|kyrioscath (kyrioscath) wrote in thedas,|
@ 2010-07-17 05:54:00
|Entry tags:||! plot, ! thread, & 9:45 (5) molioris, @ aeolyn m'haaren, @ alderic thearre, @ constans ledaal, @ israa nilas, @ kyrioscath ansradar, @ lukaer ledaal, @ rhocanth garal, @ thais keigwin|
champagne is just ginger ale that knows somebody
Who: Kyrioscath Ansradar, and the rest of G2 entering the pub.
Where: A pub in Lothering
When: Molioris, 9:45 Dragon
Summary: How do you keep an idiot busy? (Also wut, recruitment?)
Status: In Progress
He didn't really make a habit of coming into town all that often. The reasons for that seem kind of obvious – there were a lot (well not really, but more than there were outside the city) of templars and generic chantry-folk running about the area, and periodically he 'emitted' fire without intending to. It was like asking to be abducted in the middle of the night. By big, scary men. And women. Well, sexy – well, no. There was a line. Anyhow.
Normally he tended to try and stick it out in the area around the city, getting what he needed from the merchants constantly creating a steam in and out, in and out. It was nice, away from people. Quiet and peaceful and he could meditate – or what he did that passed for it – and continue to learn how to hone and focus his 'skills'. There were lots of nice animals, and then some 'nice doggy, niiiiiice doggy' animals, and either way it was boring as hell. He needed people. The interaction, the amusement, the conversation. Even if it was just watching other people do it; he couldn't help himself. He was a social creature, and extended periods of time away from people just made him all grades of antsy and depressed and then things just started catching on fire and.. It was time to visit the city.
Kyrioscath had come in this morning, waiting around for a while and doing some generic control mantras and that sort before heading in. He hadn't wanted to get there right when people woke up, because after all, it was mostly the people and the life that he was going for. If they were all still bleary-eyed, it wouldn't really be all that interesting. He'd meandered around, looking at this, and that, chatting with one or two of the dwarven merchants, and then some of the other merchants, trading this and that for these and the other. Really just mingling as much as was possible. Wandering around, enjoying not being able to see jack shit aside from sternums and shoulderblades and elbows. Yyyeeahhh. Oh well.
The pub itself wasn't too bad either. Relatively well-populated with people, and the grub smelled good to him. He'd found a chair at the counter – as he intended on doing some inbibing; squirrels were nice and all but they didn't have beer – and settled in for a while, enjoying the sometimes drunken, sometimes loud, sometimes inappropriate, and always amusing conversations around him.
There is, however, always the exception.
A particular man, off to the side-centre of the room and parked obnoxiously well-within sight of the door, had clearly had too much to drink. By this point, Kyrio had been there for a while, and the man had only degenerated since his own arrival. He was mouthy, loud, and sort of vaguely unable to even figure out what kind of annoying he wanted to be. One minute he'd be coming on to someone, then he'd be insulting a whole group of people as a whole, then back to horny.. Ky did his best to appreciate yet another facet of social interaction, but it was clear that the man wasn't going to stop. He wondered how easily he could hex the area directly underneath the guy's chair for a little while, idly making himself feel a bit better, before sadly deciding that he wasn't staying put enough for it to work. Not to mention, with his luck, he'd wind up getting the person next to him instead, and that would just be.. unfortunate. No need to actually be stuck in the city; you didn't get to see a whole lot of people when you were in custody – well, you did for a little while, but then it was just the same anti-humour ones over and over again.
Which just meant that were he to take it upon himself to step in and.. Help, that it would be the old fashioned way. He didn't have a problem with that at all. Of course, as it was, there wasn't much in general he could work with, but he supposed that relatively soon, the drunk would say or do something that required some sort of intervention on the part of a do-good stranger. Or Ky. You know, whichever one got there first.