Party at Emilio's! Now at noodle shop!

[supernal 22146]

As for himself Emilio poured a cup of cider. The wine he would save for later. Guests were multiplying like amoeba now and he didn't want to sour the atmosphere or dampen their proliferating interactions by being a poor and sloppy host. The bubbles tickled his nose, reaching even past the wiry thicket of his mustache, causing the old man to snort some cider back into the glass. He got his coughing under control a second later and downed the remainder in one go, so as to properly show the drink who was the drinker and who was the drinkee.

His attention is partially snagged by the shifting presence of two hooded figures. The weather was so agreeable as to be downright polite, which made their choice of attire the more salient. He had his duties as a host, yes, but also indulging his reflex to curiosity had given him everything in his life. They had food, drink, and space. Surely the flower of celebration wouldn't wilt if he just stepped away for a few minutes?

Emilio got up. He even managed a few steps away from the table where Chidi and Igni were starting to really chop things up, socializing-wise. But his egress was vigorously truncated by the presence of a man, two men actually, really two men and a man-sized knapsack. Emilio opened his mouth to speak but Pablo was already working the body.

"Rod . . . Marie . . . Dora . . . good bread!"

"Ah!"

Emilio embraced Pablo's companion and then Pablo himself, in that order. Then he held Pablo at arm's length.

"Because your tongue is very lively yet your eye gleams a little dull I will tell neither Rod nor Marie that you find her impediment of speech, what is the word. Silly? It is a very dear concern to Marie, please be kind. Now my new friends, allow me to introduce you to other new friend."

Emilio reached out and patted Drift by the shoulder with force enough to push him closer to the group. No escape.

"Worry not about the past new friend. Hunger and thirst, they can climb onto a person's back and drive them to wonderfully mad thoughts."

And then a card drawn from the black deck.

"'What is the smelliest place you've been to?'. For me it is inside of a landshark's stomach. I put up a barrier just as it made to bite me and it chipped its teeth but still managed to get me down. Hell of a time getting out, and very desperate to do so once the ward wore off. Ruined my cloak. You?"

(OOC: Anyone is free to answer! But tagging the people I’m specifically interacting with @Dupin @Walk Among The Abyss)

Edited August 15, 2020 by supernal

[Dupin 156]

The dizzying mass of stimuli around me would need some unpacking later, and for this reason I jotted some notes to help contextualize things for future me:

Spoiler

 

A cursory wave and hospitable yet unruffled acknowledgement--that's all the reactions that our boisterous entrance got from this raft of queer ducks. Other than those blasé reactions, all we got was profound indifference.

I'm not complaining, just surprised. I thought I had a decent grasp on how to behave in public, but even the two most reasonable looking folks in the crowd seemed to treat our arrival as standard fare. Am I too self-conscious? Am I too harsh on Pablo's interpersonal skills? Or...maybe I'm the weird one and all of this is normal?

No, that's definitely not true--the clanking metallic cookware, rambunctious double hello, and unsolicited justification of our presence is definitely not normal conduct. My gauge of normalcy is definitely still intact; Pablo is still weird; pointing at people is still rude and the girthy woman in cultural garb isn't an archetype of the ordinary; naming yourself what you look like is still odd and looking like you robbed an apple stand isn't a fashion statement; a carefree wave from a man with technicoloured eyes doesn't signify sanity, even if his well-kept moustache signals some degree of put-together-ness; an affable reaction from the host means nothing if he's just acting polite, also he is old, has a suspiciously long beard, and is hosting bloodied feline folk at his house...so you never know how grounded in reality the old man still is. My point being, this isn't normal. None is this is normal and definitely I've still got it. It's like that old saying goes: A sane person to an insane society must appear insane.

...Now that I put pen to paper, what I'm saying sounds a lot like something an insane person might say...Well, anyway, I digress.

 

While the cogs of my mind cranked at maximum capacity just trying to keep up with all the characters in attendance, Emilio pulled me away from my vigorous note-taking as he came towards me like some sort of affectionate iron-maiden taking a victim. I reluctantly returned his embrace with a weak manly one armed wrap-and-tap. (Specifically, three taps on his upper-back as manly men tend to.) In retrospect, I should've given him a proper hug, but I acted quickly in the moment, and now we're here. Besides, the old fellow didn't seem to mind; he immediately moved his greeting over to Pablo. 

Without hesitation Pablo met Emilio's embrace with a hearty two handed wrap-around, which caused more metallic jingle jangling and clanging from the pots. The hug seamlessly reorganized itself into some much needed advice giving. With hands on shoulders, Emilio passed on sage wisdom to a sparkly eyed Pablo--the sort of sound wisdom that every young adventurer should know. Namely: Don't obtusely call people's disabilities "funny" because it isn't nice and people tend to not like it.

Also, for what it's worth, I want to officially redact any uncertainty I had about Emilio's grasp on things. The old man aptly noticed that Pablo was about as sharp as a bocce ball, so he's probably sane and normal enough.

Pablo just smiled and nodded as the old man spoke; the words went into his ears, and he mostly understood them individually, but the message as a whole was lost. A singular thought overrode the goofy young adventurer's usual stream of mental nonsense while Emilio spoke to him from so close:

Spoiler

Wow. That is a fantastic beard...I wonder if you need an artifact to grow one of those. Or maybe it's some product like tiny-Tobias's miracle grow? He does smell nice...

When Emilio finished talking Pablo let out a slight chuckle, which clearly signaled that Emilio's general tone was lost in translation.

"I'm always nice to Marie--I bring her that confit pork she loves!" Pablo responded.

As Emilio forced Drift into the fray, Pablo reinforced the old man's statement about the past by honing in on the present and tangible--in his patented brainless optimist's way of speaking Pablo addressed Drift. 

"Nice apples! Looks like y'all had a fantastic yield this season! I'm Pablo, by the way! And this is-"

I cut him off before he had a chance to introduce me. Introductions lead to camaraderie and camaraderie is not conducive to good biographical work. I briefly explained that I was "the narrator" and needed to maintain a certain degree of objectivity. Hopefully that was enough to satiate them, and with that I went back to diligent note-taking.

Pablo snorted "Isn't he funny?" in a chipper little laugh as I finished explaining. He was pouring himself a glass of wine. 

Soon Emilio initiated a classic game of 20 questions, and once he opened the floor to everybody else Pablo was ready to chime in.

"I have SO many questions about that adventure!" Pablo began. "But, do you have somewhere I can leave my stuff? This bag is heavy..." He gestured to his back while shifting the straps that were digging into his shoulders. Before anybody could answer him, he also added his answer to the question. "Also, easy question. The smelliest place for me is definitely tiny-Tobias's house back in Villam. Good ol' tiny-T makes these VERY pungent cheeses, and he's lactose intolerant, so his place always stinks."

 

(OoC: I just want to throw out there that I mean no offense when I tease your characters as the narrator. I really do say these things in a light hearted way and am trying to capture a "regular" human pessimist/douche in these crazy scenarios we spin up. So yeah, let me know if you take offense in any way and I'll happily stop 🙂.)

(OoC: Also, @The Alexandrian I only noticed after writing most of my post that I was accidentally skipping you. I know technically there is no rotation and our characters aren't really interacting yet, but still I apologize lol)

Edited August 16, 2020 by Dupin

[Venus Sprite 859]

Igni grinned broadly, loving being an object of fascination. It didn’t hurt that in her human form she found this humanoid’s form quite attractive. An enjoyable effect, but one she would have to keep a close eye on, lest her heart run off with her head.

14 hours ago, Purple Eagle said:

"That chick over there, she can make and control fire." Chidi says, turning back to Igni. "I'm supposed to return back to where I'm from once she comes in, but I'm really interested in the fact that you're a real dragon! You're experiencing life as a human, what would it be like for me to experience life as a dragon, I wonder?" He barely notices Emilio bringing cider and wine to a table.

“We call ourselves dragons, though you may be disappointed,” she said. “We look like dragons for the most part but have fur instead of scales, and we do not lay eggs. We also don’t have horns or frills or spikes.

“Flying is fun, as is being intimidating among the small folk is fun, too – watching villagers scatter beneath your shadow never gets old. I’ve even been worshipped as a god a few times. That was… interesting.

“But among our own kind I’m afraid it’s rather similar to yours. You know, demanding fathers, worrying mothers, annoying brothers.” She rolled her eyes. “Just like small folk our society has expectations we don’t always like to meet.

“Anyway, your friend. Do you want to introduce me?” She also wanted to speak to the two travellers Cassie was speaking to, and find out if and how she knew them.

[Walk Among The Abyss 332]

Drift suddenly found himself in a throng of people, no, not exactly people, but a throng, nonetheless.

“My my!” He exclaimed as he was now a part of this evolving primordial soup. His smile widened more as he was complimented for the apples. Far from inconspicuous, a few still protruded from his vest, now fully dried; as he touched one lump as if to remove it, he hesitated and swung his arm back to his side.

This is what a party feels like, he thought admiring the back and forths as questions were asked and genuine discussions were being had. Drift’s brain, now fully medicated, was not firing as quickly as normal. The stimuli that bombarded his synapses were not equipped to handle it while under the medication, so he forced his focus onto the host and the so-called Pablo as he spoke.

“I once got stuck at the bottom of a garbage pit where I had been napping the night before. Only to wake up to piles of garbage nestled on top of me! Ha! They must have thought me dead and continued to savor me up with heaps of discarded waste.” His voice became increasingly too high at first with excitement as he spoke immediately after Pablo, his answer exploding from his mouth much like a water balloon filled to full.

“But the breakfast I had made up for the inconvenience.”

Edited August 16, 2020 by Walk Among The Abyss

[Purple Eagle 1241]

Chidi notes Igni's broad grin, thinking it makes her look more attractive. "I like your smile." He's not disappointed in the least bit by Igni's unique type of dragon, if anything he finds it far more exotic. He does furrow his brow a little when she talks about feeling intimidating, though, but thankfully she doesn't speak as though she attacked any villagers.

Though, from a human perspective, it can be a bit fun to watch insect-sized critters scatter once you make your presence known... perhaps it's no different from what Igni speaks of.

Expectations one doesn't always like to meet is something he can relate to a little. For instance, settling down and giving his mother a grandchild. That's an expectation he's not ready to meet at the moment.

Chidi nods when she's done talking. "It seems you have an interesting life, indeed. To soar the skies with wings of your own... if I could be a dragon for at least a day, I'd be satisfied." He pauses, looking up at the sky and imagining himself flying without the aid of technology, or his powers. An idea pops into his head, and he looks back down at Igni. "If you can take on human form... is the reverse possible? By which I mean, could you make me a dragon for a day?" He asks, trying to manage his expectations.

As for Cassie, however, he looks over at the younger girl's approach to the two travellers. "I will, when she comes over. She'll most certainly approach me once she's done with those two."
@Venus Sprite

Edited August 20, 2020 by Purple Eagle

[The Alexandrian 1421]

Although Cassy's unbidden approach causes Caeceila to pause, Caeceila, exercising uncharacteristic restraint, refrains from whirling about to face the meddler.  Instead, she rests her right hand on the hilt of her black longsword and evaluates Cassy with a sidelong glance.  Her icy eyes and grim expression convey silent fury as she appraises any weapons Cassy is openly wearing.  She elects to remain distant and guarded, her body language cautioning Cassy against encroaching on her space.  While she is costumed in the vestments of a wayfarer, Caeceila's bearing betrays her as a member of the Terran nobility, and those conversant in celebrity news and politics might recognize her as the foul-tempered, gore-spattered heiress apparent to the Glasmann Comital Family.

No organism native to this godforsaken world is alright.  Steeped in blood, what little peace we enjoyed has been obliterated by monstrous armies lurking within and rampaging without.  The heroes of yore have forsaken their duty, and those of us who have taken up their mantle are divided.  Severe casualties are inevitable.

And no matter how impossible our situation becomes, I hunt and I war, for the sacred blood pumping through my heart demands no less.  No matter how little you care, I mourn the loss of innocent life and the tragic existence of the afflicted.  I hate the inhuman things that walk this land sowing sorrow and rooting out peace and contentment, and I constantly worry that I might lose myself and become one of them.

So no.  Not even I am alright.  Are you alright, Cammy?

After casually popping a piece of jerky into her mouth, Cammy cheerily waves at Igni with her free hand.  Truth be told, she isn't sure that Igni is waving at her.  Perhaps Igni recognizes her from Gabriela's birthday bash (with extra emphasis on bash).  She is a tiger-person, and some of her features are remarkably similar in all of her forms.  Then again, she could be waving at that small tree behind her or that bush over there; Cammy has observed stranger behaviors among druids and Gaians.

Cammy watches Cassy's approach but doesn't walk over to meet her or attempt to shake Cassy's hand.  She curtsies politely and smiles warmly but, much like Caeceila, keeps her distance.  She swallows a piece of jerky before exclaiming, in her usual bubbly manner,

Hi, I'm Cammy!

While Caeceila speaks, Cammy reaches into her bag, searches for a piece of jerky, and, discovering that the bag is empty, turns the bag inside out and begins to gnaw on it.  When Caeceila addresses her, she thinks for a moment before responding.

I wouldn't say no to some homecooked food if you have any.  We've been rationing our food and water ever since our guide led us into that ambush and we killed all those people.  Well, I guess they weren't exactly people at that point...

But I have money, so I can pay you!  Right now, I'd even take a chicken or an old horse.  Just don't put any of those exotic poisons or weird alien eggs into whatever you want to trade me.  Those don't taste very good.  🤢

Edited August 21, 2020 by The Alexandrian

[supernal 22146]

"Only look around." Emilio swept his arm out, gesturing to the unoccupied spaces in his yard, which melded seamlessly into the greater territory of the Wilds (which observation may raise the hairs on some hackles; if strangers could pass through unhampered, what else?). "You will see much space where you can place your very heavy bag. Or if you prefer also, there is my home. Don't break anything and for the sake of all that is precious open no chests and no satchels! But otherwise wherever it fits, it may go."

Cae, Cammy and Cassy are too far removed for Emilio to make out; he sees them and their conversation lends its presence to the communal din but their words are indistinguishable, stock added to a stew which bolstered the base but which did not stand out on its own. What he did notice however, what he could not fail to notice, was when the tiger-person upended their satchel and had to satisfy themselves with gnawing at a stick of dried meat.

"No no no!" Emilio cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting at the trio while shouldering his way past the small circle to which he had belonged. It was only a few steps in their direction, not enough to peel completely away from Pablo and his scribe or from the ever-clarifying, ever-wittier drifter. "You are here as a stranger but one I hope to make a friend. Please, eat and drink! I have more food than I can eat alone and don't want to see it wasted."

That resolved Emilio turned back to the others.

"Life thought to hmmm, ah, entrench us in mud, no? Each in his own way. But hah! Life did not know that we are seeds, eh? And in that filthy rich mud we grew strong roots. Perhaps another question?" And without waiting for response Emilio drew another card. "What is the best or the worst thing you've purchased?"

[Purple Eagle 1241]

@The Alexandrian

VALPOST
-
"Uh..." Cassie reads Caecelia's body language, seeing the arm on the weapon and stopping in her tracks. This is one intense lady! Cassie isn't openly wearing any weapons, she looks completely unharmed, truth to the contrary. "Woah, calm down, lady!" Seeing as she's a newcomer, whatever status Caecelia has eludes Cassie, but her bearing reminds her of Svetlana: same haughty posture, like that of a noble.

The lady speaks, and it's evident that she either thinks herself deep, or likes the sound of her own voice. Ugh, noble types! Halfway through the woman's speech, she stops listening and focuses more on the tigerwoman, smiling warmly in return. Now here was a person without a bee in her undies!

"Hi Cammy, I'm Cassie! Nice to meet you." She greets in return, curtsying as well. She finds Camelia's antics amusing, and chuckles as the weretiger starts nomming on her bag. She takes the opportunity to look around and sees Chidi and Igni talking. It's Chidi! A man as good in bed as he is good as a friend. Could he be putting the moves on the rotund woman? He seems really excited and interested in whatever the woman has to say, that's for sure.

Cammy speaks, eliciting a sympathetic grin from Cassie. "While I came with rations..." She begins, patting her pockets and the storage beads contained within. "... it looks like you'll be able to find a lot of food in this man's house. It looks to be some sort of open-air party, and the fact that Chidi's here means it's open to everyone. I don't think you'd even have to pay, too!" She expects free food to attract Cammy. All you can eat, without needing to part with money they'd probably need? Who wouldn't be attracted to such a proposition, especially such an obviously-canivorous tigerlady?

Speaking of canivore, she could go for some meat right now. Like, yum! Some fried chicken would be great!

It's a pity that their guide led them into an ambush, forcing them to defend themselves, however. That tells her to be careful who she asks for help in getting to know the area. She'd hate to be lured into an ambush, and would hate even more to have to incinerate those responsible. 

"We can go together, Cammy. You can bring along Miss likes-the-sound-of-her-own-voice, too." She gestures to Caecelia to make it clear just whom she's referring to.

[Walk Among The Abyss 332]

Drifter ran his fingers through his hairless scalp as if he had a shag rug perched atop. His fingers automatically tried

“Best or worst thing…” his mumbling trailed off, eyes glaring at the ground. His trance like state growing more awkward every second.

A few words slipped out muttering words like money, clone, and vial with little to no indication if these were related to one another or not.

At last his head raised and answered with utmost confidence, “A mansion!”

“Emilio! What about yourself? What has been the best or most terrible thing you’ve purchased?”

His head cranked to Pablo’s direction, “What about yourself?!”

All he can think of was, Have I made friends?

[Venus Sprite 859]

On 8/21/2020 at 2:01 AM, Purple Eagle said:

"I like your smile."

“Thank you,” Igni said, suddenly bashful. Around a human, no less. Father would be displeased, if he knew.

Perhaps that was all the more reason to enjoy it.

Before she could say something she might later regret, Chidi changed the topic.

On 8/21/2020 at 2:01 AM, Purple Eagle said:

"If you can take on human form... is the reverse possible? By which I mean, could you make me a dragon for a day?"

Igni’s widened in surprise, and then curiosity.

“Never have I been asked that before,” she said, pondering.

“I suppose… it’s possible,” she said. “We make our own human bodies, or rather, the bodymaker makes them. Erthadyana was mine. She was very expensive, but very good. But she could not make you a dragon for only a day. Maybe forever?” She shrugged.

“I would be curious to find out.” Igni cocked her head, looking Chidi up and down. “What is your capacity for magic? You would need to store your human form in a pocket plane. Can you make one? If not, you must be taught.

“And then, to make a dragon body you would need much gold." She counted off potential barriers on chubby fingers. "The raw flesh alone would cost pounds of gold. Unless you were content to be a small dragon.” Igni held her thumb and forefinger together.

“But, if you think the sacrifice worthy, I would gladly take you to a bodymaker. She is in Dragonsoul Summit on Genesaris. We would need to take the gate in the city to Stormward, and fly from there. If weather permitting. At least a week round trip.

“How much do you want to be a dragon?” she said, smiling.

[supernal 22146]

On 8/26/2020 at 9:28 AM, Walk Among The Abyss said:

Drifter ran his fingers through his hairless scalp as if he had a shag rug perched atop. His fingers automatically tried

“Best or worst thing…” his mumbling trailed off, eyes glaring at the ground. His trance like state growing more awkward every second.

A few words slipped out muttering words like money, clone, and vial with little to no indication if these were related to one another or not.

At last his head raised and answered with utmost confidence, “A mansion!”

“Emilio! What about yourself? What has been the best or most terrible thing you’ve purchased?”

His head cranked to Pablo’s direction, “What about yourself?!”

All he can think of was, Have I made friends?

(OOC: Not skipping people so much as taking advantage of the casual order and brevity and all that so I'm not always last when asking a party question!)

"For me without question it is an inertial dampener. Best thing I have ever bought. This was before the crystal devices got very fancy so it is very simple and also very specialized. It keeps track of direction and speed and distance from when you turn it on to when you turn it off. You cannot so much solve a labyrinth with it but it will always lead you back to the start so in places I have come across many skeletons of people not able to find their way either through or back, I was given a chance to try again and again."

Emilio breaks off from the group but does not go very far, certainly aiming to stay within earshot of any other answers or queries or introductions meanwhile refreshing his bubbly cider drink. When he returns to the group he has his back to the food and games rather than his front, and motions to Drift with his cup.

"Just one thing – you did not say the mansion was your best or your worst purchase. And what happened to it? Why was it your best or your worst?"

Edited August 28, 2020 by supernal

[Purple Eagle 1241]

@Venus Sprite

Chidi finds Igni's bashfulness cute, and his smile says so, even though he refrains from verbalizing his thoughts.

He listens to her speak with interest, wondering what culture her type of dragon has. It would be intersting to live among them for a day, assuming they were welcoming of any humans in dragon bodies. A bodymaker? He's hopeful that such a person can help him with his wish. However, his interest wanes a little when she mentions him possibly being forever stuck like that. That wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact that he had his dear old mother to think of.

Plus, the rules of his universe dictates that if he's changed so much to be no longer human, he can't go back home. Sure, his mother could come to see him, and giving birth to him in her teens means she's still young enough to come visit him, but what about his other friends? Those in the army, the other Navy ALSes (ed: his country's version of SEALs)?

Igni continues by asking rapid-fire questions, which he answers one-by-one once she's done. He doesn't miss her once-over, though, and has the presence of mind to shoot her a grin that could be read as flirty. In fact, it's supposed to be. "Magic? My world has what could be classified as a functional magic system." He only knows that due to the time he's spent off-world. "That's how I can control sound, and Cassie over there can control fire."

Pocket plane? "Well, we have what would in DnD terms be called Bags of Holding, in that there's a metal that allows for bigger-on-the-inside containers." To show what he means, he makes a gesture above the beads on his left wrist (one that resembles the kind you'd see on Wakandans in Black Panther), and a holographic interface pops up. "I'd need to buy extra space, but I could feasibly store my body there."

Gold? Another problem. While he has a lot of money saved up, changing it into enough gold would likely leave him bankrupt. He definitely doesn't want to be a tiny dragon! "I suppose you couldn't turn my body into gold, somehow?" Wait, is he really doing this? He'd lose his body forever! Perhaps it's better to utilize the cyberfashion of his world to turn himself into some sort of dragonoid being... nah, that won't be the same.

He's battling internally with himself by the time she's done listing off all the things to consider. "I don't have nearly enough gold, nor am I willing to bankrupt myself turning everything I own into gold. Even if I were... right now I can't go beyond this location." He winces as he says this. An opportunity is before him, and it's about to slip away!

The fact that he could be stuck like this forever doesn't cross his mind as often as it should.

"I'm here to see if this plane, Valucre I hear it's called, is safe enough. Cassie's entrance is supposed to mean my exit, but I'm enjoying this conversation with you too much to just leave. Not just the fact that I find you attractive, but there's something about your personality that I like." He confesses to the woman he just met. Sure, he's a womanizer looking for some carnal fun, but he's not the sort to pump and run.

His mother raised him better than that.

"Even if I could leave, I can only be here for..." He checks his watch. "... about an hour more." He says, apologetically. He doesn't want to go.

"Is there any alternative?" He asks.

What, besides this writer deciding some of Igni's dragon magic rubs off on you? 😛 

Edited August 29, 2020 by Purple Eagle

[Dupin 156]

The game of 20 questions really is quite remarkable as a medium for getting to know the players, and sometimes a single question tells you pretty much everything you need to know. Emilio's answer had notes of adventure, skill, and triumph. Pablo's answer was boorish, simple, and involved farts (I hope). Drift's answer was...Drift's answer.

Each development in Drift's story about the great garbage pit debacle was met with captivated nods from Pablo--the type of vigorous nodding that conveys a real "I know what you mean, brother" that is alarming given the nature of the story. By contrast, I was trying my best to not show disgust as I wrote down my own abridged version of the tale. 

Soon after eliciting those two responses, Emilio began answering Pablo's question about bag placement.

"...wherever it fits, it may go."

The subtle silence punctuating Emilio's sentence was like the bang used to start a race, but this race has no clear finish line and the only participant is Pablo. The dopey aspiring adventurer immediately set off on a meandering search for good places to lay down the bag. With him scampering to-and-fro, left-and-right, back-and-forth, up-and-down, and in-and-out, the group of four was left with just Drift, Emilio, a full glass of wine, and I. Luckily, being a good host, Emilio didn't leave much room for awkward silences and kept on rolling out question cards from the deck.

Yet again, my conjecture about a single question being enough in games of 20 questions was re-affirmed: Drift gave yet another characteristically Drift answer, Emilio gave a very pragmatically Emilio answer, and Pablo would surely not disappoint. Moments after Emilio asked Drift to expand on his answer, Pablo worked his way back to us while visibly relieved to have ditched the heavy bags. He picked up his wine, twirled it in the glass, sniffed it, and performed other unexpectedly purposeful maneuvers with the wine--he was clearly performing tests on the beverage while waiting for a chance to chime in and catch up in the game. During this short pause between Pablo's re-integration and Emilio's question being addressed (or not), a stranger might even confuse Pablo for a non-idiot with sophisticated hobbies like sommeliering--let's see how long the illusion would last...

Edited September 2, 2020 by Dupin
Forgot to replace TeX italics from the post...

[Walk Among The Abyss 332]

“The mansion…” His voice lowered slightly, reaching to levels of a mumble but still coherent enough for the closer Emilio to hear. His decor and behavior shifted, becoming sullen and downtrodden.

“Yes, well. Long story aye. Um…may I?” Pointing at the beverage table, a few long strides received him, and he gripped a cup from the table and made his way back to his original spot as if on autopilot.

He stared into the cup, lost in the liquids surface, watching the ghosts that took shape in the cider sinking to the bottom of the cup as a loop continued to play.

“Emilio. Pablo. I’m a strange fellow as you can see. I didn’t use to be this way. I had a family. Friend’s. A life.”

The cup reached his lips as he drained the liquid, with it the ghosts of his past.

“The mansion was beautiful. Took me years and traveling, searching for treasure, searching for wealth. I was finally able to by this structure that sat atop a hill and overlooked a gorgeous river.”

A weak smile forced its way to the older man and slowly jumped to Pablo.

“Uh, my wife was home when a fire broke out. The children as well.” His voice broke as he spoke, eyes now deepened with sadness.

“But yes, yes. It was a magnificent purchase. But also, a terrible one.”

Silence passed through his lips, slightly hinged opened then filled the void, "Funny how the best things in life can turn out to be the worst."

A chuckle floated from the depths of his mind to the forefront. Drift fought it away. Maybe the two would undoubtedly doubt the story. Truth or deceit, some truth did lay within the story, but Drift was not one to muster out the truth anymore. The fire, family and mansion didn’t account much information to why Drift was how he was.

“Emilio! You must have some other stories. Why on this planet would you have a party for strangers?” Without much delay, he whipped his head toward Pablo, “Do you have any of this cheese you spoke of earlier? I’d like to taste some.”

His original joyous conduct had resurfaced.

[The Alexandrian 1421]

Caeceila Glasmann is utterly and unapologetically unimpressed by Cassie's taunting.  If Cae was still a kindergartner, the childish name-calling she was subjected to would not go unanswered.  In such a case, Cae might hit Cassie with a ball, knock her off of the jungle gym at recess, or dig a ten foot hole in the sandbox, shove Cassie in, and bury her alive.  Instead, Caeceila simply continues to scowl at Cassie.  When she is convinced that no other slight is forthcoming, Cae flatly remarks,

Boohoo.  I am so grievously wounded by your rapier-like wit that I shall surely die.  Lady Luck does not favor me, for I have had the misfortune of encountering the most disagreeable scullery maid in this county.  Oh, what a cruel world.

Caeceila pauses, having delivered her deadpan monologue, to mockingly press the back of her left hand against her forehead as if signaling that she is about to swoon.  Then, she slowly rotates her left forearm and emphatically flips Cassie the bird.

I don't often meet people willing to saunter up to a pair of armed strangers, insult one of them, and flirt with the other like a floozy.  They're - what's the expression - a dying breed.

Caeceila lowers her left hand to her side and curls her fingers around her scabbard.

If this is, in fact, a party, perhaps you'd like to dance.

Cammy declines to intervene as Cae and Cassie vie for dominance.  From Cammy's perspective, this isn't exactly an extraordinary conflict; Cae doesn't fare all too well when it comes to socializing.  Rather, Cammy again surveys the scene laid out before her.  The ornaments and games spread across the area lend credence to the claim that this event is a party of sorts, but the guests, well, the state of the guests suggests this is more of a charity function than a party.  From oversized knapsacks to soggy, apple-laden pockets, the motley congregation their apparent host had assembled wore the vestments of poverty.  Working within this framework, however, Cammy cannot account for the presence of Igni, though she observes that the plump woman sports the same saree she had worn at Isa's scandalous birthday bash.

It isn't in Cammy's nature to trust strangers, and it is no mistake that her mannerisms are disarming.  Tigers are ambush predators, after all.  Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly at Emilio's offer of free food, but for the most part, she maintains the illusion that she believes all is well.

Stuffing her holey bag into one of her pockets, Cammy turns her head to the side - so her lips cannot easily be read - and speaks in a hushed tone - so her voice cannot easily be heard.

Have you ever heard of Baba Yaga?  What about Rosina Leckermaul?  You can't trust old people who live in forests, especially old people who live in the forest and enjoy distributing free food to transients.  If they aren't evil witches, there's a good chance they're slavers, and to cut out all that Malleus Maleficarum "almost all witches are women because carnality" nonsense, I've met male witches and female wizards.

Cammy quietly waits for a response because Kindly Old Person + Free Food + Forest = Evil Witch and Normal People + Evil Witch - Heroes = Traumatizing Fairy Tale.