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Post by koala on Oct 27, 2007 23:48:03 GMT -5
The heron started at the female's sudden attention. For a moment, it seemed someone did recognize him. But judging from her present state, it was most likely a state of mistaken identity.
"My name is..." he hesitated. He wished he had a name to give her, but at the moment, all he could think of was that field of asters. "...Astrid. Do you know me?" His voice was smooth and just a little deep, surprisingly; he hadn't talked to anyone since "waking up." He gave a sideways glance to the horse in her company. "Either of you?"
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Post by Kari Muffin on Oct 28, 2007 0:49:28 GMT -5
Loreta blinked a few extra times. What the hell? Hadn't he... wasn't he? Oh God! Had Loreta made a mistake in addressing the male Heron. She could have sworn is was the man she had delivered a message to a few days ago. Crap, crap. He looked so familiar!
"You... you're the guy I gave the message to!" Lore insisted. Her drunken haze was getting harder and harder to see through. "Your Mr...I don't remember your name, but Astrid might be right." She kept her head on the polished bar table. She wasn't going to lift her head up until she absolutely had to.
She tilted her head though, "What's wrong with ya?" She knew something was wrong, even though she couldn't tell what it was. She could have sworn though that she knew him. Maybe she really was mistaken and picked up a complete stranger. Damn, this night would not end well then.
She noticed that her equine companion wasn't particularly please, but she shrugged it off.
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Post by seraaches on Oct 28, 2007 20:04:05 GMT -5
Rai’s ears flicked back at the low voice, wary of the other male’s hesitance and questions. There seemed to be something very much not right with the red bird. His black companion, however, seemed oblivious to the wrongness. Rai decided she really –was- just that much more drunk than he. The world was still threatening to sway, but the stallion abruptly cut himself off the alcohol, drinking some more water to help fight his dehydration by swill beer.
He had no input to add to the ‘conversation’ so far, so he simply sipped his water, ate some bread and kept an eye on the two birds and their conversation. He didn’t think this would end well, but at least he could protect his companion if worse came to worse. The Forest resident was just a Six; surely a Jack of Hearts could take that without fear. Still, he kept an ear cocked towards the conversation.
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Post by koala on Oct 28, 2007 21:08:06 GMT -5
"It's possible, I suppose..." Astrid shrugged. "I truly don't remember." This other heron was putting him on edge. He thought it might be wise to play his cards close to the vest, just in case. "I.... it's been a long day." He felt stupid for coming up with such a weak excuse, but it was the best he could think of. "What is your name, please?"
Astrid strained to guess her name before she gave it, but nothing was coming to mind. He glanced at the horse, almost imploringly, hoping for a hint or clue. He shifted his weight to a readier position. It occurred to him that he might need to get out of there pretty quick.
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Post by Kari Muffin on Oct 28, 2007 23:29:30 GMT -5
She cackled. She hadn't given her his name when they had first met, so what reason did she have to give him her real name at this very moment. "Names are ultimately meanin'less. But ya can call me Lore," she said as her head remained rested on the table. If she lifted it she was going to fall backwards in quite a hurry. Lore was about as much as she could gurgle out, and not many people would put the last syllable on her name.
"The horse is... um..." she looked at the equine's tail. It looked like a whip, and he was a heart. "Lash or some weapo' thingy. Maybe...whip? Cat'o'nine....I don't know." Hopefully he would play along and pick one.
"You look like hell," The bird muttered at the male heron. He didn't look as bad as her, that was for sure. She was a one legged heron wearing a vice after all, she would never let that fact slide. Even if she was drunk she made note that her situation was far worse. "I feel.... I can't feel a thin'."
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Post by seraaches on Oct 29, 2007 0:07:01 GMT -5
”Must be a nice change,” the stallion pointed out dryly, not thinking that the words could easily be considered insulting. Of course, he likely wouldn’t have really cared either way, and Lore, wot an odd name, was in no condition to make a fuss.
”Call me Whip.” It was almost amusing that she had managed to hit upon one of his actual nicknames, however, the concept behind it was rather blatantly obvious. His attention was drawn back to the red bird. The Forest resident didn’t really look all that dangerous, but… one never really knew.
”If you don’t remember,” the horse asked flatly, grey-green gaze appraising. ”Then how did you get here? You’re a long way from home.” Not that the stallion had much room to talk; the Forest of Kahmden and Josiggy Marsh both lined the Hisstor Wastes. But the Jack had reason to be in the Capital; did the Six?
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Post by koala on Nov 1, 2007 10:19:51 GMT -5
"Maybe I was on my way to the capital when thugs attacked me and knocked me unconscious," Astrid suggested. "I can think of any number of scenarios like that, but none of them feels right." The heron sighed, burying his head in his wings. "It's terribly frustrating, I know that much."
Astrid glanced at his new acquaintances.
"Why are the two of you, here?" he asked curiously. "As for me, I thought, maybe, if I was on my way to the capital before, I could find some answers there. Do you think it possible? Do you suppose I could... travel with you for a while?" It occurred to him that maybe this wasn't the best idea. But Astrid was feeling isolated and it depressed him. At least this way, he would have some company. Or get waylaid in a dark ally. Whatever. He couldn't go through his new life being suspicious of everyone. Maybe trusting the first people he came across wasn't the best choice, but at this point, he didn't really care. He decided to stay with them as long as he needed to. Or at least as long as he could.
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Post by Kari Muffin on Nov 1, 2007 12:35:39 GMT -5
Loreta had no idea why anyone would be so confused about what happened to them. Perhaps he had selective amnesia? Hell. She wished she had that every once in a while. But this guy probably hadn't the slightest of what he was doing. And he wanted to travel with her? Of all people?
"I guess you can hang out with me." she said with a head tilt. "I'm just a drunken and angry messenger, but guh--" She suddenly hugged her stomach. There were all the drinks, hitting her like a metaphorical horse and cart.
She had more to say, but she could hardly muster anything coherent out of herself. Her and the whip person had just met each other... if she ended up at his place, that would just be lucky. Hell, if she could see straight that would be even luckier. The heron leaned backwards a bit wobbly, no, she couldn't keep it up. Her head smashed back into the counter top with an unceremonious thud. She was going to feel that later.
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Post by seraaches on Nov 1, 2007 17:47:37 GMT -5
Oh, absolute freakin’ lutely marvelous. The stallion couldn’t react in time to keep the black heron from bashing her head into the counter, and he gave a small, semi-frustrated sigh. He –really- had to stop going out and getting drunk. On a brighter note, he’d made it through, wot, seven? Eight? Beers and his mind was still working… even if the world was beginning to tilt.
”If you’d been bashed on the head,” the horse pointed out evenly, ignoring the bird’s first question; it wasn’t either of the two’s business why he was in the Capital City. ”Your head would hurt as bad as Lore’s.” There was absolutely no way the black bird didn’t have a splitting migraine.
Actually that brought his attention back to her. ”Looks like you need to call it a night,” he pointed out dryly. ”We need to get you home; where do you live?” And here was hoping she’d actually remember after all that alcohol hitting her system at once. At least she’d offered to let the red heron stay with her; Rai didn’t want a roommate.
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Post by Kari Muffin on Nov 3, 2007 17:03:40 GMT -5
The heron was too gone to speak. She knew what was going on, but she had no will or way to convey what she was feeling. Well, all she could feel now was the numb migraine that the blinding bar lights were bringing on.
She gurgled. Not what she wanted to do, but she did. Nope, sorry Whip. No address for you. Stringing together a coherent sentence was now impossible. Loreta looked up at him with pleading eyes and groaned. Her eyes fluttered between opened and closed as she struggled to remain conscious.
She was clinging onto to the crust of sobriety, and failing quite miserably. This was the fastest she had ever gotten drunk. Then again, she had only had more than two beers twice in her life. Well, at least she had wasted away the hours. Hopefully she would wast a few more--how she was not sure. Hopefully she would be able to keep her wits about her... but that was not working well.
Ugh.
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