milliways_bar | (no subject)

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After his first time out of the bar in a long while, and a certain Puck's informing him of a greenhouse, Nicholas D. Wolfwood had a fantastic plan.

And a present for his pal.

He set a potted poppy flower of the red variety down on the table of the booth with him, smiling warmly as he looked at it. Sure, it wasn't a geranium, but it was a red flower. A living red flower.

And he was impatiently waiting for a man in a similarly-colored coat to come through the ~~door~~ wall.

He had a present. But presents given by Wolfwood usually ended up becoming bartering tools. And this was exactly what he was planning.

So, summed up: Priest with poppy, patiently pondering the planet which he posthumously could populate with plants.

(ooc: Not exactly plotlocked, but please ping priest-mun previous to popping in?)

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Drizzt hasn't been to Milliways in a while and as such is pleasantly surprised to find that the cold, windy, mountain side cave that he has chosen as his place of residence for the evening, is not only goblin free (as far as he knows) but, has been connected to that most famous (or infamous depending on who you talk to) of places.

Approaching Bar, Drizzt sees the man with the potted flower out of the corner of his eye.

Gently patting Bar a frosted flute of white wine appears.

Something about the man with the flower just reminds Drizzt of someone he knows.

Well what is the best way to find out then to approach, and approach he does, his hood back with his white draped across his shoulders Drizzt walks over to the mans table a smile reaching all the way to the corners of his bright purple eyes.

"Fair eve, good sir; I hope you don't think I'm rude for asking but what kind of plant do you have there?"

Nicholas was rather shocked to see a man of Drizzt's appearance, but he knew he shouldn't be. After all, this was Milliways. His eyes darted from the Drow to the Poppy, and smiled slightly, "I believe it's called a poppy. It is for a friend of mine who likes red flowers."

He wouldn't ever admit it, but he liked them as well. They were rare on Gunsmoke, and he could appreciate beauty.

He offered a hand for shaking, "Nicholas D. Wolfwood. How do you do?" he asked, trying to be as cordial as possible.

Drizzt extends his hand is what he has learned is the proper manner and shakes, his grip strong yet subtle. It is the grip of a warrior who has spent years developing his skill.

"Drizzt Do`Urden a pleasure to meet you Nicholas, I must say it is nice to see flora such as this. It has been a while since I ventured out of the mountains of my homeland."

"Likewise, and yes, I must agree. I'm rather impressed by it as well. After all, we don't get this sort of thing anywhere where I'm from. Please, have a seat." He said, nodding over to the other side of the booth. "So where's it you're from?" He asked, inquisitive in nature, since there was no such thing as dark elves on Gunsmoke.

"Well that depends on when you are asking? I come most recently from the dwarven citadel of Mithril Hall in the Spine of the World, before that the frozen tundra of Icewindale, and before that the lightless depths of the Underdark."

Drizzt slides into the indicated seat and leans back a bit taking a sip of his wine. Cause who would want to wast good wine.

He sipped his scotch, "Sounds like a fascinating world you come from. A lot better than mine. You guys have desert in your world?" He asked, brow raised. Tundras of sand, he could fathom. Frozen tundras? Well, he recently found out about snow, so he tried picturing a lot of it, as far as the eye could see.

He failed.

"Yes the desert land of Calimshan streches across the southern realms taking it's toll on those too ill prepared for it's harshness, I went there once to save a friend, and fight an enemy, It was quite an adventure."

Drizzt smiles as he recalls the chase south to reclaim his friend Regis from the hands of the human assassin Entreri.

"Well, that's kind of where I come from. Our world is a desert. Flowers like this are a rarity. I got this particular one because apparently, one of my friends happens to be particularly fond of flowers. It's some sort of fond memory for him. He won't tell me much more than that, though." He took a puff from his cigarette with a lopsided shrug.

"So, you're a fighter?" He asked. The Drow's build and hand gave it away, but the short anecdote confirmed it.

"I have some familiarity with weapons, my specialty being close quarters sword work."

*sip*

"My kin train from a young age in the art of murder, you live longer that way."

There may be venom in his tone...ok so there's tons.

"Hm. Well, I can possibly relate, though I'm more in the league of firearms. I was trained from an early age as well." He said, his mood seeming to darken when he spoke about that, "And I agree, in our world it's kill or die, in most cases. Well, not nearly as dire as that, but in certain lines of work, it comes in handy."

Another drag from his cigarette is taken, before he continues.

"That's why I'm a priest."

So to speak.

Drizzts eyebrow arches at the priest comment and the drow seems to scan the man up and down.

"In the land of my birth one is more likely to be killed by a family member looking to improve their base of power rather than an enemy."

"And forgive me for being blunt but you do not look like a priest."

"I get that a lot." He smirked, taking the last drag from his cigarette before grinding it out in the ashtray.

"Though you're right, not many priests dress like this. I'm, as they say, one of a kind. The effect is lost without my cross."

"Being unique isn't a bad thing, I happen to think it a rather splendid thing. I myself am unique amongst my kin becasue I fight with my heart, instead of just blindly killing who I am ordered to by the Matron mothers."

The look on Drizzt's face is one that Wolfwood might have seen in the past it's the look of someon trying to swallow something that just tastes vile.

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priestoftravel.livejournal.com - 2007-03-04 09:27 (UTC) - Expand

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underdarkangel.livejournal.com - 2007-03-12 00:05 (UTC) - Expand

The poppy is beautiful and Will's curiuos why a man would carry a plant with him and pockets the penny and picks up his drink, "Tis a beautiful poppy, is it a gift for a lady?"

Will asks as he comes over to the table with a small bow of greeting.

"Might as well be." He joked with a smirk. "Actually, it's for a good friend who's rather fond of them."

He scanned the bar before leaning foreward, speaking in a low, conspiring tone, "We don't get 'em where I'm from, so it's a very good gift, I think. And he never told me his birthday, so I'm planning a little hijack of the party Spider's thowing in my honor to put all the attention on Vash instead. I hate to tell Spider, but I hate parties, myself."

None of the names mean anything to Will, so he just smiles and nods, "How do ye live in a place without poppies, tis a field on them in Sherwood, lovely sight,"

Will grins at the forest in the Spring full of flowers and life, "Why would ye dislike a party, tis lovely to have something to celebrate,"

A wry smile there, a little complicated since few enough things to celebrate for Will.

"I lived in a desert." He stated. "Not many flowers. Not much of anything, frankly."
He sipped his scotch, the ice in the drink tinkling against the ceramic of the mug.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me." He said, catching himself before offering his hand, "The name's Wolfwood. Vash is the one who the poppy is for, and Spider is a rather peculiar god who befriended me." He explained.

"I'm Will Scarlett, ne'er seen a desert. I live in Nottingham and spend a lot of time in Sherwood forest so tis strange to think how anyplace could not be green,"

The god bit at the end does cause Will to turn slightly pale but not too badly since its a god he's never heard of and shakes Wolfwood's hand, firmly and is looking at him trying to figure him out.

He helped with a figuring out a bit, "I'm a priest, used to travel from town to town." He shook the Merry Man's hand. "Ended up at the wrong end of a bullet and now I'm here."

Another blink and pale again, Will has met dead people here, still weird, but dealable, though the man looks nothing like any priest Will has ever met, "Which house ordained you and then gave you no parish to serve? And what tis a bullet?...sir"

Something about Wolfwood does not make Will want to address him as Father, so figures sir should work.

"Actually, I'm New Protestant, and travel so I can collect money for the orphanage that my church runs."

He decided to show Will, taking the gun from his hip and slid the cartridge out, pulling out a bullet. "This. This is a bullet." He said, handing it to Will.

"And this is a gun." He said, holding up his firearm, a semiautomatic handgun, rather well designed. Not that Will would know.

At the New Protestant another blink, "Is that a church from the East, ne'er heard of it before?"

Then he examines the gun, finding the weight of it familiar but the size strange and curious pulls out his knife, a basic, lovely tool with a wooden inlaid handle that has a tree in it, comparing the two types of forged metal, "Tis a strange device and seems well made though too small to kill a man,"

Will puts the gun down again, confused but curious as he resheathes his knife at his belt.

Nicholas grinned slightly, slipping the firearm back into its holster, "It can kill, if handled by the right person. Would you like to see how it works?" He was feeling a bit trigger-happy, and what better way to get that out of his system than with a little target practice?

"Aye, twould be interesting to see how such a thing could be a weapon,"

And nods his curiousity overcoming the fact of an armed priest, at least with a weapon that can kill.

He wasn't the usual sort of priest.
"Come with me." He said, taking the potted plant with him as he went over to bar. "Bar, could you please take care of this for me and give me five empty bottles?" Bar disappeared the plant and appeared five bottles of various sizes and shapes in its place. He picked them up, carrying them in his arm. "We'll have to go outside for this, this is a very dangerous weapon."