[open] pre-gaming, the dignitary variety

[freeing]

Who: Anyone invested in the Dorchacht Dilemma or planning to visit Dorchacht through the event.
When: Septeril 1st, late evening
Where: The Sly Seadog
What: Planning
Warnings: Who the eff knows



[ It was getting late in the evening, but it was crucial to meet up. Daenerys – with the help of some more technologically savvy people – offered invitations to anyone who seemed interested in the affair with Dorchacht.

They meet at the Sly Seadog: a run-down little dive of a tavern, found along a narrow back-alley in the harbour, frequented by sailors, welcoming to Monsters and humans alike. The crowd is dense for this early in the "night", but still a few drunkards pawning off their last bit of money for a little bit more booze.

It was not up to a standard she would prefer, but it's something and it's relatively quiet. Three long tables can fit enough people for their meeting – and there's some standing room at the bar. Time to get down to business, right?

Feel free to top level, make points, argue, etc. ]

Comments

[tryhard]

Just water for me, please.

[ This cheap swill is too strong for a small waverdog. he'll die.

Waver rests one elbow on the bar, raising the other hand to gesture at Julian to catch his attention. He's been by before, a spare handful of times, always in the company of the large, red-headed man he's Bonded to. Said partner isn't too far away, as usual, preoccupied elsewhere with the talks. ]

And a strong ale. The largest you've got.

[rowdyraven]

[And the raise of a hand does catch at his attention, has his sharpened eyes fastening abruptly on the figure before him. Quickly his face arranges itself into an easy smile, one that somehow manages to maintain its affable quality despite the new, viciously-sharp teeth.]

The largest, eh? Well someone's going to have fun. Man after my own heart. Hah!

[He'll say nothing of the water, even if he does think it's a terrible order at a bar. Quickly he sets about making the drinks, wings tucked tight to his frame to keep from knocking things from the shelves. And whilst he works, his eyes move once again to the man before him, and there's a momentarily delay before he clears his throat. This time, when he speaks, there's a trace of something more reticent in his jovial tone. Self-consciousness, perhaps.]

Do ah, have we met before, perhaps?

[tryhard]

It's not for me, [ Waver clarifies with a faint laugh, as if that might really be in question, looking at him. Maybe some tiny people can put away a bunch of ale; he is not one of them. Waver nods over at the crowded table of people talking and planning, vaguely indicating the actual recipient of the ale.

The question, though, that note of almost-familiarity in the bartender's voice--

Waver turns back, looking up at him searchingly. It was bugging him, a sense of something like deja-vu, not exactly familiar but not entirely new either. His head cocks curiously, involuntarily, canine ears perking forward with interest. ]

Maybe...

[ Leaning one elbow on the bar, Waver offers his other hand. ]

Waver. Velvet. I've been here a couple times, but to be honest it's not really my first choice of hangout, so maybe I forgot...?

[rowdyraven]

[He makes no judgments based on the other Monster's size-- his own diminutive sister has always been able to drink him under the table, after all, a feat that takes some doing - and so when the clarification comes he only shrugs his broad, feathered shoulders. Smiles that bright, pointed smile.]

Oh, you're missing out then! But each to their own, I suppose. Heavy drinking isn't for everyone, though it ah, well it certainly helps with some things.

[Helps dull pain and feelings both, things he's required of late. Though all the myriad aches in him, the deep ugly feeling of bones shifting, feathers blooming, body changing-- they've settled and quieted down into something much softer, more muted, as he's made the full shift from human to Monster. Soon, no doubt, it'll be nothing more than a memory, this body his reality now.

Something he's still coming to terms with, albeit with tired resignation rather than the earlier abject horror.

Still, when the other Monster offers a hand there's a momentary delay, a small jolt, a kindling recognition of the name. There's a moment where he looks embarrassed, almost reticent--

--but then he rallies. They're in the same boat, it seems. How could Waver judge him for what he has become, when he's evidently been through some significant changes himself? He places both drinks down on the bar in front of his canine customer, before extending an ink-dark hand, black talons gleaming in the muted light. Wraps his fingers around Waver's extended hand with evident care.]

Julian Devorak. Ordinarily I might have been wounded to be so easily forgotten, but under the circumstances...

[And when he smiles this time, it's sheepish, a touch self-conscious.]

[tryhard]

Oh--

[ Waver's eyes widen a fraction in recognition. For a few moments, he stares, searching for familiarity in the other man's changed form. The flicker of fear doesn't have anything to do with judgement of Julian or what he's become, though; it's fear for himself, the striking reality of how much and how quickly someone can be transformed into a beast barely reminiscent of the human they'd been.

He's seen plenty of native Monsters, of course, but there's something so viscerally jarring seeing Julian right now: Waver only remembers him as he'd been months ago when they'd met briefly, and having not seen him since the transformation is all the more startling.

Waver's grip is a little weak when they shake hands, but he doesn't flinch away. Julian isn't frightening to him. This world is. ]

I-- ahah... [ his awkward laugh is more noise to fill the discomfort in the wake of Julian's own sheepish smile than anything else. Waver rests his elbows back on the countertop, looking suddenly out of his depth. ]

Right. No, I remember now. I just didn't expect--

[ Then again, who had? Waver's own canine features have been relatively subtle so far, in comparison, but he looks different too. His ears betray him as always, flicking anxiously. ]

Sorry. I'm being rude.

It's good to see you again.