Day 061: Branwada Skaikru, Part Two
Summary: The adventures of idiot Skaikru trying to impress in a Trikru pub continue. A dubious upgrade from dishwater is offered, and the two end up turnt.
Date: 29 July 2016
Related: Takes place one month after Branwada Skaikru and the night before The Mountain Falls (Level 7). Also references Potential for More.
Asher Cassandra 

The Pub — TonDC, Trikru

This public house is a mixed construction of old Earth brick walls and new Trikru metal. The entrance is from a preexisting structure — perhaps an old church based on the double-wide doors and steepled roof. It leads into a sprawling area that is far longer than it is wide. A long metal countertop runs the length of the room against a brick wall, and old stained glass windows are neatly spaced behind it, letting in color streams of light when the sun is high. Behind the countertop are shelves kept low of old bottled distilled alcohol and wooden casts of wheat beer and honey wine. The stools and seating at the bar are random and mismatched, and not all of them comfortable.

Opposite of the bar and at the back are the two newer walls made of metal and stone framing. The windows on this wall are cut roughly and inlaid with salvaged glass. The rest of the room is filled with random tables and chairs, creating various sized arrangements. Their is a door in the back wall that leads to the boarding rooms, and the shared common area for those using the public house for longterm stay.

61 Days After Landing

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Cassandra=persuasion-2 Vs Bartender=7
< Cassandra: Good Success (7 2 2 1 7 1 5) Bartender: Good Success (6 7 5 6 8 4 3)
< Net Result: DRAW

Having been put up in the Healing House by her mentor – with limited results – Kasandra kom Skaikru decided a break from the presence of sick people was needed, and came to find Asher in order to spend some quality time. At his suggestion, they soon make their way to the public house, where guestright and tenuous war-bonding camaraderie will allow them to be served just as the locals are… in theory. She pulls his arm around their shoulders as they wander through the village, because supposedly the crude herbal remedies she's on work better with body-heat, or something.

Upon entry, it's clear she's been her before. The bartender recognises her instantly, sending a shit-eating grin her way and calling out, "Ah! Branwada Skaikru!" By the look on his face, that's likely a term of endearment of some kind, and she flashes him a polite smile in return. Cassandra is nothing if not polite in the presence of Trikru. She glances around for friendly familiar faces, but finding none, she lets her eyes settle back on Asher's, askance.

Not being a regular in TonDC, Asher is not recognized by anyone, nor is he well known. He is wearing his standard clothes, somewhat remedied by seamstresses (the regular kind, not the other kind). He does have some grounder armor, but has chosen not to wear it around in public, which was likely wise. Really, Asher needs Guard armor, which militia apparently don't warrant. Real fair.

"They know you here?" Asher had put his arm around Cassandra at her bidding, and still has it around her as they enter the pub. He arches a brow and nods a bit. "Not bad…" Apparently he hasn't been here yet. "What's good?"

"No idea," Cassandra admits to Asher quietly. "Last time I was here they served me dishwater. Literally. I spent most of the following morning throwing up." Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea. She neglected to mention all this before they came to the decision. Since Asher is obviously Skaikru, and the bartender just called her out as one publicly, they get a fair few stares as they make their way through; not all of them friendly. She nonetheless leads them onwards to the bar, still smiling at the server who last time tried to poison her.

"<In Trigedasleng> What is good?" Cass asks, miming a drinking motion to make it clear that the question is not meant to be existential. She then holds up two fingers, pointing between her and Asher.

Thoughtfully rubbing his chin, the bartender answers, "Branwada ou woda." Despite his amusement at her expense, he doesn't seem too willing to provide better service than last time.

This is off to a good start…Asher raises a brow at Cassandra's admissions that she drank dishwater. A glance is spared for the bartender, then back to Cassandra. "Fuck, seriously? Dishwater?" At least it wasn't actual poison, or he'd be going off to find the perpetrator.

He frowns as she speaks in Grounder talk. He still only knows how to introduce himself. "What's Branwada mean?" he glances from Cass to the bartender. "And…ou woda…What do those mean?" He could have just asked what the whole thing means.

The bartender, not being a warrior, does not speak Gonasleng. He just gives Asher a big, stupid grin, then turns to one of the larger, stoic regulars and says something too rapid for even Cassandra to keep track of. They both then chuckle heartily at the Skaikru's expense.

"Means dishwater," Cassie explains to Ash aside. "Also means dumbass, I think. Woda just means water." Pausing a moment, she suggests, "Uh… try telling them you're a warrior or something?" She pulls his arm off her shoulders, and pointedly prods at his bicep.

<FS3> Asher rolls Finesse+Finesse: Failure. (6 3 6 4 6 6 4 2)
<FS3> Asher rolls Brawn+Brawn: Good Success. (7 6 4 8 1 1 3 5)
<FS3> Asher rolls Persuasion: Failure. (5 2 6 2)

Asher has been a long time believer in actions over words. He doesn't really tell people things about himself. He just does things. So he pulls out the grounder knife at his hip, though he fidgets with the tie that keeps it secured for a few moments and then slams it blade-first into the bar-top, with a thud. It sinks deeper than intended, and it's going to take some heft to pull it out. Asher fixes his icy stare on the bartender. "Gimme a drink. Not dishwater." A beat pause, and he looks to Cassandra and then the bartender. "I'm a warrior." Helpful!

Well, that certainly makes an impression. The bartender looks to Asher, then to his regular, whose stony eyes are fixed on the knife the Skaiboy has slammed into the countertop. The regular does speak Gonasleng, although that may not be clear. "Sha," the bartender eventually decrees, giving a solemn nod of his head. "Won tika." With that he turns his back to the pair, fetches a pint glass for each of them, and produces a bottle of clear liquid to fill up both. Cass, next to Asher, carefully prises his knife from the bar – with some difficulty – and with her free hand, politely dusts off the mark it's made in the wooden surface.

The bartender is not long, soon setting the two glasses down in front of the two Skaikru with a grim smile. "<In Trigedasleng> Enjoy," he says, and Cass turns to raise her brows at Asher. Tentatively, she reaches out to claim her glass.

"Cheers," she says, raising it in toast. Whatever's in store for them, she didn't shy away from drinking branwada, and she won't shy away from drinking this.

Well, Asher can't very well NOT drink it now that he got them to pour it. Unfortunately for him, he has no idea what it is, and he also feels like he wasn't nearly as intimidating as he was hoping. That would have worked well with a bunch of wannabe thugs on the Ark. Here…not as well. Asher glances behind him and then at the bartender, nodding once. "Yeah. Thanks." And then he picks up the pint glass and raises it up to Cass. He clinks it against hers and without hesitating, tilts the glass back to drink from it.

<FS3> Asher rolls Resolve: Good Success. (5 8 1 7 3)
<FS3> Cassandra rolls Resolve-2: Success. (7 3 1 4 1 5)

Cassandra does the same. She does her best to keep a straight face, but after a single gulp, it's clear she doesn't like whatever the heck it is she's drinking. Petrol? She's never tasted petrol, but she imagines that this is what it tastes like. It could also be bleach, given the way it sets her throat on fire, so hopefully it won't corrode their insides. One thing is certain: this stuff is strong – way too strong to be served in a pint-glass. After downing the rough equivalent of a shot glass, she sets it back down, thins her lips in a shaky, solemn manner, and then nods her head to the bartender. "Em ste os," she compliments him, dishonestly.

The first gulp is pretty jarring. This is on par with the moonshine they made on the Ark, only more refined and thus even more potent. It burns down his throat. But Asher won this drink, even if he was going to be taught a lesson for his efforts. He's dealt with worse than a stiff drink, even in these quantities, so, while staring at the bartender, he takes down two more gulps back to back before setting the glass down. He has only a few minutes before that hits his brain and turns him into a rambling drunk. "Not bad…Had stronger up on the ark." It cleaned engines, but it was stronger. His insides burn while he speaks.

"Impressive," says the stony-eyed regular further down on the bar, tipping his hand on the ability to speak English. Asher gets a nod, having earned the respect of at least one warrior around here. "Gon Skaikru," he adds less kindly. The bartender just chuckles at Asher, then reaches out to give him a congratulatory slap on the upper arm.

Cassandra, meanwhile, is being a bit of a girl. Content to live in Asher's shadow, and having taken her first shot of the stuff, she's now trying to imbibe the rest in small, tepid sips, less than half a tongueful at a time. "Good job, Ash," she murmurs.

Asher nods to the regular and then to the bartender. "Thanks." Hopefully next time he'll get something less ridiculous that won't kill him in moments. He is going to be drunk soon. His head already is starting to swim from the triple shot he just took. He leans over to kiss Cassandra on the cheek and whispers, "This shit is awful." And then pulls away. "Good, yeah?" He nods to her drink, just to take some attention off himself. Bastard.

Asher takes a sip, not a gulp this time.

Eyeing Asher aside, Cass gives a subtle nod of her head; not because she's trying to be discrete, but her neck just hurts too much to make firmer gestures than that. Being cauterised by a Grounder has actually made her pain worse rather than better. "Great stuff," she concurs. "Little weak for my tastes, but…" This earns a scoff from the regular patron further down.

She leans in to whisper as well, adding, "Gonna make you pay for this, Ash."

His gaze is unwavering and Asher mouths, 'Bring it,' to Cassandra. He smirks, and takes another sip from the glass. He leans against the bar-top, and runs a hand through his hair. He pauses a moment and considers Cassandra. "You shouldn't be in this next attack. You're still recovering." He clears his throat and takes another sip from the glass. Now that his throat is duly numbed from the initial burning, he doesn't notice the effects of the booze as much. Of course, these are signs of getting drunk. Good times.

The comment prompts Cassandra to take a longer drink of what she's already had enough of. She's a lightweight, and she's already starting to feel lightheaded, even though she's had enough sense not to drink as much as Asher has. "It's just a flesh-wound," she mutters. "I'm her Second. Oso throu daun ogeda. Where she goes, I go." She doesn't name her First explicitly, because in this environment, she fears that'll earn her a punch to the face. Gideon kom Skaikru is, after all, a traitor to her people.

"Besides." Cassie sets the glass firmly down, fixing her own eyes on Asher's unwavering gaze. "It's not just her."

Asher tilts his head to look at her neck, brow raised. "Turn your head like you'll need to when drawing a bow…" A challenge. Maybe it'll be no big deal. He eyes her glass and then his. "You got some catching up to do…" He doesn't actually take a sip though just now. His brow raises at her last statement. "What? Me?" He frowns at her. "Cass…I'm the guy who goes out there and does dumb shit…Not you. You're the smart one who stays safely at home…You don't need to come and watch me be stupid."

"Safely at home? What am I, your cave-wife?" Cassie doesn't turn her head, but she lifts up her arms to demonstrate the correct pose for holding a bow, with one elbow drawn back against her shoulder and a fist pointed outwards in a straight line. The movement stretches the skin of her neck from her upper arms and sees them quiver just slightly, before she relaxes to take another drink to dull the ache. "Shouldn't have fucked with my head if you didn't want me doing stupid shit," she says over the rim of her glass. "Asshole."

"No, not my cave-wife," Asher asserts, a bit more vocally than he really meant to. He appears indignant for a moment, watches her use the archer's pose. Asher knows next to nothing about shooting a bow, but he knows about pain in the heat of battle. "You shouldn't come out there. You're gonna get hurt." He should talk.

Asher falls silent a moment and takes a sip from his own drink. At least the isn't gulping it down, but even sips will steal away what little amounts of sobriety his mind is clinging to. "How did I fuck with your head?" This is actual confusion. He isn't the one with skills in that area.

"You know what you did," says Cass, likewise with indignity. The first clear sign that she's getting more drunk than she means to is that she's losing her manners – she props her elbows up on the countertop. From the corner, polishing a glass, the bartender watches the pair with amusement as she hunches over her glass, placing a hand over her bandaged neck-wound with a wince. They haven't even started with the real fighting and she already looks defeated, though not from the pain. "I almost kissed Quinn the other day. And then I turned her down."

Apparently Asher managed to mess with her head without really realizing what he'd done. Seriously, this is not an area he has a notable skill with. Asher just calls it like he sees it. So he just gives Cass a blank stare. "Ummmm…ok?" He really has no idea. He watches as she props her elbows on the bar-top. Asher is feeling the effects of the liquor as well, but by volition of size, Asher isn't quite as far gone. That won't last long. "You did, huh?" He pauses and takes a sip from his glass. "Why?"

"Same reason I'm gonna be part of the fight," says Cass. And even now, she isn't drunk enough to spell it out. To correct that, she takes another small sip, culminating in about two shots' worth total that she's downed so far. Peering down at her glass and then his, she asks, "Are you really going to drink all of that?"

"Because I tricked you, with my manly ways?" Asher is definitely tipsy if not drunk. He doesn't talk this way under normal conditions. Asher's glass was already short about three shots from his initial gulps. It is now about another shot down from his sips. Only six-ish more shots to go before the glass is empty. Asher glances to his glass, then Cassandra. "I'm already committed to the cause." That seems irrational.

Cass reaches out to grip Asher's glass, intending to pry it away from him, but she's already drunk, and her movements are haphazard. Her hold on it is light, and she sways as she leans forward towards him. She herself doesn't commit to the cause of separating him from his alcohol. "Because you… fuck," she mutters, frowning bitterly. "You know what you did," she insists, slipping her hand from his glass to rest on his side.

"I tricked you with my manly ways," Asher states again, flexing a bicep and pointing at it. "See?" This is clearly going really well. Asher already wasn't the brightest delinquent to hit the ground. Booze doesn't make him brighter it seems. When she frowns at him, he quirks a brow at her, and then smiles. Because clearly he has hit the nail on the head with the bicep routine. When the glass is released, he takes it up and takes two shallow gulps. Another shot down. Asher sways a bit.

"Because I love you," Cassandra blurts out, saying it, for the first time, in English. She gets to be romantic for about all of three seconds before she's distracted by that bicep, shifting her gaze from his face to his musculature. In fairness, the flexing is probably a big part of why she fell for him in the first place. Girls are dumb. Muscles are nice.

Oh. That. Asher sways and eyes Cassandra. He looks at her staring at his bicep and puts that gun away. The Gun Show is over. He slides an arm around her waist and leans down to kiss her. It is the sort of drunken passionate kiss that comes out of the liquid confidence known as booze. It is also a short kiss. He breaks away, though retains that closeness, and says, "I know…I love you too." See how easy that was?

It's easier for Cassandra with alcohol in her system. She sways into the kiss, closing her eyes since the gun show is sadly over anyway. That helps her focus on being a bit more romantic, although she's still pretty much a filthy animal considering she returns the kiss with ardour. When he pulls away and says the words back (again), she nonetheless gives him a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look.

"I'm cutting you off," she says, slipping a hand away to pull at his pint-glass more deliberately, bringing it in line with hers. Her head turns towards the bartender, and she tells him, "Mochof." Being a fairly decent guy, he doesn't openly make fun of them, but just smirks and nods his head.

"Pro," he replies. Further down the bar, the stony-eyed regular is having a hard time containing his laughter into his beer.

Asher has no idea with Mochof and Pro mean, but he understood being cut off. He has no idea why that happened, because he is ABSOLUTELY fine. No one could be more sober than Asher right now. "Woah, woah, woah…I'm…" He pauses and looks to the glass, then back to Cassandra. "…fine. See?" He nods to her. See what? Hard to tell, since he didn't actually do anything to prove his sobriety.

"'Bout to explode your liver…" Cassandra corrects Asher, on his use of the word fine. It should be noted that she did fairly well in Biology, up on the Ark, and even if her focus is more on Ecology, she is absolutely positive that this is how science works. If you drink too much, your liver explodes. It is known.

"Let's… go somewhere more private." She hops off the bar-stool, reaching out to take his hand and pull him off of his. They are both liable to trip during this process. Fortunately, they needn't pay, since Grounders don't use currency. This is a communal public house, and the staff are paid through other means.

There is a glass of booze over there…Asher stares at it longingly for a few seconds as he's pulled off his bar stool. "Livers don't explode…" he pauses and looks over at the bartender. "Do they?" It's no use, he's already being taken away from this place, off to somewhere more private. Asher has no idea where somewhere more private is, but he's content to let Cassandra lead the way.

"Leidon, Branwada Skaikru!" the bartender calls out, sending the pair an exaggerated wave and a signature grin. They now share that title. Asher definitely earned it.

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