Mavis had forgotten just how loud this pub was. Settled on the edge of Jawan, down one of the many filthy side streets that the tourists of Jawan constantly ignored sat The One-Eyed Rat. This particular alehouse catered to the worst rodents of the city. It was a dark, filthy place, with roof that seemed to be missing an inexplicably large amount of tiles. Perhaps this was to compensate for the tiny windows, which obviously hadn't let in any light for decades. Inside wasn't much better, the floorboards were stained, with moth-eaten rugs thrown over the more obvious bloodstains left over from the more raucous bar fights. (Don't want t' scare the customers now, do we?) The tables and chairs looked as if they'd been glued back together at least five or six times, they seemed to be used more for throwing than for sitting on, probably because they were too rickety to hold the weight of any sensible person. This particular watering hole was a favourite of the fisherman, who came to drown their sorrows and, after one-too-many pints, act like fish out of water. The noise was incredible, it was a sheer wall of laughter, swearing and very off-key singing. Ah, it was just like home. Though, back home there was Heather. Still, she couldn't go to The Lobster Quadrille every night. Not only that, last time she'd been there Mavis had fallen asleep in Heather's lap, people were beginning to talk... It wasn't that she so much minded what they thought, the drunks and the whores hardly held much standing with her. But, Mavis couldn't decide if she'd be relived or terrified if certain rumours made their way to her family's ears. The last thing she needed was her siblings finding out about her private life. Mavis Amanda Campbell, middle child of the Campbells and twin sister of Cole Campbell, the most troublesome child of the family. Known as Mossy to her friends, she was a rather small woman by anyone's standards, though despite her size, she was stronger than she looked. Her hands were callusced and worn and from the slight soot mark on her forehead just were she'd sweep her hair back while working, it was obvious the young woman hadn't had an easy life. Curly brown hair fell to just above her chin, the cut was rather choppy and it definitely looked like a 'home-made' hairstyle. In retrospect, it probably hadn't been the best idea to let a werewolf cut her hair. Her best friend Emery was the werewolf in question, and werewolf or no, she still made him regret cutting it so short.
Mavis weaved her way through the crowd easily, dodging through the fishermen and sailors. In her dark green overalls, splattered with oil and soot it was hard to make her out from the rest of the pub and most didn't notice her until she was right beneath their noses. She leant against the dark wood of the bar, not trusting the bar stools to support her weight, she coughed and the barmaid looked up, startled from her thoughts. In all honesty, Mavis was probably more surprised that she'd actually heard her over the din. "What do you want?" The barmaid asked expectantly after a few moments, several years of working at The One-Eyed Rat had evidently worn her patience thin.
"Whatever's cheap." The Genesian woman replied. She came from a place called Genis, a country outside of Evelon. In many parts it was polluted, and covered in filthy, billowing clouds of smoke. It was a working man's country, few rich people would chose Genis as their home. Years ago, many years before Mavis was born, her country had been the most technologically advanced in the continent. The seas around Genis were especially rough, no boat could cross it. All were smashed onto the rocks; the Genesians were prisoners on their own island. Being the resourceful people they were, they found another way, boats became a thing of the past as airships filled the skies. Other inventions from the little island made their way through the continents, and soon the people of Genis were thriving. Years passed, and the excitement from their inventions wore off, now the inventors didn't have just people from their island to contend with: they had the entire world.
Then the factories sprang up, replacing fertile farming lands with spires of metal that seemed to reach right up into the clouds. It promised employment, financial safety, the modernization of a country that was beginning to fall behind. The factories were accepted with open arms. They didn't realize that they'd sold their souls to the devil himself. The devil was cordial and polite and he paid small, but good wages and he had jobs for sons and for daughters. The jobs at the factories were hard ones, from lugging around scrap metal to be melted down to stitching the fabric for air ships. And while the latter doesn't sound so bad, but a twelve hour day next to a machine that could easily send a needle straight through an arm sounded more than a little worse. Most of them ended up with hearing difficulties, it was kinder in a way, at least they didn't have to hear the noise from the machines then. Mavis had always worked there, bringing iron ore to the forge day in, day out. There was no difference between woman's work and men's work there. You did whatever you could until you dropped down dead, and many people did. It was little wonder she was seeking respite from her usual routine. The sea and the air here, was better, there was no smoke in the air. It didn't catch in her lungs as she walked, she could see the sky and she could see the stars, they were not obscured by the near-constant fog she was so used to.
Mavis was given a glass of vaguely amber coloured liquid. "There's no way in hell you'll drink that, but since you asked fer it." The barmaid said, giving her an amused look.
"You 'aven't seen the swill I usually drink." Mavis took a sip and winced, they might as well have been serving sea water and malt vinegar. To be fair, it was actually better than what The Lobster Quadrille served most days. She took it back to one of the few tables that weren't splintering, before leaning over to try and wipe the filth away from one of the tiny pub windows. The trek over here might have been worth something if she could see the sky for a little while.
