[Rearing Stallion] The Artless Codger (Jokor)

[Dayn]

47th of Spring, 511 AV

Dayn stared at the guttering torches, his pale eyes bleary. He didn’t know what time it was, but judging by the throng of noisy customers, he didn’t think these were the early hours of the morning. This was not a very good night. He’d been drinking with some old friends, who’d inexplicably left for something called duty. Ha, they just couldn’t hold their liquor, he sneered into his half-empty mug. It wasn’t that much of a loss, seeing as there was only so many things you could do with a group of men. Where has she gone? Dayn craned his neck, trying to find the woman he’d been flirting with earlier. His stool teetered precariously, so he shifted his weight forward again.

“What, still hiding in there, are you?” He peered into his mug again, then brought it to his lip and took a gulp. Ah, the bliss of insobriety. He needed to find a woman, though. For some reason, none of them was trying to take advantage of him. It was very distressing. If he didn’t find one soon, he’d have to search for other amusements, such as spewing the contents of his stomach into his father’s best pair of boots. Would they even let me up there?” He frowned. The knights probably wouldn’t want him waking up their superiors with his singing.

“You know, you talk too much,” he slurred at a cask. That did it. The company here was dreadful. “Got to get me a piece of the action.”

Dayn slid unsteadily from his stool, almost slipping on a puddle of split beer, and staggered into a warm body. “Keep your hands off my sausage, you sneak.”

[Jokor]

Jokor was walking back towards his apartment after a hard day's work of running all over the castle to bring around packages and other things and today was one of those days that worked him twice as hard as normal and he was tired and wanted to crawl into his bed early. The only thing that was keeping him from that was his growling stomach and the hope that he could get a meal in the rearing stallion before going to bed. This simple plan was quickly proved wrong when a drunk staggered off his chair and crashed into him, almost knocking him on his but, still with a bit of luck he managed to keep him, and by extension the drunk using him as a crutch, up. Still he wasn't going to get that guy away with using him as a crutch without some kind of payment for it. His hand went towards the mans waist close to his money pouch, what he was doing looked as if he was just grabbing him by the waist for support. Before shifting himself to the mans side, hiding what exactly his hand was doing there and eh quickly began lifting coins from the mans purse into his pockets, stopping when he thought he had filched around 20 gm worth of coins. Not that he had to do all of that most people who where in the building at the moment where either drunk or just not interested at what the hell was happening either way. But even then he was feeling sorry already that he didn't just let the drunk drop to the floor because not even moments after he unwillingly kept him on his feet the moron accused him of touching his sausage and the foul smell hanging on the mans breath was enough to make him gag. “Oh shadap you blasted drunk and just lemme dump you outside! I don't want you to puke on the floor of the petching building I want to eat!” He roughly pushed the man towards the door, praying to yhsul and kelwyn that he didn't puke on him.

OOC whoever grades this. I got permission to filch those coins from dayn.

[Dayn]

The problem with shoving a much larger man, who was also desperately in need of a crutch, was that he tended to hold on very tightly. Dayn kept his arms draped over the other man’s shoulders as he staggered back to the door, striking the frame with an audible thump. He giggled. Poor bastard must be drunk, weaving all over the place. He regarded the fellow, uncertain what to make of him except, perhaps, for a small soufflé. Or was he a child trying to sneak his first taste of liquor? Faces were kind of swimming right now, making it nearly impossible for Dayn to determine that sort of thing. Gray hair meant old. Tits meant woman. Beard meant man. His system was simplistic, but effective. Why don’t they get some more torches in here? He peered around the crowded room, somewhat upset by this oversight on the barkeep’s part, only to get distracted by the sight of a woman.

Dayn, who suddenly felt less lecherous than usual, managed to give her a wink before the crutch began complaining again. “Food? What are you talking about? Do your parents know you’re here?” Now that he was leaning against the doorframe, he could afford to release his grip. But not by much. “Who are you? What’s this about dumping me outside? I don’t need dumping, you scoundrel. I’m not a chamber pot. Huh, what an absurd notion. What are you, an agent sent to disturb my evening? Well, I shyke on your duplicity, ser!” He broke into a sudden grin. “I like you already.”

While he stood there, a few more customers pushed past and headed to the bar, taking his vacant place. The nerve of some people. “Come on, let me buy you some drinks,” he offered.

[Jokor]

Jokor really didn't expect the man to have such a strong grip when he pushed him towards the door and was completely taken by surprise as the man just dragged him with him as he staggered through the pub before crashing against the door frame with an audible thump. Letting out an irritated groan as he futilely tried to escape from the mans grip. After a few moments the drunk began speaking again, the alcohol on his breath almost letting jokor gag. The man did however loosened his grip on his shoulders enough to let him slip out of his grasp. If the man fell on his drunken as because of that it wouldn't be on his head! "My parents don't mind and you bet your ass that you need dumping outside if you ask me! If your to drunk to know what food means then whatever you shoved in yourself is going...." Jokor let out an annoyed sigh when the man just continued to ramble on most likely ignoring whatever he was saying either way. "When the man ended his rant with grinning widely at him before saying he liked him already and offered him some free drinks. Jokor just gaped at him for a few seconds before shrugging. "Sure why not, I don't refuse free drinks."

[Dayn]

Dayn raised an eyebrow. “Yes, of course, young feller me lad. Nobody refuses free drinks. Refusing is a cardinal sin.” He didn’t understand what sort of parent let their child traipse around rough places like this. What if the pederasts try to get at him? He shuddered, not wanting to think about that sort of thing. It always brought up memories of that decrepit old knight that tried to fondle the pages when they helped him into his bath. “Don’t worry, Uncle Dayn will look after you. They don’t call me the festering ulcer of the Nigriso family for nothing, you know.” He tousled the boy’s hair. That was the sort of things you did with boys. No feeling, just annoying. Dayn wasn’t certain where this fellow had learned such vivid language, though. He was going to have to find some soap.

“Now then, where did the bar go?” He staggered back to its splintered solidity. What happened to all the room? He blinked once, then twice. This place was too crowded, but fortunately even in his inebriated state, he still recalled all the tricks of his calling. Shoving between a pair of men, he hunched over, clutching his stomach, and feigned a few, lingering groans. That was enough to scare them away. “Vomit is the best motivator,” he said happily, flashing three fingers at the barkeep. How many drinks did I just have? He frowned as he reached into his purse, surprised that it was nearly empty, and slapped a few coins on the bar, shrugging. “Two for you, one for me. Or is that two for me, one for you?” There was something wrong about buying drinks for boy that looked no more than twelve to his bleary eyes, but this sort of misbehavior was what made life interesting. He regarded his diminutive comrade, taking hold of one of the foaming tankards. “Remember, this is our little secret, he winked. “Bottoms up.”

[Jokor]

Jokor rolled his eyes as the drunk began babbling about how refusing free drink was a cardinal sin, whatever cardinal meant and just kept close to him, he didn't want his source of free alcohol fall and pass out while vomiting all over the floor, and knowing his luck his boots would also be in the line of his vomit and be coated with it for the rest of their use. When the drunk tousled his hair before continuing his ramblings about how uncle dayn would take care of him. Jokor quickly pushed the mans hand away from his head an annoyed expression on his face. “Well I wouldn't know why they call you the festering ulcer of the family,” jokor said with sarcasm easily audible in his voice, though he wasn't so sure dayn would notice it in his state; “And I can take good care of myself.” Following the staggering man to the bar, when the man got to the bar heshoved himself between two men before suddenly doubled over and hold his stomach, a few nauseated groans coming from him, the two men quickly bolted away from him just as jokor quickly stepped back to avoid being puked all over him. When the man just chuckled and climbed into the seat, holding up three fingers and slapping down some coin on the bar as he sat down next to him. “I'll take the two, It seems as if I got a lot of catching up to do.” Grabbing one of the tankards as it was put down before him. Giving the man a nod at his urge of keeping it a secret and downed the tankard, the bitter taste not really bothering him, it wasn't as if he hadn't ate worse things before. Setting the now empty mug on the bar and belching loudly before grabbingthe third mug that was still standing on the bar. “Better not let that one get warm.” He muttered under his breath as he now just took a sip from the mug.

[Dayn]

“Warm?” Dayn leaned back precariously. “Do you want a jacket or something? Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Not how you’re considering it, though. Jackets make perfect sense when its cold. You’re going to need to work on your reasoning.” He peered around the room again, not seeing any familiar faces. “We could use quality control in this place,” he stated, giving the boy a none-too-gendle nudge in the ribs.

“See that pair of wenches over there? You can bet your fruits that one of them has the clap, me lad – but don’t go around repeating that sort of language. I mean, you didn’t listen to me before, and you do strike me as a bit older than most boys that sneak into these sort of places.” He finished off the rest of his tankard with a giggle. “What are you doing in here, anyway? I mean, apart from complaining.” He cocked his head to one side, mostly because he enjoyed the distorted sense of equilibrium. “Go on, tell me what makes you better than that tub of lard over there,” he said loudly.

[Jokor]

Jokor rolled his eyes at the man's drunken question. “No I don't need a jacket ya drunk vagik, I was just saying that drinking warm beer is just as tasty as drinking that shyke the zeltivians call beer.” He took another sip shaking his head. "How much did ya already have? I wanna know if I need to be ready to dodge yer puke.” after a few moments dayn gave him a rather strong poke in the ribs grabbing his attention again. Getting a look of confusion on his face as he mentioned quality control. But just shrugged it off as something that he just began saying when the guy was drunk. At least until he pointed out a pair of women and said that he would bet his fruit that one of them had the clap, saying that loud enough that at least half the taver could have heard it, htough only the two women really cared, Jokor just ignored the angry stares from the woman as dayn continued to talk. “Like I told you, I wanted to come here to get something to eat before going to bed, at least that was the plan before you offered me a few free drinks." He looked over his shoulder towards the target of the drunk's insult. “Well first of, I don't look like a big pile of zithshyke.” He said just as loud as Dayne, the alcohol in his blood convincing that that tub o lard couldn't hurt him if he tried, except if he sat on him.

[Dayn]

“Zith? Where?” Dayn almost reached for his knife, but then he remembered he was sitting in a tavern, where such scenes were not tolerated. Also, that he’d never seen a Zith in here before. “Trying to confuse me, eh?” He chortled, then gave the boy a thundering clap on the back as he bought them another round. Lifting his tankard, he drained it of the amber liquid and sat back, smacking his lips. However, this time he pitched off the stool. What the petch? His head smacked against the floor, and for a moment the eyes rolled back in his head. Then he was staring up at the underside of the bar, wondering if he was lying on the deck of a ship. What happened? He shook his head, reasoning that he needed a stiff drink to steady his nerves.

“You, cabin boy, give us a hand.” Dayn had established by now that he wasn’t on a boat, but he liked envisioning himself as a dashing captain with a feather in his cap and a randy wench on his lap. “There are bugs down here.” Somehow, he managed to fling a hand over the bar and get up again, although it was quite apparent that he wouldn’t be served any more drinks that night. “Can you imagine that? No sooner does some rascal yank the stool out from under me and already they’re giving me the evil eye.” He snorted, then shot a glance at the boy. “When was the last time you took a bath?”

[Jokor]

Jokor couldn't repress a chuckle when the drunk fell of his chair as he was drinking, taking another sip of his own tankard. Looking at the dumbstruck man as he lay silent on the ground for a short while. “Your drunk of your arse ain't ya?” Jokor mocked the man laying on the ground. “And don't worry about the bug's capt'n They wuldn't dare to touch yer arse, not even a cockroach would survive to tell tha tale.” Jokor decided not to go against the drunks disillusions of him being a captain, he probably was to drunk to notice or care anyway if he did do something against it and just watched with an amused smirk on his face as the man climbed back onto his seat. “I think its just that you can't hold your alcohol that caused you to drop to the ground like a sack of bricks ya drunk.” Jokor drained the rest of his tankard. “And my last bath?" Jokor thought back to the time jaelyn dragged him to the bath's some 2 week's ago. “Dun really know, a week or two at least.”