Falco_Tauvits
Junior Member
BlueMan
Posts: 95
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Tauvits slunk in to the bar, and slid over to the counter, slipping onto a stool as he leaned heavily on his elbows. Food had absorbed some of the bloodwine from earlier. Now it was probably best he got himself some proper whiskey down his throat, just to prepare for the coming days. He only ordered a shot, noticed S'ol off to one side looking very much like a man who wanted to be alone with his thoughts and his drink, and decided to leave the kid to it. Many times before had Falco been interrupted in his own drinking, and he knew how unappreciated it could be. Still, it didn't stop another man, in a captain's uniform, stepping over to the bar and sitting next to S'ol, speaking to him briefly before drawing a blood-stained sword, 19th century sabre of some sort if Tauvits was any judge. He couldn't help but chuckle wryly, and sipped casually on his whiskey as this brought him a glance. Tauvits: Ah, nothing. You just might want to clean that blade; the blood won't do the metal any favours. I don't know if that's a real antique - nice preservation of her, if it is - or a replicated thing, but either way, you're going to need to take better care of that sword. He downed the rest of his glass of whiskey amiably. Tauvits: And you might want to give that there in to security. They don't like it when you bring around your own weapons. Trust me. I had to put my own duelling sword in their security, and my knife, and phasers and everything. Makes a man feel like he's walking around naked, but security do not like the fuss of armed men. Now, if you were a Klingon, you could blag a Daqtagh as uniform, but I don't think that sword comes under any kind of Starfleet uniform, ever...
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