2017-06-15: The Epic Arm Wresting Match of Starfall Saloon

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  • Log: The Epic Arm Wresting Match of Starfall Saloon
  • Cast: Cardia Ortell, Gwen Whitlock, Rudy Roughnight, Cecilia Adlehyde
  • Where: Adlehyde - Starfall Saloon
  • Date: 6/15/2017
  • Summary: Sometimes things happen when Gwen gets drunk. This is a thing that happened. Who knew Cecilia was such a good arm wrestler?

========================<* Adlehyde - Starfall Saloon *>========================

Located in the southwest quadrant of Adlehyde, the Starfall Saloon is situated next to the local Adventurer's Guild outpost and kitty-corner from an ARMs Meister; the mostly-happy not-at-all-coincidence has turned the Saloon into a popular gathering place for Drifters. Even in the wake of the battle of Adlehyde, the Saloon continues its steadfast tradition of serving some of Adlehyde's finest foods and beverages. The building has largely survived the wrath of the Demons' attack -- minus the shaved off shingles that have fallen prey to dragon fire, and a breached room up top that ate a cannonball to its balcony.

The Saloon's proprietor and bartender is known as Honest Tom; this is a bit of an in-joke among the regulars, as the man rarely speaks more than a dozen words over the course of an evening. The cook is known to most as 'Aunt Hilda', the woman who, along with waitress Lunata Croze has concocted many delectable, mouth-watering specials and soups. The Starfall Saloon was widely known among Drifters for offering warm beds, cold beer and wonderful grub for a fair price...

...and now, it is serving as an additional hospital and clinic for the injured in the wake of the battle of Adlehyde. Most of the showfloor has been converted into a sick ward with plenty of gurneys and cots tending to the ill and injured -- and rooms are at limited availability with priority going to those who need intensive care. The sign reads: 'DOCTORS AND MEDICS WANTED', along with 'STILL OPEN FOR BUSINESS'.

Certainly, they have a downsized menu mostly sticking to mass-produced, but still delicious nurturing foods. A cup of warm, comforting soup to recover from a disaster... won't you have some?

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MQRL7xws7w
<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Coming to Adlehyde is a sombering experience.

It isn't the first time that Cardia Ortell has been in the city since the razing, the theft of the golems, and when everything went to hell. She's been seen by one of the members of the Adventurer's Guild, too, chatting with that boy Rudy Roughnight out in the impromptu graveyard he started making out in the fields. Of course, no one here knows her as Lieutenant Ortell of Gebler.

Here, she's just 'Carde.'

A reasonably tall woman in her early twenties, her hair is ashen gray with eyes some exotic shade of blue. Hair worn loose, it hides the metallic plates on her cheekbones-- signs of a foreigner to the area, and one of those more fanciful places where it's not totally unheard of for someone to get parts of themselves fixed up or replaced for one reason or another.

She's dressed perhaps a little heavier than she needs to be for the weather-- a full-sleeved shirt with high collar, a beaten and faded brown vest, and a heavy red neckerchief tied off around her neck to keep it hidden as much as possible. Her short duster is draped over the back of the chair, and a beaten, weathered, and remarkably plain ARM is tucked into the holster under her arm.

Hands in gloves, a bit of a dirt smudge clinging to her nose, and nursing a rather tall cup of water, she sits alone at a table in the crowd of the fallen city, clutching the local newspaper and frowning ever-so hard.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Cardia's outfit may be notable in that it covers up as much as possible, something that could make many a suspicious person mark her as a danger, or someone to be avoided. Her ARM is displayed, yes, but what else could be lying in the duster over her chair? Why the gloves? Why the handkerchief?

Then there's just... Gwen. "See, I TOLD that guy that some wimmen prefer to cover up!" What is a Gwen? It's a young woman, about 19 or so, maybe younger (no one *quite* wants to put a number on her), her skin the sort of pale that doesn't do very well in the sun, with short, wavy pale red hair. She's even dressed in much the same way as Cardia- handkerchief around the neck, a vest, a blouse, a pair of thick leather gloves, one of which she's pointing at Cardia as she weaves right over, slipping into the chair next to Cardia. It's only here that those freckles on Gwen's cheeks are evident, because right now, due to the blush of pink that alcohol has painted there, they're a little hard to see otherwise.

She leans over, whispering loudly. "I wouldn't drink the water. I don't think they got their filterin' equipment back up yet... But the alcohol's jussssst finnnneee." She slings down her mug, letting out a pleased sigh, as will as a hiccup. "Dis here is the good stuff! I can see why it's popular rite now!"

Honest Tom looks up from wiping clean a mug left over from a former patron, and grimly nods. "It's because it gets you drunk real quick." Quietly looking to Gwen for the cue, he takes her mug and refills it, sliding it back to her.

Gwen catches the glass with her right hand, and raises it in salute, then looks to Cardia. "..... what's yer name, again...?"

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

With a thought, her eyes are put on a passive setting, keeping her from tracking those that enter and leave the saloon and identifying every single one with some kind of identifying tickmark or assigned code to keep things straight in her head. Unfortunately for Cardia, though she can will aspects of her augmentations on and off at will, she still has to contend with the years she spent being trained as a recon specialist. Gwen's particular set of pipes hit her ears pretty regularly, making it easy to track the drunken girl all the way to--

-- shit, she's at her table. She didn't expect that.

The gray-haired young woman's gaze flicks toward Gwen and her rosy cheeks, not quite sure what to make of the girl, her booze, and her all-too-friendly attitude as she leans in close to start whispering. Lifting up the large cup, she starts taking a drink... right when Gwen tells her the filtration systems aren't quite up to scratch in the city again, at least not yet. Her eyes open, brow run together mid-drink. This... is her third cup.

Well, at least it doesn't taste like recycled water and sand.

The young woman reaches to her duster in a steady, easy manner before pulling out a small leatherbound book, beaten and worn, held closed with a knot of string. Opening it up, a charcoal pencil is snagged out for her to write out one quick word on the page, holding up the book at Gwen.

'Carde.'

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

No one quite expects Gwen when she's drunk. Not even Gwen.

"You'll be fine," the courier assures Cardia, "it gets out of your system real quick." Whatever 'it' is, perhaps, is best left up to the imagination. "It's water in the Badlands y'gotta watch out for. Get some nasty water and you'll be feelin' it for weeeeeeks. They call it the Curse of the... something..." She idly rubs one eye and yawns. "I'll 'member it."

"Oooh, is your voice sore? I gotcha, I gotcha, I'll jus use this paper soo you don't havta speak more either!" She's already getting out a pencil and pad of paper out of her own satchel, only to realize, several seconds later, her mental misstep.

But not before she writes, very loosely, something that looks likw 'Gw en Whitl oc k'. Something like that.

"Oh, ritee. Ritte. I'd be speakin' wit' my own throat, not yers." But even as she drinks, sitting in her chair like she's a happy little daisy weaving in the wind, those blue-grey eyes look at Cardia.

She squints, leaning in. ".... never knew make-up could do that... Is that... some kinda..." A hiccup interrupts her thoughts, and she leans back in her chair, a giant smile on her face. "What'm sayin' is, you look neat!"

Suddenly, those eyes widen again. "Oh, y'must be one of those Baskar folks!"

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Whatever's wrong with the water, it doesn't stop her from actively continuing to drink it right now. However, Carde's head slants to one side as Gwen surmises that she has a sore throat, then pulls out paper for herself and writes her name. The look the gray-haired woman shoots Honest Tom reads something like 'how old is this kid, again?' in the way a concerned older sister would.

Does she have a sore throat? Carde points at her neck, then makes a gesture with her hand while opening her mouth, then shakes her head firmly. On their own, three simple concepts: 'no,' 'voice,' 'speak.'

Gwen, then-- the surname is a little jumbled, but that's more or less all she needs. At least she's being paid complements-- and so she writes and presents a quick 'Thank you,' then jots down a larger, clearer, easier-to-read, 'Something like that.'

A few quick scribbles: 'Your parents know you're here? Should take it easy on the booze.'

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

"Oh. OH." Gwen nods readily, raising a hand in a thumbs up. "My misstake."

Gwen leans in to decipher the text, peering over the words. "Parents?" Her face tilts up to look at Cardia, and she laughs. "Man, ouch!" She rubs a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I guess I should turn in soon... but there's still so many hours left!"

The old bartender, meanwhile, looks at Cardia with the eyes of a man who has seen many, many battlefields, all filled with drunkards who insist that it's not quite time to close.

He knows all. He sees all. And he knows Cardia's pain, as well as Gwen's own. "... Had a few clients back out of payment on her. Heavy loads, apparently."

Gwen's shoulders begins to slump at the reminder. "Heal Berry salves. So... many... crates..." Gradually, the courier's good cheer begins to resettle, as she slowly raises a hand, as if to stop any further information Tom could've volunteered, despite the bartender looking more interested in scratching off a speck of grime off a stray mug. "I 'ave a good memory, and a favors list a mile long now."

Honest Tom looks Gwen with one expertly raised brow. "If you wanted to run a charity, you could've at least gotten some funds to show for it." The bartender's arrow of words hits Gwen, driving in the arrow fired by Cardia moments earlier. She sighs and slumps to the table, resting her chin on the wooden surface. "Ooowww. That hurts, man, that hurts. Was tryin' to make myself look good n' everythin'."

For better or worse, she recovers quickly, already pivoting her attention straight back at Cardia. "Soooo, where ya from? You look newish, though I guess all us Drifter-types are kinda newish, hehe."

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

The note of 'parents' seems to sting Gwen pretty hard, followed by the news that she got stiffed on her job. Thoughtful for a few moments about what to say-- what she could say, what she should say, how she should react, and then her head tilts to jot down a very simple note:

'That's rough, buddy.'

Gwen's up, then down, then up, then-- it's a roller coaster of emotion for her. Cardia's not quite sure how to react, tilting her head and leaning a little closer while she's weeping into the table. A solid, unyieldingly firm hand lands on Gwen's shoulder for an awkward few pats in solidarity. 'You can do it,' the gesture alone seems to say. That, or 'it ok, don't be cry.'

The conversation shifts quickly back to Cardia. Tilting her head down, she jots down some notes quickly: 'Port Timeny. Didn't like the sea.' She turns the page, then quickly adds in the jotted-out, 'Been on the road for a couple of years now.'%r Cardia frowns, her brow creasing as she writes the next part out. 'Was in town for incident. It was awful.'

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

"Nah, nah, it's why I came in 'ere!" Gwen laughs, tilting back in her chair, balancing just so before gravity cruelly takes over. A quick yank on the table with one hand sends the chair back upright, its legs making an audible 'TAP' as they land on the floor. "Jest a coupla drinks to loosen me up and light up th'night, and then I'll sleep like the dead n' by fine tomorrow!"

And by fine, she means 'hungover', but from the looks of the other patrons, it seems to be a popular plan for about 79% of the room.

"Port Tinmey?" The town's name seems to bring up some more bad memories, though Gwen doesn't quite settle on crying about them. "After that Malevolensh attack, makes me feel kinda iffy about eatin' at the oyster bars there..." It's just one of many vague statements, probably best not to be elaborated on, especially when another 'incident' is mentioned.

Her mouth opens in a sigh as she rubs her face. "People 'ere got it a lot worse. City folk n' Drifters alike."

And then Gwen's leaning over again, a glimpse of caution managing to make it through the haze of drink. "Be careful," she warns below her breath. "I know how stuff like this works. When the dust from all this settles, watch yerself. If y'look different," she begins, a finger pressing to her own cheek to indicate Cardia's own, "people'll start throwin' their frustrations at you. But hopefully, that won't happen for a while."

She settles back into her chair, if a tad bit sideways, and lifts up her drink. "Thas why it's good to have people owin' you favors! So I think I'm even. See? Things ain't so bad!"

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Sleep like the dead and be fine by tomorrow, eh? Carde frowns, shaking her head at Gwen a little bit. 'Boil off some water. Drink it when it cools. Will take the edge off.' To that effect, she'll wait until the young courier reaches that point of the message before pointing at her head, making her hands flick outward as though her head were exploding.

Of course, this kid is probably old hat to this right now. Most of Adlehyde seems to be that way.

As Gwen describes the Malevolensh attack, her head tilts to the side, offering only a small, defeated 'what-can-you-do' sort of shrug. One incident ends up leading to another. She's worried, too-- this little adorable surface-dwelling girl giving her some personal advice about people that look different.

Cardia doesn't bother with a note this time, instead confidently tapping a finger against her own bicep, pulling her hand into a fist, then giving it a small shake. 'I,' she soundlessly mouths out, 'take care of myself.'

'Can't help how I look,' she writes at last. 'You be careful, too.' She seems like a good kid, for a Lamb.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Hydration. Like the slow drop of a filter, the notion floats into Gwen's alcohol-soaked brain, causing her to slowly nod. "Rite, rite, keep drinkin' water! Flush the body." She continues to nod, amiably, before she realizes.

Oh yeah. Hangover.

That'll be a thing.

Then sobriety shall come back like a cranky family member, angry with her for discarding it in the first place. And she will remember, very faintly, the notion of a woman with metal on her face, and how she made a complete idiot of herself in front of that woman.

But then Cardia's curling her arm into a bicep, showing off her own ability to fend off any attackers, and some part of Drunk Gwen's brain discovers a brand new way to completely make Gwen regret ever entering the saloon in the first place.

"..." Gwen's eyes slowly widen. "You jus gafe me an idea!"

Well, some of this idea was planted by a certain Claude C. Kenny and his 'WILL FIGHT YOU FOR CHARITY' sign, but Cardia, just by existing and responding to Gwen's current level of... Gwenness, seems to have made that seed bloom into a beautiful idea.

Gwen thinks it's neat, anyway.

"For charity, I'll armwressle!" She triumphantly plants her right elbow down on the table, the upper half of her arm extended loosely upwards in the universal sign of 'armwrestle me, bro'. "But I'll needa refeesher! Iffyew beat me, I'll cover yer tab!" There's a pause. "Water's not that expensif 'ere yet, issit?"

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

The look that Carde gives Gwen Whitlock is one of complete and utter dismay. The face of a woman that just, as the saying goes, cannot even. Opening her mouth as though she were able to speak, the gray-haired young woman holds up her hands a bit, pencil clutched in her gloved fingers as she tries to search and seek a way to respond to this in a way that won't be insulting, or make sense, or ...

Just get through that two-layer authentication of 'Gwen' and 'booze.'

She holds up her index finger, mouthing out 'once.'

Maybe if she just gets this over with quickly, things will settle down. She'll be calm, and steady, and there's no way that she'll throw a fit or throw herself around the bar. Plus, more water-- though if it's as bad as Gwen is saying right now, maybe she'll have to make sure to have it boiled before the bubbly girl drinks it.

Oh Cardia. How do you get yourself into these messes...? Is it just because Myyah isn't around?

Her sigh is silent-- nothing more than a simple pass of air from her throat. Her elbow touches down on the table in a careful, muted manner that hides the metallic thump against the wood. Her gloved hand extends and presents itself.

Gwen might find she's a lot stronger than she looks-- or Carde might find out the same thing.

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

It used to be that Rudy would always be spending time in this Saloon. But once the injured people came in, once the setting had changed so much, he couldn't sleep here. Not anymore.

But because staying at this place resulted in a rough night for Roughnight, it doesn't mean he doesn't visit this location anymore. After all, until Adlehyde is back to its normal state, the blue haired boy won't feel at peace. So while people are arm wrestling for charity, the outcast ARMslinger moves into the Saloon with a duffle overflowing with healing items like Heal Berries, Potions, and other such useful things.

The door is held open, allowing a certain someone to come in before the door is closed. It seems Rudy remembers his manners, so that's a plus. Brown eyes look around before he finally speaks. "And this is where the wounded are," Rudy replies as he goes to hand the bag toward one of the workers here. "Kinda odd they still serve food here, but I guess it makes sense." The attention goes from the bar toward Cardia and Gwen, slowly Rudy just quirking a brow at what he sees. He doesn't comment on it, but well, it's Rudy so no surprise there.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Cecilia Lynn Adlehyde, Heir Apparent, has not been about so much, lately; that familiar white dress and long blonde hair, hidden back in quarters.

But now, slipping in behind Rudy, with a bag of her own in hand, is a young woman of similar build, dressed in more work-oriented boots and road-ready attire; her hair shorn around her neck and held in place by a red headband; she's wearing a black traveler's shirt under a light-brown leather bodice, tied up with red string; that under a blue belt-up vest, currently closed. Her lower body has a short skirt that's matched to the vest, pinstripe leggings streaking down to her green wool socks and boots.

"I really admire the work they're doing," she says to Rudy, slipping up beside him. "Though, I haven't been able to come by lately...I feel so bad eating, uhm, as much as I do, with all the wounded here..."

Her neck cranes up and bright green eyes wide a little in surprise at what's going on. She does comment. "Is this...fundraising...?" she wonders, because drunken carousing is new for her.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

When Cardia rises to the challenge, Gwen laughs merrily. "That's th' spirrit! Though I think I may've have too much spirrits. 'Ay, is what I drank spirrits, Tom?" Honest Tom just looks up and, looking at the bottle on the shelf, shrugs.

"Welp, it guess I'll never know." She looks to Cardia with a gleeful grin as she clasps Cardia's hand. The duel begins, two gloved hands clasped in a way of battle as old as... probably whenever a bunch of people got drunk near a level flat surface.

Gwen would certainly be surprised at Cardia's strength. She'll definitely be surprised tomorrow, when she stops to recollect all the alcohol-soaked memories of this day's events. Now, though, she's completely and utterly not taking into account that she's arm-wrestling using a, well, ARM. "Whoaaahh, yer pretty strong!" Back and forth the arms go, Gwen seesawing between honest effort and the dazed lackadaisical motion of a drunkard. But, at least, she's quiet.

A few coins hit the table nearby Cardia, a couple watching with interest. A few more coins drop on the other side. An injured, bandaged man limps up and, fishing in his trousers, produces another coin to give to the bartender 'for the cause'.

Turns out, people will pay to watch two decent-looking people arm-wrestle. Especially if one of them's drunk.

"Rudyyyy!" Gwen waves with the other hand, her right arm instantly swinging dangerously close to the losing side before she recommits. "Ah'm armwresslin' for charity!! Whose yer friend?!"

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

A simple nod of understand is given at the 'awkward to eat here', Rudy clearly understanding that (but still eats here because it's cheap). With the materials delivered, the young man seems ready to depart as he turns toward the door. After all, Gwen seems rather busy. But the question of Cecilia causes him to pause for a moment which cues up the loud explanation from Whitlock. A hand is gestured from Cecilia toward Gwen as if stating 'There you go' as the purpose is laid out.

But while he can outsource some of his dialogue, there are some things that Rudy can get out of without being rude or disrespectful, things that Roughnight never would wish to be accused of. "This is Cecilia," he simply replies, perhaps not knowing that the two supposedly know one another. But with the beginnings of conversation, Rudy merely stands his ground, not preparing for the social retreat he was pining for previously.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Carde doesn't apply much strength-- it's being done in careful measure, trying very hard to not break Gwen's arm as she applies a firm amount of pressure with the intent to end the arm wrestling match before it even begins, and--

-- then her hand just doesn't move.

The mysterious drifter Carde's eyes widen a little at first, then shift from drunken Gwen to their hands, then to Gwen again. For a short time, there's utterly no movement-- it's like they're frozen in time, exerting just enough force against each other to cancel the other out and achieve some kind of strange drunkulibrium.

The covered cyborg applies a bit more force, but Gwen's finding her balance--

'Rudyyyy!'

She almost wins, but then Carde's head turns to look toward the doorway. Looking none the worse for wear and with a concentration scowl tugging at the corners of her features, it is indeed the same woman that Rudy met with the other day alongside Miss Miang. Gwen regains ground while money hits the table and a confused girl starts asking questions-- to her, a small, silent wave with her free hand.

Picking up her charcoal pencil with her left hand, she starts jotting notes-- a little more sloppy, but clear enough to read as she holds up the book at Rudy in the next moment:

'y this girl so drunk strong'

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Cecilia watches with a certain awe as Gwen explains their purpose and the armwrestling continues, head tipping a little with interest. "Wow!" she chimes. "What ingenuity! I would never have thought of it!" (She never would have thought of armwrestling sort of in general, tbh)

She looks up to Gwen with a smile, not really appreciating the POWERFUL FOCUS required of such a task. She nods to Rudy's introduction. "Oh, yes. We've met, haven't we?" Perhaps that seals the deal on who this is, as the girl smiles rather more sunnily than last she met Gwen. Which was, admittedly, as they triaged her not-quite-bifurcated father. "It's nice to meet you under better circumstances. And you know Rudy! How lovely!"

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

If Carde is looking for reasons for this anomaly, there's none found in Gwen's red-cheeked happy-go-lucky expression. There's no real reason for Gwen to be that strong. Certainly, she looks strong enough to handle the everyday tasks of a Drifter. If Carde was exactly the nice, normal Drifter-type person that went through saloons like this on a daily basis, a nice, normal Gwen would put up a show.

But Carde isn's a normal Drifter. And neither, it seems, is Gwen.

And Gwen doesn't seem to fully appreciate the fact that Carde is able to step up to the full raw might of the Mockingbird. At least, she's halfway devoted to winning when her attention's focused on it, but when Cecilia comes over, that attention seeps away like sands through an hour glass. "You n' Rudy know each other? He's a great guy, izzint he? Saved my ass moren once! EH RUDY, I WANNA WRESSLE YEW NEXT!"

Rudy, get out while you still can

Then, Cecilia deals the final blow. Well, she already had, but it just took a second for it to sink in, like some Fist of the North Star-esque attack.

The fist quivers against Carde's might. Gwen's blue-grey eyes begin to tear up.

"Why did yer dad have to pass awaayyy-" With a resounding THUD, Gwen's right arm hits the other side of the table, right at exactly the time Cardia was pushing herself against it. Glass mugs fly up a few inches from the impact and spill, all as Gwen looks on in absolute despair.

"My beer..."

This is the scene of Gwen weeping, as one gella coins begin to filter in onto the table in tiny plinks in the spreading puddle of spilled alcohol and water. "Your dad was so nicceeeee..."

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

"Oh," Rudy replies simply as Cecilia announces that she already knew Gwen. As the question of Rudy knowing Gwen coming up, he merely looks toward her, fully expecting her to explain the situation. After all, anytime some speaks on his behalf is usually a thing welcomed by Rudy. Unless people are volunteering him for stuff he didn't mean to, which happens on a weekly basis due to his natural aversion for speech.

Then Gwen talks about how Rudy is 'great' which results in the gunslinger just blushing faintly at the praise. The chagrin soon fades into surprise at the mention of what he'll be doing next. This time, however, he actually speaks. "I don't arm wrestle," the Outcast states , his voice soft and firm. Knowing Rudy, there's likely a story behind that, but he doesn't go into it. Instead, the young man moves toward the table as the writing is held up, leaning over toward it to look at it.

"Well, if you want to know why she's so strong, should likely ask her," the boy replies simply before taking a couple of steps back, as if concerned that the table might break before this match ends. Gwen is strong, as he already knows, so if Carde can keep up Well, should be interesting to those putting money down... Or would have been until the match ended due to the talk of the King's passing. The brown eyes are soon cast down, not exactly sure how will go down. But it's awkward enough to have him looking at his footwear as if it will somehow magically cause him to disappear and not be here for this exchange as he isn't sure how he should handle this.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

The note says enough: Why. Why.

Gwen's strength seems to waver, however, leading to the sudden shift in balance between the two young women, leading to Carde's strength overpowering Gwen as she suffers another mercurial shift in her mood, leaving the mysterious gray-haired dirfter to blink big and owlishly before...

THUD.

The table bucks enough to bounce the cups balanced on it and the money thrown on there too. Cardia quickly grabs the cup of water before it fully spills and gets too far across the table and loose money. Dusting her hands off, Cardia shrinks back a little into her seat while watching Gwen, then looking up at Cecilia and Rudy, then back to Gwen again.

A finger points at the drunken girl before she turns her hands up and gives a small, lost shrug, not quite sure what to do or what to write-slash-say to make the situation better. Her thumb comes close to her lip, pinky thrust out, tipping her head and hand back together. 'Drinking,' then a hand rising next to her head steadily. 'Filled up.' Or, 'too much,' she seems to say in hand signals.

But still, that doesn't explain the strength. Cardia bubbles up a bit inside Carde, HUD elements flicking up into her vision to try to break down what she can-- understand what she can-- through the arm wrestling experience, and what just happened.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Cecilia...didn't entirely expect that to totally topple Gwen, actually. She's distantly surprised by the sudden waterworks, though it tugs at her heart just the same. It's her father, after all...

But she sucks in a breath and assumes monumental calm, before kneeling down (she can KNEEL in this outfit it's AMAZING) and searching for Gwen's eyes with a smile. "Father will be missed by many," she says, quietly. "...myself included. But you gave him valuable time, and I thank you dearly for that." Now please stop crying it is very difficult not to do so myself, she thinks.

Cardia hasn't made a whole hell of a lot of impression yet, which perhaps will prove good for her purposes in a moment, here.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

It may be notable that, when Rudy quietly refuses, Gwen simply nods with that same cheery smile. "Thass fine!" Rudy was able to get through Gwens beer haze with a few words, but -not Carde-.

But right now, all future matches may be off anyway as Gwen is wading through an issue she had previously already dealt with, in a nice, healthy way. That's what the Memorial Tree was *for*, to remember and put a positive note on things.

Whatever sadness may be left from it, thankfully, Cecilia slays. 'But you gave him valuable time.' He was able to see his daughter again. He didn't die on her cart, like a common Drifter. He died a king. And Cecilia is here, showing a quiet resolve that Gwen had barely managed to see her display before.

She wants to remember this. She really, really wants to remember this later, because already theres a few things today that have simply disappeared in her mind like fog spilling over a field.

Instead, she turns in her chair to full face the kneeling Cecilia, quietly looking towards her with a newfound respect. Cecilia's... kneeling, if maybe just to get Gwens attention. She's even calmly thanking her, the daughter of King Justin, a person who has every right to burst into tears, moreso than Gwen.

The courier reaches over in the best, and perhaps only way she can really express her gratitude right now, seeing as how words and logic are currently offline.

"Y'were always thinkin' of everybody, even us Drifters... Thats wh'you said what y'said. Wiss I really appreciated it then." She gives Cecilia a tight hug. She smiles slightly, her next words even quieter. "Keep an eye on Rudy. He's got a good heart."

Its a blessed moment of sobriety, and like a flash of sun before the rain, it passes as soon as Gwen lets Cecilia go.

"Wait... Ask me what?" Gwen says then, Rudys answer finally managing to filter through her sudden wave of despair earlier. "I should ask er too! Miss Carde, howd you git sostrong?"

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

Roughnight is unaware of the conversation about him, his attention still firmly on his shoes. It's safe looking at his shoes most times, As the hug is given and released, Rudy looks up, as if figuring that it's safe and just gives a small and awkward smile. A glance is given toward all three of the ladies. A shuffled foot breaks his silence slightly as he continues to mill. Perhaps trying to be helpful, he orders some waters quietly from Tom, getting them and handing them out to the trio. Then he goes back to shuffling his foot in the ground. BUT HE IS AT LEAST HYDRATED WHILE SHUFFLING WHICH IS A GOOD ROLE MODEL FOR YOUNG CHILDREN.

Or something.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Don't worry, Cecilia. This lady will get to you eventually, you and your rugged '90s cool outfit for adventuring.

For the moment, she adheres to something along the lines of Rudy-- shuffled feet, not quite meeting the gaze of others, letting the two ladies hug out their feelings and get their emotions bared. Gwen is ... very adamant about expressing herself to this blonde girl. Are they long-time friends, or something?

The conversation quickly, suddenly swerves to Carde and her strength. Her gloved hands lift, trying very hard to make humble considering the circumstances. Picking up her pencil-- this time with the hand she's better at writing with-- she jots down one very simple note in nice, clear lettering to hold up at Gwen and Rudy:

'Leverage. It's a science thing.'

It's technically true.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Technically, she can now have Gwen put to death, but instead Cecilia - after a moment's surprise at the forwardness - gently, if lightly, returns the embrace, making a reflexive soothing coo; serving also as an affirmative of a kind to Gwen's tearful thanks. The next words she says are, "I think he'll be taking more care of me, but...yes. I will." She smiles, drawing in a breath as she separates from Gwen.

She glances to Rudy afterward, for some reason. Water! OH BOY actually she's fine with that. Water's great. She smiles, gratefully, and then looks to Cardia. Oh, she's...mute? Apparently? Perhaps? Mysteries.

Well, she guesses it's such, anyway. "Oh, I've heard of that," she says, as if this were a fairly arcane concept. "Though, we mostly spoke of such things in staff training at the Abbey..." As in, like, staff fighting.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

When Gwen hears about what happens tomorrow, shell likely *want* to be put to death. She hugged what is probably the queen, maybe, shes not sure how royalty really works. But for now, Gwens hug is thankfully short enough for Cecilia not to get the stink of Gwendrunk on her clothing.

No, they're not longtime friends.

Gwen's just drunk.

Gwen reads Cardes sign, and quickly nods. "I need to train sommore, looks like! I should- Oh thanks!" Rudy getting some water manages to unintentionally save Gwen from making another mistake: challenging Cecilia to a round of arm wrestling. She accepts the water with a nod of gratitude, then looks to regard the coins on the table.

"You 'hink this'd help peeple 'ere?" She attempts to press the coins together, then looks to the bartender. "'ey! This 'ere is to buy supplies for th' wounded 'ere! And the water!"

"So-" Gwen looks to the other two, grinning widely as she thumbs over to Carde. "Th' is Carde. She can't speak, so she writes. She's a neat 'erson." She blinks.

Wait.

Do Rudy and Carde know each other? And for that matter- "How did y'meet Rudy, C... Mis..." She stumbles over her words, looking to Cecilia helplessly. "How d'I address you? And uh..."

She grins. "Can I armwresstle yew too? Fer charity!"

Rudy you tried

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Gwen's drunk and Cecilia's a kind, sweet girl who lets strangers hug her in bars.

"Ah, Carde? A pleasure, then," Cecilia says, tipping her head forward and smiling. "My name is Cecilia. I'm a Crest Sorceress." She holds out her hand and there's a brief spray of purple-pink sparkles, causing her staff - a fine tool made of fine materials, a metal staff leading up to a winged pentagram at one tip - to appear in her hands. She grins, apparently pleased by this party trick. "Ah, although...I suppose I'm not so experienced as a Drifter." She glances to Rudy, because, he's far more experienced in that life than she.

"Ah...I suppose it was a pretty typical way," she says, with some thought. "We worked together on a dig, and it seemed to work out! And he's been very kind to me even when Father was injured."

Apparently the water doesn't work very well at preventing a dire fate. Cecilia looks placidly at Gwen, then over to Cardia, and then shrugs. "I don't see why not," she says.

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

As the talk of 'how did you meet' comes up, Rudy does his usual go-to procedure: Step one, wait for someone else to explain. Step two, nod in agreement. Step three, repeat as necessary.

While the strategy works perfectly for Cecilia as Rudy follows up with her words with a nod, Roughnight realizes his usual tricks might not work as well for someone else who speaks even less than he does. "Mutual acquaintance," he replies simply as he rubs the back of his head.

Then, then Cecilia is being asked to arm wrestle. "Maybe, um, I should try. I mean, I don't think she's going to be as good at this as you think," he offers with a soft tone, trying his best to gently coax this thing from not coming to be. After all, he's seen what Gwen's ARM arm can do.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Carde, the neat person that's strong and uses science and leverage. And mute.

'A pleasure!' For her part, the gray-haired young woman brings a hand to her chest and lowers her head in a polite bow-slash-nod. Watching the pentagram appear, the sparks of light and the formation of the staff with keen interest, her eyebrows lift and she looks impressed enough by the party trick for her expression to be drawn long in dismay, then nodding with a polite smile on her face.

Reaching down to her coat, she taps on the handle of the gunsmoke ARM holstered under her arm. Not as magically flashy, but like many other Drifters it gets the job done for her. So, she met Rudy when her father was injured. And from how Gwen makes it sound, he... didn't make it through the encounter.

'Cecilia.' Carde's head tilts. Her eyes squint a little. Isn't that the name of Adlehyde's princess?

'C... Mis... How d'I address you?'

No-- she couldn't be. She wouldn't be so brazen as to use her real name and travel in the open inside her own city at it's most vulnerable, would she? ... then again, Mister Roughnight seems to be an unusual young man, the type to be a bodyguard much as she is with Myyah. Wait, no-- don't jump to conclusions. Not yet. More evidence. More intelligence.

The mute Drifter's weight shifts in the chair, suddenly curious. Rudy and Whitlock in an arm wrestling match, too? That would be ... interesting. It might give her a bit more insight into what's what with the blue-haired young man, she ponders over a sip of water. Carde glances to Cecilia again, then points at the blonde girl's arm a little more directly, then points at Gwen. Struggling over the right way to sign it for a moment, she then leans over the page to write quickly: 'Unless you have magic to make your arms huge, she'll probably hurt you.'

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

"Dat's Rudy! Kind n' hard-working! When I tried t'power an electric box usin' m'arm, I was all tired fer days n' he got me food!" She then leans over the table in the direction of Cecilia and Cardia, in a pose that could be deemed 'conspiratorial' if she were more committed to lowering her voice to something softer than a loud half-whisper. "N' one time, this place was gittin' robbed by the Black Ties, n' he went right in all brave n' stuff! That Haunch guy was really scary n' stuff, but he jus' was all polite and told him to stop!"

If Cardia can make any sense of what Gwen just said, there's a lot of intelligence there, despite... the lack of actual intelligence being displayed in the redhead. After all, if there was one skill alcohol did not improve for most people, it's understanding and perceiving social cues, especially Gwen.

Also, there's the matter of Gwen just forgetting that she has an _ARM for an arm_. "Y'think so?" Gwen replies back to Rudy, genuinely surprised by his lack of faith. "I dunno, she mus' be pretty strong if she'sa Crest Sorsceress! I mean, I can't do crests, n' I'm strong, sos she must be stronger." There are no gears turning behind those eyes of Gwen's, Rudy. Your powers of sensible logic will not work here. "I'll leave it to 'er. I've broke a lotta teacups to get as good as I'am wid' handlin' m'arm!"

Somewhere, a very grumpy Aunt Frea just sighs and palms her face.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

And come to think of it, the King died shortly after the attack on Adlehyde, didn't he? (Yes) (there was a whole memorial) (well it was for the whole city, but still)

Cecilia waves Rudy's concern off with a pleasant enough flip of her hand. "Oh, it's fine, Rudy, I'm sure I can figure it out." wait that's not how that sentence is supposed to go---

She laughs lightly at Carde's caution, too, hand coming to her hip, spritely. "I'm sure she's a perfectly gentle soul, Miss Carde." ALSO NOT REALLY ADDRESSING THE POINT HERE

She does, however, grow rather less brash at the mention of the Black Ties, her lips quirking. "Brigands," she mutters, gently seating herself.

Then she looks across the table at Gwen with perfect, wide-eyed innocence. "Ah, now what?" she prompts.

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

A faint red appears in Roughnight's cheeks as Gwen gushes about how he took care of the injured courier and perhaps the talk of Black Ties, depending on how much discretion Whitlock is able to show during her inebriated state.

Then the woman with the writing pad tries the more direct response to help the Princess and Rudy just blinks a couple of times in response, clearly dumbfounded by it. And people call him naïve.

Calmly, the boy with the blue hair just takes a seat next to the fellow protector with unnatural strength. "For the record, we tried," he offers softly toward Carde before takes a sip of water, as if signifying he's washing his hands of this. As if predicting what is to come, he idly rummages through his pockets, pulling out a few Heal Berries from his visit and settles them on the table.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

'She's got to be strong if she's got Crest Magic.' It's a sort of drunken logic that Cardia can't quite refute at this time, though her hand lifts, her mouth opens, and it looks like she's trying to find some kind of way to say something, to sign something, to just deal with that logic to figure out a way to respond. Her head turns to glance at Cecilia, her head slanting sideways before she shrugs a bit.

Wait, when Gwen tried to power an electric box with her arm?

SQUIIIIIIIIIIINT.

The Black Ties-- Brigands, Cecilia calls them. Carde gives only a large nod in resposne to this; though she has yet to actually meet Kent, she's dealt with one of his boys during the attack. He seemed... decent enough, maybe.

Teacups, her arm-- again, her arm. It doesn't seem to be cybernetic, so what's going on here? Is Adlehyde just chock full of crazy things now, and she's going to have a monsterous mountain of a report to write?

'We tried.' Carde gives Rudy a grave, solemn nod. Yes, we most certainly did.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

If Gwen was sober, she'd realize the error of her ways. She would, like Rudy and Cardia, not take Cecilia's confidence as the only proof she needed that this was a good idea.

"Ah, so, you haven't done this before?" She thinks, using that very same right arm to scratch her head. This would be a good time for a sane, logical person to realize 'maybe this is not a good idea. "I guess th'makes sense, you bein' who y'are."

Gwen then extends her arm, like before. "SO I'll jus' show y'how to do it! I'll be the bes' techer ever." Seeing the ever prepared Rudy set out some Heal Berries, Gwen nods. "Good idea. She might kick m'ass. I ain't good w' magic stuff." It's just... not... getting through...

At least one part of Cecilia's words may become true- even while drunk, if Cecilia needs guiding, Gwen takes an active interest in showing her the best way to position her arm, even allowing the Crest Sorceress to test against her left arm. Then, when Cecilia affirms she's ready, Gwen prepares the right ARM, grinning obliviously. "Lessgo!"

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Cecilia sparkles innocently. This is all lovely! She does not interrogate Gwen's boastful claims about her arm too much because, well, that all sounds lovely! How amazing. How does her arm do that. Does she like punch it super hard? Like Pow!!

Cecilia is off in apparently an entirely different world, one where Gwen fights generators like Little Mac, until Gwen starts showing her how to position her arm. She looks at the sample, head tipping in silent uncomprehension.

It takes her seriously like ten seconds to figure out what Gwen wants her to do. "Oh! I see." and....staring again........

is this woman a princess or an ASTRONAUT because she spends a lot of time in SPACE

Eventually she figures it out, between laborious coaching and far ("so I have to put the elbow down?") too many ("o, oh are we switching hands!?") questions ("on the table?").

She still detects no apparent danger. "Alright," she says, obligingly, at Gwen's challenge, and starts to raise her arm. This is the last chance to save an innocent girl's life.

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

There is a long pause as Roughnight just waits for this to go down. There is a sense of doom that fills the air, but Rudy feels all but helpless to try and stop it. That is unless he tries to be tricky.

"If you both are going to have a proper contest, you should likely have a drink to toast the occasion," the young man finally acknowledges as he stands up, his tone somehow carrying just enough to get to all the people it needs to get to as well as Little Miss Cybernetic Wonder. Regardless if they are clasping hands together or not, Rudy merely tries to get up and order a bottle of whisky. But Rudy doesn't know what to order since he doesn't drink, so he figures the bottom shelf should be just fine. But then he realizes that they will just drink the shot and then do it. RUDY THINK FAST WITH A STUNNING LIE.

"And... you can't forget the commemorative breakfast sandwich," the lad adds awkwardly.

It would seem, to the surprise of likely only a few people, Rudy is not good with lying. At all.

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Carde watches the entire exchange in muted disbelief.

In some ways, it's slowly laying the foundation and the idea that this is in fact the Princess of Adlehyde; the sheltered upbringing, the lack of understanding for something as basic and as common(er) as an arm wrestling match; how she carries on with this lack of understanding of things even a cyborg from a secretive space country culture understands. All we need now is for Cecilia to admit she doesn't know how to play rock-paper-scissors or a game of cards, and...

...

Rudy steps in: Drink, toast, sandwich. Carde gestures to the blue-haired Drifter with a firm nod. Hopefully they can get enough water in Gwen that she sobers up a little faster with the toast or ... something.

Hoping to distract Cecilia at least a little bit from her fate while Rudy works his own magic, Cardia scrawls out a note on a fresh page of her book: 'Been a Drifter for long? Guild?'

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Rudy is not good with lying.

Turns out that Gwen really isn't the best at it either.

At the mention of food, Gwen's stomach, ever ready for the introduction of MOR CALORIES, growls in agreement. That dangerous hand is pulled back from its intended target; the courier nods resolutely. "A toast and a commemoemriatev breakfes sandwich!" She grins, then blinks. "Issit breakfes time?" Her stomach growls again. "Who cares, it's breakfes sommwhere." The deadly right arm is raised, waving for Honest Tom's attention. "A toast n' a commemmoratev breakfes sandwich fer everyon' 'ere!"

Thankfully, Honest Tom seems to be on Rudy and Cardia's side, grabbing something particularly alcoholic. He's on their side. He just doesn't quite realize what the plan's supposed to be.

Sandwiches and mugs are placed in front of the four at the table. Gwen raises her glass in a toast and drinks, then starts on her sandwich with gusto.

Turns out, she was very hungry. Though, this may just be the state Gwen is usually in, seeing as how Rudy has seen her scarf down an entire steak dinner by herself..

When she raises her hand to continue her challenge, steely resolve in her eyes, Gwen waits to take the hand of the heir to the Adlehyde throne...

If Cecilia has risen to the challenge, she'll find Gwen's hand is very easy to gently guide to the losing side of the table, even with the most noodlely of noodle strength. And there's a good reason for that.

"Zzz... zzz..." Gwen's blissfully passed out.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

"Sandwich!?" Cecilia says, sounding SIGNIFICANTLY more excited than she has about ANYTHING ELSE that has come up so far. "Ah, how exciting!" cecilia you - you can---no let's let her have this one

She wrinkles her nose a little at the drink but that's okay because - literally between looking at her plate, looking at Gwen, and looking back, her sandwich disappears. She daintily dabs at her mouth with a napkin. "Mmm, they really do make great food here!" she chimes, cheerfully. She makes a face at the taste of the booze, but that's probably fine; it's not for her, after all.

Ah, but the hand is back up! NO, THE PLAN IS FOILED! Cecilia grips it with absolutely not nearly enough force, and--!

Cecilia gently guides Gwen's hand to the far side of the table.

"I win!" Cecilia chimes, with a smile.

<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.

There is a blink as Rudy just processes the chaos about him. In the end, however, it ends with Cecilia eating a sandwich and Gwen being passed out. The blue hair on top of Rudy's head shifts faintly as he scratches his head in confusion. The plan worked, which is supposedly the important thing. "I suppose you did," Rudy replies to the princess with a faint smile which is almost a smirk.

Of course, there comes the issue of now there is a passed out Gwen in the middle of public. That won't do at all. A glance is given toward Cecilia, but she may be too weak to do what needs to be done. And Cardia? Well, Rudy knows her, but trusts her fully is another thing all together considering how mysterious that Miss Miang is. So that leaves himself. Calmly, he moves to take Gwen up into his arms to carefully cradle her unless someone else protests the matter or insists they be the ones to help with the fallen Drifter. The importance thing for Rudy is not who helps, just that help is provided. Either way, his reasoning is still voiced.

"We should likely get her back to room so Gwen can get a good night's rest," Rudy offers to the two ladies that are still conscious before a pause is given toward the evidence of Whitlock's drinking. "A decent night's rest." Another pause is given as he looks at even more evidence. "...A night's rest."

<Pose Tracker> Cardia Ortell has posed.

Victory by ... drunken passing out?

Miss Carde definitely took her turn at trying to distract Cecilia from the arm wrestling match, though it doesn't look like she needed to after all. She looks from the Crest Sorceress to the Drifter and back again, meeting eyes with Rudy in that brief moment with a 'I cannot believe this madness just happened' sort of look of shock and dismay.

It's going to be one hell of a report, that's for sure.

Slipping out of her seat, Carde slides on her jacket and tucks the beaten-up leatherbound notebook into the pocket. Picking up a few coins from bets placed on their prior arm wrestling match, the gray-haired woman points at them, then Gwen while looking between blonde and bluehead. She points at herself, then points over at Tom and gives a thumbs-up to the Drifter and the Drifter-to-be.

'I'll take care of the tab,' she seems to say. She may not know how bad Gwen's bill is, but at least there's enough gella on the table to settle most of it pretty quickly. Giving Honest Tom a nod after the fact, Carde turns back to the conscious pair and pulls a thumb toward herself, then points to the door. 'Have to go back,' she silently mouths out.

A quick gesture is thrown to the door, then she waves at the pair. 'See you later.'

It won't be long after she leaves that Carde will slip back into being Cardia Ortell-- and have some interesting information to pass on...