Caritas, Friday Evening

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord stepped behind the bar today, looking... not cranky. Exasperated.

He was exasperated.

There had been an... incident... earlier... that had resulted in a bit of a shock. Because sudden magically-appearing tree boughs covered in electric lights didn't mix well with saltwater.

He wasn't talking about it.

He was starting his shift here tonight with a shot of whiskey, though. Just the one. Why couldn't Fandom have a nice, normal winter holiday, like Winter's Crest, anyway?

[OOC: Open! And that is it for my Friday spam, I swear it.]

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[1000yearstoolate]

Seivarden entered Caritas early, ending up leaning against the bar opposite Fjord.

"Have you noticed anything weird going on today?" she asked. "Or is this thing over? I thought it'd last until that holiday."

She made a gesture with her hand.

"Never mind. I'll have a whisky."

And for now ignore Wednesday.

[built_fjord_tough]

Fortunately, Fjord already had the whiskey on hand. He poured a glass for Seivarden, slid it across the bar toward her, and then shrugged.

"There's some strangeness going on," he replied, "but nothing that would affect you. Best to not worry about it."

No. Really. He didn't want to talk about it.

[1000yearstoolate]

"I'm not going to complain about it not affecting me," Seivarden said, watching Fjord's hands as he poured the drink, the corner of her mouth twitching a little. "What's going on?"

[built_fjord_tough]

"Weapons turning into branches," Fjord explained, reaching for his own glass. "With lights on them. But not until you actually use them."

It was like a trap. An especially inconvenient trap when your weapon of choice had a tendency to splash water around.

[1000yearstoolate]

"Oh. Well, at least it will be over by tomorrow."

Seivarden sipped her drink.

"But I suppose it must be annoying if you like swords."

This was Seivarden being understanding.

[special_rabbit]

"'Evening, Fjord," said Amaya, as she took a spot at the bar and nodded with her greeting, all done with a marked stiffness rather uncharacteristic of her usual demeanor. In fact, there was a cold fire simmering in those bright blue eyes of hers, volatile, ready to burst, a good match for the particular set of her firm jaw.

Amaya looked, quite frankly, absolutely fit to be tied and like she had an awful lot going on in that head of hers that needed to be washed away with a good strong drink or two.

[built_fjord_tough]

"Evening, Amaya," Fjord greeted, taking a moment to make note of that stiffness, to frown a little thoughtfully, and then venture, "rough day?"

He could guess.

[special_rabbit]

And that, it would seem, was all she needed to go off.

"Three times!" she exploded, throwing her useless hands up. "Three times in the last month! I know this place gets it into its head to be all quirky and cute, 'specially this time of year, but is it really too much to ask for it to just leave the weapons alone? Now, I know it'll go back to normal tomorrow, or at least it had better, but you tell me, how am I going to get a whole day's worth of work back? Or more, actually, because that's two days now this month, and a whole weekend in November, so as far as I'm concerned, this island owes me nearly a week's worth of my hard-earned time."

Yes, Amaya had problems when it came to feelings. Unless, apparently, that feeling was indignation.

"I mean, just look at this."

And that would be Amaya's beloved and well-worn hammer thunking down on the bar, because of course she brought it with her, and she narrowed her eyes at it with a sneer before nodding to Fjord.

"Go on, pick it up. Try to strike something with it."

But she knew very well how that would end up, as it had all day, with the end of it turning into a tree branch all decked out in pretty twinkling lights, she just forged forward, because once the gate was open, it was hard to push it back into place. "And that's not even a weapon, it's a tool. I mean, sure, I know the exact amount of force needed and the precise place to hit on a kneecap or a skull to make it work for me if I need to, but does intention mean nothing around this place? What about context? Why, by this logic, these," and she held up her fists, tightly balled, "should turn into branches right now, but they're not, and it makes no sense," because she hadn't quite figured that the logic of the island tended to run very closely to whatever was more amusing than anything else in these matters, "and that's the kind of nonsense I can't stand for, Fjord, the kind that effects me and my business."

At least the mistletoe could be taken care of. She'd yet to figure out a solution to a Christmas tree hammer, not one that wasn't just time, and who had patience for that, anyway?

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord already knew what was coming. After all, there had been the whole pact weapon incident. But he reached for the hammer and gave it a thump against the counter anyway, the branches smacking down against the bar, will-lit.

He sighed.

"I don't suppose there's anything I can do to help you make up for the lost time?" He handed the hammer back to her as it shifted back to being a hammer in his hand. "There does seem to have been a lot of trouble affecting your work in particular, lately."

[special_rabbit]

Although she knew it was only going to make her sad and upset all over again, Amaya may have tried, with unfounded hope, to knock her hammer against the side of the bar again as she took it back, resulting in a truly miserable sounding sigh as it just gave her the swish of branches, the aroma of pine, and a tinkling of lights in response, and she tucked the tool back into her belt before her shoulders slouched forward.

"I suppose you can start by getting me a drink," she noted. "I trust that hasn't suffered any unexpected consequences to this latest branch," oh, zards, even puns hurt her soul right now, but she was glad she tried it, "of festiveness. You know what's funny, though? Last year, I don't think I barely even noticed any of this, and now?" She threw up her useless hands again. "Maybe it's because I'm actually doing work that's important now, work I care about. And I guess I shouldn't complain too much, this place has been pretty good to me, overall, but sometimes? Enough is enough."

[mages_suck]

"First," Fenris growled as he walked through the door, "it becomes a stick of candy. Now, it's become a lighted tree branch."

The sword on his back looked nothing like a lighted tree branch. It was sitting innocently in its sheath, looking like a large sword at the moment.

"What is going on and why must it mess with my weapon?!" he continued, plunking his skinny elf ass down on one of the bar stools. "If ever I needed a beer.."

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord was already reaching for a beer, passing it over to him with a slightly sore hand.

"I understand," he replied, not without sympathy. "Believe me."

The holiday cheer had gotten into his weapon again and he hated it.

[mages_suck]

Fenris took the beer and huddled around it like it was the only thing that made sense in a mad-driven world.

"I hate this holiday and everything that goes into it," he declared, "Except maybe the drink the bears were handing out. And the candy rain. The lights are also kind of pretty. But everything else is awful."

His sword, Fjord.

[built_fjord_tough]

"Now, the lights can stay," Fjord decided. "And I'll even accept more marzipan. But if this holiday keeps messing with people's weapons, it's only a matter of time before somebody snaps."

[mages_suck]

"Both of yours?" Fenris asked.

He'd noticed the wet spot on the carpet. He wasn't going to comment on it right now.

Fenris took a healthy drink of beer and glowered, "What do they expect us to do if something attacks? Hit it with our fists? I'm not opposed but what happens then? Do my hands turn into lighted pine?"

[whatdattonguedotho]

Eddie was having a less?? bad day than him? But only because it had just been a butter knife that had turned into a tiny, tiny tree after he was apparently too aggressive with buttering his toast this morning.

"Can I get a beer?" One that wouldn't be Christmas themed at all. Hopefully.

[built_fjord_tough]

"Sure can," Fjord replied, giving Eddie a nod in greeting. "Any preference, or just whatever falls to hand tonight?"

[whatdattonguedotho]

"The least Christmas thing you can find maybe?"

In the back of his head, Venom made a sad sound. Which was probably still a terrifying noise to literally anyone other than Eddie, but he was a sucker.

He sighed and added, "And a chocolate peppermint martini."

[built_fjord_tough]

"Least Christmas thing and... most Christmas thing. Got it," Fjord replied, looking faintly amused, reaching for a bottle of beer, popping the lid with his claws, and sliding it Eddie's way before starting on the martini. "Little contradictory, but hey, I'm not paid to judge."

[whatdattonguedotho]

"It's a thing," Eddie said weakly, drinking his beer to the displeasure of his body buddy. Who was still in the dog house after the whole kid thing.

[notallbluemonks]

Beau came slouching in fairly late in the evening, a disgruntled expression on her face and a very festive, blinking-lights-adorned pine bough slung across her back.

"I'm over this holiday, Fjord. I need a damn drink."

The lights were making a somewhat disturbing contrast with her cranky expression.

[built_fjord_tough]

"Good day for damn drinks," Fjord agreed, reaching for a beer and sliding it her way. If she wanted something else, she could tell him what she was ordering. Presumably that was how bars worked, right? "Mine at least turned back after a while."

He nodded toward her staff.

"At least you've got a good light source for the stumble home later."

[notallbluemonks]

Sure, Fjord. Sure. Get an early start on rubbing in that whole 'human with no darkvision' thing.

Beau made a face at him that was 70% grimace and 30% smirk. "Yeah, I planned it that way when I decided to ruin my own training session. Pretty cool, right?"

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord gave her a chuckle, and then held out his hand, slightly blistered, for inspection.

"The lights still have an electrical current," he offered. "I don't suggest getting them wet."

He felt your pain, Beau.

[notallbluemonks]

"Huh." Beau was still making that face as she inspected his hand, nodding. "Yeah, lightning's kind of a bitch that way. Not to sound dramatic about it but I feel really betrayed by my own weapons right now ... aww man, if I try to punch things am I gonna end up with like tree hands?"