Down by the Docks

It's Ceriday, Bernfleur 26 23:34:27 1016. The full moon is up. The tide is low and rising.

The deep blue night sky is clear and cloudless, and the stars glitter. A brisk breeze blows from the northwest.

It's one of those nights out in the warehouse district. Most of the workers are going home and so is a certain red haired dwarf. 'HEY Truehammer! What happened to your log tosser!?' "MASTAPAULT YA JERK! And it exploded, like it was designed to!" 'Why would you have it explode!?' "Ter keep people like you from getting killed by a steaming log in their backside!" A general guffaw can be heard as the dwarf glugs down some more mead, stumping his way out of the district....or headed that way.

<Meet> You offer to meet Constantin.

Constantin has arrived.

<Meet> Constantin joins you.

It's one of those nights out in the warehouse district. Most of the workers are going home and so is a certain red haired dwarf. 'HEY Truehammer! What happened to your log tosser!?' "MASTAPAULT YA JERK! And it exploded, like it was designed to!" 'Why would you have it explode!?' "Ter keep people like you from getting killed by a steaming log in their backside!" A general guffaw can be heard as the dwarf glugs down some more mead, stumping his way out of the district....or headed that way.

The night sky sparkles like miniature diamonds in a way that would inspire poets. The grimey grimness of the Warehouse District does not. It is its own version of slime and mildew, of ship tar and sodden bodies. ...and yelling khazad. Underneath the masterful beauty and beneath the sodden grime, a red-headed shrub scurries through. ...and stops just short of the yelling khazad.

Blinks a few times.

"Nice hair," says the gobber. Then makes a few notes.

It's the warehouse district, there's going to be yelling. Constantin looks over anyways, wrapping himself in his pretty cloak as he does so. "Nice hair," he echoes.

Argos finishes drinking....and belches in the gobber's and human's general direction. "It's a beard ya rotten sots." Yup, he's definitely loud all right. "Ain't you two ever seen a Khazad before? Or ya too busy looking up rather than down?" he then blinks at Coppervolt. "Yer in the wrong parta town, girlie. Explosions happen in the Sage Orum's plaza."

"Yes," agrees the gobber to the flower-cloaked man. She makes a few notes into a small notebook. Small because of the size, but large otherwise and packed with files and papers, and its spine decorated with tiny hearts. "I've done some observations of the color, but none definitive. There is more /lore/ than..." she breaks off here and then looks up at them both. ...as one might study a foreign object, a pair of sticks who began speaking to you, or an elephant growing wings and... "Excuse me, I'm supposed to introduce myself. At least, that's what the books said. It's polite to do so. ...although I'm not sure now that's a good idea." She says the last to Constantin, but seems to indicate the poor khazad. "You're a stranger, resemble an artificer, and your breath smells like a Veyshan monkey's fecal-generating extremity." A pause. "I think that was rude. Excuse me. I was trying to be descriptive. Let me make a note of not to say that phrase in the future." *scribble scribble scri--*

Constantin strokes his own bear, grinning. "Oh, honey, I'm never too busy to look." He pauses and asides to Coppervolt. "Not after that description."

Argos stares at the gobber, then laughs out loud right in front of her. "You first, snotball." He says with a chuckle. "You offered the introduction first."

"There are four main varieties of monkeys used in Veyshan. There is one which is bald," Coppervolt says academically. She appears to have no notion that the words might be insulting. Instead, she makes another note. "One of them is known for throwing its matters, though I suppose a thunderbelcher would be a more expedient--" Stop.

Blink.

"That was rude again, wasn't it?" ...she makes another note in the heart-scribbled notebook. And then because science MUST know, "...do you really use your firearm for that purpose?"

"...was that rude?" to Constantin.

Constantin confirms with a nod. "Yes, that was decidedly rude. Do you hate yourself?"

Argos says, "If you tell me your name.....I might tell you, Goober." yes....that was goober, not gobber."

"I think you're right. I weighted it against knowing, and decided that knowing was more interesting. ...and no, I don't think so. I suppose with my race that could be an honest question," the smallish gobber says. Her hair bobs slightly as she speaks and the pen stays poised over paper for just a moment. "Why do you ask?" Then, to the khazad, "I think I will tell you that, but only after we are both very, very drunk."

Constantin shrugs a little. "Well, provoking someone who can floss with your forearms is usually a sign of more deep-seated issues."

Argos holds out his tankard to Coppervolt. "Then drink up! We must get you properly sloshed!" He then looks up to COnstantin. "She doesn't want me ter shoot 'er. Otherwise she'd have to come up with more clever insults than that."

A pause with the pen over the paper again, and another note. "He infers correctly. I merely lack basic social skills." Coppervolt closes the book and then examines the outstretched hand. Reaches up, and--"I think if I shake we're supposed to agree on something. Are we agreeing to get drunk?"

(New BB message (7/42) posted to 'IC: Rumors and Gossip' by Whirlpool: Not Secret Enough)

Argos says, "Actually, little one, I'd rather introduce myself and get your name. I'm Argos Truehammer, Artificer. You guessed right." he says with a chuckles. 'SO what's yer name, missy?""

The smallish gobber reaches up, and grasps the khazad's giant mitt for a handclasp. Her ears wobble with the force of the gesture, and a smile lights up end to end. "Thank you. I'm pleased to get sloshed with you, Argos Truehammer. ...in the interests of honesty..." she drops her hand from the clasp, and looks up earnestly. "...this is part of an experiment. And my name is Coppervolt Wiretrapper. I'm part of the new arcane department of controlled explosions. It's a relatively new field."

Constantin pauses. "I think this is where you guys kiss, make up and talk in language I will never understand."

Argos blinks. "Coppervolt. Controlled explosions? Sounds more like artificery than anything else." He then looks to Constantin and punches him. it's not hard. "Shut yer mouth." He then shoves his takard into Coppervolt's hands. "Take a swig, Coppervolt. To new friendships!"

Constantin looks down at Argos, snorting. "See what I mean?"

"...to new friendships," replies the gobber, uncertainly. She sounds as one taking notes on an experiment, watching it burble and blip, and bloop and turn green before boiling over...something truly strange and unique. When the tankard is shoved into her hands, the expression shatters. The tankard's nearly s large as an adult gobber. Which, well, this one is.

Constantin says, helpfully, "Lift with your legs, not your back."

Argos waits for Coppervolt to try. "If you want to make it easier, Coppervolt....soak yer 'ead in it."

The gobber looks down at the giant...okay. She sets it down, because the damn thing is huge, and what's a mittful for a khazad is... "It is very important it is grog," she says, precisely. She looks up at Argos, "You see, last week I was able to drink two mugs. I want to see if this week, I can do three. If we could go where there is lots of grog and get sloshed, it would be very scientific."

The looks over at Constantin then, and appears to take mental note of that. "Perhaps I could apply a lever."

Constantin pauses. "Sure, if you can stand the probability of loss."

Argos says, "it is not grog. it is mead. Take a taste and see if you like it Coppervolt. If you don't, you don't have to drink it again. The ultimate experiment!""

A pause. Then, "I will try it, but then we must go and get grog. This is a.../religious/ experiment. Involving getting sloshed," says Coppervolt, evidently having trouble with the word, as some gobbers might. "So the grog becomes important, quite integral, you see."

Constantin has disconnected.

Argos nods to Coppervolt. "Next time, we will try grog. Your treat, Coppervolt." he then waves. "Until then, Goober." he says stumping his way into the night.

Coppervolt goes OOC.