Carcosa, pt. 2

[polymods]

✖ Carcosa

Ⅰ. CARCOSA
You Are Still Here.

Another month, and you’re still in the city of Carcosa! Isn’t that just wonderful?

You still have access to the city’s temple and the High Temple.

The side effects you may have suffered from throughout the month of May are now at an end - if you had a pesky mask glued to your face the whole time it will now fall off. You might need a little moisturizer, but otherwise you’ll be just fine.

You could sit around inside the relative safety of the temples, of course, but why not get out there and explore the city some more? Come on, grumpypants!

---

Ⅱ. SPEAK EASY
CW: Optional alcohol consumption.
What kind of pet shop is filled with rambunctious yahoos and hot jazz music at 1 AM? That's right - the best damn pet shop in town! Sidle up to the back door of Curly's Pet Shop and a panel will open enough to reveal a pair of eyes. "What's the password?" you'll be asked. Whatever word first comes to your mind, well, that apparently is correct because you're let in at once.

The front of the building definitely does indeed house fish and birds and kittens, but the back room is definitely not a good place to find a new animal companion; you find yourself in a crowded little room with low lighting and a small bar crammed into one corner. There's seats and some tables, and most importantly there's a band playing jazz music across from the bar.

Why not take a seat and have a drink? It's probably not paint thinner. Probably. Maybe you'll spot some of your fellow Travelers and you can sit and have a chat. Make a new friend who can hold your hair back if you party too hard.

And you better hope that the place doesn’t get raided!

Notes:
1. The drinks are all era-appropriate - you’re not getting Redbull with vodka here - and even if your character has non-human physiology they will work the same as they would on a baseline human. That’s right, your magic or your healing-factor or your vampire blood is no match for these Gin Rickeys!

2. If Curly’s does get raided while you’re there, you can run and hide or choose to engage with the police, who are armed and not too shy about opening fire if you go on the offensive. As with the rest of the regular residents of Carcosa, the officers are human and can be killed. Killing them may affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation. (Is it beneficial to personal growth to kill in order to save someone else, for example? You tell me!)

3. Did you want a pet from the front of the building? Well, just remember that baby turtles and alligators might SEEM like a good idea, but they grow up! Also any animal you take will not travel with you to the next island. So sorry.

---

Ⅲ. EXPRESSIONISM YOURSELF
CW: Optional paranoia, hallucinations.
If you wander the streets at night, you may find yourself getting turned around. You'll find that the streets have lost their many lights, and the beautiful and delicate art deco architecture has given way to something much more stark and heavy. The buildings are block-like, but they curve in exaggerated ways that hurt the eye if looked at too long. All are in blacks and whites and greys. Nothing looks quite real, but you can walk along just fine. Probably better not to go off alone, though.


Periodically you will encounter that pesky sign of some sort painted on the walls. If you follow the sigils, you will eventually be led to a long staircase that winds down and down until it finally terminates in a large white room lit by a few electric lanterns. There's black paint there, with brushes. Maybe you're feeling creative?

Notes:
1. You’re pretty sick of this stupid sigil, aren’t you? In fact, you consider yourself QUITE the detective and have been searching after its meaning! Or maybe you played Call of Cthulhu a lot in college, you nerd!

Painting the sigil on the wall will cause you to feel disoriented and paranoid until you leave the white room. From that point on you can discover a copy of a play entitled The King In Yellow anywhere in the city you choose. Reading the first act of the play has no effect on you, however if you choose to read beyond the first line of the second act you will spend the rest of the month suffering from periodic hallucinations, often of a tall man in a pallid mask.

2. While there is no compulsion to paint, choosing to work out any of your character’s issues through art therapy can be reflected in your Scrywatch colour if it is significant enough.

---

Ⅳ. AS FAR BACK AS I CAN REMEMBER, I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE A GANGSTER
CW: Optional gun violence, injury.
Art? Theatre? Music? BAH! Boring!

Maybe your tastes are a little more on the dangerous side? Whatever this island may be, it seems to offer plenty of opportunities to get into the seedy underbelly. Maybe you feel the need to steal a car, rob a bank, transport some illegal hooch for a smiling fellow in a yellow fedora. Grab your tommy guns, kids, it's time to outrun the Feds!

Naturally, you could wind up injured having all of this fun, but surely you could get some help from your fellow Travelers, either directly or by having them haul you to some sort of underground doctor. These doctors do exist, although it might take a while to get referred to one by a local.

You might also find yourself under arrest and stuck in an old-timey jail cell for a month. What fun!

Notes:
1. As was stated in the first prompt, the regular residents of Carcosa are normal humans. Killing them is possible and may affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation. Any weapons you find are era-appropriate.

2. You can break out of jail if you’re resourceful enough.

3. The underground doctors aren’t working in a real hospital for a reason. In fact, some of them might be less doctors and more, well. Vets.

You still jamming to that Carcosa playlist?

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

Chloe | Detroit: Become Human | OTA

[neverwither]

⭕ PET SHOP

( Of course Chloe is going to go into the pet shop – there’s the promise of cute fluffy and feathery things. The rest of the noise is ignored for now as she takes her time peering at all the animals.

The birds are her first port of call, marvelling at their colours. It’s such a shame that until someone buys them – and assumedly treats them well – they don’t really have the room to fly. As if to soften that blow for them, she makes a few coos and chirps at them. They flit from short perch to short perch and flap their wings a bit but otherwise don’t seem as enamoured of Chloe’s presence as she is with theirs.

Moving along, she spots a sight that instantly tugs at her heartstrings. Sitting alone in a cage is an adorable little bunny. And that won’t do. That won’t do at all.

Fortunately for Chloe, the rabbit seems to be a friendly soul as she scoops it out of the enclosure and into her arms. Sitting down on the floor in case her new friend decides to take a flying leap, she rests it in her lap. Stroking its soft fur, she murmurs soothingly. )

You’re not supposed to be alone. Where’s your friend, hmm?

(As she knows enough about them to be aware of the fact they’re gregarious creatures who should be sold in pairs or as part of a group. Maybe this one will become part of a pair, but still. It’s irresponsible. Maybe she’ll have to pay another visit to question Curly on their business ethics.)



⭕ SPEAK EASY

( Following the music, Chloe gains entry into the back room. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like the sort of establishment she should frequent. Not everyone is as torn, resulting in her being jostled into the joint as revellers bustle around – and into – the dithering android.

Maybe she can stay for a little while and enjoy the music. It beats drifting around the city or drifting around the temple. The clearly not above-board nature of it all aside, there’s nothing that seems glaringly strange. Not for now, at least. It’s a welcome relief, but one that Chloe doesn’t let herself settle into too much. A sting in the tail may not make itself apparent immediately.

She stands by the bar, focusing in on the band. A smiling bartender sets a drink down next to her. In spite of her protests that no, that really isn’t necessary, but thank you, the bartender insists she gives it a whirl. There’s a glint in the bartender’s eyes that piques her curiosity (not that it’s hard to do so).

Picking up the drink, she peers at it. Slowly swirls the liquid around in the glass. Chloe glances back to the bartender, who just gives a little nod.

Well. When in Rome. Or something like that. Maybe the island has gotten to her. Or maybe a damaged system just doesn’t matter so much anymore.

Taking a tentative sip, Chloe waits for the inevitable system warnings. A moment passes. Then another. Nothing. No internal alerts to signal critical issues with her biocomponents. No sort of sensation that would suggest any kind of issue with her biocomponents. She’s just standing there having a drink.

Reckless as it is, she finishes the glass. Whether it’s the revelation of being able to consume the booze at all, the booze itself or a combination of the two that makes her start to feel rather giddy, who knows?

But it is interesting. Very interesting. Certainly something that warrants further testing. Just to see.

She orders herself a second round, sipping at it. )

Well. That really is quite something.




⭕ EXPRESSIONISM YOURSELF

( Chloe’s wanderings lead her to the white room, its stark, bare walls reminiscent of the tech lab. An eternally blank slate waiting to be written upon. Waiting for the next discovery to be made. And while this room isn’t that room, it’s so easy to picture.

A man at work, surrounded by devices of his own invention and those he’s had to upgrade to raise them above their mass-produced roots. A man who doesn’t sleep for hours because you can’t stop progress, and progress will wait for no man. Not even the man who changed the world.

Without her usual daily routine, there’s been so much time to just think.

It only takes her a moment to reach for the painting supplies once she spies them. Art has always appealed to her. Her talents may not have been worked for but she finds a freedom in the creative expression (even if how creative she may truly be has been the subject of very literal debate).

Her creator has always had the same response; she likes it and therefore it doesn’t matter what anyone else has to say about it.

The walls shouldn’t be so lifeless. They could really use a little flair. Something pretty to look at. Yes, a little beauty makes everything much better.

Brush in hand and standing before one of the walls, Chloe closes her eyes and searches her memory for a spark of inspiration. With an image in mind, blue eyes open as she begins to paint a lone female figure. Anyone familiar may recognise it as Rodin’s Galatea, only lacking her male counterpart. That and Chloe’s depiction is photo realistic. Meticulously detailed beyond the original statue, from certain angles it looks like it’s standing there in the room. The artist herself seems calm, the brush moving with an almost eerie precision. )

PET SHOP

[extrasensory_problems]

You’re not supposed to be alone. Where’s your friend, hmm?

(Carter had thought he was alone in the petshop so when he hears a voice suddenly speak out he freezes, the words causing a sudden chill going down his spine. He turns from where he had been studying a small baby turtle in a tank, half expecting some kind of ghost or otherworldly creature to be standing there. He's already seen weird ocean zombies so he wouldn't put it past this weird island....)

Hello?

(He takes a few steps out from where the turtles are and then sees a girl sitting on the floor.)

Oh! Uh, hi.

[neverwither]

( In her own little rabbity world, Chloe's startled by the voice. At least the person doesn't look like a furious pet shop owner ready to give her a telling off for helping herself to the merchandise. Even if she has every intention of putting the rabbit back.

Probably.

A smile soon appears on her face, albeit one that's kind of embarrassed. Sitting around on the floor isn't the most becoming thing. Talking to rabbits probably isn't, either. )

I'm sorry, I didn't realise anyone else was here. I couldn't really resist saying hello to this little one.

[extrasensory_problems]

I also thought I was the only one here, so you actually kind of scared me when you spoke up.

(Carter smiles and hunkers down to look at the rabbit she is holding.)

Aw that's cute. I've never seen one so round and tiny before.

[neverwither]

I should have paid more attention, I'm sorry. Hopefully we're not quite so scary now.

( Jokes aren't her forte but she attempts a little one anyway. Though it then conjures to mind how there have been some alarming incidents on the island and perhaps she shouldn't kid around about things being frightening.

Thankfully her fluffy companion provides something else to focus on. )

This one seems to enjoy all the fuss. Would you like to hold them? I'm sure they'd appreciate even more attention.

( As she hasn't gotten around to determining the sex of the animal but steadfastly refuses to refer to the rabbit as it. )

[extrasensory_problems]

(Carter smiles and shakes his head.)

You don't have to apologize, I'm just a bit jumpy I guess. The last month has been kind of...uh...weird.

(When she offers to let him hold the rabbit he shakes his head gently.)

No thanks, they look pretty happy right where they are but if it's okay I'd like to pet them.

[neverwither]

That's completely understandable. Weird is... most definitely a way to describe it.

( And while she might not admit it, part of her is waiting for monsters to burst into the place or for the rabbit to morph into an Eldritch beast or that the chirping of the birds will somehow make her spill her (non-existent) soul.

At least it's all perfectly nice and perfectly fine at this precise moment. That's something. )

Oh, of course! I don't think they'd mind at all.

( Chloe angles both herself and the bunny so the little creature will be easier to pet. For the rabbit's part, it makes a curious stretch towards him, nose twitching away. )

[extrasensory_problems]

Yeah I'm sure you understand the weirdness, seeing how we have matching...uh wristwatches.

(He gestures at the ScryWatch that sits on both their wrists and then moves to sit on the floor, since hunkering is starting to make his thighs burn. He smiles as Chloe angles herself so he can pet the rabbit, which he does very gently.)

I'm Carter by the way.

[neverwither]

Oh. Yes. That.

( Passing it off as carefully shifting the rabbit once again, she does her best to keep the ScryWatch's colour out of view. Yellow may only be mediocre but it still isn't a ringing endorsement of emotional stability. Others are no doubt in the same boat but she doesn't want to advertise herself as a member of that crew. )

I'm Chloe. It's lovely to meet you, Carter. It hasn't been too bad for you, I hope? All the weirdness.

Birds and fish and bunnies, oh my!

[lickstheevidence]

[It's the noise that draws Connor's attention. He's taken to long, rambling walks in the evening, just exploring, poking his nose into various odds and ends, doorways, alleys, shops, the library. He'd spent all night in the library, and several nights after that, absorbing material about anything and everything that caught his fancy, from children's bedtime stories to parchment-dry scientific tomes. Rebuilding his knowledge now that he was cut off from Cyberlife's servers, if he needed to justify the time spent there to himself; really it was his own insatiable curiosity that drove him to pursue this version of selfishness. Or maybe it was Cyberlife's programming- was his curiosity really his own? Did anything of him belong solely to him?

Connor shakes his head- he's no philosopher, and has no aspirations to that end. Leave it to the deep thinkers to figure out the meaning of his existence. He's tired of chasing his own tail through the rabbit hole of his thoughts. Was that a mixed metaphor? He snorts, vaguely amused at himself.

The noise. As he approaches the source, it becomes clear that what he's hearing is music, and not just any music; this was jazz, one of Hank's favorite genres, and that's another rabbit hole he won't be exploring right now. He misses him terribly, but if he acknowledges that it becomes real and then it has power over him and then?

He lets his feet wander toward the music, and it's only at the last minute that he realizes there's a pet shop in the front. Bypassing the speakeasy portion of the building for now, he shuffle-slides a few steps to the beat of the music before entering the relatively quiet by comparison pet shop. His eyes are immediately drawn to the birds, with their riot of colors and the alien intelligence behind their eyes. A smile- a bright, genuine smile -blooms on his lips, lighting up his entire face, a spark of wonder igniting in his eyes. The last time he'd been this close to a bird he'd been investigating Rupert Travis's pigeon-infested apartment, and not being deviant at the time he hadn't paid them any mind other than to note Rupert's interest in them for later interrogation purposes. It was a shame; birds were quite interesting creatures on their own merit, and his delight at seeing such exotic specimens was evident to anyone who might be looking. But no one would be, not in this quiet shop, right? Connor only allows himself to express such unrestrained emotions when he's alone. And don't even get him started on the fish! They're his next target, right after he makes friends with this brilliantly blue parrot the color of fresh thirium. Approaching cautiously and murmuring nonsense in a soothing tone, it doesn't take long for the parrot to decide he's trustworthy enough to hop onto his arm, then his shoulder. He's still burbling to the parrot as he turns to head for the fish tanks.]

That's right, that's right, easy does it, let's go see the fish, would you like that? Let's just go over here to see the fish.

[He's like the fucking bird whisperer, chuckling softly as it pecks curiously at his LED. Connor loves animals and he's absolutely entranced to be around so many of them in one place. He can relax and be himself with animals; they won't judge him or worse, find him lacking.]

[neverwither]

( It’s so strange how she can hear shades of herself in the familiar voice. But then, they do share a creator. Perhaps all manner of not so dissimilar programming has been buried within them for his own purposes.

Maybe just because.

And she really shouldn’t think that way.

Cradling her now dozing rabbit friend, Chloe eases herself up off of the floor. She should just set the bunny back, slip out of the shop and leave Connor be. Though she can’t bring herself to just abandon him, even if he may very well be better off without her meddling.

He said he was afraid. And that she can’t just ignore.

There’s a deeply selfish element at play, too. In spite of everything, he is at least an android and there’s a comfort in not being the only one. They can understand each other in some way.

Or she could be clutching at straws to not feel so desperately alone.

So she can make an exit if she needs to, Chloe stands a way behind him and observes. A bemused smile appears on her lips as he’s found himself a parrot. More importantly, the parrot seems perfectly comfortable with Connor. For Chloe, it speaks volumes.

Animals have never been especially fond of Elijah, and Elijah has never been especially fond of them.

The parrot perching on his shoulder, and his cooing to it, gives her enough confidence to walk up beside him, a gentle smile at the ready. )

Do you mind if we look at the fish as well?

( There’s plenty of scope for him to tell her to get lost. If these run-ins continue, he might feel like he’s the one being hunted.

Funny. )

[lickstheevidence]

[Connor visibly jumps at her question, the parrot startling and flying off his shoulder with a squawk. Whipping his body around, he stares at her accusingly, eyes wide with shock. How had he not noticed that she was there? His thirium pump is pounding in his chest, his LED spinning red. Were his systems so unreliable since his deviation that he couldn't even sense the presence of another android? The parrot has found a perch at the top of a shelf, peering down at them as Connor looks back to it, then to Chloe again. His features soften some as the initial fright subsides.]

I, uhm. What? Right, yes. Yeah. Yeah, that's okay. I'll uhm, I'll get out of your way.

[He backs off, stumbling over a display before catching himself and reaching out to keep it upright, his eyes on Chloe the entire time like she's some sort of threat.]

[neverwither]

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I should have let you know I was here instead of creeping up on you. I'm sorry.

( Apologies flow freely though after the masquerade, she's less concerned with poking at the Deviant Hunter and more so with adding to Connor's fears.

She's an idiot, really. One who never knows when to leave well enough alone. His hasty exit before should have made things quite clear. To pursue is a selfish act, no matter how much she might claim good intentions or dress it up as being for his sake. Who would want to be confronted by the thing that may very well have given birth to some of those fears? )

It's alright. We can both look, if you don't mind that? Or I can leave you to enjoy them.

( Her tone says the choice is his, and that she understands if he doesn't want her anywhere near him. After all, why should she take any kind of offence when she is the offensive thing here?

Acutely aware of the gaze, she lightly clasps her hands behind her back and diverts her gaze down to the floor. No threat here. Just a foolish android. )

[lickstheevidence]

[His immediate thought is to tell her that of course she didn't startle him, but there was no sense in denying reality. She clearly saw him jump a mile. Straightening his tie, he squares himself up against his embarrassment, but he can't hide the flush of blue coloring his cheeks.]

I knew you were there, I was just...distracted.

[It's a lame finish, and his shoulders slump in defeat. If she didn't know he was deviant before (unlikely), surely she knows now. What's the use? Why is he bothering to keep up the charade? For her sake? His? More than that, why is she bothering? He'd almost killed her!]

No. No, I don't mind.

[He approaches slowly, his eyes flicking between her and the fish. He really wants to look at the fish; one of them looks like a dwarf gourami! Probably too soon he's standing beside her, but his attention is drawn like a magnet towards the fish as he steps forward, crouching a little to get a better look, mesmerized.]

Do you see these smaller fish, the ones that are schooling? They're called harlequin rasboras, also known as red rasboras, in the family Cyprinidae. They're related to goldfish, and are very peaceful inhabitants in a community aquarium. In a larger tank with a school of 25 or more they can be a sight to behold. Even this little group makes for a fun display. I think the star of this tank has to be the dwarf gourami, though. Trichogaster ialius, and they are also schooling fish. I first saw a dwarf gourami on my first mission, when a deviant-

[Connor had been smiling, his eyes shining with wonder, much like they had with the parrot. When he turns his head to look over his shoulder at Chloe, he stops smiling, standing again as he composes himself and turns to face her, mirroring her earlier posture with his hands clasped behind his back.]

You didn't come here to listen to me blather on and on about fish. I'm sorry.

[neverwither]

( Chloe is not in any position to be making commentary about someone putting on an act. So she doesn't. If Connor is indeed a deviant (a possibility there seems to be mounting evidence for) but wanting to keep up the facade of being a machine, he must have his reasons. And they are exactly that - his reasons.

Looking up from the floor, she keeps her gaze fixed on the fish tank. That way she can avoid seeming like she's prying with only a look. Even when he crouches in front of the display, she tries to keep herself from peeking at him too much. The feel of her eyes boring into the back of him could only inflame the situation.

The more he talks, the more she wants to steer clear of such an ignition. All things considered, he appears relatively at ease as he speaks about the colourful swimming specimens. That makes her smile a little to herself.

When he does eventually look at her, she keeps the smile in place. )

No, no, please don't apologise. You can talk about them as much as you'd like to. I'm enjoying listening to you.

( She isn't humouring him, either. The facts he's reeling off are interesting in themselves. What's far more interesting is the fact that, for a moment, he's just been talking to her. Sharing some small part of himself with her. Something that hasn't been forced by a suffocating mask. )

What do you especially like about the dwarf gourami?

[lickstheevidence]

[Connor takes another step back, looking cornered; he wraps his arms around himself, hugging tightly and shivering. His gaze falls to the floor, off to the side, away from her.]

Why are you being nice to me? I nearly killed you. I nearly killed them all. Everything was almost ruined because of me. I know you hate me, just like they all do. Why are you pretending?

[His voice has risen, almost hysterical as he tries to make himself as small as possible in the face of her inevitable cutting anger. And why shouldn't she be angry? He's the Deviant Hunter, isn't he? The other androids' worst nightmare, the boogeyman that creeps in the dark. Why shouldn't she hate him as much as he hates himself?]

[neverwither]

( It's an alarming scene. After a moment of contemplation, it dawns on Chloe that it isn't Connor himself that is alarming but the unpredictability. The doubts to his deviancy are eradicated as she can't imagine Connor the Deviant Hunter, Connor the Machine, acting as he is now.

She sees the same in him as she did at the masquerade; fear and pain too genuine to be anything other than the truth.

Her immediate instinct is to offer comfort, yet he seems in a state where an offered hand could be interpreted as a hand ready to strike him. It keeps her rooted to the spot to avoid any misreading of any movement. Her eyes stay on him but it's the ever gentle Chloe gaze. )

Connor, listen to me, okay? I'm not pretending. I don't hate you. I'm being nice to you because I want to be. I don't know your pain but I do know how it feels to be afraid. I'm sorry. I'm sure I'm making it worse for you. I just... I wouldn't want you to feel like you're alone.

speak easy

[queenking]

Man, if I had a nickel for every time I've seen someone try booze for the first time... [Saxsice is perched on a nearby seat, wearing men's clothes -- oversized jacket, loose slacks, et cetera -- and sipping from her own drink. But she grins at the young woman, raising her glass a little.]

...I'd probably get closed down for allowin' underage drinkin'. [She finishes with a low, rough chuckle.] You look old enough, though. Never tried liquor before?

Re: speak easy

[neverwither]

( All smiles, Chloe raises her glass in return. ) I like your outfit. ( The most vital thing to say before anything else, obviously. )

( What the woman actually said swirls around in her processing, making her let out a short giggle. Technically no, she isn’t old enough. But what do technicalities matter when you were never born, never grew up and will never grow any older? )

No, I’ve never been able to. I’ve haven’t been somewhere like this before, I mean.

( Good save, Chloe. And technically not a lie as she hasn’t ever visited a 1920’s speakeasy. )

But I think I like it.

[queenking]

[The compliment gets a delighted grin, and Saxsice stretches out her legs (very nearly tripping another passer-by) and crosses one leg over the other, showing off the pinstriped slacks to best effect.] Yeah? I feel like a gangster. It's a good feelin'. You look nice to.

[Then she frowns, leaning forward and giving the other woman a long, searching look.] Never able to? You weren't allowed? That's a cryin' shame, darlin'.

[neverwither]

( Chloe looks down at the flapper dress she’s acquired for herself. Chloe in pants? Perish the thought! Pulling off the look the other woman is sporting requires a certain degree of cool, and Chloe is certainly not cool. As the outfit is showcased more, Chloe studies her again with a nod.)

At least Carcosa’s aesthetic can be appreciated. I am fond of a good suit. And I would definitely say that aesthetic works for you.

( The woman’s expression is met with a bright ‘everything is super so there’s no need to delve into it too much’ smile. )

But it’s happening now and so let’s turn that frown upside down. None of that on Chloe’s watch. ( A pause. ) That’s me. Chloe. I’m Chloe. And you?

[queenking]

[Flattery will get you anywhere, judging by Saxsice's wide, delighted grin. She lets the strangeness of the previous comments slide in favor of adjusting herself in her chair and preening a little.] Well, ain't you sweet. It's sure different from my normal type'a clothes, but I agree, I think I'm rockin' it.

[Then she shifts her glass to her right hand, offering her left one to shake.] Saxsice King, pleasure's all mine, Chloe.

[neverwither]

( Chloe takes her hand to give it a perfectly polite shake. ) Delighted to meet you, Saxcise. What a very pretty name.

( Despite her own comment about frowning, that’s exactly the expression Chloe’s features fall into. )

I’m sorry if I’m being too… enthusiastic. It’s probably time to slow down on this already.

( She raises her glass on ‘this’ to demonstrate, and to make a bit of fun at her own expense. At least she currently has the self-awareness to see that she might be veering out of the being friendly vibe and into ‘I’ve barely left my house in ten years, please let me talk to people’ territory. )

[queenking]

Thanks. Made it myself. [Obviously, since it's...not a real name. Saxsice doesn't elaborate, moving on instead to shaking her head.]

Shame's for sinners n' priests, darlin'. Only thing you should be worryin' about is the headache you're gonna have tomorrow if you've never gotten drunk before. [She offers a smile, sipping easily at her own glass, the liquor going down smooth as water.] Hangover's are nobody's friends. But you aren't embarrassin' yourself, if that's what you're worried about.

[neverwither]

( Interesting. But since Saxcise doesn't appear to want to go into any more details, Chloe doesn't pry. Except for the kind of curious look that maybe lasts a beat too long.

Very astute, as that's definitely something she's worried about. She smiles back, reassured by the woman's easy-going demeanour. )

Ah, you sound like you know a thing or two about hangovers. Not that I'm trying to suggest you might drink a lot. Do you have any tips for making the morning after less miserable?

( Most likely, it's an irrelevant question for herself. While she doesn't have any idea what effects the alcohol might have on her system beyond what she's experiencing in the moment, she at least doesn't feel pain. Still. All information is useful information. Who knows what could come in handy on this weird island? )