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Caritas - Friday evening [Open]

When Jolee actually walked in on a Friday night, Tino pretended to be STUNNED. He had made up a list of possible reasons why the boss hadn't been around recently on Fridays. It started with "jailbait," went on to "drug night," and finally finished with "He wants me to be happy on Friday nights."

"Were you happy when Loki was in here a couple weeks ago?" Jolee asked.

Tino shut up.

[OOC: Hey, I'm actually around and stuff today. Weird.]

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I’ve worked so long
Every night and every day
Been through hours and hours of research
And dozens of graves

The perfect girl
Turns out, was just too hard to find
So I had to make her
But can I make her mine?

Encouraging a class to fight spiders and ahnkegs and chicken-obsessed sorcerers could only do so much for a man in need of declassing himself. He need boozeFetch me a mug of moderately strong ale," Minsc declared, "and some water for my hamster!"

"How did I know you were going to say that?" Jolee asked. He had already started pouring the ale as soon as Minsc walked in, while Tino handled the water.

"Lucky guess?" Minsc offered. "Or maybe psychic powers?"

"Could be either of those," Jolee said as the drinks were placed on the bar. The actual answer was that Jolee could remember every other time he served Minsc. "How are you tonight?"

"I have appeared to avoid incriminating someone to me today so far!" Minsc declared proudly. "So very well! And yourself, barkeep?"

"My complaints are limited to the typical whining of a man in an aging body," Jolee said. "So, better than I will be tomorrow, not as good as I was thirty years ago. Also, with less hair than I had then."

"Psh!" That earned a big scoff from Minsc and a merry rubbing of his own bald pate. "Hair is overrated!"

"Is yours gone by choice or by nature?" Jolee asked.

"Nature!" Minsc said, proudly. "All for the best! It means my warrior's mark is right out there, front and center."

"The only warrior's mark I have is wrinkles," Jolee said. "Not that I mind that. Don't even think of giving me a tattoo."

Minsc grinned a little. "Ah!" he cried, remorsefully, with a grand gesture toward the barkeep's head. "But you'd such an open canvas for one!"

"If I wanted one, I could have gotten it years ago from giant hairballs," Jolee said. "I'll pass."

"Giant hairballs?"

There was a pause.

"Like the ones Boo hacks up on occasion?"

"Slightly larger, I imagine," Jolee asked. "And more likely to talk, even if you didn't know the language."

"Sentient hairballs," Minsc mused, rolling it over with a clearly thoughtful expression on his face, as if he couldn't decide if it was brilliant or terrifying.

"Quite friendly, too, if you don't mind the occasional threat of having your arms pulled off," Jolee said. "I think they were talking about my arms, at least..."

Minsc chuckled a little. "What's life without a few threats at dismemberment, anyway?"

"Much safer, I'd imagine," Jolee said.

"So more boring, is what you are saying?"

"I'm old. I'm perfectly happy with boring," Jolee said.

"So long as you've had plenty of not boring when you were young."

"I've had more than enough not boring in my life," Jolee admitted. "I had enough of it that the boring I'm trying to enjoy now is a relief."

Minsc took a moment, sizing up the barkeep and comparing his approximate years to his own, and his frown deepened the more he thought.

"Does it....take a while to get to that point?" he asked. "Because...I'm supposed to, but I can't stand it. Yet?"

"I know people older than me who STILL haven't gotten to that point," Jolee said. "I suppose it all depends on the person and exactly how boring their life wasn't in the past."

"Retirement," Minsc decided, slightly sulking, "is just too much work."

"Boo does not favor ale?" Ghanima asked, smiling at the warrior. "How very responsible of him. I can't imagine he holds his liquor well."

"Oh, no," said Minsc, chuckling a little nervously, because he had been doing well, but was feeling very much that once women were introduced into the picture... "He favours it very well, which is exactly why he is not to have any. You wouldn't like him when he drinks."

"I bet he gets into everything," she laughed, lifting up her own drink in a salute. "Well then, I suppose I'll have to drink his share, to keep him from lapsing into bad habits."

Minsc couldn't help chuckling a little, encouraged by Lady Ghanima's own laugh, and he lifted his mug, too. "Such a noble sacrifice; yours is a truly magnanimous soul, Lady Ghanima."

"When it comes to good ale, I can usually be encouraged to make the sacrifice," Ghanima replied, a mildly-exaggerated look of innocence upon her features. "While it's not quite as good like they make it at home, it comes close enough."

"You are lucky, then," Minsc said with a laugh, and another sip of his ale, "the stuff back home is horsepiss compared to this!"

And then he took a longer swig, realizing that he was back on the path of breaking every rule in that Tempus damned article.

That was slightly stronger language than Ghanima was used to hearing from Sir Minsc, but she just attributed it to a long day with a mental shrug.

"I'm just a bit homesick, I think," she mused, "and it's making the ale better in my mind than it is in actuality."

"I haven't been back in months, and all this cloudy cold makes me antsy. I want the open bled of the desert, or at least some sunshine. Anything other than this blasted gray."

"Soon enough," Minsc assured her. "At least, if the seasons pass here the same way they do in Faerûn, it will be. But I think homesickness is a common feeling, to be sure."

"What seasons do you have?" Ghanima asked, intrigued. "We only really have two, on Dune. Four still throws me off."

"Four in most parts," Minsc said with a grin. "Not all. Icewind Dale is a neverending winter and my own Rashemen tends to be very harsh and warm with little change except in the short rainy season. But Faerûn is a very diverse world, and the place where I spent most of my adventuring, the Sword Coast is very similar to this coast here."

After the day Ghanima had just had, she rather desperately needed a drink.

"The strongest ale you have, please," she sighed, taking a seat.

"Tino? Could you help the lady out?" Jolee asked his bartender. Turning back to Ghanima, he explained, "He knows what our strongest drinks are better than I do."

"I've been here over a year, and I still have no idea what half the drinks are," Ghanima confessed. "Sometimes I think they multiply and make new drink combination the moment our backs are turned."

"I don't think you can blame the drinks for that. I blame Tino, personally," Jolee said as the bartender in question brought over the strongest ale he could find. "At least that way he's still being productive when he has too much time on his hands."

Will she be friendly?
Or will she break free?
Will she terrorize the villagers?
Will she notice me?

Hard work and science
Are what I have to give
And all I’m asking in return
Is that you live

Paul and Storm, yo. (http://www.paulandstorm.com/lyrics/live/)

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Caritas - Friday evening [Open]

The Stage [03/27]

The Bar [03/27]

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The Lounge [03/27]

The Back Room [03/27]

OOC [03/27]