Sloshed

Log Info

• Title: Sloshed
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Thurid
• Place: Fernwood Pub
• Time: October 15th, 2021
• Summary: In the Fernwood, Aryia and Thurid are swapping stories as they are growing more sloshed with each passing drink. Five cups deep now, the topic turns to the spiciest of them all: romance. Aryia flusters while filling in Thurid about her relationship with the enigma that none have yet to meet. Such topic reversed, Aryia getting even Thurid to be embarrassed at recounting their own connection. They speak of love, and how one gives it freely, and the other harbors it for safety. The mood turns light, and as the drinks really start to settle in, Aryia asks to be lectured about Angoron. To which Thurid enthusiastically obliges.

Fernwood Pub, Evening.

The cold front creeping in sweeps more and more souls into establishments to see hearth and nourishment. And with the setting of the sun, more people crammed into the place.

Already having claimed a table for quite some time, a scarred mul'neissa woman in a verdant green jacket was sloppily gesturing to her giantborn friend across the way. "And that's why you coil your fucking ropes on a ship, else you'll be dangling from the mast for fucking who knows how long until the wind calms down to get you!" Aryia finishes elaborating a story on the sea, her picking up her fifth pint and sipping on it as a half full plate of snacks rests between them. Her face is flushed crimson from cider, but she's enjoying herself greatly. <Handspeech>

Thurid is sporting a broad gap-toothed grin and a healthy flush, replete with a cherry red nose thanks to the effects of the alcohol. She's at the tail end of a laughing fit at Aryia's story, wiping tears from her eyes and catching her breath. She takes a hearty glug of her cider, some of it spilling on her chin- she wipes it off with the back of her arm and then sets it down. "That's why I don't trust the bloody things! Airships, sailships, landh- er, no... wagons! None of em. I just walk!" she says, reaching out to clap Aryia on the shoulder as she bursts into another fit of gut-busting laughter.

To accompany her larger size, Thurid is swigging from larger mugs, and is deep in her cups as well. As this latest mirthful outburst is finished, she leans forwards across the table, so she can conspirationally 'whisper' though her indoor voice isn't so indoor at the best of times, much less when fueled with a goodly amount of alcohol. "So!" she begins, pausing to lean back a bit and hiccup. "So. Catchin' up is great an' all, but you know why we're here. So c'mon. Shpill it." she says, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Aryia rocks back and forth from the shoulder clasp, her snickering in her breathy manner that held no timbre but all the air. She sets her drink down, wiping off her face and grinning stupidly. "Sometimes walking doesn't cut it!" she snips back with a hand.

Glowing eyes blink as the topic shifts, Aryia glancing away as a demure smile breaks across her lips. "... Spill what...?" she weakly deflects, though her face betrays all sorts of embarrassment. <Handspeech>

Thurid doesn't let up, though, and the hand clasping Aryia's shoulder becomes an arm strewn haphazardly across them as she leans in, "The lucky gal!" she says then, showing none of the delicacy one probably shouldn't expect from her by now. "C'mon, I want to know everything. Its great! You're a good- a good woman, you know? You ought to have a good woman by yer side." she insists then, leaning an elbow on the table as she blinks away the haze of drunkenness for a moment.

"So tell me all about 'er." she insists then. "'s what we're drinking about, after alll..." a pause, and she frowns- momentarily perplexed. "Isn't it?" she wonders.

Normally such questions would pit Aryia into a blundering, embarrassed mess, but alcohol was quite excellent at lowering inhibitions and anxieties. She sips more of that warm cider, closing her eyes as a long sigh escapes her. "... fine fine..."

She leans back into the arm across her shoulders and opens her eyes to the ceiling. "Violet is... smart. And pretty. And nice to me," Aryia's hands start out, framing this mysterious 'other' that the elf has found. A warm smile washes across her face at the thought of them, and as she explains more, the more the words flow with ease. "I met her about a month and some change ago while I was getting supplies for making clothes. She got jumped in an alleyway, I saved her, and we sort of have just been... spending time together."

Her gaze drops to Thurid for a moment, then off to the side. "I've never been with a human before. It's... odd, for certain. But fascinating." <Handspeech>

Thurid for her part just has a big stupid grin on her face when Aryia begins to talk. She nods her head along enthusiastically at the description, and then takes a swig of her drink while Aryia mentions how they met. "Aha! I knew you had the makings of a hero in you!" she offers with a wink and a chuckle.

She claps Aryia on the back, and leans back again at the last topic. "Aye, I s'pose it might be." she says then. "Well, I'm pleased for you. I really am. You deserve the besst."

She leans in close once more, and raises her eyebrows lasciviously. "So... " she says, her grin growing wicked. "Being with a human is 'fascinating' is it?" she wonders, with a waggle for added emphasis.

Aryia ducks her head a bit and rubs the back of her neck. "I... wouldn't say hero, just... being me, is all..." she weakly explains, her getting jostled around by the large paw that claps at her. But uncaring. It was kind of fun to talk about such thing-

The mute elf blinks at Thurid, then her face turns further scarlet. A deft fist slugs Thurid in the arm. "Not like that!"

...

"... okay sort of like that, but STILL!" she bites back, stumbling over her gestures. "I mean like... uh... they sleep for SO LONG! And they're so blind in the dark!" <Handspeech>

Thurid takes the thump in stride and she leans back again, letting out a deep belly laugh at Aryia's flush, one hand holding her gut lest it bust. She wipes her eyes again and leans back in with a broad grin plastered on her face. "Now, now. It's nothing to be ashamed of." Thurid asserts then as she settles down. "The birds do it, the bees do it. There's nothing wrong with it." a beat, "Despite what some of those stuck up paladin sorts might say." she snerks.

She takes another swig of her drink as she watches Aryia's hands move with one eye, spare hand coming up to adjust the winged helm that's threatening to slip off her head. "Oh, I forget you elves don't really sleep." she says then. "As for the differin' eyesight... you could use that to your advantage in certain situations. If you're imaginative enough." she muses, saucily.

Aryia's hands flail. "I-I'm not ashamed! I just... don't talk about these things!" she flusters. "It's embarrassing!" Despite such statements, she was wearing a smile as well, trying to keep her snickering under wraps, and failing.

She blinks a bit innocently. "What do you..." Crimson. A squint. "Th-r-d!" she hisses, another slug to the arm. The mute sighs, shaking her head and polishing off her last mug. "We still need to rest. Lie down so the body can mend. But no, we don't completely pass out. Which is... so strange that others need to do that for me. I'd go crazy losing so much of my day spent just sleeping!"

She nibbles on some bread at the table before reversing the conversation on it's head. "And you? What about you? You said you met someone!" she points at Thurid, getting some of the pressure off of her. <Handspeech>

Thurid takes the second thump on her arm in stride, chuckling at it, "Keep that up and you might leave a bruise." she teases. She fetches a snack for herself, keeping one eye on Aryia's sloppy handspeech as she pops it into her mouth in one and chews on it, washing it down with a swig of her cider.

As Aryia turns it around on her, she beams happily, "I did indeed!" she says then, her cheeks already flushed from the booze, but growing no redder as the conversation shifts onto her own personal life. "Choler, her name is." she continues. "Gods she's adorable. Makes me grin just thinking about her." she says then- though, she's been grinning most of this time.

Aryia makes a 'tut' sound at the notion of a bruise, her smirking and shaking her head. Though, her attention focuses some as Thurid answers her conversation reversal. White brows rise. "Oh? How is she adorable? When did this happen? Meet her on your trip?" she queries, leaning in and seemingly very interested despite her earlier fluster. The elf was terrible with relationships, and she'd take evry note she could on others about how they go about it.<Handspeech>

Thurid hmms at the question, and she taps her chin as she thinks on how to answer. "Well, she acts all surly, but she's a softie really. She's pretty, though she won't admit it. Looks after herself- works out nearly as much as I do." she says then, listing off her own standard for cuteness. "And she's... shyer than she likes to admit, at times." she adds then, getting a dreamy look about her as she lets out a very uncharictistically girlish giggle.

She shakes her head at the question, "Oh, no, we met some time ago. Ended up getting into a drinking competition down at the Ox-Strength that... uh... may have gotten a bit out of hand." She admits, and this does make her flush a bit as she rubs the back of her neck. She clears her throat, and then continues- swiftly moving on from that topic. "And we'd seen one another a couple times since then. It was only after I got back we realized we'd missed each other quite as much as we did and, well, decided to see each other more often."

It looks as if Aryia and Thurid had different standards, for certain, but she grins warmly at Thurid's little laugh. Oddly, it was fitting for the giantborn. Herself even silently giggling as well behind a hand- a notion that was odd as it held only the motions and none of the sound- as even Thurid was tripped up on such topics. "A bit out of hand might be an understatement," she signs with a wink.

"Though, that sounds wonderful. I'm glad you two found each other. It's... really nice to have someone to come back to, you now? Like... just the sight of them melts away all the worries," Aryia gestures with a soft expression, projecting some. <Handspeech>

Thurid's flush deepens at Aryia's comment, clearly more embarassed about whatever happened during that drinking competition than she is talking about her love life. "Let's just say, I'm surprised they leet me back in, an' leave it at that." she says then, huffing a sigh and then closing her eyes, chugging a couple more big gulps of her mug- which empties it. "Another round over here!" she shouts out to a passing waitress, waving her now empty mug, before setting it down.

"I'm glad I found 'er too." Thurid says, smiling warmly at Aryia's next comment. She nods her head in agreement, "An' the thought of returning to 'em speeds your journey home." she adds on.

Aryia snerks at the addendum, her shaking her head and joining Thurid in getting another drink; her waving her empty mug in the air before dropping it to join the small pile gathered on the empty side of the table. The elf was properly sloshed now, her propping her head by a hand with an elbow on the table.

Her eyes grow a bit downcast. "Yes. It... certainly does. When I was in Charn, all I could think about was 'I have to get back to Violet.' It's like I could see her eyes. Watching. Hoping I'd be alright." Her signing hand curls into a tight fist, the shimmer in her eyes growing brighter. "I've never felt such burning rage to get back safe before." <Handspeech>

Thurid grins over at Aryia, and nods her head. "Is the best motivator, I rekon." she says then, leaning into the table once more. It flexes slightly in her direction as she rests both arms on it and her sternum against its edge. "Love, that is." she adds after a moment- her bright eyes twinkling as she speaks the words. "One day the lady'l call my name. But- hic- but I plan on keeping her waiting." she says then.

She sits up suddenly, the table relaxes and then she says, suddenly loud, "That's why gotta get strong!" she says and then flexes her arms. "Stronger. So I can always come back 'ome." she says.

Aryia raises her gaze to Thurid, her having to sit upright so the tilted table would make her slide her drunken self off the side. "... love..." she motions slowly, crossing her arms over her chest like she was hugging herself. Almost detached, like she had never considered it before. "... is that what that is? That's a... strong word. I don't... I don't know yet..." Seems as if the mute herself had some inner struggles to work out.

The pugilist's attention snaps back as Thurid briskly moves. She blinks, then breaks into an odd sounding laughter. "Ha..! Haaaa...! Ha...!" breathy guffaws come from her, Aryia holding her gut. She smacks at one of the bulging biceps. "You're plenty strong, Thurid! I've been hit by that fucking hammer, it hurts!" <Handspeech>

Thurid ahs and nods her head a bit, "Well. There are many kinds of love." she says then, her expression softening, though her smile remains, warm. She unflexes one of the arms to pat Aryia on the shoulder. "If it's someone who occupies your thoughts, you want to spend time with- its love, of one sort or another." she insists. "I for one, love all my friends, and I'm not afraid to admit it." she says, beaming again.

She laughs at Aryia, "Stronger, stronger! There's always room to grow stronger." she insists wit a self assured nod of her head.

The fresh round of drinks arrive, and Thurid takes hers from the waitress gratefully, taking a swig of it before setitng it down.

Aryia bobs her head in a small nod as she's pat. "I know, I know I just... when you never been given love for the longest time, and all you have is yourself to love, it's hard to give any love. I'm afraid to lose it. And now I have so much from so many people it's... hard to give it back. Like... getting a starving man to share his bounty of food," she tries to explain with small motions. Though, a little smile does play at her lips. "... thank you. That's kind of you."

Another drink and a more firm smile, she gives a thankful nod towards the server and sips in time with Thurid. "Stronger indeed. I've been honing myself. Doing things I'd have never thought possible before. Shit, if I get this one thing down I'll... I'll be doing what I had only saw others way beyond me doing." <Handspeech>

Thurid watches Aryia's hands as she speaks about it, and nods her head understandingly. "You've a lot more love than you think you do, I'd wager." she says to her, offering her a warm smile. "You'll get used to it, in time." she adds. "You've come along a lot since we first met. I said it before, and I'll keep saying it 'till you believe it as well." she insists.

She settles back as Aryia goes on about her progress. "Well, that's the trick. Nothing's beyond you, not really. You've just not reached it yet." she adds. Relentlessly positive, even when six pints into a night out.

Six pints in makes for a lovely cocktail of flip flopping emotions. She's still with her hands as the warm words, shimmering eyes unfocused on the wood of the table in front of her. She sniffles, and wipes at her eyes before anything could build and fall. A calloused hand rests on Thurid's arm, and the mute mouths a sincere, "Thank you."

A steady breath to pull herself together, and she sits upright. Head swimming by now, she just softly chuckles as she looks into her amber drink. "... shit, Thurid, you're so fucking nice all the time. It's hard to be sad around you." <Handspeech>

Thurid's soft smile persists even as one of her own, substantially larger but equally calloused hand comes to pat the one resting on her arm, and she dips her head accepting Aryia's thanks equally wordlessly.

"Good. Good! This is no time to be sad, after all." she insists. "We're celebrating, remember!?" and to drive the point home she lifts her mug and takes a couple of big glugs of the drink within, gasping a breath afterwards and setting it down with a thud on the table.

Aryia huffs in a breathy laugh, her raising her own mug as well. She nods wholeheartedly with a smile, and downs a few chugs as well. Cup hits the table, and the elf gives out a long sigh. Very sloshed. A seventh would surely knock the shadow elf out and introduce her to the non-elf world of sleep.

Gathering her thoughts, and herself, she broaches a very, very dangerous topic for the nonbeliever. "So... I normally would never ask about this, because, uh, I hold no faiths. But..."

The elf lulls her head back and closes her eyes. One hand holding her cup in her lap. The other her voice. "... explain to me more about Angoron. And why he's probably the least bullshit out of all of them." <Handspeech>

Thurid reaces for the tray of snacks, missing on her first attempt, but snagging one on the second and popping it into her mouth to much on while Aryia begins, raising her eyebrows quizically at her. Of course when the actual question comes, Thurids eyes brighten once more, and she leans forwards. "Well! Angron's the strongest of the gods, for one. And sure, I mean he's muscular an' huge, so he's strong like that. But that's not all there is to it!. He's strong in so many other ways an' all. Did you know, Angoron lends strength to women in childbirth?" she wonders of Aryia. But thurid is already winding up to continue before the Mul'niessa has a chance to answer yae or nay.

It seems like this particular conversation could take a while.

-End Scene-