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Caritas, Friday Evening

One of these days, Fjord was really going to have to learn his lesson about drinking the night before he had a shift to work. It wasn't like he even worked much around here. He had weekends off, he hadn't had a class to teach for nearly two weeks now, why in the world had he thought it was a good idea to go drinking with Seivarden last night instead of, say, tomorrow?

That negative wisdom modifier strikes again, clearly.

So he was taking it pretty easy at the bar tonight, the last dregs of a hangover still clinging stubbornly around the insides of his skull like gauzy spiderwebs, and while he was pouring alcohol for anybody who wanted it, he was absolutely sticking to water for himself tonight, while Tino judged him not-so-silently and the zombies smashed and crashed away on their instruments, attempting to do a set of Dolly Parton cover songs that Fjord might have appreciated a little bit better under any other circumstance.

[OOC: Open!]

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Unsurprisingly, Seivarden also had a hangover.

"Something sweet and non-alcoholic."

She slipped on to one of the bar stools.

"Perhaps that last drink yesterday was one too much."

"Might've been," Fjord agreed, pausing for a moment to rummage through the juice selection before giving up and just prying the cap off a bottle of Coke for her. "We weren't exactly taking it easy, there."

Hello, Seivarden. Fjord was doing an impressive job of not being awkward!

"No," Seivarden said. "Anyway, glad you wanted to join me."

She leaned a little against the bar.

"Radio got things wrong though, if that bothers you. Of course, they got a lot of things wrong."

"Radio?" Fjord looked faintly puzzled as he passed the bottle her way. "What did radio get wrong?"

He... didn't have one. This was possibly for the best.

Seivarden pulled her phone out of her pocked and turned on the radio broadcast, starting with Fenris and his hat.

"I just wanted to mention it," she said afterwards, "in case someone brings it up. I would never claim it was a date."

If anybody needed Fjord to form a functional thought in the next two or three minutes... well, good luck.

He was just kind of staring at the phone, mouth agape.

"Wh-what."

"Yeah," Seivarden said. "I just wanted you to know."

She actually felt a little sorry for Fjord. "Look, I get now that that isn't what you're looking for, and I know I was a little forward yesterday, but I won't bring it up again, ok? And all the other stuff, those kids are really annoying, so just ignore them."

"I. Uh." Yeah, scraping together brain for this conversation was a slow process. "I appreciate that. And you letting me know about the, uh." He squinted a little. "Radio."

He clearly needed to get one of those things. Or figure out how to access those things on his phone.

"I hope you don't take it too seriously. Those squirrels come up with all sorts of lies, and it might just have been the kids."

Seivarden shrugged a little and put her phone back in her pocket.

"They probably just like making u some drama."

"Nothing makes a news story like a little bit of drama," Fjord sighed. "And those kids do have fairly active imaginations, at that."

"Anyway," she said. "I enjoyed last night, although I really am too old for that last drink. And people commenting about the gloves..."

She shook her head.

"At least I didn't ruin them."

"You didn't ruin them," Fjord agreed. "Though they might have been a little too fancy for drinks that cheap."

In a purely, 'you don't want to spill that shit on those' kind of way.

"True," Seivarden agreed. "But they're nice. I still don't know who gave them to me. Someone with good taste."

"Huh. A mystery gifter, hm? That sort of thing seems to be going around this time of year."

Fjord was thankful it had stopped, honestly.

"Someone gave me fake tea too," Seivarden said. "I prefer the gloves. What did you get?"

Fjord paused for a moment, and then lifted one shoulder faintly.

"As far as I can tell, explosive chemicals."

He hadn't gone poking at it yet. For obvious reasons.

Seivarden paused, looking at Fjord. "Isn't that some kind of insult?"

"I don't think it's insulting, depending on who gave it," Fjord replied, surprisingly graciously. "I do think it's confusing."

He'd save the chemistry kit until he met somebody who could appreciate it properly.

Maybe a goblin or something...

"What if it had exploded in your face when you opened it? Or did it come with some kind of recipe?"

Seivarden would actually be upset if that happened.

"There were instructions in the set," Fjord replied. "For the most part. And the chemicals were rather secure. I have it set up and out of the way so that it doesn't get accidentally jostled around, at least."

Because he kind of needed his face.

"Well. Good."

She still didn't think it was an appropriate gift.

"Never know," Fjord mused, "maybe the next time we're attacked by snowmen, it'll come in handy."

"I suppose," Seivarden said. "Depending on how good explosives they are."

She frowned a little.

"You have explosives in your universe?"

Fjord exhaled in a soft huff of noise, something wry and a little bit bitter, if you squinted enough to see.

"Oh yes," he assured her, "we most certainly do."

And The Tide's Breath was sitting at the bottom of the ocean thanks to that fact.

"I just didn't want to assume," Seivarden said. "So are you used to handling them?"

"Not particularly," Fjord replied, shaking his head. "That was the job of somebody with a far more specialized skill set than myself."

"That's usually safer, isn't it," Seivarden said, trying to make the most of one of the few similarities between their universes.

"Anyway."

Seivarden glanced at Fjord's hands, realizing that from now on she wasn't just going to find them disturbingly attractive, she would also remember making drunken compliments about them.

And Fjord was going to just... drink his water. While trying not to think of those drunken compliments.

"Anyway," he agreed.

Seivarden drank from her bottle of coke, also trying not to think of them.

"Definitely one whiskey too many," she said with a frown.

"Lessons learned," Fjord replied. He took a long pull from his water glass. It was maddenly not alcoholic enough, funny that. "Maybe a few more beers and a bit less whiskey in the future."

And since it was Friday, there was an Amaya in the bar. And since it was Amaya, she was of course completely oblivious to the swatch of grease on her cheek that made it pretty clear she'd likely just stopped working, which would also likely explain her coming in a bit later than usual, as well as the big grin on her face.

"'Evening, Fjord!" she greeted as sat down at the bar, nodded. "Hope you've got something good on tap tonight, because tonight calls for celebrating!"

"Does it now?" Fjord gave her a thoughtful once over, and then chuckled a little. "Make some real progress back at the forge, did you?"

Call it a wild guess.

"You could say that!" Amaya smirked. "You could also say that the Crumbler is back in business"--not that she ever really got much business to begin with, but that wasn't the point--"and better than ever! And just in time, too, what with the new semester about to start. Took me long enough, but she's looking mighty shiny now, it was worth the extra work, I think. Should I tell you what I upgraded now, or you want to wait to see her in action later?"

"I think the suspense might just kill me," Fjord chuckled, reaching for a glass and pouring Amaya one of the better ales that they had to offer. "Tell me know so that I can prepare myself to be awed on Wednesday?"

"Well," said Amaya, after thinking a moment of the best way to explain that wasn't just throwing an insult at Tino, ordering him to do his job for once, and marching Fjord right out the door to head to the forge, because, really, actions spoke so much louder and efficiently than words, but there was also a well-earned ale there that she'd been looking forward to all day, "it would have been a shame, doing all that work, and just leaving her open to the same problem again sometime in the future, right? Got to learn from experience, so I've gone and made her....snowman-proof."

How?, you may wonder? Well, she'd get to that. Probably. She was either building tension or trying to decide if she should insist on that being seen and not heard of.

...nah, it was the definitely the latter. It was a tough decision, really, because she was pretty eager about the whole thing, too.

"Snowman-proof," Fjord replied, blinking, his interest definitely caught. "And how did you do that, dare I ask?"

He was expecting a large number of spikes in this answer, yes.

Well, then! Excellent guess as that may be, you might want to prepare yourself to be pleasantly surprised and sufficiently amazed, Fjord.

"Flamethrowers!" Amaya said, leaning forward with her eyes lighting up as brightly as the very things she was speaking of. Her fingers pointed forward. "Two in front." Her thumbs hitched toward her shoulders. "Two in back." And then they hitched to the side. "Two on each side, but those ones are smaller, because, really, you don't want to go overboard or anything.

"Now that I mention it," she added, thoughtfully tilting her head, "that's also going to be pretty handy for the next big snow dump, too."

Edited 2018-12-28 20:26 (UTC)

"Nothing takes out snow," or eyebrows, "quite like large amounts of fire," Fjord agreed, chuckling and... pouring himself a drink. Yes. "I'm sure you'll probably even find other creative uses for those, right?"

Eh, eyebrows grew back, didn't they? Usually?

"Always do," Amaya admitted with a shrug, lifting her drink in a toast, seeing as Fjord was joining in. "There's a lot to be said about a fine piece of equipment that does one job and does it well," weed whackers, for example, "but there's even more to be said about something that does it all. Life's too short not to multitask."

"I'll drink to that," Fjord decided, raising his glass and tapping it against hers. Because, hell, why not, right? "I can't wait to see her in action, Amaya. Sounds like you put a lot of thought into this particular upgrade."

Yes. Thought.

Sure. That was a word for it.

Glasses clinked, Amaya took that much deserve deep swig, surfacing again with a sigh of approval and wiping the foam from her lip with the back of her hand. She nodded an approval for Fjord's choice of ale, as well.

"Can't even be made it took the better part of a week, either," she said. "It was a good distraction, even if it's a shame it needed to be done at all. But I realize my jobs have run up finally; hopefully, there's some new opportunity when the new batch floods in tomorrow. You teaching again, Fjord?"

"Matter of fact, I am," Fjord replied. "Thinking of putting the students through their paces a little. Throwing them at different situations, seeing how they sort out solutions while also pretending to be somebody else. And you? You seem to have quite the thing going over at the school there."

"Yeah, I'll be doing my shop class again," Amaya confirmed, nodding firmly. "I like consistency, sticking to what works, maybe I'll switch it up a little for the summers with something more focused on weapons. So as long as the kids keep signing up for it, I'll probably keep on teaching it."

"Seems like a good way to go about things," Fjord mused. "I figure that might be my approach, too. I have no idea what it is they figure they can learn from me, but so long as they're signing up for my lessons, I might as well continue to teach it."

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Caritas, Friday Evening

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