[Quiet Man Cometh]

"I'll tell Andrew to start a tab."

[Gallagher]

"What, you don't already have one going? I'm a bit disappointed."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"What, you don't want your own?" He smirks at Gambooge. "I throw out the odd unruly customer and Andrew takes care of the rest, so I don't really think about it much."

He glances up at the cupboards.

"Alternatively, we can always see what's around here. We can replace it, though technically she does owe me a bottle...just leave enough for breakfast."

[Gallagher]

"My own implies it would be my responsibility to make sure it gets paid off, which entirely defeats the purpose of you paying. You're not getting out of it that easily. I'll think about knocking one off if you find one of her good bottles, but that's as generous as I get."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Pardon my choice of words. I don't actually have one but I'll see to it. And don't ask me. Travel around enough and you learn to tolerate just about anything. As long as it goes down all right I don't particularly care."

[Gallagher]

"Uh... right." Shaking his head, he hopped off the table. "I think you might be confusing normal experiences with your own bad tastes."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Sit down to a ritual pre-hunt drink with a tribe of jungle Hylek and then tell me what you think. I still have no clue what was in it, since most of the plant life was either toxic, vicious, or both."

While Gambooge checks the cupboards, Syrgei gets up and begins to tweak his armour, putting his boots back on but without the metal plating. He removes some of the heavier pieces from his coat, leaving enough to still be useful should the night turn violent.

"Anything look good?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Still blissfully asleep, Tsae snuggles with her full-size penguin buddy-pillow, oblivious to the world around her. "Mmmmmm," she murmurs dreamily, "Don't you worry Mister Snufflebeak, you're still the only man I need in my life. All class, and no sass. They can be as jealous as they want." She rolls over, bringing him with her, and lulls deeper into slumber.

[Gallagher]

Yes. There were, in fact, more than a few bottles that qualified as 'good'. 'Good', however, turned out not to be in the elementalist's tastes. Syrgei didn't seem to have nearly as many concerns as he did.

That might have been related to his little Hylek story, but honestly, Gambooge didn't care. Shit was shit. Even expensive shit.

Even worse than drinking shit was having absolutely nothing to do with his time. Keeping tabs on his golem was fine, but that took very little attention whatsoever. It didn't take more than a couple hours for him to take claim of the chair for extremely important napping purposes. It was the only option for sleep, really. Who could nap on a stool?

Syrgei, probably.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

The abandoned stool remained such for most of the evening, Syrgei either sitting on the floor or napping, also on the floor, with one or both arms behind his head apparently making for an adequate pillow.

Every thirty-seven minutes, Gambooge had said. At least the night-air would keep him awake. He could go without sleep if he had to, but it was easier when there was something else to do besides sit and wait.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Indulging in a final, luxuriating yawn-and-stretch, Tsae finally decides it's time to wake up, sitting up in bed to notice that it's pitch dark outside. And inside. Nothing like starting the day in the middle of the night.

She snaps for a few ether-lights, sending them floating to the corners of her bedroom and casting it in pale lilac just enough to see by. Feeling uncharacteristically energized, Tsaerri rolls out of bed --

"Oof!"

only to tumble to the floor rolled up with her forgotten penguin. She extricates herself from the clingy bird, her eyes narrowing at his head nestled between her legs.

"I thought you were a gentleman, Mister Snufflebeak."

She sighs, rubbing her eyes. "What the hell am I doing?"

She isn't quite sure what's going to happen today, but lazing around the house seems unlikely, so she gathers up her gear -- still stylish and in her colors, but fully-covering and magically armored -- and starts to get herself ready.

A proper shower is in order after all that sleeping, and she exits into the main area of her house having almost forgotten about her guests, whom she finds outrageously slumped over her furniture and begging for sore backs when they wake up. She notices also that her liquor cabinet has been rummaged through, though no evidence of the culprit seems to be at hand. She briefly entertains the notion of any number of pranks she could pull on them right now, vulnerable as they are, before soberly deciding that she isn't allowed any semblance of fun in her life until this is over.

She leaves them a light on the table and heads off to the bathroom with her bundle of equipment. Mister Snufflebeak remains on the floor of her bedroom, contemplating his shame.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Stirring slightly, Syrgei opens his eyes and thinks for a moment where he knows this particular ceiling from. A moment or two thought, and a jarring complaint from his back and he sits up, stretching and rubbing the stiffness out of his muscles as much as he can while still wearing his coat.

Not exactly morning...

Not entirely certain what woke him up, Syrgei sits for a moment, deciding whether or not it's worth going back to sleep.

His pony-tail hanging loose and to one side, he pulls out the cord and tucks it into his coat. Bringing up one knee to rest his arm and head one he starts to nod off again.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Stepping out from the shower, now fully dressed, the heels of her boots clonking on the floor, Tsae snaps for one of her swords and steps over to where Syrgei is imposing himself on her floor. She bonks him on the head with it.

"Hey, wake up! You need to spar with me!" Steel toes prod his ribs.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Syrgei mutters but doesn't lift his head. "Is that how you wake everyone up?"

He uncurls enough to stand and stretches himself out again. "What this about sparring?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Tsae's eyes narrow at his seeming lack of interest. "I need to practice fighting for when that assassin shows back up," she tells him. "No magic on my end, since she can counter everything I do. I just need to get better. And let's be honest, Gamby wouldn't last five seconds against me."

She bonks him again. "And I have the perfect practice weapons, see?" Bonk-bonk-bonk. "They only hurt as much as I want them to." She might have them currently set at slightly higher than "playful slap". Syrgei seems like he could use some motivation.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Ah. Okay." He combs his hair back over his shoulders and ties it off in a mostly centered pony-tail. "You seem eager to start. I guess breakfast can wait." Appearing much more awake, he leaves the heavier pieces of his armour where they are and adjusts the leather of his coat more comfortably after sleeping in it most of the night. "Where do you want to start?"