Lucrezia
No sooner had Lucrezia decided that what she'd have would have off menu selections, all the while eyeing the bard aquisitively from beneath hooded eyelids, a secret smile playing around the corners of her lips, than Killian came out with "I'll have what she's having but with a mug of creamy delight."
Lucrezia smirked somewhat, purring... "You took the words right out of my mouth. Off the tip of my tongue even." all this delivered in her customary bordello 'come hither' quaternity in that it was a low, breathy, husky, contralto... that made opera singers sound monotonal.
In truth Lucrezia's hunger for life was fueled by a bone deep chill, something she'd inherited from dear old dad. It was a malady that demanded strong physic, namely a certain lust for life in those that caught her eye, and from the lady in question's playing, well she was just what the chirurgeon ordered. There's gold in them there hills. , she thought to herself.
Pondering, perhaps a might overlate, whether she was being too transparent, she changed the subject, essaying a joke.
"You know what catches my eye?" she asked around the table.. "Dwarves with umbrellas"
Just then her familiar, the small irridescent thrush perched on her shoulder, comically named 'Clamydia', though 'he' preferred to be called Clem, piped up with "You should know.. ma stomach thinks me throat's been cut. Fly me little 'eart out ah doo." There some surprise at this from nearby tables, some on account of a bird speaking, the remainder on account of the fact that the thrush sounded like a harbourside loan shark. Clem turned to one of these worthy's and.. "Whatya looking at? Never see a bird speak before? Yeah, it's me other voice that does the trilling. What of it?"