Buncha Idiots in a Tavern

[Chickenspleen]

Tilia watches stunned as the man whose name she could not know is named Prince took his last breath. She considered pouring one out for this man, but causing a mess would not go well with the staff. Instead she downed her entire glass, almost choking on the gummi worm.

"You okay there?" the barmaid asks with an expression that seems less concerned and more amused.

"Um... I'm sorry for all of this mess."

Kahnom nudges Prince's foot with his own and watches it flop back into place.

"Definitely dead..."

The janitor finishes boarding up the windows and saunters over to mop the Prince off the floor.

Kahnom looks back at the barmaid

"Star chart? Outside you said? Yeah, that sounds like uh, yeah a great idea."

Kahnom quickly exits the tavern and looks straight up at the sky.

"Bitch, it isn't even night."

Through the poorly boarded window, Kahnom can hear the faint snickering of the barmaid.

"Watcha lookin' at there, sonny?" comes an old man's voice from behind him, "Tryna look at the moon before it comes up?"

Busting in from the living quarters upstairs Master Recon slams the door open in his drunken stupor. He looks around the tavern at the strange assortment of people who have collected in his place of business when his eyes land on the beautiful figure laying on the floor. The empty bottle fell to the floor shattering and sending shard of glass sliding across the wooden floorboards. To the best of his ability Master Recon stumbles over the the man and kneels besides him.

"Good night sweet prince."

After a moment of silence he looks back up the the people in the tavern.

"When the hell were you pissers gonna inform me about this?"

"Hey, don't look at me, I'm on bar duty," says the barmaid.

The janitor grumbles and goes to sweep up the broken bottle.

A lot of the less adventurous patrons have left by now. Between the blatant murder and the wrath of Recon, they've had about all they can handle for the day.

 

[Colonel Thunder]

Name: Alan Rickman
Race: Wizard
Class: Actor
Gender: Snape
Weapon of Choice: Page 394

Alan Rickman walks into the tavern, approaching the fairy.

"Ah you there," he says to the pixie. "You must be that lost creature the giant was rambling about. Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

 

[Walrus]

"So. Nice weather we're having?"

Name: Spy
Race: Foreign
Class: Communication Studies
Gender: Questioning
Weapon of Choice: Misdirection

 

[Jeroth]

Name: Tirin
Race: Canadian
Class: Tirin
Gender: Teal
Weapon of Choice: Time Powers, Tentacles, and Mod Edits

A second lingered uncomfortably long for the tavern as the teal figure arrived in the tavern.

"Ayyo fagits. Wut r u doin here?"

The teal-cloaked canadian's head swooped left and right as a permanent scowl was fixed on his mouth.

"Where is the czech fagit? Why have you guys not joined fancy nations? Where is Enmity?"

 

[Firedemon]

"I was trying to get out of that murderous mess I... uh... Er... I was trying to determine my location, since you people are apparently too primitive to map the stars yourselves."

 

[Chickenspleen]

"So. Nice weather we're having?"

Name: Spy
Race: Foreign
Class: Communication Studies
Gender: Questioning
Weapon of Choice: Misdirection

No one seems to notice Spy's entry into the tavern. Most are much more interested in the other new arrival.

A second lingered uncomfortably long for the tavern as the teal figure arrived in the tavern.

"Ayyo fagits. Wut r u doin here?"

The teal-cloaked canadian's head swooped left and right as a permanent scowl was fixed on his mouth.

"Where is the czech fagit? Why have you guys not joined fancy nations? Where is Enmity?"

Despite all the newcomers, the tavern seems to be getting emptier by the minute. Half of the exodus is made up of people who are ornery that MacGuffin hasn't shown up yet and figure this whole thing is probably a sham. The other half just doesn't want to contend with Alan Rickman and an attack helicopter for a spot in an adventuring party.

"I was trying to get out of that murderous mess I... uh... Er... I was trying to determine my location, since you people are apparently too primitive to map the stars yourselves."

The old man chortles loudly.

"Too primitive? My boy, I think you'll find that most questions around here can be answered with yer garden variety laziness."

He holds out his hand for Kahnom to shake.

"Name's MacGuffin. Old Man MacGuffin. My parents made somethin' of gamble when they named me. And you are?"

***

The barmaid calls out to Sheila, Alan Rickman, Spy, and Tirin.

"Are you people gonna buy something or should I just pour all my liquor on the floor?"

 

[Tirin]

Name: Tirin
Race: Canadian
Class: Tirin
Gender: Teal
Weapon of Choice: Time Powers, Tentacles, and Mod Edits

A second lingered uncomfortably long for the tavern as the teal figure arrived in the tavern.

"Ayyo fagits. Wut r u doin here?"

The teal-cloaked canadian's head swooped left and right as a permanent scowl was fixed on his mouth.

"Where is the czech fagit? Why have you guys not joined fancy nations? Where is Enmity?"

In the infinitesimal span between instants, a figure cloaked in teal appeared in the tavern. "'Sup, faggots?" He demanded of the other patrons, the smirk on his face carrying both certainty in his superiority and utter disdain for most everyone else in the tavern.

His eyes twinkled when the barmaid caught his attention, and for but a moment it seemed he might crack a smile. No such luck. "Get me the best rum 'n' Coke you've got or we're all gonna have a real bad time. How can you call this place a tavern if you just let a man's bee-ayy-cee get below 0.1?"

 

[Zircom]

Name: Richard
Race: Giant floating sentient penis
Class: CSI investigator
Gender: ???
Weapon of Choice: puns and also mind powers

Richard floats into the tavern and up to Alan Rickman and the faerie.

"Hello, I'm a police officer, maybe I can help the faerie get back to where he needs to be. My name is Detective Richard, but you can call me..."

takes of sunglasses

"Dick."

 

[Tirin]

"God damn, I've only seen cocks that big in Req's dreams."

 

[coolpool2]

"Pssh, I'm finnnne. This is nothing." Tilia said as she wobbled slightly, the alcohol already having an affect on her tiny body. Soon enough she was approached by a wizard looking fellow and a man named Dick. She stared at the two stranger for a moment before she made her reply. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to put up with this."

Tilia flies over to another table.

 

[Chickenspleen]

In the infinitesimal span between instants, a figure cloaked in teal appeared in the tavern. "'Sup, faggots?" He demanded of the other patrons, the smirk on his face carrying both certainty in his superiority and utter disdain for most everyone else in the tavern.

His eyes twinkled when the barmaid caught his attention, and for but a moment it seemed he might crack a smile. No such luck. "Get me the best rum 'n' Coke you've got or we're all gonna have a real bad time. How can you call this place a tavern if you just let a man's bee-ayy-cee get below 0.1?"

The barmaid sends Tirin a glass.

"Let me know when you're ready for Round Two," she says with a wink.

"Pssh, I'm finnnne. This is nothing." Tilia said as she wobbled slightly, the alcohol already having an affect on her tiny body. Soon enough she was approached by a wizard looking fellow and a man named Dick. She stared at the two stranger for a moment before she made her reply. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to put up with this."

Tilia flies over to another table.

This particular table is populated by two stereotypical Scotsmen having an argument about something stupid like which breed of lapdog is the best companion.

"Ye daft fuck, if'n I wanted a fat, ugly little beast sittin' around me 'ouse all day, I'd buy me a fookin' pig!"

"Ye jus' cannae accept that Poms dinnae make good family dogs, can ye?"

 

[Dunsparce]

While no one is looking, Jack sneaks into a room marked "employees only."

 

[Chickenspleen]

Strangely, Jack finds several boxes filled with pictures of that guy who was murdered earlier.

 

[Colonel Thunder]

"I'll buy a drink, provided it's depressing," says Alan Rickman.

 

[Chickenspleen]

"Pure opium extract it is, then."

The barmaid slides Alan Rickman a glass full of dark liquid.

"Psst, don't let the mayor know we have this shit."

 

[Colonel Thunder]

"Something something Potter" says Rickman, drinking the beverage

 

[Walrus]

Hm...pour liquor on the floor. This person must not like liquor, but why, and why would they have liquor here?..."

"Buy something? Sure. I can probably buy something. That's why I'm here. I'll have the usual thing that people most commonly get."

Spy glances down at his bag of coins. I sure hope whatever I'm getting myself into doesn't cost more than 500 gold.

 

[Firedemon]

Kahnom shakes the unknowingly primitive man's hand

"Kahnom. But I must insist, I need to see a star chart."

 

[Tirin]

Tirin downed the glass in short order, voicing a pleased sigh as the sweet, warming beverage washed over his tongue and down his gullet. He listened to as many of the nearby conversations as he could, and smiled. This timeline interested him. "'nother drink, lady, and make it quick."

When the barmaid returned, he greeted her warmly, though it did nothing to diminish the unearthly aura that hung about the outlander. "So, s'the deal with the crowds? I wouldn't think a place like this would get travellers from so far afield, especially not in numbers like this. Shit, I don't even know why I'm here beyond drinking."

 

[coolpool2]

"This place is crazy." The fairy flew over to the barmaid, only slightly swaying. "A second round please."