithipe. I guess it was best to let the barber live. Less ruckus. Naithipe sighed.

Once in the City, Naithipe delayed meeting up with Jocey, taken suddenly with worry. Her scattered thoughts tossed up an image of Jocey's Sunstrider sword, which Naithipe had sneered at as a weapon. It was a beautifully crafted blade, though, something Naithipe rarely considered worth thinking about. She could wait no longer, however wild her thoughts were becoming. They were to meet at the Inn.

Naithipe entered through the back entrance and came up on Jocey, already inside, from behind. The scrape of a chair turned Jocey around.

"Well met once again, Nai ... ?" Jocey's brave smile of welcome stumbled over the name, her eyes locked on Naithipe's head despite every instinct frantically telling her not to.

Naithipe was wearing a smile herself, a fierce smile half nobodies business and half something else Jocey could not begin to decipher.

"That's a, uh, stunning disguise," Jocey managed to say. Naithipe took a heartbeat to study Jocey's sincerity, who held her ground under that scrutiny. Both women took a slow breath.

Jocey took another chance. "I like it. I honestly do." Naithipe nodded minutely. The small sounds of an inn doing business grew around them, neither one of them noticing how many others in the place had been doing some breath holding of their own. Jocey pulled out a chair for Naithipe. "We're almost ready," she told Naithipe. Naithipe took the offered chair. "Let me see what you have," she asked, almost conversationally.

EZ was tired, dirty, and hating the Ghostlands already. It's so dark all the time out here, she grumbled to herself. There's not even a decent inn about in this hole in the wall town of Tranquillen. And it's all Naithipe's fault. Well, when Naithipe does turn up here, won't she be in for a bit of surprise.

EZ pulled a small sketchbook out of her tunic. She flipped through the pages and grinned. What a lucky break, to see Naithipe enter that barbershop while EZ was on her way out of town. The gold she paid that sketch artist to secretly draw the before and after was going to get EZ back into JB's good graces for sure. EZ was so proud of herself, she couldn't resist showing off the excellent artwork to anyone and everyone in town. What a kick! Let's see her try to sneak past me now, she thought contentedly.