[NEXUS] Taverna Generica 30: Triple-X? Or Triple Sec?

[Kaelaroth]

Taverna Generica


"אלכוהול מוגש כאן."
TAVERNA: Teh Acronym's Victoriously Extraordinary Realm of Nice Alcohol Yes, The is not normally included. Hence, "teh"
or
PUB: Place of Uberous Bavardage

Credit for that to Blue Umbrella for that particular Acronym

Please do not update this thread if it goes past 50 unless you have express permission to do so.

Description:

Before you stands a stout, heavy building, constructed from dark, grey stones, with crossbeams latticing neatly across the foundation, up to the heavy wooden, and thatched, roof above. An inn sign hangs outside, eroded by age, the image undecipherable, the name withered: TAVERNA GENERICA.
On the front door, someone, seeming recently, has inscribed the words Enjoy your time! Someone has also hung a sign, offering ACRONYMers work in the bar, permanently, though, in reality, you'll have to work your way up.
The tavern is in walking distance from any Acronym organisations, and other major Acronym landmarks and Inside (note, it is not in Inside, but a roadside tavern along a country highway).

Inside, there is a large bar area, capable of seating at least one hundred people, with tables, big and heavy, and dark red leather chairs, aged yet comfy, littered about in a disorganised style. Old, oil paintings, of landscapes and battles, are hung randomly about the place, and a roaring fire constantly blazes to one side, nicely illuminating the baby grand piano, and well-worn dartboard. Shuttered windows look out onto the streets outside. Behind the bar, an assortment of NPCs man the bar, all middle-aged, pot-bellied men, with bad body odour, and too much stubble and wart issues. And, still further behind them, are the drinks, many hundreds of thousands of them, ranging from the mundane, to the mystic. From the bar, one can also buy typical bar foodstuffs, like pork scratchings, and dragon-flavoured nuts and kettle chips. One can also order proper food, in dizzying variety, from the kitchen, at rather high prices. By the bar, a sign reads "No Wanton Telepathy or Reality-Warping, Please.".

Behind the bar is a large kitchen area, designed to cater for large functions, staffed by unnamed NPC slaves and servants. The technology in the kitchen has been imported from another dimension, there are incinerators, ovens, microwaves, and fridges, unlike the typical level of technology in this dimensional quadrant.

Beneath the kitchen and bar area, accessible through a hidden staircase, lies the gigantic, mysterious wine cellar, filled with ancient drinks, and age-old graffiti, filled with dust, barrels, fine clarets, pure Chardonnays, vintage burgundies, and other fine wines...

There is no upstairs. There used to be, true, but it's now a one-floor building.
There's a small stables outside, where horses, ponies, and smaller mounts can be stored, and the NPC stableboys are perfectly capable of sending larger mounts and vehicles to other, larger, holding places off-site, when required to. A hire service working from the stables can send off for rentable mounts, but there is an NPC heavy warhorse stored there, by the name of Cookie, who can be rented for dramatic entrances, and the like, for a much more modest price.

The only spells on the tavern are ones that prevent alcohol from being watered down, and another that stops the entire tavern being destroyed. Portals, and teleports, are perfectly allowed within, though frowned upon if they appear in places where they're not wanted.

IC Rules are as follows:
1. No listening to unhappy songs during happy hour!
2. No killing the staff.
3. No vandalism.
4. No thieving!
5. Not so much a rule, but we'd like to remind customers that we retain the right to refuse and kill customers, and no responsibility can be taken on our part if you're evicted, injured, or killed, by Taverna employees.
6. No drug use.
7. No food and drink brought in from other establishments is to be consumed here without staff permission.
Breaking of the rules may earn ACRONYMers banning from the tavern, or a fine. Or, in certain cases, other ACRONYMers, or NPC policemen and bounty hunters, may be employed to hunt down the nasty, nasty people who broked the rules.

OOC Rules are as follows:
1. No controlling the NPCs to do anything that would be considered unlike them to do. You're permitted to make them serve your character(s) a drink, but no, let's say, make them get drunk and burn the place down. Of course, you could always make it clear your character is mind-controlling them into doing such as thing, for example, but you cannot make them do anything out of the ordinary, and make it seem as if they were doing it out of their own free will.
2. No destroying the place, or doing something to it that'll produce a similar effect (for example, no placing a massive time freeze on the entire area forever). You're allowed to damage it, but destroying it just takes the fun out of it for all the other players.
3. No godmoding/godmodding. Even if it's permitted in some ACRONYMs, it isn't in others, and therefore shall not be allowed in the taverna. The occasional mishap's OK, repeated offence isn't.
4. Players are allowed to make NPCs speak in whatever tone, colour, and font they so choose, though, in keeping with pre-established tradition, the female NPCs normally speak in orange, the males in gray. NPCs can be played by anyone.
5. Please try and keep posts longer than one or two lines of speech. Description is appreciated. One-or-two-liners that don't do much are OK once in a while - but not regularly.
6. If you want random smashy hahaN00BlulzFun, here's not the place. Anything spammy, random, or just plain annoying, can go! Of course, if your silliness is in moderation and well-roleplayed, and considerate of other players, then welcome in.
Repeated rule violaters (in nearly all circumstances OOC, but perhaps IC), can be punished by being IC banned from the thread. And therefore OOC banned to, under threat of mod being called to remove you for breaking thread rules.

7. No smut, RP sexual activity, etc. Take it elsewhere, "this is a family thread".

[McBish]

Adam the man in search of aliens walks inside looking around. He pushes his thick glasses up his nose and looks around.

[nanobot_swarm]

I'd imagine he'd see this:

...nightmarish warrior. The warrior is about eleven feet tall, with dark-blue skin, no lips, welded-on armor covering the arms, waist down area, and a plate upon the head, and the body is covered with numerous arrows and partially broken spears that have stuck themselves within
After just having smashed a table to splinters. It'd be kind-of hard to miss after all.

[Lord Magtok]

There's also a dead cyborg in purple robes, sitting in a chair with his face lying down on a table, next to a Futurama reference and a questionable club sandwich.

[Kaelaroth]

There's an incredibly loud woman's scream from behind the bar, seemingly from the serving staff's bathroom.

Who could it be? And why're they screaming?!

[McBish]

Oh my there is so much going on it seems. Adam looks around a bit alarmed. He glances at the nightmarish warrior and frowns backing away into the wall. He slowly moves towards the screams hoping that the warrior doesn't see him as he makes his way that direction.

[Kaelaroth]

Said screams continue, 'til the barmaid Irora stumbles out to behind the bar, obviously responsible for said scream, her make-up running down her face.

[nanobot_swarm]

Adam fails to draw the warrior's attention, but the screams do. It steadily makes its way over to the bar, each step causes the establishment to shake, and anything in its way gets swiftly flung into the wall be a powerful backhand.

[McBish]

Adam slowly continues to circle around towards the screams. If the monster man heads towards Irora with cruel intent he will do his best to pull her out of the way.

[Kaelaroth]

My sister! She.. She.. Irora says, bursting into fresh rounds of tears - and then a look of surprise takes over her face, as, manifesting as if she's emerging from a suddenly there fog, Happy appears in the middle of the Taverna, eyes glowing a bright, furious purple.
George?

She looks around, for help and hindrance, or, just, for something! Something to help her wake her darling up. Cursing, she fades away again, leaving only startled barstaff as proof she was ever there.

[Reinholdt]

Vincent walks in. "You'd think after asking twenty or so random NPCs someone would have given a vague clue about who Cynthia is and how to find her, but noooo..." :smallannoyed:

He looks around for another NPC to take a chance on and bug.

[Kaelaroth]

Irora runs up to Vincent. HELP! HELP! My sister, she was.. she was.. She was alive! Help me, sir! Her tears stream down her face. How pretty.

[Reinholdt]

"Is she all... dead and flickering now? Cause that seems to be contagious. Show me." Side quest! Probably.
He doesn't see how it may be related to the main one yet anyways.

[Kaelaroth]

She was flickering in the mirror, sir! She said she was looking for.. for.. But then she said I looked fat, and that it'd be better when the world ended because then her former patrons wouldn't have to see a cow like me waddle about the bar! Irora says, bursting into fresh bouts of tears as she leads Vincent into her small changing room, where, near lockers and benches, is a large mirror.

[Reinholdt]

"Well if it helps, I don't think you're a cow." Elephant maybe. Whale perhaps. But not a cow.

Vincent looks in the mirror. "Hello? Flickering dead person? You in there?"

[Kaelaroth]

Reflected in the mirror is, not Yasmin, but Amelia, a pale broken girl, with running make-up, and truly crazed smile on her face, as she flickers about, here and there. I don't know you, I do declare! She exclaims, joyous, before vanishing away to nothing much at all.
.. That wasn't my sister. Irora says, swiftly. Confused.

[Reinholdt]

"Not your sister? This dead flickering thing really is contagious. Hi person in the mirror!" He taps on the mirror to make sure they hear him.

[Kaelaroth]

Amelia reappears again.

Oh wow! Hi! I'm Amelia, but I don't know why. I think someone killed me a little while ago, but at least I didn't get the psychics because Butler and I thought his crazy friend had that, and, sure, I'm dead, but at least I'm not crazy and melting loosely in my brainpan! Hey, wanna play a game, kiddo?
Her big, wide eyes stare unnervingly out at the two people in front of her, making Irora shriek and run out the room.

[Reinholdt]

"Oooh! A mini-game! I'm in!" Not sure about her not being crazy, but can't turn down a mini-game, even from a dead ghost mirror.

[Kaelaroth]

Kiss me, and let me free! I don't know why I can't get out myself, but it'll be super-duper fun! Clearly, there're rules and rhymes and reasons to dark Hell magical stuff, but Amelia was doodling on her foot with a stiletto-heel's point that lesson.

[Reinholdt]

"... That's not a mini-game at all. That's an obvious bad guy trick to get me to let you out so I have to spend the next forth to rest of the game tracking you down and then killing you or capturing you again." :smallannoyed:

[Kaelaroth]

Oh. Is it? Oh. Can we play Monopoly then? I'm good at that! I get all the train stations FIRST and FOREMOST because then you can go to the Disney castle and poo in Pluto's shoe. Or cards? Amelia asks, taking a set out of Vincent's reflection's pockets.

[Reinholdt]

"Cards make an excellent mini-game! Let's play cards!" :smallbiggrin: Vincent finds some sort of chair to pull up and sit down at if there isn't one already.

"Oh by the way, do you know someone named Cynthia?"

[nanobot_swarm]

Vincent apparently failed to notice the nightmarish warrior (who shall be called Gaius for sake of convince) who was making his way over to the bar. After wrecking the bar, it takes notice of the very loud Vincent, and Irora who was crying and sees them enter the changing room. Swatting away everything else in its path, including another drunkard who hit the wall with a groan and a snap, it makes its way over to the changing room, and smashes down the door and surrounding wall to enter.

[Kaelaroth]

Oh, sure! She's down here with me, we're all burning brightly and burningly and hurtingly together, forever, ever and always! Amelia says, smiling brightly. Do you know how to play Alek's Head? She blinks at the wall being smashed down, confused.

[Reinholdt]

"Must be another Cynthia then. The Laws clearly state she'll live long enough for me to at least find her and if she does die thereafter, it'll be in a dramatic cutscene. And no never played that."

He turns to look as the wall is knocked down. He had just thought the nightmarish warrior to be a particularly humourous NPC the sacred Programmers put in for kicks. Obviously he was something of a mini-boss. Grinning he draws that sword that's taller, wider, and heavier than he is and points it the warrior.

"Looking for a fight?" :smallamused:

[Kaelaroth]

Amelia promptly sighs, grumbles, takes off her head, and falls out of the mirror back into Hell.

The flush of pink fire proves it!

((deadtime))

[nanobot_swarm]

The only response from Gaius is a loud roar and a smashing of fists. It charges towards Vincent intent to ram him into paste.

[Reinholdt]

The beast may find its attack suddenly halted just a foot away from Vincent as the entire world cracks, shatters, and then reforms with Vincent on one side of a room, Gaius on the other, and menu screens dictating their actions from here on out, along with dramatic boss music.

If that doesn't happen, then everything slows as the screen cracks, then suddenly a disk scratching sound can be heard as the screen becomes whole again and the charge completes, Vincent rolling out of the way just in time. Benny Hill music starts to play instead.

[Kaelaroth]

Happy is once again ejected from the translocation-fog, her eyes bleeding purple tears, as, with commands aplenty, she radiates telepathic power out to NPCs and guests, who start to do her bidding, each taking up the spade she gives them.

Dig!

She stares at them as they start to work, going to town at their work on the Taverna's main room's floor, digging for something beneath the earth.

George. She breathes.

[nanobot_swarm]

Unfortunately for Vincent, Gaius does not share his delusions, and ends up smashing straight through the wall and ends up outside, luckily missing the JRPG hero. If Vincent has any sense of reality, he might notice that Gaius's back makes a good target.

[Reinholdt]

It's not delusions! There's been at least a dozen instances where Vincent had actual turn based combat. Obviously, he just knows how and when to follow the laws of the universe.

Of course, he also knows the cliche "Step out of charging monster's way, let them hit wall, stab them in back."

Which Vincent runs forward to do. His sword is magical and designed to cut through some of the softer metals, and he has a little trinket that drains magic energy from whatever he attacks.

It's probably a good thing he's in combat, real-time or turn based, otherwise he'd be stuck in a cut scene, digging. Though as soon as combat is over, he may have to deal with that anyways.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos undeadtimes and looks about. Don't ask me what he's been doing for the last few weeks, because I sure don't know. Let's go with the mystically vague "magic studies" and leave it at that, hm? In any event, when the emerald-garbed wizard notices he's gone and undeadtimed in the middle of... some rather weird affairs, he tries to stand up and make his way outside without attracting any unwanted attention.

[Kaelaroth]

Smaragdos undeadtimes and looks about. Don't ask me what he's been doing for the last few weeks, because I sure don't know. Let's go with the mystically vague "magic studies" and leave it at that, hm? In any event, when the emerald-garbed wizard notices he's gone and undeadtimed in the middle of... some rather weird affairs, he tries to stand up and make his way outside without attracting any unwanted attention.

Unless rather strong in the mental department, he may well be caught up in the nearby telepathic, screaming command to dig. And, hey, even if not, he may have some difficulty getting past the throngs of people, desperate and raving, who are digging like wildfire, as if their lives depend on it.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos resists the compulsion, but the command still echoes in his head. He realizes he can't escape the building without blasting a bloody hole through the crowd, and starts seeking out the origin of the telepathy. He makes sure to stick to the walls and corners, both to avoid being crushed by the mob, and also to guard against falling into the (presumably) widening hole in the ground.

[happyturtle]

Aren't they just going to break through the ceiling of the cellar? Or does that only extend under part of the building?

Below the Taverna, George's bones are there to be dug up.

[Kaelaroth]

The wine cellar's under the kitchen.

Happy is the obvious cause of the telepathy, her yells a drumbeat as her eyes bleed fiery, purple tears. DIG! DIG! DIG! She yells, 'til, fairly soon, her slaves find the bones - and Happy jumps into the hole, cradling them in her arms.

[Morty]

A looming presence below the Taverna - even below George's bones - unaffected by the command as it has no mind comparable to that of a human's, watches the goings-on with... mild amusement.

[Kaelaroth]

A looming presence below the Taverna - even below George's bones - unaffected by the command as it has no mind comparable to that of a human's, watches the goings-on with... mild amusement.

Deeper than the sunken graveyard filled with angry, waiting-to-be-unleashed spirits, or at the level of the holy crypt submerged, filled with the primordial deities? Or nearer the level of the present left under NO?
Or nearer the Hell I keep mentioning?
.. I need to stop shoving stuff down here every few months. :smallsigh:

[FireFox]

Hey, woman! Who do you think you are, to enthrall these peasants so!? Oh dear. It seems, in a rare moment of self-righteousness, Smaragdos has lost his sense of self-preservation. He tries to move forward indignantly and stops in confusion when he sees the charnel treasure.

[Morty]

Yes, you do. :smalltongue:
The presence is near the level of the "present" left under NO, since it has also caught its mild interest.

[Kaelaroth]

Be a little boy again. Happy snarls, her command a pulsing scream. That's all any of us are. The crazed, purple-stained woman says, laughing a devil's laugh all a-sudden, as she realises what's accomplished. My George. My beautiful man.

I'll save you.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos clutches wildly at his temples, swaying on his feet but managing to stave off the psychic imperative. It takes him several seconds, however, to compose himself, but then he determinedly advances.

[happyturtle]

The skeleton falls apart as she tries to pick it up, no flesh left to hold the bones together.

(has no idea if this is what would happen or not to a body buried in raw earth for over a year)

[Kaelaroth]

Strong in the brainpan, are we? Well. Let's try something very simple, shall we? You're in anger. Cortisol. Angry. Fight or flight, that stuff is, so all I need to do it turn the lever just a teensy-eensy, weensy little bit, eh? RUN. And fetch me a.. Oh, what am I doing? Away I go, to build me my boy...

Happy giggles, and sweeps herself away, teleporting with less speed than usual, lumbered by her boney-labour, which she gathers up as best she can.

[FireFox]

That command, assuming there was actually another command in there, gets completely brushed off as the mage steels his mind further. Luckily, perhaps for both of them, Happy teleports before Smaragdos can attack. Quite annoyed by this point, and with no real target available, he focuses and attempts to return the frenzied, enthralled patrons to their normal states.

[Morty]

The looming, deep presence rises, and rises, and seeps through the floor of the Taverna, where is solidifies into a goblin. A very average goblin, grey-skinned, grey-clad, with large ears, pointed fangs, crooked limbs and bent back. He is more or less what people think of when they say "goblin". He watches the goings-on with a smirk.

[Kaelaroth]

That command, assuming there was actually another command in there, gets completely brushed off as the mage steels his mind further. Luckily, perhaps for both of them, Happy teleports before Smaragdos can attack. Quite annoyed by this point, and with no real target available, he focuses and attempts to return the frenzied, enthralled patrons to their normal states.

They aren't that hard to calm, really.

They're just rather confused.

[FireFox]

Then Smaragdos goes to take a look into the hole. Whatever he sees, senses actually, is enough to make him shudder and send his fingers fluttering through an arcane sign to ward off evil spirits. Then, still slightly at a loss, he tries to magically refill the hole and fix up the floorboards.

[Kaelaroth]

There is so much evil lurking, in various forms and locations, beneath the Taverna, that it's understandable that bad things are sensed - but the floor's easily repaired if done right.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos, after giving the goblin a wary glance (he really hasn't met very many people who haven't attacked him at some point), retires to the bar and orders a stiff drink.

[Morty]

I have arrived here in interesting times, haven't I? The goblin says to Smaragdos, apparently deciding he's the most worthy person in the room.

[FireFox]

Oh, this? Heavens no, this is boring. You should see the dinner crowd. No, Smaragdos has not been in the Nexus long enough to know that for sure. He's just being sarcastic and venting his frustration. :smalltongue:

[nanobot_swarm]

The sword lodges itself into the monster's back, stuck like the spears and arrows, and it causes Gaius to howl in pain. If Vincent decided to hang onto his blade, he's going to go for a ride, as Gaius charges back into the Tavern, roaring and trying to get it out. If not, he might want to fetch it.

[Morty]

The goblin laughs. Smaragdos may or may not notice his voice is deeper than a goblin's voice should be. Oh, it is going to be come even more interesting soon enough. Things are being dug up that are better left buried.

[FireFox]

Unfortunately, Smaragdos does not have much in the way of comparison. At least he's gotten used to things that don't look like normal humans by now.
You don't say? His curiosity gets the better of his grouchiness. Do you know anything about that mad witch and those bones?

[Morty]

She is not who she seems to be, that much I can tell you. Why she wanted to dig up those bones, I do not know. I intend to find out more. Others, mad and torn from their resting places like her roam the land now.

[FireFox]

This sort of thing is precisely what got me here in the first place... That's said more to himself than to the goblin-shaped being. This is quite the insane world, is it not?

[Morty]

It is fascinating. Brimming with power, and potential. Quite unlike many others.

[FireFox]

Indeed. Would that I could have my chance to tap in, but... His eyes flick to the newly repaired floor and then back up to the goblin. But sometimes it is best to avoid drawing attention to one's self.

[Morty]

Very wise. It is something I have to practice as well. Now, however I must depart. The "goblin" nods and disappears. Just like that.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos sighs and goes back to nursing his stiff drink.

[McBish]

Outside on the roof the of the taverna Adam is climbing up around. He is carrying a antenna in one of his arms and seems to be trying to attach it to the roof.

[Reinholdt]

The sword lodges itself into the monster's back, stuck like the spears and arrows, and it causes Gaius to howl in pain. If Vincent decided to hang onto his blade, he's going to go for a ride, as Gaius charges back into the Tavern, roaring and trying to get it out. If not, he might want to fetch it.

Oh Vincent has no intention of letting go. He latches on, more than fine with taking a ride as he works to pull his sword out of Gaius. He's not exactly shouting with glee granted, because it's combat and you don't do that until the victory screen!

[nanobot_swarm]

Gaius futilely attempts to grab Vincent as he thrashes around, stumbling into the main tavern area and making a mess of it even further.

[Reinholdt]

Well if it's going to be futile and there's nothing stopping him, Vincent pulls his sword out and hops off his ride, kicking forward in hopes of knocking the beast over as he does so. "There's a pun here about seeing you next fall, but I rather loathe it."

[FireFox]

Smaragdos undeadtimes and relaxes in the currently quiet tavern.

[ApeofLight]

Kadogurraq the dwarf is sitting at a table looking over what appears to be maps of some sort. After a minute or two of this he finally slams a gauntleted fist on the table. " Gahhh! Thas whole thang da not make any sense!
"

[FireFox]

Smaragdos looks over, then gets up and quietly walks around the table, to see what the dwarf's talking about.

[ApeofLight]

The maps on the table look like star maps. Some look extremely professional with a few marks here and there in dwarven runes and some not so professional with even more marks on them.

It seems to be the tracking of the stars around here in the nexus but more importantly it seems that meteors, meteorites, etc are what are being tracked. The dwarf in full plate starts to grumble to himself. " Tis suppose ta fall wit' in tha area ba' thar never thar. "

[FireFox]

Smaragdos' face lights up, being a wizard, he is rather interested in star charts. So he tries to learn as much as he can, as well as try to figure out what the dwarf means.

[ApeofLight]

The dwarf continues to look at the charts and then leans back in his chair tapping the table. " Wha' ta do wha' ta do... " He says and then finally notices Smaragdos looking at the star charts. " Can I help ye? " He says flipping over a couple of the charts pretty much obscuring everything.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos steps back. Sorry, I was just interested in your charts. Is there some sort of problem you have with them...?

[ApeofLight]

" Nay, not wit tha charts. Jus' wit tha meteors tha should be fallin. " He says starting to pull his maps in and securing them.

[FireFox]

Oh? He frowns, puzzled. Perhaps there is some force that deflects them before they hit?

[ApeofLight]

" Nay. " The dwarf says shaking his head. " I'v found some of tha spots whar they land but no meteor. Othar times tha whole thing is completely pulverized. "

[FireFox]

Hmm... Then someone must be taking them. Starmetal is good for forging and I... I have heard of... magic rituals involving rocks from the sky...

[ApeofLight]

" Aye, my people have religious beliefs for tha sky rocks. Thangs made from tham are our most prized possesions. "

[FireFox]

This whole place is filled with like-minded individuals, I am sure. You will have to beat them to the next meteorite.

[ApeofLight]

Kadogurraq sighs and nods. " Tha problem wit tha is a dwarf in full plate is not very fast. "

[FireFox]

Smaragdos shrugs. So find out where one will land, and camp out there...

[ApeofLight]

" Ah, but thar be anothar problem. Tha skies shift too much ta tell until it's almost too late. " He says holding up a finger to the wizard as he finishes packing up his star charts.

[FireFox]

Do they really? He sounds even more intrigued now. I mean, I haven't been here very long to make charts myself, and it's been too cloudy and stormy at nights anyways...

[ApeofLight]

The dwarf nods and it makes a clanking sound with all of his armor on. " Aye, tha skies shift ta here and thar but if ye can find a reference ye can find mostlay everythang else. "

[nanobot_swarm]

Unleash Vincent's kick is the equivalent to a speeding truck, he's not going to knock Gaius over, considering he's 11 feet tall and weighs around a ton.

[Reinholdt]

But, but... it's all about momentum and leverage and...
Well fine.
Though if he's 1 foot tall, the sword probably killed him, being rather much larger.

Vincent recovers himself and prepares a counterattack should Gaius turn around and want to try some more.

[nanobot_swarm]

(Sorry, it was supposed to be 11 feet, but my keyboard hates me, especially the space bar)
Gaius turns around and attempts to hammer his fists down on Vincent.

[Reinholdt]

Vincent, having prepared earlier, ducks under the blow and makes a swipe for whatever Gaius has that may qualify as knees.

[nanobot_swarm]

Unless his sword is good at slicing through armor, it will either bounce off to no effect, or strike in, stopping at the bone, and release a flow of blackened blood from the steel covering.

[Reinholdt]

But his sword is good at cutting through armor! It does it all the time and is even magical and stuff so it can cut through metal.

He quickly withdraws his sword afterwards, not wanting to get into yet another of those "It's stuck" situations.

"Lousy boss monsters with their high HP. A little help here? Random guest PC? Excellently timed regular PC? Intruding cut scene to allow one side or the other to escape, swearing vengeance?"

[nanobot_swarm]

Unless someone intervenes Gaius will charge again, intent on killing his foe.

[Reinholdt]

Two days. Not likely.
Vincent gets smacked rather heavily by the charge, for massive hit point damage. Granted Gauis goes right through Vincent when he does so as if he wasn't there, but dang if it didn't hurt mightily. As Vincent spins in place, holding his head, a flash of light occurs and suddenly a faded, brown scene plays out:


[The Glass Citadel]

The flying Glass Citadel climbs high in the sky. This needed to be seen for miles. Reinholdt steps to the center of the room, the television prepared in the background, the NPC he found to one side. The bottom of the Citadel flattened out and started stretching, then the small area above it, and above it, until a pyramid of glass angled up at the room was present.

The bottom of the Citadel stretched and stretched and stretched. Until the biggest flat screen tv ever invented flickered to life, the Citadel bending the light so that it was Reinholdt who appeared on the bottom for all the world to see. The Citadel then bent and wrapped itself around so that he had gigantic glass megaphones heading in all four directions. Surround sound. It was something of a miracle there was enough glass left to provide structure and keep the thing afloat. But now… now the entire world could see his face. And hear his voice. Now… the proclamation could go forth!

“Attention citizens of the ACROverse! For those who do not know, my name is Reinholdt, Herald of Astir.” Reinholdt gives his flourish, this time to the whole world. “As most of you know, this world is a mess. Villains run wild and free through our taverns and our streets and no one stops them beyond temporary setbacks. Plagues are rampant and commonplace. Apocalypses occur weekly. And there’s always another undead trying to eat your brain just around the corner. Too long have you lived in fear. Too long have you lived in squalor. Too long have you lived in despair! That changes now!”

“I have found a way to make life brighter. A person that shall bring hope to the world again. One who will rule it wisely and justly. Who will punish evil doers and commend the righteous. Who will end the plagues of this land and heal the sick.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I hereby pronounce the founding of ASTIR’S KINGDOM! From the bright blue oceans of Outside to the slums of Inside, all of the ACROverse shall kneel in his name.”


“Long live Astir!”

“Now, my first act as Astir’s Herald is to bring about justice. Many of you are aware of the cyborg Magtok. For far too long he has run free through the world. The mad scientist is even condoned by those who claim to be good. He has stolen your cash, your lives, and your peace of mind. He has experimented on you for no reason other than he can. Why, this fine lady over here was victim to Magtok just recently! Come here, come here.” The woman comes into view, trembling slightly. Reinholdt puts his hand on her back to calm her. “Now. Tell us your name.”

“Marian Smith.”

“Now then Marian. Why don’t you tell us what happened? Go on. Don’t be shy.”

Marian clasped her hands nervously before beginning. “Well… sir. I was minding my own business one day. Preparing to go out to the park with Tom and Penny, my husband and daughter. Just as we were starting to head on over, all of a sudden we were someplace else. Surrounded by a lot of confused looking people. And then a man with half of his face covered in metal and purple robes… Magtok sir, he flew up and started singing. And when he started singing, all those… hideous… horrible robots of his started attacking. There was fire and blades and everyone was screaming and running and…” She breaks into sobs.

“There there. It’s ok.” Reinholdt pulls her into a d’awww… hug. “Please. When you’re ready. Take your time.”

Marian sniffles, but composes herself. “I ran as fast as I could, trying to hold on to Tom and Penny. But I tripped and lost them. They… they were killed by him sir. They never did anything to him. Why’d he do it? Why’d he kill them…?” She breaks into fresh tears. Reinholdt does his best to shh and comfort the poor NPC. “And… and… I was saved by this woman. I ran. When I finally stopped to look back, the two were chatting it up like old chums! I learned later she was from GLoG.”

Reinholdt thanks her and leads her away softly before returning. He pauses in front of the camera. After a few seconds he wipes a tear from his eye, before staring straight and speaking with conviction. “For far too long, they have let Magtok get away with whatever he pleases! Why if this was the fullness of his crimes, he may, he may have been salvable. But the fact of the matter is, this is rather the least of his atrocities.”

“In fact just yesterday, Magtok blew up two of his MagPlanes over an innocent crowd in an assassination attempt.” The Glass Citadel screen moves away from Reinholdt and refocuses on the actual television screen. Reinholdt puts in a tape that shows Magplanes flying, and writing disparaging statements about Reinholdt before swooping down to blow him up. There is no sound and Reinholdt stops the tape right after the explosions. The Citadel focuses on Reinholdt again. “He thinks that because he’s mastered cloning technology he can get away with killing whomever he likes! It is only by Astir’s power that I escaped unscathed. The rest of the bystanders… were not so lucky.”

Reinholdt pauses and speaks a bit quieter as if going into a secret. “As you all know, a recent apocalypse nearly came to pass, and a great deal was lost. The catalyst for this was actually a small child. Formed from Magtok’s own scientific experiments. His meddling.” Reinholdt shows a picture of… not Shepherd, but one as close to Shepherd as he could find. Which would still have obvious differences. To the very few people who actually saw Shepherd. One of which was recently killed by Reinholdt. So for all anyone knows, it could be.

“Do not be deceived. This is the child that ripped everything away from you. This is Magtok’s meddling. And you know what? He claimed to learn his lesson. Claimed to not want the end of the world. Claimed to fight to protect it.”

“LIES!!”

“For he has created yet another apocalypse machine. Another child to bring about the doomsday. Cynthia!” The Glass Citadel screen moves away from Reinholdt and refocuses on the actual television screen once more. Reinholdt puts in the second tape of the security footage from GLoG. The one that he picked up a hard copy of when Magtok sent in a clone to frame him. The footage of Cynthia. He pauses it right on her, so everyone can get a real good look. Once again, there is no sound.

“Do not be fooled! Like the last child, she appears innocent, but like the last one she shall rip everything from you! Your homes, your family, your friends. Anything and everyone you hold near and dear she will destroy! This cannot be allowed to come to pass!” The view focuses back on Reinholdt.

“Magtok is a dangerous foe. A smart foe. For all his lack of morals, he makes it up with deadly cunning. He will, good citizens, forge evidence against me and Astir. He will make up lies and attempt to spread it to you in a desperate effort to save himself and turn you against me. But do not fall for them. They are the words of the devil incarnate. Anything Magtok says… anything he shows you… can not be trusted.”

“Magtok’s reign of terror has gone on long enough. His experiments with death gone too far. His attempts to end the world without a hint of remorse too inhumane. The madness must end here! Peace shall be brought to this land! And in order to do so, I personally, as my first act as Astir’s Herald, shall put an end to Magtok and his doomsday device Cynthia! Not even his clones will be left standing! Down with the madman! Down with Magtok!”


“Long Live Astir!”

The communication ends as the Glass Citadel shifts back into its normal form. He had more announcements to make. Bureaucracy, homeland security, the hospital, and all that. But for now, he had to get Magtok before he had too much time to prepare.

The Glass Citadel starts lower its elevation and heading towards the MagCave.

The room returns to normal after "Holy backstory flashback, Batman! I was there! One of the kids in the Citadel. I KNOW WHO CYNTHIA IS!" Truthfully most people do, but they've long gone and not cared or forgotten.

Of course, all this cut scene stuff in the midst of a fight means Gaius has the opportunity to turn around and sneak up behind Vincent. Yes, even being 11 feet tall and weighing a ton. Doesn't matter how loud you are, if you sneak up during a flashback, it works.

[Cealocanth]

Erias Goldtiger (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=8982326&postcount=104) enters Tavern Generica with Redwing crouching on his shoulder like a parrot. To his surprise, he finds an all out battle between Gauis and Vincent already underway.

Erias and his partner take a seat at the bar to watch the fight. After a bit of complaining from Redwing Erias orders a bowl of shaved pork for Redwing to snack on. A namless NPC serves it to them, and they proceed to watch the chaos insue.

[Morty]

Michalson, an emaciated half-elf in grey robes, appears in his usual corner.

[Cealocanth]

Redwing, while stuffing his face with pork shreds, looks with pity at the skinny half-elf in the corner. He hops over to Michaelson and offers him a little bit of his pork with a friendly growl.

Erias notices his companion over at the half elf's table and walks over to join him.

Redwing has taken interest in you, half-elf. Why do you think that is? Erias asks.

[Morty]

Michalson puffs a cloud of smoke from his pipe. Up close, Erias and Redwing will notice a stiched wound on his forehead. No idea. Is he attracted to mages?

[Cealocanth]

Redwing blows a puff of blue smoke back at Michaelson playfully.

He tends to like the smell of magic items, but he's never been attracted to a person before. Have you been eating anything magical lately?

[Morty]

Not unless the barstaff has been adding something to the food. Michalson is definetly in a better mood than normal today. I can't help but notice he seems to have brought me food.

[Cealocanth]

So it seems. An offering of food and smoke, he really is going all out for you.

Erias sits down in a chair next to Redwing. He leans in and asks the dragon What is it about this man that you like? The dragon responds very quietly.

Erias looks up at Michaelson. He says you smell good. The dragon speaks in a mess of clicks and hisses, correcting Erias.

Like eucalyptis.

[Morty]

Michalson can't help but laugh a little. Why, that's the first time someone said I smell nice.

[Cealocanth]

And it was in Draconic of all things!
Erias takes a second to see if he smells the eucalyptis, with no avail. He takes out a 6 inch long black rod with runes on the sides and casts a spell.

Meanwhile Redwing begins making a pile of shredded pork in the middle of the table, of which he proceeds to char into a pile of black, burnt, shredded pork.

I can't find anything. Whatever he's smelling it's not physical or magical. Erias then notices the pile of smoldering pork. Gah! He stands up suddenly, obviously taken aback.

[Morty]

Michalson snickers. I think I like the little guy. Meanwhile, a large gray rat wakes up and scurries from under the table onto Michalson's shoulder.

[Cealocanth]

Redwing looks up and stares at the rat. Confused at what dinner is doing on the smelly man's shoulder.

Is that your fammiliar?

[Morty]

Yes. And before your little friend tries to eat him, he's not actually a rat. He's a being from the Shadow Plane.

[Cealocanth]

Ahh, that doesn't sound very tasty at all.

Suddenly Redwing loses interest and hops off the table at the sight of a real rat. He gives chase, running and bouncing like a velociraptor.

Erias takes out a lens with a gold border around it and looks at the rat through it.

He doesn't give off much heat at all, you speak the truth.

[Morty]

So, what brings you to the fair land of the Nexus? The shadow-wizard decides the newcomer is more interesting to talk to than most people.

[Cealocanth]

Is that where this place is? Where is that exactly?

A loud squeak is heard coming from the corner of the room.

[Morty]

Michalson shrugs, a bit dramatically. I don't know. Noone does. I'd say it lies in the centre of everything, because people and things from absolutely everywhere can end up here.

[Cealocanth]

No wonder I can't find this place on the map.

I heard that there was a rare species of dragon here. They are beings made from the energy of the universe and fly between dimentions because they belong to none specific. I heard that the only place where I could go to search for them was in a strange land called Nexus. I paid a mage to Plane Shift me here, and here I am.

Erias takes out his explorer's journal.

In here is where I catalouge all the species of dragon I encounter. I'm hoping that I could record a sighting of the great beasts during my time here.

[Morty]

Michalson nods. I've never seen such a creature here, but it doesn't mean it's not here. But if they do exist, they probably found their way here.

[Cealocanth]

I'm sure they will. After all, there has to be a creature native to Nexus somewhere.

Redwing returns with a dead rat in his claws. He adds it to the pile and continues to search for rats.

So why are you here?

[Morty]

I ended up here by accident. A portal that was supposed to lead to Curst led here instead. He shrugs. I figured the place was worth investigating at least and I stayed here.

[Cealocanth]

I see. I have not yet found the reason to stay here, but I may sometime in the future. Erias begins to ponder the location of the creature.

[Morty]

Oh, it's a great place. I'd never have thought I'd find a place to match Sigil, but here it is.

[Cealocanth]

Erias looks somewhat more determined. Isn't there an organaization of mages or something that could help me find the dragon in Nexus? Perhaps I should see them.

[Morty]

No, there's no organization of mages here... but if you keep looking, you're bound to find someone who can help you.
He then deadtimes, sadly.

[Cealocanth]

Erias looks dissapointed. Oh. Then I'll just have to keep looking. If you don't mind, I think it's time for me to go. This has been a very helpfun introduction to the Nexus. Thank you.

[nanobot_swarm]

In the time it took for Vincent to have a flashback, Gaius grabbed him and is now violently shaking him when he comes to his senses.

[Reinholdt]

Grabbing and shaking is indeed under the list of flashback return possibilities, though it is generally used in more humourous games where the monsters forget they're monsters for a while. Said actions are acceptable.

"Oh. Right."
Vincent calmly slips down out of Gaius grip, taking advantage of the little remembered fact that he's an elf and can be stereotyped sometimes for it. "I can't fight you any longer. I've already wasted enough time and this game has a really weird time job engine. Behave yourself!"
He then turns and tries to run out of the tavern. Hopefully Gaius will just find less insane prey or something and not try to block Vincent's exit.

[nanobot_swarm]

Gaius will now try to charge out after him, and unless he is stopped, there's going to be a large holes in the front entrance, and several more NPC casualties. Considering all the damage this tavern must have taken over the years, insurance will probably cover all of what Gaius did.

[Reinholdt]

"OH GEEZ. He's following! What's that mean, what's that mean?" :smalleek:
Obviously it means no random battles along the way. Just a cut scene entrance to the Magcave (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=124262) where Vincent runs towards it with Gaius following.

[Kaelaroth]

Irora, the put upon barmaid, or, rather, the barmaid who thinks she's put upon, when, rather, business's been slow recently, phones up an insurance company...

[FireFox]

Smaragdos undeadtimes, sipping water at his table and people-watching.

[Reinholdt]

A portal from hell (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=161348) opens up in the middle of the tavern and out stumbles Reinholdt Prime, portal closing behind him.

He looks about the tavern. Figures he'd end up here.
And now he's got a mission to go find Happy or Rabbit and start the Shepherd apocalypse all over again.

To hell with that. He has no intention of starting that again. The last time, he ended up shooting his own son and then Rabbit left him for that man-whore Amour. He can't imagine any punishment Shepherd might come up with that would be worse than that.

Still, he'd rather not end up back in hell. He'd have to find someone who knew a bit more about cosmology and send some heroes or something to hell to stop Shepherd from taking over the place completely. Cause once that happens, he's reasonably sure Shepherd will be all over him like Death over a terminal patient. That or find some way to sever Reinholdt's link to hell. He briefly wonders if this makes him some sort of demon or something like that.

But first.
A drink.
Oh dear lord some actual liquid refreshment after a near eternity of screaming torment.
Grinning he pulls a waitress aside as he sits at a table.
"My dear. Bring me some water." :smallbiggrin:

[Murkus]

A masked figure (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=8991512#post8991512) bursts through the door, dashing in and leaping deftly onto an occupied table. The figure is dressed in a cheap, loose suit of blinding, brightest yellow, with a carefully straightened black tie. A male voice, crisp and clear, emanates from behind the vaudevillian face-covering.

"Avast! At attention, assemblage of this admirable urban alcove. For your analyzation, an apparent arrogant, obviously asinine, but adjust your assumptions a miniscule amount. Against your astoundingly astute observations and assertions, an argument. "

'He' suddenly shapeshifts, becoming a rather attractive 'she' in body and voice. Her voice is still swift and good-natured, despite the shape change. She places her hands on her hips. Her hair, still dark, grows outward immediately, into long, flowing locks. Still, the mask remains. "I am never as I appear."

She flips easily off the table, swaggering forward. "Abate your amazement, if you please. I doubt such an abrupt appearance has attracted much admiration. But I am no antagonist of absorbing intoxicators. Return to attacking your alky. I too am at this alehouse for but one reason: to have the awesome accident of becoming absolutely aching with alcohol. Just know that it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance and you may call me A."

With that, she approaches Reinholdt, seeming to take interest. "And you are?"

Seem someone not only likes attention (and V for Vendetta), they also have a flair for the dramatic.

[Reinholdt]

"An admirer." Reinholdt retorts, grinning. :smallamused:

"Or Reinholdt, Founder of Astir's kingdom." Reinholdt performs his trademark flourish. "I'm certain you've heard of me." Who hasn't heard of the founder of today's dominant government, right?
Cause Astir's kingdom has totally swept the world. Obviously.

"So magic, artifact, or natural?" Reinholdt asks.

[Murkus]

The shapeshifter places her chin in her hand and an elbow on the table. If Reinholdt looks close, he'll see eyes of astoundingly average blue.

"Oh, of course I've heard of you and your kingdom. What fool hasn't?" She comments, lying rather convincingly.

"And I can't honestly say where I got my powers. Maybe because I don't know..." Reinholdt might sense a flicker of a smile beneath the mask. "Or because I'd prefer not to say."

[Reinholdt]

Astoundingly average. Oh you lovely oxymorons.

Reinholdt shrugs. "That's fine. I won't force you to reveal your power source."
Reinholdt takes a big drink from his glass of water and sighs lovingly, eyes practically rolled back.

"I tell you there is no finer drink in all the lands."
It helps if you haven't anything to drink for a very long time.

"So I'm afraid I'm a bit behind on the times. What news is there?"

[Murkus]

A continues watching Reinholdt rather intently, peering at his cat-ears. "Mm. I can't say I've been keeping up with the times lately, friend."

"But I can say I've never seen a man take such revel in drinking simple ice water. Or a woman, for that matter. Devil got hold of your tongue?"

[Reinholdt]

If only he still had cat ears and a tail. That would have at least differentiated him from the other Reinholdt. But nooooo, Furiel had to change him so they look exactly the same.

For the record, it's flaming hawt Reinholdt described below:
Merely a man. A really, really amazing man. Screw Jazirian, Harth, Fanboy, even... Wait. He's probably, in fact, the most attractive humanoid to have ever walked the universes, in an over-hyped, inhuman, Stephenie Meyer described, kinda way. Take Amour’s intrigue (without the weird loner, and lover, issues), Nomlas’ boldness (without the uncouth idiocy, and ignoring the occasional bouts of OMG-cowardice), Vespe’s flair (without the moral weakness – don’t try and deny it), Butler’s sexiness (without the overtones of rank easiness), Fanboy’s gothic impressiveness (without the tendency to get on your nerves), and everyone else good looking you can think of’s attractiveness (without that ugly stench of mortality). He has slightly pointed ears, pale, almost luminous skin, big, red-pink eyes, lacking pupils, and a wiry, muscular physique, that screams effortlessness. He's flaming hawt. Of course, anyone who was in the Waves plot might recognise the form of Prince Kaelaroth Maschin of Magtok-Armennia.
Only all of those characters are old, dead, and or mostly perma-deadtimed.
But you get the picture.

"Eternal damnation. To think! They gave ME eternal damnation after I worked so hard to make this place safe from maniacs and psychopaths." Like Magtok. And Sunny.

"Oh well. Guess one can't just up and erase all the other worlds I had a hand in. Well... maybe erase isn't the right word. Anyways, enjoy water. It's subtle, but oh so very good."

[Murkus]

And because they're all old/dead(timed) is precisely the reason I haven't heard of any of them. Well, actually, Vespe I have.

The shapeshifter leans back, draping her slender arms over the chair-back. She seems to be admiring his body. Or perhaps looking to claim his form for herself.

Being perfectly neutral, she offers no opinion on what Reinholdt might've done to get into hell.

"So. You're out. Free. Untrammeled, as the more archaic man might say. What now? What's the plan? The big idea? The goal?"

"Or is it a bit too soon for that, and you just want to enjoy some damned water?" No pun intended.

[Reinholdt]

"Mostly just enjoy the water. But I was sent here to start the stupid multi-verse apocalypse all over again. Wish I had never gotten involved with that stu... Calublufiok... lousy..." He trails off grumbling in general. Not too happy about it.

"Regardless the point is to make sure that DOESN'T happen. So what group did Astir's Kingdom put in charge of protecting the multi-verse? You know... like a secret police or Watchdogs or something similar. Who's responsible for that?"

[Murkus]

Hm. A's talking to someone who's job it is to destroy the multiverse. Yet she seems relatively unfazed at all these odd things that Reinholdt is saying. Probably just the mask hiding it.

"That, I think, would be Watchtower. I've heard mostly rumors, though. I was considering hiring myself out to them as my first job here in the Nexus, as they seem to be my sort of people."

"Them, or one of the other Acronyms." A remarks, stretching in her chair.

[Reinholdt]

Less a job and more like a fate that the universe keeps throwing on him even after he said no.

"Watchtower, huh? I'll drop by there soon enough then. What about you? What's your big goal aside from looking beautiful?"

Oh. Right. THIS Reinholdt.
:smallannoyed:

[Murkus]

Pfft. Like the attention-seeking shapeshifter will mind comments in the slightest.

"Hm. You certainly like the sweet-talk, don't you?" She says, genuinely smiling beneath her mask. Perhaps a bit suggestively.

"Honestly, I haven't thought that far ahead. No big goals or plans, for the moment. Just enjoying myself by whatever means necessary. What more could a being ask for, anyway?"

[Reinholdt]

"Oh I can think of a few things at least.

Reinholdt finishes up his water and puts the glass down, standing.
"But first things first. I wish to see this Brave New World of mine. I hope you don't mind if I deprive you the pleasure of my company? At least for the time being."

[Murkus]

The shapeshifter shrugs, mask concealing facial expression. Her tone is smooth and nonchalant. "Please, be on your way. I'm certain you've missed a lot. Maybe we'll bump into eachother at Watchtower, if I happen to go looking for a job."

"I do hope to see you around." Another vague smile, and the shapeshifter's off to the bar, that same swagger in her hips.

[Reinholdt]

"With any luck." And with that, Reinholdt Prime heads out into the world.

Which isn't Astir's kingdom at all, hates him with a fiery passion, and is raining.
Wellllll HELL.

((deadtime))

[Murkus]

Hm. So now there's a pretty girl in a mask at the bar. Hooray.

G'night, Nexus. It's been real fun.

[Moff Chumley]

A dreadlocked, bespectacled half-elf walks into the building, his eyes constantly darting around the tavern taking in details. His tough, durable clothes are rather offset by the briefcase he's carrying. He'll sit down at the bar, gingerly set his briefcase down in front of him, and order a glass of water.

[Murkus]

The half-elf might find a shapeshifter-lady beside him, whether he sat next to her or not. She peers at him from behind her Guy Fawkes mask, blue eyes curious.

"You know, you're the second man I've seen ordering water tonight. I believe they have drinks here that can affect elves and their like, if you'd be interested." She glances at the suitcase. "I mean, unless you need to stay sober."

The woman turns to a bartender. "I, however, do not. Give me something foreign-sounding and high in alcohol content."

The bartender does, and she takes a deep draught of whatever it is. "Mm. Good stuff."

[Moff Chumley]

The half-elf wrinkles his nose. Not right now. Perhaps once I get settled in.

[Murkus]

The shapeshifter simply shrugs, pushing up her mask just enough to take swigs from her drink. "Suit yourself."

"What's your name, pal?"

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena. Just got into town yesterday. You know anything about Nexus?

[Murkus]

The yellow-suited mask-wearer taps the chin of her facial covering, the other hand clasped around her condensating drink.

"I've been observing the goings-on for a few months, so yes, you could say I know a few things. What do you need to know?"

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena opens his briefcase, and pulls out a battered laptop. Opening a text file, he turns to the stranger. I study magic. A friend recommended I would find lots of new material in Nexus, and I need a place to start. Of course, I also need a source of income and a place to stay... I was planning on working that out on my own, but if you have any suggestions...

[Murkus]

A narrows her eyes, considering. "Cataloguing magic, eh? Well, the place we're in provides fine beds. There's also loads of hotels around for living quarters. As for income..."

She takes another drink. "I'd go for one of the Acronyms, if you want more high-profile work. It can get kind of dangerous, though. The Acronymian Empire also offers work to people it can use."

"As for magic... well, magic's everywhere here. There's far too many places to name that would inform you about magic. I'd suggest you poke around, search for opportunities."

[Moff Chumley]

Thank you. I heard about the Acronyms back at home. Not something that sounded appetizing back then, and it isn't really now, but I suppose I'll have to get tangled up in them. Anyhow, thanks for your help. I'm going to poke around. Oh, and I never got your name...

The half-elf packs away his things, drains his glass of water, and offers a handshake.

[Murkus]

A gladly takes the hand, shaking gently. "Just call me Anon. And you're quite welcome, sir."

Ilyena might catch a smile beneath the Fawkes mask. "Best of luck with your poking endeavours."

[SinisterPenguin]

A sinister penguin sidles into the tavern. His name is, appropriately, Sinister Penguin. He wears a pretty stylish red suit and red hat, and his eyes glow bright red.

Who is he? What's his game? Why's he hanging out in a tavern? Who knows?

[Lord Magtok]

A Magclone slithers in, ordering "Whatever won't kill me until after I get home" as his drink. He really doesn't seem to be in a very good mood, but given everything that's happened to him today, I don't blame him.

[Reinholdt]

Oh poor Magtok. Such a stressful day. Sit down and relax and enjoy that fine drink in a place that's generally quiet and horrible things won't happen.
Of course, this only means his rest must be disturbed.

Over his table opens a lovely swirling portal. There's a shout of surprise and a *WHUMP* as a figure lands smack in the middle of Magtok's table, likely knocking over any drink he may have had and maybe even landing on him if he was leaning in the wrong direction.

The figure groans as it acclimates to its surroundings.

"Owww sir..."

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok, completely unphased by all of this, idly pokes at the head of the thing in front of him with one finger, almost certain it's just some incorporeal trick. In fact, he almost says so.

Shep...Cynth...Shepia? Let's go with Shepia for now.

Shepia, this one is just overkill. The fact that I'm linked to you and those apocalypses and everything else is just about enough, bringing up the subject of Butler is just rude at this point. I thought we were done with this, that I'm broken enough as is for now. I mean honestly, this one doesn't even fit in with your whole theme of guilting me, this was one of the few tragedies that was genuinely not my fault.

[Reinholdt]

Butler looks up as he is poked.

"Magtok sir! HI SIR! I missed you sir!" :smallbiggrin:
Magtok may find himself suddenly hugged from the shirtless catboy on the table.

He looks around.
"Who are you talking to sir?" :smallconfused:

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok scowls, gritting his teeth together as he tries to ignore the hug and focus on not letting "Shepia" turn him into a blubbery mess again.

Let go of me. The Butler I knew died, some horrible lich killed him right in front of me. You're not really there, just a trick to...just some scheme to make me hate myself for not doing more. You're...you're-

Magtok hesitates for a moment, remembering that Cynthia was completely incorporeal, she didn't approach him, that there wasn't any implication the shape-shifting might be possible now that he knows that it really was Cynthia out there.

In other words, it's really him, Maggy.

Ohmygodsyou'rerealforgeteverythingIjustsaidgodsI'v emissedyoumorethananythingneverdieagainorI'lltelew arptocatboyheavenanddragyoubackdownmyself.

Try not to break his ribs with that hug, kay?

[Reinholdt]

Who break who with the hug? Magtok or Butler? :smalltongue:

Butler just gives him a really blank look as he tries to keep up with the conversation and fails for the most part. He looks down at himself and pokes his leg.

"I'm pretty sure I'm real sir. It would be very hard for me to speak if I weren't sir." :smallconfused:

"But I'm glad to see you're still around sir." :smallsmile:

[Lord Magtok]

Not sure, really. :smallconfused:

Anyways, it's quite likely that Maggy might take a minute or two longer than expected with the hug. He's been in a bit of a rough patch lately, after all, I'm not surprised.

It's not cause I don't believe it's you, I do, but would you mind explaining how it is you're here and not doing catperson things with Decker and the rest of your entire species in catperson heaven?

[Reinholdt]

Butler eventually extracts himself from the rib crushing hugs and crawls off the table to sit down in the seat across from Magtok.

"Why am I here sir? Well this person sent me sir. Decker called him a... diet sir. Which doesn't make much sense to me sir, cause he didn't seem to be food at all sir. Anyways, he said something about balancing the... see-saw I think it was sir. I wasn't paying much attention sir. Decker was being very distracting at the moment sir." Decker would distract Butler will important cosmological figures are trying to explain the balance of good and evil to Butler. SHE JUST WOULD.
Granted, I think it was silly to try and explain it in the first place.

"Decker said something about shoving things sir, which I don't think would work on a see-saw because you sit on it not shove it sir. And the diet got kind of mad sir. But she didn't want me to go and I didn't want to leave her sir. So I asked if she could come too sir. And Diet said he would work something out later sir. I asked him why he couldn't work something out right then cause she was right there sir. He told me to stop asking so many questions sir, before picking me up and throwing me here and telling me to stay until the see-saw was balanced sir."

"Diets are stronger than they look sir. And kind of grumpy sir." :smallconfused:

Butler pauses.
"Have you seen any playgrounds around sir?"

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok blinks, doing his best to piece together some sort of coherent story, before eventually giving up on solving this see-saw mystery and accepting things as they are.

No, I can't say I have seen any. An amusement park maybe, but no playgrounds. Maybe GLoG had one installed recent-

No, that's where the Cynthia nonsense is going on, don't send him there!

-No, Watchtower, I think. You should go check with them first.

The least he could do in return for all their cooperation is have Butler visit them first.

So umm...I'm not sure if they mentioned it up in Catperson heaven, but bad things are trying to end the world again. It's more or less my fault for trusting someone I shouldn't have, and not believing the ones I was supposed to. Be careful out there, please.

[Chas the mage]

A Rather muscular looking imperial sits, his eyes blank - or his single functioning eye, that is. The other is dead and constantly looks straight ahead, with a scar across it. He has many, many scars in various places in fact.

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena materializes into the Taverna, his glasses glowing for a split second, before sitting down and attempting to get sh*t-faced.

After his first few beers, he'll turn to the imperial. Hey buddy, want your eye back?

[Reinholdt]

Magtok blinks, doing his best to piece together some sort of coherent story, before eventually giving up on solving this see-saw mystery and accepting things as they are.

No, I can't say I have seen any. An amusement park maybe, but no playgrounds. Maybe GLoG had one installed recent-

No, that's where the Cynthia nonsense is going on, don't send him there!

-No, Watchtower, I think. You should go check with them first.

The least he could do in return for all their cooperation is have Butler visit them first.

So umm...I'm not sure if they mentioned it up in Catperson heaven, but bad things are trying to end the world again. It's more or less my fault for trusting someone I shouldn't have, and not believing the ones I was supposed to. Be careful out there, please.
Coherent story: Butler was sent back to balance the amount of good and evil in this world. Since he was pretty much Reinholdt's only good character that ever stuck, he was the only option.

"I'll be careful sir. And visit the Watchtower sir. And whatever you think you did, I'm certain that you only had the best in mind and it was an accident sir. You have to trust people sir." :smallsmile:

Butler realizes something and starts to panic. "Oh right sir! I haven't been able to dust or vacuum or mop GLoG at all sir! It must be really dirty sir! And no one's been giving the tours sir! What if the drones took my job sir?!" :smalleek:
Those mean drones!! :smallmad:

Butler was kind of off dying when the catpeople destroyed the old GLoG.

[Chas the mage]

"That depends how" He says, with his imperial accent, his voice raspy, as if he's been smoking. His breath also shows signs hes been smoking - lots and lots of lots of things at that. His mechanical right hand taps its fingers on the table, and his gaze is down towards his kilt and mechanical legs; one of which is entirely prosthetic and the other is from the knee down.

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena sets down the bottle he's been industriously draining. Magic! Everyone around here seems to take magic for granted, but then they don't think about it... it'd take about half an hour and be intensely painful, of course, but I can grow you a new eye, right inside your skull, right now.

[Chas the mage]

"I can't really pay for it..." he says, his expression unchanged.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos undeadtimes, slowing getting drunk at the bar.

[Moff Chumley]

"I can't really pay for it..." he says, his expression unchanged.

You can tell Ilyena is getting pretty hamered. I'll do it for free! I've taken enough eyeballs in my time, it's time to give one back, isn't it?

The imperial may have some doubts about letting the obviously drunk mage operate on him.

((Deadtime for about 30-45 minutes.))

[Chas the mage]

"Hell, why not," he says, and then catches the attention of a passing barmaid, "I'll take a scotch - no, the whole bottle." he sighs

[Recaiden]

For a short while, Plum (http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/1006/d23/0103/68fb350.png) and Seren (http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/1006/d23/0137/b3b2295.png), coincidentally the two crazy-looking ones, enter the Taverna as instructed.
They advance slowly, Plum holding a feather defensively in front of her and Seren's glove tracing itself in red lights.

[Moff Chumley]

Hey, it's just your face on the line. :smalltongue:

Ilyena busts out his laptop, dives through his databases, and finds the spell. Hey, Cosmo, I'm gonna take an olive, alright? Without waiting for the bartender to respond, Ilyena grabs an olive, and cups it in his hands, muttering for about two minutes. When he's done, he removes a knife from his briefcase, and turns on the officer. Alright, this is the easy way of doing it... you won't be able to feel your face for an hour or two, alright? Ilyena mutters for another few seconds, anesthetizing the officer's face. Then he goes to work with the knife, cutting a hole where the eye used to be. All blood seems to be kept at bay. Once the hole is large enough, Ilyena will shove in the olive and begin muttering again.

Anyone watching will see the olive become a pearly white, and the officer's mess of a face will begin to stitch itself back together. This proscess takes about ten minutes; when it's done, the white orb will roll forward, revealing a perfectly normal eye. There, does that work?

Despite the blood supposedly being held at bay, Ilyena's dreadlocks are matted and sticky.

[Chas the mage]

"It worked" He says, blinking. The new eye seems in better condition than his other one. He finishes off the bottle of scotch, sits up and smooths out his kilt with his mechanical hand.

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena will chuckle a little under his breath, and take a swig from Chas's bottle. Take that, anyone who said you can't do magical surgery while hammered... hey man, what's your name?

[Chas the mage]

"I'm Aether... Its only a designation, I don't have a real name..." He says, with a rather distant look in his eyes.

[Moff Chumley]

I'm Ilyena. Nice to meet you. Ya know, maybe that paladin will get off my back for mutilating those people...

[Chas the mage]

"Uhhmm... well then" He says, "Mutilation is not fun"

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena leans back in the booth. It was... he says in a rather booming voice, FOR SCIENCE!

At this point he beggins tearing up.

[Chas the mage]

"Science?" He scoffs "Science, religion, ritual, country, nation, progress... its all a load of s***" He says, pulling out a medal from his pocket and flinging it into the table with such force that it stick into the wood.

[Moff Chumley]

And now Ilyena is openly weeping. You know, she's wrong. I hate myself for what I did. That's why I don't do it anymore.

((I apologize for my character's incoherentness. It seemed like a good idea to add some depth :smalltongue:. Although abusive drinking is kinda becoming a theme for my characters...))

[Chas the mage]

He looks at him "Ermm..." He rolls his eyes and snorts something

[Moff Chumley]

Ilyena somehow notices Aether's discomfort. Gulping, he pulls out his laptop again, and finds an anti-drunkenness spell. Within a few minutes, he's back to his normal businesslike self.

He nods his head. Pleasure doing business with you. He leans in closer. And if you mention this to ANYONE, I can turn your eyes into olives a lot faster than I turn olives into eyes.

>.>

<.<

Ilyena teleports off into the night.

[Chas the mage]

"Don't you think someone would've seen you perform the surgery..." He mentions, mostly likely in vein, as he teleports.

[Lord Magtok]

Butler realizes something and starts to panic. "Oh right sir! I haven't been able to dust or vacuum or mop GLoG at all sir! It must be really dirty sir! And no one's been giving the tours sir! What if the drones took my job sir?!" :smalleek:
Those mean drones!! :smallmad:

Butler was kind of off dying when the catpeople destroyed the old GLoG.

It's umm...Sorry, your fellow catpeople blew up the old base.

Magtok blinks, and quickly tries to clarify before Butler gets even more panicky.

But they found a new one! Nobody got hurt, there's no more drones, and there's a water slide and an island now! It's this great big fancy campground a summer camp used to use! You've got lawns to mow and stuff too, if you want! And there's no drones to get in the way, cause the ghosts there are too lazy to clean!

[Reinholdt]

"But... I'm not a gardener sir. I'm a butler sir." He's not sure how to take this. An outside base? He can't work in an outside base! He's supposed to be inside making tea and scrubbing floors!
Maybe Watchtower needs a butler...

His ears droop a little as he realizes his favorite book was probably blown up too. Along with his picture and his new dust kit.
But...
"At least no one was hurt sir. I'll be sure to drop by and say hi sir. Where is it sir? Oh, maybe they have a see-saw sir!" Yeah, he's already over the loss of his stuff. It's sad, but no big deal.

[Lord Magtok]

Not that far, it's just over-

Directions are provided, with a number of helpful landmarks and a few sprinkles of advice on how to avoid getting hopelessly lost along the way. Magtok has suspicions that Butler would probably have trouble finding his way out of a supply closet, and tries to carefully ensure he won't accidentally end up at the KNAVES castle or something.

[Reinholdt]

"Thanks sir! I'll go to Watchtower now sir. Hope to see you again soon sir." :smallsmile:

Butler will order a Nuka-Cola to go and then head out.

[Chas the mage]

The Imperial sits, now with 2 eyes. there a scar across one but the eye was replaced thus it is interrupted by that. he has many scars, though, and is very large and muscular - the parts of him that remain at least. He is missing one leg entirely, and the other from the knee down, as is made manifest by his kilt. He has a white shirt with many tears revealing many wounds and scars, ranging from precise surgical scars to deep crude ones inflicted in means that are probably blades; and some are burn scars - consistent with holes and burns in the shirt itself. He has a tartan sash across his chest, possibly to cover some of the holes. He is extremely muscular, and smells of many drugs and alcohols.

[Reinholdt]

And now that Butler's gone, Reinholdt hobbles in one his broken leg, not bothering to even look around the place, and takes a seat, ordering something strong to drink. Well, several things actually.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos undeadtimes, drinking listlessly and looking around.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok waves Butler goodbye as he goes, and then turns his attention towards the formerly felinoid individual in the Taverna.

Oh, hey Rein! Are you the one from Hell who's undoubtedly concocting some horrible scheme to kill me, or the one I shot over in Lethargia who probably wants to be left alone?

[Reinholdt]

Reinholdt looks up and notices Magtok.
He scowls and reacts without thought. "Actually, I'm rather fond of the idea of you dying too after what you did." He says summoning a pistol to fire at him.

Except it doesn't work when his shoulder flashes and he lets out a yelp of pain, his hand going up to hold it.

"Just... just leave me alone." Reinholdt tenses up. Without weaponry he can only dodge. And he'd rather it not come to that.

[Chas the mage]

The imperial undeadtimes, his description further up the page. Hes currently drinking.

[FireFox]

Smaragdos the mage undeadtimes, watching the exchange between Mag and Rein curiously. He's given up on really understanding anything here these days.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok almost rises out of his seat when the gun is taken out, but settles down when Rein's shoulder fails to cooperate.

Well...Yeah, I suppose that was a pretty nasty thing of me to do. You were holding Darcy hostage a moment ago, though. Could've at least called off the catgirl for you, I guess. Sorry.

Magtok bites his lip.

Well...since we're facing an apocalypse and stuff, if there's anything I could do to clear up that anomosity, I'd appreciate you letting me know. The other you is going to be a huge pain, and...

There's a sort of haunted look in his eyes for a moment, a sign of simmering fear that everything might fall apart on top of him at any moment.

Well...I'm not sure if you heard, but...actually, I don't think I should bring that up. Anyways, can I buy you a round and then stay far away enough so that poisoning it or something is entirely impossible? I think I owe you at least that, even if you don't want to negotiate further.

[Reinholdt]

"Shepherd, right? Yeah, I've heard."

Reinholdt sighs.
"Honestly, I'm at the point of not caring. And I'm here for drinks anyways. Might as well poison them too. Go for it." Reinholdt waves his acceptance to Magtok's offer of a drink in a most deflated manner.

[Lord Magtok]

No, Shepherd...Shepherd I could wrap my mind around, if it was just that I could manage. I...I raised Cynthia myself, I wanted her to rise above the cloned blood she was made of, and to see her sneering at me like that, saying those things...

I...I don't think it ever really sunk in, that Shepherd was more than just a means to an end to you, that the shooting was any more than...But now here we go again, with the clone of him I made, and-

Magtok sighs, picking up his spilled drink off the floor and sipping from what little is left, before ordering more for the both of them.

I don't think I'll be able to do it, like you did with Shepherd. You, Happy, someone else has to be there when the time comes.

[Reinholdt]

"Cynthia? You..."
Reinholdt looks down.

"I'm sorry. I hope you don't have to go through that." No one deserves to have to kill their own child. Not even Magtok.

"I told Watchtower what I could, if it's of any help." He takes his drink and throws it back down his throat, swallowing quickly and largely ignoring the taste.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok blinks, rather happy for the distance between himself and Reinholdt at the moment, lest he show any further sign of weakness.

Thanks. Well anyways, as I said, Other-You is going to try to kill me, and Shepherd and Cynthia and maybe-Kaela are trying to make someone pregnant and make a new apoca-baby, or pull together some other means of coming back. Till then, they seem content to-

Magtok winces momentarily.

Oh, hold on. One of their Hell-minion things is attacking Lulz Bar, which, coincidentally, is exactly where I was, and melted my ice cream. If I space out a little mid-conversation, that's why.

[Reinholdt]

"Hmm? Yeah, ok, take your time." Reinholdt reaches for another glass, pouring himself another.

"Other me has lost his power base and allies and failed last time. He'll have to rebuild, starting with somewhere to live in order to plot since the Citadel was destroyed." Last he knew.

"You got some time before you'll even have to deal with him if you need it."

[FireFox]

Smaragdos is eavesdropping on Magtok and Reinholdt, but I'm sure if you asked he'd call it something different.

[Lord Magtok]

Magtok fails to notice Smaragdos, but I'm certain he'd be quite capable and willing to argue semantics with him were his surveillance efforts caught.

Well, true. But I've also got time until the apocalypse launches its big guns, and knowing my luck, they're going to hit at around the same time and screw everything up. Knowing other-you, it'll something underhanded, like pretending to launch a forward assault on the door when he's really burrowing in from below to blow up the cloning labs, with mind-controlled Exalted troops as back-up.

On the other hand, knowing the apocalypse, it'll probably murder someone close to me or to someone I know, and indirectly my fault in some manner, because I'll think I've finally got it all figured out and then it'll throw me an unexpected and unforseeable curveball and ruin everything I'd done to prepare. Probably ironically echo something I've said before before stabbing me in the heart and winking in a mildly suggestive manner.

[Reinholdt]

If Reinholdt notices the eavesdropping, he doesn't mention it or call it out. He does start on his third glass. Going through these rather quickly, isn't he? "Having usually been on the other side, I can't say about the apocalypse, but I can say with reasonable certainty that I don't think I have access to mind-control technology. Though other me probably would be looking into it while I'm looking around for people to join me. I would have to send out some invitations or something sometime. You may be able to head him off then. Unless you can find out which of Calublufiok's old haunts I'm hiding in." Stop mixing your pronouns you stupid cat!

Reinholdt glances around the taverna before smiling and waving at Smaragdos. Oh geeze. He's smiling. Tipsy already at least.

[The Bushranger]

And now, even as Mag, mage, and Apocakitteh have their conversation, a SGC Captain and a Flemish lieutenant walk into a bar.

Specifically, Captain Valeriya Vela Russkij, USAF and 2nd Lieutenant Marcie Stranberg, and they head for a corner table, Val looking around apprasingly; Marcie, with fascination, and a bit of trepidation.

((Pics:

Val:
http://public4.tektek.org/img/av/0901/d16/1026/777c745.png

Marcie:
http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/1007/d15/1534/292f441.png))

[Recaiden]

Seren and Plum wave their friends over to the other corner table from which they've been watching people and resting.

[Morty]

Anatolij the Cossack undeadtimes, waiting for Reinholdt and Magtok to finish talking. Now that Reinholdt is here, he wants to thank him.

[The Bushranger]

The Cossack gets an especially ":smalleek:" look from Marcie when noticed, before Val steers her temporally- and spatially-displaced companion torwards their friends. "Sorry we're late," she says to the Two of the Six as she takes a seat. "We got delayed watching a cocatrice-and-chocobo fight."

The chocobo won, of course.

[Recaiden]

"What's a chocobo?" It asks, looking at Anatolij and wondering why Marcie is worried.

[The Bushranger]

"A...giant mutant chicken," Val gives the simplest explanation. "They were fictional, on my world."

Marcie happens to notice the look. "My...people, fight people like his," she explains softly, clearly having been a quick learner with the language, perhaps.

...still can't read it though. So she looks at the menu perplexidely.

[Recaiden]

"Okay. That makes sense." Although they're really more ostrichy, I think.
Marcie gets a horrible glare as they put some simple numbers together. Simple things like Military+Fight+Nuclear Missile Silo.
Glaaaaaaaaaaare.

[The Bushranger]

The terrible result of tampering with genetics, producing chicken-ostrich hybrids? :smalltongue:

Val nods and considers her menu, not noticing the glare...

...Marcie does, though. And wilts before it, looking both confused, and a bit upset.
"Something...I said?" she manages, weakly.

[Morty]

Anatolij notices the woman look at him strangely, but he's never seen her. He shrugs, deciding she must have mistaken him for someone else.
For reference, Anatolij is a lanky man, with hair cut short except for the front of the head, where it's long and a short moustache. He's dressed in a loose greyish shirt and leather trousers. He's carrying a sabre, which is obviously much more valuable than the rest of his posessions.

[Reinholdt]

Anatolij the Cossack undeadtimes, waiting for Reinholdt and Magtok to finish talking. Now that Reinholdt is here, he wants to thank him.

That could take a couple of days. Or next post. Who knows?
Reinholdt orders a second bottle, having finished his first.

[Morty]

Anatolij approaches Reinholdt. Umm.. hi. Are you the guy I met in the brig in that floating city thing?

[Reinholdt]

*blink*
*blink*
"You made it out alive! Great!" :smallbiggrin:

"Did the others make it too?"

[Morty]

Yeah. We got down on the ground together and they ran back home. So, anyway, thank you, a lot. I'd never have gotten out of there alive without your help. The Cossack outstreches his hand for Reinholdt to shake.

[Reinholdt]

Reinholdt takes the hand and shakes it.
"Trust me, you don't need to thank me. So long as you're alright. And are willing to buy me another round." Reinholdt half-jokes.

[Recaiden]

[Corner Table]

"I just realized your job. And our world was almost destroyed by such weapons as you use."

[The Bushranger]

"Oh." Marcie looks down. "Apologise. Not use. Ah...bluff? Yes, bluff. Stop war," she explains.

Val looks up, but remains quiet, letting her new friend explain things herself for now. Both for the self-confidence and for the improvement of language skills.

[Recaiden]

Seren laughs. He wasn't alive, but he remembers hearing from his parents, who were in the least hit area, how bad things were. And knows they got off lightly. "Strategic weapons? Yeah, that's what everybody said, and then when Machai went ahead and used one rather than surrender, so did everyone else. You would have used them, if the chance had come."

[The Bushranger]

Marcie shakes her head, looking rather distressed. "No! Would not unless used first -"

Val puts a hand on her shoulder (deciding not to mention the Mark IX Gatebuster she had a hand in setting off once) to cut her off, and speaks up. "Perhaps, perhaps not, but perhaps this isn't suitable conversation for breakfast?" she states, giving Plum and Seren a 'look'.

[Recaiden]

"Perhaps not." They look down to their menu, but any trust they had in Marcie has been erased.

[The Bushranger]

And Marcie, realisng that, looks decidedly miserable.
"Not...not hungry," she says, pushing her chair back from the table, standing, and going to head outside.

Val's 'Look' intensifies a good bit...

[Recaiden]

Seren 'Look's back at Val, his expression asking a sarcastic, "What? Go on, judge me, say it."
"Please stay, Marcie." Just because they think she's a terrible, terrible person is no reason to be unfriendly.
But they are just too idealistic, still.

[Morty]

Reinholdt takes the hand and shakes it.
"Trust me, you don't need to thank me. So long as you're alright. And are willing to buy me another round." Reinholdt half-jokes.

Hey, sure. A round for this fella here. Anatolij gestures at the barkeep.

[Reinholdt]

"Thanksh a bunch." Reinholdt says, slurring his words a little as he takes the drink he just got and mixes it with the one he bought earlier.
I don't think he even thinks about how it tastes.

As is evident from his face after he swallows it.
"Ugh." :smallyuk:

"So what do you do around here?"

[Morty]

Anatolij shrugs. I try to stay out of trouble, mostly. I do some minor jobs in Inside from time to time. Everything's strange here.

[Reinholdt]

"If you think things are strange around here, you obviously never have been to a universe where people literally eat with their eyes." Reinholdt shudders a bit. That was a creepy place.

He tosses back another drink.

[Morty]

Anatolij's jaw drops. What? There is such a place?

[Reinholdt]

Reinholdt shakes his head and waggles his finger.

"Wass. There was such a place. It's gone now."

And another. Yummy.

[The Bushranger]

Seren 'Look's back at Val, his expression asking a sarcastic, "What? Go on, judge me, say it."
"Please stay, Marcie." Just because they think she's a terrible, terrible person is no reason to be unfriendly.
But they are just too idealistic, still.

Val, at the moment, wishes she were telepathic. So she settles for just shaking her head a little, with a slightly dissapointed expression, before looking back down at her menu.

Marcie pauses, and looks back. And touches a hand to her chest, indicating herself. "Hate me, yes?" she asks, making it sound more like a statement.

[Morty]

Reinholdt shakes his head and waggles his finger.

"Wass. There was such a place. It's gone now."

And another. Yummy.

What do you mean, was? The poor, simple Cossack is confused now.

[Reinholdt]

"That entire univershe is gone. Poof. Destroyed. Ka-blooey. Non-existent in the most literal of meanings now. Just a small void of nothing nothingness. I don't even remember how that one went down."

And Reinholdt drinks another!

[Recaiden]

They shake their heads. "No. Just your situation." Not everyone working for a villain is bad, after all.

[Morty]

Anatolij relaxes. Reinholdt obviously had one drink too many. Oh, I see. Well, it's been nice meeting you again but I have to run. I hope we meet again. The Cossack shakes Reinholdt's hand again, pays for his drinks and leaves.

[Reinholdt]

Yes, that's it. Relax in your soft bed and with your misconceptions Anatolij. Rest easy sweet cossack. But one day, as you're sipping your herbal tea and listening to classical music, a cat will come in... and KA-BLOOEY!

"A real pleashure. Take care of yourself. I don't want to hafta bust you out of more prisons." Reinholdt will shake his hand and turn back to his drink, glancing over to see if Magtok is still there or slipped out while no one was looking, but otherwise just looking at his drink and more than occasionally drinking it and ordering more.

[The Bushranger]

Marcie hesitates, then nods once and turns back to their table. "...thank you," she says, not meaning that, precisely, but not knowing the more appropriate words, so settling for that.

Meanwhile the waiter comes by, and Val orders a ham on rye.

[Recaiden]

"You are welcome."
Plum asks for water for everyone, and they take some of the food they had on the island out of Seren's backpack.

[The Bushranger]

"...why are you doing that?" Val asks, even as Marcie manages to get across to the waiter that she'll have what she's having. "This is a restaraunt, and it's my treat. Order whatever you like." She smiles, clearly having already pushed the nuclear unpleasantness to the back of her mind.

[Recaiden]

"Why wouldn't we? You don't need to buy us anything to eat. And correct us if we're converting from chares wrong, but aren't the prices here a bit incredibly high?" Smiles back to Val.

[The Bushranger]

Val smiles back, and nods. "It is a bit on the pricey side, and it's true I don't need to. But I want to, because you're my friends. And therefore, today's my treat," she explains.

Marcie still looks a bit nervous, but recovering, and seems to be able to follow most of the conversation.

[Recaiden]

"If you insist." says Seren, who, for the record, has always had brown eyes and dark hair and skin. Then they'll order a bowl of soup and a small pizza.
"Thank you, Val."

[The Bushranger]

And any statements to the contrary are scurilous lies and slander? :smalltongue:

The waiter nods and scurries off.

"You're quite welcome." Val smiles, with a bit of a distant look in her eyes. Perhaps remembering going out with her team in the past, in herr world? "So then. How are things back at the island?"

Marcie occupies herself trying to read the menu.

[Recaiden]

Yes. Or, one fell for his disguising himself.

"Things are going pretty well. Basic supplies still being brought in on that rowboat, but the top floor is mostly clean." Plum smiles and nods to her.
"What were you thinking on, there?"

[The Bushranger]

But what if he fell for his own disguise?

"That's good to hear. And...well, memories. Dinners out with my team," Val explains. "General O'Neill said that it helped bond teams together when they spent their down-time doing things like that."
Of course, Jack probably used smaller words. :smalltongue:
"Steak and beer trips, video games, that sort of thing. It's...well, nice to be able to do that with my friends here, too."

And BR should figure out who was on Val's SG-team for her background. :smalltongue:

[Recaiden]

He would forget to maintain it at some point, and it'd be revealed to him.

They wonder what a steak is. Presumably some sort of foodstuff. "I'm glad we're able to as well." Awkward ,because now Val'll be thinking about leaving.

Unnecessary that. Though there's little reason not to.

[The Bushranger]

Val, who isn't thinking of leaving at all, smiles. "Hopefully we'll be able to do this often, and maybe with all of you?" she asks.


True, and true. Because my brain won't let me not. :smalltongue:
...and BR has to head off for a while now. So, until later!

[Recaiden]

They nod. "Sure thing. Once we get the crystal replicator assembled we'll have a lot more time. But why do you need us all?"

((Recaiden is leaving too. See ya!))

[The Bushranger]

Val winces just a little at the mentioning of the term 'Replicator'. :smalltongue:
"I don't need you all. However, I'd want you all. Because all of you, both as Six and as yourselves, are my friends," Val explains.

[Recaiden]

"Are you okay there?"
It asks, noticing her wince.
"And this 'yourselves' you mention is an illusion in most cases." From outside their minds on this dimension, there is only the one person.

[The Bushranger]

E pluribus unum?

"Perhaps. However it is an illusion I like to maintain sometimes," Val admits, smiling at Plum, before turning her attention to Seren. "And yeah, I'm fine. It's just the term 'replicator' has...bad associations, sometimes."

Since she was aboard Odyssey when it went to the Ori galaxy, of course.

[Recaiden]

Yes.
"'Generator', then. Okay, just be prepared for it to be weird when it's shown false."
They chuckle softly.

And as one who doesn't know anything about the fictional universes your characters are from, I'll just assume they ate the entire galaxy.