fandomtownies | Caritas, Friday Evening

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Caritas, Friday Evening

Fjord squinted a little at the zombie band tonight. At least, he was reasonably certain they were the zombie band? They didn't look like zombies, and the lead singer was some hairy guy claiming his name was Rob. Sure, he didn't actually know what the zombies' names were. They weren't all that chatty at the best of times. But he settled behind the bar and let them do their thing anyway.

Look, any night he didn't have to tape arms back onto people was a good night in his book. Even if their music was a little louder than he was used to.

It gave him something to focus on instead of the way he'd spent his yesterday with absolutely no recollection of the explosion on The Tide's Breath, no powers, and no memory of Fandom, wondering how long they'd be in port on this strange island and how Vandran was enjoying his vacation.

So, in short, he'd missed yet another shift at the forge.

Sigh.

[OOC: ... I keep losing my Thursdays, Care Bears are killing me. Open!]

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It was a flurry of bluebirds and prancing squirrels that brought Princess Amaya, complete with fancy green gown and the daintiest of glittery tiaras, into the bar that evening, laughing with faint protests to their chirps and chitters. A few rabbits bounded in after her through the door before it closed, and at least one teal deer, a modest entourage, but an entourage all the same.

And, really, Amaya had been exceptionally lucky so far this week, in that she'd still managed to remain herself up until about an hour ago, even if she very rarely stayed where she was. That still wouldn't reduce her ire at all later when she would finally cease to be the sweetest princess that Daventry had ever seen, but it was something.

"Alright, alright," she said, giggling fondly at the birds, who, finally having gotten an acquescence out of her, stopped pulling at her to goad her into the bar. A few of them still danced around in little twittering circles, but one settled neatly on her shoulder. "If you insist, I shall allow myself one," she lifted a finger and then bopped the bluebird on her shoulder lightly, lovingly, "drink, but that is all! Anything more would be most unbecoming, you know, and I shall like to get up early in the morning to start on that new project!"

Because, even as a princess, Amaya's gotta Amaya. Some things stayed strong in a Blackstone's blood, even when that blood was blue.

Her attention shifted the bartender, and she hoped he wouldn't mind the few extra squirrels scampering around the place. "Hello," she said, "I shall have one," and she lifted that finger again but, thankfully, did not boop the bartender as she had the bluebird, "drink please. We're celebrating."

Fjord managed to keep a baffled look of outright horror off his face at... all this. What. Who. How? Why?

Amaya?

"One... drink." He raised an eyebrow. "You, ah, got any particular kind of drink in mind, do you?"

He doubted she'd want ale today. And gods, she was wandering around with tree rats. Who the hell wandered around with tree rats?

Princesses did! Princesses who had had those tree rats as companions ever since she was but a mere baby, when Madeline of Avalon, princess of all squirrels, sent them to her as a blessing in the celebration of her fortitious birth!

Obviously!

"Perhaps..." She bit her lip a little as her head tilted, considering, "an ale will be fitting for today. Stars know I get my fill of wine back at the castle! Unless there's something else you'd recommend? Don't suppose you have any Dragons' Breath, do you?"

And she laughed, because that was obviously a joke. Dragon's Breath'll kill you.

"Fresh outta Dragon's Breath," said Fjord, in the careful tone of a man who was reasonably certain they stocked literally everything, but he didn't want to see Amaya die today. "But ale, I can do." He was already reaching for a mug, in fact. "How's it going, Amaya. You and your, ah, friends having a good night on the town?"

"We are!" said Amaya, beaming and looking pleased as punch, and then taking a second to scoop up one of the rabbits gathering around the bottom of her stool so that he could be closer to all the fun as well. "As I mentioned, we're celebrating! I've finally completed the ceremonial dagger that I've been working on specifically for my own coronation, now that my father, the King," just in case Fjord hadn't yet picked up on that particular detail yet, "has finally opened his eyes to the fact that the idea that someone has to be married to ascend the throne is archaic, old-fahsioned, and completely ridiculous. I'd be twice as good of a ruler as any of those yahoos he had pegged for king in my sleep!"

The birds and the squirrels and the one rabbit now on the bar all chirped to varying degrees of resounding agreement.

See, now there were shades of the Amaya that Fjord knew, hiding somewhere in there. He chuckled as he passed her drink over to her, and then stood back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, now I'm almost afraid to hear what kinds of yahoos your father," the king, "picked."

He was not. This had gone from baffling to hilarious in about three seconds flat.

See, now, and there was the trick behind a good AU. It was still very much Amaya in there, but also...not.

She grinned a little, as she reached for the drink, and a squirrel took the opportunity to race up her extended arm, onto her shoulder, giving her a little nuzzle, as squirrels enchanted to be a princess's best friend were wont to do.

"I'd love to tell you," she said, "but then I'd have to have a lot more of these," she lifted the mug slightly, "and that would hardly be becoming behavor for the future ruler of Daventry."

Her tone suggested she might not be too against the idea, though.

The warning chitter from the squirrels, however, suggested perhaps that she wouldn't have a choice in the matter, not if they had anything to do with it.

"Right, and you certainly wouldn't want to do anything unbecoming," Fjord rattled off easily. He reached for a bar rag and started wiping down counters. "So, ceremonial dagger, huh? Now you got me all curious about what this ceremony's gonna involve, you know."

"I have a feeling you'll be terribly disappointed," said Princess Amaya, her smile a bit apologetic. "It's most just a lot of handing off of scepters and daggers and the Magic Shield while someone reads from an old book. There's also a gaze into the Magic Mirror, which you'd certainly better hope reveals good news, and then the counting of Magic Chest of Neverending Gold."

Yes, she said neverending.

That was why her eyes were just a wee bit big with dread over that particular bit.

Fjord was quiet for a long moment before hedging, "That's something you? have to do? Bein' royalty is about delegatin' tasks to those most suited for the job, isn't it? Why not just get a treasurer to do it?"

It kinda seemed like a no-brainer to Fjord, anyway.

"Oh, usually, yes," Amaya confirmed with a nod. "The Royal Treasurer handles all of that on a day-to-day basic, but for the Coronation Ceremony, the incoming King is expected to count them as a tradition display of his willingness to take on fiscal responsibility."

There was a...significant pause.

"It's a long ceremony," she added, which was, at best, a significant understatement.

"... Sounds a little bit like performative bullshit," Fjord mused.

Which was an interesting thing for a guy who went around speaking in a fake accent to say.

"But once it's over, at least that's someone else's problem from there out?"

Beau, as it happened, had spent some time earlier today in the same alternate universe as Keyleth had, but they hadn't been ~~on the same map~~ there at the same time. And she'd apparently been some kind of sentient robot who could hover and throw orbs around (and sure, she could heal people with those, but that was way less fun than using them for damage) but was still a monk, go figure.

Her team had totally successfully taken the two control points, too. Yeah, you were welcome for being kept alive and bailed out of some sticky situations, DPSers.

Anyway, she was back to being herself now but maybe still riding the high of the victory a little bit, because she came barging into Caritas with both arms raised over her head and crowing, "Experience tranquility, fuckers!"

Hi to you too, Fjord.

"You're the most tranquil one in the room, hm?" Fjord gave Beau a tusky grin as she made her grand entrance. "I can tell. Looks like someone needs a victory drink."

"Or, like, five," Beau replied, giving Amaya an amused look as she staked out her place at the bar. "This week is kind of a fun weird, you know?"

Obviously she was the most tranquil. Obviously.

"It's definitely something, anyway," Fjord mused. "Still figurin' out what to make of the band, though."

And that whole 'the sabotage never happened' AU yesterday that was crushing his heart so help him. But hell, if there was one thing Fjord was good at, it was grinning through all that shit.

"It's kind of tripping me out that they're not falling apart," Beau admitted, and the band got some epic side eye for that.

It was probably for the best that she'd managed to avoid the AU where her parents had actually cared about her, really.

One of these days, Fjord, you might finally understand that your friends didn't just keep you around because they thought you were useful, or that you had your shit together more than you really did. One of these days. Probably sooner than Beau would learn not to hate herself so much.

"Anyway, 'sup, dude? I'm still not getting anywhere with fuckin'Portalocity."

"Neither am I," Fjord admitted. "This week ain't been makin' that any easier, either. Hard to know if you're fuckin' comin' or goin' around here, never mind keepin' who you are figured out from minute to minute."

He shrugged, and made a reach for a bottle of whatever was nearest.

"Probably too much to ask that Monday'll be any different. I mean, it will be, but how, you know?"

"Man." Beau spread her hands and shrugged. "Who the fuck even knows? Guess we're gonna find out one way or the other, but it's probably gonna suck since this one hasn't been too bad."

"Yeah... not bad at all," Fjord replied.

... A little disorienting, maybe. In the same way that the labyrinth had been, right down to fresh and fun new trauma based around Sabian's betrayal, but...

"We get another week of monster zombie bullshit, Beau, and I'm tappin' you in to help just burn this whole fuckin' place to the ground."

"That --" Beau frowned slightly, because she wanted to object that she liked it here but saying so outright would have felt weird. "Seems a little bit extreme? I will fucking find a way to punch the island, though. I will."

She hadn't succeeded at that yet, but she wasn't giving up on trying.

"... Punchin' is good too," Fjord allowed, shrugging. "There're probably one or two things about this place I wouldn't want to burn anyway."

Ish. The forge was fine, and fire wasn't a bad thing, there.

If only you knew how much of a good thing that might be someday, Fjord.

"I mean, the people though?" Yes. Yes, that was Beau kind of admitting to not hating everyone, and maybe even being concerned for their well-being. Contain your shock please. "They didn't ask for any of this either."

Sure, she still sounded cranky and disgruntled and bored about the whole thing, but still.

"Think this shit will wear off at the end of summer?"

She asked, making grabby hands at the booze.

Yeah, Fjord really had no idea when taking an apprenticeship out of boredom that he'd been leaning hard into some CRAZY FORESHADOWING WHAT THE HELL EVEN-- ahem.

"No damn clue," he replied, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Why the end of summer in particular?" A beat. "I guess why Monday in particular, too. None of this makes any damn sense, Beau, all I know is we've been dragged along for this whether we like it or not, and... hell, if there was some way of knowin', why, at least maybe we could stop it."

Rather than resorting to widespread fire, and all.

Beau shrugged. "Fits the pattern. The weirdness changes at the beginning of every week, seemed to start right around when summer did. It's like, really regular, right? I don't think it's unreasonable to make a guess that it might follow the seasons like it does the days of the week."

Careful, Beauregard, your nerd is showing.

Fjord squinted a little at that. And then slid a drink across the bar at her.

"Okay," he allowed, "okay, that's some solid logic there. Ain't been the passin' of the months that've made any difference, so I guess we'll see... what, when new students arrive? If your theory holds any weight."

And if it did, he was going to be slightly awed. As you do.

"I mean," said Beau, who was going to try and pretend like she wasn't that smart anyway, like she didn't try and read all her girlfriend's school textbooks when she thought nobody would notice, "I maybe just pulled that whole theory out of my ass just now, so don't place any bets on it or anything."

She shrugged broadly at him, picked up the drink, and slammed the whole thing back. See? Not that smart, just a loudmouthed asshole here to have a good time.

And Fjord wasn't about to call her on it. He'd hardly want her to stop being smart on his account, after all. And so he just grinned, and shrugged, and poured another drink along with one for himself.

"That's why they call it 'gambling.'"

That was fair. Beau would hardly want Fjord to stop adopting a persona that made him feel more confident just on her account, either. You know. If she knew about that.

"It's your coin, man," Beau said with a flash of a smirk. "You do what you want to with it."

Speaking of coin, she put some money down on the bar, about enough to cover five drinks plus a nice tip. (Being a puppy for a week meant she had last week's booze money left to spend, which was nice.) And then started in on the second drink, a little more slowly this time.

"This shit keeps up past the next few weeks, though, I might riot. It's exhausting."

"It is," Fjord agreed. "I'm gettin' fuckin' tired of it, Beau. If this keeps up before we manage to get Portalocity to cooperate, I might have to propose takin' a field trip to the mainland. Do some drinkin' in a bar somewhere that isn't actively trying to kill us. Maybe pick a fight with something that ain't gonna infect us and turn us into..."

He waved a hand around, vaguely.

"At least now that the vampires are gone, that ain't an issue."

"I'm always down for that," Beau said immediately. "The bar part and the fight part both, I mean. Whatever you gotta do to take care of yourself, right?"

"Right," Fjord agreed. "Even if it ain't our world, even the weird shit they got on Earth is normal compared to some of the crap the island's been shoving us through lately."

Just wait until you were a sixteen-bit pixel monstrosity, Fjord. Just wait.

"Hell, I'm up for drinkin' on the mainland whenever. Just gotta do it with my human face on, is all. You got one of those I.D. card things yet?"

Beau snickered and pulled her fake ID out of one of her belt pouches, flipping it between her fingers a few times just to be a showoff.

"Yeah, I'm all good there. So maybe this time we can actually get into the bar and do some drinking before we get into a fight."

"And there's the dream," Fjord replied, grinning crookedly. "I got one of them too, useful little things. Lookin' forward to actually puttin' it to use, now."

And getting the hell off this island for an evening, too. Maybe bloodying up his knuckles a bit.

It'd be good for them both.

Yeah, no matter how happy Beau might be here, there was always going to be that part of her that craved the adrenaline rush and even the pain of a good fight.

She cracked her knuckles and finished off her second drink. "So do you have like some crazy-ass backstory to go with your human face? I kinda want to know."

Fjord gave his shoulders a shrug.

"Stick with what I know," he replied. "Earth's still got a lot of room for learnin' which way is fuckin' up or not, but if I claim I've done some shipping over the years, that can't be that hard a sell, right? They still got ships on this world, even if I have yet to see any of any note around the island."

Dammit, Fandom.

"Baltimore's got a port, anyway. That's convenient."

"Yeah, that's probably smarter that way," agreed Beau. "I kind of have a whole story about being on a break from school to, like, find myself or some shit."

Which was not actually that far from the truth, so hey.

"Maybe you could, like, find some reality show about sailors or something just to make sure you get some of the modern details?"

Or maybe she just wanted to hear him complain about sailor reality TV. Whichever.

"... That actually a thing?"

He supposed he wouldn't be surprised by that. They had reality TV about basically everything else, after all.

"Suppose it couldn't hurt none, anyway."

He'd regret this.

"I mean, probably." Beau had maybe caught a few minutes of a Deadliest Catch rerun once, at least. "There's reality shows about fuckin' antique collectors, for fuck's sake, so why not?"

"People really will watch just about anything around here, won't they?" Fjord shook his head a little. "World of spectators instead of doers. It's fuckin' weird, Beau."

Not that he had a lifetime of heroing behind him or anything, but c'mon, at least he actually had some practical life experience.

He had more of it than Beau did! Not to say Beau had none, but . . . well, most of hers was of the illicit variety.

"To be fair, TV and movies aren't a thing in Exandria," she pointed out. "If they were? Pretty sure we'd have the same situation going on."

"Maybe," Fjord said, after a pause and a brief grimace. "I suppose them Thursday night movie deals that Peter hosts are pretty popular mostly with folks who never had that shit back where they were from. But at least those are social movies. Reason to get outta the hotel room, you know?"

Another pause.

"I never turn on the TV we got in there."

If he did, he probably would have known about that crab fishing show, yes.

"I don't actually have one," Beau admitted. "So I do most of that over at Karolina's place." So, 50/50 shot that there was any actual attention to what was on TV. "Or I watch shit on my phone sometimes, but like, when I'm working out usually."

"Yeah, ours came with the place. I gave up on the thing when I picked somethin' that actually sounded good and we got the bill the next day."

Ah, the hotel pay-per-view trap.

"I'm good with once-a-week-if-I-remember, anyway. The community center thing ain't usually half bad."

Usually. And it was easy enough to leave if he needed to. Typically.

More time period savvy people had fallen into the hotel pay-per-view trap, if that was any consolation, Fjord!

"Also there's free snacks," Beau added, because she had priorities. "Been a while, I should drop in on one of those again."

"You should," Fjord agreed. "Take advantage of the free snacks. Wait and see how long it takes before Peter snaps and stops tryin' to pick thematic movies each week."

Fjord was willing to start a betting pool on that one, yes.

"Decent chance of making some money on guessing that," said Beau, who was clearly on the same wavelength here.

". . . Wow, we're such assholes." Not that she sounded like she was particularly sorry about it.

"We are," Fjord agreed easily. "But we're assholes in damn good company."

And with that, he poured her another drink.

And Beau toasted him with it the second she got her hands on it.

"Good looking out, dude," she drawled. Hanging out with assholes wasn't so bad if they helped make sure your drink was full.

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Caritas, Friday Evening

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