[Hermes]

Ruffles through some drawers in the small refrigerator to the left. "Want an apple?"

[Lioshika]

I'm good thanks.

-Yawns softly and leans against the wall.- I am so sleepy.

[Hermes]

"Tired and hungry. Sounds like many people these days..."

[Lioshika]

I have to work tomorrow.
-Frowns.- At least it's only 11:30 to 5.

[Hermes]

"I wish I had a job. Consider yourself fortunate more than unfortunate."

[Lioshika]

I just hate my job.

[Hermes]

"Ah, well, my apologies."

[Lioshika]

It's okay. I started arguing back with customers.

[Hermes]

"That's no good." o.o

[Lioshika]

Not my fault they don't read the ad right.

[Angel Spirit Girl]

I would be glad to have a permanent job.

I only have a seasonal one now.

[Hermes]

Another day, and Hermes walks to his bar, singing again...
"Oh how do you do, young Willy McBride
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside
And rest for a while in the warm summer sun
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done
And I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen
When you joined the great fallen in 1916
Well I hope you died quick
And I hope you died clean
Or Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest"

He remembered the smell of the bloodstained grass during the Taskal War, remembered the excitement he had felt when channeling his Nature magic, remembered crushing a man's skull once while under an enchantment. His old self sickened him, and he couldn't believe he'd ever been such a monster.

"And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined
And though you died back in 1916
To that loyal heart you're forever nineteen
Or are you a stranger without even a name
Forever enshrined behind some old glass pane
In an old photograph torn, tattered, and stained
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest"

He remembered the man he had put through a ttorturous bone breaking, making him suffer in a bet with some comrades on who could keep a dying foe alive the longest. He remembered laughing at the man, even spitting on him, as he broke his arm under a boot. He remembered even his allies looking on him in sheer horror at what he was capable of. He remembered bloodlust, and roaring as he leapt onto the field with a hammer, smashing a woman's face into a crumpled, horrible visage. He remembered watching her continue to breathe for minutes, agonizing minutes, afterwards, until one of her comrades beheaded her out of mercy...

"The sun shining down on these green fields of France
The warm wind blows gently and the red poppies dance
The trenches have vanished long under the plow
No gas, no barbed wire, no guns firing now
But here in this graveyard that's still no mans land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man
And a whole generation were butchered and damned

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest"

He remembered shooting the man afterwards, and searching him for any more weapons. He pulled out the man's wallet, and saw pictures of him and the woman together. It appeared they had been married, and even had a child. He remembered a moment of sorrow at killing two parents, and then shrugging it off, and wondering if he might one day meet their child to tell him of how his parents were slain.

"And I can't help but wonder oh Willy McBride
Do all those who lie here know why they died
Did you really believe them when they told you the cause
Did you really believe that this war would end wars
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing and dying it was all done in vain
Oh Willy McBride it all happened again
And again, and again, and again, and again

Did they beat the drums slowly
Did they play the fife lowly
Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down
Did the band play the last post and chorus
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest"

He wondered what had convinced people so throughly back then that it was their gods-given right and duty to kill their fellow living beings like that, for nothing more than a matter of opinion, really. He remembered it also being called a Great War, and many thinking there would be no more conflicts like it afterwards, as they had seen what terrible wrath it can bring from whatever unknown force governs the universe. He remembered sitting at the end of the war, weeping for all those he had killed while he sat in a monastery. He remembered studying with the nomads, the druids, and the sages. He remembered thinking that nobody would ever allow this kind of bloodshed to happen again, that none could be so stupid.

And here it was, happening all over again. With a heavy sigh, he finished setting up the bar as he finished his song. He sat behind the counter, and shed but a few tears for old memories.

[Hermes]

Hermes strecthed from his spot laying on the bar. He smiled, and opened his eyes slightly, crossing his arms behind his head. He thought again of the Taskal War. He remembered the night he met his first comrade, he remembered the conversation he had with the man, how they got drunk that night and made a mess of things, and were made to clean them up the next day, despite their hangovers. That man was his best friend up until the day he was taken by the icy claws of death.

He remembered the first time he saw Taiye on a battlefield, how she had inspired him. He remembered fashioning something like her gunblade after that, though not truly functional as a gun anymore. He knew his would never be as good as hers, or even like it, but he was proud to hold it.

He remembered waking up in the hospice 3 weeks after his near-fatal encounter with Pontus, and seeing flowers, pictures, notes, cards, and memorabilia left by his comrades-in-arms. He remembered the news of Taiye's death, too, written in one of the notes.

He remembered waking to a new, different world, and being considered something of a relic already, despite his youth. He remembered wandering the streets, alone, until an old friend found him, covered in mud, laying in a back alley. He had taken him in, given him a shelter, and Hermes had risen from there.

He remembered the first business they opened together, and the friend staying there when Hermes expanded. It brought Hermes great joy to have supplied his friend with a good life, after he had done the same for him.

He remembered opening this shack of a bar, just to serve those who needed solace. Hell, there was a wounded woman sleeping in the back at this very moment, a Loyalist, and he would nary speak a word of it to any soul that came through. For all they knew, there -was no- "underneath" the bar.

He closed his eyes again, and hummed a tune from his childhood.

[Batty]

-Taps on the door lightly, calling out softly- Anyone here? I'm a bit .. parched.

[Lioshika]

-Tackles Batty.-
I'm here!

[Hermes]

Ah, hello folks. I was actually just getting ready to close up shop. My apologies. Here, take a drink for the road~ *hands a bottle of pomegranate juice to both*