(no subject)

[quick_clean_pure]

At some point after the wasp's effects wear off, expect to see a piece of sunbleached newspaper stapled to the wall, right next to Graverobber's similar previous flyer.

FOR THE RECORD, I AM STILL SELLING DRUGS.

I HAVE DRUGS THAT I AM WILLING TO TRADE FOR MONEY, GOODS, AND BAR TABS.

WHATEVER THE HELL HAPPENED LAST WEEK WAS TEMPORARY AND THE OPPOSITE OF MY ACTUAL FEELINGS ON THE SUBJECT OF SELLING DRUGS.

YOU CAN FIND ME HANGING AROUND THE BAR DRINKING BEER IF YOU ARE INTERESTED. ALTERNATELY, LEAVE ME A NOTE.

Also, for clarity for anyone looking to purchase, I am the tall goth-looking guy with multicolored hair and a coat that looks like I pulled it out of a pile of garbage.

Graverobber can, indeed, be found sitting at the bar drinking beer and looking very annoyed.

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine looks about an un-goth as one can, with her red hair and brightly-colored clothes (yellow tee and orange jean shorts with a lime green belt and red sneakers, today), but her look upon glancing at the new flyer is mildly sympathetic, if rather dry.

"Was last week just weird for everyone's personality, then?" she remarks, curious.

[quick_clean_pure]

He glances up with a wry smile and a weary look. "I'm guessin' so," he says, tipping his beer towards her in greeting. "You get smacked with it, too?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Yeah," she replies, dry. She rubs at a healing red welt on her upper arm, among the various faded scars. "I spent the week always hungry, and... selfish, rather short and snappish with everyone. Which isn't me, generally."

[quick_clean_pure]

"That sucks," he says sympathetically. Glancing at the welt, he says, "You okay? Hope nobody was using that as an excuse to whale on ya."

[sunbaked_baker]

"What, this?" She remarks, geaturing to the welt among the scars. "Nah, no one tried anything. This is just from some horsefly or something that got me while I was running around the lake. Stung like any number of hells for a few days, but it's healing now."

"What did last week sic on you?" She gestures to the flyer. "A crisis of morality?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"Basically, yeah," he said. "I was saying stupid shit about hating my work, not wanting to sell stuff, encouraging people to quit. And I was getting into all sorts of fucking arguments about it."

Though, her mentioning being stung by a horsefly makes him remember the wasp or bee that had gotten him on the neck, and he frowns thoughtfully for a second.

[sunbaked_baker]

"If you weren't a drugdealer, what would you do? I mean, if you had your pick of careers," she replies, curious.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Starve, probably," he says with a small smile and a shrug. "I ain't got a lot of options back home. It's not a great place. And I'm already living off of the streets as is."

[iprotectyou]

Baze sidles up to the bar stool next to Graverobber and settles in.

"You got hit with the Milliways weirdness, too? Good thing it only seems to have lasted a week."

[quick_clean_pure]

"Hey there," he says to Baze, tipping his beer towards him in greeting. "Yup, I got to deal with a whole pile of weirdness. I'm assuming you got stuck, too?"

[iprotectyou]

"Yeah, I ended up feeling down in the dumps for a week. But it was more than that: I looked at my lightbow and robes and wondered why I bothered," Baze says, sighing and glancing at his hands. He's currently wearing Guardian's robes, red and black and fitted to him.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Jesus, that sounds fucking depressing," he says, frowning. Though, huh, interesting that it also made him feel weird about his choice of profession. "You feeling better now, at least?"

[iprotectyou]

"Yeah, thanks," Baze says, managing a watery smile.

"What about you? You stopped wanting to sell drugs?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"Yup, basically," he said. "And I was stubborn about it, getting into arguments and refusing to sell and all sorts of dumb shit. The flyer's my attempt at damage control, but I was messed up."

[iprotectyou]

"Well, I hope it works for you," Baze says, entirely sympathetic.

"I wonder what caused this. Did anything change for you?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"Thanks," he says. "Nothing really changed other than me. There were some bugs flying around the bar, but nothing too unusual."

[the_cupbearer]

Oh, this is an explanation Ganymede has to hear.

"What kind of drugs?"

Because that's the important question.

[quick_clean_pure]

Ooh, potential new customer. The day is already starting off well.

He grins in recognition when Ganymede walks up, but he answers easily enough. "Zydrate. Grade-A painkiller from back home. Makes it so you feel nothing but good feelings even if you're being sliced apart for kicks."

[the_cupbearer]

"Is it addictive, or just habituating?" he asks: Ganymede, while he looks for all the world like a club-hopping prettyboy, is smart about his drugs of choice. He rarely uses anything that will be terribly addictive the first time out, preferring to enjoy his descent into oblivion.

"Sounds interesting. How much?" And is Graverobber willing to take the price in trade, his look says, but his words do not. He knows he's objectively beautiful. He's known it for a long time, and it's useful sometimes.

[quick_clean_pure]

"It's addictive. I won't beat around the bush on that one. It can get you real goddamned hook. But oh man does it work," he says with a small grin.

At that second part, he raises an eyebrow, giving Ganymede a once-over while still grinning. "Standard price is one week's worth of my bar tab getting covered. But I'm open to hear about alternate payments."

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede considers this--it's difficult for him to get truly addicted to anything, though he's not sure Graverobber needs to know that--and settled leaning over the man's chair on his elbows.

"Sounds like a widely variable price, that. Depending on how much you drink in a week." He says nothing about sex, but there's very little to mistake about the way Ganymede returns that slow once-over, lips parting to let the tip of his tongue peek through to swipe over them. "How...alternative are you willing to get?"

[quick_clean_pure]

His grin spreads wider across his face, and he leans back a little in his chair. "I can be pretty flexible," he answers. "Tell me what you're thinking and I'll tell you if it's enough."

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede lifts an eyebrow and leans in murmuring all kinds of suggestions that, if Graverobber is at all like the men in Ganymede's world, should get a kick of lust and interest going. He can be quite creative that way.

"...Or, if you still prefer money, that can be arranged too."

[irish_vagabond]

Graverobber will find a note left for him at the Bar:

Hey

No hard feelings about what transpired. We'll chalk it up to Milliways shenanigans and let it go. I'm away, don't know when I'll be poppin round again, but next time I expect to do some business with ya!

Cheers
Cassidy

[quick_clean_pure]

Whenever Cassidy returns, there'll be a note waiting for him in Graverobber's scrawling handwriting, written in Sharpie on one of the bar napkins.

Hey there,

Thanks for being cool about it. Bar shenanigans is definitely one way of putting it. Whenever you get back, hit me up and zydrate'll be on hand for ya. Hope you're off doing some fun shit while you're away and will be in the mood for a hit once you get back.

-Graverobber