randomplaces | Nexus. Black Dog. Drinks with the Overlord

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Nexus. Black Dog. Drinks with the Overlord

((Continued from here.))

There isn't too much down at floor level, but the minions will probably find the small group of human size tables that are tucked over under a massive bonsai display that looks like a cliff face. There are ketchup, creamers, and sugar packets to be found on those tables. And a few of the curious patrons drop bits of energon plaster 'cookie' or even bits of (simple but very tasty) organic food to the strange little creatures as they watch them scramble about.

Requiem snerks at them, then goes to one knee to offer the Overlord and his remaining retinue a lift up to the top of the bar with his hand.

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The Overlord doesn't think twice about it. He steps on the offered hand as if expecting the courtesy, the minions climbing on after him. Around the pub come the sounds of minions taste-testing what isn't nailed down, climbing on what is, and occasionally exclaiming "Treasure!" when they find the bits of glowing energon.

Except for the Blues. They just eat it.

"Hey." The bartender, a stocky green-black femme with optics the colour of dried blood and a more than passing family resemblance to Blackout leans an elbow on the bar and frowns at the Overlord. "Contain your pets, buddy. I don't like my place trashed."

Requiem looks over his shoulder as he sets his hand on the bar near the human sized table that's just been set near Blackout's place. "Relax, Nem. There's nothin' for 'em to trash. They can't get Archiva's plants."

Nemesis grumbles territorialy, but then snerks as Pink grabs the box of small energon cookies that Blackout just bought and goes to see just how many she can get the Blues to eat.

The Overlord steps off Requiem's hand and fixes the inn's giant mistress with a cool stare. The resemblance to Blackout is noted, but not registered as familial. Nearly all the machines he's met so far fit that pattern.

He takes a seat just as Pink's beneficence provokes a fresh wave of rising cries from the minions among the tables. He knows their single-mindedness about 'treasure'. He has to wonder how they'll bring it up here.

What is she feeding them? he asks of Requiem.

"Energon cookies," says the big warrior, the chuckle clear in his voice as he watches the little Minicon smack a few heads to try and get the minions to wait in an orderly manner to get their treats. "Smells like cinnaSeekers."

Then he snerks as Blackout offers him another of the cookies, this one slightly taller than the Overlord. "Thanks, Boss."

"Rhinox!" Nemesis is calling even as she mixes a cube of something sulfur yellow and black which booms and flashes with each addition. "Stop snogging your femme and get over here. We've got a small customer."

Pink will be at that game a long time, trying to get the minions to behave like orderly beings*. Greater Evils than she have tried. (Really, no-one does it as well as Gnarl.)

The Overlord might -might!- just give Nemesis a suspicious look about that 'small'. Not that he's about to argue the description. Plenty of people call him that who aren't thirty-foot metal things. Energon?

*The fact that they are basically Always Chaotic Evil, as the trope goes, may be factor.

The little femme doesn't mind. She's having a heyday over there, beeping and laughing and teasing the little goblinoids with the glowing treats even as she tries to sort them out. Being a child of Chaos herself, she's not actually all that bothered by the fact that they won't organize. But she doesn't want anybody to go without.

"Pure energy." Requiem bites his cookie and rumbles his pleasure, then nods to the menu board behind the bar. "Grab somethin' for yourself. Nem's got all kinds'a pie 'n cookies. And she's got fried potatoes with cheese 'n gravy, too."

And here comes a stocky green bot with red optics and what looks like the lower jaw of something on his chest. He's got a bar towel in one large hand, and leaps down to the lower level of the massive counter as he nears the Overlord's table and starts sorting through glasses. "Alright, what's yours?"

He's wearing a shield strapped to his back, and as he moves two little faces are visible over his shoulders. One is sound asleep, big optics closed as he cuddles a cat shaped canvas doll with the ears chewed off, but the other is looking around with optics of a bright blue as he clicks and beeps eagerly.

So these things consume either magic or life-force. That might explain how they're powered. The Overlord looks up at the menu dubiously. I do not eat in the Nexus. The minions are immune. Or expendable. Or a little of both.

He rests his elbows on the table and eyes the green bartender thoughtfully. It's not suspicion exactly. That's reserved for the small... creatures on its back. No, maybe he's wondering about the slightly misplaced-looking teeth. Or how much he doesn't want the mental image of these beings 'snogging'.

What do you have? he rumbles after a minute. Behind him, half his entourage has already disappeared into stealth-mode. The Greens are seen only in a whisper of outlines and the occasional flash of yellow eyes.

Nope. No magic here. Though he could possibly be able to pick up the fact that something makes Blackout's crew immune to much magic other than the kinds that don't affect them directly.

"Nem doesn't sell bad food," rumbles Requiem, but it's more a note than anything. He's more interested in his cookie.

Rhinox lists off a modestly impressive ale and beer list, then goes onto the wines, some of which are from exotic places far from Earth. And then he lists the whiskeys, the rum, and some of the cool things he can do with said rum and other ingredients. In short, there's pretty well anything most people could want.

Oh, and there are TF size bowls up here that hold low grade energon pellets that are mostly filler, but which still carry an enticing glow.

Edited 2010-05-17 16:13 (UTC)

The lead Blue peers over the table beside his Overlord. His jaw drops steadily as Rhinox lists on... and on...

The Overlord and his minion look at each other. And they look back at Rhinox.

"That's lots of beer, master," a confused Brown tells Lord Gromgard. Then it jumps up on the table to look for all the beer. It shades its eyes with a clawed hand as it peers about.

The Overlord rests his axe against his knees as he considers. What is the difference?

"Flavor, colour," rumbles Rhinox, shrugging. "Some of them are a little thicker than the others, and some have more alcohol content." Then he lifts a dark bottle and displays the label, which says it's a dark ale from Ireland. "This one's my favorite."

"Beer, grrrrr." The little sleeper has wakened and is wrinkling his nose.

"Hush, Dinobot. I'm busy."

These are many more shades of variety than young lord Gromgard can comprehend, used as he is to three forms of alcohol: beer and ale (probably containing pumpkin), and wine (probably not). There’s also the hypothetical ale and beer (non-pumpkinated), but he’s still undecided about accepting that.

At least standards are on his side. Standards mean he can’t go drinking any kind of peasanty ale, beer or mead (humorous Midwinter incidents in the kitchen excepted). He’s not sure about rum, but then he’s never even had a boat.

Wine, then, he concludes. …A kind that isn’t sweet. He knows about as much about wine as he does beer. But he remembers certain rants and has picked up a couple of things. Some wines are sweeter then others, especially elvish ones. Also, the kind he had was cheap and there are others which apparently are better. It’s not a lot to work with.

Why does the innkeep's man... machine... have another smaller one on his back? Does every machine around here have a minion-type creature of its own? He glances around surreptitiously to see where Blackout’s got to. Well, he tries to be surreptitious. The helmet’s line of sight forces him to turn his head a lot.

Blackout's sitting just over there, rumbling her amusement as her drink detonates explosively as Nemesis hands it to her. Scorponok takes a flying header into it, and this makes Blackout laugh even more.

"Red or white?" Rhinox is poised and ready to pick up a bottle as he waits for the answer, and on his back Dinobot and the other tiny bot are having an intense conversation of clicks and squeaks that seems to be regarding the chewed on cat doll.

"Need something?" asks Requiem, noticing the looking around. Blackout glances over quizzically as she hears the question.

Red, he says, picking at random and giving the answer casually. The minions with him are peering suspiciously at the mini-machines.

Observing, the Overlord replies to Requiem, eyes taking note of his hosts' activities.

About then there's a huffing and puffing and the first Brown scrambles claw over claw onto the bar. It pants and then hurries to proudly offer the glowing chip of energon it bears. "For the master!"

Blackout rumbles amusement at the Brown as Rhinox pours a glass of a nice red wine that's not too dry and not too sweet and sets it before the Overlord.

"Persistent little glitch."

Nemesis glances over. "Hey... where'd the ladder go now?"

And it's about this time that Dinobot decides to chew on his doll's ear and growl about it. The other bittybot squeaks about this excitedly.

The ladder, you ask? Why, the Blues are using it! That is, the ones who've found things to bring back instead of eat themselves. They're ~~smart~~ dignified like that. Some of the Browns are clustering around to clamber up themselves, and some of the more eager ones are... taking a shortcut.

And the Greens? One of them just leaps onto the side of the bar and scuttles up the last couple of feet, sniggering at its cousins.

They will succeed for me or die trying. The Overlord takes the glowing chip of energy cautiously. It flashes and disappears, absorbed automatically. He blinks, and then takes a sip of wine to cover his surprise.

"Something like this lot." Blackout backhands Requiem in the side, which results in a mighty clang. Then she pauses and arches a brow plate. "Did you just eat energon?"

Requiem and Nemesis are watching him now with mild curiosity. Rhinox is busy organizing things down on the lower level of the bar and humming to the bitties on his back.

The Overlord looks down at his gauntleted hand and flexes it. My power consumed it. He has another sip of wine before he simplifies: Yes.

Or. Well, close enough. The next wave of minions bearing gifts are running over. He's not sure now whether he wants them.

"Watch it," rumbles Requiem, returning his attention to his cookie. "Pink'll be trying to feed you next."

Blackout backhands him again, then leans an elbow on the bar to watch the Overlord's minions. "...You going to be able to handle that much?"

She's not concerned. There's amusement in her deep alto as she watches. It's just as amusing to watch someone else's minions as it is to watch her own.

Lord Gromgard gives Requiem a hard look. I am no-one's pet.

He accepts another couple of chips (and some peculiar-looking coins, and also for some reason a small inscribed card of hard material, which apparently counts as 'treasure'). He inspects the card and bends it a bit before he shrugs privately and pockets it. Of course I can handle it. It is merely energy. Albeit a strange and rawly potent kind he doesn't recognise the sensation of.

Really, he's trusting the minions on this. It's eery, how they seem to know his capacity for things almost better than he does...

"It has nothing to do with being a pet," says Blackout, amused. "She feeds me." Then she quirks a browplate and pushes the bowl of energon and mineral pellets over near the Overlord's table, where his minions will be able to see it. This done, she lifts her symbiont from her drink and has a long pull on it.

Oh dear. Once some of them spot it, there's at least four cries of "For the master!" and the pattering of clawed feet. The Overlord himself doesn't think much of it. His mistake.

This place seems very quiet, he remarks, letting the Green coiled over the edge of the table have a sniff of his wine.

Blackout tilts an audio receiver toward the deep hum of conversation and laughter that's coming from the various tables and booths, then shrugs one shoulder. "It's not band night."

Rhinox comes back up to the top then and offers a bottle of something marked 'notbeer' to the nearest gobliny minion. He's got another open in his hand and appears to be enjoying the contents. It's a lovely organic drink, rich, flavorful, and totally lacking in alcohol.

But there are no scuffles. No quests seeking adventurers. He's not entirely sure what the causality behind all that is supposed to be, but he does know he's been watching for five whole minutes and not one ragtag group of unlikely heroes has bundled itself out the door with a shout.

Also no-one has asked him to do their garden yet, but that's probably a blessing.

The minion grabs the bottle and prises the lid off. It sniffs at the contents and then gives Rhinox a confused, indignant look. "Not beer!"

"Nemesis tends to frown on violence within her walls," says Blackout, amused. "And most of the beings here aren't the questing type, unless it be a quest for a few time units of peace from war."

She's about the only person she's ever seen hiring in here. And that but rarely because her minions and allies are adequate.

And then she's snorting laughter as Rhinox imperturbably agrees with the minion before having another long pull at his own bottle.

((ROTFL))

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Nexus. Black Dog. Drinks with the Overlord

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