Lord's Rest Inn

*If anyone wants to RP, I have only Alix Stroth, and Ichigo at the moment.*

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 He smirks, not maliciously, but more of a little smile of sudden awareness. "Yeah. I try to avoid violent metaphors, being a counselor and all, but that one is really good."

“How was it violent?”

 "Shoving. Honestly, it's not that bad, but I work with a lot of kids who don't understand what a metaphor is, so I try to think in their terms. I guess that's rich coming from me, given that I'm usually packing a cursed revolver that redefined the term 'Hell' as its own name. Nasty thing. Hate touching it." He takes a sip of his coffee, then seems to realize something. "I'm not supposed to talk about that." He says this with a more curious than worried tone.

“Oh, I see. So you’re a therapist?”

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 "The storm will last a while. Perhaps you'd be interested in a job here? It wouldn't be too hard, and it would fill your purse."

 "What would it entail?" she gains an inquisitive look and pulls her woolen hood down a little tighter

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Saphuno is wiping down the bar

Jax is hunting a tabaxi

Thirteen is poring over a mix of apocalyptic writings, desperate scribbles, and horrifying drawings of nightmarish beings, looking agitated and confused.

A blue dragonborn clad in a mix of leather armor and brass mail carrying a heavy crossbow is making his way through the woods, on his guard. His orange eyes have a hit of inhumanity about them.

 A tankard of ale is set down in front of him.

Jax stays focused on the catboy, eventually catching him.

He doesn’t process it, murmuring to himself. “But the constraints of paraphysics wouldn’t allow such a being to exist in three layers of reality, especially one so caustic to quantum functions already…”

The dragonborn sees them from a distance and lifts the crossbow, securing a pair of round goggles over his eyes and watching the scene, not sure if any action would yet be required.

 "Have you considered it only partially exists in the third layer?"

"You've got quite a bounty on your head, Ziff. suits my wallet and my wall just fine." He says while slitting the Tabaxi's throat, laughing silently.

“What?” His head snaps up. “That would be utterly infeasible, assuming Aganazzar’s Law holds up in a vacuum, which it has no reason not to.”

He takes aim and shoots at Jax, trying to hit him in the arm or leg and not seriously wound him. Attack: 15 Damage: 9

 "Agnazzar was a crackpot, Ireznus is where it's at. I'm telling you, when it's fully resting in the first and second, it can only partially exist in the third. Drink."

The arrow whizzes by Jax's leg, and he hisses, decapitating the tabaxi and stuffing the head into a burlap sack. "Who dares meddle with justice?" he hisses at the direction of the arrow

“Do you even know what I’m talking about?” He says exasperatedly.

Šeansal lowers his crossbow, not trying to expose himself. 20

 she cackles, slapping the bar. "Nope! Just trying to get you to lighten up."

Jax catches a whiff of something, but still heads towards the arrows source.

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “…what time even is it?”

He begins carefully moving around the clearing, trying to move toward the beheaded tabaxi corpse without being spotted. Stealth: 21

 "no clue, probably time for a night cap."

Šeansal gets away, but his scent lingers in Jax's nose. The hunt is on.

“I don’t drink. Never have, never will. My mind and actions are utterly unclouded.”

Carrying the carcass with ease, Šeansal begins heading to town to find a place to turn in his stolen mark.

 "Okay, sure.. here's a glass of water."

Jax, head in tow, makes his way to the same place.

“I’m not thirsty. I just need to find out how they’re hiding from me. It’s like Where’s Wally with the entire multiverse.”

Šeansal takes a slightly different path, such that he won’t arrive until Jax has left.

 "Go. To. Bed."

Thats not his current priority. He hands the man running the collection counter the head of the Tabaxi, stating his name, the victims name, and collecting the cash. The man working the counter marks Ziff's name off of a list.

“Can’t.”

Šeansal groans, tossing the body into the gutter and walks away.

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 "The storm will last a while. Perhaps you'd be interested in a job here? It wouldn't be too hard, and it would fill your purse."

 "What would it entail?" she gains an inquisitive look and pulls her woolen hood down a little tighter

 "Taking orders and giving food to people not at the bar." She says simply.

 "Seems easy enough. I'm in" she holds out her bandaged hand to shake