unheiring (
unheiring) wrote in
sticksandbones2024-04-02 02:09 pm
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I Never Will Play the Wild Rover No More
Who: Luca Aurelius and YOU
What: It's a bar log. For all your drinking needs. Make your own top-levels and have your own bar-related fun here.
When: End of March up to just before the event
Where: The Watchtower Bar
Warnings: Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.
It sure has been a month, hasn't it? And it's probably been made all the worse by the fact that Luca has been keeping the bar closed more often than not. Someone's had a lot on his mind, you see. Even when the bar has been open, Luca's presence has been missing, with only the spirit to tend to any, well... spirits you might have needed! There's no stew over the fire, or anything like that. It's great for drinking, but not much else.
But he can only wallow in misery for so long. And by that, we mean deal with the spirit occupying his walls, staring at him somberly every time he refuses to open the doors.
So, finally, toward the end of March, the doors to the bar open. One night at first. Then a second. By the third, it's the longest stretch they've stayed open since everything went to shit! Moreover, a pot of stew always seems to be brewing, a fresh deck of cards has been laid out on the table, and a new, makeshift dartboard has been prepared.
Well. If ever there's been a time to party, it's now. Grab your alcohol from your host, or do your own thing. It's about time the Grove got to relax.
What: It's a bar log. For all your drinking needs. Make your own top-levels and have your own bar-related fun here.
When: End of March up to just before the event
Where: The Watchtower Bar
Warnings: Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.
It sure has been a month, hasn't it? And it's probably been made all the worse by the fact that Luca has been keeping the bar closed more often than not. Someone's had a lot on his mind, you see. Even when the bar has been open, Luca's presence has been missing, with only the spirit to tend to any, well... spirits you might have needed! There's no stew over the fire, or anything like that. It's great for drinking, but not much else.
But he can only wallow in misery for so long. And by that, we mean deal with the spirit occupying his walls, staring at him somberly every time he refuses to open the doors.
So, finally, toward the end of March, the doors to the bar open. One night at first. Then a second. By the third, it's the longest stretch they've stayed open since everything went to shit! Moreover, a pot of stew always seems to be brewing, a fresh deck of cards has been laid out on the table, and a new, makeshift dartboard has been prepared.
Well. If ever there's been a time to party, it's now. Grab your alcohol from your host, or do your own thing. It's about time the Grove got to relax.
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If he catches you looking, he’ll just roll his eyes.]
It’s not nearly as bad it looks.
[If you’re a late comer, Luca has taken his place behind the counter by now. He’s more than happy to pull down anything you might ask for. You can even ask for recommendations. Though he might be a little more curmudgeonly about that. Just don’t ask him for advice, especially if you’re off your ass drunk.
Or do, I’m not your dad. Just don’t expect actual help.
(Or maybe do. He’s a bleeding heart.)
Of course, as any given night comes to an end, Luca might start to make eyes at you. His own posture is beginning to show the slightest signs of exhaustion, even though he tries to pretend they’re not there. He will approach eventually though, with a rather brusque clearing of the throat.]
It’s rather late, don’t you think?
behind the counter // sillies after they Feel Bad for a while, as is mandated in the lore-
yeets himself into a stool and spins around]
Lu. [the stool is spinning] Make me food.
[this is what you signed up for are you happy with yourself luca]
THE LORE HAS SPOKEN
Is the stew not good enough for you? Have you something to say of its flavor?
[His tone is... teasing? Almost?]
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[Stops the stool from spinning with his hooves. Elbows on the counter, chin in both hands. Hi.]
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I hope you were not expecting an apple pie. That takes several hours to properly craft.
[Nevertheless, he sighs and makes his way toward the storage room.]
You best come along. So I can prepare for your... sensibilities.
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[He doesn't expect anything, really. He's being silly for the purposes of being silly, as you do when you have slightly gotten over yourself and have realised that it's okay to live in the moment sometimes. So!
Zahliya hops up and follows after Luca, with the clipclop of his hooves on the floors.]
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behind the counter
May I ask after the food you are cooking?
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He plays the part of a busy and slightly surprised businessman as he's approached, though. The glass is set down, before he considers the question asked.]
Rabbit. Albeit one slightly infused with some sort of moss. I can assure you that I have cooked it before, however. There will be no ill effects on your health.
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[That perks him up, though the rabbits he's thinking off are quite a bit more... rice... based... than what's in the stew]
What do you charge.
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Truth be told, I don't expect I'll ever understand the conversion rate here. But it isn't as if I have to pay to restock. [A shrug.]
Take what you wish and pay what you will. A shell or so should suffice, two if you wish for a drink to go with it.
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[He will dig around in his pouch for some shells- he took to scrounging soon as Vanilla explained their purpose to him, and places two on the counter]
You have my thanks. I have... been lacking in meat since I arrived.
[he loves Vanilla, he really does. And respects his desire to not eat living things. But crumbs he kinda misses some hearty jelly meat]
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he hasn't actually seen anyone else use magic yet, here.]
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Can I help you?
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Actually, you can. You're the proprietor of this establishment?
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[Luca looks him up and down, before the corner of his lips ticks upward. It's a smirk that's none too kind.]
You look far too young to be in this establishment.
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Tonight is the night though, and he walks in. Not in his full armor at least, but instead his under armor leathers and shirt.
...huh. This looks more like an inn or tavern than an outpost. He blinks, steps back out to make sure he didn't' walk into the wrong building, then comes back in.]
Hmm...
[Poor man looks a bit lost]
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Nah, try again, Pops, you might get it in another round.
[ At least the voice is familiar? ]
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So, this is a tavern then... is that Beat?
[You are no longer dog! That's good(?)]
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[ He may be a few inches shorter now that he's no longer standing digitigrade but he's still fucking tall. And beefy. ]
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A place you can drink and buy a meal. Sometimes even a bed for the night.
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Either way, he'll sit himself at a table near the wall and just sort of... people-watch. Eavesdrop, really. Are you having a loud conversation? He's listening. Woefully at the bar, drunk as hell? Recorded in his memories forever, and probably going to be shared with Sesa later. Do you suck at darts? Passenger Will Remember That.
If he sees you people-watching him back, he'll politely offer a wave and a,]
Do you care to sit with me for a spell?
[Otherwise, you're probably one of the people he's watching. Do something embarrassing enough, and you may find him walking up to you just to comment,]
Quite the display. Are you a little too far into your cups?
[Feel free to tell him to shut the fuck up at any time.]
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You would look far more natural if you had a glass in hand. [His voice is... not quite flat and unamused, but certainly not Excited about Passenger's snooping.] Otherwise, you will find yourself approached by those that would rather not be spied upon.
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I suppose I would. [He'll take the glass, at least, with a gentle and somewhat dainty grip. Wouldn't want to break it, now.] Blending in has never been my forte, shall we say. I've never cared much for it.
["I just go here and things happen" energy fr.]
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In my travels, I've found that a bit more subtlety can go a long way. Or at least ensure I am not sleeping out in the cold for an evening.
[He pours some wine into Passenger's glass.]
Not that it would ever be an issue in this town. People are far too kindly for all of that, don't you think?
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Quite. Rarely in my travels have I met kinder, though I have heard of a few "bad eggs" in the crop at one point. I wonder if that kindness is merely so that we can all survive? What lies beneath the veneer?
[.............Passenger.]
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