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Gegenji · **02-12-2015, 03:02 PM**

The Judge clasped his hands on the bartop as he awaited his drink, letting his gauntleted fingers intertwine neatly and evenly mere ilms from the wooden surface. Given his rigid and proper manner of sitting,Â one would have hard pressed to consider it a relaxing pose even if he wasn't balking the standards of comfort by coming dressed to the nines in plate. Not that he himself minded, considering how much of his life he had spent within the armor. To him, it was more of a second skin than anything else.

Motion at his side caught his attention, sending his eyes flitting that way even as the rest of his body remained motionless. A masked figure reading a newspaper, female, Miqo'te. The paper in question was the Tonberry's Lantern, a disreputable piece of literature with its more ostentatious articles penned by one Spahro Llorne. Disreputable articles written by a disreputable person for a disreputable tabloid. Jredthys' eyes turned forward again even as they narrowed in understanding. Yes, that was the way it should be.

Inessa's mutterings reached his ears even as his drink arrived, condensation already finding purchase along the surface of the glass. The Judge unfurled one hand from its clasped resting place and gingerly wrapped his gauntleted fingers around the drink. The other lifted the visor of his helm just enough to allow a sip of the drink to drain into the darkness within, done with the practiced ease of someone who had done such things many, many times before. He paused briefly before setting the glass down again.

Yes, two parts dry gin and one part dry vermouth, shaken rather than stirred as per his request. Of course, he would have also begrudgingly accepted ratios of 3:1 or 4:1, since they were also technically still valid martinis. He preferred his at the proper 2:1, however. The proper ratio for a proper martini, made in the proper manner to be imbided at the proper location.

Perhaps light conversation would be next? The mutterings of the Miqo'te had not been directed at him, but they had been said loudly enough for him to overhear. Perhaps it was meant to be something for him to respond to. Speaking about the news was an acceptable topic for the aformentioned light conversation, after all, along with the weather and showing alarm at the drastic increase of prices on a particular sundry. He would engage.

"NO."

Great addition to the conversation, Jredthys.

Aya · **02-12-2015, 03:04 PM**

With a quick smile and nod, Aya was off again.Â She cast no more than a suspicious glance at the tin-can as she passed behind Momodi on her way to one of the liquor cabinets.Â Opening the door she withdrew a bottle of expensive whiskey, setting it on a tray along with several tumblers, and soon a bowl of peanuts.Â

For Warren only a few moments passed before she reappeared, tray resting upon her hand, and drinks soon served, including the empty, hopeful glasses, for his friends should they show.

"Just the best, as always, Warren, hmmm?Â Anything you'd like to get to eat?"

Aya · **02-12-2015, 03:05 PM**

(02-12-2015, 03:02 PM)Gegenji Wrote: Yes, two parts dry gin and one part dry vermouth, shaken rather than stirred as per his request. Of course, he would have also would have begrudgingly accepted ratios of 3:1 or 4:1, since they were also technically still valid martinis. He preferred his at the proper 2:1, however. The proper ratio for a proper martini, made in the proper manner to be imbided at the proper location.

OOC:

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Inessa Hara · **02-12-2015, 03:12 PM**

"No?" Inessa said turning to the tin man who distracted her from reading boring things.

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Warren Castille · **02-12-2015, 03:14 PM**

The highlander smiled as the hostess returned with his request, and empties to boot.

"This will do nicely, Miss Aya. Thank you. No food for now, perhaps in a bit." He accepted the small glass she graciously filled for him and turned the bottom upwards, drinking the whiskey with some relish. With a sated sigh he returned the empty to the table top and smiled lazily.

"Worth every gil."

Gegenji · **02-12-2015, 03:25 PM**

"YES," came the equally terse response to the terse question. He had indeed been in agreement with her statement regarding the lack of workload shortage. If there was no work, there could be no workers and everyone would be unemployed and thus no longer workers. It was a worker's role to work, so there had to be work to be performed to maintain that position. If there was no work, it was their job as workers to find work or else no longer be workers.

It all made perfect sense to the Judge. Though, if someone else could read his thoughts, they might start questioning whether or not the word "work" was even a word anymore. Since there were no telepaths present, however, Jredthys treated himself to another sip of his properly made martini. Perhaps in silent celebration of a successfully navigated conversation with the Miqo'te. Since, after all, the two had exchanged words and thus fulfilled the basic requirements for a dialogue.

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Inessa Hara · **02-12-2015, 03:29 PM**

"Well then I disagree with your statement." She says to the Tin Man.

"Are there still people unemployed? Yes, but most of them do not have an applicable skill that is needed. There are no easy or generic jobs in the time we live in. The only way you get work is if you can swing a weapon or swing a tool and know what you are doing."

She reaches for her cup of coffee and take a sip from it.

Gegenji · **02-12-2015, 03:43 PM**

"YOU DISAGREE WITH YOUR OWN STATEMENT."

There was a slight grinding of metal on metal as Jredthys turned his full attentions onto Inessa. His clarification on her words was legitimate, in his mind, since the statement had certainly not been his. He had merely agreed with her proposition, making the propriety of it solely the Miqo'te's. Her own arguments to the contrary afterward left the Judge curious as to why she had made such a statement in the first place if she was so aware of the falsehood inherent in it.

"FORBIDDEN: FLIP-FLOPPING. RECOMMENDED: SOLUTIONS."

Inessa Hara · **02-12-2015, 03:54 PM**

"On the contrary, I did not disagree with my own statement. There is work out there. An abundance of it for people who want work. It's just that most of the Refugee's are either unskilled, lazy or coward's. If you want me to feel sorry for them then stop wanting because I don't feel sorry for them. If they want to expect a handout all day then that is their choice and I will respect it. However, they are no better than zombies in doing so. The only way you get anywhere in life is if you have the ball's to take your fate into your own hand's."Â Â Inessa says, taking another sip from her cup of Coffee.

Telluride · **02-12-2015, 04:02 PM**

The man in red and white stopped his strumming just long enough to catch bits and snatches of the bar side conversation: something about handouts, choices, and taking fate into one's own hands, or the like. It was hard to hear much more than faint hints of it from his perch at the western table.

He caught himself giving a sharp nod at what he thought he heard, and resumed his plucking of the strings, still light and subdued, but playing a time-honored , slow-tempo version of a melody about a heroic monk who, being the best around, would never be kept down.

OOC:

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Gegenji · **02-12-2015, 04:19 PM**

Well, that was quite the deluge of information from Inessa. This Miqo'te seemed to be quite agitated by the Ala Mhigan refugees outside the walls, and seemed to be forcing her feelings that she should feel sorry for them onto the Judge. He, of course, had said nothing of the sort during their albeit short opening words. The Judge remained silent during her tirade, simply taking another sip of his 2:1 ratio martini. As she brought her own drink to her lips, he set his back down onto the counter.

"RECOMMENDED: SOLUTIONS," he repeated as he clasped his fingers around the stem of his glass. "WHAT WOULD YOU DO?"

The question was neither demanding nor accusatory in tone, simply a thought-provoking and perhaps conversation-leading one. Refugees did what refugees do, and workers do what workers do. A refugee could become a worker, but a worker could just as easily become a refugee. Easier, perhaps.

After all, she had said herself that a lot of the needed work required skill. Skill that the refugees, she had posited, did not possess. So how would a refugee gain the skills needed to obtain work and become a worker? She also posited that they were lazy and cowards, so they obviously could not obtain them on their own. If that was the case, of course, since her damnations seemed rather broad and possibly even unfounded or unwarranted.

However, it was not Jredthys' place to seek to correct her or have her substantiate her claims. He had not been hired to do such things, to mete out his judgment of the refugees and their status. He was simply here to have a drink - as one does in a tavern - and engage in conversation, which one also did in such an establishment. And he was certainly doing both. If he ordered something to eat, he might very well fit the perfect definition of a tavern-goer.

He idly wondered if there was a menu.

Aya · **02-12-2015, 04:33 PM**

(02-12-2015, 03:25 PM)Gegenji Wrote:

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OOC
I don't drink, so I have no idea what you're implying, Aya. I'm sorry.

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Cliodhna Eoghan · **02-12-2015, 05:03 PM**

Giving the heavy, wooden door a shove with her bare shoulder and leaving just enough space to scoot through; Cliodhna entered the Quicksand. In her arms was a rather large, leather-bound book. Blinking a few times; she let her dark jade colored eyes adjust to the lights as she waved her way through the tables. At first intent on a empty one but after a moment, she picked up the plucking of guitar strings. Catching a half smile, she turned and made her way over to the bard's table.

Dropping the heavy book with a loud thunk, she looked at the easily recognized hat obscuring it's owner's features. "Care if I take up some space, or are you waiting for someone?" Her tone lightly playful but not really leaving room to answer "no" as Cliodhna eased into a chair across from him. Fingers already grabbing the pencil behind her ear as she flipped open the book to a scribbled mess of notes, numbers and minute sized drawings; fully intent on getting back to work.

Inessa Hara · **02-12-2015, 05:12 PM**

"I would not do anything. The Ala Mhigan refugee's once had a great empire of their own, ruled by someone who took fate into his hands and did something with it. To help them would not teach them the lesson that is to be learned and that is they must pave their own way in life. So if you want a solution, there is none save that they can only deliver themselves from their situation." She said, taking another long sip of coffee then after said long sip, she sets her cup back on the counter.

"Either way, I could not give two shit's about them. That does not mean I will ignore what goes on around me."

Telluride · **02-12-2015, 05:15 PM**

Nathan stilled the lute strings at the *thunk*, and pushed up the brim of his hat, catching the full glimpse of the familiar feminine figure, with all the implications that the word carried. One brow arched, but the trademark fox-grin disarmed it.

"I'd never prevent you from taking any space you wished, my dear Clio."

He pushed the second flagon of Momodi's ale towards her. "It's my custom to keep an extra drink handy in case of, and especially for, unexpected company. I assure you, it is one hundred percent free of pumpkin or any related gourd-based ingredients."

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