fong - verb; to fong, the act of... [OPEN]

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Chaucer had a perhaps excusable fondness for taverns. He'd certainly spent enough time in them to either loathe the places or love them, and Geoffrey rarely found it within himself to loathe anything that was willing to provide him with food and company.

And a tavern, unlike so many things on this strange journey, echoed vaguely of home. He'd even found some dice somewhere.

Rattling them idly in one hand, an itch he wasn't quite allowed to scratch, the writer and herald sat neatly cross-legged on a table, chin in hand, elbow on knee, kilt neatly smoothed around him to avoid unwanted eyefuls. His dice-filled hand moved, clacking and jangling, as he finished up a story to whatever audience would listen.

It was a story of chivalry, of passion, of dedication, a slice of stupidity, and an overpowering need for a full stomach and well-delivered fonging. It was the story of Wat.

Delivered in fond mockery, it ended thus; "Not every wise man can expect to be a good man, and few good men can expect to be wise. The ones, however, who can grasp at life with both hands, breath deeply of it, and declare that it could use more salt are something to be marveled upon. Perhaps not revered or praised, but certainly watched very carefully."

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[comedownthisroad]

Tay should probably be cleaning or something, not hanging out in a pub and lazing about, but even with her endurance she is seriously worn out from basic training with the Rogues and cleaning her new home with Cas and Dean and Sam. And, while she doesn't really realise it, she still hasn't quite emotionally recovered from finding herself here.

So she's sitting in a chair with her feet up on the table in front of her, drinking a mug of cider, or something like it. Non-alcoholic, of course, since she's only sixteen.

She was surprisingly amused by Chaucer's story, though there were times when she wasn't entirely sure what the crazy writer was on about. Big words are not Tay's friends. So she applauds, briefly, when he finishes. That's what you do, right?

[governorkang]

The story was quite interesting. Kang understood far more of it than the girl; if the drinks weren't already on the house due to the lack of an actual economy on the ship, he would have given the man a free refill for the entertainment.

And speaking of refills, he hadn't checked on Tay in a while. "Doing alright, ma'am?"

[comedownthisroad]

Tay jumps a little, without meaning to - she's still having to remind herself that "sort of monster-like" does not equate to "behemoth demon, kill it now" in this place. It's not always easy. She flashes a bit of a nervous smile and nods, though.

"Uh, yeah, guess so. You can, uh, just call me Tay, though. I'm not a 'ma'am' type'a person."

[governorkang]

"Tay, then. I haven't seen you around the ship. Are you one of the new people?" Kang asked, curious. She looked human, but she didn't smell it, and as long as he'd been on the ship, he knew better than to assume anything about anybody. He was used to the nervous reactions, too, and wasn't offended.

"And, in case it wasn't mentioned before, if you want alcohol, you can have it. We don't ask age here, and you look old enough."

meep, sorry, RL ate my brinz.

[comedownthisroad]

"Yeah, I'm pretty new." Tay finished off her cider, and started to say something... when she processed the second thing that Kang said.

"Wait. You mean... Actual, real, you're not faking me out to keep me from pitching a fit alcohol?" She gapes at him for a moment, and then laughs. "Wow. I'm really not in Kansas anymore."

Interestingly (and apropos of nothing), Tay has never actually seen The Wizard of Oz, but she's heard the phrase used often enough to know the context.

She considers her options for a moment before shaking her head regretfully. "Maybe another night. I've got training with the Rogues in the morning, and I'm still trying to make a good impression. Don't want to come in hung over or anything." When angels drink, where she's from, the really put some effort into it.

Is fine <3

[governorkang]

"When it comes to alcohol, I don't lie," Kang chuckled, and winked. "Where I come from, humans usually start drinking around 15, and I know better than to assume the age of those that aren't."

He blinked, "You sure? One or two won't hurt."

[on_errantry]

There was, as there frequently was in Kang's tavern, a small black cat sitting on the bar, her head down on her paws as she watched the activity around her. Rhiow had taken to stopping by the tavern when she went to and from Grand Central - she had been spending more time away from Tycho's quarters now that his mate had awakened. Things just got... awkward.

She was listening to Chaucer's story with half an ear - even the Speech only gave her a limited understanding of the idiomatic and cultural nuances contained in it, but everyone loved a good story making fun of a good idiot. "A decent thought, but I think my life has more than enough salt already, thank you," she said, her whiskers pushed forward in amusement.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

The cat just talked. Chaucer wasn't even sure why he was surprised by these things anymore, and so just blinked a few times before recovering. Oh, the stories he would someday be able to tell.

"A sentiment, I believe, that many of us could agree with," Chaucer agreed happily. "But Wat enjoyed having his fingers in the pot."

[on_errantry]

"Reminds me of Urruah then," Rhiow said, sitting up. She began washing the fur on her chest as she spoke, setting it back in order. "He always had to be into everything and if he wasn't, he'd find a way to be." She snorted.

"Dai stihó - my name is Rhiow. I am on errantry, and I greet you," she said.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Ah, now there was the balance of formality that he loved. He grinned. "Then you are familiar with the intricacies of a Wat, I see."

"An honor," Geoffrey said, because he was never certain exactly who he was greeting here, and bowed. To a cat. "I am Geoffrey Chaucer."

[on_errantry]

"If you'll forgive my accent, sH'heffrey, I will say well met on errantry." She nodded back. "Although you don't have to stand on formality - I'm a technician, not the Queen of the People." Her tail twitched around her paws. "Have you been aboard the ship long?"

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"I have met none here whose acquaintance has not been an honor, Rhiow, and as I find your accent far less abominable than that of the French dogs, I'm afraid I will insist that point is still true." Geoffrey smiled, resting elbows on both knees to lean comfortably forward.

"My time here has been long, but not as long as some others. I'm afraid that my measuring of time is otherwise entirely inexact. If it means anything to you, I remember the battle against the mind-controlling slugs."

[on_errantry]

"I don't think I was there for that," Rhiow said. "I remember the Nightmare King, though." Her hackles rise a bit at the memory, and the niggling doubt that came with it. She shoved it aside and refused to think on it. "It's not been the strangest errantry I've ever been sent on, but it's up there with the Downside at Reiharth B-" She stopped herself. "Sorry, I know you probably don't know what I'm talking about. Where is your home planet? Oh - and I guess I should say when, since Stacy exists in multiple temporal states."

If Rhiow realized that her babble was becoming incredibly technical, she certainly didn't show it. Then again, she was used to talking to colleagues.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Chaucer had long since gotten used to sorting through babble he could not parse for the meaty meaning that he could grasp, and thus after a moment replied, "I am of England, the year of our lord 1373, the forty-sixth reign of our blessed King Edward III, father of the Black Prince Edward who should, God Willing, have brought us to great prosperity and advancement in his reign. But pardon; as I do not understand you, perhaps you do not understand me, and likely no one cares for the possibilities of passed worlds, big or small."

[on_errantry]

"Any world lost is a tragedy," Rhiow said. "And we're neighbors, even if we're very distant neighbors as time counts it. I'm from New York - one of the colonies, although I believe discovery of the new world is a bit beyond your time as the ehhif count it. Myself, I come from 1998." She put her whiskers forward a little. "Normally I wouldn't be speaking with you at all, in an attempt not to contaminate the timeline - you understand." Rhiow was used to this time travel concept, even if time travel was strictly restricted in her world.

The Whisperer rumbled at the back of her mind, and Rhiow's tail twitched. She knew the Powers had a very dim view of cross-timeline interaction, but it couldn't be helped aboard a ship like this.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"Not really, no," Chaucer replied, shaking his head in amused bemusement. "But please, don't let that stop you. I understand perhaps a fourth of what is said here, at times, and this sounds fascinating."

[on_errantry]

Rhiow's ears twitched back and forth, trying to think of a way to explain this so that he would understand.

"Well - I'm from your future. Which means that I have more than enough knowledge of your time to pose an incredible danger to our timeline. If I weren't an ethical person, I could give you scientific or political knowledge that would change the way the world is shaped in the future."

She scratched at her ear for a moment, trying to drown out the Whisperer's growls of displeasure. I won't actually tell him anything, I'm just explaining the theory, she said.

Sometimes that is all it takes, She responded.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Geoff thought this over, nodding, before choosing his response. "Yet since I have arrived, I have received training in both 'computers' and our 'omnicomm' devices, as well many weapons that I am grateful my lords do not possess. I have seen planets, and learned that my home is called Earth. I am afraid that, no matter what you tell me, I have been irrevocably changed."

He smiles as he says it. He sincerely both regrets and cherishes some of those discoveries and changes.

[on_errantry]

"Yes," Rhiow said slowly, her ears tilting out to the side. "I'm unsure what may happen if we restore our worlds. It would be nice to think we could trust everyone to just keep quiet, and not talk about what they've experienced here, but it's too much to ask for some. And the level of technology some are exposed to on the ship is far beyond what they're used to - the damage to the timelines would be catastrophic."

She looked down at the counter for a moment. "Maybe it would be better if we stayed aboard."

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"My apologies, m'lady, but should such a day come, I am returning home with not one look back. My duties lie there, and my heart. There are none who I could tell of this who would not call me mad at any rate. More than they already have."

[angel-ofthe.livejournal.com]

Sorry Dean, Cas was in the tavern. He was only there to have a drink ... or two though, so no need to worry.


He'd been listening somewhat quizzically to Chaucer's tale, and once the man reached the end, the other patrons in the tavern started to applaud. There was a pause and then Cas began to clap as well, but awkwardly, as if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing. He quickly stopped again though, in favor of taking another drink of his beer.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Chaucer bowed, grinning. God, he loved a good audience. Then, with a bound, he bounced off the table, stage, and deposited himself neatly near Castiel. The man's seeming confusion had caught his eye, intriguing and amusing him at the same time. Someone interesting to talk to, there.

"M'lord," he said by way of introduction and self-invitation, jiggling the dice in his palm to dispel excess energy, "was the tale not to taste?"

[angel-ofthe.livejournal.com]

Castiel blinked in startled surprise up at the other man. But something about his manner of speech, the m'lords ...

"Geoffrey Chaucer," he guessed.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"The same!" Chaucer agreed amiably. "But that means you've heard of me. From my writings, I hope? Nothing unusually sordid?"

[angel-ofthe.livejournal.com]

Cas appeared to give this question serious consideration. "Your soul never fell under my purview, so I can't comment on any ... sordidness," he decided. "As for your writings, ... I'm afraid I'm more qualified to comment on their level of blasphemy then their literary merit," he noted wryly.

A pause. "We spoke, on ... the communication devices. I'm Castiel."

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"Ah, but the writings of a man are revelations of his soul," Chaucer claimed though it wasn't precisely his practice, "and sordidness the nature of both soul and scribble. To be other than blasphemous would be to not live, though I think I have not over-stepped that boundary too far as of yet. It is not I who call my love my god."

"But you are the m'lord formerly from m'Lord, then. Both well met and excused from misunderstanding the complicated beauty of human failure."

[angel-ofthe.livejournal.com]

Cas frowned. "Writings are the revelations of the soul?" he questioned. "I always thought the vast majority of human writings were meaningless." He sighed and took another drink of his beer. "... Humans are much more complicated than I ever knew."

He blinked at Chaucer and raised an eyebrow. "Failure is beautiful?" Cas asked. "... I'm not sure I understand your definition of 'beauty'."

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

"The human is a complex beast; both better than and worse than beasts, arguably, and attempt is beautiful," Chaucer amended, "thus arguably so is failure. There is beauty in tragedy, we shouldn't forget that."

He cast the die idly on the table, studying the results for a moment before sighing. "Pulchritudo in oculis aspicientis est. Man would go mad without beauty, and there are those with little but failure to behold."