milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

In spite of his reassurance from Tim the previous day, Andrew did a quick dino-check at the bottom of the stairs anyway. Fortunately, the raptor was nowhere to be seen, and so our intrepid Woobie moved safely to the bar, where he ordered some turkey and dressing.

Mmmm, comfort food. Come say hello, make him smile. Or just try and increase his heart rate.

[Summary: 1. Andrew meets Guybrush, and is surprised to learn that he is an actual pirate and not just dressed for a party. They discuss the miracle of television, and Andrew breaks it to Guy that the world is round before directing him to have Ray explain it and then running away in dino-phobia. 2. Andrew meets Angelina (Who mistakes him for Raph- Yes, it's still happening), and is not the world's best conversationalist. Lithium can do that to a guy.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hmms. Nice food. It'd make a change to his usual sustenance. He scritches at his beard and asks the bar for turkey, and things that were plants, and orange juice. Gotta keep the scurvy at bay.

He picks up a turkey drumstick, because what else would a pirate want? He takes a chunk out of it and proceeds to talk with his mouth full.

"You can't get home? Why's that? Oop, sorry."

He picks a small bit of errant food from Andrew's arm.

Andrew eyed the stray bit of turkey with mild concern. "Uh, 's okay," he replied. Apparently, pirates were not so great with manners.

"I don't know why. When I open the door, it goes somewhere else. Not my world. It's just weird. Some people say the bar keeps you here when you have a lesson to learn." He shrugged noncommitally.

Guybrush snorts derisively. "What possible lesson could I have to learn? Everything I do feels like I'm being guided. Probably by that voodoo woman."

"Search me, man," Andrew sighed. "This place is weird." To put it mildly.

He paused, and then added, "You know the rules?"

He nods. "No violence, sex, etc. I've heard 'em a few times now. Still, at least you guys are thorough about it."

He chews a bit more turkey. He's had a bite or two of the green stuff and decided that pirates don't eat it for a reason.

"So I hear duels are allowed. Do they happen often, or what? Just seems interesting to mention it in the rules."

"It's kind of a tradition," Andrew replied placidly, spooning up some potatoes. "You'll probably get asked about it a lot until you've been here awhile.

I've never seen a duel, and I've been here two months. Security is pretty good, and most people are friendly."

He shrugs a bit. "I've been in a couple, back at home. Swordfighting. But we do it kind of differently to most." He nods, too. "And yeah, everyone's been pretty nice to me so far."

Had Andrew not been heavily medicated, he probably would have been more interested in the idea of sword-fighting.

"Oh yeah? You must be pretty good."

He grins. "Nobody with a tongue as sharp as mine. That's how we do it. We have swords, but the fight is governed by insults."

Now that made Andrew perk up. "For real? That's... great." A slow smile spread across his face. In his better, more lucid moments, Andrew had a fairly sharp wit.

He nods. "Yup. Every insult has a set response. If you come up with the wrong response, that's a point against you.You have to win three in a row to win the duel. You only get a turn at "serving" if you got the right answer to the last served at you. An example..."

He scratches at his beard, thinking for a second.

"Okay, if someone said to you, 'You fight like a dairy farmer', the correct response would be 'how appropriate, you fight like a cow!'"

Andrew nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. And there's a referee of someone who oversees all of that?"

Guybrush opens his mouth to speak, and then stops. A piece of turkey hovers halfway to his mouth. He slowly closes it again, and puts the food down.

"Uh... No. We just sort of... Went on... Being... Right."

He thinks.

"You know, I do not know why nobody faked questions."

"Huh."

Andrew shrugged. "I guess if it worked, it worked."

He tugs at his beard. "Yeah. I mean, nobody ever got hurt that way, so it was all good. And if you won you got all the booty in the hold. Sometimes there were weird rules. I went to this area once where every reply had to rhyme."

Andrew arched a brow. "That's weird. And there wasn't some, like, invisible magic or something governing it? I mean, what if you didn't rhyme, or tried to cheat?"

It's... Weird. It's... Kind of like speaking to someone in a language they're fluent in. They know if you do something wrong. Like, if I said "Hi, my name are Guybrush", you may think I was a bit slow but you would know I'd said the wrong word. Everyone knows how to speak. Everyone knows the insults and replies. They're as set in stone as any language."

Slight pause.

"Except Esperanto."

"Who's Esperanto?"

Guybrush chuckles.

"It's a language. A useless one."

"Ahhh, gotcha," Andrew nodded. "Like Latin?" He paused. "Wait, Latin is a dead language, not a useless one." He seemed to be working this out in his head.

He grins. "Okay, bad example. But basically, everyone knows the right and the wrong. You don't dare get into a fight if you don't. And if someone does throw one at you, I guess if yo're witty enough they let it slide."

"Like an understood code of honor?"

He nods vigourously.

"Exactly, that's the phrase. Admittedly, pirates aren't KNOWN for their honour, but in this case..."

"It's more like guidelines," Andrew finished for him, and thought himself very clever.

"Yeah, nicely put."

He sits back. He's never really thought about any of this before. It just... Worked.

"I'll teach you a few set ones sometime, if you like. Then you can be ready to invent them."