[IC] So Yao walked into a bar...
Yao muse was bugging me to let him play too, so here is my peace offering.
Location: Tortuga, the nearest bar from the docks
Time: Sometime around midnight
'Event' for: Anyone interested in talking to my mysterious/devil may care!Yao
Event: Yao. In a bar.
Yao was once again sick of his surroundings and he had sailed in his small yet ornate ship to Tortuga with only a skeleton and very motley crew. The crew scattered after they were paid, but this was just as well for him. He didn't want to go back to Singapore right away anyway. It, like everywhere else, felt empty.
He ordered a strange, western drink and gulped it down as quickly as he could. After a moment, he got over the aftertaste that he was not particularly fond of and ordered another. Three beers later, he pulled out a very elaborate pipe--one that was quite unusual compared to the typical tobacco pipes often found in the Caribbean. Without pause or apology, he prepared the pipe and lit it, beginning to smoke his magical plant. Soon, his body began to feel deeply relaxed, and the aches and pains from a long, grueling voyage felt like leaves blown away in autumn.
He closed his eyes and leaned against a wall, occasionally opening them a slit to watch the chaos and the silence and the noise and the madness that occasionally surrounded him. He didn't really care for any of it. Another town, another bar, another life.
Location: Tortuga, the nearest bar from the docks
Time: Sometime around midnight
'Event' for: Anyone interested in talking to my mysterious/devil may care!Yao
Event: Yao. In a bar.
Yao was once again sick of his surroundings and he had sailed in his small yet ornate ship to Tortuga with only a skeleton and very motley crew. The crew scattered after they were paid, but this was just as well for him. He didn't want to go back to Singapore right away anyway. It, like everywhere else, felt empty.
He ordered a strange, western drink and gulped it down as quickly as he could. After a moment, he got over the aftertaste that he was not particularly fond of and ordered another. Three beers later, he pulled out a very elaborate pipe--one that was quite unusual compared to the typical tobacco pipes often found in the Caribbean. Without pause or apology, he prepared the pipe and lit it, beginning to smoke his magical plant. Soon, his body began to feel deeply relaxed, and the aches and pains from a long, grueling voyage felt like leaves blown away in autumn.
He closed his eyes and leaned against a wall, occasionally opening them a slit to watch the chaos and the silence and the noise and the madness that occasionally surrounded him. He didn't really care for any of it. Another town, another bar, another life.