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Topic: Dragonblood's Disappearance
Subject: Well...


...it's about time you checked in!

We all know how RL can get the best of us, DB, and keep us away for longer than we'd like. Never fear, though, mate, we'll always keep your chair warm and be waiting on ya when ya manage to get back.

Posted on 2010-03-17 at 16:17:55.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: *twitch*


Gorram sheriff's an' their ruttin' shotguns! Why ya reckon they always gotta be pumpin' them things when they show up, anyhoo? Don't they know that kinda thing'll make a fella a mite twitchy?



Posted on 2010-03-17 at 16:11:07.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: New paths, new beginnings (part 2)


“Yes… poor poor Aelion…” she cooed without any real remorse over the fate she had no doubt sent the boy to. “I was not looking forward to delving into the dungeons anyway, though.”

She shrugged casually before lacing her arms up around his neck and once again showered him in a warm kiss. “But… you no doubt have other connections that could fill us in on what the moon eye’d scoundrel was up to, no? Because of course… I don’t my dear…”

Her color rose slightly, which only served to soften her already glowing features. “Hopefully you know somewhere with a contact… and food. I’m exhausted and starving after what you’ve done to me.”

With a wink she finally peeled her body off his with a slight sigh of regret. Nabbing a towel off the dresser she patted herself dry and then began scouring the room for her clothing. While they dressed she could not help but throw smiles and lingering looks his way. A feeling was welling up inside of her that she could only describe as ‘effervescent.’ It was if she were a bottle of champagne, full of pink frothy bubbles that threatened to explode at any moment.

“I am hungry, myself,” he smiled wolfishly as Cay pulled away from him, watching her as she set about gathering up her clothes, and thinking that he should stop her… Leave those clothes where they lay and get her back in that bed… and the thought was still in his head when, reluctantly, he began gathering up his own discarded gear; “but that hunger, I suppose, would be better fed on a full belly.” He brushed a hand across her cheek and paused to sample her lips again before retrieving his pants from where they lay in a heap with his boots.

“I cannot guarantee that any of my contacts will be able to set us back on the exact course we need to follow,” Nyx said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his boots on, now, “but I do know of a place, aside from Vadim’s Hydra, where we would be most likely to discover dealings that will inevitably lead us back, yes? If there is a happening in Drasnia, no matter how secret, there is someone at the Albatross who knows something of it.”

“The Albatross,” Cay asked, shooting him a curious glance.

“The Albatross and the Alekeg,” the mith’ganni nodded, smiling at her as he reached for his tunic, “A rather out of the way place along the North Harbor. A good place to look for work when Dmitrova has nothing to offer…” he chuckled softly as he pulled the garment over his head and shook his mane out from beneath the collar, “…not a bad place to look even when Vadim does have a contract on the table, honestly…”

Her brow rose even higher, “I did say I was exhausted didn’t I? I would hope that ravishing me hasn’t made you deaf…” She sighed heavily.

The assassin’s chuckle erupted into a laugh, then, and, having already shrugged back into his coat, flicked her a wink as he fastened his belt around his hips. “Do not worry, melamin,” he purred playfully, gathering up her hat and cloak, too, when he retrieved his own from the floor, “my legs are in no mood to walk the span of the city after this, either…” He laid the blood-red cloak and the battered leather hat beside her on the bed and pressed his lips to the scarred top of one ear before backing for the door… “You finish dressing and meet me out front; I shall see about some transportation for us, yes?”

As his lips left her ear her fingers touched over them, she nodded to what he said about meeting downstairs and looked at him with tender eyes. “You know ithilamin… you keep doing that and I’m going to fall madly in love with you…” she whispered softly as she watched him head out.

Because no one else has ever touched my ears… let alone kissed them…

“That is the plan, elen en cormamin,” Nyx replied as he stepped through the doorway and into the hall, “I shall see you downstairs…”

The mith’ganni, slipped down the staircase, then, made his way out the back door of the Blue Dove Inn and crossed the neatly maintained swatch of yard and garden that unfurled beyond the kitchen door to where the establishment maintained a small livery where guests whom had arrived on horseback or by carriage could stable their animals – a nice amenity for the Blue Dove’s standard patronage and, assuming that there was at least one of those patrons who had taken advantage of the service, a very convenient nicety for the Twilight Elf… He might have even been quicker about stealing one of the three animals that he found occupying the stables and been awaiting Cay at the Blue Dove’s front entry if he had not had to wait for the stable boy to finish with the shoveling of a newly vacated stall before running off to dinner. That one delay aside, though, Nyx had very little difficulty in coaxing a fidgety roan from his stall and into a saddle.

Cay was waiting just outside the Blue Dove’s front door when Nyx reined the pilfered horse to a stop in front of the Inn. Judging from her less than exasperated set of her features, Nyx noted, she hadn’t been waiting very long. “Arwenamin,” he grinned, leaning over in the saddle and extending a hand to her…

The witch blinked – first at him, then at the horse, and back at him, again – but, otherwise, didn’t make a move to step closer or take the offered hand. Her expression hinted at a slight trepidation at approaching the animal.

… “We might want to hurry, love,” Nyx smiled, turning his palm up and extending his hand a bit farther, “lest the true owner of this horse be peering out the window, yes?”

The flicker of apprehension disappeared from Cay’s face, then, and was replaced with a wicked little smile. “It’s been… a little while… since I’ve been on a horse,” she admitted, even as she allowed him to lift her into the saddle ahead of him.

“Not to worry, Cayrimsa,” Nyx smiled as she situated herself side-saddle, draping both of her legs over one of his, and wrapping her arms around his neck, “It’s all easily enough remembered.” Taking the reins in one hand and curling the other around Cay, he nudged the horse’s flanks with his heels and whispered something in elven that set the beast trotting off up the road.

After a few moments at a leisurely canter, he felt Cay relax a bit. She had fallen into the gentle rocking of the horse’s gait and, cradled as she was between his thighs, had been guided into the subtle cant and shift of body-weight that made the difference between a comfortable ride and saddle sores. “You see,” he smiled, ducking under the brim of her hat to land a quick kiss on her cheek, “nothing to it.”

The pair drew more than one dubious glance as they clattered through the neighborhoods south of the Reyal, of course – the sight of a mith’ganni riding as proudly through the streets as if he were roaming the yet wild plains of Shanurdir was uncommon enough, but that same mith’ganni riding so with a woman in his saddle, nestled against him the way she was, was all but unthinkable – but if those glances or the appalled comments that sometimes accompanied them affected either the assassin or the witch as they made their way northward through the city, neither of them acknowledged it. Other than those brief moments in which he diverted his attentions to adjust course (or in those instances when he perceived something that could potentially be a threat) Nyx’s attentions were focused completely on Cay. He marveled at how she sat so confidently in the saddle ahead of him, her visage devoid of the hateful scowl that so often twisted her features when she moved among the citizenry of Drasnia… she did offer a sneer, from time to time, when some particular gawker caught her attention but, for the most part, when she bothered to look at those they passed at all, Nyx couldn’t help but notice there was an air of confidence about her that was fairly atypical of the Witch of the Wharf… in fact, he thought he might have caught her smiling more than once. It was on one of those occasions, just as their stolen horse took to the Wideway Bridge that would bear them across the Reyal and into the seamier northern part of the city, that Nyx found himself smiling more warmly and obliviously than was normal for him in such public venues, as well, and that realization, instead of prompting him to dampen the expression, simply made him smile all the more.

His hand slid around Cay’s waist, then, and gently pulled her closer to him. When one of her hands moved to rest on his, he nuzzled into her hair and let his fingers slither around hers. The mith’ganni positively beamed when the tip of one alabaster finger traced over the string of blue beads… curiously like the ones that tasseled the curtains in our room… that now graced her wrist. “A souvenir, melamin?” he purred softly, smiling against her ear before, once more, brushing his lips over its scarred tip.

“Perhaps,” Cay murmured coyly in reply as she untangled her hand from his and snaked both of her arms around his neck, again. “You know,” she added mischievously sparkling eyes and a light smile as her embrace tightened a bit, “I thought I told you never to touch me again…”

Nyx blinked (more than once) and then laughed as the arm he had wrapped around her tightened even more and pulled her even closer. “Well, Cayrimsa Etellenya… Lirimaer,” he snickered, “you very well may have but, in the time that you have known me, or known of me for that matter, when have you ever heard it said that Nyx Shyndyn does what he is told?”

Their eyes were locked together, then, just as their smiles were and, even as Nyx tugged on the reins to urge the roan westward once the river had been crossed, so, too, were their lips... It was a kiss – lasting for longer than it took the stolen horse to traverse an entire block of the northern riverfront – that bespoke more than the just long repressed desire or the fervent hunger of that passion finally unleashed as had many of their other kisses to this point; this kiss told the tale of long separated souls at last reunited, of kindred spirits that had spent lifetimes searching for one another, and of new beginnings to yet another life in which one’s footsteps would be flanked by the other’s…

The nicer, better maintained edifices of the riverfront gave way in stages to the battered wharves and warehouses that flanked the beaches where the Reyal spilled into the harbor. Those structures, in turn, withered into ramshackle shanty-towns that clung to the edges of the warehouse district on the east and, to the west, the rocky beaches that curved out toward where Drasnia’s lighthouse stood on the low cliffs at the mouth of the harbor. Some distance past the shanty-town, a narrow track branched off from the broader thoroughfare that led to the lighthouse and wound northwards, away from the harbor and towards a copse of old and gnarled trees. That narrow track, once it twisted it’s way beneath the entangled branches of centuries old oaks, revealed, first, erratic piles of debris indicated where the compound’s perimeter walls and outbuildings had once stood – now just heaps of crumbled masonry and rotten timbers, woven through with the creeping vines and twisting roots that had heaved and pulled the structures down, and dotted with rapidly browning weeds and grasses that had found purchase in the crevices. Then, past a low wall that had obviously been fashioned from materials scavenged from those erratic heaps and topped with a hand-painted sign depicting an intoxicated albatross draped unconscious over an empty keg of ale, was the place that Nyx had referred to as The Albatross and The Alekeg…The remains of the ancient, stone manor house that squatted amidst the sprawling ruins of one of Drasnia’s oldest estates and had, long ago, hidden itself in the tangled grove.

“A much nicer ride than it would have been a walk, yes, melamin,” Nyx smiled softly, reining the horse in just past the wall.

He held Cay a bit tighter as the roan pranced in a tight circle before coming to a stop. Then, having kissed her, once more, loosened his hold and helped her slide from the saddle before dismounting, himself. “Diola lle, mellonamin,” the mith’ganni said, patting the horse on its neck, “Quel andune…” His yellow eyes turned towards the heavens, then, peering through the chaotic weave of branches to regard the gauzy hues of pink, yellow, and orange that the setting sun painted on the sky.

“It promises to be a nice night,” he murmured, tearing his gaze from the sky after a moment. “Perhaps not as nice as the day has been,” he winked, one hand coming to rest on the hilt of his kukri and the other finding a spot at the small of Cay’s back as he ushered her towards the iron-bound planks of thick, rough-hewn wood that was the Albatross’ front door, “but, should the skies stay clear, the stars will surely shine brightly. If we find the time, elen en cormamin, there are some that I would like to show you, later, yes?”

More than one set of eyes turned their way when Nyx pushed the door open and guided Cay into the Albatross’ great room. Most of those turned away quickly enough, satisfied in simply knowing what had caused the door to open. A few lingered for a moment longer than was necessary… perhaps out of some imagined recognition. Others may have been accompanied by a mumbled comment that was drowned in the depths of the ale mug into which it had been spoken or lost in the strains of the exotic music that a trio of minstrels provided from their perch atop the makeshift stage of tables which had been pushed together against one far wall. Even those, though, drifted away after a moment and paid their attentions to concerns more immediate than the arrival of two more patrons. There was only one set of eyes in the place that refused to let loose of the assassin and the witch as they moved from the doorway, slipping through the erratic patches of shadow and smoke-hazed lantern-light that dappled the tavern-hall, towards a small table nestled in an out of the way alcove.

“I mighta knowed ye’d be showin’, Shyndyn,” the ancient looking sailor rasped when Nyx and Cay passed where he hunched on a stool near the middle of the rough, cedar bar. “Alw’ys happ’ns that way, aye,” the old man continued, his sea and spray weathered face twisting with the efforts of climbing down from his seat and keeping a gnarled grip on his mug, as he tottered a few paces behind them, “Th’ storm blows o’er th’ city, an’ them same fell winds come about an’ blows ye in here…”

The old mariner staggered a bit when he tipped his mug to his lips, fell another step behind the pair he was stalking as he paused to steady himself, and then chuckled as he wiped the foam from his tangled whiskers on his sleeve and set foot after Nyx and Cay, once more. “…O’ course,” he continued, catching up with them just as they reached the table, and fixing his murky green eyes on the witch as he did, “th’ lad alw’ys takes th’ shadows wit’ ‘im when ‘e blows back out… Jus’ this’n an’ th’ shadows… Ain’t regul’r fer ‘im ta bring along anoth’r…” He chuckled again, his eyes blinking only once as they slid away from their evaluation of Cay and settled on the mith’ganni beside her, and then, with a grunt and a creaking of old bones, lowered himself into a chair across the table from them both. “Death walks, as they says, but, typical, he walks alone… Makes a bloke wond’r wha’ mighta changed in th’ world as th’ storm churned when typical ain’t so, aye?”

Nyx hadn’t acknowledged the man one way or another since they had arrived… not so much as a nod of recognition or even an irritated, cautioning glare the whole while the man had skittered along behind them… In fact, until the assassin’s moon-colored eyes finally settled directly on the ancient human who now sat on the other side of his table, it would have appeared that Nyx had been completely oblivious to the man’s existence. “For most the world is the same as it was last night, Skjorn,” he said flatly, “Death still walks, alone or otherwise, and those seeking Death still come here to find it, yes?”

“Aye,” Skjorn nodded, “tha’ they does. As I were sayin’, though, t’ain’t typical they’s expectin’ Death in pairs…” His gaze flicked in Cay’s direction, again, then back to the mith’ganni… “Who’s th’ bird, Brother Nyx?”

Nyx scowled at the question and his eyes hardened as they tracked the old mariner’s in that instant. It was a reaction that Skjorn, apparently, hadn’t been expecting because, when met with that narrowed, yellow glare, his heretofore confident if not altogether congenial expression withered a bit and became more than a little apprehensive. “My partner,” the assassin might have well as growled when he finally replied after letting Skjorn twist in his discomfort for a moment, “If you must address her, old man, I would strongly suggest that you do so with respect, hm?”

“Aye,” Skjorn nodded quickly and tipped his mug, once again. When it came away and Skjorn had daubed the foam from his whiskers, the smile that had disappeared from his leathery features had returned. “Aye,” he repeated, “I’ll be sure ta do tha’.

Fergive me, Lady,” the old sailor regarded Cay again, “I’ve had a long day o’ drinkin’ an’ I’ve fergot me manners…”

“You have heard as much as you have drank, I hope,” Nyx interrupted, lifting a hand to silently summon a serving wench.

“I have,” Skjorn returned, “Tha’s how I knew ye’d be showin’ up, o’ course. Had me a slave sneak his way in here last night lookin’ fer someone ta… er… free ‘im o’ his master… if ye take my meanin’.”

“Indeed,” Nyx spiked a brow, “a slave was it?”

"Mmm...Din't carry 'imself like no free elf an' I can't say's that th' bloke 'e named as 'is master'd 'ave no liberated point-ear in' 'is employ..."

"And this master's name?"

"Olsta..."

Posted on 2010-03-17 at 15:59:15.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: New paths, new beginnings (part 1)


The day had been all but burned away by the inferno of their love making and, now, as Nyx and Cay lay curled together in the embers of that passionate conflagration, twilight approached and made the assassin aware that the coming evening and the night, too, could easily be wiled away just like this… They could stay, their naked bodies entwined together and draped in the silken finery of this room, and stoke the embers back to roaring life until they, once more, found themselves spent and Nyx was certain he would be more than content to do just that…


I have promised you more, though, my love, the mith’ganni thought over the sigh he breathed across her skin, and to make good those promises, elen en cormamin, there is much I must do to prepare… He curled tighter around Cay’s slender form, then, pulling her closer to him and savoring one last moment of shared heat and heartbeat before his lips whispered over her skin and he forced himself to let go of her. There is work to be done, and preparations to be made.


Slipping out of the tangled bedclothes, Nyx smirked at the irony of those words even as the thought formed in his mind… Not the work you likely had in mind, is it, O’ Executioner, he challenged his forsaken god, You had other plans for me, yes? And for her… he toed at the silver skull that peered up at him from the tangle of clothing and weaponry at the bedside. You have called for her thread to be severed more than once haven’t you? Wanted her soul for your collections and sought to reap it through me, one way or another. Is that it, Prien? Wanted her dead or enslaved to you just as you have enslaved me all these years…


Nyx’s gaze lifted from the skull-buckle and turned to where the basins of lavender water topped the dresser. A soft smile flickered across his features and he started to go and retrieve one of those basins before continuing on with his bold, internal tirade against his now former ‘master.’ You thought I would never realize that that is what I was, I am certain. And thought you could provoke me into killing her when you understood that she could mean more to me than you, yes? And, even now, you likely believe that I shall bring her to you, do you not?


God or no, my Lord, he mocked the deity with that honorific, now, You shall never hurt her or have her… From myself or anyone else…


“No…”


It wasn’t the word that she had spoken but, instead, the half-strangled tone in which it was uttered and the almost despairing set to her features as she reached out for him that caused him to stop. The initial look of shock on his own face melted through confusion and concern and, finally, softened to a warm reassurance as he took her outstretched hand into his own. No, melamin, his eyes told her as he pulled her to him and folded her in his arms, I am not leaving you… I have been with you far too long to leave you, now… “Shhhhh,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as he absorbed her warmth again. He held her until he felt the trepidation melt away from her and, only then, did he dare let her go again. Even when he did, Nyx’s attentions weren’t refused her… just as he had planned when his gaze had finally fallen on the porcelain vessels of scented water and recognized them for what they were… he bathed her lovingly and attentively.


I’ll never leave you, Cay, his eyes and touch told her as, delicately, he washed the sheen of sweat and musk resultant of their passion from her, nor shall I ever let you go. I have made promises to you and, unlike any other vows I have made, I intend to keep them… Over the past days, Nyx had come to realize his love for Cay, and in the past hours had that love not only affirmed but reciprocated to an extent that he could never have imagined.


“I was wrong, Nyx,” she murmured as he poured and caressed the scented water over her back, her hands reaching around to stop his attentive caresses and draw his arms around her, “this changes everything…” 


“I hope that it does, my love,” he whispered against the skin of her neck as he pulled her close and buried his face in the spill of her auburn tresses, “I have been with you too long, now, and, after this, to have it otherwise…” He held her tightly then and let his lips linger when he kissed the delicate arc where her shoulder met her neck. “…I could not bear it.”


His hand feathered up her belly, then; over her chest and along her neck until it found the line of her jaw whereupon his fingers traced along to her chin and turned her face to his so that he could taste her lips, again. “The thing it does not change, however, is poor Aelion’s fate,” he smiled wickedly after lingering in that kiss for a long moment, “We have tarried away too much of the day for us to hope he will be of any use in our plans. The Emperor’s men have surely ascertained his fate by this late hour…” He kissed her again, turning her in his arms and pulling her tightly against him as he did: “…and, elen en cormamin, if I am to make good on the promises I have made you, we shall need to find another path before Dmitrova has the chance to suspect our schemes, hmmm?” Cay lifted herself on her toes, then, and kissed him, smiling more brightly than he had ever seen.



Posted on 2010-03-07 at 16:33:43.
Edited on 2018-11-20 at 13:21:35 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: RDInnsider - The March Issue Is Here!
Subject: Not at all...


...just didn't want you to think I was neglecting my musely duties, luv.

What is this applaud thing you speak of?

Posted on 2010-03-07 at 00:01:13.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: ....


Room

Posted on 2010-03-06 at 23:49:11.

Topic: RDInnsider - The March Issue Is Here!
Subject: Well...


...of course, I downloaded it! As if you had to ask.

Wonderful work, as always, Meri-luv!

Posted on 2010-03-06 at 23:44:27.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Hmmmm...


...Eol?

Posted on 2010-03-06 at 13:40:40.

Topic: Hello all!
Subject: Hey! It's Jheherren!




Welcome aboard, Innmate! Ever so glad to have you wandering our hallowed halls! We hope you find whatever it is you're looking for hereabouts and stick with us... we just looooooove growing our family, round here, you know?

Anyhoo, as Meri and Raven have already pointed out, all of us staff-type odd-balls are always available to answer questions, help you out, etc, and, of course, our non-staff-type odd-balls are pretty darn handy, too, so, if you need anything, don't hesitate to fire off a PM, tack up a post, buy Eol a captain and coke, or whatever.



Posted on 2010-03-06 at 13:22:40.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Ummm...


...tawdry

Posted on 2010-03-05 at 18:53:17.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Mmmmmm....


....Miss Wil.... *swoon*

We's hopin' that li'l Jimmy gets a bit o' come-uppance fer offendin' Ma! Mebbe he c'n get arrested fer bein' a pretty boy and hoggin' up valuable cargo space on Roc with his "companion-scale" collection of Samsonite?

Posted on 2010-03-05 at 18:49:28.

Topic: Auguries of Destruction - The Clock Tower
Subject: Yeah... and how many of that


An animalistic growl rumbled in Bas’ chest and rose into his throat as the blue door swung away to reveal the peculiar room beyond. The growl’s volume increased as the Feral’s lips split into a snarl – his incisors seeming to lengthen and sharpen a bit with the action – and his fingers curled around the grip of the shotgun beneath his coat when he caught sight of the phantom conductor…

“Helloooo-ooo,” Guin called, peeking around him to look into the room as the conductor faded into nothingness, “anybody home?”

…Bas’s snarl diminished a bit as the tiny girl stepped around him and into the room but the growl still rumbled in his throat, low and distrusting, as the dissipation of the phantom left the curiousness of the creature… Cuz she sure as hell don’t smell human… that he assumed was ‘the seer’ in its place.

“Welcome to my velvet room,” the seer intoned from behind her strange mask, gesturing gracefully to the chairs across the table from where she was seated, “Please, take a seat if you wish.”

Bas’ wolfen glare regarded, then ignored the proffered seat, traveled a quick, scrutinizing circuit around the room (both to inspect the strange décor and to verify that there were no immediate threats) and then fixed on the seer, once more as he stalked a few steps more into the chamber. He almost reached out a hand to stop Guin as she rushed past and, apparently, without thinking anything of what the consequences might be, offered a hand to the peculiar creature…

“Hi, I’m Guinevere,” the little spirit chirped in that strangely perky way of hers, “and this is my friend, Sebastian. Our train just blew up.”

…The seer, fortunately, didn’t accept the offered handshake, instead offering something akin to a bow in response, so Bas let Guin go for the moment. He kept his grip on the butt of the shotgun, though, and let a finger rest on the trigger…

"I've been called many names,” the voice behind the mask said, introducing itself with a name as Guin had introduced them, “but right now you can call me Rena.”

“How about the name of your, soul,” Bas’ growled softly, “Seems to me that was the requirement for us to get off the train in this town… Same rules don’t apply to you or what?”

And yes,” the seer continued, addressing the little-spirit’s additional statement, “I know... I could hear the explosion from here, after all.”

“From here,” Bas asked dubiously, not entirely certain that the ghostly image of the conductor from just a moment ago was just coincidence, “or from there? What the hell’s goin’ on in this place… lady?”


Posted on 2010-03-05 at 18:43:16.
Edited on 2010-03-07 at 00:10:11 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Well...


...there it is... a day late and a dollar short, perhaps.

It is a post, though, and I think I'm back in Dash's head, now... it'll get better.

Posted on 2010-03-05 at 16:49:16.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Howdy


Between the Kid stayin’ behind to play lawman and the way it set Ma off, the wave from Tink that went and set his twitchy to twitchin’ more than usual, and all them suits skitterin’ about all greenhorn like, eatin’ up the food, takin’ up space, and suckin’ up oxygen that Sam was convinced was entirely wasted on more than one of ‘em, the days in the Black between Regina and Beylix hadn’t done Sam’s disposition much good. Even so, the pilot figured he’d done a pretty ruttin’ good job at keepin’ himself on an even keel… hadn’t even thrown that annoyin’ Jimmy kid the proper beatin’ he deserved when he went and hurt Trish’s feelin’s… but now they had set to port in Beylix and were baby-sittin’ them suits on a trip to the Sheriff’s Office…

Sam hated Beylix. Gorram junkyard of the ‘Verse. The rock where he once thought he’d finally manage to slip the Alliance (or whoever the wang bah duhn as wanted him kilt was) and get a handle on a decent livin’ with no worries of wakin’ up dead. It hadn’t worked out that way, of course. They had found him here, too, and gotten close enough that Sam got himself into a desperate hitch to burn atmo… and ended up with Wyatt and Rocinante…

“…Let me say that you couldn’t find a more…ah…dedicated lawman as a sheriff. You want coffee?”

Sam lingered close to the door when they had entered the Sheriff’s, his gaze perpetually skimming the place with a scrutiny derived of practice and paranoia, thumbs hooked loosely in his gunbelt so as his pistol wouldn’t be far from hand if the mi tian gohn hit the fan. He caught the Cap’s glance and nodded before scanning the room again. “I still hate this ruttin’ dump,” he grumbled despite an almost nostalgic smirk that had scrawled itself across his scruffy features.

”Chou shen mao dai gu xiang.”

Dash’s smirk twisted a bit and his gaze ticked to the tall, mustached fellow that was currently enjoying the hospitalities of Newhouse’s Graybar Hotel. He was all set to make some wise-alec comment about the guy having been arrested for dressin’ to fine for Beylix when he noticed the look of stunned-recognition on Wyatt’s face… It was more than just an ‘Hey, I know you’ expression, too… More like a seen-a-ghost-long-lost-family-holy-s**t-what-the-hell-are-you-doin’-here thing… and it was enough to get Dash to bite his tongue and spike a curious brow instead.

“Fate Gwai Ma Jeow, Sam ,” Wyatt muttered.

“Th’ bitch’s gotta way o’ doin’ that, Cap,” Dash nodded, his gaze ticking between the prisoner, the lawman, and the Captain as Wyatt smiled and strolled towards the cell.

”Rung Tse Fwo Tzoo Bao Yo Wuo Muhn! (Merciful Buddha protect us!) If it ain’t Mr. Andrew Bowman,” Wyatt drawled easily enough stopping a couple of paces from the bars so as not to provoke a reaction from the lawman, the smile still on his face. Tilting the brim of his hat back to reveal his eyes and forehead, he glanced back at Sam. “This here’s one of the last people I’d ever expect to find in a ruttin’ jail cell, Sam. Andrew’s about the most honest Wong Ba Duhn I’ve ever met.”

“I was figgerin’ as he got put in the pokey fer them fine duds, Cap,” Dash grinned, offering a shrug, “This is Beylix, after all, puhn yoh. Folks been hanged round here fer a lot less, I’m bettin’.”

He offered Andrew a nod and an amicable twitch of a grin; “Pleezdameetcha, Andy.”


Posted on 2010-03-05 at 16:35:37.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: You thought I was gonna say card, huh?


Moment

Posted on 2010-03-05 at 15:40:01.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Ooooooooooooooo!!!!!


^ One, two, kangaroo, seven

< kangerocerous, sprinkler, fire-engine, eleventy-shwelve

V Look! A unicorn!

Posted on 2010-03-05 at 15:36:17.

Topic: Fates of Fortune Art
Subject: Iiiiiiiiiiiii......


...LIKE it!



Posted on 2010-03-05 at 15:34:12.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Moseyin' on in!


Dash will have a post up by tomorrow evening if it kills me!

Sorry for the lag, gang... Between being unable to access the Inn from work (not to mention recently being promoted to Help Desk "Manager" and having all that extra nonsense dumped in my lap to stifle freetime) and other RL considerations getting in the way I've been "on an Inn jones" for the last couple of weeks. I think I've poked a hole in the pile, though, and can finally see out some. I'm pretty sure I can manage once a week from here on out.


Posted on 2010-03-04 at 01:46:29.

Topic: The Game
Subject: It's like you know...


...when I'm about to show up... and you post here just because you know it'll make me look...

Now I've loosed some more! And I can't even have a cheeseburger!

Posted on 2010-02-25 at 22:05:46.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: LOL


I was humming/singing Roger's musical re-cap all day, yesterday. I love those things.

Hoping to have a Dash post for you all very soon...

Posted on 2010-02-24 at 12:30:03.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: Rewinding to just before I broke my jaw would be good...


^ Cutie-patooty

< Tooty-frooty

V Sheik Djabooti (Or Shake Yer Booty as you see fit).

Posted on 2010-02-20 at 16:49:58.

Topic: Get To Know Your Inn Mates!
Subject: Hmmm...


Favorite vaction destination: The Adirondack Mountains

Favorite Vegetable: Cucumbers, probably

Favorite Ice Cream: Strawberry.

New Question: Favorite "hobby" (aside from the Inn, of course)?

Posted on 2010-02-20 at 16:45:58.

Topic: The Game
Subject: Well...


...it's not whether you win or lose (which I just did, again), it's how you play "The Game".

Sorry that stalking me gets you into trouble, Meri-luv... But it sure is fun, isn't it?

Posted on 2010-02-20 at 16:42:46.

Topic: Last one to post wins - Part II
Subject: Tika...


*purrrr-rrr-rrr-rrrrr* I've got a thing for red-heads... sue me.

Raistlin = Bad@$$!!!

But, when it comes right down to it, Tas had to be my all time favorite in the Dragonlance chronicles.

Posted on 2010-02-20 at 01:20:43.

Topic: The Game
Subject: ;)


Something wicked this way comes... oh.. wait... It's just Eol...

I losed again and I'm starting not to care...

Posted on 2010-02-20 at 01:18:26.

 
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