(no subject)

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber is well aware that griping about it being cold in California is a little bit petulant. Forty degrees Fahrenheit isn't that bad. Most of the rest of the world would laugh in his face for being annoyed by it. But hey, he was born and raised in the Bay Area, so he was used to the heat. He'd be able to counter anyone who started complaining about it being eighty degrees in August. And all that besides, it wasn't like he had a house to retreat from the weather to.

So he does what he figures is wisest and heads to the bar for a warm drink, a hot cider laced with whiskey. Even if he has to venture back out into the admittedly-mild winter later on, it's still good to warm up a bit before tackling it again.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Baze, armorless, is seated at a nearby table, methodically field stripping a blaster that Ibani gave him. He has half a dozen handgrips from other blasters on the table, which he plans to periodically test for a comfortable grip. A pitcher of ice water sweats in front of him, and he drinks from one of two glasses.

He raises a hand to Graverobber, grinning at him.

"Hoi, Graverobber! May the Force of others be with you. How are you?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"And also with you," he says with a grin, tipping his cider towards Baze when he speaks. "I'm doing all right, just hiding from the winter weather here in the bar. What's all the gear on your table?"

[iprotectyou]

"Good plan," Baze says cheerfully, unscrewing the sight from the blaster.

"Winter weather is nothing to sneeze at. These are handgrips from guns. I'm building a crossbow and I need a grip, so I'm cannibalizing thsse."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Nice. Where'd you get all the guns to cannibalize?" he asks, looking them over. He's not a firearms expert by any stretch of the imagination, but they definitely seem impressive to his untrained eyes.

[iprotectyou]

"A good friend of mine from my galaxy retrieved them for me," Baze says, unscrewing the handgrip from the current gun.

"They're called blasters, and they shoot bolts made of plasma."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Neat," Graverobber says, glancing them over curiously. "Does that work the same as shooting bullets? Or is it different somehow?"

[iprotectyou]

"I don't know much about shooting bullets, actually," Baze says, setting the blaster's handgrip down with its fellows.

"But these work through exciting Tibanna gas in a chamber using energy from a power-pack, and then condensing the produced plasma beam in an octagonal barrel. I don't think that's anything like bullet work, but I'm not sure."

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber's not entirely sure, either, but it sounds cool. "I don't think so either, but I'm no expert, so I have no idea. Bullets are just metal and gunpowder that put holes in people when you shoot 'em, but that's as far as my expertise goes. Still: neat!"

[iprotectyou]

"Oh, I know what gunpowder is," Baze says, nodding exactly once. He picks up one of the handgrips and flexes his fingers around the plastic piece.

"Yeah, I use gunpowder in my fireworks making. That's a volatile substance. Doesn't it leave a residue when you fire it in an actual gun?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"I think so," he says. "If my vague recollections of crime fiction back home are accurate, there's usually residue left on the gun and the person holding it after they fire a shot."

[iprotectyou]

"Right, and Barry Allen said something about the police being able to identify whether someone had killed someone else with the gunpowder residue left on their hands," Baze says, cocking his head to the side.

"Fascinating field, forensics. I'm not going to pretend I understand half of it. We didn't have much use for that sort of investigation on Jedha, but I'm sure they had some in the Core Worlds."

[quick_clean_pure]

"I don't know much about it either, but it does seem interesting as hell," he admits. "How do they look into crimes where you're from, then? Interrogations, magic, other tech?"

[iprotectyou]

"Interrogations, mostly," Baze says, grimacing. He selects one of the handgrips, squeezes it, and sets it aside.

"It wasn't like that two decades ago. People were kinder then. Though now I sound like an old man bemoaning how things used to be better!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric comes in from the cold, carrying a pair of ice skates. He's flushed and joyful, snow on the fur collar of his coat.

"Graverobber." He greets warmly, shaking snow from his hair. "Hello!"

[quick_clean_pure]

"Hey there, Sinric," he says with a nod towards him, tipping his whiskey and cider in his direction as he walks in. "Enjoying the winter?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Not winter in general. I prefer the warmer months. But I haven't been ice skating in some years. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy it."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Agreed with you about the warmer months. Admittedly, I'm in a warm part of the country, so I'm biased, but I'd much rather deal with heat," he says. "Ice skating sounds fun though. Did you skate here at the bar or back home?"

[thewidewideworld]

"One of the places I lived along the way. The Empire of the Tang, what you might call China? My dear friend Yan taught me how in a corner of the palace gardens."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Man, you get to see some cool shit," Graverobber says, letting out a low whistle noise to show he's impressed. "Sounds like a hell of a time."

[thewidewideworld]

"I have. And the gardens of the Imperial palace were some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. The water froze quite clear. As clear as glass. And the fish - bright and gold and orange, swum beneath us as we skated." He laughs self deprecatingly. "I was so afraid the first time. Yan had to hold my hands and ease me out onto the ice. He was taller than me, with the shoulders of a warrior. He kept assuring me that if it could take his weight, it would take mine."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Solid logic he's got there," he says. "Cool as hell that you did it, though. Can't say I entirely blame you for being anxious at the start."

[thewidewideworld]

"Would you like to try?" He gestures out towards the lake. "I would be happy to teach you."

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber thinks about that for a second (and you can practically see an "Error 404" sign flash across his face) because he's really, truly, never encountered real snow or winter before. He lives in a warm area and the environment's gone to shit, so he's never had the chance to even contemplate ice skating before.

Still, hey, fortune favors the bold and all that, plus he might as well actually try his hand at something he wouldn't be able to otherwise. "Sure," he says. "Can't say I'll have any talent at it, but I'll take a shot."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric beams and bounces over to the bar, requesting a set of skates in Graverobber's size, and a warm jacket for him. "No-one is graceful at it at first. I hope I can be as good a teacher as Yan was for me."

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber takes the skates and the coat, bundling the coat over the ones he's already wearing (which he is not going to take off, he keeps drugs and his tools in there). He's never been quite so bundled up before, so it's an interesting feeling, being covered in so much warm material.

"Out of the two of us, I have way more faith that you're gonna know what you're doing than I will," he says, taking the skates in hand. "Hell, I ain't ever even seen real snow before."