[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLII

[Drowlord]

The drow winces as a beam hits his shield, turning the runes to fish.
"What? By Lloth's fangs!"
He skids back a few paces, then hisses. "I hope this still works."
He pulled out a small ruby.

[orb_of_blood]

[The Cowboy's... er, table?]

It's not in an orderly state anymore, so maybe cannot be described in such a peacefully near-domestic sounding way. It's been flipped over, causing dishes, drinks and flecks of food to go flying. That and the loud crashing noise accompanying it just adds to the ever-mounting scene of chaos.

Yet Isla's chair had been scooted back slightly, and she'd been sitting, hugging her knees into her chest as usual, so was not shoved outta the way at all by Benjamin's actions. The young girl doesn't make any movement to sit, or duck for cover, every muscle entirely frozen outta fear. She merely watches everything with wide, scared eyes, though even through the fear something in her finds the image of the blonde sturgeon in a striped shirt flopping around, funny enough to giggle softly at.

As luck would have it, and luck has always really unfairly favored Isla, not a single beam hits the small, tattered, human ball she's tucked herself into. One sizzles into the chair, inches from her foot. One zips through the air, incredibly close to her hair, but not quite hitting.

Because that would be unlucky.

And there's something almost divine about Isla's good luck.

Though she's too terrified to actually do anything useful with it right now, like trying to keep other people from being fishified. Really helpful, Isla. Thanks.

[LOTRfan]

"legion, eh?" he asks, "so, you're a veteran?" He looks over his shoulder, both directions, scanning the crowd, and then says in a hushed tone, "I am one too." He then looks around some more and downs the majority of the beer in front of him.

The Warforged turns his head slightly. Another veteran? What a pleasant coincidence. "What war did you fight in?"

[Reinholdt]

Less of a Reinholdt and more of a Fishholdt really. A proper catfish at least, with front half cat and back half fish.

Magtok would get to know this fact intimately as Fishholdt goes out of his way to slap at Magtok's face repeatedly with his fish tail, claws digging into Mag's shoulder.

[Chas the mage]

The Warforged turns his head slightly. Another veteran? What a pleasant coincidence. "What war did you fight in?"

"The war was..." he pauses, thinking, stroking his chin as he tends to, and takes a sip of his beer. "Well, it didn't really have a name. I fought in a few smaller ones, but I'd say the main part of my career was the rebellion - it was so quick and so brutal that no one so much as thought to name it." His expression begins to become harsh, to a scowl almost. "The Empire which I had been fighting for fell. I was a soldier from almost birth, conscripted due to what the regime deemed superior genetics, and I fighting was all I knew for the longest time." He begins to drink more heavily as he continues his monologue, and it appears to be effecting his speech pattern slightly. "I was a decorated commander, and I was knighted. We had the 1st major rebellion and I was a part of keeping that at bay, and we did. Then we went about colonizing, conquoring and what not. Then the next rebellion had a face to it, a communist leader who was really just another despot. He had the peasantry masses in the palm of his hand." He sighs, regaining his breath from his tipsy rant.

[Earl of Purple]

Cowboy's Table

As she dives for cover, Madame de la Moy is unfortunate enough to be hit in the left arm by a mer-ray. So from the elbow down, Gertrude's arm is a Northern Pike, with its head where her hand was and its tail merged into her arm just below the elbow as light green scales extend just beyond the joint. As soon as the mer-rays and fish have stopped flying, she'll quickly break out of cover and head towards Jeanne, chanting in Abyssal a prayer backwards and reaching out to touch the flopping sturgeon. The right way around, this prayer would grant Gertrude or anybody she chose to breathe underwater; as it's chanted backwards, it grants Gertrude or anybody she chose (in this case Jeanne) to breathe air- far more useful if you're a fish, and Gertrude's not sure if her curse removal prayers work on technological effects.

[Morty]

Dipsnig crouches under a table as mer-rays blast the whole tavern. Once they're gone, he jumps from under it, aiming his crossbow at Magtok again. Magtok, unless this damn thing is reversible, I swear I'll fill your cave with radioactive waste.
Viima continues to whimper.

[Drowlord]

"Oh my."
The drow leaps to Dipsnig. "This should cure it. It's my house's pride, and I hate to use it, but..."
"Drhoth."
The gem broke, releasing a stream of naturalizing energy out towards Viima.

[Halae]

Maria's eyebrow quirks at the blunt proposition. Normally she was the one who was supposed to be this forward. It was both unsettling and intriguing, and either way, she can't help but smile slyly at the offer as she sets her drink aside. "I believe that you have my utmost attention."

"Excellent" Ingrid says, and attempts to reach over to pick Maria up, planting the tiefling over her shoulder to be carried, "Then there's no need to delay, now is there?"

That tone of voice is... well, promising is one word. Frightening might be another.

"Since we only talked about this one story I assume you made your choice on sight right."

Zefir looks up from his drink. He knows he is right and her previouse answer was enougth to proove him right.

Magical creatures are all the same, even if I look like them. Just another victim on my list.

Ormirrah frowns, "In that case, I assume you're jumping to conclusions. Honestly? I don't think we mesh well."

Plus, there's that odd feeling she's been getting about him since they met.

[UncleWolf]

Maria is stunned when Ingrid just tosses her over her shoulder, but after recovering, she simply grins and waves to anyone watching as she's carried away.

[Lord Magtok]

Dipsnig crouches under a table as mer-rays blast the whole tavern. Once they're gone, he jumps from under it, aiming his crossbow at Magtok again. Magtok, unless this damn thing is reversible, I swear I'll fill your cave with radioactive waste.
Viima continues to whimper.

"Lucky for the both of us then, that the effect is completely temporary."

As much as it hurts to pass up a perfectly good comeback opportunity, and make a snarky comment comparing Dipsnig's own saliva to nuclear waste, Magtok's got to focus on survival right now. Magtok might have clones, but Jeanne probably doesn't, and if she dies in fish form, she's as good as gone. Mocking Dippy isn't conducive to getting out of here with AMEN's new recruit, and if Maggy accidentally gets a potential asset murdered over something as trivial as a tavern robbery, Ilpholin will never let it go.

"All you have to do to speed up the process is-LOOK OVER THERE, A THREE-HEADED MONKEYSHARK!"

Magtok tries to use that preposterous distraction to make his escape, lunging towards Reinholdt the Catfish with his chrome hand, intending to throw the poor feline right at Dipsnig's face to distract the guy with a crossbow even further. His next move is to pick up Fish-Jeanne (not particularly caring if Madame de la Moy's spell works, as he's sure Jeanne can hold her breath for a little while), and try to make a mad dash for the door!

[happyturtle]

If Madame de la Moy had known Jeanne was a devil, she might not have tried to save her. Then again, Jeanne had never been involved in the Blood Feud wars, and isn't a rabid demon hater like her cousin Kal or Kal's consort-to-be Decker. Heck, she doesn't even get offended if someone mistakes her for a demon. That's downright tolerance, that is!

Of course being a devil means she can hold her breath a lot longer than 4 minutes. She's used to inhaling sulfur and brimstone fumes. Also being a devil means that if she dies, she just goes home. Which means her mother. Ugh. No thank you. She'd rather flop around as a fish.

Anyway, still breathing thanks to Dalachrech, and trying not to flop too much, she's carried out. Or at least as far as Magtok is able to get.




Oh, btw Magtok? You might find yourself inexplicably attracted to the devilfish you're carrying. Jeanne's gotten completely distracted from suppressing her lust aura.

[Reinholdt]

Reinholdt the catfish is flying at Dipsnig's face. Though he still tries to get off a few tail slaps on Mag's face before he goes.

[Morty]

Viima is turned back into a normal wolf. She scampers to her feet, trying to get as far away from Magtok as possible. Dipsnig is about to thank the drow who fixed her, but then he gets a cat to the face. He staggers back, waving his crossbow around.
Magtok, you son of a ****!

[KerfuffleMach2]

As Magtok males his escape, a peppy vampire walks in to the tavern, carrying a tired looking purple unicorn on her back.

Alysha has a moment of utter confusion as she witnesses a cyborg running with a mermaid over his shoulder, as well as Dipsnig getting hit in the face with a cat-fish. Needless to say, that is an odd sight.

Alysha would normally try to stop Magtok. But, with Twilight on her back, that wouldn't be a good decision. So, she just twists out of the way.

[Chaotic Bob]

"Argh! You get back here Trixie, Magtok, whoever! I got words to say to you!"
Applejack uses Splash!
It does nothing...

The now-hippocampus pony flops rather angrily on the floor, before stubbornly deciding to just drag herself along the floor by her forelegs.
Very quickly.

Sure, her rear legs were the strongest, for bucking purposes, but she certainly didn't neglect her front legs. More than powerful enough to carry her across the floor.

Although not necessary fast enough to catch the cyborg.
We'll see.


"Wait, you!"
Alysha might hesitate and back up from Magtok, but Twilight immediately gets that peculiar severe-look back on her face again.

Which results in her trying to leap off of the vampire and tackle the cyborg as he runs past.
More accurately to what actually happens: attempts to sort of flop-off and grab the wannabe-villain by the legs or dress.

[Drowlord]

"Back here, Magtok. I've got things to say to you, as do others."
He pulls out a length of cord, attaching a knife to the end and whipping it as to wrap around Magtok.

[Lord Magtok]

"You'll never catch me alive, drunka-Aaaugh!"

Congratulations, taven-goers. Magtok now has a bloody crossbow bolt in his shoulder, a gross tavern floor pressed against his face, cat-scratch marks on his shoulder, a knife in his chest tied to the end of a piece of rope, a pony standing on top of the small of his back, and an inexplicable feeling of lust for a fish in a striped tank top. I hope you're proud of yourselves.

[Rebonack]

A trout swims up to Magtok and puffs out its gills, blowing some bubbles. How the fish remains suspended in mid-air really isn't all that clear. Even weirder, the fish speaks!

"Magtok: Noun. Cyborg overlord being crushed by a tiny purple horse."

More bubbles from the definition trout.

Then it swims off to define other things in the tavern in an equally absurd fashion.

Bye trout!

Look out for those cats!

They might be hungry!

[KerfuffleMach2]

Magtok may also have a vampire laying across his legs.

Twilight launching herself didn't go very smoothly. Sure, she gets to Magtok. But since Alysha wasn't given any warning, the vampire didn't really let go of the pony. So Twilight's momentum took her along for the ride, ending with her falling backwards towards the cyborg.

Alysha will go to prop herself into a sitting position, one eye closed and her left hand on her head.

Ow. That was unexpected.

[Chaotic Bob]

"You! Do you have any idea what your stupidity has done?"
Twilight seems to be angrily yelling at Magtok whilst on his back.
Also grumpily jabbing at him with a hoof.

She doesn't seem overly concerned with the various implements of pain stuck within his body.


"Oh, it's Twi and Alysha."
Meanwhile, Applejack drags herself closer, before awkwardly waving with one hoof, holding herself up with the other.
This fish tail thing is going to get really awkward, really soon.

[Gnrlshrimp]

"We could probably move about quicker if I were to...carry you" the Cricketbatman observes as he slowly walks after Applejack. If this gets bothersome enough, he might cease giving Applejack any choice in the matter and simply carry her anyway.

We'll see.

Not that bothersome as long as they're in the tavern. Although of course the Cricketbatman would rather be elsewhere. Ideally somewhere that'd help get these ponies...err...ponies and hippocampus out of here.

"You. Purple one. Stop wasting your time with the cyborg. He knows exactly what his stupidity has done. You're not...going to achieve anything by shouting at him."

[5a Violista]

The cowboy Benjamin is up and ready. His pistols are loaded, with three bullets each. He looks around the tavern room...and uncontrollably bursts into laughter. Here he was, being so serious and trying to look heroic.

However, to him, who has never seen mermaids and cyborgs and talking cats in his whole born days...the scene is amazingly hilarious. He spins both pistols on each index finger, and then puts them into his side holsters.

He reaches backwards to find an empty chair that hasn't tipped over when he flipped the table, and sits down so he won't fall down.

[The Bushranger]

Sharon, somehow, didn't get zapped.

She is, however, staring at Magtok.


...and giggling.
Madly.

[Dark Elf Bard]

Oh, an elf. Elves remind Gran (the Breen) a little to much of Vulcans for his comfort, but he'll try to be nice. Obviously, something is bothering this man. As he speakers, the visor stops pulsing and seems to almost zero in on the man's face, as if the Breen is trying to get as many details as possible. His voice is very scratchy, and almost mechanical in nature. "is everything alright, sir? You seem worried about something."

The elf twitches once, and starts speaking in a not-quite-monotone.
No. I am fine. Thank you for your concern.

[Drowlord]

The drow sighs. His aim was apparently not the best.
He walks over to the cyborg.
"Okay, why are you doing this? You have no reason to turn innocents into merpeople."
His thin, ebony hand fingered the pommel of his sword. Encased in it was a glowing ruby.
"If you're good, I might heal you. If not... Well, there's a reason why I'm called Daggers in my country."

[Reinholdt]

Reinholdt does his best to flop/claw his way away from Dipsnig's face. It's probably uncomfortable for Dipsnig for a little bit.

Though once Rein hits the floor, he kinda just stays there. It's hard to move with half your legs gone and he's not going to start dragging himself.

[Morty]

Once Reinholdt is gone, Dipsnig peers at the drow. Haven't been here long, have you? Magtok doesn't need a reason to do crap like this.

[Drowlord]

"I apologise. I have not been here long. Is there, then a reason for not just simply striking him down to get it over with?"
The drow asks because, though he is considered noble by the other species in his home world, he does not understand the subtleties of emotion yet.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok grins at the pony and dark elf, even in spite of the enormous amount of pain he's in, lying with his chest on the dirty floor. A drow, of all things, is talking about not having a reason to bother innocent people? The irony is absolutely staggering.

"To answer both of you at once, my 'stupidity', as you insist on calling it, turned a dull and dreary and unexciting afternoon in this little dump of a tavern...into something spectacular.

Yeah, a couple of people are going to have fins and scales for an hour or so. So what? Just how many people here, excluding me, are grievously injured, huh? None of you, that's how many. Exactly how I intended for things to go.

Don't you see? The ridiculous choice of weapon? The low stakes? It was all a game. Shenanigans, for the sake of shenanigans, and pretty much nothing else. This was an elaborate prank, for gods' sake. Are you really going to kill me for that? Are you really so unfun and lame and grumpy that you'd murder a guy in cold blood just for giving you something fun and exciting to do for a few minutes?"