Welcome To The Wrong Choice

Take a while to leave!

[osha-janitor]

(( ooc: It's summer where I am and the heat is making it hard to think Sensibly, so I wanted to double check things - rb this if it's completely fine to just, randomly send an ask to start up an interaction with your character/s, either as just a casual one-off interaction or a reaction to whatever is currently happening/has just happened to your character!

Obviously anything Big And Plot Related should be discussed first, but I'm talking about just casual things like "hey wanna have a picnic" or "i found a weird hole in the wall wanna come check it out" and stuff ))

[speakeasy-osha]

[Fern, of @oshamortician, walks in, examining the bar with round, anxious eyes.]

Hello. I heard this was a speakeasy.

[Nezzie's eyes brighten, and she waves at Fern brightly.] 'ell hello there! How are you doing, stranger? Welcome to the Wrong Choice speakeasy, you're right on the money with that assumption!

@oshamortician

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[purple-osha]

Been trying to get away from things, figure out who I am. Calico still isn’t visibly or notably drunk, just relaxing a bit but nothing more than getting to know somebody would also account for. You?

[speakeasy-osha]

Trying to figure out how to combine alcohol and wood on a molecular level. It's inconsquential as hell but still interestin'! Self discovery's pretty berries too.

[purple-osha]

They tap their fingers rhythmically on their glass, just doing something for the sensory. You’re sure I can’t get another drink without it being watered down? Eldritch brings tend to have pretty high tolerance.

[speakeasy-osha]

What kind've eldrich bein' are ya?

[purple-osha]

If I knew, I’d tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Well, if I can't reference it, I can't legally (or morally!) give you anythin' but watered down rotgut. Sorry.

[purple-osha]

Fuck your morals.

[speakeasy-osha]

You could try, but they're unfortunately kind of mostly on the straight and narrow. Limit yer' intake and I'll see what I can do about recording your reactions for next time, alrighty-o?

[purple-osha]

Literally all that’s happened so far is I’m at where most sane people are sober. That’s actually pretty much what it is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Well. You still have most'ya cup, so. I'll ready some more, you keep it goin. Right?

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[purple-osha]

Been trying to get away from things, figure out who I am. Calico still isn’t visibly or notably drunk, just relaxing a bit but nothing more than getting to know somebody would also account for. You?

[speakeasy-osha]

Trying to figure out how to combine alcohol and wood on a molecular level. It's inconsquential as hell but still interestin'! Self discovery's pretty berries too.

[purple-osha]

They tap their fingers rhythmically on their glass, just doing something for the sensory. You’re sure I can’t get another drink without it being watered down? Eldritch brings tend to have pretty high tolerance.

[speakeasy-osha]

What kind've eldrich bein' are ya?

[purple-osha]

If I knew, I’d tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Well, if I can't reference it, I can't legally (or morally!) give you anythin' but watered down rotgut. Sorry.

[purple-osha]

Fuck your morals.

[speakeasy-osha]

You could try, but they're unfortunately kind of mostly on the straight and narrow. Limit yer' intake and I'll see what I can do about recording your reactions for next time, alrighty-o?

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[purple-osha]

Been trying to get away from things, figure out who I am. Calico still isn’t visibly or notably drunk, just relaxing a bit but nothing more than getting to know somebody would also account for. You?

[speakeasy-osha]

Trying to figure out how to combine alcohol and wood on a molecular level. It's inconsquential as hell but still interestin'! Self discovery's pretty berries too.

[purple-osha]

They tap their fingers rhythmically on their glass, just doing something for the sensory. You’re sure I can’t get another drink without it being watered down? Eldritch brings tend to have pretty high tolerance.

[speakeasy-osha]

What kind've eldrich bein' are ya?

[purple-osha]

If I knew, I’d tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Well, if I can't reference it, I can't legally (or morally!) give you anythin' but watered down rotgut. Sorry.

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[purple-osha]

Been trying to get away from things, figure out who I am. Calico still isn’t visibly or notably drunk, just relaxing a bit but nothing more than getting to know somebody would also account for. You?

[speakeasy-osha]

Trying to figure out how to combine alcohol and wood on a molecular level. It's inconsquential as hell but still interestin'! Self discovery's pretty berries too.

[purple-osha]

They tap their fingers rhythmically on their glass, just doing something for the sensory. You’re sure I can’t get another drink without it being watered down? Eldritch brings tend to have pretty high tolerance.

[speakeasy-osha]

What kind've eldrich bein' are ya?

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[purple-osha]

Been trying to get away from things, figure out who I am. Calico still isn’t visibly or notably drunk, just relaxing a bit but nothing more than getting to know somebody would also account for. You?

[speakeasy-osha]

Trying to figure out how to combine alcohol and wood on a molecular level. It's inconsquential as hell but still interestin'! Self discovery's pretty berries too.

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[purple-osha]

They almost pull away angrily but they relax, nodding and smiling slightly.

[speakeasy-osha]

[After a moment, Nezzie gives them a hearty hug and a clap on the back before breaking away and sitting back on her chair.] Well, enough of that nonsense. 'Less ya' want to talk more on that particular subject, what've you been up to lately?

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[purple-osha]

He eyes the hand for a second before shaking it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She pulls him forward, whispering in his ear while slipping a card into their pocket.] You're safe here. If you ever need an out, come back and say what's written on this playing card. I'll follow you home.

[speakeasy-osha]

A person with purple hair and cat ears walks in, looking around a bit.

- @purple-osha

[Nezzaine's face brightens and she quickly finishes scrubbing the cup she was washing.] Hey there, stranger! Don't you look like a right bearcat this fine evening? What can I do ya'?

[purple-osha]

Hmm. Depends on what you’ve got. He takes a seat at the bar. It’s hard to tell if he’s keeping his emotions off his face or if he doesn’t care.

[speakeasy-osha]

Practically anything! [The bar looks like a cozy, lived in version of a 1920's speakeasy- dim lights, wood-paneled walls, comfortable furniture and a wall full of revolving liquor stands behind the bar itself compressed into a space smaller than most real houses. Nezzaine leans in conspiratorially, a sneaky grin on her face.] Got a preference, or do ya' want the chef's pick?

[purple-osha]

Huh. They tilt their head slightly, a slight flicker of interest crossing their face before immediately being crushed down and shoved away. Chef’s pick, I guess.

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! Hmm... how about this? [Nezzaine grabs a small bottle of concentrated fruit flavoring, drops a few drips into a mug, then pours some almost-clear liquid into the mug from a large bottle. The liquid quickly shifts colors, precipitating from clear to a deep, sparkling purple in only a few seconds. She slides it over to Firefly.] One cup'a December Rain, here you are! Mind if I get your name? Not in a stealing way, just want to know!

[purple-osha]

They give the smallest hint of a smile. Maybe I’ll tell you when I finish my drink. He takes a small sip to test it.

[speakeasy-osha]

[It's sweet-ish, fruity, and strong. There's also a hint of the way that Pop Rocks fizzle in the liquid..? Something in that sense.] Understandable! M'name's Nezzie, if ya want to know.

[purple-osha]

He swirls it a little, keeping his expression carefully controlled before downing the rest of it in one go. Calico.

[speakeasy-osha]

That's a right hotsy-totsy name! So, Calico- what brings you to my side of OSHA?

[purple-osha]

Their eyebrows rise just slightly at what they’re pretty sure is a compliment, and it’s hard to tell if the expression is surprised or something else. Do I need a reason?

[speakeasy-osha]

No, but I doubt you don't have one!

[purple-osha]

Another drink and I’ll tell you.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ahhh, want to get sloshed beforehand? Understandable. [She whips up another of the same drink and hands it to Calico, then pulls up a seat and sits down with her elbows on the table.]

[purple-osha]

He drains the glass in one go again, giving very little reaction despite how strong the drink is. I’ll give you . . . three guesses to figure it out.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie hums for a moment, then counts off on her fingers.] One, long day at work. Two, don't know where else to go. Three, you just want to get half-seas over. Did I get it?

[purple-osha]

Two is pretty much it, don’t know what three means. They tap the side of their glass with a finger and slide it to Nezzie.

[speakeasy-osha]

Sloshed, zozzled, shitfaced, blackout drunk. That kind of thing. If ya' need a shoulder to cry on, I'm your cancelled stamp! What's up? [She refills the glass again, this time adding a third ingredient that makes it slightly less alcoholic before sliding it back to Calico.]

[purple-osha]

His eyes narrow slightly at the addition of a third ingredient. What did you add?

[speakeasy-osha]

Alcohol neutralizer. Turns some of the alcohol into water via chemical reactions. No clue whether you're immortal or not, but havin' this much of the good stuff will sour your health any day.

[purple-osha]

Hm. They take a small sip. I am immortal, and I happen to have a very, very high tolerance for alcohol.

[speakeasy-osha]

I'll keep it in mind, then! Mind elaborating on why you're here? All ears.

[purple-osha]

I came to get away. Needed a break from things. There’s more than just what he’s said but he traps it in the way he tightens his jaw to stop himself.

[speakeasy-osha]

Away from what, if ya' don't mind me askin'? I take my clients's healths very seriously.

[purple-osha]

From him. The faintest hint of red creeps into his tone on the final word.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzie squints and leans over the bar to offer her hand to shake.]

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Nowhere you would've heard of. It's incredibly far from here, on the intermultiversal scale.

[speakeasy-osha]

Firstly, you'd be surprised, and secondly, I asked when, not where. C'n figure yer from somewhere... feudal, maybe? Somethin' to that effect.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I said the when, it just happens to be very tied to the where due to it how far away it is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, a Z-axis traveller! Still, go on. We've seen our fair share'a those!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what that means.

[speakeasy-osha]

S'meone who's a, uh, parallel universe? That sort'a thing!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm from an entirely different multiverse, so not parallel. The human species is just a parasite upon All That Is, so we're basically everywhere.

[speakeasy-osha]

So not just an X and Z traveler, but a Y axis too. Interestin'! Sure wouldn't mind hearin' about your multiverse.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

You'd have to ask someone smart for details, because I'm an idiot.

[speakeasy-osha]

...you're not terribly easy to talk to, you know?

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Nowhere you would've heard of. It's incredibly far from here, on the intermultiversal scale.

[speakeasy-osha]

Firstly, you'd be surprised, and secondly, I asked when, not where. C'n figure yer from somewhere... feudal, maybe? Somethin' to that effect.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I said the when, it just happens to be very tied to the where due to it how far away it is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, a Z-axis traveller! Still, go on. We've seen our fair share'a those!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what that means.

[speakeasy-osha]

S'meone who's a, uh, parallel universe? That sort'a thing!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm from an entirely different multiverse, so not parallel. The human species is just a parasite upon All That Is, so we're basically everywhere.

[speakeasy-osha]

So not just an X and Z traveler, but a Y axis too. Interestin'! Sure wouldn't mind hearin' about your multiverse.

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Nowhere you would've heard of. It's incredibly far from here, on the intermultiversal scale.

[speakeasy-osha]

Firstly, you'd be surprised, and secondly, I asked when, not where. C'n figure yer from somewhere... feudal, maybe? Somethin' to that effect.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I said the when, it just happens to be very tied to the where due to it how far away it is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, a Z-axis traveller! Still, go on. We've seen our fair share'a those!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what that means.

[speakeasy-osha]

S'meone who's a, uh, parallel universe? That sort'a thing!

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Nowhere you would've heard of. It's incredibly far from here, on the intermultiversal scale.

[speakeasy-osha]

Firstly, you'd be surprised, and secondly, I asked when, not where. C'n figure yer from somewhere... feudal, maybe? Somethin' to that effect.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I said the when, it just happens to be very tied to the where due to it how far away it is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, a Z-axis traveller! Still, go on. We've seen our fair share'a those!

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Nowhere you would've heard of. It's incredibly far from here, on the intermultiversal scale.

[speakeasy-osha]

Firstly, you'd be surprised, and secondly, I asked when, not where. C'n figure yer from somewhere... feudal, maybe? Somethin' to that effect.

[speakeasy-osha]

Someone steps out of a rift in space-time in the middle of the bar.

I thought I smelled liquor.

@bounty-hunter-osha

Indeed you did, ya fine ol' torpedo! Welcome to the Wrong Choice. What can I get for ya today?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

A bottle of your highest proof.

Martein surveys the room, as if looking for threats.

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine gives a grin, grabs a bottle of alcohol off the wall, and thinks for a second before slamming it on the table in front of Martein.] Here y'are! You seem like the kind'a chap to need a full bottle.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She chugs the whole thing in very little time.

How much for the bottle?

[speakeasy-osha]

Hmm. How bout'a little bit of gossip? Don't get out much, see.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't got much gossip, I don't talk to many people.

[speakeasy-osha]

Ah, tell it to Sweeney. I'd bet my best liquor you've got a lot of stories to tell!

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I've got stories, sure, but I'm a shit teller. The stories aren't exactly that interesting either.

[speakeasy-osha]

Come on, I can't imagine you're a dewdropper! What 'bout yer job? Department, maybe?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm a bounty hunter. Not from any department, though.

[speakeasy-osha]

See, I knew you were a torpedo from the second you rifted in! There has to be some good stories there- used to know a few hunters a while back, actually. Right cake-eaters, those, but I can't blame em'.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Every story I tell is just finding a person and killing them, maybe dying a few times in the process.

[speakeasy-osha]

And I can't find that interesting? [There's a gleam in Nezzaine's eyes.]

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I mean, it's repetitive as shit and incredibly bland, but sure.

[speakeasy-osha]

Go on, then! I don't get out all too often.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Well, there was this massive beastial abomination causing problems for a small village. I shot it a few dozen times, and it died. Then I took the bounty money and left.

[speakeasy-osha]

Oh, what kind of massive bestial abomination?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Vaguely canine. Also an earth spirit. Supposedly unkillable. Wanted vengeance for the forest or something.

[speakeasy-osha]

You're telling me you fought the Lorax's fursona and you didn't think it was interesting???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I have no idea what the Lorax or a fursona is.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you have any idea what the internet is?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic communication waves from the magic computing boxes.

[speakeasy-osha]

That, uh. T. Well, it may seem like it, but it's not really all that magic?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Something something sufficiently advanced technology. It seems magic to me, so I'm gonna call it magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

I mean... I guess? Up to you. I think the internet is a right bit of fun, honestly! Especially how it all works.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I'm still gonna leave it alone. Too magic for me.

[speakeasy-osha]

Do you not... know how cell phones work?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

...rotary dial telephones?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

Still magic.

[speakeasy-osha]

Okay- what if- [She pulls out a tommy gun from the back side of the bar, fires it into the ceiling once, and then puts it back down with the safety now on.] Is that magic???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

That's a gun, so maybe.

[speakeasy-osha]

What have you been using to kill things this whole time???

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

She unshoulders her bow and then reshoulders it. She then starts pulling knives out of various places before putting them back again. There's a lot of knives. That's too many knives. It shouldn't be possible to conceal this many knives on one's person. Like, seriously, this is an excessive amount of knives. The knives just keep coming. She then unsheathes an arming sword before resheathing it again.

[speakeasy-osha]

...how do you even get marks for your targets? This seems a right roundabout way to go about things, honestly.

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Guild keeps track of all bounties.

[speakeasy-osha]

Now that sounds like a real interesting story. What kind'a guild?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

The Bounty Hunters' Guild.

The capital letters are audible.

[speakeasy-osha]

I suppose I should'a called that one out before y'said it! A, uh... what are they called again? Oh, right, a medieval guild? Or?

[pick-n-mix-mercenaries]

I don't know what medieval means, but probably. The place just looks like whatever the concept of "guild" means to your average visitor.

[speakeasy-osha]

...when are ya' from again?

[speakeasy-osha]

[A scarred blond man from @raptureosha in a pink sweater comes in, looking around a bit anxiously.]

Welcome welcome! To the Wrong Choice, I mean. How can I help you? [Nezzaine grins and waves at the man.]

-- @raptureosha --

[raptureosha]

Hello, [the man signs. They smile politely.] I just want a drink. What do you have?

[speakeasy-osha]

[Nezzaine squints, then her eyes brighten.] Practically anything! Got a desir'n for somethin' that'd get ya' half-seas over on the first sip? We have that! Anything and everything. Courtesy of yours truly. Why don't you have a seat, ya' hotsy-totsy lad?

[raptureosha]

[Jack makes a creaking noise that sounds like a chuckle and takes a seat.] Okay. Do you have plain whiskey, then?

[speakeasy-osha]

Indeed we do! Got a preference for strength?

[raptureosha]

Nothing too strong.

[speakeasy-osha]

[She slides across a small glass of whiskey.] Want to talk while ya' drink? Alright if not!

[raptureosha]

[He takes a cautious sip and then smiles at Nezzaine.] Sure!

[speakeasy-osha]

Righty-o! What's your story, stranger?