Ryan spoke again, addressing Irving. "OK, few things for you. First off, I'm not sure if you saw what I looked like when I came in here, but in case you didn't, I wasn't in particularly good shape. They've already busted me, it's not like telling you's going to make much of a difference. Second, according to Mr. Cliché Evil Executive #372, I'm safe as long as I'm here, so even if the CIA comes trying to bust down the door, they won't be able to touch me. Third, assuming I don't get dumped back in my cell once I get out of here, first thing I'm doing is making a beeline for South Africa, getting a real job, and forgetting the last 23 years ever happened. If you've still got a problem with me venting, I'd love to hear about - wait, what was that about powers from Satan?
"I think you have a... a very strange definition of... safe," said Irving, sipping more beer. He was a genuine lightweight and he wasn't sure if he caught all of Ryan's rant. "And it's like... after doing shit for so long, real jobs? Real jobs are hard! You know, they're hard! It's like... you can't do it, you see shit everywhere and you can't do anything about it..."
The 19-year-old who looked a few years younger than he really was leaned on the bar, munching on a french fry.
"And y'hear me, never do what I did. I mean I did what I did because I had to... but... you get nothing back. Like nothin."
Avea showed off her staff, handing it to Xavier and allowing him to feel its weight — it was heavier than it looked — before taking it back. "Yeah, I've been training with it... oh, as long as I can remember. Just play-fighting with other kids at first. Got a few bumps and bruises, but hey, worth it." Toying with the staff slightly, experimenting with different ways of holding, she continued, "Serious training started at ten. I'm not going beat a soldier in a fair fight, except maybe a Kykzavi conscript who's out of bullets. But if you're fighting fair, as the old saying goes, you're doing something wrong. And I'm no fool with this thing, either."
She spun the staff, demonstrating no small measure of skill, before tossing a tomato in the air and attempting to strike it as it landed. She missed, but came close. Her second attempt was a similar failure, but the third try was successful, and she seemed rather proud of herself. Then she said, "so, you like swords, huh? Those are expensive, where I come from. You a noble, or are swords just more common where you come from? Oh, and... what is a chaënkal, exactly?"
It was hard to tell whether Sigmund was genuinely hurt, or merely overacting once again, when he said to Ryan, "what, me, cliché? Really? Oh, please, you insult me! I've never once fired an idealist just for failing to adhere to corporate policy!" Leaning in, he quietly whispered, "It's so much more fun to move them into important-sounding jobs where they can't do any harm. Keeps 'em from going whistle-blower on your ass."
Then, standing tall and returning to his normal volume, he continued, "and the window thing? OK, maybe once or twice... plus I let Alice do it once, just 'cause she seemed so eager... but that was theater. And..."
Suddenly he turned to Irv, and said, "just a fucking second. What was that you said about getting your powers from Satan?" He stepped back and said, "yeesh. One lot of that sort of mage is enough for me, thanks."
edited 22nd Sep '11 8:50:29 AM by KillerClowns
"Mostly just more common," said Xavier. "I'm still not completely great at it, but I try to avoid fights anyway. I, personally, see no shame in running away if you're outclassed.
"Now, chaënka is a sport where I come from. It translates roughly to 'novelty fencing', and a chaënkal is a novelty fencer. The basis of chaënka is swordfights in unusual circumstances, such as on a tightrope or on tops of trains. It also has a strong focus on style, like vaulting over your opponent, spinning a lot, or flips. Fencers are judged based on both their actual skill and their technique. The vast majority of the time, doing actual swordfights like this would be completely impractical, but hey," he shrugged, "it's a sport, right?
"Of course, a fencer needs a strong foundation in actual swordplay in order to do well, or else it'd just be two people flailing at each other randomly. There are a few master swordsmen who went on to be excellent at chaënka without having much style, because they could block most of the stuff their opponents threw at them."
Avea paid attention to Xavier, politely nodding. The whole sport of chaënka seemed rather silly to her, but she could appreciate how interesting a show it must be to watch. And, she supposed, weren't all sports silly if you thought about them too much? There was always room for silly things in the world, and if it involved absurd sword duels between chimeras, all the better.
And then, out of the blue, for no other reason than because she doubted she'd ever get a chance to ask such a question again, Avea innocently asked Xavier, "what's it like to fly?"
Xavier wasn't particularly surprised at the question; he had been asked it a few times before, and his answer was always similar. "Glorious and exhilarating," he said softly. His eyes grew distant. "The sweet smell of the air, the cool rush of wind over your wings, the clear night sky above the clouds, the mists hanging in the air... there's nothing quite like it. Not in all the world." He sighed contemplatively, rustling his wings.
"Have you ever been high on a mountain? Been awestruck at all the world below you?" he asked. "That's the closest analogue I can find for it. When I have the time, I like flying through valleys in the mountains, several yards above the trees. There's just something about the landscape whipping past, distant peaks rising above me, that makes me feel alive." He sighed again. "If I had lose either my magic or my ability to fly, I'd give up magic. Every time."
Saliha blinked, not exactly certain of why she had approached Sigmund. What exactly, if anything, had she hoped to accomplish? She sighed inwardly. Her emotions, getting the better of her again. Never mind that just now, she was standing next to the man and needed to say something. What should it be?
She thought it should be an insult, but she had no real reason to think ill of this person. She couldn’t explain it- he just seemed to exude this sense of malicious surety. Actually, not at all unlike the men who had been after her, she remembered. He didn’t look an awful lot like one of them though, finely dressed as he was. He must have just been of the same type then, Saliha concluded. Either way, he wasn’t someone she wanted to befriend.
“Do you have some sort of problem with me?”
Her fingers curled into two small fists, almost wishing that he did.
edited 22nd Sep '11 1:58:06 PM by Gault
yeyAvea simply nodded, and said, "that... that sounds simply amazing..." she had been atop mountains before, and gazed upon the sheer scale of the world around her, but to be able to truly soar from those mountains? She tried to wrap her mind around the concept, and the others Xavier had described. She tried to imagine the weight of wings upon her back, of how it would feel to unfurl them and catch the wind. It was so strange to think about.
Sigmund, meanwhile, examined the lizard creature, very clearly confused. He had barely even spoken to it, and now it seemed to be trying to challenge him. Did he know it? Didn't raptors usually have feathers? And they certainly didn't talk or wear clothes. Studying the thing, trying to recall if he'd ever encountered such a being before in his life, he said, "do I have a problem with you?" Looking at Saliha dubiously, he said, "well... I don't, and I can't think of any reason why I would. I mean, we've never even met before!"
edited 22nd Sep '11 2:20:21 PM by KillerClowns
Having overheard his previous conversation with the arms dealer, Saliha narrowed her eyes. Liar. “Don’t try that act. I know better. I’ve seen your type before, and even if I hadn’t been chased around by them for days, I overheard you chatting with the death merchant.” She cocked her head in Ryan’s direction. “You’re quite loud.” Unconsciously, she bore her teeth ever so slightly. Several tiny white points appeared at the edge of her mouth.
yeyWell, Sigmund thought, I've tried being reasonable. Now for the fun part.
Stepping in closer to loom over Saliha, and literally casting his shadow over her, he said, "listen, lizard. I don't care what you think of me. Because you know what? You don't matter. You don't like who I am and what I do?" He came still closer, and said, "get in line with the unwashed, pot-smoking hippies, the bleeding-heart lefty hypocrites, and the self-righteous bible thumpers."
With a confident, even arrogant smirk, Sigmund warned, "right now, all we can do is stare each other down. But if you dare threaten me with those pointy little teeth of yours, in my world, I will break you. And yes, yes I will get away with it, because who do you think the press, and the judges, are going to believe?" He pointed to himself and said, "me? The paragon of the American Dream?" And then he pointed at Saliha and said, "or an over-sized talking lizard with an attitude problem?"
edited 22nd Sep '11 2:54:02 PM by KillerClowns
Samuel sighed. Cosmic horrors kissing. Technically male ones? Whatever, that really didn't phase him much. Long experience had taught him that creatures of such concerns and behaviors were neither required nor necessarily able to make sense. Lafayette perhaps might. He didn't seem far gone. Nyarlathotep on the other hand...it was just as well violence wasn't permitted, because he seemed the type where "reasoned with" meant "demonstrating I can hurt you so you better listen".
He shrugged and turned away, checking out the rest of the room.
Nous restons ici.Saliha didn’t understand many of the references he had made, but she more than got his gist. She didn’t personally much care for being threatened either, and had received enough of them to instantly be able to tell when she was. Indeed, it would be difficult to mistake his body language even if you were an extraterrestrial.
Normally she would have run. It wouldn’t have been the first. She was good at running. But she was also tired of running. Hell if I’m going to back down in the face of this arrogant Human! she thought, and with Xavier only a few seats away, she decided she had had enough of being threatened.
She wasn’t going to fight him- that was a given. Saliha couldn’t fight. Not really. She had little experience with any sort of weapon besides a light quarterstaff, and she wasn’t very good with that either. Like most Kasuar, her strength didn’t lie in her arms- they lay in her legs. Powerful bands of muscle encircled her shapely legs at the thighs and calves. The best she could hope to do was catch him by surprise- though if she did, she could probably neuter this bastard with a single good wallop right between the legs. She decided against risking it though- this man looked like he could simply fall on her and crush every bone in her supple little body. That didn't mean she had to take it though.
Her toothy scowl deepened immensely. Drawing herself up so she was standing fully upright, her digitigrade legs fully extended and balancing on the tips of her toes. She glared up at Sigmund. As much taller as it made her, she was still a full head below even height with him, so she compensated or this by sticking her snout in his face and hissing the words directly against his mouth.
Her voice held unmistakable venom. “But this isn’t your world, is it? I’ve learned enough about this place to know for sure that you hold as much influence here as I do and because of that, you can’t touch me. And even if you could…” her voice turned deceptively quiet, “Look behind you. There’s an eight foot tall silver dragon sitting at Table Three who can cast magic and breathe fire- and he, unlike you, is a good person!”
Perhaps she was exorcizing the resentment and hatred she felt towards the men that had been hunting her, or perhaps she just disliked Sigmund that much, but she seemed to take the extra effort to ensure that as much of her angry, bitter spittle hit him in the face as she berated him.
edited 22nd Sep '11 3:40:46 PM by Gault
yeySigmund nonchalantly wiped his face off with a silk handkerchief, then replied to Saliha with a soft chuckle that soon turned into an outright laugh. Finally, he said, "you have me at one thing, lizard: there's not much any of us can do to each other in this place, and I know you're not stupid enough to trifle with me on my terms. Right?" It was practically a challenge. "So, here's a wonderful little idea..." he took a sip of his martini and said, "how about we stay out of each other's way. You can do... whatever it is talking lizards do. Eat bugs and rats, or steal eggs, or whatever. And I will try and enjoy my steak and a fine martini... without you bothering me."
Dismissively waving Saliha away, Sigmund sat back at the bar and resumed eating his t-rex steak. He sincerely hoped the damn thing didn't end up attracting a crowd. The last thing he needed was more brain-dead idealists trying to fight The Man, and latching onto him as the nearest equivalent to that absurd straw man.
edited 22nd Sep '11 3:41:53 PM by KillerClowns
Ryan had overheard Sigmund's conversation with the lizard. Without a word, he grabbed his beer, got up, and walked over to Salitha's table. "Mind if I join you? That asshole's starting to remind me of the guy who just spent the last three weeks using me as a pincushion." Ryan felt a slight itch in the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and down his right cheek at the mention of his least favorite person. "Also, I'm worried that if I stay near him too long I might go deaf.
edited 22nd Sep '11 9:22:35 PM by KyleJacobs
Avea nodded at Ryan and nervously said, "hi." She hadn't been paying attention to his conversation with Sigmund, but got the impression he was a very dangerous man. Still, giving him a polite nod, she said, "so... I'm Avea, the silver 'chimera' is Xavier, the guy with the scars is Wesley, the fellow in the uniform is Alexander, the feathery raptor is Lok'Wa, and the lizard-woman is Saliha." Then, putting the question delicately, she asked, "so... Ryan, was it?"
edited 23rd Sep '11 1:43:46 PM by KillerClowns
I don't know why I'm doing this.
Environmental simulation completed.
It wasn't really that enjoyable before.
Qrlil opened both eyelids at once this time - the Cantina certainly was not bright enough that she needed to keep the inner shut. She studied the setting, which did not appear to have changed much since her previous experience. The decor was still unnerving; the patrons were still a curious mixture of the apparently mundane and the mythical. She took in the scents: while none seemed identical (save for the staff), there were a few similar to what she remembered.
She stepped out of the doorway and considered what to do next. The entire idea of revisiting the setting was a sudden and unplanned oddity, not something she had previously considered.
Her first obligation would be to render the payment she had not delivered last time. She headed for the central bar.
Saliha huffed in indignation, neck arched and eyes glowering down at Sigmund. She wouldn’t let him just sit back down, as if to dismiss her- as if he had won. But what could she do? She knew that violence was not permitted here- and while their little exchange had convinced her beyond doubt that this man was more than deserving of it, she saw no way to cross the staff’s rules and escape their wrath.
So… that meant she’d have to get creative. Her eyes narrowed. Oh, he wanted to be left alone, did he? He wanted to not attract attention?
Growling, Saliha all of a sudden grabbed Sigmund’s well-groomed head, pulled it close- And kissed him. More than kissed him. She sucked the breath out of him. Her long, agile tongue in full use.
Letting go, she wiped her mouth off with a sleeve and muttered something very angry under her breath before turning and stomping off back to her table. She rejoined Xavier, Wesley and the rest, clearly in a foul mood.
Grumbling, she murmured “… see how he likes that. Bastard.”
yeySigmund gagged, coughed, and sputtered. What the fuck was that, he wondered, his demeanor finally displaying some measure of absolute shock. "One shot, cheap Vodka!" Sigmund demanded, and when it arrived, he grabbed the shot, swished it around in his mouth, then ran into the bathroom to spit the vile de facto mouthwash out.
When he finally returned, he said to Qrlil, who'd been nearby, "for the record: I have no idea what that was. I mean, this place is weird, but that's a new record. Just a minute ago that thing was treating me like I was the devil himself." Then, his demeanor returning, he said, "well... life goes on. So, what's your story?" He showed no evidence of being perturbed by her odd appearance.
Avea giggled a bit and, with a subtle smile, said to Saliha, "well, that's one way to deal with people like that. A bit... unconventional. But if you were trying to wipe that smug grin off his face, looks like you did it."
Also, nrjxll: describe Qrlil a bit for the new blood.
edited 23rd Sep '11 6:46:18 PM by KillerClowns
Saliha’s manner lightened considerably at Avea’s prompting, and she began to smile along with her. “Yeah- thanks. Physical violence isn’t allowed in here so… I just went for the next best thing.” She wasn’t entirely sure if Avea got the full implications of what she had done, and why it had been such a thing to do. Sigmund also almost certainly didn’t know, but she wished he did. The knowledge would have only made his reaction far worse. Under the circumstances, Saliha felt a slight touch of pride at having come up with that on the spot. Winking at Avea, she let out a brief laugh and ordered a drink.
No need to tell her. She’d let her figure it out.
Turning to Xavier after gulping down a few deciliters of beer, she teased, "And where were you during all that?"
edited 23rd Sep '11 7:02:13 PM by Gault
yey"Busy talking with Avea," said Xavier, "and rather conveniently not noticing you. We got into a rather interesting discussion about magic. See, in her world, mages are... not nice people, so she was a bit apprehensive around me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a bit complicated."
He leaned in close. "Tip," he whispered, "try not to do that in your own world, especially after doing what we did. Although from what I heard, he was a bit of an arrogant dick, most likely deserved it, and you won't be meeting again, so I don't care. But if you do it to someone who you could meet again, it'll probably go badly for you.
"Oh, and that reminds me..." He held up the pendant Wesley had given him. "This is for you. I thought you might want something more to remember me with than just memories, no matter how good they may be."
Punching him playfully on the shoulder, Saliha jokingly chided, “Aww, I don’t believe a word of that. Don’t lie to me! Who wouldn’t like you? And- yeah, I know what I did-“ she dipped her head again, slightly embarrassed. ““Y- you saw that huh? I thought you said you weren’t paying any attention. You weren’t bothered by that at all were you? I mean, it’s not like I meant it or anything I don’t – I don’t even like him!” Lowering her voice, she moved up to Xavier and whispered, “By the way, that- that’s kind of why I did it. Because of what we did. I know he probably doesn’t know, but I just thought it’d make it worse. Sorry if you mind… And- just because I’m curious, if he had attacked me would you have-” No, stupid question. Of course he would have.
Picking the pendant up by its string, she let it hang before her and studied it curiously.
yeyXavier chuckled. "No, I know why you did it, and I don't care. It's more of what he'll think than anything, and, since you won't be seeing him after today, it doesn't matter."
He glanced over at the man; the guy was big for a human, but about his size. "If he had attacked you, the bartenders would've stopped him. But if they weren't able to stop him, I would've." He looked at her. "I mean, it's not like I'm helpless. If I wanted to, I could probably fracture his bones inside his body." He realized what he had said and shuddered. "But I wouldn't, because that'd be horrible. Maybe just a bit of a magical backhand. A mild shock or tiny fireball or something."
Qrlil had watched the incident in disgust. If the programming was indeed based off of human fictional concepts...
Humans... are... sick.
It was one thing to know in the abstract about certain human(oid) ideas, quite another to come into actual contact with them. She briefly tracked the female in question, and observed that she was seated next to a familiar winged reptilian. She opened her mouth; it was not Vincent Sunyo, but it was undoubtedly of the same "species". That would be something to follow up on in a moment.
She turned back to the human male, whose question had been interestingly worded.
"I am Qrlil, currently in fifth-level training for an ambassadorial position. I am pleased to meet you. I would also be pleased to answer your questions, but I first must pay the proprietor from my previous visit".
She inclined her head in a bow of polite greeting and interest, then turned back to the bar.
Is Cathy at the bar right now?
You can assume simple things about the bar's hosts, like delivering drink and accepting payment.
As Cathy took Qrlil's money, Sigmund said, "huh, an ambassador in training. For us humans? That'd explain why you're in a bar where our kind is most common."
It... she? Qrlil seemed female, at any rate. But she was very definitely an odd being — kind of like the grays of paranoid conspiracy. Sigmund was still getting used to seeing non-humans, but he was a very good bluffer, and betrayed nothing but mild interest. Still, worth checking. Casually, he added "I'm guessing your kind do a lot of interstellar travel, since you're not gaping like a buffoon at, y'know," he waved his arm around, "everything here! So, silly question: Earth got anything on it that sells for good money?" He had his priorities... within reason. If she wanted to snack on his fellow humans, there'd be problems, but a tip suggesting he should, say, corner the international bovine market would be welcome.
edited 23rd Sep '11 8:40:19 PM by KillerClowns

Xavier had expected that, and took a few moments before picking another topic out of his head. "Back to your staff. How early did you start training with it? You mentioned that everyone knows how to use it, so they probably start learning early on, right? How good are you with it?
"I prefer not to fight, but when I have to and can't use magic, I prefer a sword, myself." He chuckled. "That's partially because I can't use anything else, but whatever. I learned it a long time ago, back when I was forty. Heh. Spent a while as a chaënkal before retiring from that."
Night.
edited 21st Sep '11 9:38:44 PM by TeraChimera