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For strategizing, table talk, and all your other OOC needs.
Huxley sits at a one of the many long tables that make up the room sipping his ale while he waits for his meal to be delivered. He stifles a yawn, recovering from another late night plagued by nightmares of a faraway jungle. As he sits there he runs his fingers across the worn oaken table wondering, Will I measure up to those that have sat here before?” His thoughts are interrupted by Constable Kildare.
Cupping her hand in front of her mouth, Alice lights a small Nicodemus cigar. "Huh. Didn't quite expect to find another Yerasol veteran." She exales a small cloud of smoke. Her flawless uniform clashes with her weary, baggy eyes, the color of a sea in storm. She offers her cigarillos to Huxley. "One would think that the administration dumped us here to give us a cushy job. Hmph. Don't know about you, but that's not how I want it to go. Anyway, what's your story?"
Wordlessly Huxley takes the offered cigar, brings it to his lips and takes a long drag. While he smokes his brow crinkles as he considers her words carefully and wonders, What is she fishing for? Trying to deflect the question Huxley answers with a smile, ”My story…. My story is I’m hungry and tired.” Huxley strokes his chin and lifts his mug, ”Looks like you could use a drink too. Have a seat.”
Best way to find out what she wants is to keep her talking, Huxley counsels himself. His inner voice warns, <Careful watch your tongue.>
"A bit early, but I'm not one to turn down a drink." Especially not when I should. "Wait a second while I grab one." She marches towards the counter.
A minute and a half later she returns, balancing a glass of whiskey and a plate with three slices of pie on it. She sits in front of his companion, standing straight as if called to attention.
"Custard. Rhubarb. Hazelnut. How is one supposed to choose?" She half-smiles. "If you want a piece you're welcome. Anyway, I didn't introduce myself. Alice Kildare, formerly Navy Midmanship, now I guess I should call myself Constable."
Alice pauses a bit, wolfing down half a slice of pie.
"I remember you from a newspaper about the war, but I'm afraid I can't quite recall your name. Sorry."
She takes a sip of whiskey and lookes at Huxley.
It had been a rather long day and man was Ellie hungry. She grew impatient as she sat at the bar--which was obvious by her insistent need to lean halfway across the bar every ten seconds or so just to peer half a foot further into the kitchen than she could already see.
It was clear she hadn't even bothered to consider how she looked in public either. She was covered in soot. The marks where she'd attempted to wipe some of it off with a rag didn't look any better and even so, she had a virtually black handkerchief hanging out of her back pocket. The only part of her that wasn't marked by soot was a solid ring about an inch out from her eyes where she'd clearly been wearing the goggles now residing on her head.
"Hey barkeep! What's the hold up? I'm hungry"
Her obliviousness was obvious. Only one thing could hold her attention at a time and sometimes even that was a chore. Right now is certainly one of those time.
"Don't believe everything you read," Huxley cautions the new Constable. With an air of resignation he continues, "Most people around here call me Huxley." He ignores the pie and takes another gulp of ale then advises, "Its a heavy title Constable it will consume you if you let it."
In walked a young Eladrin wearing a travelers cloak over his leather armors. At his side he had a cadre of weapons. He looked around looking perplexed for a minute and then waved at the waitress as she emerged from the kitchen.
Louise, I'm sorry about last night. Constable Kaea made me do a bunch of studying. Apparently us Constables need to know about the city and stuff.
Louise gave the young elf an angry look and then went right back into the kitchen without saying a word.
The young Eladrin walked over to the bar and sat next to "Ellie". Huh... I think she's mad. Srelenon looked over at the soot covered human. Then took a second look. You seem to have some.... er... on your face... er.. never mind... I don't think we've met. Srelenon Moonfall at your service. Srelenon extended his hand to the soot covered human.
Not everyone likes to exchange war stories, Alice, be tactful. Vanquished the rhubarb, she turns her attention to hazelnut.
"Nice to meet you, Huxley. You say it's a heavy title, eh? Perfect. I could not bear to be stuck at a desk, wasting in uselessness. Any advice for a new hire?"
She coughs and takes a swig of whiskey. "I could guess that the first advice is that hazelnut pie is dry."
Ellie sits back on her stool pouting and crossing her arms.
"Hmph!"
Then she suddenly realized she was being addressed. All at once it seemed like she'd entirely forgotten what she was just doing as her face lit up at the sight of the new person.
"No, sir! I don't believe we have! My name is Isabelle Jackdaw but you can call me Ellie for short. Don't call me Jack though."
She reached her hand out for a handshake with a big grin on her face, clearly not noticing how dirty her hands still are.
"I'm also very hungry. The food here is so good though!"
Srelenon puts on his most charming smile and pretends to not notice the dirt that is on his hand as he takes it back from the pretty red head sitting next to him.
Isabelle Is such a pretty name. It would be a shame not to use it. If it's okay with you I think I'll call you Isabelle. So Isabelle what do you do to get so dirty?
"Oh umm... Thanks! I like my name too. You can call me that if you like."
Isabelle gave a short pause as if to think for just a moment before smiling right back at the young man.
"Oh, I just got finished working! Sometimes I forget how dirty that gets me. Sorry about that!"
Isabelle turned back forward and, once again, she leaned forward to get a better peak into the kitchen almost as if she'd forgotten she did so just a few moments ago.
"Nice to meet you, Huxley. You say it's a heavy title, eh? Perfect. I could not bear to be stuck at a desk, wasting in uselessness. Any advice for a new hire?"She coughs and takes a swig of whiskey. "I could guess that the first advice is that hazelnut pie is dry."
Why do I bother. The new one hardly want to hear the truth, Huxly asks himself. His inner voice adds, <The truth is like pie. People want to taste a little, but too much can make anyone sick.>
Huxley lets out a short laugh and replies, ”Yeah, rule number one. Don’t complain about the slow days.” He picks up a fork, slices off a small piece of the hazelnut pie and tastes it, She' right it is dry.
As Ellie leans forward to look into the kitchen Srelenon leans back to get a better look at her ... figure. She most likely will not notice but to anyone else in the room it would be blatantly obvious that he is "checking her out". He nods his head in apparent appreciation and tries to strike up the conversation again.
So Isabelle what is it that you... uh Isabelle.. The young Eladrin frowns by her being more focused in the non-present wait staff then him. Here let me go get Louise for you.
He gets up and in two quick bounds and disappears into the Kitchen.
Louise we need some service out here.
A loud crash, the spilling of water and what sounds like a fish being dropped on a table can be heard from the kitchen area. A moment later Srelenon reappears shaking bits of broken pottery and what appears to be some sort of vegetable soup out of his cloak while nursing a red mark on his face that looks reminiscent of a young ladies hand print. He returns to his seat... places his smile back on and addresses Ellie again. She says she'll be right out. So Isabelle, what did you say your profession is again...
With apparently little interest in outright conversation for the present, a dwarf enters the building, a musket taller than he is cradled with obvious care in his arm. The weapon is clearly well-cared for, a sheen of lubricant on the metal parts of it and the shine of lacquer on the wood.
He makes straight for the bar, heaving his shorter stature up into a seat, keeping the musket close at his side; after he is seated, he turns, sweeping his gaze over all the other occupants of the room.
"Oh! Thanks for letting them know. I'm really hungry."
She smiled at Srelenon as he asked her another question. It's clear that she didn't see him eyeing her. Well, either that or she thought absolutely nothing of it.
"In my downtime I help work on the subrail below Central. It's a lot of fun and the people who help me are nice. I also just signed up for the RHC. I'm really excited to be of some help!"
She paused for a moment looking pleased with herself before barely realizing that there is a such thing as social etiquette.
"Oh, uhh... My apologies. What do you do?"
The DHC!!! Hey that's where I work. I'm an assistant to one of their crack agents. Kaea, maybe you've heard of him. He's an eladrin like me and he's saved the city a bunch of times. Been teaching me everything he knows too. Says I'm about ready for field work even. Maybe we'll be assigned to the same unit. Wouldn't that be pretty sweet... You and me... working together... in the same unit... every day... you and me...
Srelenon gives the girl a smarmy smile and a roguish look only to realize that she's not even looking at him. Some where along the line he's lost her attention again.
Hey... hey... Isabelle... whatcha lookin at?
Alice gulps down the last of the hazelnut pie, washing it down with the rest of the whiskey. He probably hates me by now, why did I start talking about the war? She absent-mindedly brings a finger to the scar under her eye.
"Slow days, huh, I guess there are bound to be some." She looks around as more people enter the room, then attacks the custard pie.
"Other RHC Constables, are they? This place is so close to the Main Branch, I should ask if they have conventions. All the pastries you can eat, doesn't that sound good." WHY do I keep talking about pies? Get a grip, Alice, you're usually good with words!
The custard pie is soon destroyed by the relentless assault of the young woman.
"I'll stop bothering you now, but it was a pleasure. Hope we see each other at work." He'll probably be hoping he never sees me again.
She grabs plate, fork and glass and makes to leave towards the bar where the young eladrin and the dirty girl are seated.
Overhearing the conversation of the others, Azaghâl gives a grunt, slapping his hand on the top of the bar twice. "Oy! бармен! Barkeep! Azaghâl is needing an ale over here!" he says aloud, his deep, gruff voice heard easily over the other noise in the room.
Only a moment later, he is finally served, and he takes a long pull from his mug before lowering it with pleased exhale of air, wiping away from his beard stray drops of the fluid. "Aye, the lad is right. Is like old human saying: 'Don't look gift horse in mouth.' Action will be finding us soon enough." the dwarf says, entering the conversational milieu. He lifts his musket to lay it across his lap, tugging a fresh cloth from his belt and a bottle of yellowish liquid, which he squirts onto the cloth before he continues polishing the barrel of his musket.
"My food is coming!"
Ellie looked on in glee as a plate of almost nothing but meat got sat in front of her. Only once she had began stuffing herself did she realize someone was still speaking to her.
"O soppwee..."
She paused for a moment and swallowed what was in her mouth, closing one eye as she winced at the slight pain of mostly solid food going down.
"Oh. Sorry. I was looking in the kitchen to see if I could see what they were bringing out."
She picked up a drumstick and remarked before taking another bite.
"Yeah, we could totally be like... crime fighting partners!"
As Alice attacks her food Huxley tries to take her measure. He notices he calluses on her hand, That’s from training with a sword not a fork. <Dangerous,> his inner voice cautions.
Abruptly she announces,
"I'll stop bothering you now, but it was a pleasure. Hope we see each other at work." He'll probably be hoping he never sees me again.
She grabs plate, fork and glass and makes to leave towards the bar where the young eladrin and the dirty girl are seated.
Huxley raises his glass in salute to the retreating new constable, ”See ya around Al.” The new ones would rather be fed an easy lie than swallow a difficult truth. Especially the new ones. Best they understand that our excitement is usually someone else’s loss.
The dwarf's eyes widen slightly when he sees the girl wolf down the plate of food sat in front of her and he can't help but guffaw a laugh. "Ha! By my beard, girl! You eat like one me own people! It makes heart feel warm to know some humans come with dwarf-sized appetite!"
Srelenon let out a low steady sigh as he realized that he had no chance at getting her attention now. yeah well maybe we'll get to know each other better.
The young Eladrin looked around the room and really saw the dwarf for the first time.
Addressing Azaghâl I seem to have lost out to a mountain of food. eh? Hey haven't I seen you around the DHc a bit. You help maintain the armory right? Have you seen any field work yet?
"Aye, you have seen me around a bit and the armory is where I am posted. Suits me fine! Azaghâl is always happiest when he is tinkering with guns, especially muskets and rifles!" he answers, lightly patting the barrel of the musket he is carrying.
At the follow-up question, he huffs out a breath. "No, no field work yet. On one hand, is good thing, but on other, I did not sign up to sit in office waiting! But...as grandmother used to say, 'Будь осторожен с желаниями.' In Common tongue, meaning is 'Be careful what you are wishing for.'"
Approaching the counter, Alice puts down the plate and the glass, then straightens her uniform. Alright, let's try again, this time without bringing up painful memories.
"Hello there! I would bet you're all working in the RHC, aren't you? Alice Kildare, newly hired Constable. A pleasure to meet you all."
The dwarf looks like he knows his way around a gun, I may ask him for pointers later. The girl looks like some sort of engineer, at least considering the industrial filth that covers her; I wonder what's her specialization field. That eladrin... I still wonder how can they live in Risur, I thought they would all hate humans forever. He looks young, though. Maybe he grew up here.
Since the young girl is visibly lost in her meat platter, she hops on a stool, smiles at the two lads, leans against the counter and gives a closer look at the dwarf's musket.
"Oooh, she's a beauty, isn't she? I've seen my fair share of guns, but this is an artwork! Is it handmade?"
Her mouth was full when the dwarf addressed her. This time, however, she thought not to bother trying to speak. Instead, she grabbed her stein of ale and raised it as she gave him a nod.
She was noticing that people were starting to gather around now. Giving herself a moment to chew and swallow her food, she spoke rather jubilantly to everyone around her now.
"My name is Isabelle! My friends who work on the rail with me call me Ellie though. Sure seems like joining the RHC makes you popular around here!"
She took a big gulp of ale before smiling to everyone around her.
"Yes, yes, with the RHC. I am thinking there are many new hires, then! It makes one wonder what is going on that is causing need for so many new faces." the dwarf muses aloud.
As soon as Alice points out his musket, he grins broadly, white teeth showing between his beard and mustache. "Eh, is not wholly handmade, no; Az cannot yet afford such prize as that! She does have some special work done on her, though." he answers, then pauses a moment to give the girl a good look. "You are knowing your way around firearms, then? If so, is good! Is not many females interesting in the shooting arts in my experience! You are well-met!" he concludes, giving the girl a firm handshake.
"You are chipper one, are you not?" he asks matter-of-factly as Isabelle introduces herself. Sitting up straighter in his chair, he thumps his closed fist against his chest. "Well-met, Isabella. I am called Azaghâl of the Flintbreaker clan; most are just calling me Az."
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Jebediah stepped into the Bar room.
Time to take the measure of the agents here.
he thought to himself. His eyes drifted across the room, adjusting to the gloom and taking in details.
Veteran sitting alone, doesn't want to be bothered. Chair opposite pushed away from the table, as though someone was sitting there recently but left. Girl at the bar covered in soot, probably an Engineer. Another veteran, a dwarf with a personalised musket and an Eladrin. He looks disappointed, probably tried hitting on one of the females, judging by the slap mark on his face.
He makes his way over to the bar, and waits for the bar staff to appear. When she does, he sees the barely concealed anger and the scowling glance she makes at the Eladrin.
Ah, the source of his injury, I would surmise.
He smiles at the barmaid and asks politely,
"May I have a glass of port, please."
"Ah! It is good to meet you, Az! I hope you're enjoying yourself."
When Az mentioned her being chipper, she nodded in an exaggerated fashion and flashed a big smile at the dwarf, the white of her teeth contrasting strongly against her soot colored skin.
"Bad stuff is going to happen. You're going to meet bad people. Is it worth centering your life around that possibility? I say just live and get satisfaction helping others live!"
She paused for a moment to either gather her thoughts or check back over them to make sure they would make sense to anyone listening to her. Satisfied, she continued.
"Well, that's the way I like to think about it anyway. Keeps me happy and there's little else I can be certain about, no?"
"It is not bad outlook! I have not been to Drakr in long time; only thing I am still having from homeland is the accent! Ha! Is just as well, though...you ask Az, they all crazy! All talk of fate and destiny. Bah. Is bowl of bad борщ. Er...borscht. Is like stew. Anyway, Az would sooner put bullet between Fate's eyes than roll over for it like submissive puppy!"
Alice vigorously shakes the dwarf's hand. What did that dwarf gunner say, back in the war?
"Zdravstuite, Az. Sorry for my pronunciation, that's pretty much all I know how to say in Dwarven. I've had many chances to see guns during the war, there was this time we had a squad of fusiliers aboard and they were all parading their weapons like proud parents. One night one of these guys was polishing his musket but accidentally fired a shot. Panic ensued, I had never seen the captain so furious." She sniggers at her own story. He would have keelhauled him for causing such an alarm.
Wait. Why am I talking about the war again? Oh, at this rate I might just as well go to the eladrin and talk about that time we killed their goddess and most of the females.
She then waves at the beaming girl.
"Hello there, Isabelle! I'm Alice! I might be wrong but I'd say that you're a tinkerer, am I wrong?"
I must admit I was never one for guns. Not many of those in Elfevair. I prefer a weapon where ones physical abilities make a little difference.
As Alice tells her story Srelenon listens intently and laughs when she does. So you were in the Navy? Ever see any action? Nothing a strong girl like you couldn't handle I'm sure.. The question filled with youthful impetuousness. He gives her a little too over eager smile.
Alice blinks several times, trying to process what the eladrin just said. Strong girl? STRONG GIRL? The sheer... gall of this guy! Have I seen any action? I saw death and blood and he brings it up like some sort of pick-up line! Her hand flies to the switchblade dagger in her inner pocket, but stops just short of drawing it. Calm, Alice. this was not a duel challenge. He managed to offend me twice in the same breath, but he might just be a fool. A fool who's coming on to me while nursing a visible handprint on his face.
She smiles back, the kind of smiles you might see on a cat's face when the mouse is cornered. "Action? I guess you could say that the entire Fourth Yerasol War was some action, but let me think... Oh, one time we were ambushed, the ship was gutted like a fish, the commanding officers took a grapeshot that left them dead or worse, and I had to ram the Danoran while the ship was on fire. Then I got stranded on an island and had to come back on a raft, I guess that was some action. But of course, I'm such a strong girl that I handled it well." The sarcasm in her words is biting, but her smile never wavered. She draws calmly her switchblade and pretends to clean her nails, a gesture that people always seemed to consider intimidating. "By the way, I didn't catch your name."
Srelenon's smile never fades as he listens to her tale. It's clear that he hasn't picked up on her change of mood.
Srelenon, Srelenon Moonfall. Wow. I have to admire your strength in a time of adversity like that. I hope that if the day ever comes where I am put to the test in a manner like that ,I'll be able to rise to the challenge.
This all said with the youthful exuberance of someone who's never seen combat himself but heard the tales told by the troubadour's. For a moment he stares off as If imagining heroics and danger and slaying the dragon. Looks that Alice had most likely seen on many new recruits faces. Then he seems to come back to reality and give Alice a smile again.
What was your name again?
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Seeing the sudden flash of anger in the girl and the way her hand automatically goes for an inner pocket alarms Jebediah briefly,
Oh dear, I do hope there won't be a brawl. How tiresome. He thinks, then relaxes as he sees her calm down. He nods to himself.
Well, she can control herself. Well done miss. I just wish this tiresome lout of an Eladrin would shut up and stop upsetting her.
Alice's jaw drops. How can someone be so oblivious? I can't... HOW?
"Uh, Midshipman Alice Kildare. No, it's Lieutenant. Or, uh, maybe Constable now. Uhm." Get a grip! Change the subject!
Her eyes, scanning the surroundings for safety, stop on the new arrival at the bar. "Hello there, didn't see you coming in! Are you with the Constabulary too?" She pockets her knife, still befuddled but again in control of herself.
One is gruff, one does not understand sarcasm and one seems to be a cloudcuckoolander. What kind of madhouse did I get myself into? At least the dwarf is nice.
As Alice pointedly turned away from him and addressed the stranger Srelenon finally understood that he had made her mad.
The young Eladrin hung his head obviously feeling a bit dejected. Three strikes against him in a single day.
He looked at the dwarf next to him. and quietly addressed him ...I think I made her mad. What did I do wrong? You know there weren't women around in Elfavair. I never even met a girl till I came to Risur. I don't think I 'll ever understand women. They all just seem to be insane.
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We are all here to have fun and want to play the game with each other. But if people make posts that don't leave others with something to respond too then the story doesn't move forward. Before you hit "Submit Post" ask yourself... did I leave something in my post that others can interact with and that will move the story forward. This is especially true in this thread since we don't have a GM to spoon feed us plotline.
Examples of good Story hooks from this thread include, Alice's buying pie to share with Huxley, Isabelle staring off into the kitchen with expectance till she finally gets a huge pile of meat that she dives into, Srelenon getting slapped, Azaghal's description of a dwarf with a gun taller than he is, and Alice's Drawing of the knife. You can usually tell it was a good plot hook because other players reference it in their posts.
An easy way to accomplish this is to ask other players questions... it gives them something easy to respond too. But if you are asked a question you should ask one back so that the other player has something to respond too as well. Don't just make passive observations.
My biggest pet peeve on the boards right now are internal monologues with nothing else. Internal Monologues are useful tools. They help the player figure out there characters motivations. Allow other players to be aware of nonverbal cues that your character would be putting out, and on a meta-level let other players know how you hope the scene will continue. In Alice's Last post she used Interior Monologue paired with conversation and physical actions to very good effect. There's a ton of stuff in that post for other players to respond too.
But when someone posts an interior monologue with nothing else they're hurting themselves and the other players. Themselves because they've demoted their character from a part of the story to a passive observer, and other players because they've given them nothing to respond to. WE All want to play with you but it's hard too do if you cut yourself off from the rest of the group by not actually interacting.
I will now get off my soap box and continue roleplaying my character... for better or worse. Man I feel bad for the guy. Girl comes around his head goes to mush.
For his part, Az doesn't seem terribly flustered by the turn of events, one way or another...doesn't mean it wasn't interesting to observe behavior, though! And it probably wouldn't be any good if any actual violence were to ensue, that much was true...so, with that in mind, he simply returns to his original conversation with Alice.
"Ha! Is more Dwarven than is known by many humans, so Az give credit where credit is due!" is the initial reply; at hearing her story of some idiot discharging his weapon, his smile turns around to a scowl. "Bah. This person you speak of, he was ДУРАК. Fool. If a man cannot be bothered to follow simplest rules of safety, he is not fit to carry."
He pats the barrel of his musket, an action that seemed almost affectionate, though his expression is serious. "You say is like work of art, and you are right in saying this. But before is anything else, is weapon. Instrument of death. If Azaghâl is ever pointing it at anything else living, he has already made decision to pull trigger." he says with a firm nod, then pauses as this strange fellow addresses him quietly. He seems to think for a moment about how best to respond before actually doing so.
"Is not war that makes one great. War is fire and death. Is not for admiring. Also, no woman is liking man who tries too hard."
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Her eyes, scanning the surroundings for safety, stop on the new arrival at the bar. "Hello there, didn't see you coming in! Are you with the Constabulary too?" She pockets her knife, still befuddled but again in control of herself.
"Yes, Miss. Sorry, I mean Constable. Jebediah Goodfellow at your service. Guess I'm a constable too, now. I must say, you have shown remarkable restraint. It wouldn't do to start your service by brawling with your fellow constables, no matter the provocation."
Alice smiles. "Please, just call me Alice, nice to meet you." She shakes Jebediah's hand firmly, then she speaks in a quieter tone.
"I don't think he meant any disrespect, he just looks, how could I say, naive? Simple? He chose his words terribly, and I have... let's say that I can be too easily offended, and I'm trying to control myself." Her eyes dart to the right, like she is remembering something embarassing. Anger management problems, to say the least. Hadn't Andrew stopped me, I would have stabbed that smarmy Viscount of Whateverland.
"Anyway, you are a new hire like me, you must let me offer the next round!" And here I thought that the job would be boring... Judging from the company it won't be. "To new beginnings!"
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On a secondary note, Srelenon is acting precisely like I did when I was eighteen, and, well, seeing it from the other side is... enlightening. You are welcome to keep hitting on Alice, anyhow, maybe you'll even manage to defrost her. Won't be easy, though.
The young Eladrin finds himself warming upto the Dwarf for some reason he can't quite put his finger on. Srelenon looks at the barkeep and asks him to refill the dwarves mug and one of the same for himself. He thinks for a moment looking at the long row of different colored bottles behind the bar.
"War is fire and death... Is not for admiring..." But... I feel most alive when I'm fighting. I feel stronger, and more focused than at any other time. I know conflict for conflicts sake isn't a good thing. But isn't their value in being put to the test and making it out the other side. My father always said that the only way to prove your worth was to "Stand firm against the encroachment of our enemies and show them the strength of our resolve". Then again my father was responsible for the lives of Hundreds of vassals.
As the barkeep hands Srelenon a mug he takes a long pull on the liquid and coughs a little. You really drink this stuff?
The dwarf huffs out a breath at the response, shaking his head. "You speak of value in testing. What you say is true, but this is not contest. Is not sport. Is war. Is no fighting for strength or proving. In war, fighting is to live. To make enemy suffer more than they make you."
Taking an even longer pull from his own mug, he releases a satisfied sigh, setting the vessel back on the bar with a loud thump. Aah! Is good stuff this! Is man's drink! Will put hair on chest!" he says aloud, thumping his closed fist against his chest again.
Isabelle listened to the others talk amongst themselves as she finished up her food. When she was addressed by Alice, she nodded and took the time to chew and swallow her food this time before responding.
"Tinkerer? Well... I suppose you could say that. I love taking things apart, learning how they work, and putting them back together again. Especially if I can make them better!"
She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed before opening them again and continuing with a smile on her face.
"I just love seeing how things tick and seeing how I can help! I've also learned that figuring out how something works will clue you in on why they are around at all! I think that's why the RHC was okay taking someone in like me who's not so good at the fighting."
Isabelle raised her fists like she was pretending to box for a moment before shaking her head and lowering them again.
"I can do it with things and I'm a pretty good team player too I'd like to think! Plus I read a lot... Just the other day I read..."
Isabelle began to trail off for a brief while before pausing and seemingly returning to reality.
"I'm sorry. Did I answer your question?"
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Jebediah smiles in response to Alice's warm welcome.
"Well, mi...uh, Alice. Please call me Jeb, all my friends do." Leaning closer, he quietly says, "I think he's just young - for an Eladrin, that is." then quickly adds, "I would gladly let you buy me the next round, if you would permit me to get the one after!" He pauses while Ellie rambles then answers her;
"Well, miss, there is no shame in keeping up with the latest technology. I myself keep abreast of the latest innovations; they are coming to shape our world in unimaginable ways. If I may ask, do you perchance work on the subrail? I have been following the latest innovations in that field quite keenly, perhaps we could compare notes sometime?"
This Isabelle is adorable. She reminds me of Lisa when she was a bit younger, always asking how and why. "You did, you did! Well, don't worry, Ellie, I'll protect you if there's a fight, and I'll come for help when we need brains, alright?" She smiles like she used to smile at her younger sister, then waves at the serving girl and raises her voice. I'll take a gin-" No, wait. Jebediah is offering the next and I won't start service drinking myself under the table. Not again. "No, sorry, just half a pint of cider."
"It is sounding like you would have made good dwarf! Many are keenly interested in how machines work. Do not misunderstand, I am liking machines, too...just have no care for fixing them!" he responds.
He huffs out a breath, looking down at his weapon. "In truth, I have only recently figured out how to make this one work. The trigger, she is finicky. It will fire if handled just right. And musket balls must be loaded in particular way. I am knowing how to fix, but do not have money for it . I am saving, but not there yet. I keep her clean and polished, knowing she will one day see fighting again." he says in a lamenting tone, frowning as he looks down at the rifle.
Srelenon looks down at his drink and takes a deep breath... With a grimace on his face he raises the Ale and downs the drink in one go!!! He puts down the now empty mug with a grimace...
I feel like I need a knife and fork to drink that stuff... I need a real drink. Bar-keep do you have any more of that 470 around? One for me and each of my comrades in arms here.
The Man behind the bar pulls down an old bottle that's mostly empty and fills a shot glass for each of the members of the RHC with the golden-amber liquid. The young Eladrin gets a big smile on his face and picks up his glass looking at the other constables at the bar.
Nothing like a 30 year old single malt...Here's too the future... whatever it may bring... because the previous generations screwed up the past!
Srelenon downs the drink in a single gulp and shakes his head as he slams the shot glass on the counter. His eyes are watering as he coughs more than says: Smooth!!!
Despite herself, Alice finds herself holding a small glass of single malt as well as the cider. Then I guess it might be destiny.
"One of these days, Az, I'll ask you some advice, I think that I should get a pistol, just in case-"
Srelenon's toast interrupts her, and she watches the Eladrin gulp down his drink in one go, then try to hold in the tears as the liquor burns his throat. He really is young, he behaves like I did trying to impress my brother's friends. It is kind of cute, in some baby-like way.
She turns to him and smirks. "That's a sipping whisky, big guy, as old as I am, not some cheap gin to drown your sorrows in. And take it from an expert, you don't want to drink it on an empty stomach."
She punches him lightly on the shoulder and tastes the whisky. Tough and strong, gentle at the first taste but kicks like a mule later. Have I become like this liquor?
The door to the bar swings open smoothly as a young woman steps into the establishment. Lithe and somewhat petite in stature, she somehow seems to radiate being....more...perhaps the long coat. Pausing just inside, she looks about, grey eyes flitting about the room taking in each patron before moving on, yet to the most observant, the seem to also stop on....nothing from time to time, at one point settling on the space above a worn barstool for a full moment before she looks away with a sad sigh.
Moving across the room she selects a quiet table, removing her coat and settling it down over the back of one of the chairs, a strange chill, not that bizarre for evening but...not coinciding with the opening door, seeming to slowly spread across the room as she sits down.