(no subject)

[hecu_marine]

Well, his legs should be more or less okay, what with it being a good day and change since Brazil. Shephard's grateful for that. Still not quite up for running full speed but shit, he's capable of doing a decent jog, long as he does it cussing pretty much the whole way.

People who have handled his medical treatment will tell you that he grossly overestimates how soon he can get back in the field after an injury. Today is no exception. When he comes back into the Bar he's all too grateful for the napkin that pops up; he grabs a stool, pulls it behind the bar, and plunks himself down on it.

SPECIALS:

Anything I don't have to get up to reach is half off
Anything I have to get up to reach is normal price
Anything I have to walk to find, I'm charging you extra

Teach me a way of cussing people out that I don't already know, and your order's half off

After some thought he adds:

Walking discount/markup applied before educational discount

Comments

[redintheledger]

If the young woman who stands there, glancing from the sign to Shephard, looks like she's from the early 50s, this is because she is. Neat red hair, yellow cardigan with a print dress, gold watch bracelet plus plain wedding ring.

"...what's in reach, and do you know Russian?" Nataliya asks at last, the Bar's translation field keeping her accent.

[hecu_marine]

"Couple of each of the major alcoholic staples of Earth," Shephard says. "Far as my Russian goes, I got a li'l bit, nothin' too spectacular- poshel v pizdu, yob tvoyu mat’, that kinda thing. Fella I met in Poland a while back taught me the basics but I am open to suggestions."

[redintheledger]

"Not bad," she says, and means it - he's got the beat of it, not a trace of awkwardness.

"I spent three years in the Red Army, so alongside Russian, I also have German, Hungarian, and Romanian. Around the time of the..." here she pauses. "The big war that ended in 1945, I forget what Americans call it."

Beat.

"What do you recommend that tastes decent?"

(It's not like it's easy to even get buzzed, so she might as well enjoy it.)

[hecu_marine]

"'Second World War' generally does the trick," says Shephard. "I got a fair bit of German vocab these days too, but Hungarian'n Romanian're new far as I'm concerned, so what you got there, I'll take. Far as tasting decent- that depends. You want somethin' in the hard liquor line, or you lookin' for somethin' more on the beer side of things? I got a couple 'Merican beers here I'd recommend but there's some damn fine Austrian shit within reaching distance, I c'n tell you that."

[redintheledger]

"More the beer - let's have one of the American ones?"

(Could be useful, should she ever get out of Siberia.)

"Both Romanian and Hungarian are patchy, but-" she launches into an explanation of the Romanian swearing she picked up, sounding more like a student of linguistics than a solider.

The words themselves are anything but scholarly, though.

[morethanprops]

Today has been hot and Moist has spent most of it listening to what feel like the same four stories over and over again. His seersucker suit is far from crisp as he leans against the counter and eyes the specials trying to see how to have the pay the least,

"I know Uberwaldian which has some wonderful curses. A few dwarf curses and some Genuan. And I'd like a beer please, a wheat one."

[hecu_marine]

Shephard nods, glancing up along the bar's selection and then down- ah, there. "Hefeweizen okay?" he asks. "Let's start with what you got from Uberwaldian'n see how well I handle that before we start talkin' dwarf."

[morethanprops]

"Yes, thank you,"

Then Moist loosens his tie some more before rattling off some of his favorite curses in Uberwaldian as its such a good language for being angry in.

[hecu_marine]

Shephard cocks his head, listening. After a bit he takes a stab at what sounds like the first two or three words- it's an unfamiliar language and he wants to make sure he's hearing the spaces between the words correctly.

[morethanprops]

"Almost those first three are calling someone a maker of unnamed meats," Then he says them again a little slower.

[basic_powers]

Beauford was just going to go down to the garage and exercise. Really, even if he was doing so at a pace that some might call 'dog on a strained leash'. However, he doesn't glance at the specials board on his way there.

He's paying rent with his tending and cooking skills, it pays to know what your possible competition might be bringing. Or who you might be working before or after.


"Shephard!" He's calling out to the bar and giving a wave, because damn he hasn't seen that Marine who ate his death chili in a while.

[hecu_marine]

Shephard looks up and waves. "Hey there," he calls out. "Long time no see, Beauford. How's it hangin'?"

[basic_powers]

"Still bound, still stir-crazy enough to actually debate making atl-atls from dawn til dusk. With sticks and rocks and nothing else." Beauford snorts, jogging over to sit down at the bar. Because what the hell did you fall into this time Shephard. He's seen burn victims with less trouble going on than you. "Do fantasy or languages of non-terran origin count? Otherwise I got a wonderful rude gesture to share."

[hecu_marine]

"Non-Terran's fine," says Shephard. "I only got one bad word in Omaticaya so far. It's gettin' mighty lonely in the ain't-from-Earth stables. Gestures work, too. I ain't fussy."

[basic_powers]

"Yoh puermah disseh, I only have a rough translation of, but I believe it amounts to 'go back to suckle at your inbred mother'." Hey, sometimes the nights working Happy Hour get interesting. "And there oughta be some Ray's Green Stuff on tap."

[katyafeline]

"Oooh, challenges. I like challenges. Got any budweisers on tap that aren't horrible?" Katya asks, just barely refraining from taking her usual perch on top of the bar.

[hecu_marine]

"Ma'am," says Shephard with as much dignity as he can muster, which isn't much, "I dunno who told you what about American beer, but 'round where I come from we say you got to serve Budweiser cold on account of that bein' the only way you c'n tell it from the horse piss. I c'n git you somethin' else made in the States no problem, but Bud'n horrible go together 'bout as naturally as Cleveland and the river catchin' on fire."

[katyafeline]

"Bah, who said anything about American? I said not horrible. Something from Eastern Europe." She grumbles back at him, because a budweiser from Cleveland? Ew.

[hecu_marine]

"Fair 'nough," says Shephard, realizing that just possibly this might be like going to a store and asking for aspirin; he's heard in Canada, that was a brand name, not just a class of drug overall. "Austria far enough east for you? I got some- naw, wait, there we go, this one's Budvar, that should do you properly. Look all right to you?"

[katyafeline]

"Now you're talking." She grins crookedly, "So how is it a military man needs help cursing?"

[damncompass]

"I know some French curses from Switzerland, and some rather rude things about peoples, uhm, private parts in Latin." Joshua shrugs.

[hecu_marine]

"Ain't had much Latin," says Shephard. "Let's go with that to start with. I"m flexible."

[damncompass]

Joshua rattles off a few things. They sound elegant and formal. "The first is basically, your man-bits are so small, you couldn't please a virgin, the second implies that the other person has no balls at all, and the third is basically fire-fucker." Joshua looks a bit sheepish. "I read a lot about Pompeii."

[hecu_marine]

"No, no, it's good, it's good," says Shephard. "The fire-fucker one's got a nice ring to it. What can I git you, anyways?"

[damncompass]

"Whatever beer's close. Nothing too dark." Joshua grins. "I've done a lot of reading in Latin, and, well, the Ancient Romans were kinda dirty fuckers when it comes down to it."