[ For the past hour or so, Bolin had been hunting down this griffon (humanely, and armed with only the tranquilizer gun, of course), yet little did he know that it had been the griffon that was hunting him all along. Really, he should've known better than to underestimate the creature, he knows very well how clever animals can be.
Especially an animal on the hunt for a mate.
The problem also stems from the fact that he really can't tell these griffons apart, and while he'd been tailing after one bird, he'd been completely unaware that the griffon he'd tried to shoot with a tranquilizer originally (he's never used a gun in his life), was actually out of his field of vision. In fact, even once the beast swooped down with a victorious wail, he couldn't see the griffon.
Because the little prankster had sunk it's claws into his shirt and dragged it halfway up to trap his head inside the fabric. ]
[ This isn't the most savoury part of Caissa, but that's not about to bother Bolin. He grew up in the unsavoury parts of Republic City after all, so really the sneering men and exceptionally tired shopkeepers, alongside the occasional whiff of garbage is kind of nostalgic. (Makes him miss his brother all the more, but that's manpain for another thread.)
Regardless of whether or not he's comfortable however, the fact is that they're here to work, and they've been standing around for nearly twenty minutes now trying to spot the guy that they're meant to interview. The description that they'd received wasn't all that enlightening either: a tall, bald man with scars on his hands and an impressive moustache.
Bolin squints a little, peering at the shops around them. There are way too many people that fit that description in this city. ]
This is the moment Allen questions some of his life choices.
Not for the first time, mind you. There's just something particularly humbling as you realize you have been tasked to essentially chaperone a bunch of hormonal birds that could take your head off at any moment should they so choose and make sure they Mostly Behave.
Which they aren't. At all.
Especially as one of the other heroes seems to be dancing around in a fit as one of them has pulled his shirt over his head (sigh, pranksters; Lavi must be having fun with this) and begun to haul him upwards. ]
...
[ —pulled his shirt over head head and begun to haul him... ]
Allen sprints but, by the time he's gotten to Bolin, only really has time to lunge—and grab ahold of the man's boot as the giant bird has already begun to gain some height with him. Also because he doesn't really have time to think this through. The problem?
Allen's very light. ]
Hold on!!
[ He'll—think of something!! Also watch where you're aiming that gun...! ]
[Lavi is relatively comfortable in this area himself. Even though he's still getting used to Caissa, there's the same patina on filth on the buildings, and some of the people, that he's seen so many times before in various places back home. Even the less than welcoming stares feel more familiar than overly threatening.
Those aren't his main concern right now, though. He scratches one cheek before shaking his head.]
Plenty of scars on hands an' everywhere else, and I've seen at least three mustaches that might be kinda noteworthy, but none that I'd call impressive. Are you sure this is the right place?
[ Allen's attempts at saving the young earthbender are certainly heroic, as the teenager has leaped in without any thought to his own safety and well-being. All for the cause of helping out a stranger! What a guy.
Except that Bolin has no appreciation for this because he can't see; his entire world is the dark inside of his shirt that he can't even slip out of now in order to allow himself some vision because that would involve
Falling. And he has no idea how far up they are. ]
What?! What's going on?
[ Should he struggle?! Why is he being grabbed from both ends?! ]
[ Bolin squints at the note in his hand at the question, where the location is described as meet me in front of The Swallower (it's a bar, in case yer too innocent to know HAHA), before looking back at the bar that they're standing in front of.
The Swallower. ]
Yeah, this is definitely the pl—
[ Right before two scarred hands clamp down on both the men's shoulders, a puff of alcohol-ridden breath blowing in their ears alongside a bellowing laugh.
"HEY KIDS, were you waiting long?" they hear.
And sure, Bolin thinks as he glances backwards, that is an impressive moustache. ]
[ Allen is a special breed of idiot like that. But then it seems he might be in good company when it comes to that.
Although the Exorcist might be realizing how... bad an idea this might have been though. Given his feet start to lift off the ground as well on the next heavy wingbeat. Um—shoot.
There's only one thing to do. ]
Lose your shirt!! [ Because he's going to redouble his grip on Bolin's boot and—kick out??! Twisting around to try and keep his toes on the ground?!
—or, you know, there could be a loud and ominous ripping sound when he does that too. ]
[ What?? Why is some stranger telling him to strip in the middle of the street. (They are somewhere on a street, right? Bolin wishes that he'd been paying a bit more attention before he'd been attacked.) He doesn't follow through however, because he's gotten so tangled in the fabric and he doesn't even know how to take it off anymore and.
And the thing is that his gun is pointing straight up, where his arms have been pulled straight by the fabric of his shirt, and when he tries to move them, the nozzle of that gun swings and hits the griffon in the side.
The bird, understandably, does not appreciate this treatment, and with a shriek the creature twists, its talons more menacing and its movements more violent until Bolin's shirt finally surrenders and just tears. ]
Whoa—oof!
[ Sending both the men now tumbling back to the ground. ]
[He's not a necessarily jumpy person per se, but years of ingrained paranoia about everyone around him has Lavi automatically reaching to his thigh for a weapon that isn't there. He shifts the motion into an uncomfortable shrug, hoping the man will think he was just about to leap out of his skin instead. Which, to be fair, he might have been.]
No-- [How did this man even talk, wearing at least three waxed hairbrushes masquerading as a mustache on his face?] No, not at all. We were just talkin' about what a charming neighborhood this is, actually.
[They might have been, nobody can prove they weren't.]
You know, this sounds about right. Considering the entire sad state of affairs of Allen's life in general. Especially because since it means he's being dropped a bit as well and since he's more distracted by Bolin and the griffon that means he doesn't really get his footing under himself in time.
And god Bolin. You're solid. And might, once you've become aware of your surroundings, hear a faint groan from beneath you from the rather bony slim exorcist. ]
...oi. [ It might sound just a tiny bit sour... purely because breathing is a little hard right now and makes him sound more terse than he actually is. It's nothing personal.
Allen heaves a wheeze despite the protests of his ribs. ]
[ Bolin shoots Lavi a look that clearly says THAT'S A LIE, but otherwise doesn't say anything. Somehow, he doubts that the man would've even cared if they'd been honest with him: that sure is the smell of alcohol strong in his breath.
Regardless, he pushes forward. ]
Uh yeah, that's exactly it. Anyway, we're glad that you agreed to let us talk to you about Gammon.
[ Or whatever. The man just laughs behind the monster that is his moustache and drags them into the bar. ]
[ This has been a rollercoaster of events. Bolin has no idea what - or rather, who - is underneath them, but they are skinny, and there sure is a bony knee jabbing right into his thigh. With a sigh and a grimace, the earthbender pushes himself up, his right arm scraped against the pavement and bleeding slightly, but otherwise unharmed.
Unlike the pale haired boy underneath him. ]
Whoa!
[ Two caterpillar-like eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he pushes himself to the side quickly, eyes wide and looking alarmed. ]
[Bolin can shoot all the looks he wants, because Lavi is an expert at ignoring those kinds of glances, and he's too focused on making sure he isn't pulled in too closely to Mr. Mustache and his unique bottom-of-the-tankard aroma.
The bar looks-- and smells, almost exactly how he expected a place with such a creative title to look. Seedy, and dark, with just the right combination of questionable patrons and the ambiance of a place that long ago gave up pretending to have any pretense of even pretending to be clean. So, it's like most bars he's seen at home.
Mr. Mustache clearly knows his way around, too, and steering them along doesn't seem to be presenting him with any problems, despite the state he's in.]
[ It sure is, and Bolin tries not to make a face at the smell of alcohol around them so early in the day. But the man they're interviewing seems friendly enough, a wide smile on his face despite the two warm hands that he's got on both their shoulders.
They sit down, and some of the other patrons grin and watch the Heroes with interest, probably thinking it novel to see upstanding citizens in such a downtrodden little bar. No one seems hostile however, so Bolin isn't going to complain.
Before either of them can ask any questions however, Mr. Mustache bursts out with a, "IF YOU WANNA know about Gammon, you needta know about its women first—" (He cuts himself off to order them all a round of beer.)
[Lavi's a little bit charmed by this subject and their help, actually. Mr. Mustache might be a drunk, but he's a friendly one, and even if it's far too early in the day for beer, he's chuckling quietly to himself.
Women were part of Gammon's culture, after all, and since they've been tasked with learning about it, why not start with them? The information probably won't be entirely useful, but at least nobody will be able to say that it's boring.
He sets his elbows on the table, resting his head on one hand.]
What, you don't think women're a great place to start? [He grins, making a soothing gesture with one hand.] This here's what you call a foundation for learning.
[Mr. Mustache certainly seems to think so-- he roars with approval and slaps a hand on the table, making Lavi jump.] Besides, we gotta start somewhere, right?
[ It's not like they came in here with any kind of plan. And Bolin doesn't mind talking about women—he likes girls, and he could probably say a lot on the topic. (Though somehow, he's not sure they're going to be gossiping about what type of girls they like.)
When their beers come around, Mr. Moustache comes to come - even more so than he already has - and the large man rears up, laughing a little before he sighs, and starts on his tale about how the women in Gammon are among the strongest in the world, and how it makes for incredible childbearing.
Apparently Bolin had been wrong, and they are going to talk about the kind of women they like, or at least Mr. Moustache is, and he likes women with childbearing hips and breasts made for feeding.
It gets the earthbender's eyes to go a little wide, though he leans in out of interest. ]
[The beer tastes like it may have been brewed and poured directly from an old pair of boots, but that's a tiny price to pay for the kind of specifics Mr. Mustache is delving into.
He's on board for a hilariously detailed speech anyway, and it almost starts out normal, but he grins wider and wider at how much thought has gone into exactly how important it is that a woman be set up just so to produce the best, and largest amount, of children.
Lavi can only make small noises of agreement as the man goes on, because it would be a shame to interrupt him at this point. Still, he does nudge Bolin with his foot, almost muttering so as not to cut off the story.]
Can you imagine if we actually did talk about this ourselves? No woman would ever talk to us ever again.
[ It does seem like he's listening to an alien speak, though it's still pretty fascinating since Bolin has never met anyone that thinks these things, and he takes a sip of his own beer.
[Smooth, Bolin. It's difficult not laugh out loud at his face when he tries the beer, but Lavi manages somehow. Though, he lifts his head up enough that he can rub his cheek where he was slapped by the angry woman on his first night her, eye widening in remembrance. Terrible.]
Definitely can't have that happen. [He turns his full attention back to Mr. Mustache, who is extolling the virtues of strong calves and wide feet and how they help with child rearing.]
[ Bolin would also prefer a future with all of his reproductive organs functioning and healthy, he doesn't really get a chance to speak about this however, when Mr. Moustache, apparently having realised something, slams his hand hard on the table.
(It spills Bolin's beer a little bit, but he doesn't really mind.)
The change of topic that their Gammonian friend is angling for is apparently asking the two of them if they "have women".
Bolin's expression becomes vaguely uncomfortable. This isn't exactly a straightforward question for him. ]
Not... really.
[ He answers quickly before handing the stage over to Lavi. ]
[This poor table. Lavi sits up straight, then leans back, because he isn't sure the table won't just give up at this point. He blinks at being questioned about his own so called love life, though he's sure if he ever even thought about referring to any of the women he knew as something to be had be'd be singing falsetto before he knew it.
It's a fair enough question, though, considering the topic. He's a lot more cheerful about it, though, and he shrugs and grins, making a definitive "no" gesture.]
Nope! Not even close to havin' anybody. [Which is far less of a bummer for him, actually, since he was never going to settle down with anyone anyway.]] S'plenty of cute ones walking around to admire, though.
[ Because Bolin is a gossip in his own right, the earthbender looks over at the redhead curiously. Lavi certainly seems confident enough around women that Bolin could see him being popular.
Mr. Moustache seems to have the same belief, starting to go on about how it's not a good idea for young men like themselves to settle down too quickly. Once they're married, that's the death knell, and they need to enjoy as many women as they can before that.
Sure. ]
He makes it sound like getting dates is as easy as ordering a beer.
[He's aware that it was probably an odd thing to say, and his habit of admiring any beautiful woman he sees isn't exactly a secret to anyone that really knows him, but Lavi gives an easy shrug at Bolin's look.
He does glance back at Mr. Moustache's latest bit of advice, though. He's certainly not going to be able to forget some of the more colorful mentions of how wonderful it is to sow your wild oats in as many "lush fields" as possible, and he already regrets the unfortunate mental images being painted. He lets out an amused huff at Bolin's comment.]
Must be the mustache, yeah? S'gotta be somethin' about it.
[He's... never put too much thought into the mustache-to-hookup ratio of other people. Is that even a thing? He can't grow any real facial hair to speak of himself, but it's still not an experiment he'd be especially willing to take part in.
He just manages to contain a snort, taking a sip of boot-flavored beer instead.]
Girls like all sortsa guys... but you mean a mustache is like settin' out the right kinda bait to catch the right kinda action?
1/2 tags lost in the great notif apocalypse of 2k16 pt 32434782 /cries
Somehow... [ Excuse him, Bolin, as he sits up and rubs his head a little. It's fine! He just hit his head after all. It's not like he hasn't done that a million times before. ]
Don't you think so? [ Bolin sets an arm on the table as he leans in toward Lavi, expression utterly serious.
It might even seem as though he's imbibed a bit too much alcohol given the gusto with which he's approaching the topic, but he hasn't given the beer that much attention yet. This is just something that he dearly believes. ]
Because, it's like the sign of a man who's rugged and mature.
[ Bolin gives himself a once over, a little dismayed by his current state of undress. He's not really comfortable walking around the city shirtless, and rubs his face at the idea. ]
I'm okay, I've just got a couple of scratches. [ Over his shoulders when the griffon had first swooped down, there's also a pretty scrape up the side of his arm, but he's not really concerned.
Instead, he fixes a determined stare to the sky. ]
[ Bolin is hardly convinced, and he draws back, sipping his beer, making a face, and then sipping the beer again. ]
That's easy for you to say, you've got the eyepatch. [ He gestures to Lavi's face, as if the redhead is unaware. ] That gives you all the mystery and danger you need.
[ Mr. Moustche - stopping his speech briefly, and apparently completely unbothered that the two are having a discussion while he talks - pitches in here to add his agreement. ]
[Bolin, no. Most people are too polite to mention his eyepatch, because they probably assume he has it due to either injury or illness, but actually having someone mention it outright is rare.
He shrugs uncomfortably, eyes flicking down to the table for a moment before he smiles and waves a dismissive hand at the both of them.]
S'not really a fashion accessory, y'know? I think maybe we're puttin' too much thought into gimmicks, here.
[ Bolin is definitely not too polite to ask invasive questions like that Lavi, you shouldn't expect too much from him. But he is flighty enough not to pursue the topic needlessly; he'll mention the eyepatch, but he's not going to ask how Lavi ended up with it.
He couldn't really ask even if he planned to though, and Mr. Moustache lets out a laugh before thumping them both on the shoulder, urging them to drink more.
And more.
Bolin grimaces, looks like their informant is hoping they'll join him in his inebriation. ]
I guess that's true, I'm not interested in a hoard of women anyway.
[Mr. Mustache is a bad influence, really, but Lavi takes another very small sip of his beer anyway. Despite being urged to, he's had enough that he knows he shouldn't get too enthusastic with drinking, especially not in an unfamilar part of the city.]
A hoard of women sounds like too much trouble-- you'd just end up sufferin' more than anything, probably. Women.
[That just sets Mr. Mustache off onto a tangent about the time he wound up with a hoard of women-- not the right kind, not with the proper hips, of course, but wilder than bar full of drunks after a winning foccer match, including one who could bend--] So! Anybody else feel like we're just learnin' way too much about a little bit of everything?
[He elbows Bolin.] There's gotta be more to life than women and mustaches, right? No offense, of course.
[ Bolin doesn't think he could've downed the beer even if he wanted to. Regardless, he also has his reservations about getting too drunk—not because of the location or the company, but because there's something a little sad about getting drunk in the middle of the day.
He's got things to do. ]
What? Oh, yeah. [ For his earlier dubiousness about chatting all about women, Bolin had actually been listening rather intently. It's not that he's innocent, it's just that the word "bend" has other connotations for him.
But they are actually here to work. ]
Yeah, women... so? I guess families are important to Gammon? What do families normally do for fun together?
[ He'd just been shooting questions out at random, but now he actually perks up because hey!! That's really interesting!! He's just one orphan among the sea, and he's got a great curiosity about what normal families do. ]
Yeah, what do families do to have a good time? [He's got Ideas, he's seen families playing games or singing or doing all manner of things that they seem to enjoy. Given how interesting Mr. Mustache is and his wild ideas about women alone, he imagines that families in Gammon must be a little bit strange.]
Work on their hair waxin'? Come up with secret beer recipes? Try 'n fry the best fish?
[He genuinely wants to know, despite the way he's asking. They're on a totally different world, after all, and for all he knows they really do do things he wouldn't even be able to imagine.]
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allen
[ For the past hour or so, Bolin had been hunting down this griffon (humanely, and armed with only the tranquilizer gun, of course), yet little did he know that it had been the griffon that was hunting him all along. Really, he should've known better than to underestimate the creature, he knows very well how clever animals can be.
Especially an animal on the hunt for a mate.
The problem also stems from the fact that he really can't tell these griffons apart, and while he'd been tailing after one bird, he'd been completely unaware that the griffon he'd tried to shoot with a tranquilizer originally (he's never used a gun in his life), was actually out of his field of vision. In fact, even once the beast swooped down with a victorious wail, he couldn't see the griffon.
Because the little prankster had sunk it's claws into his shirt and dragged it halfway up to trap his head inside the fabric. ]
Hey! Whoa!
[ Maniacal man stumbles wildly unable to see! ]
lavi
[ This isn't the most savoury part of Caissa, but that's not about to bother Bolin. He grew up in the unsavoury parts of Republic City after all, so really the sneering men and exceptionally tired shopkeepers, alongside the occasional whiff of garbage is kind of nostalgic. (Makes him miss his brother all the more, but that's manpain for another thread.)
Regardless of whether or not he's comfortable however, the fact is that they're here to work, and they've been standing around for nearly twenty minutes now trying to spot the guy that they're meant to interview. The description that they'd received wasn't all that enlightening either: a tall, bald man with scars on his hands and an impressive moustache.
Bolin squints a little, peering at the shops around them. There are way too many people that fit that description in this city. ]
1/2 oh bolin
This is the moment Allen questions some of his life choices.
Not for the first time, mind you. There's just something particularly humbling as you realize you have been tasked to essentially chaperone a bunch of hormonal birds that could take your head off at any moment should they so choose and make sure they Mostly Behave.
Which they aren't. At all.
Especially as one of the other heroes seems to be dancing around in a fit as one of them has pulled his shirt over his head (sigh, pranksters; Lavi must be having fun with this) and begun to haul him upwards. ]
...
[ —pulled his shirt over head head and begun to haul him... ]
2/2
Allen sprints but, by the time he's gotten to Bolin, only really has time to lunge—and grab ahold of the man's boot as the giant bird has already begun to gain some height with him. Also because he doesn't really have time to think this through. The problem?
Allen's very light. ]
Hold on!!
[ He'll—think of something!!
Also watch where you're aiming that gun...!]no subject
Those aren't his main concern right now, though. He scratches one cheek before shaking his head.]
Plenty of scars on hands an' everywhere else, and I've seen at least three mustaches that might be kinda noteworthy, but none that I'd call impressive. Are you sure this is the right place?
help
Except that Bolin has no appreciation for this because he can't see; his entire world is the dark inside of his shirt that he can't even slip out of now in order to allow himself some vision because that would involve
Falling. And he has no idea how far up they are. ]
What?! What's going on?
[ Should he struggle?! Why is he being grabbed from both ends?! ]
no subject
The Swallower. ]
Yeah, this is definitely the pl—
[ Right before two scarred hands clamp down on both the men's shoulders, a puff of alcohol-ridden breath blowing in their ears alongside a bellowing laugh.
"HEY KIDS, were you waiting long?" they hear.
And sure, Bolin thinks as he glances backwards, that is an impressive moustache. ]
no subject
Although the Exorcist might be realizing how... bad an idea this might have been though. Given his feet start to lift off the ground as well on the next heavy wingbeat. Um—shoot.
There's only one thing to do. ]
Lose your shirt!! [ Because he's going to redouble his grip on Bolin's boot and—kick out??! Twisting around to try and keep his toes on the ground?!
—or, you know, there could be a loud and ominous ripping sound when he does that too. ]
no subject
[ What?? Why is some stranger telling him to strip in the middle of the street. (They are somewhere on a street, right? Bolin wishes that he'd been paying a bit more attention before he'd been attacked.) He doesn't follow through however, because he's gotten so tangled in the fabric and he doesn't even know how to take it off anymore and.
And the thing is that his gun is pointing straight up, where his arms have been pulled straight by the fabric of his shirt, and when he tries to move them, the nozzle of that gun swings and hits the griffon in the side.
The bird, understandably, does not appreciate this treatment, and with a shriek the creature twists, its talons more menacing and its movements more violent until Bolin's shirt finally surrenders and just tears. ]
Whoa—oof!
[ Sending both the men now tumbling back to the ground. ]
no subject
No-- [How did this man even talk, wearing at least three waxed hairbrushes masquerading as a mustache on his face?] No, not at all. We were just talkin' about what a charming neighborhood this is, actually.
[They might have been, nobody can prove they weren't.]
1/2
Is there really.
Well his life has certainly been filled with far stranger (and worse). But still. Fuuuuuuuu— ]
2/2
You know, this sounds about right. Considering the entire sad state of affairs of Allen's life in general. Especially because since it means he's being dropped a bit as well and since he's more distracted by Bolin and the griffon that means he doesn't really get his footing under himself in time.
And god Bolin. You're solid. And might, once you've become aware of your surroundings, hear a faint groan from beneath you from the rather bony slim exorcist. ]
...oi. [ It might sound just a tiny bit sour... purely because breathing is a little hard right now and makes him sound more terse than he actually is. It's nothing personal.
Allen heaves a wheeze despite the protests of his ribs. ]
Are you... haah—okay?
no subject
Regardless, he pushes forward. ]
Uh yeah, that's exactly it. Anyway, we're glad that you agreed to let us talk to you about Gammon.
[ Or whatever. The man just laughs behind the monster that is his moustache and drags them into the bar. ]
no subject
Unlike the pale haired boy underneath him. ]
Whoa!
[ Two caterpillar-like eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he pushes himself to the side quickly, eyes wide and looking alarmed. ]
Oh my god, are you okay?
no subject
The bar looks-- and smells, almost exactly how he expected a place with such a creative title to look. Seedy, and dark, with just the right combination of questionable patrons and the ambiance of a place that long ago gave up pretending to have any pretense of even pretending to be clean. So, it's like most bars he's seen at home.
Mr. Mustache clearly knows his way around, too, and steering them along doesn't seem to be presenting him with any problems, despite the state he's in.]
Soooo... this seems homey.
no subject
They sit down, and some of the other patrons grin and watch the Heroes with interest, probably thinking it novel to see upstanding citizens in such a downtrodden little bar. No one seems hostile however, so Bolin isn't going to complain.
Before either of them can ask any questions however, Mr. Mustache bursts out with a, "IF YOU WANNA know about Gammon, you needta know about its women first—" (He cuts himself off to order them all a round of beer.)
Meanwhile Bolin just looks over at Lavi. ]
Are we going to talk about women for the display?
[ ??? ]
no subject
Women were part of Gammon's culture, after all, and since they've been tasked with learning about it, why not start with them? The information probably won't be entirely useful, but at least nobody will be able to say that it's boring.
He sets his elbows on the table, resting his head on one hand.]
What, you don't think women're a great place to start? [He grins, making a soothing gesture with one hand.] This here's what you call a foundation for learning.
[Mr. Mustache certainly seems to think so-- he roars with approval and slaps a hand on the table, making Lavi jump.] Besides, we gotta start somewhere, right?
no subject
[ It's not like they came in here with any kind of plan. And Bolin doesn't mind talking about women—he likes girls, and he could probably say a lot on the topic. (Though somehow, he's not sure they're going to be gossiping about what type of girls they like.)
When their beers come around, Mr. Moustache comes to come - even more so than he already has - and the large man rears up, laughing a little before he sighs, and starts on his tale about how the women in Gammon are among the strongest in the world, and how it makes for incredible childbearing.
Apparently Bolin had been wrong, and they are going to talk about the kind of women they like, or at least Mr. Moustache is, and he likes women with childbearing hips and breasts made for feeding.
It gets the earthbender's eyes to go a little wide, though he leans in out of interest. ]
no subject
He's on board for a hilariously detailed speech anyway, and it almost starts out normal, but he grins wider and wider at how much thought has gone into exactly how important it is that a woman be set up just so to produce the best, and largest amount, of children.
Lavi can only make small noises of agreement as the man goes on, because it would be a shame to interrupt him at this point. Still, he does nudge Bolin with his foot, almost muttering so as not to cut off the story.]
Can you imagine if we actually did talk about this ourselves? No woman would ever talk to us ever again.
1/2
And then.
Very gallantly tries not to spit it back out. ]
no subject
Nah, they'd talk to us. Or I guess, it'd be more like scream at us while kicking us between the legs.
no subject
Definitely can't have that happen. [He turns his full attention back to Mr. Mustache, who is extolling the virtues of strong calves and wide feet and how they help with child rearing.]
That's not the kinda future I wanna have.
no subject
(It spills Bolin's beer a little bit, but he doesn't really mind.)
The change of topic that their Gammonian friend is angling for is apparently asking the two of them if they "have women".
Bolin's expression becomes vaguely uncomfortable. This isn't exactly a straightforward question for him. ]
Not... really.
[ He answers quickly before handing the stage over to Lavi. ]
no subject
It's a fair enough question, though, considering the topic. He's a lot more cheerful about it, though, and he shrugs and grins, making a definitive "no" gesture.]
Nope! Not even close to havin' anybody. [Which is far less of a bummer for him, actually, since he was never going to settle down with anyone anyway.]] S'plenty of cute ones walking around to admire, though.
no subject
Mr. Moustache seems to have the same belief, starting to go on about how it's not a good idea for young men like themselves to settle down too quickly. Once they're married, that's the death knell, and they need to enjoy as many women as they can before that.
Sure. ]
He makes it sound like getting dates is as easy as ordering a beer.
[ Which Bolin can attest is just not true. ]
no subject
He does glance back at Mr. Moustache's latest bit of advice, though. He's certainly not going to be able to forget some of the more colorful mentions of how wonderful it is to sow your wild oats in as many "lush fields" as possible, and he already regrets the unfortunate mental images being painted. He lets out an amused huff at Bolin's comment.]
Must be the mustache, yeah? S'gotta be somethin' about it.
no subject
[ And Bolin's reply is completely genuine, because moustaches are the best and it's a source of constant internal grief that he can't grow his own.
He sighs. ]
Girls probably like rugged guys, right? I mean, personality is important too but if you're just looking to hook up, I bet a moustache helps.
[ Just take this tag, Jo. Just take it. ]
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He just manages to contain a snort, taking a sip of boot-flavored beer instead.]
Girls like all sortsa guys... but you mean a mustache is like settin' out the right kinda bait to catch the right kinda action?
1/2 tags lost in the great notif apocalypse of 2k16 pt 32434782 /cries
--no, Allen, those aren't words... ]
Somehow... [ Excuse him, Bolin, as he sits up and rubs his head a little. It's fine! He just hit his head after all. It's not like he hasn't done that a million times before. ]
2/2
Are-- [ Oh, Bolin's (lack of a) shirt. A victim of collateral damage.
Yeah, the question still stands. Carrying on. ] --you?
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It might even seem as though he's imbibed a bit too much alcohol given the gusto with which he's approaching the topic, but he hasn't given the beer that much attention yet. This is just something that he dearly believes. ]
Because, it's like the sign of a man who's rugged and mature.
[ Or maybe just hit puberty, who knows. ]
many lives were lost
[ Bolin gives himself a once over, a little dismayed by his current state of undress. He's not really comfortable walking around the city shirtless, and rubs his face at the idea. ]
I'm okay, I've just got a couple of scratches. [ Over his shoulders when the griffon had first swooped down, there's also a pretty scrape up the side of his arm, but he's not really concerned.
Instead, he fixes a determined stare to the sky. ]
I'm going to get my shirt back.
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He can't decide if Bolin being so earnest makes this better or worse, so he just sighs in amusement.]
I dunno, I think you can be rugged and mature without all the-- [he makes a vague... mustache-y gesture at his own face.] extras.
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That's easy for you to say, you've got the eyepatch. [ He gestures to Lavi's face, as if the redhead is unaware. ] That gives you all the mystery and danger you need.
[ Mr. Moustche - stopping his speech briefly, and apparently completely unbothered that the two are having a discussion while he talks - pitches in here to add his agreement. ]
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He shrugs uncomfortably, eyes flicking down to the table for a moment before he smiles and waves a dismissive hand at the both of them.]
S'not really a fashion accessory, y'know? I think maybe we're puttin' too much thought into gimmicks, here.
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He couldn't really ask even if he planned to though, and Mr. Moustache lets out a laugh before thumping them both on the shoulder, urging them to drink more.
And more.
Bolin grimaces, looks like their informant is hoping they'll join him in his inebriation. ]
I guess that's true, I'm not interested in a hoard of women anyway.
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A hoard of women sounds like too much trouble-- you'd just end up sufferin' more than anything, probably. Women.
[That just sets Mr. Mustache off onto a tangent about the time he wound up with a hoard of women-- not the right kind, not with the proper hips, of course, but wilder than bar full of drunks after a winning foccer match, including one who could bend--] So! Anybody else feel like we're just learnin' way too much about a little bit of everything?
[He elbows Bolin.] There's gotta be more to life than women and mustaches, right? No offense, of course.
[Be cool, Mr. Mustache.]
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He's got things to do. ]
What? Oh, yeah. [ For his earlier dubiousness about chatting all about women, Bolin had actually been listening rather intently. It's not that he's innocent, it's just that the word "bend" has other connotations for him.
But they are actually here to work. ]
Yeah, women... so? I guess families are important to Gammon? What do families normally do for fun together?
[ He'd just been shooting questions out at random, but now he actually perks up because hey!! That's really interesting!! He's just one orphan among the sea, and he's got a great curiosity about what normal families do. ]
I didn't miss this tag what are you talking about
Work on their hair waxin'? Come up with secret beer recipes? Try 'n fry the best fish?
[He genuinely wants to know, despite the way he's asking. They're on a totally different world, after all, and for all he knows they really do do things he wouldn't even be able to imagine.]