Trog's Tavern CLIII

[CosmicHobbit]

"Well, right now I'm a mercenary." Erasmus says this as if it's perfectly normal. Nothing unusual about mercenary work.

"Right now?" Lynx seems less surprised by the fact that Erasmus is a mercenary and more surprised by the usage of the word right now. "Does that mean you've been other things before, or you plan to be other things?"

[bc56]

"Right now?" Lynx seems less surprised by the fact that Erasmus is a mercenary and more surprised by the usage of the word right now. "Does that mean you've been other things before, or you plan to be other things?"

"I've always wanted to own a restaurant. Mercenary work is just a way of earning enough money to eventually fulfil that." Erasmus shrugs.

[CosmicHobbit]

"I've always wanted to own a restaurant. Mercenary work is just a way of earning enough money to eventually fulfil that." Erasmus shrugs.

Lynx nods and says, "Yeah, gotta get that money somewhere. I actually don't get a lot of money period, as I can't exactly work with the types of creatures Bob despises. But careful budgeting does wonders." He takes one of his shots. "So what type of mercenary work do you do? I've heard of mercenary thieves, mercenary hackers, mercenary warriors, et cetera."

[bc56]

Lynx nods and says, "Yeah, gotta get that money somewhere. I actually don't get a lot of money period, as I can't exactly work with the types of creatures Bob despises. But careful budgeting does wonders." He takes one of his shots. "So what type of mercenary work do you do? I've heard of mercenary thieves, mercenary hackers, mercenary warriors, et cetera."

"I provide magical assistance in combat and espionage." There's not honestly much more Erasmus can say. That's all he does.

[Artemis97]

Gudrun nods, laughing slightly at the notion, "Ahh, well I suppose I ought to be fairly good at that, showing proper respect, although I imagine some gods have some pretty crazy forms of worship. I don't imagine you get time to do cultural research before bumping into them, though!"

"Certainly not!" Renault agrees, chuckling. "Hopefully neither of us will run afoul of a rogue deity."

[CosmicHobbit]

"I provide magical assistance in combat and espionage." There's not honestly much more Erasmus can say. That's all he does.

"Huh. More than I can say." Lynx takes one of his shots and continues. "I know very little magic. Most of what I do is just me asking Bob to do stuff, and he's not always obedient." He suddenly grows thoughtful, but says no more.

[bc56]

"Huh. More than I can say." Lynx takes one of his shots and continues. "I know very little magic. Most of what I do is just me asking Bob to do stuff, and he's not always obedient." He suddenly grows thoughtful, but says no more.

"So what do you do?" Erasmus is curious. "Other than hunting monsters."

[CosmicHobbit]

"So what do you do?" Erasmus is curious. "Other than hunting monsters."

Snapped out of his inner thoughts, Lynx says, "Honestly? Not a whole lot. At least, not a whole lot that's specifically to pay the bills. I go on random adventures from time to time, which usually means finding loot."

[bc56]

Snapped out of his inner thoughts, Lynx says, "Honestly? Not a whole lot. At least, not a whole lot that's specifically to pay the bills. I go on random adventures from time to time, which usually means finding loot."

"I understand. I'd do it myself, but I prefer to work in a team." Erasmus has thought about it, but it's not quite as stable as mercenary work, and he could never find anyone to do it with.

[CosmicHobbit]

"I understand. I'd do it myself, but I prefer to work in a team." Erasmus has thought about it, but it's not quite as stable as mercenary work, and he could never find anyone to do it with.

Lynx's eyebrows go up and he smiles. "A team can be just two people you know. If you're pickin' up what I'm throwin' down." He seems pretty excited by what could be about to happen.

[Celticbear]

A man in a red cloak and cowl stumbles through the door. The wind behind him seems to blow in the opposite direction, as if recoiling in fear from him. His breathe escapes in a rasp, and he has the smell of grease. Though the cloak and cowl cover most of his extremities, a blue tattoo covered hand can be seen holding the cloak to his chest like a security blanket, and fine metal coils billowing from his face.

[Hattish Thing]

As if brought in by the wind itself, an ostentatiously dressed skeletal figure appears within a nearby booth, seemingly materializing out of nothing. The skeletal figure stands tall and slender, his spidery form both delicate and lithe, at odds with his lethargic, relaxed posture. Although the figure's eyes are hidden beneath the lavish turban worn upon his head, and the skeleton possesses not a scrap of flesh, a smug look of utter satisfaction and self-assured superiority can still be detected, read in by the cruel, mocking angle of his teeth built into his skull.

The figure is clad in an ostentatious, intricately-styled, wine-colored robe, lavishly fashioned of the finest silk, decorated excessively with precious gemstones and shimmering serpentine patterns, lined with threads of a golden shade and glittering rows of perfectly polished, shimmering rubies. An immaculate, glittering turban of sparkling midnight cloth topped with a massive, gleaming ruby can be seen worn upon the skeleton's head. Flowing forth from beneath the figure's extravagant turban, a lavish, dark-colored garment crafted of similar material to his ornamental headdress pools over the enchanter's broad, angular shoulders, acting as a connective fabric, indirectly linking the glittering midnight turban with the enchanter's glamorous gossamer cloak.

An elaborate, sparkling serpent-topped staff encased in golden, rune-carved plating can frequently be seen held in the figure's long, gloved hands, and numerous rings of polished diamond, glittering rubies, and expensive-looking sapphires adorn his uncomfortably long, thin fingers, each ring worn over his ornate crimson gloves.

"You there! Come closer!~"

[Celticbear]

The red figure looks upward towards the strange figure, a single eye showing forth from his all encompassing hood. It appears to be a shining blue, the light from the eye piercing out like a flashlight. The light then shifts from blue to yellow, and slight whirring sounds can be heard from his frame. From the billows of his robe, another hand comes forth, one of metal bearing a short pistol that looks like a cross between something from steampunk and the far future. It glows with the same blue light that once luminously shined forth from his hood. It seems even more piercing however, and smoke starts to draw off from the firearm.

The yellow beam then shifts to red, and the being starts to slouch towards him, not holding to normal human movement. It seems to lean forward, and some mass below him dragging itself towards his disposition. The smell of grease only seems to grow in intensity as he draws closer, and the metallic whines from beneath him sharpen as well. They seem to pierce the ear, this figure is loud for sure. As he grows closer, the smoke emanating from the pistol only seems to billowing more, creating a small fog cloud around his metallic hand... strike that, his hand seems to glowing red to the touch. Some of it even starts to drop onto the floor in heated clumps.

Eventually he comes to a stop a mere yard away from the skeletal figure, a molten clump dropping down to the table in front of them. It seems to steam as it comes in contact with the wood. It starts to slowly catch a few small embers. A small skull with machinery jutting forth from its frame comes forth from the figure's midriff, linked to his stomach by a long metal cable. It blows a small torrent of water onto the table, and then onto the figure's hand. Both sources of fire start to die down in intensity. As they do, slow words start to come from the figure's mouth to answer the skeleton's call.

Daemon scum, my oaths to Tzeentch are forfeit, you have no hold over me anymore! Tell your master my reply to His failure, He can take His gifts back, I have no use for such pathetic attempts at power.

[bc56]

Lynx's eyebrows go up and he smiles. "A team can be just two people you know. If you're pickin' up what I'm throwin' down." He seems pretty excited by what could be about to happen.

"I got it." Erasmus nods knowingly. "Got anything specific in mind?"

[CosmicHobbit]

"I got it." Erasmus nods knowingly. "Got anything specific in mind?"

"Not particularly. We could try going into a haunted graveyard or something. That would certainly appease Bob." Lynx grabs his cane, ready to go already.

[Hattish Thing]

The skeletal figure offers a small chuckle here, its unnatural voice echoing throughout the tavern as it gestures about, bringing a hand to its chest in as dramatic a way as possible. "My good man, whatever do you mean? I am but a humble trader! I cannot help but find you intriguing!"

[bc56]

"Not particularly. We could try going into a haunted graveyard or something. That would certainly appease Bob." Lynx grabs his cane, ready to go already.

"Sounds good." Erasmus grabs one more drink for the road, then is ready to go as well.

[Celticbear]

NO! I make no more deals with your kind! Chaos shall not fool me for a second time!

The red cloaked man holds his gun steady while his arm slowyly starts to melt off. The servo skull makes a renewed effort to put out the fires.

[KerfuffleMach2]

And in walks a woman. A fairly short woman. Not quite under five feet, but almost. Her bright red hair is cropped short, and looks like it's never seen a comb. Ever. She wears a pair of loose cloth pants, tied at the waist with some rope. Her top is simply cloth straps wrapped around her torso to keep some modesty. Her hands and feet also have cloth straps wrapped about them.

Everything about her stance, her shape, the way she carries herself screams that this woman is a fighter. A scrapper. Somebody who has had many fists fly at her face, and has no problem with that trend continuing.

She also looks around with a bright smile, clearly pleased by the sight inside.

Ah, love this place. She glances to see if her new student is still with her. You come here much?

[Deathkeeper]

Sam, the Nexus’ one and only spigre, follows her in.
”Honestly I haven’t been in here in a while. Got attacked by a snake thing or something last time I was here.” he says, a little nervous at being back.

[KerfuffleMach2]

Darsy points a finger to Sam, grinning. And that's a reason I like this place! Random bar fights are always fun.

Darsy will approach the bar and order a beer. She'll also buy Sam whatever he's getting.

So, tell me a bit about yourself. I think you mentioned getting some kind of training before?

[5a Violista]

Imagine a generic Japanese woman.

A young woman who is probably around 20 years old walks into the tavern. She looks kinda like an athlete. She has a puncture-proof skates bag on her back, like a backpack, which says "Kikkawa Yoshiko" on it. She's known to her friends as Yoshiko. She walks up then orders a nice and steamy hot chocolate. "Thanks."

Everyone calls her Kikkawa.

While waiting for the drink she stares off into space, focusing on pretty much nothing but maybe a stray thought or two. Like, maybe, that generic Japanese woman that you're imagining. She's imagining her, too, except in her memory that woman's blood is still all over her hands and knees and it won't wash out.

That's probably why her eyes look so unfocused. Looking at haunting memories tend to do that.

[Hattish Thing]

[Quiet Counter]

For Layne, the last few days had been rough. With her hands set into the pockets of her darkened jeans, she attempted to simply avoid eye contact with onlookers and focus on her feet, hoping to avoid any uncomfortable conversations with strangers as she tried to take it slow. She knew she looked like a mess, her dark eyeliner smeared down her face, her lip still healing from some sort of blunt wound. Not to mention the bandages worn over her head, barely visible beneath messy locks of raven hair.

By now, the anger was gone, replaced by fear and anxiety, though she remembered it well. It hadn't boiled her like she thought it would, like it normally did. Rather, it felt corrosive, as if her innards were all twisted and acidic. How the fury mixed with the pain, blinding her, before it all went away at the sound of a gruesome crack and a splatter of blood. She had thought it would feel good, standing up, venting her emotions through a medium as universally recognized as physical violence. Then, the alley... how helpless she felt. Now though, she just felt sore. Sore and numb inside, like static on a television. But hungry, hollow.

She'd been feeling like that often lately. She blamed the dreams. The boy. The freak in the blue dress. Herself, her own inability to express herself the way she once could. It was stupid, all of it. She knew thinking this way wouldn't do her any good, but she couldn't help it. Finally, her caustic train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of her own drink. This had been the fifth of a long line of drinks, and by now she was feeling much more sociable. Perhaps some sort of social contact would do her some good.

Eyes lowered, she glances over towards the Japanese woman cautiously, muttering to the woman, her voice coarse.

"Hot chocolate?"

"You like to live dangerously, then, huh?"

[5a Violista]

[Quiet Counter]

Thanks to the magic translator of the Nexus, Kikkawa hears Japanese from Layne. Sure, she can speak some English, just like any other Olympic athlete, but it just isn't that big of a deal to her.

The Japanese woman is shaken from her thoughts. She looks down at her hot chocolate and realizes that she's been drinking it for some while now, it's half-gone already. "Oh. Hi," she says, setting down the drink. She needs to stop spacing out.

As half of an explanation, she says, "Well, I'm not really allowed to drink." She motions to the ice-skating bag on her back, as if that somehow explains why she's not allowed to drink. The real reason she can't drink is because of her therapist, but...no point in saying that to someone she just met.

"What did you get?" she asks, gesturing towards Layne's drink and returning the conversation. "Is it more perilous than my chocolate?"

[Hattish Thing]

[Quiet Counter]

After gently dipping and retrieving a painted nail from within her own foul-colored drink, Layne calmly, casually checks it for some sort of alteration in color. Noticing no such change, she leans forward a little bit before taking a long drink, rubbing her dark eyes with the palms of her hands afterwards, clearly a little more relaxed.

Her response is a little quieter, somewhat friendlier.

"Yeah? Psh. Who says? Carpe diem, you know?"

"To be honest, I don't really know what it is, but I'm definitely feeling it. Wanna try?"

[5a Violista]

[Quiet Corner]

Kikkawa Yoshiko looks around, as if making sure nobody's watching her.

Why would anybody be watching her? Or care if she drinks something strange? There's a good chance nobody here knows her, or knows her history. As long as she doesn't have too much, it should be fine, right?

"If-If I only have a little bit, it shouldn't be a problem, right?" she asks Layne, as if Layne's opinion was enough. Come on, girl, you know she wants you to have some. Why are you asking her for permission, like she's some sort of authority on the matter? It's almost as if Yoshiko doesn't want responsibility in case she drinks too much and something happens. No, it wasn't my fault, your honor. I was given permission to drink, I didn't know what would happen.

She takes a deep breath. "Sure. Yes, I'll try some. But only a little." The woman quickly drains her hot chocolate and holds out her cup, for the other woman to pour some in.

...Then, she'll try it. Just a little. I mean, it's not like she's drinking a whole cup's worth, she's just going to drink however much is poured in there.

[Hattish Thing]

[Quiet Corner]

With a somewhat crooked grin on her extraordinarily pale face, Layne shrugs. "There's no problem in the world that can't be solved by strong alcohol, honestly." With a somewhat cheerful expression, she holds up her drink, pouring a considerable amount into her new friend's tankard.

Kikkawa may notice that she certainly moves with a sleepy grogginess, the kind oftentimes associated with someone very, very much under the influence.

"Well, it's comparatively little."

"What's your name?"

[5a Violista]

[Quiet Corner]

The woman looks into her cup. It's more than she expected, but this other woman knows more about alcohol, so maybe it's a normal amount. Yoshika hasn't ever had any, which is why she trusts Layne when she says "it's not very much".

"Kikkawa Yoshiko," she says, as she grabs hold of the cup. She raises it to her mouth, and drinks it all...and doesn't really like how it tastes. Well, it has some weird charm, but the initial taste makes her make a face. "Um. Good. It's. Good." Not as bad as she thought it would be, however. Actually, she can see why people drink it.

"I probably shouldn't have more, though."

"Er, I don't know if you had the chance, but if you watched the Olympics then you might've seen me." She preemptively says this in case she gets recognized. It happens sometimes, especially after saying her name.

"And what's yours? Your name, I mean."

[Hattish Thing]

[Quiet Corner]

"Hope you're not afraid of a little backwash," Layne muttered as her newest friend began to drink out of her tankard. Noticing the somewhat displeased expression upon her face, Layne offers a sardonic laugh, pleasant but somewhat aggressive, thought not necessarily condescending. "Holy sh*t, wow! You took it like a champ!"

"Up to you, Kiki. Mind if I call you Kiki?"

"And, uh, Layne."

--

She purses her painted lips for several seconds as Kikkawa mentions something about Olympians.

"So, Olympic. You're talking, like... Felandria?"

"Is there a show??"

[5a Violista]

[Quiet Corner]

"Oh. Thanks," Yoshiko says to not-quite-condescending laugh. "You can call me that if you want." She knows how hard it is for foreigners to pronounce her name. Heck, she knows how hard it is for her to pronounce Foreigner's names, so obviously foreigners would have a hard time pronouncing her own name. Besides, Kiki is kinda cute.

She really wishes she had some hot chocolate left over to get the aftertaste out of her mouth.

"Felandria? What's that?" she responds, before understanding (or, rather, thinking she understands) that this Layne thinks that maybe Felandria is some kind of film group that broadcasts the Olympics or something like that. "I-I guess? I've never heard of that group, but it sounds possible. Felandria's kind-of a weird name for a news group, or something. Is it Spanish? It sounds Spanish."

However, Kikkawa can't guarantee she properly understood how much Layne understood, so she says (just in case): "Just in case you haven't watched it, it's a sports thing. Worldwide." Realizing she's not exactly on Earth, she clarifies, "Um, on my home planet. Worldwide there. Don't know if it's just worldwide, or if it's broadcast here."