Jinnto had finished his shift helping the Revolutionary Guards, traded off with Lafiel. As always when he talked with her he wished he could spend more time. Perhaps the feeling was mutual, but there was work to be done and noone was a better workaholic than an Abriel.
Going back towards his guest room (he had nothing better to do), he'd been spied by Hawke and persuaded to tag along. He had to admit to some curiosity. He knew bars as the places Samson and his engineering crew disappeared into on leave, but he'd never been inside one outside of the station before.
A person from the station. That nixes further adventures in being Sebastian. Anders tries not to let his disappointment show. It isn't this guy's fault.
"We've never met before, I don't think. I'm ..." He looks toward Hawke, sighs, looks back to Jinnto. "Anders."
Jinnto looked a little nervous as he took a seat. Had he done something to offend? Committed a faux pas?
"I'm still a citizen of the Abh Empire. And since natural born Abh are immune to the effects of alcohol, noone's thought to draw up any laws about it." He pointed out.
"Unless I'm imagining things, there's far more here to sample than the local liquor." Anders waves a hand around vaguely, indicating all the ... spectacle ... that is this crazy bar. "At the Hanged Man back home we didn't have dancing girls with nails through their tongues. Or musicians like, well, that." Some of the gritty musicians mentioned in the post are playing. They are not playing a lute, nor a mandolin, nor any other instrument Anders recognizes. "And hey, I met a girl who was immune to alcohol! In the Bucket, on the station. I gave her a glass of water. Think she was impressed!"
"Immune to alcohol? What a terrible fate," Hawke says, sipping from her own mug. The day started fun but it's worn on her somewhat, and she's trying to ignore her own unfortunately circular thoughts. Having other people around is helpful for that purpose, fortunately. Jinto is a new friend, but they seem to have a few things in common; she's been looking forward to spending more time talking with him. As for the other one who's just arrived..."It's Colonel-Commissar Gaunt, isn't it?" she asks, smiling. "Someone recommended I go to you for advice about how to use a gun properly."
Well hello there, attractive female who looks more than 15. Gaunt has NOTICED you, and removes his cap, but first...
"Oh I was only giving you a hard time, Jinnto. Enjoy yourself a bit." He thumps him on the back playfully.
"Yes, well, this isn't any worse than most of the bars my men have frequented in the past, and better than some, like the dives on Pyrites." In response to Anders.
Finally, he addresses Hawke. "Indeed, call me Ibram if you wish, mamzel." He grins. "I can teach how to use a lasgun or bolt weapon rather well, yes. Or most auto-weapons. Plasma weapons are a little outside my purview, I'm afraid."
Hawke grins back, genuinely. Hooray, safe topics of conversation that don't involve convoluted soap operaesque storylines involving her former friends, one of whom now hates her guts. Instead she gets to talk about weapons. Much better! "Please to meet you, Ibram; call me Hawke, please. I've tried a few different types of gun, but distance weapons are unfortunately not my skill. A friend tried to teach me once--" The same erstwhile Sebastian Anders has built this convoluted cover story around, come to that. "--and the results were, shall we say, not promising." Her smile turns a bit rueful. "I'd be happy to owe you a favor in exchange for some lessons in lasguns and bolts and how they work sometime, if you'd be willing." Ahh, bartering, she does like the bartering system that happens onboard the station. "For now, dare we ask about the Pyrites dives, whatever they were like? If they were trashier than this, I'm impressed
( ... )
Jinnto considers that. The Abh still use alcohol for ceremonial purposes. Yet how much of their society would be different if they had that release available to them? People like Admiral Spaurh would be able to sink themselves into a substance, rather than channeling her issues into reckless space battles.
"I can vouch for that. I hadn't fired a lasgun since basic training but after training with Commissar Gaunt, I can hit a target at forty yards." He looks a little embarrassed as he looks at the hard to decipher drinks menu, then to Anders. He didn't think that The Bucket was Lafiel's kind of place, but it wasn't impossible that she was taking the colliqual meaning of 'drink' too literally and thought that was the only place on the station one could obtain liquids. Or she was becoming more sociable. Hopefully the latter. "Hecto Commander Abriel. She's both my immediate C.O. and old friend." There's a bit of a look in his eyes when he talks about her but it takes a quick mind to notice it.
"Abriel, is it? I didn't catch her name what with all the trying to explain about alcohol and the trying to explain about magic, and then her explaining about battle tactics in the Void."
A quick mind? Whether Anders has one, well, that's debatable. He's certainly not an unintelligent man, what with all his study in the Tower, and he's certainly not slow-witted, but he can be amazingly dense. Let's say he has a good eye for infatuation, how's that? Infatuation is an interest and sometime hobby of his. Therefore he catches the faint wistfulness in Jinnto's eyes, in the way the young man says his old friend's name.
"Alcohol will affect you, though, won't it? You're not an" elf "'Abh', you look human enough to me. We won't be throwing money away if we order you the strong stuff." He leans over to read the drinks menu Jinnto is holding, and points to a couple of options that sound promising. Many of them are far more ... ingredient-ful ... than what you'd find anywhere Anders could afford to drink back home. More like a
( ... )
my knowledge of girly drinks is lacking as I usually can't afford themweeabhooDecember 18 2011, 11:01:15 UTC
"I am an Abh, actually, but i'm an...immigrant, not a natural born one like she is. So unless you're genetically enhanced in some way, i'm the same as you." He looks over the menu, squinting and trying to look at least a little knowledgeable. He ends up ordering a hard lemonade, which doesn't taste as bad as he expected. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine it's a teal nomm with lop.
"Thanks. This isn't bad. It certainly smells a lot better than the stuff the engineering crew would drink when they're off duty."
Take flamboyent adjective. Take random noun. Combine. Ta-dah, girly drink name!try_winging_itDecember 19 2011, 13:40:45 UTC
"I can imagine," Hawke says wryly. "I know the type. Strong enough to make paint peel off the walls, hmm?" She takes a sip of her drink, which contains something vaguely spicy and not overwhelmingly alcoholic. This place is stimulating enough without adding too much alcohol to it, given the music, to say nothing of the circus of pain over in the corner. "I prefer something that isn't going to wrap my guts in a knot and then attack my head afterwards, given a choice."
"Feth, I don't think anyone here is genehanced in any way." He drinks his own drink with a scowl, being something of a hard drink, it's something straight that is paint-peelingly strong.
"As for Pyrites, let's just say my second in command and my present second in command..." His eyes cloud over with pain for a moment, "Ended up getting in a massive gunfight with local gangsters along with their cronies. 3 Ghosts against 20 gangsters, and they slaughtered the lot of them. Came back to the regiment with the looted whiskey and we all got roaringly drunk too."
"Genehanced?" Hawke looks curious, trying to wrap her mind around this concept. Something like upgrading armor or weapons by adding one of Sandal's runes, she imagines, but presumably more permanent. And more difficult and dangerous. It's hard to tell if the idea is off-putting or intriguing. "How is that possible? I mean, what's the process?"
She notices that moment of pain, but suspects prying would not be welcome. Instead she raises her glass in a toast. "To winning against the odds, then, and celebrating afterwards."
Does genehanced mean anything like abomination? Not the opportune moment to draw comparisons. Anders only laughs. "Three against twenty? Can't not drink to that. To winning against the odds." He's ordered what Jinnto's having, minus any of the fun stuff. In other words ... Anders has a glass of lemonade, and intends to toast Gaunt's victory with it.
Going back towards his guest room (he had nothing better to do), he'd been spied by Hawke and persuaded to tag along. He had to admit to some curiosity. He knew bars as the places Samson and his engineering crew disappeared into on leave, but he'd never been inside one outside of the station before.
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"We've never met before, I don't think. I'm ..." He looks toward Hawke, sighs, looks back to Jinnto. "Anders."
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"Sampling the local Liquor, you two? I could have you up on charges."
He laughs a little, indicating he was joking, since he's got his own bottle in hand.
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"I'm still a citizen of the Abh Empire. And since natural born Abh are immune to the effects of alcohol, noone's thought to draw up any laws about it." He pointed out.
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"Oh I was only giving you a hard time, Jinnto. Enjoy yourself a bit." He thumps him on the back playfully.
"Yes, well, this isn't any worse than most of the bars my men have frequented in the past, and better than some, like the dives on Pyrites." In response to Anders.
Finally, he addresses Hawke. "Indeed, call me Ibram if you wish, mamzel." He grins. "I can teach how to use a lasgun or bolt weapon rather well, yes. Or most auto-weapons. Plasma weapons are a little outside my purview, I'm afraid."
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"I can vouch for that. I hadn't fired a lasgun since basic training but after training with Commissar Gaunt, I can hit a target at forty yards." He looks a little embarrassed as he looks at the hard to decipher drinks menu, then to Anders. He didn't think that The Bucket was Lafiel's kind of place, but it wasn't impossible that she was taking the colliqual meaning of 'drink' too literally and thought that was the only place on the station one could obtain liquids. Or she was becoming more sociable. Hopefully the latter. "Hecto Commander Abriel. She's both my immediate C.O. and old friend." There's a bit of a look in his eyes when he talks about her but it takes a quick mind to notice it.
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A quick mind? Whether Anders has one, well, that's debatable. He's certainly not an unintelligent man, what with all his study in the Tower, and he's certainly not slow-witted, but he can be amazingly dense. Let's say he has a good eye for infatuation, how's that? Infatuation is an interest and sometime hobby of his. Therefore he catches the faint wistfulness in Jinnto's eyes, in the way the young man says his old friend's name.
"Alcohol will affect you, though, won't it? You're not an" elf "'Abh', you look human enough to me. We won't be throwing money away if we order you the strong stuff." He leans over to read the drinks menu Jinnto is holding, and points to a couple of options that sound promising. Many of them are far more ... ingredient-ful ... than what you'd find anywhere Anders could afford to drink back home. More like a ( ... )
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"Thanks. This isn't bad. It certainly smells a lot better than the stuff the engineering crew would drink when they're off duty."
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"As for Pyrites, let's just say my second in command and my present second in command..." His eyes cloud over with pain for a moment, "Ended up getting in a massive gunfight with local gangsters along with their cronies. 3 Ghosts against 20 gangsters, and they slaughtered the lot of them. Came back to the regiment with the looted whiskey and we all got roaringly drunk too."
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She notices that moment of pain, but suspects prying would not be welcome. Instead she raises her glass in a toast. "To winning against the odds, then, and celebrating afterwards."
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