(no subject)
Who: Gaheris Rhade and Braxiatel (and anyone else that wants to run into drunken Rhade)
What: The adventures of a man trying to pretend that he didn't drink something terribly frightening.
When: Late on the second day
Where: A classy future-but-retro club where a couple of distinguished conmen can hang out
Warnings & Notes: Mostly silliness.
[Rhade doesn't have any reason to amass wealth, but gaining knowledge never hurts and the two man cons are interesting enough. Fortunately Rhade has a boyish face most people trust, and his robotic behavior means there's no way he could possibly mean anyone wrong.
As he's finishing his second drink of the evening, the server comes by and hands him a replacement. One that he assumes is exactly as he ordered. Within three sips of it, he's gingerly putting the beverage down on the nearest table and closely considering what the contents were.
Someone spiked his drink. Someone that assumed that his constitution were human, and were he human he'd be passing out in the floor right about then. As it is, now there are three of the nice lady that he's been talking to.]
I really must say something to my friend. [He holds up his finger in the "one second" gesture, and turns to walk over to Braxiatel, feigning casual motion over very deliberate movements. He tugs on his sleeve very lightly, leans in, points back at the offending drink, and whispers] Don't drink a... that.
What: The adventures of a man trying to pretend that he didn't drink something terribly frightening.
When: Late on the second day
Where: A classy future-but-retro club where a couple of distinguished conmen can hang out
Warnings & Notes: Mostly silliness.
[Rhade doesn't have any reason to amass wealth, but gaining knowledge never hurts and the two man cons are interesting enough. Fortunately Rhade has a boyish face most people trust, and his robotic behavior means there's no way he could possibly mean anyone wrong.
As he's finishing his second drink of the evening, the server comes by and hands him a replacement. One that he assumes is exactly as he ordered. Within three sips of it, he's gingerly putting the beverage down on the nearest table and closely considering what the contents were.
Someone spiked his drink. Someone that assumed that his constitution were human, and were he human he'd be passing out in the floor right about then. As it is, now there are three of the nice lady that he's been talking to.]
I really must say something to my friend. [He holds up his finger in the "one second" gesture, and turns to walk over to Braxiatel, feigning casual motion over very deliberate movements. He tugs on his sleeve very lightly, leans in, points back at the offending drink, and whispers] Don't drink a... that.