2017-06-03: Intense. Duck. Action.

• Log: Intense. Duck. Action.
• Cast: Elhaym van Houten, Loren Voss
• Where: Bledavik - Noble Quarter
• Date: June 3rd 2017
• Summary: Gebler officers play carnival games. Ducks are flipped. No part of this summary is a joke.

---

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

The sun's setting, throwing shadows across the length of the Square. Lights -- precarious things, just paper lanterns -- are lit and strung across the the area, allowing the festival to keep running even into the night. At this time of year in particular, this means that the Square is relatively packed for the festivities as the temperature starts to drop off -- but not yet so much that things start to become uncomfortable in the opposite direction.

Comparatively, Loren hadn't been hurt too badly, between the mission and the unfortunate (which is to say disastrous) 'landing' into Adlehyde. The worst of it had been some cracked ribs, some contusions and cuts, and of course a temporarily disoriented state of being from the anesthetic he'd hit himself with to allow himself to push through to the end.

So once he'd been patched up and the drug had worn off, the official stance from the higher ups had been 'walk it off'. There had been higher-tier cases to handle in the wake of the mission.

Needless to say, today has been his first day off in almost a week, and Loren has spent most of it asleep, broken up only by the phantom sense that an alert was going off to summon him /back/ into the medical ward here on base.

Or what passed for that, here.

And then, quite simply, he'd gone out to take a walk. To judge by the way he's watching the crowd, he's a little non-plussed by the volume of people here. Right, someone -- Van Houten? The Lieutenant Commander? -- had mentioned the festival.

He just honestly hasn't been.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Festivals! They're great!

Elly's tolerance for the noise and bustle has spiked dramatically since... well, since the first time she came. The fact that it is not the fucking solar oven of the day where you can fry an EggPod single-serving fluidized homogenate pod on the olivine slabs this stupid Lamb city is built on - also helps!

"Oh!" comes a voice from the passing crowds. A hand raises up, waving at him.

Soon the crowd parts and Elly emerges. She has a loose and thin cotton blouse with long sleeves worn over what is visibly the cami-tank-and-shorts physical training uniform of the Gebler forces, which is mostly remarkable for having some elastic in it. She is carrying a small paper bag in one hand.

She approaches. "You're alright! Goodness," she says, looking at him. "I was worried - ah -"

Elly seems to have developed a head of good cheer at the festival in some form, possibly by blowing her paycheck on fripperies and/or Bartweisers. (No, just fripperies; she doesn't seem intoxicated.) That steam is rapidly venting as she enters Loren's presence.

"... I'd been worried you were being worked to the bone... I suppose things are easing up, if this isn't just your meal break..."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

Loren, on the other hand, has rapidly discovered that he's not really sure /what/ to do with himself in such a large crowd. It's... very chaotic, with people moving this way and that, with so many bright colors, strong smells, loud noises. It's very raw, grating against his nerves. Nothing like things in Etrenank.

It was overwhelming, particularly after so many days stuck inside. He'd slunk towards the edges of the Square, contemplating attempting to slip back out.

Unfortunately, he's been spotted. Loren glances up sharply as a hand, somewhere amidst the unwashed masses, waves to him.

...His shoulders sag, slightly as Elly emerges.

He's similarly -- unusually, but in deference to the lingering heat -- traded in his uniform for something lighter. Not the training uniform because because these aren't shorts, and there are (short) sleeves on the shirt, but...

He blinks at her, blue eyes briefly tracking downwards at the bag she's holding. Worried?

Oh.

Slowly, more than a little taken aback, he shakes his head. "...No of course not. Most of the injured are either stabilized or won't require further interventive care at present. Even the junior medics should be able to manage their status." He pauses, as if considering what he's just said, and looks away. "...Yes, things are easing up. Today was my day off."

The sun's setting, though, so perhaps 'so much for that'.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

"... Oh."

Elly purses her lips.

"Well... I can show you the amusements if you've just been watching," she continues, lamely. Her hands fold behind her back, the little bag rustling. "I've mostly been... just..."

playing carnival games

"Milling around. I'm still on limited duty, though it's actually my own last day, too."

Another silent, awkward beat.

"I'll buy you my favorite local drink, if you'd like," Elly then offers, attempting a smile. "It takes a little getting used to, but if you're going to be in Bledavik for a while..."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

There is a moment of silence. It's awkward.

Loren might, might /might/ just not be the best conversational partner to have, what with being perilously on the end of 'shy no-fun guy'. The fact that Elly's presence is making him feel even more uncomfortable than even the unwashed masses here probably also isn't helping.

Loren glances back over at her. "...Yes, we should be returning to active duty in Adlehyde soon."

Rightly, he should excuse himself and sink back to his quarters.

And yet. His attempt to interrogate that woman -- Keil -- had gone unfortunately, in spite of his attempts to salvage things in his report. Much to his annoyance, van Houten seemed much more capable with these things than he was. Even right now.

Slightly, his shoulders sag. Oh. Yes, that would be why.

"...You're right. I have only been watching," he says after a moment. Emperor, rushing into combat was easier than this.

New personal mission unlocked: attempt to socialize with the locals. Without inwardly recoiling.

"It's rather... crowded, tonight," he says, a bit lamely, struggling with his distrust of her and discomfort being /here/. Still, if he can't at least do as well as she can with the Lambs... "If you could show me around, I would..." He hesitates. He looks up, actually meeting her gaze. "I would appreciate it."

Whether or not he means it is another story, but perhaps it's the thought that counts this time.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

Elly hopes passionately that she never has to go back to Adelhyde ever again in her life. She has a lot of hopes, and all of them will FAIL. Because that's REALISM for you.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she -- has her look returned?

She smiles at Loren. "Alright," she says. She waves him forwards. "Come on. - Oh, wow, they're doing that thing with camels already. Alright, we'll take the long way around..."

S E G U E

The long way around seems to have taken the pair around and past several stalls which have already been closed up, possibly for the workers to go home or just because it's not worth manning them at this time of day. The smells of rich savory cooking are coming from the air here and there, and that guy was juggling six clubs as they passed. But Elly figured that this wasn't going to be exciting, and she seems to have a destination in mind.

"Hey! It's the cigar thief!" calls a -Lamb-, cheerfully.

Elly stops dead, looks at him, and laughs weakly. "Oh - Oh, actually, Loren, I bet you'd be excellent at this," she tells him.

'This' is a contest called Whack the Quack. The principle is that you pay 10G for three bladders with long carved spouts and you fire them at little floating ducks in a big tub. The ducks are apparently balanced, and the guy with a beard demonstrates helpfully on one of them - hit it just right and, in principle, you can flip them over. The underside has a number on it.

"The more points you get, the bigger the prizes," he says genially. "Want to take a practice shot before you get started? I'm not letting that demon there clean me out any further!"

Elly looks abashed.

This faces Loren with several challenges now, all of which involve talking to a -Lamb-. At least he looks friendly, possibly because, secretly, the traditional price is 1G per squirt.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

At the very least, Loren needs to follow up on his various lines of inquiry -- and the sooner the better. If he waits too much longer, some of the individuals involved in Port Timney will become untraceable, to say nothing of the much more recent sequence of events that have destabilized the entire region.

And the Captain will probably want them to follow up on SLIDE-1.

He'll need to be able to comfortably integrate to accomplish the mission to a satisfactory level. Like all other animals, surface-dwellers can scent a disturbance in the fold. The less he can do that, the better.

And right now Elly almost seems --

He may regret this.

"The... what /are/ they doing?" He squints.

The long way around, it is.

ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE SQUARE MAYBE

Something smells good. Atypically -- or maybe just because his caloric needs are high and when you're hungry, which Loren is almost constantly, you'll eat anything -- he's taken to surfacer food. It reminds him that he hasn't actually eaten very much today, though admittedly he spent most of it semi-comatose.

That had been no less than six clubs, hadn't it? He can't help but gawk a bit as he follows after her, pushing deeper into the chaos and noise.

"Cigar thief?" He looks at Elly and wrinkles his forehead. And then, slowly, he looks over at the booth.

The concept is sound. Nevertheless, Loren looks dubious.

For about a moment. He glances sidelong at Elly. ...She was able to do this?

And not only that, she did so well the vendor won't let her play again.

That's apparently all the justification he needs. Drawing himself up, he approaches the man running the booth. "I'll do it." And then, in a brief burst of confidence that might just be rooted in pettiness, adds, "I won't need that practice shot."

Okay, this isn't so bad, he thinks to himself.

Though he's probably still being too rude.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

"They're examining animals," Elly explains. "I don't understand it either."

BUT HERE AND NOW

"It was the fifty point prize," Elly protests vaguely.

But then Loren is faced with a challenge. He puts down his money and he gets his bladders, fresh filled from the tub of water. The man steps aside, grinning.

Loren can already figure out the obvious angles here. The ducks are a misleading shape - if you shot at the head or neck of the duck, like you might if you were actually hunting ducks for food or feathers or duck mayo or whatever it is that -Lambs- use them for, you'd just get the duck to wobble. You have to aim to flip them from either just below or just above.

Presumably Elly figured this out. That or she was using her Satan-granted Ether powers to cheat on a low-key basis, fooling the Lamb.

Except... the cigar box which Elly has apparently been prized-out from is half empty, and isn't anywhere near the highest value item here. It must be possible to do better than that.

The ducks are all swirling around; there's a drain in the bottom of the basin, a thin one, going into a pail which presumably gets poured in every now and then. The ducks are thus not fixed targets, but there's a small clump of them coming together. Normally...

NORMALLY if you just shot one, you'd flip one. But if he can make the one in front dip its carefully carved and painted ducky tail down at the right angle, perhaps... all four can flip in a single shot.

Elly is looking on. She is internally weighing if she should say something encouraging or not.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

The fifty point prize? That's an appraising look he gives Elly. "Hmm."

In all probability, Loren looks like a Mark, even if the booth operator knows that the young man standing before him is with the mysterious Gebler.

He's not even into his twenties, still young by most people's measure. The freckles -- which have spread somewhat, no thanks to the sun exposure he's had in spite of sunblock -- also aren't doing him any favors on the 'taken seriously' front. And he manages to bear an expression that's disinterested at best, bored at worst.

The only outward tell that something might be afoot here is the sudden intensity shading into his blue eyes.

Holding one of the bladders -- and noticing with some private distaste that it's leaking -- Loren sizes up the situation, squinting as he scans the ducks floating in the tub of water. Someone might make the mistake of assuming that, naturally, he'd approach this like a soldier would. 'A clean shot is all it would take'.

But this isn't a battlefield. This is a game -- there's a trick to it. There's always a feint, part of the play disguised to the players. To flip one of these ducks, as they're balanced, you have to use a different and not immediately obvious approach.

Elly had figured that part out. Loren glances over at the assortment of prizes, gaze sliding from one to the next. "Fifty points..." he murmurs. "And..." Still loosely holding the bladder, he re-evaluates the situation. No. He's not going to settle for being 'as good as'. Not here.

At this point, he might just look like he's stalling. But for once, Loren has full opportunity to fully evaluate the situation, and by the Emperor, he's going to take full advantage of it. There must be some way to make a bigger score. Even if he flipped a duck on each shot... His gaze finally falls on the clumping ducks. Aha.

In spite of himself, Loren can't help but think that was a little clever, for a Lamb. Slightly, he nods, as if to herself. The Captain /was/ right.

The one in the front looks like his best option. Of course, he thinks as he lifts the bladder and takes careful aim at a point just above the tail -- below might be better but it's also the poorer shot from here -- it would have been even /better/ if he'd had the practice shot first; he has no idea how this thing is going to behave...

After lining up that shot seriousness of someone lining up a headshot, he finally squirts water at a fake duck.

Games are serious business.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

With all the intense fury of a City Hunter, Loren takes his shot.

The duck is hit... and flips forwards... nothing happens, the Lamb smiles, and then on the backswing the duck's ass hits the water.

And goes low... just as two other ducks end up sliding there. It bobs back up, and there's enough force to flip those two ducks, both of which land with sufficient vigor to reveal the numbers on their underside. But sadly it's two "20s"...

B U T

The initial duck's wobbling as it hits a 'curve' in the water drain induced 'lanes' in the tub. It tilts... twists... it's almost at a 80 degree angle but before it can reach that point it finishes the curve, hitting the straightaway, rising back up

and

HITTING ANOTHER DUCK RIGHT IN ITS WING. The force is enough to invert THAT duck, and that duck - a small, plain, boring duck -

Has "300" written on its underside.

"Wh... how... arr..."

Elly giggles. (AT WHO?)

"H... heh! Good shot! Great luck - wow! I'll be tellin' that one for the rest of the festival!" the Lamb says, mopping his forehead with a particolored rag. "Now that all said, how about you see if your luck can hold, buddy!"

"Oh! Loren, if you can do that again you can get one of the really big... things," Elly says. "The points don't carry over..."

"Well, that's not true as such," the game runner admits.

Elly looks thunderstruck.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

There's one thing that's impossible to completely solve for: the movements of the ducks on the water. The best he can do, even with all the care in the world, is make his best guess. Right now, the others are close enough that they should--

Bad timing after all? Loren wonders, eyeing the duck as it rocks backwards on the water with no sign of the cascade he'd been hoping for. Oh, now that would /figure/--

Pessimistic ruminations will have to wait. Two ducks, sliding into place at just the right time after all, have flipped over.

A game's not a game without a bit of random chance. Which, the movement of the water already provides in part -- but as ever, the house holds the more favorable odds. Those ducks aren't much good, but they're not the only ones in play. Loren holds his breath, watching the movement of the duck as it wobbles along, tilts, curves and...

Aha.

Someone else might have smiled in self-satisfaction as the smaller duck comes up with a whopping 300 point value. Loren... the most his expression changes is that some of the previous intensity in his eyes /eases/, returning him to his seemingly emotionless neutral.

But don't be mistaken, beneath the surface the medic's feeling pretty damn smug right now. Even Elly's mysteriously-focused giggle doesn't so much as shake him. Maybe he's on a roll!

Maybe Gebler agents are definitely getting banned from most games of chance/skill at the festival from here on. Especially once word spreads. But for right now...

"You're wondering about my luck? That sounds like a challenge. I'll do it." It's not even the prize that interests him now. He just wants to see how well he can do this, for once. He glances, sidelong, at Elly, though. "The points don't carry over? What do you mean by that?"

Cue a suspicious glance at the game runner.

And a long, level stare at the ducks still floating on their 'pond'.

Alright then. Judging how the water -- disturbances included -- and the way in which they're clustering...

In this, he has nothing but the most pure sort of confidence. He can /do/ this. Unless stopped, he lines up and takes another shot.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

The bad news: This one is less of an overall stunner.

The good news: he still manages to flip three with his "Duck's Ass" technique, and their total value is an additional 110 points (30, 30, 50).

"Well," Elly says, "I had thought that you had to exchange them all from each round... that if you didn't um, get so many points in one round, you couldn't have them accumulate."

"Er-- well, it's not like it's tickets or something, guhehe, but uh, if you wanted to do two or three rounds all in a go, I'd roll them over for you!"

From the cheek-puffed look on Elly's face, she got hustled. Perhaps Loren will avenge her yet.

He's already starting to be able to place on the ACCESSORIES WALL. Can he score another 300-odd points and get his choice of the board?!

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

There's that ever-tricksy element of luck, once again rearing its head. Still, even if it's not the absolute best he's done tonight -- so far -- it's far from a bad shot. Especially with three more added to his total now.

And it sounds like Elly /definitely/ got scammed. Dropping the bladder he was using, he fixes the game operator with a long, level stare, almost as if he were attempting to dissect the man with eyes alone. "I'm sure you /would/ roll them over," he states finally, voice absolutely calm.

Whatever he might think about Elly -- little of it's good -- the fact is, she's his teammate. Supporting her is essential. This might not be the middle of an operation, but all the same...

He still feels that responsibility. And he feels a little angry, actually, that someone -- a Lamb of all things -- pulled one over on her. Not because he cares, personally, about her, mind. It's just the principle of it all.

"It's just one more shot. Is that right?" He inclines his head, slightly. "Well then--"

He has a good feeling about this shot, as he once again takes aim.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

The shot...

It takes him long enough to line it up that the Lamb running the stall starts sweating it. Almost a minute before the perfect confluence. Then it hits -

One duck flips on its side, smacks two others just as they enter the loop - flipping as they speed up there, one of them skidding off down lower and the other two impacting against another pair hard enough to make a little wooden 'klok' and tumble over.

The numbers float to the surface.

50.

80.

30.

30.

And that last duck that fell down towards the drain... it bobs up suddenly.

Upside down.

500

The Lamb pulls one of the cigars out of the box, cuts it with a little knife he had hanging around because you might have to stab Fei in the hand or something, and starts fiddling around with a match as he growls, "Well, I guess you did really well. Got your pick of the litter. Over a thousand! Pick your best."

Anything on the 'Accessories' wall is 500 or 1,000 points. There's also a bunch of useless festival crap and consumable items hanging around, if Loren wants to go ham.

Elly claps her hands in delight. "How did you DO that! Were you -" She stops, which is probably securityin action. "That was amazing, Loren..." Who said she could use his first name? Well, maybe she doesn't want to be formal in front of the Lambs.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

There's an urge, burning brightly for an instant, to throw caution to the wind. Why not? He has this one sorted. Even if he takes cursory aim, he should be able to sink enough of the ducks to get the result he wants.

And that's precisely the sort of feeling that he treads on hard during that near-minute of watchful waiting. No. Absolutely not. He's elite by birthright, his place in the world outstrips almost everyone else currently in this plaza, but he refuses to be careless, even in this. If it starts anywhere, who knows where it could lead?

He waits, watching for that perfect moment.

Then, unmistakably, it arrives. He doesn't waste any time -- he takes the shot.

As the ducks flip over, one thing is perfectly, absolutely clear:

He is definitely getting banned from this game.

Slowly exhaling a breath, he drops the bladder. "Better luck next time," he remarks flatly to the game operator. He's going to treasure this moment for some time.

The prize itself doesn't matter -- he more or less picks at random, here not bothering to dither. It's definitely one of the more expensive ones off the wall, though.

And then, he turns towards Elly.

'Were you--'

Was he what? He blinks, looking slightly affronted. Cheating?

Loren shakes his head. "It's just a matter of watching where they are. If one of them bumps into the other at the right angle... There's some chance to it, I guess," he admits. But everything has a bit of chance to it.

He realizes, a moment later, that she's just called him by his first name. ...Again. Even though he looks for a moment as if he's about to say something regarding that -- the way his eyes widen, then focus on her -- he ultimately shakes his head, stuffing his prize into a pocket. "You were saying something about a local drink?"

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

The game operator gets a match going and manages to light his cigar. This modestly surprises Elly, who had been mystified at how this Lamb custom worked.

Loren picks some crap out.

• Coin of Fate! Purpose unclear. Loren will learn from experimentation, if he ever bothers, that it is really easy to completely determine how the coin lands - it always has odd numbers of flips, and if somehow it fails, it lands on its edge. He may need to use this to win the kingdom from his brother, later.

• Shakhan Jr. Doll. An adorable and politically expedious doll of Prime Minister Shakhan! Has no effect.

• A Bandanna With A Textile Pattern That, When Tied On The Forehead Or Arm, Declares One To Be "Top Stud of the Sands" In Traditional Aveh Calligraphy

• One Of Those Cigars

• 2 Ounce Jar of Ariberry Jam

• an Aquasol

"No, I -"

Elly explains herself during the rest of the transit. She speaks quietly and she actually uses Solarian, too low to be heard, probably. "-If you studied extrasensory work. Ms Hawwa is having me do it.-"

Back to the normal talk of lambs.

"Anyway, this stuff is really tasty, but it's probably not like any juice you've had. It's from some fruit they harvest - Ah, yes, sir," Elly says.

"Two Durian juices."

It tastes like chives! but in a good way...?

Elly seems to enjoy it, at least.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

Well, it's probably more like 'stuff some of this into a pocket and awkwardly carry around the doll and the jam jar' but the devil's in the details.

Loren's honestly not sure what he's going to do with some of this.

Oh. Oh, that explains quite a bit. "-I haven't. It's a hobby. Games like that, that is.-" he replies in Solarian. "-What's this extrasensory work the Lieutenant Commander's having you study?-" Call it one part curiosity, one part sense that she might have a leg up on him in terms of favor. Paranoia -- and budding rivalty -- rears its ugly head.

At first, Loren sounds a bit incredulous. "In the desert? --Right, they do have some sources of water. Oases," he adds, waving a hand vaguely. Not that he's seen any of /those/, but he hasn't seen the outside of Bledavik from anything short of a transit carrier, given their focus in the Adlehyde region of late.

The juice smells off.Tentatively, he takes a sip, perhaps remembering the incident with the /other/ Lamb drink she's given him. "..."

He can say that it's honestly one of the weirder things he's tasted. Creasing his forehead thoughtfully, he takes another sip, just to be sure he had that right.

...Sure, why not. A fruit that tastes sort of like a sweet garlic. He'll just have to accept that exists now.

"...It's interesting," he says, finally. Because what else can he say? It's not even that it's bad.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

"-It's hard to summarize, and some of it's secure. But it's related to the... the things I could see in the cavern,-" Elly says. "-I could see them better now.-"

BUT THEN

JUICE

"Isn't it great? But you have to chew a little parsley afterwards, or your breath is horrible."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

"..." Silence is the same in any language.

'Some of it's secure'. Even though they were in the same class at Jugend, this is something he's not being informed about and she is.

Elly's not just a potential menace who he's developing competitive thoughts regarding. Elly's a potential menace who he's developing competitive thoughts regarding /with favor from the LtC/. "-I see-," he settles for, finally.

For the first time in his life, Loren might need to actually step up his game. Or learn to sense Malevolence.

BUT IN THE MEANTIME, THERE'S JUICE

That, apparently, is going to cause trouble later. "Ah." He should have realized. Nothing on the surface is easy.