fandomtownies | Caritas, Friday Evening

"Hey, dude," said Beau, who was absolutely going to try to perch on the bar itself instead of one of the barstools. "What weird shit is happening in here tonight? Kinda smells good, at least."

Was Fjord going to try to stop Beau from getting up on the bar? Nah.

Tino might. But screw Tino, right?

"Weird shit," Fjord reported, picking up and empty glass, and then setting down a glass of veggie kebab beside her. "You want anything to drink tonight, it's gonna either have to be in a bottle, or we're gettin' chucklefuck over there to pour it."

There were a lot of things about today that Amaya was going to maybe regret a little in the morning, but stopping in at the bar after work was rarely one of those things.

Even if she'd feel it in her shoulders just by lifting up a mug.

"'Evening, Fjord," she grinned faintly as she offered the customary greeting, which she hoped worked well to cover up the fact that she was easing particularly carefully into that stool. "How's the day treating you this time around?"

Fjord smirked faintly, himself, though he wasn't about to call her on any aches she might be trying to hide.

Person needed some dignity, after all.

"So far, so good," he replied, "though I'm gonna have to get Tino to pour you your ale today, I'm afraid."

Because Fjord knew better than to try and stop Beau from doing the Super Gay Sit, that's why. And if Tino tried, it'd be worth a trip to the duck pond, frankly.

". . . bottle's fine," Beau decided, and flipped Tino off out of sheer habit. "What is this, a new power of yours?"

She picked the kebab out of the glass, inspected it, then shrugged and ate a mushroom.

"Huh. Not bad."

Of course, there wouldn't have been any aches if someone had just taken it easy like she was supposed to. And, to be fair, Amaya had intended to do just that, but...well, plans changed sometimes, wasn't anything you could do about it.

"Is that so?" Amaya's eyebrows climbed into her bangs a little bit as she passed a glanced over at Tino, offering him maybe a bit of a sweet smile to suggest a truce on the name calling, at least for the duration of the night if he'd be serving her. "And why's that? The bar deciding to prevent you from doing it somehow? Somehow...food related?"

Her eagerness was tampered only by the fact that her appetite wasn't quite what it used to be, lately, and there was a good chance this answer would just be filled with disappointment and sadness if it involved anything with meat.

She...might be able to stomach it, for the good and the spirit of the bar, but she was already feeling skeptical.

"Yeah, can't complain too much when the free food don't taste like shit," Fjord noted, "but somehow I doubt this one's gonna stick."

Uk'otoa had given him a few neat tricks, but 'create kebab' was not one of them.

"Somethin' somehow food related," Fjord agreed, and then, maybe a little apologetically, he picked up a glass and set it down in front of her on the bar. "Vegetarian, though."

You know. On a stick.

... In a glass.

But that would be such a neat flavor cantrip. Not terribly thematic, though.

"If I tip you extra, can you maybe make a few extras for me?" Beau wanted to know. "Like, to go?"

She ate a piece of green pepper and snickered. "Ha. Stick. I see what you did there."

"Hey, Amaya," Beau called from where she was literally sitting on the bar. "I put a few throwing stars in some vampires last week. Thought you might appreciate knowing, 'cause it was fuckin' siiiiiiiiick."

Which was her way of saying she was glad Amaya was better after that whole ordeal.

Fjord was totally gonna pretend he'd meant for that pun to happen, grinning at Beau, reaching for that glass again, and then just picking it up three more times.

By that point, it was kind of full.

"Ain't really a problem," he noted. "But you tell me when to stop, and I'll make as many of these things as you want."

"Oooooooh!" Amaya's eyes lit up and her stomach let out a little growl of agreement. "But it's on a stick!"

If it was meat on a stick, it would have been tragic. But the fact that they were vegetables almost made it feel like it was just destiny, like it was meant to be, and Amaya was just going to go ahead and eagerly help herself to plucking that kebab out of that glass and going in for the first one.

"This is much easier thant trying to put salad on a stick," she noted, while that zucchinni had barely even begun to be chewed.

She'd almost gotten there with a wedge salad, but the dressing just got everywhere and there was no where to really put the croutons.

"Well, I should think so if they were mine!" Amaya called back, because who needed inside voices? "Goes without saying, doesn't it? Good to know they're working out for you!"

And kind of poetic, really, in a way, that the stars she'd made would wind up helping to take down the things that got her.

"I dunno, maybe a dozen?" Beau shrugged, and she was totally down to help Fjord maintain the pretense that he'd made the pun on purpose. "A dozen's enough to be all, like, 'hey, so thanks for not kicking my whiny convalescent ass out all last week,' right?"

"Totally," Beau yelled back. Pfft, inside voices. "So, you know, I might need to put in another order soon to replace those."

"You... tried to put salad on a stick," Fjord echoed, bemused. "How'd that work out for you?"

She might've had better luck with a caprese.

"Dozen sounds like a decent number," Fjord agreed with a little grin. "Bringin' 'em home to somebody, are you?"

"I mean," Beau said, shrugging, "it's only fair, right? Like a trade-off."

Or she was just trying really hard to make it look pragmatic and rational instead of an actual thoughtful, nice act. Try fooling someone who didn't know you well enough, Beau.

She popped the rest of the vegetables on her kebab into her mouth one after the other before continuing, frowning slightly and still chewing on that last piece of zucchini, "Also, it was totally reasonable of me to assume that a good night's sleep was gonna be enough, right? I thought that was supposed to work."

Back home, maybe.

"... Good night's sleep didn't work?"

Yeah, that was getting a weird look from Fjord.

"The fuck, Beau. Fucker didn't get you that bad, did he?"

It wasn't like she had to regrow a foot or anything.

"No gaping wounds or anything," Beau replied, her expression echoing that 'the fuck.' "I dunno, man, it's weird."

Seriously. THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK.

Fjord gave a bemused shake of his head.

"Maybe they had some kind of... magic punching. Thing."

Or maybe welcome to Earth, guys.

"Well, vampires, I guess." Beau shrugged again.

No, just that 5e long rest rules literally make no sense in this world.

"That was fun though, right?"

"It was damn fun," Fjord agreed, "lingering injuries aside. We got to kill the shit outta vampires, what's not to love?"

Clearly these two idiots would've absolutely been the solution to the Briarwoods, right?

. . . you know what, considering how well that had gone for Keyleth and her friends it was a tossup, really.

"I mean," Beau said after a moment, "we could have stood to be a little more badass, but otherwise?"

It's okay, guys, your attack and proficiency bonuses will improve. Give it time.

"I'll work on my aim," Fjord mused.

Because almost taking Beau's head off had been... not his greatest moment, there.

To be fair, though, somehow managing to derail the campaign before it even started would be pretty on brand for the Mighty Nein.

"Might be a good idea, because otherwise you'd have to explain why you decapitated me to my girlfriend," Beau told him. "Nobody wants that."

"Yeah," Fjord drawled, because he hadn't decapitated her and so it was much easier to joke about these things, "that would've been a real awkward conversation."

And just because he could, he picked up another glass.

Poof, veggie kebab.

"Free bar food is the best kind of food," Beau declared, and didn't even bother to ask if she could have it before snagging it and eating a mushroom. "You sure this isn't a cool new power you have? 'cause I'm just saying, real useful."

"I'll tell you what," Fjord replied, "if I can still do it tomorrow, you'll be the first person I tell."

He shrugged.

"Maybe it's just a cool new power I have on Friday evenings, specifically while I'm workin' the bar. Seems to be happenin' a lot lately."

Though the last time, it had been when anybody set the glass down.

He still had so many cheeseburgers at home.

"I think this might be the island's way of telling me I should make more regular effort to come in here on Friday nights," Beau decided.

"Come drink, get fed. Sounds like you can't really go wrong with that," Fjord replied, smirking a little. "Anyway, I can't say I mind the company."

Even if she sat on the bar.

She had to distinguish herself somehow, okay?

"What is with you people thinking I'm good company?" Beau asked with a bemused huff of laughter. "I'm kind of -- I might have questions, you know?"

She was delighted about it really, but pfft, actually expressing that.

"You put up with my shit," Fjord pointed out. "Or call me on it. I'm not gonna complain about either."

Because sometimes Fjord needed a 'decent person' check.

And he kind of always needed to know that even if he fucked up, he wasn't unforgivable for it.

So it worked out.

"Not very well at all!" Amaya answered cheerfully. "But the important thing is...I tried!"

"That shouldn't be a problem!" shouted Amaya. "Still got some of that steel in the supply closet; I can get on 'em right away, if you like! How many more you think you'll need?"

"Now, I'll be really impressed if you figure out a way to weaponize those salads," Fjord teased.

"Oh, well, now, that's an easy one," said Amaya. "Just toss it all in the bucket of a catapult and let it rip. Preferred siege method of Hrothbart the Hefty of Tamir, as a matter of fact, on account of the fact that he couldn't stand the stuff and went into a rage whenever it was served. Needless to say, Hrothbart the Hefty is not known for his victories."

"... I... was actually not expecting you to have historical examples," Fjord admitted, blinking. "And yet now you've presented just that, and here I am, findin' myself mighty impressed."

He picked up a glass, and plucked the resulting kebab out of it, looking it over thoughtfully.

"What would you do with these things, then?"

"Suppose it doesn't really count if I just say 'stick 'em in the eye with it,' does it?" Amaya noted, before tilting her head and giving it a thoughtful look of her own. "Well, you could stick 'em all around each other on a central point and make a nice veggie mace out of 'em. Or, better yet, stick 'em around each other on a central point, as a vine and stick, and you've got yourself a veggie flail."

"Not gonna lie, now I kinda want to see a veggie flail at work," Fjord mused. And that musing could very well have slipped into another veggie pun war, but no, no, he refrained.

Barely.

"Suppose that'll be somethin' to keep in mind if the bar's ever invaded by obligate carnivores."

Eh, Beau would forgive you for a lot more than she'd forgive herself for, so it definitely worked out, Fjord.

Fuckups looking for a new start had to stick together, after all.

"Yeah, that kinda goes both ways," Beau said, and stuck one hand out toward him for a fistbump.

"Eh, let's say maybe a dozen?" Beau replied, still kind of yelling, yes. "Nice even number, and I can kind of stockpile 'em that way. Like . . . no huge rush, though."

Fjord chuckled and reached out that fist to bump it.

"You ever pull any shit, I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

So far, you were doing a hell of a lot better than he was, Beau.

Caritas, Friday Evening

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