(Untitled)

[intotheblue]

A pub, hm? Many people were coming in and out of this particular portal, so Balthier decides to investigate.

Finally having found a clothing shop (that accepted Gil... hm) in the Nexus, Balthier is dressed in what he regards as perhaps the most plain, undignified outfit he's ever had to wear -- a simple white button-up shirt, black slacks and a

Comments

[silver_sky_fran]

Oh, of course a seven foot tall bunny girl with a great rack Viera isn't going to get noticed in London. Surely not!

"...This place does not feel like an inn."

[intotheblue]

No, most certainly not!

And even though the H.D. Hollister's patrons are used to seeing guys in power armor, mages, and all manner of brooding, scowling anti-heroes, it seems Fran is getting noticed. For better or worse.

"Not really, no," Balthier says, instinctively scooting over to give her a place to sit on the bench, "This food is all very peculiar. I only recognize the bread. It doesn't look very appetizing."

[silver_sky_fran]

"What language is this, on this menu? It doesn't read like Hume to me."

Fran does not like not being able to read the available literature, thank you very much. Although a picture of a grilled steak...

"...There is dead meat on this menu. Long dead meat. Barbaric."

[intotheblue]

Balthier wrinkles his nose.

"I don't understand it, either. It looks more like... numbers."

The waiter returns, and inquires about the order -- after stopping for a moment to glance at the bunny ears.

"I'll have a mug of wine and a plate of bread. And... something that you've killed within the week, if that's possible. Rare, please."

The waiter gives pause, then nods and turns to Fran, clearly not sure how to handle this whole thing.

[duskillusion]

There's something of instant comedy about a man with no visible face walking into a bar, but Dusk himself gives no indication that he's aware of the irony. He wanders in and, after soundlessly making his way to the bar and having a low-voiced conversation with the bartender, shrugs and makes his way to one of the smaller, more shadowed tables near the wall.

Coincidentally, that puts him quite close to Fran and Balthier's table. He nods courteously. "Good evening."

[intotheblue]

Very peculiar about this Nexus -- many people with no faces. He leans back and crosses his feet under the table.

"How do you do?"

[duskillusion]

Yes, it's a funny thing, that. "Well, thank you. I thought I'd do some exploring, and I hadn't stopped in at the famous Hippolyta Hollister's bar, yet. Have you been in the Nexus long?"

[oldman_slimy]

"You should try the wings," comes a voice from behind Balthier. "I'm sure I'm the sixtieth to tell you this. They're well-known around here."

[intotheblue]

((We'll put this before Fran arrives.))

Balthier looks up, then back to the menu.

"Ribs, eh? Ribs of what?"

He's trying to locate the picture that may go along with this order, since haha, can't read.

[oldman_slimy]

"You do need help. Wings, man! Wings of poultry!"

A coin-shaped thing is flipped onto Balthier's table, and a hologram of a (live) chicken is produced. "Grilled and spiced."

[intotheblue]

Wings. Wings OF?

The only thing where he comes from that have wings even approaching digestable size are baby cockatrices... and even those would feed a family of eight for a day. So yep, up goes an eyebrow.

"What a small bird. I trust they're of quality, then?"