An Ale Advised Plan

Log Info

• Title: An Ale Advised Plan
• Emitter: Schara
• Characters: Aelwyn, Schara, Slixvah
• Place: Ox-Strength Tavern
• Time: October 19th, 2022
• Summary: Schara is going out to try drinking, and decides that the cheapest option is the best. This leads to the artificer feeling out of place, and more than a bit nervous in a tavern surrounded by the rougher crowd that frequented the ox-strength. They do at least find one friendly enough face, Aelwyn, an incredibly large sith-makar by his own statements, as the artificer had not met any before. After a bit of confusion and talk of sith-makar and dragons, they are joined by one of Aelwyn's acquaintances, and one of Schara's though Slixvah is not recognized immediately by the artificer, as they are disguised as a human. The group talks for some time, before Slixvah suggests they leave for a tavern less likely to erupt into a brawl at any moment.

Ox-strength Tavern, early evening.

One thing was for certain, or at least felt like it was certain, Schara needed to get out more. And after a long period of deliberation, they determine based upon conversations at the artifice hall and with what appeared to be acquaintances out on the streets, going to taverns for a drink at the end of the day was commonplace.

Only problem was, alcohol was expensive, Schara new this well from the amounts she needed to purchase for her work and experiments. So after cross referencing what information she had, they determined that the Ox-strength tavern was one of the cheapest, legal option for drinking in the city.

What looks like a large, brass construct sits still at one of the tables, helmet occasionally flicking to one of the many groups that seemed almost ready to boil over into a fight at any moment. They had a mug of ale in front of them with a long metal straw sticking out of the top, and they couldn't look more out of place if they tried.

The door opens, and a particularly dusty sith-makar enters the tavern. The well cared ruddy scales show through the layer of dust - hand prints, scuffs and other sorts - but it was obvious he had been literally powdered by something. With a respectful bow, he approaches the bar. "The usual, Keep." He greets and slides coins over the counter. Receiving his drink of choice - a foamy mug of dubious contents - he glances around.

It was not hard not to spot the brass construct. Tilting his head, he walks over the table, glaive over his shoulder and a drink in other hand. "This one thinks there are cheaper places for oil, Brass." The draconian points out, and with a slow rumble moves to settle up in front of Schara. "Well crafted." He nods his head upwards.

The metal construct tilts their head to the door.

"Well aint that a giant lizard person." They say to themselves loud enough to be overheard easily despite the low reverb from the helmet. Well, now they were coming this way now, and given the clientele of the tavern, their attention is immediately on them.

"Pardon me sir er, ma'am, not sure, I didn't mean any disrespect. Just never seen such a big, crap, that's just making it worse. Sorry." They blunder. "Thank you though? I don't need any oil though, I've got plenty of that."

Aelwyn tilts his head curiously. A giant? Yes, he will take that and bask in it. "Brass has not seen a sith-makari before?" The draconian asks and promptly moves to take a sip from his drink - liquid spilling from around the sides of his mouth. A disturbingly toothy grin appears on his face. "This one is one of the largest, yes." Or shortest.

Another pause, and a tilt of his head. "And obviously a male." He gives a bit of a shake to his horns, sending those fancy ribbons twirling.

"Is Brass freshly crafted? He seems as if they are lost." A brief pause. "She." Another pause, then Aelwyn tilts his head and quietly asks, "... they?"

"No, I haven't seen a, sith-makari before?" The seemingly golem replies. "Huh, interesting. You want a straw? It looks hard for you to drink that."

"Obvious to you maybe, not to me, and I don't want to offend anyone more than I already may have. That's good to meet a sith-makari, though." They muse. "Yeah, I just finished this armor recently, that easy to tell, huh?" They ask. "Oh! And my name is Schara, nice to meet you, mister...?"

Aelwyn tilted his head - the city seemed to have plenty of his kind, so he was surprised at that. Still, he grins widely. "Aelwyn, a Dragoon." He bows his head. The comment about the straw makes him pause for a moment, then he shakes his head. "Drinking is a challenge, Brass."

Looking at the brass golem(?), the ruddy sith-makar looks up and down. Finally, he balances his glaive against the table carefully - before he half leans, half climbs over the table to peer at the helmet. "Brass made themselves?"

That seemed to get more of their attention, and the light within the mouthpiece of the helmet flickered a few times. "Dragon? Sith-makari are dragon people? Aint that something, surprised I never read about you in any of those draconic tomes I was reading." They admit, before they stop, flip the mouth of their helmet to one side to stick the straw through it, and take a long drink before closing the helmet back up. "No kidding, it's so damned bitter I don't know why people would drink the stuff. Probably best served as an alchemical solvent." They half cough. "Made myself? I wouldn't call myself self made, no. But I made all this armor myself, so this counts for something, doesn't it?"

Nope, there must be someone inside, Aelwyn concludes. He cannot resist giving the side of the helmet a brief tap with his fist though. "Hmmh." He lets out, before he leans back and settles on his chair. "Are they only their armor?" He finally asks out.

The commentary on the dragon people has the draconian grinning widely. "This one feels they are, yes. But no, this one is a Dragoon. Not a dragon." Another half-successful drink from his mug. "Is Brass interested in dragons?"

Either there was a person in there, or the headpiece was able to detect that it was being tapped, and Schara ducks away from the fist. "Only my armor? No, it's just armor, well not just armor since it's artifice powered armor, but, uh, yeah, no it's only something I'm wearing." They admit.

"Oh, so you aren't a dragon, you're a sith-makari and a dragoon, whatever that is. What is a dragoon? And why would you waste alcohol drinking without a straw? Drinks are expensive." They ask. "Dragons have interesting books. They live long and have extensive knowledge of history and world events. It's worth learning their language just to keep up with what they know and have shared, after all."

Slixvah has arrived.

One of the patrons amongst the rough crowd is that of a human woman. Half her head is shaved down to the scalp, the other half a long, dyed pink. Multiple piercings line her ears and nose as sky blue eyes scan the place. Clad in equally rough and punkish attire of the patrons, she slides on by the table the two are at.

For those that know her: It's Trixie.

"Dragon tales, dragon tales, I hear we talkin' 'bout dragon tales?" she inquires, a lopsided grin sported on her expressive face.

GAME: Slixvah rolls disguise+10: (1)+7+10: 18 (EPIC FAIL)

Aelwyn resisted the large urge to tap again. Tail thwips against the floor instead. Nope, he was going to tap that thing again soon. "Waste?" The draconian asks, then looks down at his dusty, stained scales. "A waste is a life spent worrying about coin." The draconian grins with a wide toothy grin on his face. Case in point, he takes in another sip of his mug, though far more successfully this time.

The question about dragons and Dragoons makes him perk up slightly, and he was about to answer - before Trixie appears. There's a brief tilt of his head, before there is a faint rumble in his chest. His tail casually swipes at the newcomer's feet under the table. "Pink," He bows politely, "This one's Brass friend is an expert on dragons."

"Well yes, waste, it takes a lot of grain or fruits and the like to make a small amount of beer or alcohol." The bronze figure shrugs. "I guess out of all the options a mug of beer or ale is reasonable enough to be frivolous with."

The bronze figure turns their attention to the punk-ish figure, and they pull their mug closer to themself. "Well, yes, I was talking about dragon literature, but I didn't mean any offense by doing such. I would apologize if I interrupted your night with my own conversations."

Trixie looks down at the wily tail, her tutting and reaching out to flick a finger against the side of the Dragoon's horn. "What up," she tilts her chin up in the same breath. She glances over the brass clad figure. "Same could be said with a lot of stuff. Takes a lot of copper and zinc ta make brass. Takes a lot of tree ta make paper."

She grins more, leaning on the table with both elbows. Ignoring the apology. "What kind of literature we talkin' 'bout? I've read tons. Flutter over here got a bit of red in him! Though, ya prolly know that. Pop quiz- if you were a dragon, what kind would ya be!"

A glance to Aelwyn. "... I already know ya answer," she sticks her tongue out at him.

Aelwyn's head turns at the flick by one of his horns, and he gives another rumble towards Trixie. "Those piercings." His mouth open and closes in quiet, but firm clicks. Chonk chonk. "Fit her quite well." His tongue flicks off the motion, before he turns towards Schara. "How can one interrupt the night? Brass is welcome." His head tilts again though, trying to peer into the depths of that helmet. "... are we interrupting Brass' conversation?"

At the sudden popquiz time and being summarily excluded, he lets out a rough snort and stretches his arm up and behind his head. "Hmmh, is it not rude to exclude from the game before it even started, Pink?"

"Yes, which is why you don't waste material." Shechara sighs. They stop to flip the mouth of the helmet open again so they can sip on the drink for a moment, think about what was asked, and flip the mouthpiece closed again. "I would hope they fit them well, as it is not easy to undo bodily modifications like that. So it is good that they fit well the first time."

"What, dragon would I be, though? Do not exclude him, it is worth asking. See if his views of self match up with what he desires to be. As for me, I do not know. Perhaps brass or bronze? I am already covered in the metal as it is."

Trixie winks at Aelwyn. "Thanks! I think they look cute! If oooonly I could actually have them, ya kno'?" she laughs before snickering. "I didn't exclude you, I just know ya well enough ta know what you'd say."

She stares at Schara. Then breaks into a boisterous laughter. "Oh bless your metal heart, hon," she says after catching her breath, her wiping a tear off from her eye.

The pink haired woman shakes her head, waving the answer away. "No no, personality question! I'd say I'm brass, I'm a wily, talkative sort!"

Aelwyn nods his head at Schara's answers, "That is a good answer." He agrees, then takes a sip of his own drink and attempts to wipe away some of the spillover. It was not doing great with the dust though, and he lets out an annoyed growl.

"Hmmh, pierce a few on a ribbon, perhaps?" The draconian suggests with a flick of his tail. "This one is not sure of wily though. There is too much color in her words." Eyes sliding back towards Schara, he tilts his head. "Brass is an artificer? Crafting a dragon?"

"You are not able to have them? Are they just clipped on due to some health concern or something?" Schara asks, tilting their head to one side to further regard Trixie. "If you need help with something like that I could look into it further, I know that making sure metal is safe for medical use is tricky."

"Well, it is good you know what he would say, given he did not say. Yes, I am an artificer, but I am not capable of crafting a dragon or anything like that. My heart is not made of metal, either."

Trixie taps the side of her head in thought. "Hmm... on a ribbon. Not... a bad idea. I'll mull that one over." She grins to Aelwyn. "Me? Not wily? Psssh, I am nothing /but/ wily, pretty boy. Ain't got the brawn, ain't got the finesse, but I gots tha brain and a tongue. And dragons can be colorful. Ever seen a faerie dragon? Pretty!"

She abates leaning on the table, a little sigh leaving her as she looks at Schara. Stares. Then grins. "You're smart, do ya take my words bein' literal? I'm a lyrical miracle, sweetheart. Take what I say at second definition. Anywho- no. I don't have a health condition. I jus' don't wanna drill a hole in my beak, ya dig?"

Wink.

Aelwyn carefully slides his tail about - slowly sneaking it towards Schara's helmet. "The red fiery sort, /obviously/," He says, giving Trixie an exaggerated tilt of his head. "... though if one were a dragon, would it matter?" Another sip from his mug as he mulls on those words. "This one feels Brass is very lucky - heart not made out of metal, and already witnessed a _large_ lizard and Pink. A very productive day."

And as Trixie distracts Schara with all her fanciful words - that tail attempts to sneak in a tap against the helmet.

"Piercing a ribbon? You could do that, possibly, but it wouldn't be that noticeable. You would be better served by some form of ornamental clasp if you were trying to make a ribbon look different." The artificer muses. Another head tilt. "Should I not be taking your words as you say them? I don't get out enough to know secondary definitions of most words, given the fact that most are based on group consensus that varies by town and time in general. Drilling a hole in a beak, that is, I am unsure if you are asking me to consider alternative definitions as well, given the fact that I have at least heard a beak used as a word for a nose before."

"It would matter little, yes? I am not sure why red is obvious. Because you are already red?" Schara asks, oblivious to any sort of trickery from the sith-makar.

Trixie tilts her head to the side while chuckling. "That is true! If you were a dragon, who cares! You're a /dragon/! But uh... large lizard? Is that shiny boi 'round here?" she asks, looking about before settling on Aelwyn. She blinks before a grin spreads across her face, her patting Aelwyn's arm. "Oh! Yes, you! Such a large, muscular lizard!"

The pink haired woman is taller than he.

She stares at Schara. "... oh. My. Ceiwen. You're adorable. We need to take you on a bender, hon. Don't ya think, Flutter?" she asks of Aelwyn.

"As for the beak thing, well-" She picks up an empty mug, flips it around so she's holding the base of it, and she brings it up to her face. Then- >clank clank clank<. It raps against something unseen right in front of her mouth. "I'm not human."

Aelwyn tilts his head towards Trixie, before he lets out a huff and breathes in - slowly flexing his body. He grabs Trixies hand and leans in, "A big strong dragon who'd have half the mind to take her for a ride in the clouds," He rumbles, "And drop her from her heights." He grins with a glint of danger in his teeth, before he relaxes and turns back towards Schara. "Perhaps don't use 'bender', or Brass will have the wrong impression." The Dragoon warns, "This one would not want to see that pretty brass bent."

"Shiny lizard? No, it is just Aelwyn, here. I don't know if he is shiny or not when not covered in dust, but he is pretty large for his kind I was told." The artificer explains. "I am adorable? I don't look or sound adorable, do I?" They ask, looking to the mug that was tapping against air. "Oh, that is an illusory glamor, and, you have an actual beak, and not a very large nose. How is it I seem to end up running in to the few egalrin in the city?"

"Aelwyn is, right." They admit slowly. "I do not know what a bender is. It sounds unpleasant."

Trixie leans in to listen, a brow quirking up before she laughs and thwacks him on the arm. "Oh no, I get dropped from a really big height, what will I eeeeeeeeever doooooo?" she sarcastically jokes. Something feathers ruffles behind her.

A look to Schara. "... as you're told?" A glance to Aelwyn. Then a cheeky grin. "Ah, yes, Aelwyn is the largest makari I have ever seen ever," she blatantly lies while patting his arm again.

"Yes, it's a glam. And you've met me! I figured ya'd have figured it out since I talk real unique like. Any whooo. A bender is goin' out drinkin' until ya get drunk! But I wouldn't suggest here. The Fernwood's a lot safer place ta lose conscious if that happens."

A glance to the exit. "Aaanyways. Much as I love talkin' to ya two, IIII'm gonna scoot outta here... I don't like this bar. Anyone wanna come wit' me?"

Aelwyn leans his head over towards Trixie, "This one was not talking of heights a few wings can save her," The Dragoon rumbles with another challenging chink of his teeth. Sliding his head over towards Schara, then back towards Trixie, "... there are more of her?" He asks, actually slightly worried.

Stretching out though, he gets up off his stool. "This one will. Will Brass see how well their not-metal heart can take?" The draconian asks - then gives that helmet a brief tap with his tail. Or attempts to, either way.

"I do not know enough people to make an assumption based on styles of speech." Schara admits. "Yes, I have never met a sith-makari before, either, so Aelwyn has told me about them."

"I do not feel particularly safe here, either, but the other bars were more expensive." They add with a look back over the tables to see some of the rowdy patrons. "I would like to leave, I think."

Tap tap tap, the helmet turns and regards Aelwyn. "You have confirmed I actually have a skull in here, so please be careful." Schara warns. "Why do you want to drop Pink out of the sky? And more importantly, how do you leave? Just give the person at the bar your coin and be on your way?"

Trixie snorts. "Yes, pay the bartender what ya owe. And its more expensive, but its even /more/ expensive ta get robbed while you're passed out. Anywho, come, come, let's blow this popsicle stand."

The illusioned woman gestures for the trio to exit.

"This was not sure. Brass does look more... brass." Aelwyn admits, truthfully, before he rumbles. "Pink is asking for it." He picks up his glaive and bows his head, before heading off the 'popsicle stand'.