Trog's Tavern: Roman Numerals Are Dumb

[Gold]

[Roko's Basilisk]

The man in green looks up at the man of red. He can't help but wonder what kind of music someone who wears black leather armour must listen to.

"Alright, here's the facts. There's an abandoned firehouse on the edge of town, and some kind of basilisk is dragging people there and killing them. I need you to go destroy that thing. With me so far?"

[Purple Countess]

[Roko's Basilisk]

"¡A huevo! Carry on, homes." The hooded red man leans against the nearest table as he motions for the green man to carry on. "Though it sounds like my type of pet. I should tame it, wey."

Somehow the thought of a monster dragging people away to kill them doesn't seem to bother him. Heck, he's had his time dragging people away to their doom, so if anything the monster and him have common ground already. "I could kill it if you insist, for the right price." On the other hand, what would happen if he used a basilisk's eye as a component of his lightsaber?

[Thursday Violist]

A woman enters the tavern, smiles and gives a small wave to the first random person that makes eye contact, and then moves in to sit.
This woman goes by Talah Cathwulf.

Sure, she's pretty. Sure, she might be mistaken for a model. Sure, she's wearing a nice floral perfume. Sure, she's got a nice long skirt. But all those minor facts pale in comparison to the much-more important thing that her fiery red hair is in an updo, complete with flowers braided in that definitely are reminiscent of phoenixes.
If phoenixes were flowers instead of birds.
Yeah, going by the rules of Chekov's Gun, her hair is probably going to become relevant in the third act, or something.

Speaking of appearance, for those who can sniff out that sort of thing, she's maybe a fairy cursed by demon magic. Or maybe she's a demon enchanted by fairy magic. Or something else entirely! Like, judging by her name, she's secretly a werewolf who was cursed by some infernal fairy queen or something like that for failure to offer enough bread. Or maybe some kind of half-phoenix? Half-phoenix people could give off the magical scent of naturey brimstone, right? Or she was a princess cursed to...something? Or other? Until a Prince Charming rescues her from a dragon from a castle surrounded by....something?

Well,
regardless.
Not nearly as important as her Chekov's Gun of her hair.

She sits down on a stool
Crosses her legs.
Adjusts her sitting position because wow was her initial seating position a little uncomfortable.
Then, leans against the bar, putting an elbow on it and putting her head in her palm.

[Gold]

[Roko's Basilisk]

"I don't think trying to tame it would be a good idea. For one thing, the creature is killing people more out of sadism than hunger. Also, it already has an owner." Who is just as evil, no doubt. Though, their name isn't Roko.

"Yes, you'll want a reward after the job is done. In that case, you should meet me at my place of work. Limestone Radio Station, ever heard of it?"

[Murkus]

A lady stalks into the bar, bootsteps tramping out a slow and noisy cadence on the old sturdy boards. Boy, she loves that sound. The sound of worlds walking. Every delicious note in the creak of each board is like another ring on a tree, another drop in a pond. One more note in a long and melancholy song.

A hundred thousand steps and more have been recorded by these boards alone. No other has borne witness. No other thing remembers, in a real true physical way, save for the wood. The wood and the stone and the earth never forget.

Tsumi, for that's the lady's name, draws Trogs into her lungs. She breathes the place in like a whiff of good charcoal smoke. Ah, can you smell that? The whiskey and the beer and the subtler tangs of the wines soaked into every seam. The faithful wood, again, remembers. Each spilled flagon, each boot scuff, each scratch and knife mark and spill of hot blood. There are places you can feel, that you can sense through time, that have a personality more interesting than most people. Trogs is one such place. A good place, thinks the lady.

This lady is six and a half feet tall if she's a foot. Her eyes glint shades of amber and gold. Her skin is the deep blue of night above the ocean. Her smile is pointed, carnivorous. Two nubby horns protrude from her forehead, and her hair - darker even than her skin - is braided short.

With one more easygoing glance at the rumored Trogs Tavern, Tsumi will amble up and kick out a chair near the bar. Boy, could she use one. She's moving a little funny, and there's a bit of a bruise on the side of her neck, oozing down onto her shoulder like a black stain. Still, despite her pains, she seems in fine spirits.

[Arkhosia]

Behind the woman stepping into the bar comes the gentle swish of an enchanted broom sweeping down to stand, a black clad half-elf dismounting to enter beside Tsumi. Her petite frame is a stark contrast, a full foot and a half below her - and yet the pale maiden exudes energy. A brilliant pink shock of hair spills out from beneath a black witch's hat in untidy waves, framing a freckled face. Mischievous eyes peers around the tavern, an easy smirk upon pretty lips.

"Well, this place looks... lived-in," Ciara remarks, spinning the broom in her hand and hiking it over a shoulder. She slides into the chair beside Tsumi, waving the bartender down and ordering a soft drink. "Sure we'll find something to do around here?"

[Murkus]

Tsumi shoves her hands in the deep pockets on the wings of her leather jacket and kicks up her feet. She certainly seems to project a smoother, subtler energy than the exuberant witch. "Mmm, I know. Isn't it great?" She looks around at the old place.

Her smooth face dimples with a slim grin when she hears Ciara's order. "Ya know I think they have kids meals here, as funny as that sounds. Just in case you're hungry, too, doll."

"And sure, I'm sure," Tsumi rolls her neck and groans. She was always getting into fights on the job, tending bar or on a side gig. "There's always somebody interesting in places like this."

[bc56]

The door opens and heavy, deliberate movements, someone enters the tavern. Clad head to toe in armor of a strange metal alloy and although he carries no apparent weapons save for a pair of oddly shaped devices at his waist, he is a menacing figure all the same.
He stops in the doorway. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, his helmet is an inscrutable mask. If one has to guess, they'd probably think he was either confused about where he was (a common reaction of newcomers to Trog's) or sizing the place and its myriad patrons up.

[Spectre]

The armored man in the doorway may sense a presence behind him and a few feet off to the side. There stands another man of average build leaning back on a staff of polished rosewood set with silver studs. His skin is wrapped in thin, papery bandages and a blank white mask rests over his face. Its lips curve upwards only slightly.

Simple red robes fall from the man's shoulders down to his ankles. A rip up the front splits the fabric in two from the waist down, revealing baggy trousers held up with rope. He wears no shoes, but his feet are bandaged. "Your mask, it is not much like mine. It appears a great deal more expensive!" His voice is expressive but muffled.

After a pause, the heavily accented man continues. "Wherever did you find so much metal?"

"Armor like that is a rare sight, where I am from."

"Does it perhaps have a story?"

[bc56]

The knight turns slowly, examining the speaker. His white tabard bears a red symbol of an upraised hand extending from something. Smoke? Mud? Water? It's hard to tell.
"Well met, good sir. Mine armor was forged for me in the ancient furnaces of New Luna. It hath carried me through many a perilous battle on my quest."

[Spectre]

The speaker is a curious fellow. His limbs are short and spindly, but his digits are long and thin, like a spider's legs. He stands perfectly upright, his spine as straight as a metal rod. The red-robed stranger sets his quarterstaff up against Trog's and clasps his bandaged hands together. "Yes, yes. Hail there and well met!"

He bows slightly. Then he steps closer. That mask, that bright white mask, it seems almost translucent in the sunlight. "Perilous battles? A quest? Why this is very exciting!" The masked man squints beneath his mask. Whatever was on the armored traveler's tabard? "Perhaps we ought to step inside? It looks as though it might rain."

"And I must know of your stories, dear knight!"

[Purple Countess]

"Beacon won't help. I teleport stuff to me, or from me. And the stuff I teleport either comes from or goes somewhere I've prepped in advance or can see." If Karasu's ever looked into Natalie's drawers, they're pretty well organised and there's one with a lot of symbols drawn on the bottom, with jumpers placed carefully in the middle. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I'll have an ask around, see if anyone knows anywhere that might be suitable. Y'know, not now but when I'm at college and stuff."

"Beacon with camera, then. Or you could just think of me." Karasu winks as she says the last part. "Or I could be one of your prepared places. Maybe our funbox." Their (and originally Karasu's) box of... fun.

Karasu also is neat and organized, though that's more out of discipline than natural behaviour. Of course, she arranges her personal things in a way that usually only makes sense to her.

"'kay, I... college?" Karasu's happy for her girlfriend, grinning from ear to ear. It's not very often that she grins so wide. "Not too early for congrats, I hope? If not then let's buy some champagne to celebrate." Karasu isn't sure if she'll be continuing her own studies in such an institution, though.

"I don't think trying to tame it would be a good idea. For one thing, the creature is killing people more out of sadism than hunger. Also, it already has an owner." Who is just as evil, no doubt. Though, their name isn't Roko.

"Yes, you'll want a reward after the job is done. In that case, you should meet me at my place of work. Limestone Radio Station, ever heard of it?"

[Roko's Basilisk]

"An owner, eh? Time to meet them then." That's it, he's taking the job. A sadist creature as a pet would suit a sadist like himself... though it may be best not to tell this man that.

"I'll find it." He simply replies with a dark smile. He can't wait to begin! Perhaps this job would give KABAL even more reason to consider him when he goes to apply. If being tied to Skyside's Slaver's Guild wouldn't already give him an edge. "Alright, homes. Where do I start?"

[bc56]

"It began long before I was born," The knight begins, stepping fully into the tavern. He reaches up to his head and removes his helmet with the sharp hiss of an airtight seal releasing. The man beneath the mask has rough, battle-scarred skin and black hair matted by a long period under his helmet. His nose was broken at some point and not set quite correctly. "When our world, called Earth, was visited by a being called the Toxic God." He takes a seat at a table near the door and beckons to a barmaid. "Verima gulshht, my fair lady! And heavy on the spice!" He turns back to his strange conversation partner as the barmaid confusedly goes to check if what gulshht is and whether they have any. "The god doth smite our lands, our oceans, even our precious atmosphere, until half of the Earth was swallowed up in its poisons. Then, it departeth beyond our ken."

[Gold]

[Roko's Basilisk]

Okay, the quest-giver is sure that isn't a good idea, but if he thinks he can take it, doesn't seem like there's much point in trying to warn him off.

To be honest, it would probably be a worse idea to let slip he's friends with slavers than to admit he's a sadist. At least, to this guy.

"Once you leave here, move southwest. The building you're looking for is a big, red firehouse with fading paint, a few broken and boarded up windows, and the pavement outside will be full of bloodstains. I'll send along a ghostly friend of mine to guide you once you're getting close."

[Earl of Purple]

Earl was going by British definitions, in which case she's been in college for at least a year and possibly two, and will soon either be leaving or going to university. Earl forgot that some places include sixth form automatically as education and don't distinguish between further and higher education in the same way.

"Cameras might work, I'll have to practice with them." Since she's not sure how it'd work with the pushing and pulling of leylines Natalie's magic relies upon. "I thought I'd told you already?" Since if she's just starting college, by the UK timetable she should have started by now. "I'd prefer to celebrate with more of this fine cider. I don't like the bubbles in sparkling wine." Such as champagne, for example. "But, uh, I can't make you one of my designated spots to pull from. You'd have to be a container, and the stuff I teleport has to fit inside. So if I go for your mouth, as a large-ish space you can easily access, you'd have to keep your mouth incredibly still- not even breathing- for half an hour whilst I work, and it won't be the most hygienic place to teleport stuff that's supposed to be sterile." There might be other side-effects too, to having one's mouth stitched to a bunch of leylines so Natalie can always find them.

[Thursday Violist]

Behind the woman stepping into the bar comes the gentle swish of an enchanted broom sweeping down to stand, a black clad half-elf dismounting to enter beside Tsumi. Her petite frame is a stark contrast, a full foot and a half below her - and yet the pale maiden exudes energy. A brilliant pink shock of hair spills out from beneath a black witch's hat in untidy waves, framing a freckled face. Mischievous eyes peers around the tavern, an easy smirk upon pretty lips.

"Well, this place looks... lived-in," Ciara remarks, spinning the broom in her hand and hiking it over a shoulder. She slides into the chair beside Tsumi, waving the bartender down and ordering a soft drink. "Sure we'll find something to do around here?"

Tsumi shoves her hands in the deep pockets on the wings of her leather jacket and kicks up her feet. She certainly seems to project a smoother, subtler energy than the exuberant witch. "Mmm, I know. Isn't it great?" She looks around at the old place.

Her smooth face dimples with a slim grin when she hears Ciara's order. "Ya know I think they have kids meals here, as funny as that sounds. Just in case you're hungry, too, doll."

"And sure, I'm sure," Tsumi rolls her neck and groans. She was always getting into fights on the job, tending bar or on a side gig. "There's always somebody interesting in places like this."

Talah Cathwulf is a little bored.
...
What did she think, coming to a tavern alone? Ugh! Definitely not the best choice. All you can do is sit around and order stuff.

So she swivels around on her barstool, and notices some people who just sat nearby, at a table, Tsumi and Ciara. Wow, and she's tall! Or maybe it's just the contrast between the two of them that just makes her look so tall.

"Wow, you're tall," Talah says, before realizing she just said that aloud. Oops. Her cheeks turn a little pinker. "Sorry, you probably get that a lot."

If that gets those two's attention, though, Talah notices Tsumi's neck bruise, and she adds, "Um...are you okay? Does that hurt?" she asks, before realizing that just asking one of them a question would probably cause the other woman to worry that Talah's trying to take her girl, so she bites her lip and tries to think of something to ask her too. And hopefully not something dumb and self-evident like 'are you a witch' or something like that...finally deciding on, "So what are you two up to?" and hoping that's not a dumb question either.

[Spectre]

The robed stranger nods earnestly as the knight begins his tale. This was by far the most exciting thing he had heard in some time. "Oh dear. He does not sound pleasant, sir." This toxic god reminded him of a story he once heard about the end of the world. The tale claimed that a great beast would turn the air to poison with its breath.

"Your world, it must forge a hardened people, yes?" The stranger retrieves his quarterstaff and follows his new companion into the tavern. He takes a deep breath through his mask. "I can scarcely believe my own senses," he whispers excitedly, "this is perhaps the most exciting place I have ever been, sir!"

"Oh, wait." Suddenly the stranger becomes quiet. "My name. It is Adanu. And you, dear knight, what is yours?"

"I have been on my own for too long, I fear. Manners..."

"...fail at times."

[Earl of Purple]

Another group enters the tavern. The leader- or at least, first through the door- is a large white goat with curled horns and long fur masked by lamellar barding, and steel caps have been screwed to the horns, polished and sharp. Slung over the barding there's a pair of saddlebags. Behind the goat, there's a human male wearing long, flowing red robes, head shaved and marked with tattoos, leaning on a gnarled wooden staff. Following is a tall, lithe black woman wearing a blue jumpsuit with the yellow number 84 on the back and a computer on her wrist, with improvised metal armour over the top and an old army helmet on her head and a sword at her waist. Finally, there's a female dwarf with gold hair and a long beard hanging in a single braid, wearing a red ballgown and a starched ruff, a bandoleer across her chest bearing a great many pistols of many different designs.

The group will head towards a table and sit down.

[bc56]

"Sir Joseph Menard," The knight introduces himself. "The people of Earth have endured many a trial indeed, and it has made us strong. My Order was founded in the wake of the Toxic God's passing, and it hath developed much of the technology by which we now travel the stars. There are many now who were born on other worlds, and have no memory of the pain which our fair Earth hath suffered."

[Arkhosia]

Talah Cathwulf is a little bored.
...
What did she think, coming to a tavern alone? Ugh! Definitely not the best choice. All you can do is sit around and order stuff.

So she swivels around on her barstool, and notices some people who just sat nearby, at a table, Tsumi and Ciara. Wow, and she's tall! Or maybe it's just the contrast between the two of them that just makes her look so tall.

"Wow, you're tall," Talah says, before realizing she just said that aloud. Oops. Her cheeks turn a little pinker. "Sorry, you probably get that a lot."

If that gets those two's attention, though, Talah notices Tsumi's neck bruise, and she adds, "Um...are you okay? Does that hurt?" she asks, before realizing that just asking one of them a question would probably cause the other woman to worry that Talah's trying to take her girl, so she bites her lip and tries to think of something to ask her too. And hopefully not something dumb and self-evident like 'are you a witch' or something like that...finally deciding on, "So what are you two up to?" and hoping that's not a dumb question either.

[Pink Red and Blue]

The warlock looks back over at the oni and rolls her eyes, although the look in them is far more amused than truly annoyed. "Oh, charming offer love, you're really selling me on the romance and narrative of this place. Though it is wonderful to see they have the kind of cuisine you thrive on," she teases, jerking her thumb over to a menu plaque informatively labeled "Trog's Floor Chili."

The mention of interesting folks gets Ciara to look over her shoulder at the strange knight entering the building and the people that approach him - but before she can remark upon it, a voice to her left seizes her attention. She spins on her stool to face her, the wide and crooked steeple of her hat wobbling with the motion.

"Oh, don't worry about that, it's probably my doing," She flashes the woman a catlike little grin. The implication she's suggesting probably isn't true in this case, but never let it be said that Ciara lets go a missed opportunity to tease. As to the actually informative questions, she leaves those for Tsumi to answer.

[Spectre]

"Sir Joseph Menard," The knight introduces himself. "The people of Earth have endured many a trial indeed, and it has made us strong. My Order was founded in the wake of the Toxic God's passing, and it hath developed much of the technology by which we now travel the stars. There are many now who were born on other worlds, and have no memory of the pain which our fair Earth hath suffered."

Adanu nods. Now that he's sitting up close to Sir Menard, the knight will hear and feel his warm breath wafting through the open mouth-slit of his mask. It's curiously flowery, as is the perfume that rises from his bandages. "You are a proper title-bearing knight then, sir!" His voice cracks with enthusiasm.

He then coughs—a violent, wet cough. "You say that-" Another cough. "-some of your kind do not recall the End, but you do? You must bear terrible memories, sir." Adanu cocks his head to one side before hanging it low. "Would you change what you have done, to spare yourself what you have seen?" His voice lowers.

"I have often wondered what I would do, myself. If I had a chance to..."

Adanu's high, breathy voice trails off.

[bc56]

"Nay," Menard responds, "The coming of the Toxic God was centuries before my birth. I meant only that I hath lived in its leavings, whereas many now are born upon untainted worlds, where the air is yet sweet and the hardships of Earth are nothing but a memory." It's a bittersweet sentiment, clearly.

[Spectre]

"Hm. I see." Mumbles the masked man. This conversation had become rather dark. Adanu did not wish to leave his only friend in a worse mood than he was when he met him. "So!" Bellows the much smaller man. "Verima gulshht! I take it this is an Earthling drink?" He rubs his hands together, a substitute for a smile.

"I will have to try one with you. To Earth, yes?" Adanu was clearly excited.

His spidery, bandaged fingers tap rapidly at the bar.

[bc56]

"Nay, I'm afraid not," Menard gives a wry smile, "The Verima art a most barbaric form of xenos indeed, raiders and slavers of an abominable voracity, but one dost gain an appreciation for some of their arts when one gains enough spoils of war from them. I am given to understand that strong drink is a universal constant." Just in time, the barmaid returns with a steel mug filled to the brim with gurgling, steaming hot liquid which smells strongly of alcohol and nameless spices.

[Murkus]

[Pink Red and Blue]

Tsumi grins, showing a set of rather pronounced canines and sharp white incisors. She hisses out a laugh. "Oh yeah, just my thing," she agrees. When Talah speaks up, Tsumi perks, turning her head to appraise the new person.

"Wow, you're short," Tsumi responds with a mild snort, smiling broadly to let Talah know she isn't serious. "It's okay. Everybody looks big next to this one," she reaches over and pats Ciara right on the head, momentarily squishing her hat.

Then they move on to the mention of Tsumi's injuries. She leans forward in her chair with a creak, a hand on one knee. The movement shuffles her jacket a little lower, flashing a savage bruise at the base of Tsumi's neck. She gives Ci a dry glance, then nods solemnly to Talah. "It's the truth. Honestly, I'm barely surviving as it is. Just gotta try to keep her well fed and well behaved during the day. You know, like a gremlin." She smirks. "Rescue me, will you?"

At the question of what they're up to, Tsumi can only shrug the broad mantle of her shoulders. "Oh, just kickin' around. Looking for work. Or fun. Preferably both. Maybe a little squirt of trouble."

[Spectre]

"Nay, I'm afraid not," Menard gives a wry smile, "The Verima art a most barbaric form of xenos indeed, raiders and slavers of an abominable voracity, but one dost gain an appreciation for some of their arts when one gains enough spoils of war from them. I am given to understand that strong drink is a universal constant." Just in time, the barmaid returns with a steel mug filled to the brim with gurgling, steaming hot liquid which smells strongly of alcohol and nameless spices.

Adanu nods thoughtfully. "Xenos? You refer to extraterrestrials, then?" He places a hand atop the bar and sketches the shape of a creature into his bandaged palm. It is a strange, tentacled thing that floats. It bears a heavy shell upon its back. "The world I once called mine was conquered by some long ago." The masked man lowers his chin.

"They say a great storm swallowed it long before I was born; but this storm was not empty." Adanu glances at a barmaid and orders a steel mug of his own. "It brought life down upon us, refugees from the vast abyss of space: the Alkari." He sighs under his mask. "They are beautiful creatures, but frightening, too—when they speak, your spirit is touched."

The masked man continues to sketch little details into his bandaged palm. What appeared to be tentacles hanging below the creature he drew aren't tentacles at all, but are rather slender limbs, complete with hands and fingers. "No war can be won that is fought in the mind, not with the Alkari."

"I... think they took me once. Only, I cannot quite recall." Again, his voice trails off.

[bc56]

Adanu nods thoughtfully. "Xenos? You refer to extraterrestrials, then?" He places a hand atop the bar and sketches the shape of a creature into his bandaged palm. It is a strange, tentacled thing that floats. It bears a heavy shell upon its back. "The world I once called mine was conquered by some long ago." The masked man lowers his chin.

"They say a great storm swallowed it long before I was born; but this storm was not empty." Adanu glances at a barmaid and orders a steel mug of his own. "It brought life down upon us, refugees from the vast abyss of space: the Alkari." He sighs under his mask. "They are beautiful creatures, but frightening, too—when they speak, your spirit is touched."

The masked man continues to sketch little details into his bandaged palm. What appeared to be tentacles hanging below the creature he drew aren't tentacles at all, but are rather slender limbs, complete with hands and fingers. "No war can be won that is fought in the mind, not with the Alkari."

"I... think they took me once. Only, I cannot quite recall." Again, his voice trails off.

"Psychics, then. Their powers are indeed terrible to behold. There are some few among my people with such a gift, but I am not one." Menard takes a deep gulp of his beverage. "I am sorry for the loss of thine memories. There are many terrible things a psychic can do, but to strip at thine very self is among the worst." Adanu seems like a man with quite a history himself, too bad part of it seems to have been occluded. "I recognize not that shape, but there are a great multitude of xenos in the galaxy, and I have encountered only a small portion on my quest."

[Spectre]

Adanu nods solemnly. There's a pain in his voice. "I once saw a man carried up into the air as if by hands that were not there." He hangs his head low, peering right through the sockets of his mask. Colorful eyes twinkle sadly there, shrouded in the dark. "He screamed for some time. Then his skull burst like a fat, red berry pinched betwixt a giant's fingers."

He shudders. "I will remember it until I die." The masked man's gaze parts from the knight. "It was the work of the Alkari." Simply mentioning their name was enough to cause Adanu visible discomfort. There was fear in his voice, yet there was admiration, too. In truth, Adanu had found them as enthralling as he did terrifying.

"The man was a murderer. My people did not mourn his passing, but his ultimate fate... disturbed me." Adanu glances up at the roof now, peering at the burning candles overhead. "Yet I did nothing, said nothing." His gaze returns to the knight. "I regret it. Have you any of your own?" He shrugs and smiles awkwardly.

"If we are to drink as friends, I see no reason why we ought not share!"

[Thursday Violist]

[Pink and Red and Blue]

Admittedly, if Talah and Tsumi both stood, Talah's eye level would be probably at about Tsumi's chin, give or take a little....about the same difference from Talah to Ciara, actually. Huh. What a weird coincidence.
"Oh, thanks for noticing" she responds. "Y'know, I've always wanted to feel tall, I'm really jealous." But, alas, only one person is next to Ciara, and so only one person can feel tall.

Talah bites a lip to hide a laugh: It's really cute the way the two of them are teasing each other.

Anyway: what they're looking for. Talah sits more upright, and says, "Well, I definitely heard you can find that kind of stuff here." Sadly, though, Talah isn't really offering jobs or trouble. She looks over both of them, trying to guess their profession: "You gals some kind of bounty hunters, or something?"

[Arkhosia]

[Pink and Red and Blue]

Ciara just rolls her eyes and grins at the way Tsumi teases her, turning so that she leans back against the bar. Her drink arrives around now, and she snatches it up in a manicured hand and latches onto the straw dangling out of it. "Possibly! I mean really, who knows. I'm sure we could do bounty hunting just fine. Or adventuring, or beating people up. Any other kinda work and excitement, y'know?" The witch shrugs and takes a rapid sip of her drink, looking back to Tsumi. Sure, she'd been the one looking for something exciting to do, but it was the oni's idea to come visit here.