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[My Name is Immaterial]

"Sure, I'll be Couloir, you be Écosse."

Alban raises an eyebrow in confusion, and then breaks out in a smile, as he gets the joke, or at least pretends to.
((I think I get it; it's a joke about England, right? I don't speak French, so I'm afraid it's going over my head.))

"I assume 'Ostriches' have good aim, then, whatever those are." Katrine quips, stepping back from the table.

Alban laughs as he lines up his next shot. "Ha! Hardly."

"The World I grew up on just has a lot of big bugs. A big rock wiped out all the major life about the time of all the Dark Plagues on Old Mother*...no ostriches, but we shot and grilled anything with 6 legs or more. How many legs does an Ostrich have?"

"You're really from the bled, aren't you? Ostriches only have two legs."

[Dwarmin]

"Sure, I'll be Couloir, you be Écosse."

Alban raises an eyebrow in confusion, and then breaks out in a smile, as he gets the joke, or at least pretends to.
((I think I get it; it's a joke about England, right? I don't speak French, so I'm afraid it's going over my head.))

((OOC:

Albion (Ancient Greek: Ἀλβιών) is the oldest known name of the island of Great Britain. Today, it is still sometimes used poetically to refer to the island. The name for Scotland in the Celtic languages is related to Albion: Alba in Scottish Gaelic, Alba (genitive Alban, dative Albain) in Irish, Nalbin in Manx and Alban in Welsh, Cornish and Breton. These names were later Latinised as Albania and Anglicised as Albany, which were once alternative names for Scotland.

Honestly, that joke was probably above my characters intelligence score ))

...

"You're really from the bled, aren't you? Ostriches only have two legs."

"I'll be sure to shoot an Ostrich next time I see one just to count for myself.

Anyway-go on, make your shot, highlander." She said, doubling down on the joke he was probably still trying to puzzle out.

((Double OOC: Now you'll have to tell me what the bled is, assuming it's common lingo.))

[Stirk]

((...Derp. Time to cover my tired tracks.))

With the influx of chattering workers crowding the bar, sitting in a quiet misery became increasingly harder. Finishing his drink, Brian turns at the sound of previously neglected pool tables put to use. Maybe the night won't be a waste after all.

The larger group arrived just now, look like co-workers, might be regulars here. If so they might be good, or at least better than him, and are certainly sober. Maybe check in when they have more drink in them.

The other, smaller, group was also uncertain, but for other reasons. The woman he knows was drinking when he got here, and she made no secret of her foul mood. He didn't notice the man, though looking at him, wonders how, is a "distinct" fellow put politely. Might be easier to beat, but carries a greater risk of violence.

Having more confidence in his skills in a fight than his skills at pool, he settles on the smaller group, though maybe get some help. He grabs his bag and approaches another man at the bar, he looks relaxed, slowly sipping wine.

"'scuse me, any good at poker? How do you feel about taking some drunks money?" he said while gesturing towards his targets. "I can handle them if it gets ugly, but would rather have backup."

"I'm hardly in the mood to work tonight. Whatever pitiful sum you pilfer from the pockets of anyone in here is hardly worth pillaging my perfectly planned peaceful night."

The man takes a deeper gulp from the wine glass, without looking up from his position.

"What do you hope to gain? Fifty livre? A hundred? Such a scanty sum isn't worth turning my head for, let alone turning from my drink to encourage this endeavor. If you let your sights sink that low, your ambition abates away to nothing. You'll become small fry if you aren't already, and certainly will remain so if you are in the first place. I am a man of big things. Small things aren't worth my attention."

[Dwarmin]

((....I thought you were speaking French that whole time :-/?))

((Welcome to the future.

Also, cain12 is trying to talk to your character I think.))

[Stirk]

((....I thought you were speaking French that whole time :-/?))

((Welcome to the future.

Also, cain12 is trying to talk to your character I think.))

((You just had to ruin everything by quoting my nonsense post :0. I mean what are you talking about that never happened.))

[Cain12]

"I'm hardly in the mood to work tonight. Whatever pitiful sum you pilfer from the pockets of anyone in here is hardly worth pillaging my perfectly planned peaceful night."

The man takes a deeper gulp from the wine glass, without looking up from his position.

"What do you hope to gain? Fifty livre? A hundred? Such a scanty sum isn't worth turning my head for, let alone turning from my drink to encourage this endeavor. If you let your sights sink that low, your ambition abates away to nothing. You'll become small fry if you aren't already, and certainly will remain so if you are in the first place. I am a man of big things. Small things aren't worth my attention."

Brian grimaces at the response, not a regular farmer then, or maybe just one more drunk than he had thought.

"Sounds a fair enough sum for most, bout a days wage for a farmhand like yourself? Or I suppose I pegged you wrong, mister Big-things. I'm hardly in a position to turn opportunities, big or small, away at the moment. If you see a better one in your drink then I'm all ears."

[Stirk]

"If you are satisfied with a day's pay, then get a job. You'll live longer."

The farmer finishes off the last of his wine, holding the glass upside down and examining the inside to insure he didn't miss a drop. He then sets the empty glass on the bar, next to the money used to pay for it. He then walks out of the building, pausing momentarily to let out parting words.

"But if you are truly interested in something bigger, come to the spaceport tomorrow at high noon. Bring friends."

[My Name is Immaterial]

((OOC:  -snip-))

((Oh, that's good. As he knows nothing about Gaelic, this is going over his head. ))

"I'll be sure to shoot an Ostrich next time I see one just to count for myself."

"I think you might have some trouble with that; the only time I've seen one in person was in a zoo, back home. I don't think that they'd let you shoot it."

"Anyway-go on, make your shot, highlander." She said, doubling down on the joke he was probably still trying to puzzle out.

The awkward half laugh he gave belied how little he got the joke, before doubling down himself on his French accent, "You know, Mademoiselle Couloir, I'm not a rosbif. Careful, lest you tempt my Gallic spirit to answer such an insult!"

((Double OOC: Now you'll have to tell me what the bled is, assuming it's common lingo.))

((According to Google Translate, 'bled' means 'boondocks', which was the closest I could get to 'boonies'/'backwoods'.))

[Cain12]

Watching the stranger exit, Brian is left standing by the bar, face once again contorted in thought. Shady fellow, not trustworthy in the slightest, but possibly the opportunity he was looking for. What pushes him from considering to accepting this strangers challenge is the money on the table, and confirmation from the barkeeper that it was indeed for the one drink. He would at least hear him out.

That decided, the next part became more relevant, friends, not something Brian can claim to really have, certainly not on this rock. Thus the task posed was to make some by noon tomorrow and convince them to join him.

That in mind he once again cast his eyes to his surroundings. The farmers maybe, though they might be hard to pull away from steady work on a word from some stranger they met in a bar. Some younger ones, might be looking to escape a life of menial labor, however they too are dismissed, dredges up memories he'd rather stay buried. The pool players then, they stuck out, might be less attached, he can at least take their money if it doesn't pan out.

As he turns to the pool table another figure catches his eye at the bar, big beast of a woman, also watching the game, he thinks, has a messed up face. Doesn't look happy with her lot, not that he can really tell, might as well try her. Taking a free seat by the woman (the other patrons had naturally given her space) and putting on his friendliest smile, he said:

"I'm planning to join those two once their game is over, care to join me? Either way, wouldn't mind some company while I wait."

((OOC: Am I taking too many liberties with the surrounding details/events in my posts?))

[Dwarmin]

((OOC: Am I taking too many liberties with the surrounding details/events in my posts?))

((OOC: We literally have no input from the GM in setting things up, so we have to take liberties. It's not a problem IMO.))

"I think you might have some trouble with that; the only time I've seen one in person was in a zoo, back home. I don't think that they'd let you shoot it."

"Everyone has to answer to the law." She said, completely deadpan. If only to keep from bursting out in laughter. Well, the night had gotten slightly better.

The awkward half laugh he gave belied how little he got the joke, before doubling down himself on his French accent, "You know, Mademoiselle Couloir, I'm not a rosbif. Careful, lest you tempt my Gallic spirit to answer such an insult!"

"It's only an insult if you don't where it came from...." She sighs theatrically, putting on a scholarly air. "My great~grand mother was from the core. I spent alot of my formative years in her care while my parents worked the rock. She taught me alot about Earth, most of it fairy tales about places that don't exist anymore, but some stuff stuck-like names. Your name, for example-Alban, it's close to old Albania...which is a variant of Albion...which is another name for the Ancient Scotland. I'm not great at wordplay, but I'm good at connecting things, you know? It was what I did as a living, before...all this.

I do hope your honor is satisfied." Katrine commented, smiling.
 

[My Name is Immaterial]

Alban threw his head back and laughed, steadying himself with his pool cue. "You're-heh- not half as good at connecting things as you-ahaha- think! You just called a Frenchman an Englishman!" He stopped for a moment to heave wth laughter. "My honor is miffed, but satisfied." If his eyes weren't cold metal, they'd be twinkling. He misses his next few shots thanks to laughter, which begins to fade, as he notices two people watching their game.
Nodding towards the pair, the hulking woman, and the older man, he muttered to Hall, "Looks life we have an audience. Shall we give them a show?"

[Dwarmin]

Nodding towards the pair, the hulking woman, and the older man, he muttered to Hall, "Looks like we have an audience. Shall we give them a show?"

"...I suppose they'll introduce themselves when they're ready. Probably by trying to mug us, when we go take a piss in the alleyway." She said softly, sarcastically, setting up her next shot. "Wouldn't that be a stupid thing for them to do? Fun, though."

She sounds absolutely eager for them to try.

Katrine knocks her next shot, pretty much perfectly.

"What sort of show did you have in mind, anyway?"

[My Name is Immaterial]

"...I suppose they'll introduce themselves when they're ready. Probably by trying to mug us, when we go take a piss in the alleyway." She said softly, sarcastically, setting up her next shot. "Wouldn't that be a stupid thing for them to do? Fun, though."

She sounds absolutely eager for them to try.

Alban grins at the thought, and waves at the pair.

"What sort of show did you have in mind, anyway?"

He pulls out a 1lv note, and throws it onto the table. "Let's up the ante. That says that you can't a ball after the cue ball rebounds off two other balls first."

[Stirk]

((Just for the record, I left the bar. Mostly to do some legwork to make sure we actually have something to do ))

[GiglameshDespair]

The big beast of a woman with the messed up face looked up from her rum at being talked up.
For a moment, she was surprised, before she shrugged languidly.
"...Sure. If you're tryin' to  trick me for something, though, I'll beat you until you piss blood. Fair warning."
Her french was coarse, with a heavy german accent, slurred slightly by her facial damage.

She angled her head slightly as one of the pool players waved at them, but otherwise didn't move for now.
"Olga. You?"