Kobold Plot

[quick_clean_pure]

Every now and again, Graverobber needs to take inventory of his coat. Specifically, all of the contents of his outer pockets, inner pockets, the lining, and literally any other possible way items can be stashed inside of a single garment.

In fairness, it isn't like Graverobber has a house or apartment to keep all of his valuables. He lives in a dumpster in a public alleyway. The only way to keep track of his important shit is to carry it at all times, and the easiest way to do that is to shove everything in a heavy trenchcoat.

Still, it's a system that means he occasionally has to clear out space, so that's led him to be sitting in a back booth in the bar and taking stock of everything he's carting around. Doing it at the bar seems to be a safer idea than almost anywhere back home, so he figures he can get it taken care of over a hot spiced rum drink.

There is an amazing array of stuff all over the small table; his zydrate and cash has already been safely tucked back into his inner coat, but there newspaper pages, empty vials, and all sorts of assorted junk that he's deciding to sort out.

Also on the table: his zydrate gun, empty and shining on one side of the table, metallic and sorted off by itself.

Comments

[childofrebellion]

(OOC: If you're up for another thread. I feel like Moist and Graverobber can probably happily fade soon.)

Cassian is searching for someplace to sit, he's been moving more than he probably should and his ribs are hurting.

When he sees Graverobber, he comes over then leans on the side of the booth to look at the array of things, "Good collection, building something?"

[quick_clean_pure]

(OOC: Either works for me, I'm okay with two threads!)

"Hey there," Graverobber says cheerfully when he sees Cassian stopping by. "Nah, not building anything. This is just all the stuff I've been carting around. I'm just organizing it and getting rid of any shit I don't need."

[childofrebellion]

"Kriff, you must have good pockets. Can I join you?" He doesn't want to disrupt any organizing.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Sure, I can use the company," he says. "And yeah, I got more pockets than sense, honestly. But I need lots of places to stash things, so it works out."

[childofrebellion]

Cassian sits down with only a small wince, "Pockets are useful though what's in them can get the wrong questions asked of you."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Yeah, but there's all sorts of reasons the wrong questions get asked of me," he says wryly. He notices Cassian's wince and asks, "You okay?"

[childofrebellion]

"True, and some things you have to have with you. A cracked a rib in a fight."

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber's eyebrows shoot up. "Jesus. You need to go to the infirmary?"

[childofrebellion]

"No, it's not that bad just aches."

[quick_clean_pure]

"All right, if you say so," Graverobber says, frowning slightly but not pushing it. "What happened?"

[childofrebellion]

"A cantina owner didn't like the work I was doing and kicked me out with a good punch. I've been resting and taking pain medicine, I"m much better."

[quick_clean_pure]

"All right, at least you're on the mend. Did you at least get to sock him good in revenge?" he asks.

[childofrebellion]

"No, that would have just made it worse," He needed to get out of there.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Ah, that's a pity," he says. "Still, at least you're feeling better."

[childofrebellion]

“I am, time stopping here can be useful.”

[quick_clean_pure]

"Yeah, that's a good point. I hadn't thought of it in terms of healing up before," he muses. "I've used this place to rest up or get some sleep before dealing with shit back home, but I'm sure it's a hell of a resource to have if you're on the mend."

[childofrebellion]

“It is as long as no one gets suspicious of you healing.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Yeah, that's a good point," he says. He's lucky that he doesn't have to worry too hard about people paying attention to stuff like that. "People ever get suspicious of it?"

[childofrebellion]

“They haven’t but they might,” Kay knows about Milliways and he’s tried to find ways to keep it from Draven without lying, because it’s Draven.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Eh, I guess it makes sense to be on the safe side to prevent it, then," he says. "Especially since your side of existence seems kind of treacherous."

[childofrebellion]

"It does. I don't tend to tell other people much of anything, but here what's expected to be shared is different,"

Or what he tells them are careful lies and truths to get the intel he needs.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Yeah, I mean, the bar's pretty...chill, I guess, so it's a whole other atmosphere," he says. "Can understand it being way different back home."

[childofrebellion]

"It is. I like it but there's a sense of safety here,"

He doesn't trust it completely but more than in other places.

[steals_yo_stuff]

There's so much ambient magic in Milliways, that an invisibility spell might go overlooked... Provided Graverobber could sense that sort of thing. Since he can't, he's out of luck.

The smell, though, that's impossible to mask. So a swell of odors--damp dog and stagnant water--approaches the table and disappears again.

Also gone is the zydrate gun.

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber's not someone to be too easily repulsed by smell, but good God, what the fuck was that? He wrinkles his nose at the sudden influx of scent, turning his head to see what it is, and sees nothing at all.

When he turns his head back, he does notice the change immediately -- there's a seize of panic, than anger, when he realizes what's missing.

For the next several minutes, Graverobber scours the bar area as closely as possible, desperation and fury on his face while he curses and searches.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck--!"