Raven's Nest: Lancer Barracks and Bar (RolePlaying Enforced)

A mail carrier rushes through the door with a package for Old Hank.

He receives it, looks at the label and smiles.
"Ah... the results are finally here."

As he walks towards the central billboard, bored Lancers scattered about the bar take notice.

After posting it to the billboard he steps back to review the results for himself. Others soon gather behind him.
"Hmmm..."

He studies the report sternly.
"Should be an interesting holiday season."



[POLL HAS BEEN RESET]

 

Chrome stumbles into the Nest covered in fresh bruises, cuts, stitches, and with a few fresh twitches. His motor control seems a bit off from the norm. Not that his normal was ever quite... standard. With a pronounced sigh he props himself with his back against the bar, squeezing between a patron or two.

"So Hank, line me up a Fireball or five would ya? I seem a might parched. The road to Valhalla works up quite a thirst." An uncontrollable twitch takes over the left side of his face and pulls his standard maniacal smile into something a touch more maddened as he gazes about the room.

 

Chrome shrugs as Glitch walks away without bothering to stay and converse. Rather terse and rude if you were to ask him, which Glitch apparently didn't bother to. He pours a fireball over the steak and then picks it up, taking a large bite and glances around thoughtfully. He gives another shrug to Hank. "Not bad."

 

Canrad walks into the Nest, with Ember at his side "Next time let's double check that L-" he cuts off mid-sentence, and Ember looks up from her pad, slightly puzzled. Canrad nods a greeting to Glitch, even though he's never met the guy before. But continues walking into the bar.

Spotting Chrome at the bar, Canrad pauses for a moment, then turns to Ember fully, and lowers his voice. "that LRM rack before next deployment. I don't want a repeat of that last outing." With a slightly admonitioning tone. Ember blushed a little bit, but nods with acceptance. "That won't happen again boss." He spots the crowd of Lancers gathered near the billboard and begins walking over. Making a satisfied noise, he turns. "I'm going to get a drink, want one?"

"Sure boss, I could use a bit of a unwinder." She flashes a quick smile. She goes off to find a booth. Canrad walks up to the bar, alongside Chrome. "Hello Chrome. I gotta say, you may be crazy, but you're handy to have around in a fight."

 

Chrome slides a fireball over to Canrad. "My merits are debatable. I'm certain my employers are of a split mind at the moment." Downing another fireball and a bite of the steak he manages to speak around the mouthful, "as are the environmental agencies judging by the newsvids." A hacking cough indicates he probably shouldn't have been speaking, drinking, and eating at the same time as he begins choking, though that is corrected quickly as he spits up a half chewed bit of beef onto the floor of the Nest without much of a care. "Bleh, beer me Hank."

"So, what do you make of them 'beep boop bopper' types? Never seen drones like that before. Nasty bastards. I'm not thrilled some got away"

 

Chrome stares at the newcomer, face twitching now and again, a sense of confusion on his face. After a moment he tears off another hunk of steak and chews. Deliberately. Around the mouthful (he doesn't seem to have taken the lesson) he says, "So. Don't let you interrupt, but stop to answer your question."

After swallowing and a gulp of beer he swivels his eyes back to Canard.