The crew that returned from Hendersus Villae following their rescue mission was not the same crew that had been sent there in the first place.

Well, they were. They just wouldn't look like they were for a few more hours.

Goliath, Kang, Rainbow Dash, and Crematia were all still stuck as humans, and the reassurance they'd gotten from Zarom Ghartha that their transformation would expire in roughly one day's time was surely enough to allay some of their lingering discomfort with finding themselves still in the wrong bodies, but unfortunately, no amount of reassurance could completely relieve their situation of awkwardness.

Awkward or not, though, they all needed rest and medical attention, so there was no hiding out while the curse wore off. Not unless they wanted to spend the next 12 hours still hungry, tired, and injured to various degrees.

[ooc: setting up subthreads for individual character reactions is a-go!]

Who: Ian Chesterton and Tim Drake
Where: Outside the Drunken Dragon
Summary: Talking about Youth Services
Warnings: None

There's always something important about the local pub and one on a spaceship was no exception. Although today Ian was sitting outside watching the world go by and holding a glass of orange juice, which he occasionally sipped from. He wanted to be drinking something far stronger, but was trying to set a good example.

By now Kang had gotten a chance to make a comm post letting the newbies know about the Drunken Dragon Tavern, and Nima was preparing for a rush. She moved athletically around the bar, refilling drinks and recovering used mugs without jostling an elbow or spilling a drop. A barmaid well-schooled in a martial art with a heavy emphasis on dodging and weaving was worth her weight in unspilled beer.

With all her current tables attended to, she stopped by the door to be sociable as new people came in.

[OOC: If your character wants to speak to Kang, just make a note of it in your tag.]

When Orc woke up it took him five minutes before he had his first thought.

Dry.

His craggy lips felt entirely too dry. In fact his mouth, throat, his skin felt like he'd been sand blasted and thrown into the desert. The only moisture that he was aware of came when he slowly rose from the table to find a string of drool coming off his lower lip to a puddle on the table. Half of it was on his cheek, but he couldn't feel that.

His head began to pound as another powerful hangover settled in. How long had he been in this bar? He'd lost track of time.

That was fine, it was all fine. There was more beer here. He could wash away the pain in his head and subsequent painful thoughts. All he had to do was get himself out of the booth and over to the bar.

...

That might take more effort. He couldn't seem to will his heavy body to do more then sit up just yet. Days spent in a drunken stupor had caught up with him and were spinning his stomach like a blender full of misery and yuk.

Who: Billy, the bachelor party guests, and gate crashers! (OPEN, in other words)
Where: The Drunken Dragon Tavern (ctrl-f for description if you need it)
Summary: Billy's getting married soon, and what else would happen but a bachelor party! Everybody drinks and is merry. Maybe a little too merry.
( T'was a few nights before the big day, and all through the ship... )

Who: Shoutarou and anyone.
Where: Various places
Summary: After the events of SHODAN have passed by, Shou tries to deal with the personal fallout, once the majority of the shipwide fallout has passed..
Warnings: Depressed detective, boozing, angst in general.
( Someone try and cheer the poor guy up, eh? )

It had taken some time, and a bit of help, but the tavern's repairs were almost done. A full day had been needed to clear the store room of its wreckage (which was still in a large pile outside), and another two to track down materials and construction tools. There were plenty of spare wooden planks and beams in the city in the form of unused buildings; that didn't mean it was all suitable for Kang's purposes or easy for him to take. He'd at least been lucky enough to find a few odd-looking power tools, from some version of Earth, with batteries, saving a bit of work.

The tables, bench and chair had been the first things to be fixed. The stage just needed the new boards hammered in. The store room needed a new door, support beam, and shelving, and stock from the other building moved into it, including some of the full, heavy barrels of ale. He hadn't bothered with putting the various pots back in their proper places yet, though he had at least moved them out of the way and off the floor. The entire building needed swept as well.

It felt good to do a bit of manual labor, and it showed in how quickly and easily the bozak had drawn up detailed blueprints, gotten to work, and made occasional rounds to check on progress and supervise that construction was something he was very experienced with.

[OOC: Threadjacking is very welcome. Tag each other too! :D ]

Even if Kang hadn't already decided to stay by the tavern, he wouldn't have been able to get very far from it before running into hordes of robots. They'd moved into the City quick (or had they been there all along?), and several were making a beeline that way, from all directions in an attempt to completely surround it, their intentions clear.

Cursing, he rushed over to the other building, where he happened to live, to grab his armor and weapons. He'd gotten out of the habit of carrying more than his dagger when he was in the tavern itself; that was something that was no longer going to happen. By the time he got back downstairs, he could already hear their approach, and he hoped that others would show soon. It was one of the slow hours, with little to no patrons.

[Planning thread is here.]

A couple months in Glados' mazes are enough to make anyone miss Stacy. Samus is no exception to that. Whether she liked it or not, Stacy was where her life was now. She had obligations there. She had responsibilities there. And damn, she actually cared about the crew here. She was genuinely glad when the AI spit her out of the mazes.

So for her own private celebration, Samus went to the tavern. She managed to avoid running into anyone on her way here. As much as she did care about the crew, her own mental health and peaceful alone time are important too. Opportunities to do absolutely nothing didn't come along too often for her, and Samus was not going to waste this. She sat down with a drink in the tavern to enjoy a couple more hours of solitude before going back to being a proper crew member. Sure, someone was bound to realize she was back eventually, but until one stumbled into to Drunken Dragon and found her, she could go on not-existing to the rest of Stacy's residents.

Most of the recently-awakened people had probably heard of the Drunken Dragon tavern within a few days of getting accustomed to the ship. Some had already visited it, and a few had probably even become regulars already.

As usual, the door was open, and Kang and his helpers were there, refilling drinks and being sociable.

The stage was free for anyone that wanted to share a story, sing a song, or play an instrument, and it was more than welcomed, for what's a tavern without some form of entertainment?

[OOC: If your character wants to speak to a tavern person in particular (Kang, Kaylee, Nima or Kali), just make a note of it in your tag. Threads here can pretty much cover any time from the most recent podpop to just after Happy Happy Fun World; backtagging is our friend in T9. :D

Newbies, please make sure to read the tavern link! It's got all the info on the setting, available drinks, etc.]

If Vala's talents lay anywhere in particular, they lay in her seasoned ability to sniff out the seedy underbelly of a place. Before her time on Earth at the SGC medieval taverns just like this one, scattered across the galaxy, had been her life. Shady arms deals done under tables, intel exchanged at a price, secrets slipped over a tankard of ale or an inflated ego, even just plain old gossip could all be found right here, if you knew the right person to ask.

The ne'er do wells, the mercenaries, and more importantly the resistance, congregated at places like this. Stacy was so vastly populated, Vala was absolutely positive that they weren't all willing to fight someone else's war. She'd seen the recruitment drives already broadcast across the communications channel, all the new arrivals that were willing to sign up without so much as needing a shred of evidence before they were metaphorically saluting and pledging their naive and blind allegiance to the cause. If she wasn't so willing to risk her life for a war she knew very little about, then there were bound to be others.

The Drunken Dragon seemed, at first glance, the ideal place to start. Vala wanted to know how to buck the system, how to get hold of contraband, who to give a wide berth to, everything that the hierarchy didn't tell you. That was how you found out how a place really ticked. She might not have anything to barter with, but that could easily be fixed. She didn't have a reputation as one of the best thieves in the galaxy for nothing, and she always had her feminine wiles to fall back on. And even if she did say so herself, her feminine wiles were an incredibly attractive proposition.

Flagon of ale in hand Vala looked around for an empty table, surveying the faces of those already huddled tightly in conversation with a smile warm enough to appear alluring, whilst still not trying to appear overconfident. 'Time to lay on the charm, I guess,' she told herself.

It had taken some time, and alot of patience but Kriem had just about finished her first plush companion.

As a sort of nostalgia for the plan she had spent years of her life preparing for she had decided to make a Mad Bear just like she had used at home. The oddly creepy looking bear had empty dead eyes like a fish and a goopy sort of grin. An alternative to the standard cuddly bear that most would know.

Finishing up the final stitch on his ear she cut the thread. It was just about perfect.

"You will be the first of many." She promised reaching up and plucking out a strand of her hair. It began to glow orange and shifted from hair to a long sharp needle.

Sliding the needle into the madbear it took on the same glow for a moment and then stretched out like a yawn.

With a sly smile Kriem helped her creation to it's feet and it wobbled over to the water pitcher picking it up and pouring her a refill.

"Perfect." She adjusted her glasses and let out a sigh of accomplishment. She let her eyes wander around the bar, perhaps it was time for a real drink. Then she could begin plotting her next project.

When he'd first read the word 'tavern,' his reaction was... mixed at best. Master Lord Thom of Trebond had never set foot in such a place, and that alone was almost enough to avoid it, or even to cancel the whole meeting before it ever began.

But he found himself curious, powerfully so, about what the Test that he took in the Tower entailed. Perhaps this Counselor Kang wouldn't have much more information than Lord Bight, or perhaps he would. The man at least did not try to overinflate his knowledge of the subject.

His first reaction upon seeing the tavern was probably incredibly comical to anyone watching him. His face took on an expression like he couldn't believe what he was looking at, mouth slightly open, head tilted to the side. Was that supposed to be a dragon? Who in the world thought that looked like a dragon?

Perhaps the artist had partaken of the fare while he constructed it. That would explain quite a bit.

Thom squared his shoulders like he was walking into battle, not into a place some of the crew would consider to be the best on the ship. He entered the front door and took a moment to look around, gathering himself. Where was this Kang he was meant to speak with?

The mural on the wall caught his attention first, and then his eyes found the bartender, and he spent an even more comical moment looking back and forth between the two, his eyebrows knit in a puzzled expression.

He didn't want to approach the bar - too many people sitting there - but the impossibly tall winged creature behind it was who he needed to speak with. He took a seat on a barstool, his shoulders stiff with tension.

Its time to unwind, relax and receive news of home. A pod pop occurred while some were on a mission and it's time to meet up with new friends, drink well with old, and relax.The Drunken Dragon has opened its doors and stands ready and willing to assist in forgetting the trials those on the mission experienced.




OOC: If you want a specific barmaid, just put their name in the subject. Otherwise, enjoy, intermingle and do as you like.

Having seen more of the 'Verse than most people would dream possible in his rather eventful life, Mal had also been a patron of just about every type of drinking establishment there was. From upscale Core World bars to shacks out on the very Rim held together with mud and prayers, it was very likely Mal had at least stepped into it for a drink, and possibly a nice fight. Bars and Taverns were where you could learn a great deal about a person, just by watching how much they chose to abandon their own restrictions and self control in the presence of others. They were also where there was information, business deals, and new contacts to be found, all present in one neat central location, one that many communities revolved around. Whenever he stopped in a new port of call, Mal always made sure to pay the bar a visit sooner rather than later.

Of course, with all his experience with watering holes, he had to admit that the Drunken Dragon was something very new. On the surface it could almost be mistaken for a Rim world bar, with its rough and almost primitive design motif, almost comical dragon decoration, and lack of all the da bian luxuries the Alliance insisted marked them as civilized. Mal had been in enough of those dives, however, to realize that the Dragon was far more well maintained than most of them could afford to be, and that the design itself was not the result of a hodgepodge of whatever materials they could scrounge. It looked more like something out of an ancient Earth That Was picture book. Setting foot inside, Mal took the time to survey the layout of the place, memorizing the locations of all the tables, staff, and exits just in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

Not that he expected to have to do so, given Kaylee and Wash's assurances about the respect the patrons paid the owner of the tavern, but old habits died hard, and if he let them die then he expected he would soon follow. Still, it seemed like he'd arrived a bit early, and with time to spare before the person he was meeting arrived he made his way across the tavern to a place where he could sit with his back to the wall and watch the door. Of course, once he sat he needed a moment to get used to the fit of his suit, as he had for the past few days. He was rather glad the ship had seen fit to save the coat that was a symbol of his continued defiance against the now dead Alliance, but he had to wonder if it would have really hurt to save his pants and shirt too.

[OOC:This thread is mostly for if characters who Mal had arraigned to meet for drinks at the tavern, but if you want to thread with him feel free to have a character run into him while he's waiting. Individual threads can be set at different times too.]

This place was weird. The whole place, really, though at the moment, Sumeragi's mind was a little more focused on her surrounds. The... bar? pub? - she wasn't quite sure which - looked like some sort of gimmicky theme place. A tourist attraction. But it had been the first place she found, and they had vodka shots on the list, even if it also had mead. Honestly, did anyone drink that stuff any more? Well, there had been that one Norwegian architect in San Francisco... But that was a long time ago, now.

Free drinks, though - that she could get behind. She'd downed three vodka shots in rather rapid succession - the last twenty-four hours had desperately called for the haze of a few drinks to dull the sharp edges - and was now nursing some sort of rather strong ale the bartender had poured her. Neil and Christina... she hadn't expected to see them again. Nobody expected to see the dead, really - much less those dead by your own hands. Even now, the guilt still hung over her. She tried to push the thoughts away, and took another long drag of the ale.

Sakura had scoped out the Drunken Dragon before, if she'd never spent time in the tavern, even with Kang making a point of letting it be known alcohol wasn't the only thing offered at the tavern. Sakura hadn't been too inclined toward fruit juices in the last few whatever units of time since she glooped out of a pod and got felt up in the cleaning chamber. In fact, the ship as a whole made her relationship to odd (and familiar) viscous liquids rather chancy altogether.

None of this was on her mind tonight. This morning. This afternoon. No, whatever actual time this was, the Melting Clock was destroyed, the last few missions that had been chancy for crew were over and no casualties were reported to depress everyone, the Ohm weren't currently about to be directly engaged, Sakura and most of MedBay staff that could afford to be off shift were off shift (if Henderson didn't show himself, she'd be sad, and by all means Rory better be here after his last few "weeks"), and most importantly?

She would never have to talk or hear from Analog again.

"Here's to surviving the last few," she trailed off, "Last few crises, and whatever else is coming! Cheers!" She held up her clay mug to anyone in the general vicinity, tacking on a silent, Wish you were here, everyone. And I hope you cough up a cog or two, Analog!

[ ooc: Please, thread-jack with vigorous energy and wild abandon! ]

It hadn't been long since he'd received the news of his success in obtaining the open spot in the council. He had little doubt that there had been a close running between he and at least one of the others, if their time on the ship and popularity were anything to go by. Nevertheless he had been voted in and he intended to do what he did best. If he could turn Sanction from a down trodden slave ridden city to the prosperous city it was before he'd been brought here, he could help this ship work for the better. He no intentions of letting the crew down.

As he had told Kang over the omnicomms he could hardly refuse a celebratory drink or two, to do so would be rude after all. A good drink on such an occasion couldn't hurt and so he was once more at the door to the Drunken dragon. Pausing for but a moment at the threshold of the door, schooling his thoughts before striding to meet with his fellow councilor, governor and the only other from Krynn. A draconian and a dragon on the same council, even if no one knew of it. They would know in time though, Kang would know in time, but for now he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, tonight was meant to be celebratory night after all.

Karen was still a little nervous around Kang, and quiet, even after spending a couple of days with him, and he couldn't really blame her. At least she wasn't terrified of him anymore, and she wasn't all that difficult to watch over. He'd even managed to find a few things to help keep her entertained in Possessions (the Fairplay memories were definitely coming in handy in this case; he wouldn't have known what type of things human children typically liked to do otherwise).

He had duties at the tavern, though, and decided to bring her along with him. She'd offered to help him out, but there really wasn't anything a child as young as her could do, so he'd handed her some paper and crayons and set her up at a table next to the bar, asking her to draw some pictures for the tavern. That way, she was occupied and out of the way, and still felt that she was doing something to help.

He made sure to keep an eye on her as he went about his usual business, checking up on her every now and then to make sure she wasn't bored.

It was easy to find the Drunken Dragon Tavern, due to the train, and the fact that a good portion of the crew was familiar with the establishment and could point the way. Kang knew that there were a few already planning on stopping by, and that Kaylee could use the help. He also wanted to get more information on the new people, see who was likely to cause problems (Farseer Ildraniath already had) and who wasn't. There were a few he hoped would show up, as well.

Feeling a little happier than usual, despite the Farseer, he took care of business as usual, being sociable and refilling drinks.

[Open post is very open. Feel free to talk to either Kang or Kaylee, or both, or to threadjack (with permission, of course)!]