Dinner with a Werewolf

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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

"I fear I would," agreed the Clank, apprehension and amusement fighting for dominance in his features. "I do have a Get out of Jail Free card, in this instance, however. Any old-fashioned spy is hard to beat when it comes to acting the part of someone who is well and truly soused. I would stagger and holler as much as needed for a while, suddenly profess the need to visit the sanitaries - and then quietly exit through the back door, only to call you and moan about how insufferable these business meetings with former historical Barbarians tend to be."

Being as cheeky as he seemed to be following their early morning hours spent together, he opted to let her see what had once allowed him to grudgingly work with the city's gangland-era Temperance Union. As today's undercover cops sometimes acted out the part of someone jonesing for a fix, he'd once had to act like a convincingly desperate drunkard in need of something else to wet his whistle. His eyelids grew heavy and his lower lip was curled outwards, something in his features suddenly looking morose and suggesting some sort of mental enfeeblement. He looked at his fork as if he didn't recognize the object and then tossed it aside.

One of his elbows loudly banged on the table, his hand pointing at her in a wavering motion, as if he had trouble taking aim. "I... I know you," he then stated, after a few mushy-sounding lip smacks. He'd pushed hard on the affected slurs, but then again he wasn't really trying to act the part of someone on a modern-day pub crawl. That was a chronic mechanical alcoholic in front of Crystal, or at least a very convincing depiction of one.

He shifted his accent to a fairly adequate Midwestern bent. "You one of them werewolf types, right? Fresh off the reservation? S'your eyes; color's kinda funny... You're one of these magical Redskin types, I'd bet good money on that... Lissen, you got any friends in the moonshine business, doll? Come on, help an old guy out, wouldja? Still goddamned thirsty 'fter six hours on the sauce; fuckin' Clank bullshit. They said I'd stop feelin' thirsty all the time with that new baseplate, yeah? Well, they lied! Fuckin' Clanksmen - I paid good money, too!"

Just as smoothly, he recomposed his natural self with a single pointed cough. "I used to call him the Pathetic Drunkard persona. The trick is to save all of my morning coats, even those with torn seams or unremovable stains. I haven't tossed away a single clothing item in two hundred years. Everything that breaks down or stops fitting becomes a potential costume item. Take off the vest and the armbands, let the shirt hang loose on one half, deliberately misplace your cravat for the day and switch to an old gibus that has more in common with a chimney top than an item of formalwear. and you're mostly set. Add a little creative pickpocketing, and a man finds a wealth of additional props available in the open."

He shrugged. "Past that, staggering or falling convincingly takes some practice. A sober mind's instincts is to protect the body during falls. A drunk mind has no such compunctions, or tries haphazardly. It usually requires that I sustain some voluntary amounts of minor structural damage - misplaced or shattered eyeballs, broken teeth, twisted or missing covers, et cetera..."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Crystal smirked. "Well, just save those for undercover work, Archie. I like my gentlemen friend just the way he is, especially without the racist talk," she said.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Archie gestured dismissively. "Oh, that's what Drunk Archie used to say while undercover. If I ever need to make a fool out of myself in public for the good of a mission, I will naturally ensure that my references are a bit more en vogue."

He then canted his head, smirking as well. "As for the racist remarks Drunk Archie landed - mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa," he said, putting a hand on his heart in a bit of a theatrical flourish. "Feel free to spend the rest of the day disparaging automatons in return, I shan't move a single eyebrow in retaliation."

The spy took another sip, followed by a bite, and raised a finger. "Here's a free Clank joke for you: What has gears, pistons, steam and follows the cross-country railways? Clank retirees moving to Florida."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Crystal snorted. "Terrible. There's no point in disparaging you or Clanks. I know political correctness can go overboard, but I care too much about you to say such things, even in a joking way," she admitted with fondness. "I might not be one for writing love poetry, but I certainly can show you how I feel with words."
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Archie smiled fondly. "I would welcome even the tackiest of all possible limericks with the reverence due to the bards of old, if they were to come from you."

A smirk passed over his features.

"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
This rhyming scheme is horrendous,
And I love you."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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A slow smile began on her face and then widened to big grin, while it mingled with growing laughter. Crystal responded, "Your rhyming scheme might be horrendous, but your Eggie Basket is delicious among other things." She then winked at him.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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Archie looked as though he could've blushed if he'd been able to. "It's nothing, really. I snooped around the servants' kitchens in my childhood residence and learned a few things. I had the staff for matters of survival and autonomy, my family for matters of protocol. Protocol, of course, never put food on my plate."

He chuckled softly. "The youngsters enjoy assuming that I've been raised with a silver spoon in my mouth or that High Tea is my personal religion. The fact is I spent long years growing used to the soldier and sailor's diet. Hardtack, beans, salted pork, green beans for color... If I had been born in their era, chances are I would've grown acquainted to their Pizza Pockets or pre-made sushi boxes... As to why I haven't raided our vending machines quite yet, it largely is because I now find myself having time enough to eat decently. No duffel bags to fill, no airships to catch - nothing except the comfortable margins of our set schedule. Not that I can promise turning into an exemplary cook, however."

He shrugged. "I don't understand Shamus' fixation on microwave strudels when we happen to be friends with Lucius Bromley. We have homemade flaky pastry and fresh cream on offer, and he prefers that horrid Pillsbury stuff," he explained, grimacing a bit.
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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The werewolf shrugged. "He prefers simple pastimes, so I would assume that applies to things like pastries." She then grinned. "So what would you do to surprise the kids?" she asked, folding her hands together as though she wanted to plot with him,
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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"Concerning us, or...?"

Something told him that was the case. Smirking, he stood up. "I may have something," he said, winking. "Of course, we would be a bit short on time and my oil reserves would be slightly impacted for this month, but the effect would be rather interesting... If you would follow me to the Observatory, I'll show you."
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Re: Dinner with a Werewolf

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"Heh, okay," Crystal agreed, wiping her mouth and following him to the observatory.
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