Jan 13 108 PA - Drinks poker and intrigue

From Chronicles

Moe's is an unruly place at best, and a frightening place at worst. Right now it's some place in the middle. The card game in the back has some noisy bastard who makes it his personal job to notify the entire bar if he's winning or losing money -- mostly losing -- but he must be holding on to a few chips as there are two juicers waiting to get in. It looks like they've discovered they can play tic-tac-toe on their arms with a bowie knife, and the discovery's somehow made the game new and interesting to them. Or maybe they have enough liquor between them to keep things interesting. One thing's for certain -- they both have skin in the game. A pile of dbees, looking like armored toads sit clustered around the tri-dee screens and make fun of the murderball reruns playing above. It seems they think they can do better. Sandwiched between a pair of suds-up dwarves and a mantis-like alien sucking fumes off a sparkler, Johnson sits at a table with a tall ice-filled drink in front of him. It sweats water on the table of the booth in front of him, apparently untouched as he watches the door. Waiting.

Valeriya walks into Moe's with a few sharp glances to the others about. Pausing at the door she takes her helmet off to reveal a grin of accomplishment. Striding forward she quickly takes her seat at the bar, no second glances made or taken to the sword on her back or the pistols on her hip, and she seems to like it that way. "Bring me a cold pitcher of beer." She orders to the barkeep before figuring the vidpoker before her to pull up an idle game to pass some time. Considering her hand she looks around and nods to Johnson.

Johnson's a hard one to read. The helmet and goggles help. Windows to the soul, they are not. Valeriya's nod gets a slight incline of his chin in recognition, and he raises one armored hand in a small wave. Then, before lowering it, he hooks a finger to point at the booth opposite him.

The pitcher is delivered with a mug of questionalbe cleanliness but Valeriya doesnt bother, drinking straight from the pitcher as she raises the table in her vidpoker match. No sign of recognition to the hooked finger is give, probably missed in its silence as the beer and poker take up her visual attention. "I love this place. Cold, proper beer, appropriately priced. None of the expensive fancy beer that the other places have. its just beer, simple, cheap, effective." She remarks before raising the pitcher to the bartender in toast.

She might not notice the finger hook, but she'd sense a looming presence behind her. Just a feeling, the hairs on the back of her neck standing, that something is a little too near. But he's a pair of feet away, head ducked to watch the screen. The glass lies beyond, back at the booth. Untouched and forgotten. "Win or lose?" the monotone voice asks, presently.

"Win of course. What typre of crazy person plays to lose?" Valeriya asks sharply in return. She shows no unease to the unwelcome prosence but the red lizard on her shoulder grows agitated by it. Rising from his perche he turns to hiss at the air behind Valeriya, clearly offended. Absently Valriya pets him a bit to sooth him beofre she bets again.

"For some win, some lose," Johnson replies, and he raises a hand to plant one finger over his face in a 'shhh' sort of motion, looking at the lizard. "Like lake. Dragon win, Tolkeen lose. Dragon tie with us. We get second place." He stands behind Valeria, watching her play her video poker. The woman has a pitcher of beer, while the armored one ... apparently doesn't drink. "Want sure bet?"

As Gabriel ducks indoors, he pauses, considering the atmosphere of the dive at this hour. Still, after glancing backward, he seems to decide that it's worth it, and begins to cross the rowdy sea of humanity - and everything else - on his way toward the bar. Honestly, it's not exactly his kind of place. The Alibi, Nightingale, much more his style. Even the Ivory Lady sometimes. But for now, Moe's Tavern. No one is noticed at the moment.

"No such thing, not in a situation worth betting anyway." Valeriya says to the offer of a sure bet as she collects the winnings from her poker hand. Shrugging she takes another pull from the pitcher. "Besides, none of those games you mentioned are done yet from hwat I've heard."

His hand slipping to the pouch on his left leg, Johnson tugs a bungee off a button and pulls open a flap to draw out a small notepad. He flips the pages, looking for one written in block-type American, and tears it free with one rough jerk. Gingerly replacing the notepad in his pouch, he folds the sheet to pass towards Valeriya. "Sure bet. No loser. Easy win."

Gabriel has yet to notice anyone particularly special. How could you, really, if you aren't expecting it, and you have things as nutty as people slashing themselves to play a child's game that even five-year-olds recognize will always been an inevitable draw. Like the WOPR computer said in the ancient movie, 'War Games,' "Strange game. The only way to win is not to play." Leaning on the bar, the man points a hand past the barkeep in the direction of some sealed bottles of some kind of beverage. One is wise to avoid drinking from any glass that anyone else has ever potentially also touched, and doubly-so in this seedy place of iniquity.

Valeriya shakes her head slightly. "Then its not gambling. Doesnt mean its not fun, but the two shouldnt be associated." She corrects, looking very proper about keeping her sins deviated. She pauses a moment to pen and read thre paper with a shrug. "Those, are my chips, I'm waiting to see yours."

Johnson replies in that monotone voice, "Everything gamble. Come here, gamble. Fight in woods, gamble. Seek treasure, gamble. Sleep, gamble. All risk. All reward. All odds. Only thing not gable life. All lose. All die." He points at that sheet of paper, and adds, "When lists made, gather. Copy. Trade. Together. No risk. You see what get."

As the translucent brown bottle is handed over the counter, the gruff barkeep says loud enough for those nearby to clearly hear, "Last one, you pussy." Nevertheless, Gabriel answers the man with a thank you, a smile, and the appropriate number of credits to pay for the beverage. Allowing the bottle to rest on the counter for moment, he removes his woolen cap and thin leather gloves. The drink is then picked up, the top popped - and allowed to fall to the ground where most all the rest seem to gather. Finally, finally... the older man begins to really scan the other patrons. Hmm. There are two people he recognizes.

Valeriya sighs with clear disappointment. "Well so far you're just like everyone else in the universe. All talk. You have anything useful that I dont already know or can I devote my attention back to playing cards?" She asks Johnson with clear agitation.

"Look at list," Johnson bids. "Short. Small spell." He pauses then, helmeted head staring at Valeriya. The pause grows significantly, as he's motionless there. Finally, the box pipes up. "Not know words speaker knows. You speak Dragon?" He waits for the affirmative, before reaching to his chest to press some keys, head ducked as he makes some changes. The odd language is gutteral and fluid -- more Dragonese than Elf, but to anyone fluent with the language it is impressive. His translator speaks with meter, tempo, even injecting the faint amusement and quiet confidence of the speaker. "I'm giving the most," he confides. "Another show of good faith. We all provide five spells, but mine will be the most advanced. Eyes of Thoth, Ley Line Tendril Bolts, Orb of Cold, Swim as the Fish: Superior, and Mystic Alarm." He pauses, musing with a smile in his voice. Or an extra hiss, as the case may be. "You and I have a common taste in spells."

The older adventurer gets up from leaning against the counter, and begins to wade over toward the two people he recognizes, Valeriya an the new guy, Johnson. Strange new guy. He really can't hear what's being said from this distance, but video poker is still interesting, as is that very strange iguana that the woman often wears on her shoulder like a giant malignant tumor. When he's close enough to be noticed, if indeed he is noticed, it might be seen that his bottle says, "Dobson's Fizz," a non-alcoholic soda. Probably why it was the last one in Moe's Tavern. His drawl is thick today when he says, "Hello Miss Valeriya, Johnson." Each is noted with a nod, in turn. "Too much effort to actually handle a card?" He smirks, but his face and tone would tell most people at least, that it's just in good jest.

Valeriya mutters a dark phrase briefly at the request of a more fluent language. With it she shows no lack of understanding to what is said and replies perhaps more fluently. "That's better. When shall the exchange begin then?" She asked, her mood looking very much appeased now as she takes another pull from her pitcher of beer. "Hello Gabriel, too many cards get drowned in beer I imagine."

Johnson tilts his head to the right, peering at Valeriya. "That spell was not on your list," he utters in that odd language, again sounding more amused than accusatory. "You're getting it again." His gaze turns towards Gabriel, and the voicebox on his chest hisses and spits something at him before he reaches down to turn a dial and press a button, saying again. "Hello. She gamble with machine, think better odds. Less lose."

"Ah. Seems to me that a machine can be rigged a lot easier than just a guy good a hiding an ace up his sleeve. And I know about aces up my sleeve," Gabriel winks as he makes his last statement. "Not that I really get computers like this," he waves his fizzy bottle at the machine, "but certainly the programming is bright enough to switch a number when you aren't looking, and change your cards. Hell, you can't even bluff, can you?" He tilts his bottle up, then, "What're you up to, Johnson? Pestering the poor woman while she's trying to play?"

Valeriya shrugs at being caught in that. "Was my gamble to play." She says in replie to the accusation with a smirk. "And what makes you think you know what I think? Machines are rigged, and dont offer better odds. But they are rigged, their programs are predictable and can be played to ones advantage. Unless they are rigged wrong, nad then you simply dont play." She notes to both gabriel and Johnson, switching fully to American again before turning to look at Johnson directly. "I've also commisioned some tenchowizard items that will add fly, manipulate objects, watchguard and chromatic protection to my pool."

"Pool not matter," Johnson replies. "Good for you. But no trade. One list. Then school. Teach others. Learn." He turns then, seeming to inspect Gabriel, and finally mentions, "You not hurt. Good. Creature not do damage in net. Rifle not work good. Need something new." He tilts his head to peer at the odd pistol on Gabriel's side, before mentioning, "Maybe try that?"

Gabriel responds in the same language that he's being addressed. "Rifle still work. Rifle work better than nothing. Rifle keep working if asshole not trap Gabriel in net." He's brief.

Valeriya shrugs to Johnson. "Just in case you'd rather take those that the others offered really." She explains before considering Gabriel with a flat smile. "Reminds me of that asshole who through a blinder grenade at my feet in the middle of combat." She remarks calmly

Moe's is an unruly place at best, and a frightening place at worst. Right now it's some place in the middle. The card game in the back has some noisy bastard who makes it his personal job to notify the entire bar if he's winning or losing money -- mostly losing -- but he must be holding on to a few chips as there are two juicers waiting to get in. It looks like they've discovered they can play tic-tac-toe on their arms with a bowie knife, and the discovery's somehow made the game new and interesting to them. Or maybe they have enough liquor between them to keep things interesting. One thing's for certain -- they both have skin in the game. A pile of dbees, looking like armored toads sit clustered around the tri-dee screens and make fun of the murderball reruns playing above. It seems they think they can do better. To the left of the bar, Valeriya is upending a pitcher of beer that's damn near empty. If she keeps drinking like that, she may well end up wearing the pitcher as a helmet. Johnson is nearby, leaning against a video poker machine without a drink, and Gabriel rounds out the trio with a brown glass bottle in his hands. A patron near the bar, a weasily little man, snickers when he sees it. 'Pussy,' is the word that he speaks. Johnson shakes his head. "No change, stick to plan. Good plan. Teach later maybe. And you," he points at Gabriel, "Not dead. Dragon not maul. Is good, yes?"

"..will be a while before they get back to me on that sort of custom work," Vixen is saying as she nudges her way into the tavern with one hand, the other sunk into the pocket of her coat. "You know how those kind of guys are." She smirks faintly and casually scans the area as she moves aside for Leo to enter after her. She picks out some faces and considers the noise and flow of the other patrons in a general sweep before she glances back towards Leo.

"Most everything that's worthwhile takes time, though it doesn't always work in reverse." Leonard isn't surprised at the wait, nor the lovely establishment he sees when Vixen moves aside. "How... classy. Do you have a spot in mind?" He's already looking around, hoping to plan a route that doesn't involve trying to shoulder through anyone.

The brown translucent bottle is tilted to pour the 'pussy' fizzy soda down Gabriel's throat. He grunts again in the armored man's (or at least, looks like it... possibly...) direction. "Gabriel is alive. Good, yes. Dragon not dead, bad. Gabriel not in net, maybe dragon be dead. Maybe people not walk into combat zone like gaggle of lobotomized geese, people win battles, not lose battles. Maybe not trip on dicks, if person have dick to step on, otherwise step on someone else's dick for good measure." Yes, he seems mildly perturbed. "Maybe magic person know how to use own weapon, maybe magic person not buttfuck other people helping." But only mildly perturbed. His attention moves back to the tall woman at the machine. His voice is once again up and jovial. "So, Miss Valeria, how much are you up? Or down."

"Nah, we didnt have the firepower on hand to take out the dragon. It would have fled before dying. The result would have been the same. We wasted less ammo letting you play footsies." Valeriya remarks to Gabriel with a smirk. "Live nad learn after all. The trick is suriving your mistakes." She advises as she subtly pockets her winings and boldly finishes her pitcher. "Now excuse me, need to pee." She states clearly, and goes to see if the classyness of the establishment is consistent. If so she may just go outside instead. Either way she may be a while.

"Yes," Johnson replies in that monotone voice. He peers down at the poker machine, the design unscrutable to him, and points at Valeriya as if to reinforce her point. "Is not because no guns. Is because no plan." He eases up onto a stool, facing the bar, subtly shutting out the 'tender. "Plan good. Make plan before leave. Scout. Have pictures. Map. Talk to team. In field with no plan? Against ambush? We not do bad. We live. Need more work next time. Less play." He catches sight of the newcomers, raising a finger to point towards Leonard. "I see him two weeks ago. Mention go lake, make plans. He say no. Valeriya say drop it."

Vixen snorts softly and curls her arm with Leo's. "Where else would we start?" The bar being where she'll start to lead Leo. Aiming just short of those who are gathered there. Her head cocks as she nears, starting to catch words clearer over the din as they draw near to where Gabriel is and Valeriya was. She glances at Johnson, eyeing him for a moment as he points at Leo. Though afterward, she returns her focus to Gabriel as they draw near. "Don't get too deep in that shit unless you got someone to get you back to your place in one piece. Rolling drunks is an old pasttime around here." A faint smirk offered, her tone light as she says as much.

Leonard notices Vixen's eyeing into the periphery well before spotting any points his way. He doesn't catch nearly as much as Vixen, but enough to be curious. "Did I do something wrong?" Johnson gets look from him, as well, but, like Vixen's, it moves to Gabriel after. "We survived. It wasn't pretty, but it's enough. The next venture will go much more smoothly, I'm sure."

The shortish man from Kentucky stands and shakes his head, directing his speech toward Johnson. "Look, buddy, you keep saying these things like they're your own ideas, when I heard Miss Valeriya and myself both say them first. Agreement is good, trading ideas is good, but attempting instruction of someone who just told you how to pull your head out of your ass is not, particularly when you're just repeating back what the fuck they just told you. You have something original to say, tell me something about dragons, because this is an area where you do know better than I do." Gabriel probably wouldn't have quite noticed the others come in, considering the atmosphere of the Tavern at the moment. But, Vixen and Leonard both have voices that he recognizes, and he turns quickly enough to raise his bottle of non-alcoholic fizz in their direction, a gesture of greeting. "Hey, love-birds," he smirks, acknowledging the fact openly for the first time from his point of view. "You feel like harbor trawling today too?" His drawl is abnormally thick today.

"No," the monotone speaker replies to Leonard. He leans back, armor making a small clicking noise as it brushes against the stainless bar. At least he's not scuffing up some nice wood. "Not you. Your part very small. Not fault. Who makes plan go to lake, fault. No plan. No scout. Just go. Lucky not meat grinder." He stares at Leonard, apparently ignoring the fact that, for several people, it was. Gabriel's outburst merits a steady look, those black goggles peering at the man for several moments. "I was late. Not invited. Just came. So you know problem? You knew of trip. Why not scout? Why not plan? Late now to study dragon. Dragon gone. Many kinds of dragon. Like saying, 'Study monkey.' Could be small in tree, could be ape. Could be man. Hard to go after monkey gone."

Vixen sighs at the topic and gives Gabriel a steady look. "I'm just here to look in. Not much has changed here.. at least not when it comes to the total package. Faces though.. new ones." She glances around, then gives Leo's arm a casual squeeze before she releases him and reaches into her coat to draw out her cig case. Going about the slow, but steady procedure of getting herself one and lighting it up. "As to who did what, who cares? Its done, ain't it? Live and learn. Probably shouldn't have gone back there again, but then being a friend ain't always safe."

"It was scouted, and there was a plan." Leonard looks back to Johnson. "Also, I advised you not to go alone, for your own safety, and to contact the woman who was planning the return. Are you sure your helmet is working properly?" He is annoyed, but shifts his attention to the bar. "Do you have any wine?" Simply asking for 'a drink' doesn't strike him as smart, here.

"I'm sorry, did you not happen to notice that we both rode the same damn buggy to that lake?" Gabriel asks with genuine irony toward the always-armored figure. Is the man an idiot, or just a dick? With but a shrug, he turns away. Keeping an eye on the strange, unpredictable... man? Otherwise, his attention is now on the other two, Vixen and Leonard. "You've probably been here more times than I have, Leo, but personally? Avoid putting your lips anywhere that someone else might have - like a wine glass, if they theoretically have one here. Just slum it today, get a beer." He holds up his bottle again with a wide grin. "I'm afraid that according to the good barkeep, I took the last of the pussy non-alcoholic drinks. Miss Vixen." A nod of acknowledgement.

Valeriya returns from her brief excursion to reclaim her seat at the bar and order another pitcher before starting another hand of vidpoker. "You guys done finger pointing yet?" She asks casually to chekc on the progress of the conversation as her beer arrives and she places a bet. Spitz hisses to add his two cents.

"If I would have caught something, I would have a long time ago," Vixen replies casually to Gabriel. "And what's the point of drinking if you're not going to drink?" She eyes the man with an arched brow. She grins then and looks to the barkeep. "Straight whiskey," she orders, casually settling a proper few credits on the bar. Pay upfront. She glances back towards the boys, but seems intent to leave the talk to them for now.

"No," Johnson replies in his monotone voice, towards Valeriya. "Need debrief. Discuss what worked, what didn't. Make better next time. Like on this job. Attack team failed. All died. Why? Why did we do better? Dragon looked like Great Horned. Good at teleport. Good at shape shift. So why bad at magic? Tired? What was plan for dead if I not there?"

Leonard reconsiders. "Make that a beer. Bottle." Gabriel does make a great argument for sealed containers, and Leonard isn't in the mood for anything strong enough to sanitize. He does wonder if he should, though, when he eyes Vixen with a smirk. "That doesn't make me feel all that better, Vix..." The wait for his drink lets him ignore Johnson briefly, but not completely. He opens in, takes a swallow, and notes, "The dead weren't much of a threat, whether you were there, or not."

The older man is torn. Valeriya, making smart-ass comments while bending over what must be a rigged game of video-poker. Plus the amusing iguana. Johnson, who must smell like unwashed feet, armpit, and week-old bacon inside that armor at this point. Vixen and Leonard. Yes, that's a better way to go. Plus, he didn't exactly catch what it was that Johnson was trying to express, anyway. Or even who it was directed at. At any rate, annoying people who don't even have anything apparently useful to say need not be coddled. He does manages to nod his head in the fellow's direction as he moves off, with only, "Johnson," as an exit. He slowly walks back toward the bar proper, and says to the two, "So, you see anything interesting today?" Apparently the subject, in his mind at least, has changed.

"Dunno." Velriya says to most everyhing directed her vague location. Casually she takes another pull and makes another bet before shrugging. "People ignored the scouting. Even you said it wasnt a dragon Johnson.. Dunno what happened in the first fight, but I imagine its magic was nearly exhausted. And most people kept their distance when we went after it. Good thinking there." She muses lazily.

Johnson doesn't move as Gabriel leaves, "Yes," he says in that monotone voice. "Beer and circus. No followup. Half of crew there, just happy be alive. No care why, how." His head tilts back, looking at the ceiling. "Maybe something in air I not smell." He slides from his stool, landing lightly on his feet. To Valeriya he replies, "I also say, impossible to know. No pictures. No samples. Description of shapeshift only." He just rolls his armored shoulders in a shrug, and walks for the door.

Vixen glances back towards Leo as she picks up her drink, considering him a moment before she moves back to his side and casually bumps his hip with her own. Giving him a firm look for a moment before she looks back to Gabriel. "Today has just been business. Custom shit. Trying to get straight answers out of some people is like pulling teeth. But they'll give it up eventually." She shrugs and considers Johnson briefly before she says, "I don't plan to go there no more. So not much left to say about what happened. So who cares?"

The bump startles Leonard, as he didn't see it coming. He was far too occupied with drawing from his beer, which turned out to be better than expected, and looking over the bottle at Johnson, who seems to be more odd than expected. "Hmm? Oh, business, yes, and we're not planning to go back." A slightly sheepish shrug to Vixen before he lifts the beer in a small salute to acknowledge

"No faith, not trust." Valeriya says to continue Johnsons excuses with another shrug. "No honor among thieves. I must say, you lot are the most varied group of theives i've ever hooked up with." Is it a compliment? Insult? Hard to say as she raises her pitcvher in salute. It waivers slightly before she brings it back down for another pull.

Johnson stops halfway to the door, pausing as he eyes the exit. Heel-toeing, the armored man strides towards Gabriel. Or the trio, maybe. He plunges a hand into his pocket and draws forth a small notebook, flipping through the pages standing behind the three. He tears loose a sheet and folds it over, creasing it to plant beside Leonard, wordlessly, and then makes once more to leave.

Vixen glances at Johnson as he pauses, eyeing him as he does his thing with the notebook. When he sets the paper down near Leo, she looks to Leo with a frown and a questioning look. Though she then considers Valeriya and says, "I dunno what you're talking about, chick. I'm no thief. And I did what I was there to do. Drive people. I didn't go to get in a fight and that was made clear. But we don't always get what we want."

Leonard is surprised yet again when the shift to other things is interrupted by the delivery. "What is this?" That may be rhetorical, asked, as it is, while he retrieves the paper to open and read it. He studies it with obvious confusion, then realization. "Ah, yes." It's folded again and moved to his own pocket before Leonard looks to Johnson, now without the stigma of before. "Where would you like to receive them?"

Caliopa arrives with others, but not with them, slipping in behind them. She heads for the bar, hesitating before she joins Vixen and the others. "Beer please." She orders and pays quickly, giving Vixen and Leonard a sunny smile as she takes the first swig, uncertain of their companions.

Johnson just raises a hand as he walks out, the monotone voice hard to hear. It's not loud, and it's pointed away, but it sounds awfully like, "I find you."

Gabriel laughs behind himself at Valeriya's comment. "I've never stolen anything in my life - that didn't need stealing for the good of the people, peace, and freedom." Okay, perhaps it's a fine-line qualifier, but it's still there. An eyebrow is arched as the folded paper is plunked down near Leonard, and he waits for it to be read, eyes jerking at Johnson shoots out the door. "Love letter for you? Wants a bouquet and chocolates?" The older man smirks and takes what he hopes will be a happily-familiar gentle punch to Leonard's shoulder. "You want me to follow him, let you know you're taken?" Translucent brown bottle is tipped up again, which also elicits a whispered comment of, 'pussy' from the bartender. Sure, it's non-alcoholic. So what? "Speaking of being taken... you come down yet, or flying high a little longer? Not that it's any of my business." His drawl is moderate at the moment, and unfortunately, had to raises his voice over the cheers of some idiot scoring in the Juicerball game up on the television.

"Suit yourself, didnt mean to offend." Valeriya replies to Vixen after a moments speculation. She almost turns back for another pull from her pitcher before Caliopa catches her eye. "Cali, good to see you. Your drink's on me." She says, signalling for another pitcher for Caliopa. "Got a samll machanic job for you if you want to talk about it." She explains as the complimentrary breverage is brought.

Vixen seems to get a sense of what the note was over after the brief interaction between Leo and the armored guy. And that lets her turn her attention elsewhere. "I'm not offended, but it's good for things to be clear," she replies to Valeriya. "Terms like that are fluid. Depends what the person that says it means." She then smiles over at Cali and says, "Hey there, girl. How you been doing? Good work on the door, by the way. Good as new, pretty much. Might be a pipe dream, but I want to try and keep my baby pristine." Leonard shakes his head through a chuckle that stutters at the gentle punch. "No, If he needed to be followed, or that explained, I'm sure that Vixen would handle both very well. Flying?" That takes a half-second before his head shakes more. "Oh, no. Not quite that extreme." He waves his bottle to Caliopa in return, but doesn't interrupt the ladies. Perhaps he's basking in his new fatherhood to a truck.

"There a time I've said no to talkin' about work?" Caliopa's smile easily lights up her face as she leans against the bar, turning towards Valeriya with a questioning look on her face. "Good as new for certain. I ain't turnin' no work out that ain't perfect." Vixen gets a grin and a look, the tech-head mostly joking.

The rather short, rather older adventurer would never just walk up to someone in a bar - man or woman - and simply brazenly introduce himself. However, as he's with friends, this new woman may well become a secondary friend by extension. Thus it is that Gabriel swaps his soda into his left hand and bends forward slightly - not necessarily down so much as forward - and extends a hand in greeting to the young stranger. When he addresses Caliopa, he's obviously doing nothing to conceal his Kentucky drawl. "Hello, miss, my name's Gabriel. Miss Vixen and Leo here, good people." It's clearly evident that he knows that she's well aware of this fact, but also probably obvious that he doesn't want to intrude on her conversation with Vixen any further than politeness would allow. He then just waits politely, as it's a woman's prerogative as whether to acknowledge or not.

"Guess not." Valeriya replies. "Though in my defence i dont knwo you trhat well yet hun. Job's simple I have aquired a bike with pulse lasers. Celaeno has a bike without pulse lasers. Want to take them off mine and put them on hers if it can be done." AShe explains before taking a pull from her pitcher and looking at Gabriel. "What am I? Chop liver?" She asks accusingly with a clearly agitated slur. Looks like shes getting to be inebreated.

"Yeah. I had to give her a touch up for the paint after she got rolled over a couple days back." Vixen makes a face as she speaks to Cali. "But I'm good with paint. Usually on walls, though. But the truck wasn't hard." She lifts her class for a swallow, her eyes closing briefly, then opening again. A rough breath and she glances to Leo. "You can talk for yourself," she says to him. Gabriel gets a casual smirk before she considers Valeriya casually. She seems inclined to not comment there. Instead, she takes another swallow.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to exclude you for insult." Leonard speaks for himself, to reassure Valeriya. "That, or he has strange ideas on what makes someone a good person. I never would've included..." His eyes and grin drift to Vixen, "myself."

Caliopa blushes, her reaction shy as she glances to Leonard and Vixen, almost checking with them before she answers Gabriel. "Cali. Caliopa. But only my pa calls me that." She takes his hand, her own rough with oil ingrained. "They are real good folks." She smiles as she glances at Valeriya. "That ain't a bother, you bring them down. Vixen, you oughta have brought her to me. I'd have done it for you."

With a smile, Gabriel gently shakes Caliopa's hand before releasing it. "It's good to meet you, Miss Caliopa - though I promise to use 'Cali' from this point on. Excuse me one moment, please." The man hikes his head around damn-near backwards and calls over the shouts at the television, "Wasn't leaving you out, Miss Valeriya, just didn't want to break your poker face." He then turns back and offers a humorous wink to the three gathered nearby. Obviously, one does not require a poker face to play video poker, particularly when one is in the middle of getting hammered and playing video poker at the same time. He addresses the three at once, just briefly winding up a four-pack conversation. "Myself, I like the cards. They get dealt, everyone sees them, everyone plays 'em, and when someone gets caught with a hand of five aces, you know that someone's cheating." The last thought gives his face a bit of a personally-humorous smirk.

Valeriya shakes her head before pulling bakc the last of her second picture. "Whatever." she remarks blandly as she loses the hand. "I better move on, rooms getting too drunk for me. She notes before rising with a nod to Caliopa. "Sure thing, I'll let Cel know and get us both down there for the transfer." She says before shifting towards the door.

"I wanted to do it," Vixen tells Cali. "Art is a thing I enjoy." Leo's words prompt her to hip bump him again with her hip and give him a sidelong glare. Though the next moment she's glancing towards Cali and a soft grin comes to her as she adds, "We should talk later, me and you." Though the why remains unspoken, save for that lingering smile. Though she does glance towards Valeriya thoughtfully as the woman moves to head out. "Watch yourself. Always eyes looking for marks just outside of places like this." Not that she seems too concerned with that possibility.

Leonard is collided with, but he expected to be hit with something, this time. Not even a drop of beer is lost. "Would you two like to talk, now? It might be getting too dangerous for me." Were Valeriya not going to see if the street is also drunk, it could've possibly been three. "I'm sure that Gabriel and I could find something to do." Gabriel may be much older and harder on the eye than they, but there is that Y chromosome. His last question is aimed for the man, "Whose turn for is it to bore the other with bold stories?"

"Ain't ever played poker, not to my 'memberin'." Caliopa replies with an easy smile. "See you, Valeriya. You bring them down." The interest in her face at the thought of the work is obvious, her face clearly not a poker one by any measure of the words. "We should? If it is about the other, I still ain't got none to talk over." The warmth in her face slides off leaving it wary as she glances back at Vixen.

"Ah, let's try to pick something new. Too many people are getting bored of my boring stores. Have to hoard 'em for a pre-Apocalypse novel or something, right?" Gabriel chuckles at Leonard before taking a sip from his fizzy bottle. Valeriya's travel and departure is noted with only his cliche, "Be safe, Miss Valeriya," that follows every woman going into the great outdoors. To be as little intrusive as possible, he comments in Vixen and Caliopa's direction only, "Poker's a good game. Baccarat's complex, but I'm good at it. Natasha was awesome at blackjack. No idea how she did that." The man smiles in everyone's general direction. "Maybe poker night would be a fun way to pretend that the world around us isn't going down the hole. At least," he offers with an open arm and bow, "from my perspective."

"Yeah I'm always looking for good marks." Valeriya agrees with Vixen with a wide grin. and then she's gone

"It's all about me," Vixen replies to Cali with a casual smile. Though she looks to Leo then and back to Gabriel. Thoughtful for a moment before she says, "I'll catch her another time." She looks to Cali and adds, "Me and you can settle over some drinks and I'll blow your mind a bit." She grins and then notes to Leo, "You trying to get away from me or something?"

Leonard considers the alternative to stories. "Cards wouldn't be bad, though I'm sure I'd end up creditless no matter what the game or wager." He hasn't gone anywhere, and attempts to nudge Vixen back as she's tagged him twice. "No, I'm not trying to get away from you. I'm just trying to share. We've been hiding away from the snow quite a bit, and I don't want to interfere with the... girl talk?"

"World ain' goin' down a hole. Ain't much different to how it always been, as far as I can see." Caliopa's optimism is showing as she smiles at Gabriel, reaching for her drink finally. She takes a swig of the beer, glancing at Vixen with a quick smile. "Reckon you'd have to teach me baccarat 'n' all, 'n' reckon you'd have to teach me to go girl talk."

Gabriel waves a politely dismissive hand at his friend. "Aww, only time people play for money is in the barracks, on leave, or in a proper casino. You play at home, you play for candy, or fresh cookies or something. Someone wins, people laugh, and are just as wealthy or just as *not* wealthy as when they arrived." Gabriel smiles at Calipoa's comments, but is rather unsure as to what to say, whether to intrude on the conversation, or if he was in fact even addressed in the first place. Thus, the matter is let be for the moment. But, ah, no here it comes. "Ladies, you're fortunate to be born when you were. Apparently born, at least. In my time, if men were talking, and a woman wanted to add input, she would usually got something along the lines of, 'go fix your hair, men are talking.' I was *not* one of these men," Gabriel makes is as plainly apparent as possibly can, through tone, choice of words, and body language, that he indeed was not. "Natasha would have broken my nose, and had a further twenty-four daughters to answer to." He holds up a hand. "Yeah, twenty-four. Story for another time."

Vixen smirks at Leo, then considers Cali. "Don't know much about games and such. I don't tend to mess with 'em." She pauses, then notes to Leo, "Gamble if you want, but gamble with your money." She then looks to Cali and gives her a little grin. "Girl talk is easy. I know you'll take to it." When Gabriel comments, he does get a narrow eyed look from Vixen. And while she relaxes, her tone is firmer when she notes, "Good thing you aren't. Guy tells me some shit like that, he's about to get knocked on his ass. If he's lucky."

"Your Natasha was ahead of her time, I'd say." Leonard wouldn't think to say anything so rude, much less expect to happily live through the consequences if he did. "Cookies. Cookies sound better than credits." He nods to Gabriel and defends himself from Vixen, both. "Now... I think that I need another beer." The last of his own has disappeared, nearly to his own surprise. Thankfully, the bar's handy, and he can just set it on the counter to exchange, with payment.

Caliopa finishes her beer, glancing between them all before she speaks, "Reckon I've to get back. You come by, Vixen, 'n' we'll have your talk." She puts the emptied bottle on the bar, giving Gabriel a smile, "'n' reckon you'd get trouble off them." With that, the petite mechanic is heading towards the door.

The woman's departure caught him slightly off guard, and Gabriel is denied the ability to give a new introduction a proper new send-off. In its place, he calls quietly after the petite girl, "Nice to meet you, Miss Cali. Be safe out there." But then, once again, to Leonard. "Yes, Natasha was quite a woman. Far ahead of her time, and a helluva lot smarter than this fool," he thumps his chest softly with a fist.

Vixen lifts a hand after Cali, then is amused with Leo, giving him a sidelong glance. "I think I should leave you boys to talk." She swallows the last of her glass and casually lays it on the bar. "Don't figure you two will have trouble entertaining one another. Just don't come home too sloppy, huh?" S he says the last as she turns to Leo fully, giving him a look in the eye. "Got that, babe?" Leonard only just received his second beer, and doesn't open it yet. The eyeful from Vixen stopped that for the moment, and he nods. "Yes, dear. Just two." He waggles this one a little to show it's the last, and smiles to soften his reply. "They're all smarter than us, I think," is spoken sidelong towards Gabriel.

The older man nods and allows, "Oh yes, and you'd best let them be smarter than you, no matter what, or you might catch hell for it.. if you don't have the right woman." Gabriel pats the chest pocket that contains his few mementos from the past, and winks obviously in Vixen's direction. He then adds, "Two beer maximum? Most places have a two drink minimum, don't they?"

"You can have more, but I'm not holding back your hair," Vixen tells Leo with a light grin. She lifts her hand to lightly stroke his hair back a little on one side. A kiss planted on his cheek. She then glances at Gabriel and says, "Leo can do as he will, but he knows I'm not his mother." She grins and turns then to make her own way out, hands settling into her coat's pockets along the way.

"I'll behave." Leonard leaves the assurances at that. "You be safe." He doesn't expect her to be anything else, but he can still remind her. The beer is opened after she turns, so he can sip while watching her head out. "I might catch hell now and then, but that's only when I deserve it." He doesn't have any doubts about any 'if's.

Gabriel raises his bottle toward Vixen, and makes two comments. First, an observation about his bottle: "Damn, it's empty." Second, "Good seeing you again, Miss Vixen. Stay safe out there, the snow's piled high." He'll watch her go for a moment before turning back to Leonard. "That mean that you do get shit-faced drunk, go stumbling home with your arm wrapped another woman from time to time?" The older man grins widely. Very widely.

Leonard wasn't expecting that, enough that he forgets to swallow before trying to respond. Most of that long pull winds up coughed and sputtered out. "Not hardly. Even if I could blame the alcohol, I'd never be able to do that. Not more than once." He seeks out something to wipe his mouth, ultimately deciding that his sleeve is the safest. "She wouldn't keep anyone from doing anything stupid, just warn and then remind about the warning, after."

Then it's Gabriel who doesn't entirely understand what was just said to him. "Umm.. yeah." Probably doesn't matter. After peering with one eye into the open bottle, he sets it on the counter. He winks at Leonard and calls over the bar, "Hey! You got any other non-alcoholic pussy drinks in a bottle or a can?" There's a roar of loud laughter, and an aluminum can comes flying out of the air, which he doesn't actually "deftly" catch, more like "grabs it with the tips of his fingers in an attempt to remain two-feet in bounds" catch. "Thanks, pal." Credits are plunked, and he peers at what he's just paid for. His eyebrows slowly creep up... and reads the label in an official tone. "Pandora's Caffeine Blaster, Makes You Shit, or Your Money Back." Gabriel smiles and shrugs at his friend. "Better than getting buzzed!" Pop-shhhht goes the top. Finally, he moves to conversation. "How'd you and Vixen meet, Leo? If it's any of my business."

"I..." Leonard isn't so sure of Gabriel's evaluation on the drink, but will leave him to it. "We met by chance, here in the city. The Nightingale, I think." The uncertainty makes him frown in thought, but he tries to move the conversation along, anyhow. "She was one of the first people I became acquainted with in Kingsdale."

Gabriel points his can - which is somewhat ineffectual as a pointing device - at his friend. An eyebrow is arched as that realization is made, and his simply lets it go, lowering it to his waist and using a Nature-designed pointing-device, the human index-finger instead. "You'd best sit and think, long and hard about where the two of you met. Kind of question that will come flying out of nowhere and end up in an argument. Doesn't happen often, but when it does, it can be very bad," he says, speaking from excellent experience. "Fortunately, Natasha and I met under such unusual circumstances that it was hard to forget. In fact, now that I think about it, it was somewhat like having your brother set you up on a date with his best friend's sister." Then, looking at Leonard again, "You're quite fortunate, as am sure you well know. A good woman is hard to come by. As are good friends - which is why I'm still deciding on you!" Chuckle chuckle chuckle. Tentative sip at the drink, face cringes. "Oh dear God... taking the Lord's name in vain and everything, but this is horrible. Better than licking a 'cleaned' glass, though."

Leonard scratches at his temple with the mouth of his bottle and nods. "I'm fairly certain it was the Nightingale, and it hasn't been all that long." He's half musing aloud, half conversing. "Thankfully, we haven't argued much, though they were ..." he sighs, "more than enough." Gabriel's swearing makes him chuckle. "You'd be better off with a beer."

"I don't want to sound like a teetotaler, but I avoid alcohol unless I know that I'm somewhere safe, like an indoor dinner party, or a well-populated gathering in a park. Never know when someone's going to try to sneak up at you in your own home and kill you. Good reason to hide your home." Gabriel nods at Leonard and sips at his drink with another cringe. "I was a rather wealthy man, Leo. Goes back to being very good at card games and suckering the arrogate wealthy with CIA seed-money. I figured that they owed me for what little they gave me for my services." Wink. "Natasha and I burrowed a home into the side of a Virginia hill. Both of us were pilots - are pilots - and we flew out of our own runway. No one was ever able to track us, not even Langley. A good safe place." He glances away and chokes on his drink a little. "Ah. Sorry. I seem to have meandered off of the subject of drinking. So... I tend not to drink." He stares at his can with a questioning look.

"And I used to have nothing," Leonard shrugs, taking another slug of beer. "Now, I'd say I have just about everything I'd want, and definitely more than I expected. Not all wealth can be spent, of course." He tries a fraternal nudge at the other man's shoulder, with a chuckle. "You're allowed to expound and run off on tangents. I'm envious of the home, still. We have one that suits us fine, though it isn't quite ours in the truest sense. That's on the list, though."

Gabriel bobs his head as the other man speaks. "Yes, yes, all true." He clearly enjoys the friendly nudge. "Well, home? It's where you make it, you know. You can have a house anywhere, but home is a specific place that can't be taken away. Maybe save up, get a nice spot over on the River Walk?" He smiles, then frowns at his bottle and sets it on the counter, pushing it carefully away, but without comment. "Years in the future do you hear the sound of little pattering feet?"

Leonard must nod at the explanation of home. "We're not wanting or lacking, but I'd like to buy something we like, then make it as we want. It seems more ...real." The last question gets a vague, partial shrug. "I don't know, but the idea isn't terrifying." Another swallow before he adds, smirking at his own uncertainty, "Not completely? For now, she's family, the only family I have, but that's also good enough for me."

More nodding, more avoiding the aluminum can on the counter. More pushing it away, just to be safe. "Well, family is family. Doesn't matter if it's small, like the two of you, or large, like the twenty-six of us. Before grand-children." Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows at the other fellow. He maneuvers slightly off-topic. "Hey, by the way, Leo. I honestly can't tell you what possessed me to wander in here, but I did. Miss Valeriya and Johnson were here, obviously. You know he's doing something with her? Trading spells or something? I really don't understand, but I had to wonder. Just because I'm overly-curious." Casual conversation?

"That's the exchange I mentioned," Leonard explains, patting his vest pocket with his free hand, "and the purpose of the note he left me. I'm part of it, as are one or two others, I think. The concept is sound, and I wished that I'd been able to organize something similar. This makes things more complicated, but also more simple, in some ways. I just need to write out the requested invocations for him to distribute."

"That could be a problem," Gabriel says. It's afternoon at Moe's, and in the mid-range of rowdy, between full bar-fight, and people smoking weed, eating Doritos, having casual sex and meditating. Which would be really weird to see Juicers doing. At any rate, the short Gabriel is standing up at the bar counter, pushing away an aluminum can, and speaking with Leonard, seated next to him. A Juicerball game is in full bloom, and some idiot has apparently decided that 100% volume would be a good idea. "Just how many others, and how are they tied to him? Complications, I would guess, if some leg of that association broke? People confused a bit?" The man arches an eyebrow in question, but also glances around behind the counter, possibly, well, probably looking for something specific.

Leonard shrugs, a gesture which has come easily to him tonight. The beer or two might be responsible for the more casual air, or he may just be relaxed, for a change. "It's all academic, so far as I know. A trade of notes, to put it very simply. It would be notice ff someone chose to share only once or twice, then went on their way, but not surprising."

The door of the tavern opens, admitting not just a gust of cold air from outside, but also to let a small Inuit woman enter the tavern. The great white bear who follows her lowers his head to whuff inside, but he retreats to park himself on the outside of one of the windows. Ready, if anything happens. The small woman steps in, a flurry of snow accompanying her. Monique's dark-eyed gaze wanders over those already within the tavern, and then she starts to make her way further inside. She is, by no means, a common sight here, seldom venturing here in the years that she's been living in Kingsdale.

With all of the commotion, it's difficult to notice a short Eskimo woman, even if she's momentarily accompanied by a snuffling bear. In fact, Gabriel quite simply doesn't even notice the door swinging open. Instead, he just continues to speak to his friend, and continuing to push the can farther and father away. "So... you guys -" whatever he means by that distinction "- just trade notes, and BOOM -" he explodes his right hand's fingers to help illustrate his point "- you have a new... skill? Seems a fine way to learn things, that's for sure. Like having someone beam knowledge into your head." The older man cocks his head for a moment, considers, and says, "I think I saw that happen in a movie once. Can't recall the name, though."

"Well..." Leonard chuckles and headshakes, "it's not quite that simple, though far easier than trying to puzzle everything out from nothing. It's akin to a... complicated recipe. Someone could hand it down, or write it down, but it still requires practice. The alternative is to start adding ingredients and try, try again until it comes out correctly." Between the conversation at the bar, rowdy patrons, and the blaring game on the screen, he doesn't notice anyone step in just yet.

Stepping a little further into the tavern, Monique rather pointedly ignores what looks her cold-air entrance might have earned. She has weapons on her person, but she doesn't seem unfamiliar with their presence, and she lifts a hand to push back the hood of her parka. She starts to look around for a small table, preferably empty, leaning a little on the spear that she's carried in with her. She limps a little bit, moving at least out of the way of the door, and she frowns slightly as she still looks for a table for herself. Preferably one that's on the other side of the room from those engaged in casual sex.

Gabriel lets out a loud laugh and speaks to Leonard. "My father told me - in Polish of course, so this isn't a perfect translation - 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. If at second you don't succeed, fuck it and move on to something else." The older man seems to find this bit of life philosophy quite amusing. "There's always more than one way to do something. Or, 'skin a cat' as they say. Unfortunately, growing up through the Great Depression, I can directly attest to that." he offers a sad shrug. While he has yet to spot the small Eskimo woman, he has at least notice the minor commotion that *someone's* presence has caused. "Wonder what's going on over there, beyond the assholes tuning in to Juicerball. Football and baseball are the only real sports, and everyone should know that. Sorry, Leonard, you were saying? You can basically mix up your own recipe, it just takes longer than having someone write it down for you?"

Leonard nods, bottle bobbing with as he drains down the last of it. "Basically." It's a very rough metaphor, but trying to explain the finer points would be tedious, and this isn't the place or time. He does follow the implied question, however, and turns his attention towards the commotion. "I've no idea, but if someone begins firing, it's time to go..."

The Inuit woman at last manages to find a small table which is free, and thankfully, near to a window. It takes only a moment for the head of the great white bear to appear beyond the window, and she lifts her left hand to lightly touch her fingers to the glass. An attempt at reassurance, though Tornaq isn't so easily reassured at this point. She leans the spear against the wall near to her, then pulls out a chair to sit down, doing so with some minor discomfort. She doesn't remove her parka, though she does settle an elbow to the table and rest her forehead against the palm of her hand. With an unsuccessful hunt, a stop for food became a necessity.

First the older man comments on the possibility of a genuine bar-fight. "Never get involved in a land-war in Asia, and stay out of other people's bar-fights unless your own life is on the line." Then he shakes his head with both a smirk and a frown. Then, "Um.. Monique, right?" Gabriel asks softly, making a mild gesture in the Eskimo woman's direction. "She looks kind of out of place. I mean, I look out of place... but she looks seriously out of place, don't you think? Doesn't look none-too-happy, either." He turns his head to look at Leonard and suggests, "Damsel in distress?"

"Hmm... Sitting alone, head in her hands..." Leonard considers the Inuit woman now that she's noticed. "I'm not an expert, by any means, but I think that would be a safe assumption." He gestures to Gabriel with his empty to suggest, "Hero to the rescue? I already have a damsel, and one is enough. Though, I suppose I could support?"

Monique turns her dark-eyed gaze to the window, sensing the growing worry and agitation from the bear waiting outside. She lifts her free hand to touch her fingers to the glass, and on the other side is his black leathery nose. Lifting her head from her hand a little bit, a faint smile finds the corners of her lips. She stays seated, easing her position slightly and waiting, no doubt for a waitress to come. She doesn't seem to be paying too much attention to the others within the tavern, interestingly enough. The bear, watching over her from the outside, will warn her.

"Small unit tactics, no one breaks down to smaller than a two-man fire-team, save for the one man on point, and Tail-End Charlie. Natasha and I premiered the use of two people in covert operations, agent and operative combined team." Gabriel seems to be rattling off advice to Leonard. The older man is standing, leaning against the bar, and immediately next to him is Leonard, seated on a stool. Moe's Tavern is midway between an uneasy peace and complete chaos as a abnormal number of people have crammed themselves indoors to watch a Juicerball game on the television - each one seeming to be arguing his own view on the finer points of the game, and of course, money changing hands as bets are made... and lost. The fellow from Kentucky resumes with, "Certainly couldn't hurt to have a 'wingman' as the fly-boys and sailors trying to score on a cheap girl in a bar like to put it. Might as well see if the girl needs some cheering up, right? Can't hurt." Without waiting for any confirmation, yes or no, he starts to slowly and carefully make his way over to the small Eskimo, who is seated near a window at an otherwise empty table, head on her hands.

Leonard chuckles. "Consider me your partner, then." He stands from his stool in preparation for 'flight' and deposits his empty bottle on the bar. After a moment's pause, he pays up for another. That might put him over the soft limit, but he doesn't open it, either. What he does do is use it as a pointer to let Gabriel know they can move on when he's ready.

The great white polar bear taps his nose to the glass, whuffling and shifting uneasily there on the outside of the building which holds his little shaman. He could break the glass, easily. Warned by the bear's actions, the small woman lifts her head from her hand, the fingers of her other hand lowering from the window's glass as her attention turns to the room itself. She remains seated, looking weary, and perhaps if she weren't of darker skin colouring, she'd look pale. Something isn't right, though, or such seems quite likely.

With just one glance at Leonard's third beer of the day, Gabriel turns and walks rather swiftly toward the woman. His friend was warned, two beers, or at least don't come home sloshed. He pointed it out... beyond that, none of his business. Soon, after weaving his way quickly between screaming patrons, Gabriel is at the young woman's side. Well, not exactly. Just close enough to chat without being intrusive. Clearly, he does his best to remove his drawl from his voice - but is only mildly successful. If he were on a mission, it would be better. But not so much in civilian life. "Pardon me, Miss Monique, are you... in distress?" Seems like an obvious question to get an obvious answer, but you start small.

Like any good partner, Leonard lets Gabriel go first, all under the guise of guarding the rear flank. The beer remains unopened as a contingency plan. "Are you alright?" He asks the obvious and repetitive before looking to the window. "And your friend?" ooc :may be a little slow on typing. I'm busy brushing out someone's hair.. someone who is milking the hour to go to bed...

Sometimes with Monique it's best to start with an obvious question. The subtleties of the English language are sometimes lost on her. Her dark-eyed gaze, pupils dilated more than normal, settles on Gabriel when he draws near, and she tilts her head slightly to one side. The question is considered, weight out for a lingering moment, and then she lifts one of her shoulders in a faint shrug. "Depends how mean distress. If mean hurt, yes," she says quietly, sounding weary as well. Unusual, perhaps. "Tornaq not hurt. Tornaq worry," she adds, looking to the window for a brief moment before her attention returns to the mean who have come up to her. Though her attention is more on Gabriel, since he's closer.

Gabriel's countenance takes on a very fatherly look, and he even goes so far as to bend down so that he can get his face closer to hers. "Hurt? Physically? Do you need to get to a doctor?" He gazes out the window at 'Tornaq' whom he still seems unfazed by, for better or for worse. "Maybe this isn't the best place for you to be, Monique. It's not exactly a classy joint, y'know. These guys," he waves his hand behind him to indicate the raucous crowd, "they'll go nuts if someone wins. Or loses. You could get hurt." Maybe he's way off the mark. Perhaps it's emotional. But it's a good place to begin.

Monique's dark gaze holds to Gabriel as he lowers to be more at her level, and she tilts her head faintly to one side. The bear's nose presses as close as possible to the glass without breaking it, each breath fogging the glass. "Need food. Hunt bad, not make kill," she says quietly. She doesn't like admitting her failures, but sometimes the animals are evasive, even to the combination of herself and Tornaq. They tried, until she tripped and fell. "I not want be hurt more," she adds, her brow furrowing as her attention holds to the Kentuckian. Outside, Tornaq rumbles and whuffles, anxious and worried and managing to keep himself from pacing.

The older man nods in a fatherly way, resisting the urge to reach out and lay a comforting hand on her head. "If you need food.. we should take you somewhere else. Even if it's just Happy Burger, it's better than this place. Greasy food is better than no food. In fact, here," he reaches into the small pouch at his side and pulls out a bar-shaped thing wrapped tightly in a dark brown plastic. The words, "K-Ration: CB" stamped in very official government lettering. "This isn't going to fill you up, but it'll give you some energy. Tastes good, too." He gently places it on the table in front of her... but not too close. He turns behind him to his following friend. "What do you think, Leo? Silver Spoon, or Happy Burger? Happy Burger's probably faster, I guess." Then more quietly, "Don't suppose you can, I don't know... check for a broken bone or something? I'm afraid that my transition from 1959 to 107 PA knocked a bit of knowledge out of my head."

"Maybe you could-" Leonard was about to suggest that one of them could acquire Monique some food, but is once more proving to be repetitive and redundant. He chuckles lightly and twists open the saved bottle. "I think you've got everything well in hand, Gabriel." After a swallow from the beer, he gestures to the door with it. "It's probably time I go find my own damsel and make sure that she's not in any distress... or has reason to cause any." To the woman, he advises, "If you need any healing, or most anything else, you should see Sage. I'm sure that she can help you."

The small woman lifts a hand to brush a bit of her hair from her face, idly tucking it behind one of her ears. "Not need much food. Just need little," she says softly. Her skin is kind of cool, clammy, the initial stages of shock starting to creep up onto her. Tornaq becomes more agitated outside, pawing at the deep snow and grumbling more vocally as he senses what his little shaman is going through. Lifting a hand, Monique gives the black plastic wrapped thing an idle poke which seems to be a testing one. Attempting to determine what it is or perhaps how to get into it. It proves her unfamiliarity with prepackaged foods. She lets it sit for a moment, then picks it up a bit hesitantly to sniff at it a little before trying to open the package. She ends up holding it in both hands, then using her teeth to tear the plastic, much as she's observed wild animals do. Yes, Monique the wild animal. Sometimes her lack of socialization really shows. Having fought the package to get it open, she sniffs a little at the food revealed, then takes a small bite. "Mmm... bone broken, yes. Did set. Was bleeding," she says quietly. The food gets another little sniff, and then she takes another bite of it. It seems to be acceptable, at least.

The older man takes only a moment of his time for pleasantries with his friend, as there are now more important, more immediate matters to be dealt with. "You take care, Leo. Not such a great part of town to be hiking around. Maybe you do one of those portal things?" Then, "Vixen gets upset because you're too loaded, I got your back. 'No, he only had two beers. Guess he's a lightweight.'" Gabriel grins ferally. "Catch you later." Then it's all about the young woman. "Chocolate's a good remedy for a lot of things, Miss Monique. But it doesn't heal bone. Finish that bar up, and I'll get you some water, then I'll take you to a doctor, okay? You let a bone stay broken, it can get infected, or at least heal wrong, which is almost as bad."

Leonard returns the grin to Gabriel. "I'll be fine, and thanks." There's enough slack to it that he's probably feeling quite fine, but probably isn't overloaded. "Get yourself well," is offered to Monique as a courteous farewell, and then Leonard heads outside. At least the snow and wind won't feel quite as cold, for the moment.

"I not eat chocolate many times. Is good," Monique says quietly, then takes another little bite of the chocolate. She seems to be enjoying it, which is good. She doesn't eat it quickly, instead seeming to take a bit of time with it. "Bone set. Doctor can look. I not mind," she says softly, a hint of a smile touching her lips. She set the bone herself, no doubt with the bear's help. Odd though the pair might be, they have a way of working things, it would seem.

With an arched eyebrow, Gabriel suggests, "Well, that's impressive, but you should probably have a professional take a look at it anyway. Just to be sure. Maybe get something for the pain?" He stands and holds out staying hand. "I'll be right back, okay?" Then he's off... but not for long before he's back with a glass. A rather dirty glass that looks like it's been cleaned only with the barkeep's thumb and an old rag, at best. The older man shrugs as he sets it on the table. "Dirty glass, but you should drink some water anyway. You fall out of a tree or something?" Perhaps that's his way of asking how the tiny Eskimo broke her leg.

Monique gives a little nod, then takes another little bite of the chocolate bar. "I not mind doctor look," she says quietly, looking to him for a moment. She gives a little nod, that she'll stay, and while he's gone, she finishes the rest of the chocolate bar and licks the inside of the wrapper before sitting it on the table. She claims the glass, concentrating on it for a moment. Something seems to pass over the glass, cleansing it, and then she lifts it to take a drink of the water. "I not fall out of tree. I get leg caught, between roots. Fall through snow, leg stuck. Leg break. Bone stuck out, blood. Tornaq help, set bone. Heal so not bleed. Not able heal bone," she explains, then drinks more of the water. "Thought was bear trap, steel teeth," she says quietly, giving a little shiver at the notion.

The man from Kentucky nods, not in complete understanding, obviously, but at least the general gist of what's been said. "We can probably find a doc with some of those little machine things. Get inside, fix you up in an hour or two, and you'll never know that they'd been there." Sure, he hasn't needed to use such systems yet, but that's what he's heard. "You don't need to worry, I'll pay for it." He shrugs and blushes a little. "Just... kind of what I do. Helping people doesn't make your wallet thick, but it enriches the soul. After waiting for some of the water to be drunk - from an impressively and suddenly clean glass - he slowly stands, looks out the window the bear... and for whatever reason, nods to it. Gabriel then turns back to the small woman and extends a hopefully helping hand. "You can walk? I'm not the world's strongest man, but you look like someone I could carry, if you need it."

• Scene fades out as Monique is taken by Gabriel to be examined by a doctor, but left to heal on her own devices.