PSL starter - educated_wish

[just_cursed]

How, exactly, Logan got to the world of the Bright City was anyone's guess. The TVA? The Watchers? America Chavez's powers? Magic? The Convergence? An Infinity Stone? Death? (And that's just the MCU!)

How he got to the Jingled Cleric, however, was one hundred percent obvious: it was a dive bar. Okay, a dive bar full of elves, half-elves, one robot in a veil, a couple of dwarves, and various other fantastical creatures - not excluding the black-eyed blond slinging drinks from behind the bar itself - but a dive bar nonetheless.

Welcome to the Bright Country, Logan, where the gods are loved almost as much as they love their people! So long as those people are the Right Kind of People, anyway.

Comments

[educated_wish]

He's noticed that about the gods. If he were a different kind of person, he'd take advanage of that and his powers to elevate himself to the status of one. Get himself worshipped and shit. But he's not that kind of person, so he just ends up skulking into said bar, pounding on the counter to ask for a drink.

He's been through the whole events with Wade. He's had his redemption. But he still frequently gets depressed and he still frequently looks for his answers at the bottom of a bottle. And today is no different.

"Barkeep," he says. "Strongest shit you've got, Bub."

[just_cursed]

"Alright." says Zelanes, pulling out a bottle and pouring a shot, "Cave Breath it is. You'll need to sign a waver if you're going to drink more than one, however. It keeps me out of trouble with the guard."

This isn't even a Zelanes only thing. This is absolutely an every-bar-with-Cave-Breath thing.

...I just now got the notif wtf?

[educated_wish]

"Fuck waivers," Logan says. He's not signing anything. But he's also not stopping at one, as he downs the shot and then tries to take the bottle itself.

No worries, I just assumed the week ate you!

[just_cursed]

"No, no." Zelanes snags the bottle back and holds it close, "Waver. I am not going to jail if someone - by which I mean you - gets drunk enough to dance naked in the blessed mother's quarter. Again." Whether again meant someone dancing naked again, or Zelanes himself going to jail again, he did not explain.

With the bottle still against his chest he said, "It's not much of a waver. It just says that you take the blame for your drunken behavior and don't blame the bartender."

that too tbh!

[educated_wish]

"Fuck." Logan rolls his eyes. "Fine, give the bastard here." He wiggles his fingers to indicate he'll accept it if handed over.

"Did someone actually do that?"

So it's all good :)

[just_cursed]

He passed the paper, the pen, and the bottle over. In that order.

"Oh, only about half the people who drink this stuff. Cave Breath is hard." He looks at the bottle with respect, "I'm not exactly a lightweight, but one is my max. Gnomes."

[educated_wish]

"What the hell is a gnome?" Logan is a lot of things but he's not very educated, especially when it comes to this new world he's entered. "Sounds useless, but if they made this, I'll thank them."

He takes the bottle after signing and starts draining it in one, long gulp.

[just_cursed]

This is the expression of someone who has never, in his entire life, had to explain gnomes before. "Small people with a fascination for...wow...you're...really draining that, huh?" Zelanes makes some frantic motions behind his own back, leading to a Warforged wearing a veil over their lower face to bring the emergency kit. The bartender is expecting a stroke.

Gnomish whiskey is rough.

[educated_wish]

Logan finishes the bottle and makes a face of someone who's both physically and mentally processing what they've just tasted. He shakes his head and slaps his cheeks after dropping the bottle to the ground.

"Got any more?"

...he definitely isn't smart.

[just_cursed]

"I mean...you did sign the waver. However as a concerned sapient, I need to ask if you are alright." He is serious about the question, "I mean that on an emotional level as well as a physical one, because...I don't know what race you are, but I've never seen someone who can go more than three rounds with Cave Breath."

Not that he's not, you know, passing another bottle over. With an expression of deep concern.

[educated_wish]

Logan starts laughing at the question. "My guts are settling," he says, looking like he's enjoying the sensation. "As for mentally, why would anyone give a fuck?"

He's blatant about his depression. Always has been, always will be.

[just_cursed]

"I'm...a pretty nice guy, despite the reputation?" he offers with a shrug, "Or, if you won't believe that, go with 'it's in the job description'." and he puts his bar cleaning cloth over his shoulder.

[educated_wish]

"Right. All you barkeeps are fucking curious. Ever heard of what happened to the cat?"

He has a hard time believing anyone would have noble intentions. But he shrugs and finally takes a seat.

"Give me another bottle and maybe I'll tell. My insides feel too intact."

[just_cursed]

After a very intense visual evaluation - which is probably fairly hard to read seeing as there is no delineation between pupil, iris, and sclera - another bottle is passed over.

"Yep. Satisfaction brought it back." he says with a faintly wry smile.

"I'm not going to push, but sometimes it helps to talk to someone who isn't close to the problems." Nobody with Logan's attitude only has one problem.

[educated_wish]

"I doubt you'll be satisfied hearing my story. I'm a shithead who's terminally depressed because he keeps getting people killed."

He drains the second bottle like the first and then reels a bit.

"Damn."

[just_cursed]

"Okay, so...you're like about five percent of my customers. Fifty-five if we just go with the shithead definition." he waves the Warforged away again. Nine can be...protective. "How do you keep getting people killed?"

[educated_wish]

"Oh, depends on the person. I accidentally stabbed my childhood friend, for one thing."

He still remembers the look on her face to this day. He glanced Nine's way as they get waved away again. "What's their problem?"

[just_cursed]

"Tripped?" he can come up with lots of ways to accidentally stab someone, honestly, "Huh, oh, Nine? Imagine a feral cat, but make it a murder robot instead. That's Nine. They're like a brother to me."

[educated_wish]

"More like, went feral and didn't notice who I was going at." He holds up his fist and extends his claws to demonstrate the weapon. "Hey, None, I'm not gonna attack anyone here."

He withdraws the claws.

"I'm not going to make the booze dry up."

[just_cursed]

"Huh." was the only real reaction as he looked at the hand-knives. "That looks really painful. Also, I'm sorry that you and your friend went through that. I've known some Barbarians. Rage is rough."

Nine fails to look impressed. Or anything else, really. It's easy not to emote when your face is half stiff and half covered in fabric.

[educated_wish]

"Not as sorry as I am." He doesn't comment on the painful part - he'd never admit to such a thing. "Rage is rough for those on the receiving end, yeah."

He'd also never admit to hurting himself with it.

[just_cursed]

"Rage can be rough on everyone. Those in it, those they hurt, and those around the blast zone." He lives in a world of fireballs. Blast zone is a thing.

[educated_wish]

"Yeah, well, it's not just rage when I experience it. My mind totally goes fucking blank. I can't think at all."

How that counters the idea it hurts him isn't clear.

[just_cursed]

"Some Barbarians have that kind of Rage." he agrees, "Not all of them can adventure with groups safely...and coming out of that has to be it's own kind of hell. 'What did I do?' 'Who did I hurt?' 'How badly are people hurt?'"

[educated_wish]

Logan is quiet for a minute before answering. When he does, it's completely avoiding the topic.

"Another bottle."

Except with the way he's swaying, he probably couldn't handle another.