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| - Last Orders Tavern - Comorro Station - Comorro Station A smoky haze hangs in the air of this shadowy tavern, with chalky white walls of cartilage and tables that look like flat-topped mushrooms surrounded by cushioned metal benches. The central bar counter is a D-shaped structure of gray-green bone and cartilage, coated in the familiar protective webbing seen elsewhere aboard Comorro. Holovid projectors display news reports from throughout the worlds of Hiverspace, from Rigor Strand to Hekayt Prime. Vasco is just walking around randomly, seemly this place is the less crowded place that he could find without venturing too deep inside the bowels of the flying creature, he is tapping something on his PDA. "...Hrm," Kes replies, frowning. "Didn't think I got 'at drunk," she offers to Shep as the two of them enter, the little Later quite obviously perplexed. "Welp, if'n ya say so, Shep. I'll hafta not git m'self quite so drunk t'night so's I least 'member." She blinks. "Musta gone easy on me, ain't even sore." Yes, this is Kes and Shep, the Later leading the Solan by the hand. Sheppard happens to have a smoldering carrot perched between his lips like a cigar, "Wasn't 'at easy," he replies to Kes, shrugging a bit, "'Course, Ah was awful damn tired, 'adn't slept in two days, but yew were all jus' like 'come 'ere'n fuck me,' an' shit, so Ah did," Vasco continues just randomly walking around, until he becomes tired and sits in a empty table. Kestrel scampers along, Shep still in tow, the pair of them passing right by Vasco's table on the way up. "So, since I don' 'member, means we gotta do it 'gain," she replies, nodding soberly. A grin. "Gotta make sure ta be quiet, though, cause ain't 'zactly much inna way'a space. Mister Finch, 'is girl's back inna real universe an' all, so don' wanna make 'im all down, 'ey?" Vasco continues there, after some time he yaws, get something from his pocket, a wrench, then he starts spinning that wrench in the table with one hand, while tapping the PDA buttons with the other hand. "Aye," Shep replies, breaking off to head towards the bar, "Gonna see what Ah can get fer 'ese teeth," he states to her. "Well lemme go with ya," Kes calls after Shep, now trotting to catch up. She hops up onto a stool at the bar, and looks over at him, grinning. "Ya collect more t'day?" she asks. Vasco is sitting on a table, alone, he spins with a finger a wrench that is over the table, and he uses a finger in the other hand to tap buttons on his PDA also on the table, eventually he lifts his head to watch the movement, and see Sheppard and Kestrel walking toward the bar, then he lowers his head again and his gaze focus back on his PDa. Pink Sasquatch + Bear Mace = PWNAGE Sheppard shoots the couch. Tamila continues dragging her large, partially rusted metal bar towards the, well, bar. "Aye, got a few," Shep replies, "'Member 'ose furry things? Killed somma 'em, made sure 'ey weren't mah friends, ;ough," he replies, taking out a fist full of what looks to be bloody teeth from his kevlar. Kestrel laughs, and leans over to rough up Shep's hair and kiss his cheek. "'Em 'coons, y'mean? I dunno, Shep, 'ey're pretty cute." A pause. "'En 'gain, so's Castori, an' 'ey's fuckin' psionists, too. Uck." She blinks at the fistful of teeth. "Damn, been busy." Vasco notices the bloody teeth show when he raises his hand to stretch his neck, and discretly he ignores, paying attention only to his PDA. Tamila looks towards the bar, then towards the pipe, then back towards the bar. One end of the bar is placed on the bar, and then the woman starts to push the bar up onto the counter. More sweat starts to form on her brow as she tries to lift the piece of metal. She doesn't really seem to be paying attention to what's going on around her at the moment. "Yew doin' a'ight, Tam?" Shep asks as he notes whatever it is Tam's doing. After that, it's to Kes, "Aye, but 'ese ones weren't mah friends," "Gotcha," Kes replies, nodding. A look askance to Tamila. "So whatcha think 'bout it down 'ere? Think mebbie we could, y'know, carve us out a li'l slice a home?" She grins at that. "Th'stink up top keeps th'dumb ones out. Mostly, anyhows." where "Almost," Tamila says, her body starting to tremble from exertion and the pipe just doesn't move. "Almost got it." She pauses, looking towards Kes and Shep. She seems uncertain for a moment and then nods. "Reckon we could. 'Sides, the dumbs would get themselves killed there, anyway," she says with a smirk. Her eyes then shift towards Shep, "I get a hand? This damn thin's heavy." Kestrel hops down off her seat and tries to help Tamila lift the metal bar. Unfortunately, this has little to no effect, except that there are now -two- trembling sets of girly arms involved. A glance at Shep, then. "...Li'l help 'ere?" Sheppard does just that, standing up, and all but effortlessly pushing the bar up, "Damn, 'at was easy," he states, "An' aye, carve out our own little empire 're somethin'," "Than's guys," Tamila says, as she rests up against the counter of the drinking bar. "Ain't able to get it on the bar, don't thin' you can trade it. Traded one-a them beavers lighter fluid and a single match for this," she says with a dark grin. "Figure I can get a bottle or two for it." "...Psh. We loosened it for ya," Kes says, poking Shep in the side as she hops back up on her barstool. A nod at Tamila. "Seems like a good way ta do it. Keep people from, y'know, tradin' off ships an' such. Like ta clean ya out 'at way, 'ey?" A grin then, and a nod at Sheppard. "'Zactly what I was thinkin' Gotta find out who's boss down 'ere already, an' size 'em up." "Fuck bosses, we can take 'em out," Shep replies simply, "An' naw yah didn't, yah didn't do no good ta 'elpin'," Vasco is sitting on a empty table, he is spinning a wrench that is on the table using a single finger, and using another finger of the another hand to tap buttons on his PDA, that he is reading calmly. "Did so!" Tamila says to Shep, shaking her head. "Woulda got up here if I didn't drag it all the way up. That gerbil woulda had it still." She looks towards Kes and nods. "Hell, that stuff I was drinkin' last time ain't bad. Stron' though." Tamila, Kestrel and Shep are all at the bar, and they all have a faint lingering smell of the waste management facility. There's a large, partially rusted bar on the counter. Kestrel snorts. "Fuck you, Michael Sheppard," she replies. "I helped. We loosened it, same as ya loosen a jar lid, only we helped pull it loose from fuckin' -gravity-. Now 'at's sixteen kinds'a fuckin' great all in a big ol' can." She nods smugly. "Damn fuckin' skippy we kin take 'em out. Gotta find out who 'ey are first, though." Sheppard is one heavily armed Solan male, that bandoleer of twenty grenades still hangs around him. He's also smoking a carrot, that is to say, a smoldering carrot is perched between his lips like a cigar. "Yer both jus' lyin', Ah lifted 'at thing all by mahself an' yew two both know it," Suddenly, the door is kicked open. Dramatically. Except it's not. Not really. Someone on the other side certainly freaking tries, though.
* WHUD!* Pause. *WHUD... WHUD... WHUD!* And then there is a hilariously girlish shriek. The porous membrane that serves as the portal connecting the bar to the outside "corridor," such as it is, suddenly sucks in the offending foot with a slurp that reverberates through the room. It spits out the attacker -- *blort!* -- like a bumbler spitting cud, propelling a skinny, scarf-wearing humanoid female through the air. Patrons shout and yelp and bark in a veritable gumbo of languages as Mika crashes into a table, bowling it over as she tumbles head-over-tailbone with glasses and cups and dishware sailing every which way. Mika's passing leaves a facepalming Demarian in her wake. Silvereye sighs, strolling after the rogue to make sure that she isn't broken. Not that we should be so lucky, Mikas bounce. "Psh," Kes replies, jabbing Shep in the ribs with a fist. She hitches her rifle up on her back, and finally seems to give up on it, instead setting it right beside her. "...Man. Don't feel like I kin put anythin' down in 'ere without keepin' three eyes onnit. Fuckin' 'coons gonna take off with it. S'as bad as back... th'fuck?" The Later perks up and looks over at Mika. "'Ey look, Shep, gotta show ta go with our booze." Vasco sees Mika coming in with style, he stands and runs toward the more distanced place from her and hides below a table, he tucks his PDA back in a pocket, but he holds the wrench firmly on his hand. "Next you be tellin' us you're Mister Gray, wank!" Tamila says in defence. "I was tired. I dragged the piece of junk all the way up here." She turns her head towards the commotion, peers towards Mika for a moment and then just laughs. Jaswinder follows Mika in with a quiet but largely helpless laugh, as if the Timonae just can't stop himself. "Life is just too beautiful with you around, little avatar," he says, and goes to help her up. "Aw, seriously?" Shep asks Tam, before the door is 'kicked' in, "Well damn, she's either a fuckin' meat eaters or jus' stupid as 'ell," he remarks to Kes, before turning to the bartender and laying out a variety of teeth, including multiple Demarian fangs, "'Ow much can Ah get fer 'eese?" "Did th'-- did th'-- did th' /god-damned bloody door/ jus' try ta eat me?" Mika asks of her Timonese cohort, seeming a little dizzied and unstable - in more ways than one - but perhaps no worse for wear. She hitches over, favoring her side with a grimace, but straightens fractionally after a few moments. "Sin an' /sterlin'./ 'ey, who's got quid?" She pitches her voice to carry, still clutching the tattooed forearms of the Artemis's first officer. "Quid, /quid!/ Where's th' quid! Which one o' ye lucky muckers is gonna bankroll th' bloody Battleclaw's bartab? Th' Battleclaw," she roars, "needs 'is /sauce!"/ Silvereye just sits as Mika starts prattling on. He rights the table she upended and rests his elbow on it, rubbing his eyes. "Hells, Mika, /no one cares/." Vasco sees Jaswinder there too, he then try even better to hide around, and even pockets back the wrench, he crawls around the 'building' trying to always stay away from Mika. Kestrel blinks and looks Mika over curiously. "...I dunno, Shep, might be she's jest... y'know..." She twirls a finger by her temple for emphasis. After a few moments, she calls back, "'EY! Firstcha tell me whatta Battleclaw is, an' 'en mebbie we buy 'im a drink." A shrug goes to her Solan companion. "I wanna know whatta Battleclaw is. Sounds fuckin' cool." Tamila shakes her head towards the commotion and turns back towards Sheppard and Kestrel. "Second, I thin'. Dropped on her head or somethin'," she dryly remarks as her expression goes neutral once more. She protectively rests a hand on the rusted bar and looks over her shoulder towards the the noiser group, and appears to be waiting to see what the reply to Kestrel's question is. "She ain't the meat eater type," Shep replies with a nod to Kes, taking a 'drag' on his carrot, before looking to Kes, "'Oo says Ah'm buyin' some guy a drink? Ah'm buyin' yew an' me a drink," before back to the bartender, "Wait, what? Only three fuckin' drinks? Yah know what 'is is mate? 'S a fuckin' Demarian fang," Shep says, holding said fang up, "Know what it takes ta get onna 'eese?" Jaswinder grins, and takes a seat. "It's all barter, Mika. I think Kit's going to have to foot your tab, as they like to trade in tech." Poking his head into the tavern, Duhnen grimaces at either something or everything, before slipping out. Mika snorts, stumbling yet again and fumbling an uncertain grip on the table's edge. "Bugger /that,"/ she snorts, trudging with a noticable limp through the maze of tables, artfully ignoring - and perhaps even enjoying - the eyes cast her way. "It was th' year o' our Lord Three-Thousand-an'-Five!" she bellows, her perpetually-gloved left hand fishing around her jacket's interior pocket. /"Nalia,/ Queen o' the Piss'ead, Pencildick Legion o' /Scalebacks/ thunnered inta th' blinkin' Orion Arm wot thinkin' she coul /claim 'er bloody birthright,/ an' millions 'pon millions fell /slaughtered/ by th' Naliese ideal o' /mercy/ -- a /railgun/ ta th' blinkin' ches'," she narrates, steely eyes finding the bartender and holding steady eye contact. She draws nearer, one step at a time, slow and deliberate. "One man said no. /One man./ One man, 'gainst an armada o' /bloodthirsty, bone-crunchin' Nall!/ One man. /Battleclaw Silvereye Painted'eart!"/ Her good finger points back at the big black cat, though she does not look his way. "They called 'im th' /Scaleslayer!/ Th' /Crimson Arrow!/ Th' /Naliese Nightmare!/ This one man cut 'is way through an 'alf-dozen ranks o' /Nall elite/ all on 'is lonesome, cuttin' an' choppin' limbs an' tails an' 'eads off all wot dare 'ppose! One man stood in th' bloody Sand Mother with blood on 'is claws an' scales in 'is fangs, one man 'merged alive from that /awful, awful bloodbath. Battleclaw Silvereye Painted'eart. An' d'ye know 'ow 'e did it?" Mika slams a common bottle opener on the bartop. "With this." Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. "Th' Battleclaw wants 'is drink." "Oh Brakir spare me from this..." Silvereye grumbles, "If I had known mocking me was her booze ticket I would've stayed behind." He remarks to Jaswinder. "'Kari's sword, Shep," Kes lectures in a faintly exasperated tone. Out of one pocket, she pulls a battered data disk, which is waved at Shep. "See? Mostly letcha buy stuff cause it makes ya feel all manly an' suchlike, but if'n I wanna buy 'is Battleclaw guy a few drinks cause 'e's gotta fuckin' cool name, I'll fuckin' do it." She listens through Mika's diatribe, then fairly cackles with laughter. "Pretty sure th'Birthright War didn't go nothin' like 'at, but hell, I like any story where Nalls go back ta 'eir 'Kari-cursed whore-goddess, yup." She waves the computer disk at the bartender, and puts it down on the bar, nodding. Sheppard blinks a touch, "Wait, A fuckin' Demarian killed all 'em Nalls?" Shep asks, looking confused for a moment, before Kes mentions 'Birthright War', "Oh, 'at. Damn, Ah've killed more," he shrugs. ooc ahahaha... Tamila drums her fingers against that metal bar, eyes still on Mika as she speaks. A smirk forms and she starts to snicker as she listens to Sheppard's remark. She raises a hand up and covers her eyes and gives a faint groan. A somewhat distinct sound of mingling chain and plate sounds as Norran enters the tavern, cloak swaying at the tops of his sabatons as he walks his way toward the 'bar'. He glances curiously between the patrons as he moves, sidestepping patrons and tables in nearly practiced movements. Jaswinder nods toward Silvereye. "Go and ...find some vital piece of teaching for your armored protege," he advises quietly. "She's just been spat out by a *door*. I doubt your embarrassment will stop her." Silvereye's ears perk as something reaches him in the wake of Mika's speech. He glances at Sheppard. He's exhausted. He's frustrated. He's embarassed. In short, he's close to collapsing and in those circumstances it's best not to fight back against the person irritating you but to escalate the conflict and involve as many people as possible. "I've killed more Nall than anyone in this room!" The Battleclaw bellows. "I didn't happen /anything/ like she said, but, hells, the accomplishments of my Militia will not be slandered or dismissed!" Mika nods primly to the barkeep, propping an elbow on the counter's edge while she lights up a cigarette. Conveniently, she misses the pass of computer parts between Later and proprietor, and thus the arrival of four flagons of rich red Hekayti pisswater is taken entirely in her own credit and met with a smug, satisfied nod. She's blowing out a plume of smoke when Silvereye starts raging in the name of his soldiers, regarding the militiacat with a cool brow and a set jaw while grey curls climb lazily toward the ceiling. "O-kay," the rogue allows, spreading her hands amenably, "so maybe there were like a /couple more/ Naliese Nightmares." Kestrel just blinks and goes quiet, then takes a deeeeeeeep breath. "Th'only GOOD Nall's a DEAD Nall!" she roars out in reply to Silvereye, thumping one fist on the bar. "Don' matter who killed more. Ya kill -one-, yer alright in my book." Picking one of the four vessels, she raises it and toasts: "Ta suitcases, belts, an' boots -- cause 'em's th'only things what Nalls's good for." "FUCKIN' NALL!" Shep joins in in the yelling. He ends up taking one of the vessels, then a second. That one gets handed to Silvereye, "Ta fuckin' dead Nalls!" While Shep's distracted with who's killed the most Nall, Tamila takes the chance to try to steal the bartender's attention. She appears to be trying to ignore the bellowing going on from nearly everybody and sighs. She pulls out several chip that looks a lot like Kes', though they're in bright collars and sort of look ones that could be found in a casino. She puts them down, then motions towards the bar, and then a large bottle of something brown. Silvereye takes the vessel offered to him and aggressively strikes it against Sheppard's, though with the practiced strength of someone who doesn't want to break it. "FUCKIN' NALL!" He shouts back, then starts to drink. And drink. Norran pauses at the yelling, looking over the group with a bit of a confused glance before shrugging his armored shoulders. He gives a slight bow of his head to Silvereye as he passes, but otherwise decides to continue toward his intended destination with a shake of his head. "Such strange outlanders." As if the onetime Demarian privateer needs any excuse to curse the warmongering forces of the Parallax. Mika vaults onto her stool as the cries go up, sloshing foamy brew over the frosty stein in-hand as it's hefted in heartfelt toast. Whether OATO or OAU, there is one thing those separated by the vast valley of time can agree on: /"FUCKIN' NALL!"/ Add one more to the chorus! Kes tacks, "FUCKIN' NALL!" onto the end of her little speech, before she winks over at Mika and in a similar fashion to Silvereye, starts drinking and just doesn't stop. Shep doesn't comment anymore, just taking the vessel and starting to drink. It doesn't look like he's going to stop before it's all gone, either. Silvereye slams down the foul tasting Hekayti crap, all the while trying to dispel thoughts of sweet Demarian red ale...He slams the flagon down on the bar counter when he's finished, taking a ragged breath. Tamila still doesn't get involved and shouting, and she waits in anticipation for her bottle to arrive. It finally does, just about Kestrel's roar. She unscrews the bottle, and then raises it up high. Finally, she joins in, but goes comletely to everyone else, "For the Syndicate!" Norran takes his seat, ordering a drink with what little currency he's managed to acquire and taking a deep sip from it as he ponders the possible meanings. "Canals? ... no, that doesn't make very much sense at all..." mutters Norran, the Imperial eventually giving a shrug and taking a swig. Whatever, it doesn't matter that she doesn't know what the Syndicate is - Mika toasts it gratefully, echoing Tamila's shout before guzzling the better part of her own foul tasting Hekayti crap where she stands on the barstool. She comes up for air, gasping sweet oxygen gratefully, appending, "Fer th' Fox an' th' 'oun'! Fer D'maria! Fer th' god-damned /Junkyard,/ Christ res' yer merry soul!" And down goes the rest. Kestrel finishes the rest of her drink, and similarly slams the flagon down on the bar. A belch escapes her after a brief moment. Classy. A pause, and she eyes the people around her and just -grins-. "See? Now 'at's somethin' what don' care 'bout time 'erself. S'universal. Nall suck." Cue laughter, and the Later digging for more 'currency' in her pocket, whatever it may be. Sheppard slams his own flagon down, "Fuckin' Nall," he reiterates, "Fuck 'em all. Yah know, 'ey ripped mah fuckin' spine outta mah back. Damned meat eatin' fuckin' bastards," Tamila finally gets to have a drink from her bottle, tilting her head right back after raising her bottle in toast to Mika. She coughs and some of the fluid escapes from around the edge of the bottle, which results in her leaning forward quickly to avoid any more loses. She looks towards Norran both brows raised. "Hey. He just proposed a toast to anal. I ain't toastin' that!" Somewhere in the yelling, canal got perverted. Silvereye settles back at the rush, some of Sheppard's words lost as he sits heavily. "Spine?" He shakes his head at Sheppard. "Hells...there's not enough liquor in the universe." "Of course you wouldn't, M'lady!" sarcastically calls the Lomasa in return. With no further delay, his drink finished, Norran sees it best to rise and make his way swiftly for the exit. "Speak fer yerself, mate," drawls Mika down to Tamila, smacking her lips once as the taste of the beer finally settles on her tongue. Her nose is wrinkled, but it's difficult to tell if the expression there is one of distaste or mere contemplation. Or both. "Well now, ye can right blinkin' chew this 'ooch, eh?" Cigarette perched between her fingers, she sets the empty glass down and hops to the floor. "I think it's 'igh time fer a jolly ol' shit. Where's th' pisser? I need a pisser!" And so it goes, all the way to said pisser... one can only hope. "'Ey killed Shep 'ere twice," Kes says, nodding. "Fucked me up pretty good couple'a times, didn't manage ta kill me, though. Nosir, Saints was watchin' over me, tell ya what." She grins and slides something across the bar -- a coil of copper wire. A glance and a nod are given as Mika leaves, before the Later holds up four fingers to order another round, probably of that same heinous Hekayti beverage. But hey, booze is booze, right? Tamila looks lost for works at Norran's come back, and then trails off into a laugh. "Smart arse tribal! You got round one," she calls out with a grin. Once Norran's departed, she slips off the barstool, eyes goin' towards Mika and she laughs faintly. She shakes her head, then looks back towarsd Kes and Shep with a broad grin, "Those cans of accelerant ain't gonna... Eh... End up in the incinerator without help. I better go... Yeah, take care of it." The TKer makes her way towards the exit, with the bottle of whatever she's drinking in hand, with a mischievous grin on her lips. "Aye, onna the buggers jumped out from behind a bulk'ead, mates said 'ee ripped mah spine clean out, said it wasn't pretty," Shep replies to Silver, "'En 'ere was an artillery shell," he states with a nod, "Well Kes, yad drunk enough?" he asks. "Altheor's Teeth." Silvereye replies, holding his head in one hand. It's not likely given his size that the alcohol has rushed to affect him, but it is clear that the Battleclaw is retreating inside himself and probably wishes he had some more to barter drinks for. Kestrel leans over to kiss Shep on the cheek. "Jest fer you? Ain't gotta be drunk 'is time." She grins, and sends all four drinks down Silvereye's way, then hops down off the barstool and shoulders her rifle. "C'mon, 'en, less go, Sarge. Double-time, ya big goon." A wink aside to the Demarian. "Enjoy, Battleclaw. Enjoy." With that, she grabs Shep by the hand and does what she can to haul him away. "A'ight, le'ss go," Shep replies, "Nall Killer, yew jus' get drunk, 's good fer yah," Silvereye gets right on that, sarge. He's drinking it fast and in a few moments he'll be drinking it alone. Perhaps not so good for him.
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