A Skyrate’s Life, Part 6: Narcolepsy

A Skyrate’s Life is a series of posts reminiscing about my time in the Skyrates roleplaying community, primarily through posting and talking about my remaining RP channel logs.

Still no Mahmoth, so another mundane and easily understandable title today.

This is the final post of the 3 logs taken pretty much sequentially. Between parts 4, 5 and 6 we have the best part of an entire 24-hour R&P day! In pre-lurker times I imagine this was a fairly rare event, particularly with the server occasionally disconnecting you for no adequately explained reason. Anyway, in this entry Mairi explodes, Markus drinks heavily (the two are related), we discover a disturbing fact about the denizens of the R&P aand… we talk about aircraft a bit as usual. Don’t miss the flustered boar sow towards the end!

New Characters:

  • Gunnar Matheson: Male giraffe, blue faction (as of Skyrates 2.5 – he has no DP entry for 2.4 when these events took place). Hails from Reichland, a skyland a significant distance beyond Uurwerk – off the edge of the Skyrates game map in any case. Gunnar is the main connection between Reichland and the rest of Skytopia.
  • Concupiscense: Female boar (sow), yellow faction. Perpetually nervous. Another alt of Knappekat! (Thanks, Phedre)
  • Circle: Female giraffe, blue faction. Was apparently involved with Gunnar at some point.


  • Mairi’s meltdown is complete, and she explodes at Markus for being ‘so damned nice to me’. It turns out that recent events aren’t the only things that went badly for Mai – she has a pretty tragic backstory. The belief that letting people be nice to you causes them (and you) to be hurt is completely irrational, but also quite human.
  • Who’s the friend with brain damage who wants to kill her?
  • There’s a colossal OOC wall in the middle of this. It does explain quite a lot about the behaviour of the bar’s patrons, though…
  • This is the post where Markus refers to Zekkass and I as his apprentices. There are a few people who Alex looked up to in Skyrates – Mairi, Mah, BL and Markus primarily. If I was going to describe one of them as a kind of mentor though, it would likely be Markus. Torn as I was between blue and red, it seems fairly likely that I would’ve joined Zekkass and Markus in the Crimson Armada eventually.
  • What Connie says next is sadly lost to us. We may never know the rest of that conversation.

As you might expect, today’s chat log is below. For previous entries in this series, hie thee.

RP 19/07/08 0230

Markus Jarnhann: ‘as tae matte’ if ’tis botherin’ ye sich.
*Mairi glares daggers at Markus, “Will you STOP? Just.. leave me alone, damn it! I don’t need you following me around everywhere being so damned nice to me, so just quit already!”
Mairi: ((sorry moros, reading still))
*Markus Jarnhann shakes his head. “…Nae, ye like as no’ dinnae. Ye’d pro’lly like folk tae trea’ ye miser’bly. Bu’, tha’s no’ ‘ow I am, o’ wha’ I do.” ::He shrugs.:: “… I cannae say I unde’stan’.”
Mairi: nothing good ever comes of it, so just.. go away! and take Ell to the hospital on your way
Torwyn: (([moros] no problem, i’m not in a hurry to post =P))
Markus Jarnhann: Wha’ d’ye mean, nothin’ goo’ e’er comes o’ i’?
*Mairi snorts and shakes her head, “just what I said, nothing good comes of it. you were here the other day, you saw how great things turned out”
Mairi: just.. nevermind. just go
Cecil Lancaster: ((Wait…. Mai and Markus are on the roof?))
Mairi: ((other side of the roof))
Markus Jarnhann: ‘Twere bu’ one day. There’s a whole hos’ o’ days ahead. Ye cannae look a’ i’ like tha’.
Mairi: one day, huh? I could ignore one day. No. No, ever since I left home.. gah. I just sound.. psychotic and paranoid. Maybe I am.
Mairi: it just… never stops
Mairi: should have figured it out to start, but no, I’m too stupid to recognize it
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs. “…No’ true. ‘Ave I e’er treate’ ye badly? ‘As Kincaid? Enny? Mah?”
Mairi: it’s not just that!
Markus Jarnhann: Then wha’?
Mairi: everything! everything good that ever happens! I mean sure it started out small, really. What’s one pleasant evening suddenly ruined by random violence? two? three? more than that… You know, the Iron Vulture has been brought down by damage heavy enough to ground it long term exactly two times. BOTH times were supposed to be.. Magnus sake, I sound psychotic
Mairi: but no, that’s not all of it either
Markus Jarnhann: No. Ye dinnae soun’ psychotic. By all means… continue.
*Markus Jarnhann looks at her seriously, and with a fair amount of evident concern.
Mairi: ha. liar
*Ellington yawns and stretches, waving to anybody still in the tavern, and heads out to his hangar
Mairi: meh..
Markus Jarnhann: No, I’m nae a liar. My wor’ is goo’.
Markus Jarnhann: I’ve ne’er ‘ad cause tae lie tae ye, an’ I dinnae ‘ave cause tae lie tae ye now. Ye’ve done me a kindness, an’ I inten’ tae return tae favo’.
Mairi: it’s stupid anyway. I mean.. I did manage one fairly uninterrupted pleasant span… But that’s all been made up for lately. Knappe still isn’t recovered. And ask Phe what she thinks of Larkos. Plus the fact that I lost a really good friend, who wants to kill me.. aside from the fact that he now has brain damage
Mairi: but you know, I didn’t even believe it then. It was stupid and paranoid. Still is
Mairi: kept ignoring it, and you know what?
Markus Jarnhann: ’tis nae stupi’. Promise ’tis no’, fo’ wha’ t’tis wort’. Wha’?
Mairi: I found a way to be happy. Not just happy.. Suddenly all the mysteries of the universe seemed to align… I finally had… everything I wanted. Everything was absolutely… perfect.
Mairi: and then..
Burrito Loco: ((that’s a deep line to come online to))
Mairi: My brother was killed. Killed because of something I did to try and help him. Killed over something he had no idea about even..
*Burrito Loco finds his way out of his plane and toward the R&P
*Markus Jarnhann continues to watch Mai, silently. He says nothing, just yet, letting her continue.
Burrito Loco: ((whar? ))
Mairi: And now…. the information they killed him to get is going to be released publically. So.. it’s all for nothing. Just… pointless, cruel and empty
Markus Jarnhann: ((Markus and Mai are up on the rooftop.))
Burrito Loco: ((sounds like life….))
*Burrito Loco finds himself in a deserted bar
*Trystero sits at the bar with a handful of newspapers and a sharp knife, with which he is cutting out a clipping from each paper.
Mairi: so the one day… the ONE day in I have in… hell, I have no idea how long… where I actually can relax, just a tiny bit… I finally find something I can smile about… something so stupid and tiny as a {static} eggs and a day off from a good friend… and one of my best friends is shot and nearly killed
Mairi: you know, I was glad Ellington was being such a {static}, because I have every reason to believe that if he HAD been nice… Ennia might just have gotten killed
*Markus Jarnhann blinks at that, and nods, finally, putting two and two together. He places his hand on her shoulder. “Dinnae thin’ sae, Mai. Eithe’ way… she’s alive… an’ I’m goin’ tae kill tae bastar’ wha’ sho’ ‘er, an’ tae bastar’ wha’ ‘ired ‘im.”
Markus Jarnhann: ((the putting two and two together was the brother bit.))
Markus Jarnhann: ((I realize that reads a bit backasswards, otherwise.))
*Mairi pulls her shoulder away and turns her head away from Markus
Mairi: just.. go away
*Markus Jarnhann shakes his head behind her. “…Wha’ kind o’ frien’ woul’ I be, if I were tae leave while me frien’ were ‘urtin’?”
*Mairi snaps, “The kind who can’t hurt her more!”
Burrito Loco: Where is everyone?
*Trystero looks around. Well, Ellington was here, but he must have left. Mairi and Markus are up on the roof, I think. And others… well, they come and go.”
Burrito Loco: I might just go sit on the roof and stare, if no one’s around
Burrito Loco: Ah
Cecil Lancaster: ((Heh! ))
Burrito Loco: ((hooray chat lag))
Mairi: just go, Markus! ..please
Burrito Loco: Yeah, Iknow
*Alex Webster wanders in, with an armful of catalogues. A cursory inspection reveals that they are mostly from aircraft part manufacturers or retailers. He drops them on the bar. “Evenin’ All.”
Cecil Lancaster: ((Two sides to the roof, both of ’em occupied.))
Burrito Loco: ((you on the other side?))
Cecil Lancaster: ((Yeah. Amarra is a very sleepy fox.))
*Trystero hands BL a newspaper clipping. “Here. Don’t know if you’re interested, but this is my latest news.”
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs… and stands up, finally. “….Alrigh’… I’ll go. I admi’ I’m nae t’ mos’ intelligen’ o’ folk. I admi’ I’ve pro’lly earne’ a psecial place in ‘ell fo’ wha’ I’ve done wi’ me life. Bu’, I like tae thin’ I’m goo’ tae me frien’s. I’m loyal tae a faul’, ‘specially tae those I care ‘bou’… If ye wan’ tae talk… Ye know where tae fin’ me.”
Trystero: ((http://skyrates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=4606 ))
*Burrito Loco takes the clipping, scanning it
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs slightly, and moves for the ladder, shaking his head. He moves to the skylight, and the ladder below, finally making his way down.
*Alex Webster notices Markus approaching from above. He’s seen a lot of people using that instead of the door today. “Anyone on bar?”
Trystero: Doesn’t seem to be.
Alex Webster: Hm. Anyone want anything?
*Burrito Loco looks up at Markus, “…I’m alright, thanks.”
*Markus Jarnhann touches down on the floor with a relative thud. He sweeps his gaze around the room, and looks at Loco, looking oddly irritable, as he makes his way towards his table.
Trystero: Nothing for me thanks. ::he nods at the whisky bottle sitting next to him::
*Markus Jarnhann looks at Alex, and utters a single word. “…Vodka.”
*Burrito Loco makes his way over to Markus, “So, she’s feeling that good today?”
Markus Jarnhann: ….Ye migh’ say.
*Trystero watches Markus come down the ladder, looks up at the skylight, and looks back down at the newspapers.
*Alex Webster heads around the bar to find himself an ale, keeping an ear open. He settles on a bottle of the familiar midgardian honey ale, and pours off a pint of it. At Markus curt request, he replaces the ale and searches for some decent vodka. Getting something that looks reasonable down, he finds a glass and takes both over to Markus table.
*Burrito Loco looks back down at the clipping
Burrito Loco: Her brother, eh?
Mairi: ((wha? ))
Mairi: ((BL spying on us again? :P))
*Markus Jarnhann grunts his thanks, as he contemplates the bottle, shaking his head the whole while. He looks up at Trys… pauses, and looks back at the bottle. He looks back at Loco, shrugs, half nods, and shoots a glare in Trys’s general direction, before pouring himself a glass.
Burrito Loco: ((BL can put things together well enough))
Burrito Loco: ((He might not have them in the precise order, but current news+history, it’s easy enough))
Mairi: ((Mairi hasn’t even read the news :P))
Mairi: ((plus she can yell at Markus for a trillion other reasons, guaranteed))
Mairi: ((;) ))
Burrito Loco: ((well there you go then, he just got lucky))
Markus Jarnhann: ((hey now. :P))
*Alex Webster heads back over to the bar, flips open one of the catelogues and retrieves a notebook. Markus didn’t seem to want to talk about whatever the latest problem was, and he didn’t intend to pry.
Mairi: ((bwahaha ))
Alex Webster: ((Catalogues. Spelling failure: engage.))
*Trystero looks up at BL’s words and catches Markus’s glare, to which he returns nothing but a calm expression. After a moment of contemplation, he picks up his bottle and wanders over to the ladder.
*Burrito Loco watches him go and idly wonders if he should call paramedics preemptively
*Markus Jarnhann visibly twitches, one hand grasping the table edge, grinding claws into it as he grabs the vodka, and kicks it back. He veritably slams the glass back down, the moment Trys closes the skylight behind himself.
*Trystero clambers up the ladder and out onto the roof.
Trystero: ((oops, timing.))
Mairi: ((swap, all good))
Markus Jarnhann: ((‘salright. ))
Markus Jarnhann: ((indeed. ))
*Burrito Loco sighs heavily
*Mairi wipes something from her face and turns away from the sound of the opening skylight, curling up and hugging her knees again
*Markus Jarnhann looks at Loco, and takes a deep breath himself, calming a bit. “…Sorr’, mate. ‘Twere.. uncalled fo’.”
Burrito Loco: I won’t hold it against you
*Trystero sits near Mairi and takes a sip of whisky. He holds the bottle out toward her. “Drink?”
*Cecil Lancaster climbs down the ladder, quietly closing the skylight as if to keep from disturbing someone.
*Mairi shrugs slightly, her head still turned and not trusting herself to speak
*Markus Jarnhann nods slightly, the look of fury that was permeating his face more or less subsiding… for the moment. He takes another deep breath, and pours himself another glass, contemplating the clear liquid.
*Trystero puts the bottle down in easy reach for Mairi if she decides she wants some. He leans back and looks up at the sky.
*Mairi wipes at her eyes with her wrist again, curled up on herself and looking out at the horizon in the opposite direction as Trystero
Trystero: Have you ever done something that, when you were done, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders? A weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying?
*Mairi manages a very quiet, dull sounding, “no”
Trystero: Well, now I have. I authorized the release of the logbooks today.
*Mairi gives a small nod of acknowledgement
Trystero: It ought to be interesting to see who comes to look, and who goes searching. But the… the pressure of it is off now. I don’t even feel compelled to put up an expedition myself any more.
Mairi: I hope you’re right ::muttering bleakly::
*Burrito Loco quietly ponders the vagaries of life, why one person’s freedom must bring another’s sorrow
*Trystero sighs. “I guess I’m hoping that giving the information to Skytopia will… set the balances right again. My keeping it secret, keeping it to myself, seems to have led to a lot ofpain and trouble.”
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs, and shakes his head, taking a long drink of the glss he’d left sitting there. He growls softly to himself, and shakes his head again.
*Alex Webster runs his finger down a list of tools, making a note on his pad here and there. He adds up some figures, jots down a total and considers it for a moment. Seeming somewhat satisfied, he pawed back to the index, found a page number and flicked forward to that.
Alex Webster: ((what is it with me and mixing my tenses?))
Trystero: Heh. I know it sounds silly, but I kind of came to think that all the bad things that were happening around me… to people I cared about… were some sort of karmic retribution for my selfishness.
Markus Jarnhann: ((happens to the best of us, Alex.))
Burrito Loco: ((someone’s barking up the wrong tree…..))
*Mairi snorts slightly and says nothing, laying her head on her knees
Trystero: So anyway, maybe this will make up for some of it. But I really came up here for another reason. I want to ask you something.
*Mairi shrugs, finally saying quietly, “no boxes”
*Trystero looks up into the sky and smiles. “No, no boxes.”
Mairi: what then..
Burrito Loco: ((Mairi has more trouble with boxes))
Trystero: Well… We’ve built a special library at CGL to make the logbooks available. Someplace they can be maintained, people can have access, and so on. ::he pauses:: I wanted to ask you if it would be all right to name it after Ross.
*Mairi keeps silent, trying hard to suppress the involuntary spasm of her shoulders
*Burrito Loco stirs
Cecil Lancaster: Awake, are you, ‘rrito?
Burrito Loco: Always, Cecil
Burrito Loco: Something you want to alk about?
*Trystero slides a little closer to Mairi and lays a hand gently on her shoulder. “Mairi… Nothing can ever take away my responsibility for Ross’s death, inadvertent though it may have been. This isn’t about washing away guilt. I want it to be a tribute to him, something that honors his memory.”
*Cecil Lancaster shrugs. Not exactly.
Cecil Lancaster: ((Curse my lack of quotation marks!))
Burrito Loco: ((I miss ’em all the time))
*Cecil Lancaster walks behind the bar and grabs a light ale.
Cecil Lancaster: How’re things with you?
Trystero: I won’t do it if you don’t want it, though.
Burrito Loco: alright, they’re goin’ alright
*Mairi starts crying openly, a torrent of everything held back for so long, unable to answer anything through the deluge of tears and sobs
Burrito Loco: Ennia even looks like she’ll make it
*Trystero puts an arm around Mairi, holding her silently as she cries.
Burrito Loco: I was thinking of getting some fresh air on the roof, what’s it look like up there?
Cecil Lancaster: That’s good to hear. The roof is a bit crowded right now. Trystero and Mairi are talking on the one side, and Amarra is still asleep on the other.
*Burrito Loco fights, and wins to hold a poker face
*Markus Jarnhann twitches again. It seemed to be a recent development of sorts. He kills his glass of vodka, sets it down, and grabs the bottle in handa, as he reclines against the wall, grimacing as he’d forgotten all about the shoulder wound. He shifts, so that the pressure is off, as he props his feet on his table.
Burrito Loco: Hmm, yeah, a bit then
*Mairi leans into Trystero’s shoulder, unable to stop the sudden outpouring of emotion, not even trying as she hangs onto the nearest stable thing, eventually managing a small nod in answer
Cecil Lancaster: Are they letting anyone visit Ennia yet?
Burrito Loco: Yeah, when Mairi dragged Markus to the Hospital, she was seeing visitors
Burrito Loco: She’s still quite weak, but it looks like she’ll make it at least
*Alex Webster looks up from his figures towards BL. “That’s a good sign. I hadn’t heard.”
*Trystero holds Mairi as long as she needs, not saying anything but trying to be quietly reassuring.
Markus Jarnhann: Aye… ’tis true. She were lookin’ fair tae decen’ fo’ a lass wha’ were bleedin’ ou’ twen’y-fo’ ‘ours earlier.
*Trichechus wakes up from his long nap and leaves to the hanger.
*Cecil Lancaster nods. “At least there’s that. I’ll apologize to her when I go visit her.”
Alex Webster: Hm. I’m pleased to hear it. Hear it was pretty touch and go for a while.
*Mairi spends several minutes like this before wiping her eyes again, sniffling and nodding again
Burrito Loco: Just be ready when she’s utterly mystified as to what you’re apologizing for
*Alex Webster closes the first catalogue, before pushing it to one side and examining a list that was underneath. He makes a few more notes.
*Mairi adds in a rough and breaking voice, “talk to Dad..”
*Cecil Lancaster nods. “I don’t imagine she remembers much after being shot. But still…. it’s something I owe her.”
Burrito Loco: Doing your own plane work, son?
*Trystero nods. “I will. You think he’ll approve?”
Burrito Loco: It’s not a matter of what she remembers, it’s a matter of you having nothing to apologize for
*Mairi nods and sits up again, wiping her eyes again
Cecil Lancaster: Understandable or not, I did fail her.
Alex Webster: Aha. Getting the moles to take care of the bits I can’t handle, but I’ll source the parts myself and do what I can.
Mairi: Becca.. tell Becca ::adding as an afterthought::
*Trystero Of course.
Trystero: ((fail ))
Trystero: Of course
*Mairi nods and stands up, wiping at her eyes as she heads to the skylight
*Trystero hands her a cloth handkerchief. “Here yuo go.”
Trystero: ((*you ))
Burrito Loco: Bah, you should do it yourself, I’ll help if you like, but I like to see pilots who can work on their own plane fron the gear to the wingtips
*Mairi half smiles for the briefest moment before saying solomnly, “Thanks Trys”
*Mairi wipes her eyes again and climbs down the ladder, making a beeline for the stairs with her hair pulled down to hide her face.
*Trystero spends a few minutes on the roof, sipping whisky from the bottle and staring out at the horizon.
Alex Webster: Heh. I’d normally do this kind of thing myself, but I’m a little hesitant in this case. I’ve just got myself a Vengence, and I want to upgun it to 20mm. I have… absolutely no experience with big rotary autocannons…
*Markus Jarnhann grins lopsidedly at Loco. “…’Ad tae ge’ tae moles tae make me gun, bu’ I pu’ i’ in meself, an’ do all me own ‘eavy maint’nance.
*Mairi disappears into her room as quickly as she darted through the tavern, locking the door behind her
Mairi: ((tiem to go home))
Trystero: ((byeee ))
Markus Jarnhann: ((see ya.))
Burrito Loco: ((don’t be surprised if Papa ‘Rito comes ’round at some point))
Burrito Loco: ((adios ))
Alex Webster: ((talk to you later…))
*Markus Jarnhann shakes his head as he watches Mai head for her room. He syas nothing, though.
Burrito Loco: Then I’ll help you, Alex, I just hate to see all these pilots galavanting around with equipment they can barely use let alone repair
Alex Webster: Um… I’d certainly appreciate the help, in that case.
Burrito Loco: Just let me know when you’re getting ready to do the load in
*Burrito Loco noticed Mairi, but used years of experience to not show it
*Trystero climbs in through the skylight and downthe ladder, taking his bottle to a couch. He pulls a small notepad and pencil out of his tunic and begins writing.
*Cecil Lancaster looks at the stairs. “Think it’d do any good if I talked to her?”
Alex Webster: Sure, cheers! I’ll need to fly about a bit to collect the parts, some of them aren’t exactly off-the-shelf components at most hangars.
Markus Jarnhann: Likely no’, Cec.
Markus Jarnhann: Jus’…. le’ ‘er be.
*Cecil Lancaster sighs. “I was afraid of that.”
*Alex Webster looks a little troubled by Mairi’s rapid appearance and disappearance, but he decides not to stick his snout where it’s not wanted.
Burrito Loco: Time and space, my friend are concepts you are too young to properly understand in these matters
*Trystero looks up at Cecil. “She’ll be all right, Cecil. Good of you to care, though. I’m sure she appreciates that.”
*Cecil Lancaster snorts at BL’s comment. “You have no idea.”
Cecil Lancaster: Thanks, Tryst. But somehow… I don’t think she wants anyone to care about her right now.
*Burrito Loco merely smiles a wan smile
Burrito Loco: Maybe you are catching on then
Cecil Lancaster: Almost wish I wasn’t, if that’s the case.
*Trystero shakes his head. “You’re both wrong. It’s not that she doesn’t want anyone to care. It’s more that she doesn’t want people to tell her they care. To treat her like she needs to be cared for.”
Trystero: But it’s not my place to speak for her. ::he goes back to his writing::
Cecil Lancaster: Is it inconceivable to her that people might do things above and beyond just the bare minimum they think she *needs*?
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs a bit, and takes a pull from the bottle directly, setting it down at his side when he was done. He starts to say something to Tryst, cand stops, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath.
Burrito Loco: Of course she needs to be cared for, you dolt
Markus Jarnhann: Cec’, mate… jus’… le’ i’ go, will ye?
*Markus Jarnhann shakes his head, eyes still closed.
Cecil Lancaster: Seems to be little I can do except.
*Cecil Lancaster goes back to drinking his ale quietly.
*Trystero looks up. “Was that directed at me, BL? Am I the dolt in question?”
Burrito Loco: It would appear you are at least one of, yes
*Trystero smiles. “She needs to be cared for just as anyone does, but on her terms. And she usually doesn’t like people deciding for her when and how she needs to be cared for. That’s all I meant.”
Cecil Lancaster: How would you ever know?
*Alex Webster finishes his ale and studies his part lists more intently, glad he didn’t stick his nose in.
*Amelia Brightmoon steps downstairs, brushing her silver grey hair and glancing about at the inhabitants.
*Trystero nods. “That’s the tricky part, eh? Sometimes you guess. Sometimes you make her mad. You learn as you go.”
Cecil Lancaster: Well. I got it right once. Screwed up every time thereafter.
Burrito Loco: School of hard knocks, everyone attends, no one graduates, welcome aboard
*Trystero chuckles and goes back to his writing.
*Amelia Brightmoon notices BL, “Hello again Mr. Loco. How are you today?”
*Alex Webster gets up to find himself another ale. “Anyone else after a drink?”
Burrito Loco: Not too bad
Burrito Loco: Yourself?
Amelia Brightmoon: “I am well. I think Silura’s angers and fears are starting to fade.” She leaned her head over and brushed the rest of her hair smooth. Then stepped over to him, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Burrito Loco: Not at all
*Alex Webster having heard no requests pours himself a pint of ale, and sets it down next to his notes. He places the bottle back in its proper place on the shelf.
Burrito Loco: I dunno if she’ll ever be alright though
*Cecil Lancaster nods to the new face.
Amelia Brightmoon: “Thank you.” She smiles warmly and sits down, laying the brush on top of the table and swinging her hair back. “Who? Silura? I can see where most people would assume she is beyond help. But I do not believe that about anyone who is in pain. Pain is not a permanent state of being. It can be healed. Sometimes it just takes delicacy and a patient ear.”
*Amelia Brightmoon sends a smile Cecil’s way.
Burrito Loco: I didn’t say beyond help, but she’s, quite frankly, damaged goods in many ways. Now, don’t take that the wrong way; I’d say I’m damaged goods too, and most people seem to think I do alright
*Amelia Brightmoon leans back in her chair and turns two golden amber eyes towards BL. “I do not believe in damaged goods. Perhaps shaken goods, and battered crates.” She smiled, “But I believe that if you are going to compare people to cargo, that the crate is the psyche and body, and the goods inside are the souls. If the crate takes damage, you can repair it. If the crate shatters, you can take the goods and build a better crate around them.” A pause, “Most people would call me hopelessly romantic for this notion.”
*Trystero looks curiously at Amelia, seems to ponder for a moment, then looks back to his writing. He closes the notebook, stands, and returns the remainder of his whisky bottle to its spot behind the bar.
Burrito Loco: Look, I’ve been on the battlefield for something like forty years. People break. Psyches shatter into too many pieces to ever rebuild.
*Trystero climbs up into the rafters and heads for the skylight, pausing only to nod a goodbye to the patrons of the bar.
Amelia Brightmoon: “If the psyche is broken, you care for the goods until they are healed, and then fix the crate.” She smiled, “I do not believe in a pain that cannot be healed, or a burden that cannot be let go of.” A long, sand colored cloth was pulled from her shirt and wrapped around her head like a bandana. “I would like to help your goods as well Mr. Loco… if you would allow me to see your pains.”
Burrito Loco: what?
Amelia Brightmoon: “Your psyche. You do not speak merely from observations.” She paused to tie the bandana and looked to him again, “…you speak from experience of being broken. I would not be true to my nature if I did not offer to help if I could.”
*Alex Webster lifts an eyebrow, overhearing the conversation while trying hard to appear to not be. He flips through a few more pages of documents and schematics.
Burrito Loco: I’ve made my peace, what do you have to offer me?
Amelia Brightmoon: “The same thing I offered Silura. An extra pair of paws to help you through the pain of letting go of memories that do you harm, an extra pair of ears to listen to your woes, an extra set of shoulders to cry on and bear the burdens with you, and an extra heart to beat alongside yours to help it heal.” She pulled a long, thin silver case from her pocket and laid it before her, “This is all I can offer to your spirit. There are other things I can offer your mind and body to soothe it as well.”
Burrito Loco: I’ve buried that past, dead men tell no tales, there are no tears left and I carry my own burdens
Burrito Loco: And I gave up drinking for a reason
Burrito Loco: ((good luck getting BL to open up, you might be able to do it, but it’ll be a hard road to hoe))
*Amelia Brightmoon can’t help but giggle, “I see. Dead men do not speak, of this I can agree. But they do not speak using lips. If you bury a past, it will haunt your dreams.” She opened the silver case and looked down upon the many two inch long, quarter inch wide capsules filled with dusts of varrying colors. “When your tears have run dry, you have no cried the right way, and when you carry burdens rather than drop them, you decrease the joys you will experience in your life.”
Amelia Brightmoon: ((I am persistant and gentle. :D))
Burrito Loco: Look, I’m glad you’re helping Silura, she needs it. Me? I’ve got things under control.
Burrito Loco: I sleep well enough to make it to the next day, and that’s enough for me.
Burrito Loco: And, I choose to carry my burden, there’s not many alive who could hold me to it if I chose to drop it.
Amelia Brightmoon: “I cannot help you, if you are content as you are.” A pause before she withdrew a capsule with red dust in it. “But if you are ever interested in seeing how content you are beneath the mask you cling to.” She laid it on the table, halfway between him and her, “Open this and put it in a cup of water and drink it before you go to bed.”
Burrito Loco: I told you, I don’t drink
Cecil Lancaster: ((I know whatcha thinkin’, because I been thinkin the same thing ever since I got here. “Why, oh why didn’t I take the *blue* pill?”))
Silura: ((Cecil: You did. Look at your name.))
Burrito Loco: ((wow ))
Silura: ((:-p ))
Cecil Lancaster: ((Wow. I’z been school’d.))
Amelia Brightmoon: ((Dang! XD))
Amelia Brightmoon: “You do not drink water?”
Alorwin: ((I took the green pill. Don’t take the green pill. I’s boysenous.))
Burrito Loco: Not that *indicates the powder*
Burrito Loco: I’ve got enough to deal with sober, I don’t need to be drugged for that
Silent: ((Alorwin, you mean poisonous?))
Amelia Brightmoon: ((Drat. Gotta run. So sorry about this.))
Burrito Loco: ((dun worry ’bout it))
Alorwin: ((No, I mean boysenous. It’s made with boysenberry.))
Burrito Loco: ((Although, BL has been far too in touch with his past for his liking recently))
Burrito Loco: ((one question: what would happen if BL did drink the capsule?))
Wapsitax: ((I think she’s abandoned you.))
Burrito Loco: ((D: ))
*Burrito Loco pockets the capsule anyway
Cecil Lancaster: ((I’m very intrigued.))
Alex Webster: ((let’s assume she actually went somewhere, as opposed to just standing at the bar in silence for several hours :P))
Burrito Loco: ((indeed ))
Alorwin: ((Everyone in RP suffers from narcolepsy))
Alorwin: ((That’s why no one cares.))
Alex Webster: ((heh, so she just suddenly collapsed unconscious on the bar, and no-one thought anything of it? :P))
Cecil Lancaster: ((It’s a *bar*. What’d you expect?))
Alex Webster: ((I expect people to drink something before they pass out…))
Alorwin: ((Everyone does it, Alex.))
Alorwin: ((We just weave around the sleeping people, now.))
Silura: ((Yeah… Because this thing called real life sometimes reaches out and grabs us…))
Alex Webster: ((Really? What is this real life thing you speak of?))
Alorwin: ((There’s a giant ball of fire on the ceiling, in real life. It’s scary.))
Alex Webster: ((Crikey. Not going out there.))
Markus Jarnhann: ((heh. ))
Markus Jarnhann: ((I step out to start working on dinner, and I miss amusement.))
Alex Webster: ((… this is that ‘real life’ thing again, isn’t it?))
Markus Jarnhann: ((indeed. You should try it sometime))
Alorwin: ((Real life is kinda like Second Life, without the flying, and usually without the furries))
Gunnar Matheson: ((Both of which are which real life is not so interesting.))
Gunnar Matheson: ((Also why =:)))
Alex Webster: ((I shall take your advice under consideration. We should really stop the ooc wall now, though :P))
Alorwin: ((c-c-c-c-c-combo continuer!))
Cecil Lancaster: ((/me adds another gleaming golden brick))
Burrito Loco: ((but everyone loves a good ooc wall))
Moros: ((ook. ))
*Gunnar Matheson peers inside the R&P’s front door. “Hallo?”
Burrito Loco: ((you broke it!!!!!!!))
*Markus Jarnhann nods to Gunnar from his spot in the corner, where he’d been silent, but for the ocassional drinking of vodka.
*Burrito Loco sits, apparently lost somewhere
Gunnar Matheson: Guten tag. *wanders over to the bar, takes a seat*
Markus Jarnhann: Gut aben’, or sommat like tha’, mate.
*Alex Webster smiles and raises a hand from over at the bar, before returning to his notes.
*Gunnar Matheson nods to Markus, smiling slightly, and looks around to see if anyone’s tending bar today.
*Gunnar Matheson nods to Alex as well.
Alex Webster: Mairi and Mah are out. Get you something?
Gunnar Matheson: Danke, ja. Have Jagermaltz? Ist green bottle, silver label.
Markus Jarnhann: ….an’ ’twill knock ye on ye arse, if ye arenae payin’ ‘ttention.
*Zekkass returns to the tavern, and heads for the bar immediately.
*Alex Webster jumps up, and scans through the racks. He finds something green, twists it around to find the label to confirm that it’s correct.
*Markus Jarnhann quirks an eyebrow as one of his apprentices, as he views Alex and Zekk, walks straight for the bar at what might amount to a doubletime.
Alex Webster: I’m not familiar with this stuff, how do you want it? Uh, hi, Zek
Zekkass: Hi, all.
*Gunnar Matheson grins widely. “Eine half-glass, pliz, nicht ice.”
Zekkass: I’m going to need something stronger than an ale, today. What do you recommend?
Markus Jarnhann: ‘owdy, lass. ‘Avin’ trouble?
Alex Webster: Right! Straight away…
*Gunnar Matheson peers at the newcomer with a slightly wicked look. “Ah, perhaps to join with in eine glass of Jagermaltz?”
Zekkass: Sure, why not.
*Alex Webster finds an appropriate glass, carefully half-fills it and passes it across. He reseals the bottle and stows it back where he found it.
*Markus Jarnhann smirks at Gunnar’s comment, and nods. “…Aye, lass… ’twill be a goo’ drin’ fo’ ye.”
*Alex Webster then retrieves the bottle, and pours out the same amount for Zekkass…
*Burrito Loco finally comes to
Alex Webster: Anyone else want some, or would you prefer to wait until I’ve put it back, heh.
*Zekkass has a seat at the bar, and sighs. “Can anyone explain the sheer costs of getting your craft overhauled?”
Burrito Loco: Well, I just said I don’t drink, but I’ll be damned if I don’t need some fire in my belly
*Kyuu stumbled, looking around almost nervously for a seat in the bar. Being one of the younger ones, he’d not ask for alcohol, but instead sit in a relaxed manner at one of those table booths.
Burrito Loco: Over ten times what you paid for it
*Markus Jarnhann snickers slightly. “…Weaponry ain’ cheap, love, no’ mos’ othe gear, ‘specially fo’ tae higher-en’ craf’, like ye ‘ve go’ now.”
Zekkass: ((aaand my computer’s not helping my character’s mood, either. My browser closed. Did I miss anything, aside from Markus’ comment?))
Gunnar Matheson: *takes a strong whiff of the spirits in the glass, holding it to his hose with reverence* Ach, sehr gut…
Alex Webster: What’re you after, Burrito? Some of this … Jagermaltz (stumbling slightly on the pronounciation of the unfamiliar drink)?
Markus Jarnhann: ((what was the last you got?))
Burrito Loco: ((I said over then times what you paid for the plane))
Zekkass: ((Your comment about weapons not being cheap))
Zekkass: ((Right, thanks.))
Markus Jarnhann: ((Gunnar: Jagermaltz is the skyrates equivilent of Jagermeister, yeah?))
Burrito Loco: ((you missed nothing))
*Gunnar Matheson takes a long sip, swallows, and sighs through his nostrils contentedly. Mint fumes whirl across the bar.
Gunnar Matheson: ((It’s closest to vodka with peppermint schnapps.))
Markus Jarnhann: ((ah-ha, oka.))
Zekkass: Crazy. It doesn’t help that I’d like a better range, too.
Markus Jarnhann: ((okay, even.))
*Markus Jarnhann quirks an eyebrow. “Shor’ o’ doin’ full on- ki’ work, ye’ll be ‘ard pressed to ge’ extra range ou’ o’ tae Vengeance. Ye may ‘ave tae slap some large’ props on tae beastie an’ call i’ a’ tha’.”
Alex Webster: Speaking of modifications, once I’ve worked out how this crazy steam-hybrid engine works, I intend to have a poke around and see if I can boost the fuel efficiency. Must be something left for it to give me…
*Burrito Loco heads behind the bar and rummages
*Zekkass nods, sighing. “Alright….”
*Markus Jarnhann grins. “…She ‘as some, bu’ no’ much. Ye’d be bes’ serve’ trainin’ ye new ‘gato’ tae ‘elp ye ou’ there.”
Alex Webster: Sure. I’m going to do it anyway, as a learning excercise. No point installing sea-landing skids on her if I put down and don’t know my way around the engine…
Zekkass: ((Good heavens. *pokes computer* Did I miss anything again?))
*Gunnar Matheson nods to Zekass and raises his glass again. “Much fortune mit upgrades.”
Markus Jarnhann: ((if you got my comment, no.))
Markus Jarnhann: ((about navigators.))
Zekkass: ((I didn’t get your comment))
Markus Jarnhann: ((Zekkass nods, sighing. “Alright….”Markus Jarnhann grins. “…She ‘as some, bu’ no’ much. Ye’d be bes’ serve’ trainin’ ye new ‘gato’ tae ‘elp ye ou’ there.”))
Markus Jarnhann: ((that’s where you came back.))
Zekkass: ((Thanks! ))
Zekkass: I doubt she can get my plane to fly further, but I’ll ask.
Alex Webster: If you’re still looking at sourcing parts or suppliers, got a pile of catalogues just over there (indicates down the bar). Borrow ’em if you want.
Zekkass: I think I will – thanks.
*Zekkass scoots down, grabs a few mags, and scoots back. Then she sips her drink.
*Burrito Loco finds something he deems appropriate and retreats to his plane
*Alex Webster decides to leave the bottle on the bar, and picks up his ale.
Zekkass: Well. How are you all?
Markus Jarnhann: …Meh.
*Zekkass shrugs. “Quite.”
Alex Webster: Heh. Meh from me too, I guess.
*Gunnar Matheson takes a swig, completing the toast.
*Markus Jarnhann takes a pull from the bottle beside him. He sets it down, and shakes his head. “…Why dae I always go fo’ tae ‘ardes’ thin’ ‘roun’?”
*Markus Jarnhann says this to noone in particular, and seems more to be musing than anthing else.
*Alex Webster ‘s eyes flick briefly across to the stairs, but he doesn’t otherwise react. He takes a drink of his ale.
*Zekkass blinks, then eyes her drink, then takes a cautious sip. “Certainly…stronger than my usual ale.”
*Alex Webster picks up the bottle of Jagermaltz out of curiosity, and looks at the alcohol content. His eyebrows jump up a little. “That much is certain…”
Zekkass: I think I should stick to one glass…not to say it isn’t good, though…
*Concupiscense peers in through the tavern door, small eyes darting about beneather her scruff of wiry hair. After a long moment, her quarter ton bulk follows her betusked head through the door, and she scuttles to the bar; scuttles as best an oversized sow can, that is. Connie takes a seat and looks about shyly.
Zekkass: Hi there. Who might you be?
Concupiscense: *head darting nervously toward Zekk* “Oh, I, uh… umm… I’m ConcupiscensebutyoucancallmeConnie” tumbles out in a rush.
*Gunnar Matheson chuckles softly and takes a long swallow, then licks his lips.
*Gunnar Matheson nods pleasantly to Conc. “Guten tag, fraulein.”
*Zekkass smiles. “It’s good to meet you, Connie. I’m Zekkass.”
Gunnar Matheson: Ist perhaps longest name have ever heard. Are minding if am calling Conce?
*Concupiscense looks stricken, flummoxed by the unfamiliar phrase. “Bless you?” she replies hesitantly.
*Alex Webster struggles to untangle the babble. “Um… Hi, connie. The people who normally run the bar aren’t about. Can I get you something?”
*Gunnar Matheson looks at Zekass and Alex curiously, ears flicking. “Only Connie?”
Zekkass: I think Connie said we could call her Connie.
Gunnar Matheson: Ach, only last part of name, ja, must be walrus social matter. Am not familiar mit.
Concupiscense: *turning her head once again to face Alex* “Um… ginger ale please?” She looks from face to face. “Yes, Connie. Um. Pleased to meet you all.
Concupiscense: ((*” also, sow, not walrus – easy mistake to make, sorry!))
Cecil Lancaster: ((bbl ))
Cecil Lancaster: ((Going home.))
*Gunnar Matheson nods again to Connie. “Also am.” (ooc sorry, the whiskers threw me)
Zekkass: Where are you from, Connie? If you don’t mind me asking.
Alex Webster: Right. Ginger ale, aaat once… (mutters) prolly in the mini fridge…
Gunnar Matheson: ((That is, TUSKS. Tell ya, my brain is NOT working today…))
Gunnar Matheson: ((I have no idea where I got the image of bristling whiskers on entry.))
Concupiscense: *practically quivering with nervous tension* “Um. Um… Steppe.”
*Alex Webster places a glass on the table, locates the ginger ale and fills the glass. He places it – gently – in front of the sow before returning the bottle from whence it came.
Zekkass: Steppe? I’ve been there – good place. I’m from Leng.
Concupiscense: * takes the glass and drinks, with a slight clink against her little tusks. * “Um… thank you?” She gives Gunnar and Alexa hesitant smile.
Alex Webster: You’re welcome, Connie. I’m Alex Webster, out of Midgard.
Concupiscense: ((that’d be “Alex a hesitant…”))
Concupiscense: P-p-pleased, I’m sure
*Gunnar Matheson returns the smile warmly. “Am from Reichland. Ist far away, beyond Uurwerk.”
Alex Webster: Isn’t Mairi from Steppe?
Concupiscense: Oh, er… um… that’s nice?
Zekkass: As I recall, the last question I was asked was…where are you heading?
Markus Jarnhann: Aye, she is, Alex.
Markus Jarnhann: ((sorry about that, guys. Was eating dinner.))
Alex Webster: Interesting. I think I’ve met more people from Steppe in the last couple of days than at all, before…
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs. “…There’s a numbe’ o’ ’em roun ‘ere’bou’s.”
*Concupiscense looks around, apparently too anxious to focus properly on the conversation. She covers by sipping her ginger ale, too fast, and sneezes. Loudly.
Alex Webster: Hm. Bless you…
Zekkass: ‘cuse you.
Alex Webster: ((heh, I read that as ‘curse you’. Thought, that’s a bit strong isn’t it? :P))
Zekkass: ((Oops? ))
Concupiscense: “Oh! Excuse me! I…” She looks around, desperately, and grabs a napkin off the bar. In her haste, she knocks her glass over, then nearly bends her stool off its’ bolts trying to catch it and grab still more napkins at the same time.
*Zekkass blinks, hides a smile, and moves over to help clean up. “Here…it’s alright, calm down..”
*Alex Webster rights the glass, and looks under the bar to find a cloth…
*Gunnar Matheson lifts his glass to avoid the spill and politely averts his gaze from the flustered boar sow.
*Concupiscense stands still, lower lip quivering.
Alex Webster: Heh, not a problem. We’ll get this sorted in no time…
*Markus Jarnhann quirks an eyebrow slightly, as he examines Connie from his corner. “…Lass, relax. Ain’ nae nee’ tae be worryin’.”
*Concupiscense sits on her tilted barstool.
Concupiscense: I’m so sorry… everytime I come here it’s so embarrassing and I do something silly or dumb and look like a big old fat idiot and I don’t even know why I come here and…
Markus Jarnhann: Take yeself a deep breath. Le’ i’ ou’ slow… an’ sit yeself fla’. Wouldnae wan’ ye tae be fallin’, now. Relax. Ye ‘re among’ decen’ sor’ ‘ere.
Markus Jarnhann: Well, mos’ly decen’. I dinnae accoun’ meself in tae lo’.
*Concupiscense does just that, at least the deep breath part.
*Alex Webster throws a collection of sodden paper napkins into the bin. “Don’t sell yourself short, Markus. You’re mostly decent too…”
Gunnar Matheson: ((Hey Burrito, check world a moment, will you?))
Concupiscense: “Oh, Maggie’s drawers, that skunk is probably here with her giraffe friend, isn’t she?” She looks around nervously.
Zekkass: Who?
Markus Jarnhann: Which skunk an’ which giraffe ye talkin’ ‘bou’?
Markus Jarnhann: …An’ who’s maggie, an’ why’re we talin’ ‘bou’ ‘er draw’s?
*Gunnar Matheson rubs his horns self-consciously.
*Alex Webster silently replaces the sow’s drink, placing it in front of her on the bar – but a little further away, just in case.
Concupiscense: *blushing bright red inside her little ears* “Oh, mother always said to never take King Magnus’s name in vain…”
*Markus Jarnhann chuckles, and grins slightly. “…Pro’ly a wise decision, gi’en ‘ow some feel.”
Concupiscense: *whispering, nearly inaudible* “… and um… um… nevermind about the skunk an’ giraffe…”
Markus Jarnhann: …Ver’ well.
*Zekkass nods and returns to her overly-strong drink. In retrospect, ordering the honey ale would have been a better choice.
*Markus Jarnhann glances around the room, and shrugs, pulling his carving knife from its spot in the table, and using it to inflict further damage, other than the multitudinous stab wounds.
Concupiscense: *clears her throat and looks around. She folds her hands in her lap and speaks as if she was practicing small talk in finishing school* “Lovely weather we are having isn’t it?”
Alex Webster: Yeah, s’good. Heh, good enough that it seems just as popular for people to come in through the roof as through the door, heh.
*Markus Jarnhann quirks an eyebrow at the sow, still carving away at his table. “…I ‘spose.” ::He glance at Alex:: “…Only a ‘andful o’ folk come in tha’ way. Mos’ come in through tae doo’ an’ go up.” He grumbles something about a stupid monkey, and glances around the room.
Alex Webster: Heh, just seems like every time I come in here, everyone is already ‘up’ and coming down…
Markus Jarnhann: Likely sich.
*Zekkass finally finishes her drink and pushes the empty glass towards Alex. “Would you mind getting a honey ale?”
Alex Webster: Certainly can!
*Alex Webster finds a clean glass, and fills it with a pint of good Midgardian honey ale. He pushes it across the bar, and restows the bottle.
*Zekkass takes the glass and drinks it. Much better.
*Concupiscense sips her new drink, and the faintest hint of relaxation can be seen in the set of her shoulders.
Markus Jarnhann: Sae…. Wha’ do ye do? ::He says this, loking at Connie.::
Concupiscense: Hm? Oh! Umm… I trade goods.
*Markus Jarnhann nods slightly. “…’tis a goo’ jo’.”
*Zekkass nods. “It is.”
Concupiscense: *she casts her eyes down and says in a tone that indicates that she thinks the others’ lives are much the opposite* “It’s not very exciting…”
*Zekkass shrugs. “If it suits you, then it’s exciting enough.”
Alex Webster: Eh, so some of us spend some of our time blasting pirates instead of trading. It’s a lot less secure, and a lot more dangerous. Zek is right, if you’re comfortable and it’s what you want to do, then you don’t have a problem.
Concupiscense: I… I… I guess it’s okay…
Gunnar Matheson: ((Sorry for the worldchat flameup, folks. I’m very easily distracted when it comes to correcting heinous errors.))
Zekkass: Do you want to blast pirates?
*Gunnar Matheson sips his drink.
Concupiscense: Oh! Heavens no!
Alex Webster: ((So noted, Gunnar. As long as no-one breaks RP, I’m happy :)))
Zekkass: Then you certainly don’t have to.
Alex Webster: Hm. None of us’ll look down on you just because you do something different…
*Concupiscense manages a look that hovers between skepticism and gratitude.
Zekkass: I can’t say I’m a pure trader, but I do move goods every now and then. Working the marketplace isn’t something I’m good at.
*Markus Jarnhann grins slightly. “…Ye dinnae wan’ tae dae wha’ I dae, lass. Mos’ folk dinnae conside’ i’ very noble, on tae ‘ole.”
Alex Webster: Hm. It’s a skill, trading, without a doubt.
*Concupiscense looks quizzically at Markus.
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs. “…I’m a mercenary, fo’ t’mos’ par’. Collectin’ pirate bounties is mo’ a ‘obby tha’ anythin’ else.”
Concupiscense: *shocked, a paw going to her mouth* Oh my!
*Markus Jarnhann grins lopsidedly. “…Yeh. Tol’ ye, lass.”
Concupiscense: Oh, Magnus save your soul! Heavens to Bitsy, that’s…. that’s… that’s not very nice at all!
Zekkass: ((What’d I miss?))
Zekkass: ((IE is being a pain))
Zekkass: ((Last thing I saw was Connie gasping at Markus’ declaration))
Markus Jarnhann: ((Concupiscense: *shocked, a paw going to her mouth* Oh my!Markus Jarnhann grins lopsidedly. “…Yeh. Tol’ ye, lass.”Concupiscense: Oh, Magnus save your soul! Heavens to Bitsy, that’s…. that’s… that’s not very nice at all!))
Zekkass: ((aha ))
*Markus Jarnhann shrugs. “…Nae lass, pro’lly isnae. Bu’… ‘swha’ I dae. Some folk in tae worl’ nee’ killin’… an’ I ge’ paid tae do tha’. I dinnae take any jobs I ‘ave a pers’nal issue wit’.”
*Zekkass shrugs. It’s no worse than shooting down pirates.
Concupiscense: “Oh, err… umm…” *She looks flustered, but nods slowly*
Markus Jarnhann: Wha’? Say ye piece, lass. Ye’ve nothin’ tae fear fro’ me. I’ve no desire to visit violence ‘pon ye.
*Gunnar Matheson puts his glass back down onto the freshly-cleaned countertop.
Concupiscense: Err… umm… mother always said it takes all kinds?
Zekkass: It does. Don’t worry about it.
*Circle wanders into a bar
*Alex Webster yawns, widely. He finishes the last of his ale, collects his notebook – thankfully at the far end of the bar and unsplashed – and goes to drop any empty glasses he notes into the sink.
*Concupiscense starts nearly out of her seat upon recognizing the giraffe who just entered.
*Markus Jarnhann quuuuuirks an eyebrow at Connie.
*Zekkass waves at Circle.
*Gunnar Matheson looks over at Circle, raises the remnants of his half-glass of Jagermaltz, and grins.
*Circle waves automatically as she ambles across the room
Alex Webster: Right, well, I’m going to be off, ladies and gents. Gotta get some sleep, lots of flying to do tomorrow. I’ll talk to you all later on.
Zekkass: See you later, Alex.
*Circle smiles at Gunnar with a nod as she comes to a stop in front of the bar.
Zekkass: I guess I’ll play bartender, then?
*Zekkass moves behind the bar. “What’ll you have?”
Markus Jarnhann: Ye’re welcome tae, lass.
*Circle sizes Zekkass up for height.
*Alex Webster sends a wave and a smile towards Zekkass, a wave to everyone else, and heads into the evening air…
Zekkass: ((Zekkass is a female fox.))
*Gunnar Matheson swishes his tail, relaxing.
Concupiscense: *whispering to Markus* “omigoshthat’sthe giraffe!”
Circle: Well if you really wanna get me a drink, I suggest a stool or a chair or something.
Alex Webster: ((correction: a nod to everyone else. Because otherwise it makes no sense. Seeya later, peoples))
Zekkass: Then by all means, have a seat.
*Markus Jarnhann quirks an eyebrow, and leans over to whisper to Connie. “…Aye… ’tis Circle. Wha’s yer issue wit’ ‘er?”
*Gunnar Matheson looks behind the bar for the crate of soap.
Concupiscense: *still whispering* “that skunk made me… made me…” *she swallows* “touch her… neck!”
*Circle smirks. “I mean for you. My favorite bottle is way up top.”
*Circle sneezes and looks around suspiciously.
*Markus Jarnhann pauses. His face scrunches up. He tries desperately not to laugh, and looks like he’s about to win that battle, and snorts his way into a chuckle. He composes himself, and looks back at Connie. “…An’ wha’, migh’ I ask, were wron’ wi’ tha’?”
Gunnar Matheson: *chuckles* “We giraffes are liking to grasp at what is often beyond reach of others…
*Concupiscense looks around nervously, searching for skunks and skunk-like beings.
Zekkass: Alrighty, alright. What’s your drink?
*Zekkass gets a drink while she waits for an answer.
Zekkass: *stool
Circle: ((cwned ))
Circle: ((answer to what now?))
Zekkass: Alrighty, alright. What’s your drink?
Zekkass: ((That’s what she’d like an answer to.))
Concupiscense: *hisses under her breath* “it was …. it was… like… sexy!” *her ears very nearly burst into flames*
Gunnar Matheson: ((*chuckles* “We giraffes are liking to grasp at what is often beyond reach of others…))
*Circle chuckles. “I’m looking at the bottle now. If you have options, you aren’t top shelf enough.”
*Zekkass climbs onto the stool, and reaches around, carefully.
Circle: Up there with the old pictures and the clarinette
*Zekkass snags the bottle, and manages to get down. She sets it carefully on the counter, then gets a clean glass.
*Circle smiles and mumbles a thanks as she uncorks what remains of her hybrid fruit brew and empties it into the glass.



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