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On March 5, 2013, Wing Commander: New Horizon MUSH was shut down due to lack of activity. Thanks to the staff and players for your support. We had a good run and created some amazing memories. Keep in touch on the Facebook page for the game, which will be preserved.

The entire game's codebase and database (minus player information) has been open-sourced and released to the public, and the game itself is back up to help support the code at wcmush.com 2199!

04-22-2012 RP Log - Doctor Kitty

Participants: Alexis Ashukahwa, Dyre Esbenson, Dav Barsco, James Roberts, Trevor Davidson, Osa Ja'targk, Ibrahim Salah
Location: Pembroke Station, Promenade
Date: April 22, 2012

The Promenade is full of life today. Well, more so that usual as least. Businessmen and traders, people from all over the Enigma Sector are present in this one single place. Both of the legal and not-so-legal variety. The wealthiest have purchased empty storefronts for the occasion, the cheapskates have a table with a sign on, and some aren't advertising at all. Amongst all this bubble of life are four people, Dav Barsco, Alexis Ashukahwa, Dyre Esbenson and Trevor Roberts. At the present moment in time, the first 3 are located in a pawn shop, which is a little bit quieter than the main hustle and bustle going on on the Promenade itself. Trevor is currently walking towards the shop.

"Oooo pretty..." Dyre says, snapping out of the spell as Alexis talks to him, "Ehhh, yeah? Ish? Depends on if you're going: Weeeedeweedeweeeeeee dedededededededededede WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Or just like "Dee dee dee. Dee dee dede. Dee dee dee, deeedeeedeeee." His arms seem to move in the craziest ways for someone not used to seeing a performer who might perform a bit over the top in his motions. His hand strumming imaginary strings in an effort to demonstrate the ability to play it. During one of these full circle movements, that seems more appropriate for the twentieth century, the red hand hits the door - in the middle of a riff of course, "DWEEEEEEEE-SON OF A WHORE!"

Alexis Ashukahwa just kind of watches Dyre for a long moment, taking in the flambouyant demonstration- and then the part where it turns to shrieks of pain. "Whoa, you okay there?" she asks, casting a concerned glance to Dav. Do they try to help? Or get the hell away from this guy?

Osa Ja'targk enters from Elevator.

This is so not Dav's fort, really its not. Guitar playing maniac with a sore thumb? Not something he's used to dealing with on quiet cargo runs. "Eh, listen, d'you need a plaster or some ointment on that burn?" asks the tall broad-shouldered pilot in that almost-English accent of his. His First Aid training coming to the fore for once. Weird how it only kicks it when you actually need it.

James Roberts comes walking onto the promenade browsing some of storefronts and tables. He glances up in time to csatch sight of Dav and waves in greeting before beginning to make his way through the crowds towards the other man

Trevor Davidson looks around the shop as he enters, and isn't sure if he wants anything in here, but can't hurt tolook at least. He continues enjoying the hot-dog and soda he has for the moment while browsing.

"hah-hahaha....haha." Responds Dyre in a sort of forced way as he holds his hand, "No.. No I'm good." His mouth turns into a bit of a forced smile. He flails his reddened hand around a little while holding it with the other. "Oh posh, fuck that. Really.. I'm good." He flashes a wicked grin at Alexis momentarily and then glances back toward the guitars once more. It seems that one in particular has caught his eye again and he looks at it almost longingly. He blows a kiss toward it before looking back at the two once more, "So, yeah. Playing the guitar, it's all in the motion of the ocean if yaknowwhatImean. You know what I mean, eh Mr. Bulk?" His reddened hand points a finger at Dav to indicate me means him, the other hand is still holding the red hand by the wrist.

Mr Bulk? That's a new one. Ok, so he's tall, and he's broad-shouldered, but he's not bulky. Any marine could outmatch him easily. No, this guy's just a geek with a tall build. Ok, a pilot geek with a tall build. Dav doesn't really say much to the quasi-Australian musician, and instead heads over to the slightly alarmed shopkeeper, asking him if he has a first aid kit in the back. The little man then goes off to get it, and Dav turns around, to see what Dyre will do next.

"Oh, my word, how utterly adorable." So comes a voice from above and behind the trio in the pawn shop, Osa having managed to somehow find her way here. She is utterly pickled, a wide toothy grin displaying itself as the Kilrathi looks down upon the naked little fleshlings eyeing those guitars. But the red hand of Dyre's is what ends up catching her attention finally, and with a wiggle of her hand towards the mans hand she'll speak, "Oh that looks ugly." This said with a grimace as the drunken woman steps towards the group and waves a hand, "Hello. I'm a doctor. I would have to agree. That looks quite horrifying." Pause as her right ear twitches, her tail sweeping behind her in grandiose swishes, " And red. And as far as I'm concerned Humans aren't supposed to be that sort of color, not unless you're doing one of your mating rituals." Yes, hand will pop to her hip, skirt swaying merrily as she extends her other hand, the left, towards the man, "Here, I have my kit with me, I can give it a quick whirl and you'll be right as rain."

Trevor Davidson watches and blinks he doesn't have a first aid kit with him something else his mother would fuss at him for. He does have one but that's on his ship on Vespus. He considers and sees Osa arrive to save the day as it were.

"Wohwohwoh.. Hey now, I'm good!" Dyre responds, flinging his arms open as if to show off that he's good, before the other hand smacks into the door, "Ahhh ahahaha. Oh yeah, I'm. I'm good." His voice a little bit more high pitched as he clears his throat. The reddened hand goes to reach into his jacket pocket and it pulls free a Blue Hornet cigarette pack. He pulls the pack shakily up to his mouth. His lips snag one and he pulls it free from the soft pack. This of course was before the Kilrathi. "Sweet jesus mother of teeth!" Responds Dyre as he turns to look toward the Kilrathi who was moving toward his hand, "Really! I'm fine! I swear." His hands move about as if to demonstrate their ability and looses the cigarette pack that seems to be flying toward Mr. Bulk's direction before cracking into the corner of a table... and he doubles over clutching the hand squeaking out, "A light. A light. My kingdom for a light."

James Roberts has made his way close enough to the little group to hear what they they are saying. "It looks like I missed something interesting, I thought anyone who caused trouble would be spaced, someone was actually dumb enough to test that?" He aks before glancing towards Dyre and shrugging "I have a mini-welder, it might work though I'm not certain."

Alexis Ashukahwa takes a few more steps back, slipping farther back into the shop to stay out of the way of the show, at least for now.

Ok, a kitty cat. That wasn't expected. Yeah, there are plenty of Kilrathi on the station, and yes there are even kitty vendors and salespeople outside. But a cat doctor? That's unexpected. The shopkeeper comes back from the back of the shop with the first aid, but Dav puts his hand up to stop him, and then silently gestures to the Kilrathi. The shopkeeper's mouth opens in shock, and Dav sets the first aid kit gently on the counter before he drops it. The pilot eyes the newcomer. Funnily enough, she's only a few inches taller than he is, but she's a cat, so far more limbs and agile. Dav's attention is focused on the interaction between Dyre and the kitty, but he glances at Alexis to make sure she's ok, and gives James a nod of recognition as he enters the shop as well.

Trevor Davidson listens and watches and does say towards Dyre "If you don't let someone look at it, and she's the most trained here, you may have no choice later but to have her as a doctor, what may seem minor now, may not be as minor as it seems at first."

A purring sort of giggle rips from the throat of the Kilrathi who stares at the Humans with obvious delight, "You little ones are much cuter when I am drunk." Of course having a fanged feline saying this is unlikely to make any feel better. Especially when she laughs again, this time a growling sort of sound, ears both perking up as her left hand comes to splay fingertips across her lips, amber gaze dancing "I ..meant to keep that thought in my head. I apologize. My inner dialogue just sort of opens up with free drinks." Apologetically, though no less amused, she'll drop the hand from her mouth to press it to her chest, moving to lean in against a countertop as she reaches down with her other hand to reach under the right side of her skirt to reveal a hip rig snug against the thigh, "Please, here." Hey, Kilrathi can be doctors, too. Look, she's got her scalpels built in right in her fingertips. Both hands move now to the rig and she'll pop it open the uppermost compartment with a twist of her fingers, drawing out items and settling them along the countertop near her left hip, "It will not take long, come. I work with Humans every day. You are all so soft." That may or may not be a compliment. Trevor speaking catches her attention, the woman pausing with a grin for him, "Oh, Mr. Davidson. Hello." Back to Dyre, an entreating look given to him, "It will take five minutes. I promise."

The man is still doubled over to an extent, gripping the red hand down near his knees as Dyre eeks out, "I'm gonna kill that vendor. Crazy-language-speaking asshole vendor." His face is almost as red as his hand as he turns it to the side to look at James. He's still bent over even as he nods his head a little, "Sure. Mini-welder. Avoid the face butane-dude." Amazingly, the cigarette is still in his mouth even if he lost the rest of them in an 'attempt' to hit Bulk-Aid with the softy. Dyre shoots a glance to Trevor that seems to carry some annoyance. Probably not directly at him per say, more like 'Et tu Brutus?' before his eyes turn away. He takes small steps, rotating about till the Kilrathi is in view from his bent over position, "I'm sure you're a great doctor, cute-Kitty. But Really," He stops mid-sentence and thinks for a moment before finishing the thought, "if you got a lighter, we have a deal."

Dav Barsco says nothing, nothing at all. He merely gets a bemused look on his face, leaning against the counter top, watching the interaction between the kitty and the musician. He notes Alexis slipping out out the shop, but does not follow her, at least not just yet. This is too amusing to just leave. What will happen next?

James Roberts shrugs ater Dyre replies to his offer "So what happened anyways? The shopkeeper decide to demonstrate some product and not watch where he was pointing it carefully enough?"

Trevor Davidson chuckles amusedly at Osa "Hello doctor." he smiles and continues to watch he also takes a few seconds to scan around the shop to see what's available and all even more than he had before, and continues eating his hot-dog and drinking the soda.

"There is no deal making when it comes to an individual's health." And like that there is a change in the 'Kitties' demeanor, her body drawing up to its full height as she looks down to the crouched over man, voice still whisky warm though it is quite serious, "If you wish I can alert a security member and indicate to them that I suspect you are carrying a viral infection - quite serious and highly infectious - and we can deal with it that way if you wish?" Golden gaze fixes on the man, "Besides-" Here her good humor returns, hands splaying out in front of her, "It is free medical care. You can ask for no better." Gently she'll pat her thigh, indicating he should come to her, "Five minutes, then you can smoke out your lungs and give me business later on in your short lifespan." The hand that patted her thigh will reach back down to her hip rig with a flick of the skirt and she'll draw out Kilrathi sized medical gloves, tugging them on and allowing skirt to fall back to cover the thigh as she reaches out for Dyre.

"No. Nono..hot plate, doors, shelves," Dyre responds to James, leaving his sentence hanging as he slowly starts to uncurl his way back to standing. His head hits a shelf, a glass one that overhangs the counter slightly that the Kilrathi is unpacking onto. Bumping it really. His hand went up to cover his head and of course, that, smacks into the side of the counter. That hitting the counter makes him want to stand up more quickly as he's about to exclaim in pain. Which of course triggers him to really smack his head into the overhang, resulting in a crash backward onto his ass. He stops himself from rolling back though, not crashing into any displays. The motion was stopped by the red hand. You know, the one that just hit the side of the counter. Dyre starts laughing, his face red and the laugh rather shaky as he sits on his ass. The cigarette is still in his mouth and he points at it with the only-smacked-around hand not the burnt-and-smashed hand. He looks up to the Kilrathi and turns his head a bit to the side, as if he was attempting a quick look up the skirt before it fell back down. All the while he keeps laughing. It starts to sound more genuine even if it's still pain filled. Finally he just says, "Stooges."

James Roberts blinks and manages to surpress the urge to laugh somehow "Ok If you didn't need a doctor before though you defintely need one now, If this shop has some kind of guardian spirt or what not it really does ot like you apparently."

Did he just..? Dav can't help himself, and breaks out into a big belly laugh, watching as Dyre makes an idiot of himself with the Kilrathi. The tall pilot bends over, laughing, shaking his head in amusement. This is the funniest thing he's seen all day!

Trevor Davidson shakes his head and watches and blinks and then looks at Dyre oddly but waves "I best be on my way." he heads out as well. "Mind the nice doctor, or she might become not so nice especially if she has any syringes full of various relaxants nearby." he smiles briefly and heads out for good.

Again she can't help but grin very broadly for the Human, "They are far too cute for their own good." She'll mutter that to herself as she half-turns to the counter, looking to see what she's laid out, everything that she wished to be there is there - including a nice greenish blue gel in a nice little square clear container. Crouching down, and careful to keep that skirt between her knees, she will very gently reach out and ruffle Dyre's bed-head hair, "You need to be careful, little Human." A little tug of his ear, as one would a child, and she is reaching out to help him up in the same manner, tenderly though with a firm grip, moving him by placing her hands beneath his armpits and dragging him onto her knee. Yep, she'll even pop one up, the other pressing down into the ground. He's her little doll! He may only be just under a foot shorter than her, but Kilrathi, one supposes, are quite strong. "Now, you -" She's jutting her chin at Dav, "You will bring me the items from the counter. You, little human -" That last to Dyre, Osa looking down at him with a kind smile, "Do not make me spank you, do not move off my knee until I am done with you. Give me your hand-" Reaching around him with one arm she will wiggle that hand expectantly, "And we will fix you." Trevor is leaving! "Goodbye, Davidson, I will see you again." She's still staring at Dyre, waiting for him to cooperate.

Dyre keeps laughing and says to Bulk-Aid, "Hey Moe!" He of course has no idea if Dav's laughing about the same thing, but he doesn't really care at that point. His face is still red and he keeps laughing even as he manages to say "Ow." His gaze shifts to James just before he's picked up and his laugh turns into more of a guffaw for a moment. There's an attempt to respond to him, but then he starts laughing harder again as he's airborne. "I can fly!" He manages to eek out before he keeps laughing. He gives a nod to Trevor before he head out, well it's either a nod or something more akin to a bobblehead as he's being lifted - hard to say. He turns to look to the Cat as she just picks him up, and moves him about. He seems to be trying to stay relatively still as the Kilrathi sets him back down but the laughing doesn't really make it easier to move him. "Ohhh fuck that's funny..." Even midst all his laughing he still hears Osa talk and he nods his head in another bobblehead sort of motion. He holds out both of his hands toward the Kilrathi then and the comedy of the situation again broaches its head into his mind. He nearly doubles over and falls off as he laughing nearly doubles, high pitched now and he slaps his own knee with the red-hand in a sign of pure amusement which illicits even more laughter as he points at it with his other hand.

Dav just laughs and laughs and laughs. "Oh God.." says Dav, laughing even more at Dyre's antics. Ah, this is what he's needed, a good belly laugh. He did hear the kitty doctor talking to him, but he's laughing too much at Dyre's antics to even respond to her request. Dav tries taking a deep breath to compose himself, but how long that will laugh, one does not know.

James Roberts shakes his head with an amused twinkle in his eyes the glances over towards Dav "So did anything else of interest happen during the festivities or was it mostly dull speeches and the usual boring routine?"

Osa Ja'targk sucks in a deep breath and snaps her teeth together suddenly, growling deep in her throat, "My TOOLS are needed now, Human. There is wine waiting for me and a delicious man who has the wine." Giving up, or rather not putting stock in Davs ability, she will reach with her other free hand, the one not about to grab Dyre's, and grabs her items - snagging them with claws extended out in the event something decides to jump ship - and sets them on the floor before her. Her other hand grabs Dyre's burned hand beneath the wrist as he points at it, "There are not enough baked goods in the Galaxy for this tonight .."Where did her amusement go?! It left, along with the wine in her veins, and she's in Serious Doktor Mode. Dyre can shake and wiggle and fall about all he wants but her hand will keep a firm grip on his wrist, and by the very nature of this hold with her arm around him, it's unlikely he's going anywhere any time soon. He is her prisoner! Muahaha. "This is not a good burn." Noted dryly, Osa reaching down into one packet to draw out a wipe with her gloved hand - and she'll proceed to wipe the red hand with it like she would a child whose hands she was cleaning. Dyre will likely notice some cool tingling and pain relief, "Next time seek treatment immediately. It will be very sore tomorrow. You have not taken care of it. It will be very painful. You will need to come to my practice for follow up tomorrow." Once she's wiped it down she'll tuck the wipe into the strap of her bra, free hand moving again to grab the container of blue-green gel. The bottom of the container will be brought to her mouth where she bites down on the underside of it, fingertips twisting off the top - cap is set down, and gel container drawn from her mouth, "You may keep this burn gel, it will help this hand heal." Down container goes to the floor and she sweeps fingertips into it, looking at Dyre now, "The bandages must be changed every day, do you understand?" Even if he's still laughing she'll go about helping him calmly. He may be adorable but he's also a patient now.

Dyre's laughing starts to calm down some as he squeaks out at James, around the Blue Hornet, "Me!" This of course turns into some more laughing, his face darn near as red as a tomato by this point because of pain and laughter. He just holds his hands out in a sort of delicate manner, both of them, as if they were bandaged and the slightest motion would injure them. He looks back toward Dav and his doubled over laughing and it causes a few more bursts of laughter before he finally starts to stop. His head turns toward the Kilrathi, then one whose lap he's sitting in, and he can't help but let out a couple giggles at the oddity of the situation. His mouth tries not to contort as he attempts to respond in the most neutral tone he can muster toward the Kilrathi, "Sure thing cute-Kitty-Doc." The tone isn't very neutral, a bit high pitched still as he tries to contain his laughter. He clears his throat again, still letting out a couple guffaws but finally starting to not laugh so hard. "Though I think you might be a bit hard pressed to make me show up tomorrow, depending on your bedside manner." He finishes his sentence with a sort of cliff-hanger note to it - and a sort of half-toothy smirk nearly accompanied by a wiggle of the eyebrows.

Dav Barsco gets a big smirk on his face, one that Alexis would be proud off, as he watches the Kilrathi doctor ministrate to Dyre. Suddenly, his 'pad starts beeping, and he takes it out, and scans it. "Aww shit.." he mutters under his breath, and quietly thanks the shopkeeper, before looking at the Kilrathi and the musician with a final smirk, heading out of the door, the bell jangling as it opens and shuts.

Ibrahim Salah enters from Elevator.

A sweet ring tone sounds, like super sweet. o/~ Girl lookit that body, girl lookit that body, girl lookit that body, I work //ouuutt// o/~. Osa will reach up and press the backside of her wrist against her adorable kitty ear that stays nicely perked, taking the call, "Osa here, speak." Amber eyes will continue to remain on Dyre, one side of her mouth curling up in amusement, Dyre for the most part entertaining. Plus he's cooperating with her now, so she can do her job, "No, /you/ will not believe where /I/ am." She's speaking to the person on the other end of her comms, hand moving now to gently slather the Human's hand with the gel, "Yes that is a giggling Human - yes. I know!" Aahaha. A loud 'Is he /hitting/ on you?' sounding from her ear, loud enough that she's grimacing as her ear flops over, trying to stall the sound from hitting her ear drum, but obviously it's too late - it's followed by a loud guffaw and a 'Cute-Kitty-Doc? Bahahahaha.' The poor ear of Osa remains flopped over as one eye partially shuts, her brain now in pain as she tries to remain focused on the task on hand, "Little Human .." Osa will begin, the gel put down and lid atop it, gauze taken up, her thumb picking at an edge as it sits in her palm, unwinding a little so she can begin wrapping Dyre's hand - working with one hand doesn't seem to hinder the Kitty Doc, the end of the gauze pressed into the nook between thumb and forefinger of Dyre's hand, "Push your fingers and thumb together." This will help her wrap the hand without having to let go of his wrist - she doesn't entirely trust him. "Little Human ..." Her tone is wry, those kind amber eyes of her darkening a shade as she grins down at him, "You can put your eyebrows away. You could not handle my 'bedside' manner. Now be still. And Rudd, shut up." Yes, the voice on the other end of her comms is still laughing. It's a hysterical laugh, clearly the man on the other end is tickled beyond belief, "We are almost done little human -" James! He will get an answer, "Lots of drinking. I plan on rejoining once I am done with this little one."

His head swivels back to James as inquires as to the state of things. His eyes widen a little and he says back to him, "I got here and the fucking asshole at that soup(-ish) stand outside wouldn't sell me a bowl(cup) of his soup(-ish). Kept talkin' at me in some weird-ass language." This is still done, of course, with the Blue Hornet hanging on for dear life between his lips. Of course, then he starts to catch the the sounds coming from Osa. He follows what she says for him to do, but now... oh now this is too good. A grin flashes over Dyre's face, one that's all teeth - if they were sharp and Kilrathi-esque it might be quite the intimidating sight. Alas though, he's a human. Dyre leans in close and croons out toward Osa, as if trying to talk to whoever is laughing, "Oooo, but the Kitty is /so/ soft. I bet with a bit of -treatment- we could work out the kinks, cute-Kitty-doc." While he probably doesn't want Osa to be hurt by the loud noises, it appears that the mischief in his eyes is truthful of his behavior. If she didn't stop him he'd be darn near cuddling into her as he croons out again, "So big, and strong and so... fluffy."

So, two humans and a Kilrathi walk into a pawn shop(Okay, one human at the moment - James bamfed). Start of a bad joke right? I mean, toss a Rabi in, say "Oi Vey!" it's a clear winner. But one of the humans is currently sitting in the Kilrathi's lap in this pawn shop as she treats his burned hand. The other one was inquiring about the state of the promenade extravaganza. Anyone outside the pawn shop could see the extravaganza(that word is fun) still in full swing. Swathes of people move between booths and stores, endeavouring to find a good deal, start a business arrangement or any number of hundreds of things. Bustling would be a good way to describe it, but even that would fail to explain the entertainment portion of this opening. Wine flows freely like water through Rome, which only seems to liven up the business deals. In fact the only thing that doesn't seem to be going on, is any sort of violence or really any sort of crime. Of course, that could be because of the signs which clearly show the laws which will result in the ejection out an airlock.

Ibrahim Salah meanders out of a futuristic-equivalent of a phone booth. He has a bummed look on his face, lips drawn down into a scowl as he checks something on his pad. Using a writing stylus, he checks something off on his pad and mutters under his breath, "Useless son of a bitch. Not one single useful piece of information other than worthless blathering." He shakes his head and shoves the pad into his vest, dusting off his hands. He fishes out a black case from his vest and pops it open, drawing out a slim, black cigarette. The cigarette is slipped in his mouth, and he lights it, puffing heavily as he walks along the Promenade, ambling his way along the deck as he meanders his way toward the pawn shop. But not before stopping at one of the convenient kiosks that have been erected - and about damn time - to dispense some free wine. "Don't mind if I do." He spits out, with annoyance, and he yoinks a glass of wine from the kiosk.

As Ibrahim snags one of the classes a smaller Kilrathi behind the top of the kiosk calls out, "Woh there, human! Excuse me!" He puts his hands on his hips, looking a bit like he's about to chastise him for snagging the glass of wine without a second thought. His eyes narrow and his ears follow suit as he says, "With a clove you should really be drinking a red wine, the taste of the merlot is livened by the sweetness." Another glass is thrust out toward Ibrahim to accompany whatever wine be previously snagged.

The voice on the other end of her comms /howls/ with laughter. If anyone was where Rudd was they would see him at a dining table, forehead on the table, a hand pressed against the tabletop, beer in the other hand, his table guests looking at him with rapt amusement, the whole lot of them drunk and laughing as he relays every damned word. Osa for her part is mortified and yet this is too hilarious to not find it funny. '// He just called her fuckin' fluffy, fuck me in the face!//'. She herself /is/ fluffy now, her fur all poofed up, one ear curled down and a snarling sort of grimace on her face that's practically on the edge of a smile, "All right, little Human, you can stop providing entertainment to my friend ...he has enough fodder against me as it is. Rudd, what in Sivars sweet name do you /want/." 'Well, Miss Fluffykins, my little Whiskers, I was wondering where you /were/ but I can see you're in the throes of passion with - with ..ahahaha ...heee ..Human ...bahahahaha.' Tying off the bandage Osa will give the little cuddling Human a squeeze before nudging him with her arm to get the hell off her lap! "Yeah, yeah, yeah. All right - Little Human, you're all fixed up. Be /careful/ with the hand, please. -- Rudd, I swear on everything Holy and Sweet I'm going to rip your ears off." 'Bring it on, Fluffy! I can't wait.' Osa will snag off her gloves and hit the comm in her ear which abruptly cuts off the rounds of laughter that were flowing through so freely.

Ahhh, if only things were that simple. He tried to get in one last one before she cut off the comm, leaning in to purr out, "But my sweet lil' fluffy-like-a-bunny sweety-kins doctor of cute-ness and fur!" This of course is said as he's trying to snuggle into her once again, though the nudge does seem to get him to move somewhat and as soon as the comm is off he moves out of her laugh with a chuckle and the mischief still thriving in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be careful." He was being careful, even as he threw a mock salute that nearly hit a table. "But you know... you didn't say 'no'." He wiggles his eyebrows a little and gives her another smirk. Body language though says that he's prepared to make a break for it if she decides that enough is enough. Of course, his playful attitude really doesn't dissuade that appearance either - hell if his eyes were dancers, they'd be dancing a jig he's having so much fun.

Ibrahim Salah is just about to wander away and venture into the pawn shop when he hears the Kilrathi call out to him. He turns around and glares at the Kilrathi, frown deepening as he puffs on his cigarette. "What?" He asks, and is pleasantly surprised to find another glass of wine thrust toward him - a merlot to accompany the red. Ho! What good fortune! And so quick to judge, Salah was. "Aha...well...who am I to judge otherwise, eh? I'll trust your word." He says, taking the merlot in his free hand, double fisting glasses of wine now. "Salam!" He exclaims, raising the merlot up in a friendly gesture before he turns to wander into the pawn shop. Whatever sour mood he was in before, the booze will be sure to salve over. Woot. Ding Dong goes the pawn shop's entryway as he passes into the establishment. Hazel gaze flits about, sweeping over the antiques, jewelry, model ships, doodads, gizmos, and other fine pieces of junk and cast aside lovelies. Prior patrons seem to be long gone, though he spies one familiar Kilrathi, talking to two humans. "Osa!" He says, voice muffled by the kretek hanging between his lips as he raises his hands up, glasses of wine held tightly. "I brought you a drink, what a coincidence, hey!" No, he didn't want to bring her a drink, he wanted to be a selfish asshole and drink both. But given the seeping smell of cigarette smoke from the balcony into Osa's precious apartment, he'd best try to remain on her good side. He yells Salam and some dude standing at a soup(-ish) stand selling bowls(cups) of something that smells good(no it doesn't) yells, "ALEIKUM!" Why? Who knows, guys a little crazy as he starts saying to another customer that's at his stand yelling at him, "Wong-ba zai nar. Ni yao samminche ma. Wo shi ji-roe." He says that as he pours a ladle into one of the cups and offers it to the customer in front of his stand. There's an exchange of money and they part their ways - the soup beginning a journey all its own.

Osa will kill you, Ibrahim. She will kill you ded. And Dyre, too. And why not, she'll toss in James there. No need to leave him out. Osa will go on a killing spree of all the Humans. Cleaning up her mess she'll snort, pushing up to stand back up at her full height, skirt dancing back into place as she draws in a very deep breath, trying to will back the buzz she had before coming here. Ibrahim. James. Dyre. Dyre is the one who gets the first response, her teeth bared as she allowed for a low laugh to drift from her throat, the container of gel held out to the man, "Take it. Put it in your pocket. And stop being frivolous, there are Kilrathi that would rip your face off for the very notion, never mind a joke." She's mostly serious here, he's lucky that the vast majority of people in this pawn shop are Human, one Kilrathi in particular would lose his furry mind at the progression of this conversation. Reaching out she'll tousle his hair again for good measure before turning on Ibrahim, amber gaze narrowing as she levels a very dark look on the man. Dyre is forgotten as she tosses the gloves and the used wipe on a counter of the pawn shop and steps in towards Ibrahim, "What a coincidence indeed. You know what I would enjoy much more than the wine? You closing the balcony /doors/ when you are outside polluting the air I /breathe/."

"Hey-oh!" Announces Dyre in his English-ish accent. It sounds a bit like if the English accent mated with the Australian one and then just decided that South African looked like a good time only to decide that the only way to solve this was a three-way. "Oi, help me out when ya get done double fisting." He motions toward the Blue Hornet still held in his mouth, "No lighter, mate. Yeah?" He quirks an eyebrow and grins a bit at him. His gaze diverts for a moment though, looking about as he tries to find the pack he previously 'threw' at Bulk-Aid(Dev). This of course is quickly forgotten. All things really are when there's a Kilrathi whom he feels gazing upon him. For a moment he get the 'Oh Shit' look, a look that's still drenched in a playfulness that could only be described as... oh wait, no, can't think of a word - ah! Got one: Supercalifragilisticexpialodocious! He snags the gel though and adds in toward the Kilrathi, "You betcha sweet-n-fluffy."

James Roberts had been distracted by a message on his pad and so looks up to styare at Dyre wondering if he should call the station's mental ward assuming it has one

Eeep! Ibrahim's eyes widen as the Kilrathi levels a dark look at him, a mildly nervous laugh rising from him, causing his kretek to fall from between his lips and to the pawn shop floor, where it bounces once and goes out. Awww. No more smokey goodness. "Right, right. Of course, Osa. My apologies - you know I'd never want to infringe on your living space, hey? The balcony doors will be shut, I rpromise. I even moved my hookah out there, so no chance of last time's incident with the coals ever happening again. I remember these things - crystal clear.." He lifts the glasses of wine up toward the Kilrathi, and offers a grin, "So. Which one do you want? You know me - I can give a damn." He'll cast a glance in Dyre's direction, arching an eyebrow as he studies him. An odd one, for sure, and he snickers. "Sweet-n-fluffy. That is a new one." He says, quite bemused. "Maybe I'll start calling you that, hey?"

She will take /both/ glasses of wine. That's right. Snagging them right out of his hands as she leans in so she's nose to nose with him, deep growl emanating from her, teeth bared and a feral look given to Ibrahim, "If you so much as ever utter those words around me again I'm going to flay the skin off your backside and dip you in a vat of salt and let you squirm." Those words come out of her mouth nice and low and so soft, meant for Ibrahims ears only. Leaning back she will wear the brightest of smiles, raising one of the glasses up to her mouth to drink of it deeply. Drawing it away from her mouth she'll lick her lips and hand the empty glass to Ibrahim, "Enjoy." She will then sashay her way towards the exit of the pawnshop. No goodbyes to anyone. She's got more wine to imbibe and some fluffy tails to chase.

Ibrahim Salah blinks in surprise as the Kilrathi plucks both of the glasses from his hands. Any hint of protest from him is silenced as the Kilrathi leans in close, fangs and feral look slapping the protest rising from his throat and in his eyes clear away. Protest instead turns to a hint of fear as a shiver runs up his spine. A nervous chuckle rises from him, and he grins warily, giving a shrug of his shoulders, "Of course. Not a peep from me." Burn, he got told and put in his place. He takes the empty glass as it is given back to him, and he peers down at it, a frown tugging at his lips. He'll toss his head back and turn the glass over, trying to get any drops of liquid that might be left over. One drop. Maybe two if he is lucky. "Gee, thanks, Osa." He says, licking his lips with disappointment as he sets the empty glass down on a display case. He turns to watch the Kilrathi wander off, and he hrmphs softly. Lush. He thinks it, but oh, he is smart enough to not say it. "Salam." He says, instead, quite cowed.

James Roberts watches the Kilrathi human meeting smiling in amusement. Then his commlink beeps and he mutters something under his breath before making his way towards the exit slowing only to avoid running into people as he goes.

"KITTY! Where do I go for my check up?!" It's a call after the Kilrathi that may be somewhat lost - but he hopes that she catches it. His mouth stays curved into a wide grin and he takes a few more steps toward Ibrahim. Afterall, he's the one who hold the fire. FIRE! Fire for the Blue Hornet with blue stripe and green band. "Hey, bru, do ya gotta light? I seemed to have lost mine somewhere in my escapades... or maybe I gave it to that girl. Oi, you seen a chick with a butane? I had one, but now it's gone." He keeps closing the distance between Ibrahim and himself, the grin still pulling at the corner of his mouth. Of course he probably looks a bit silly with one bandaged hand and the other having a couple spots on it that appear to be turning shades of purple.

Ibrahim Salah looks at Dyre as he approaches him. Gaze sweeps over the man, looking at his bandaged hand, and then the other, eyeing the purple spots with a hint of curiosity. His behavior, though, doesn't freak him out - this is an open house with tons of free booze, people are practically bonkers by now. "Right. A light." He says, glancing down at his extinguished cigarette with a frown. He reaches into his vest pocket and draws out a lighter. He flicks it open, blue flame rising up briefly before he closes the lighter's cap and offers it to Dyre. "You are lucky Osa is treating you. She is the best damn doctor in all the Enigma Sector, let me tell you. I'd trust her with my life." He offers as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Dyre pulls a drag on the menthol as the lighter ignites the tip in a glorious bit of flame. Gotta love butane lighters. He grins more genuinely at the man and his bandaged hand reaches up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth(thank god it's not like mitten-o-bandage). His thumb flicks up at the filter on it in a precursory flick that knocks non-existent ash off and a couple sparks that go from orange to black before even reaching the floor. His eyebrow raises for a moment as he considers what he says and his head move a little from side-to-side, "I could see that. She seems the good sort o' doc. Fuck though if it isn't a little fun to mess with the kitties on occasion though." His mouth curves into a grin once more and he adds, "Want a menthol?" His free hand sans-bandage-and-smoke goes reaching for the back in one of his pockets.... only to pat around at the lot of them and seem a might be confused.

Ibrahim Salah plops the lighter back into his vest pocket and he smirks as he listens to Dyre. "Right on that. I give her a rough time at times, but Osa. Oh, Osa - she can escalate. Like no other - but saved my ass more ways than one." He says, giving his vest a tug. At the offer of a menthol, he hrmms, glancing down at the floor. "Sure, why the hell not?" He asks, reclining back against a nearby display case. "So. Who are you? Sounds like you'll be paying Osa some visits in the future?" He keeps patting about at his clothes trying to find the pack. His brow furrows and he shoves the filter end back in between his lips as his bandaged had continues in the search as well. This is then followed up by an "Ah!" He tries to snap his fingers, but the bandages don't seem to quite allow that. He turns about on his heel and starts looking about with a but of a furrow in his brow. His hand reaches up and he scratches his head. It comes back down with a sigh and he roughly mimes a swinging motion with his hand. With that he starts to move around the shop, "One second, they're around here somewhere..." The shopkeeper of this pawn shop reaches down and picks up the soft pack of blue hornets. He raps it against the counter top with an amused expression on his face as he continues to watch the man look about the shop. His head shakes from side to side and he sighs a little as Dyre continues to look about in all corners near the counter, except at the man standing behind it.

Ibrahim Salah arches an eyebrow as he observes Dyre. He raises a hand to his neck and scratches it, shaking his head as he continues to observe the human. "I am sure they are.." He comments dryly as he brings his hands to his side and stuff them into the pockets of his jacket. He looks down, sweeping his gaze over the various corners of the shop as he half-heartedly helps the human find his packet of cigarettes. Gaze lifts and he spies the shop keep, and he cants his head, gaze settling upon the packet of Blue Hornets on the counter top. He coughs loudly, and pushes off from the display case, "I think the shop keep wants to talk with you, pal." "Hold on, I know they gotta be around here somewhere." Tap, tap, tap, a soft pack on the glass. "I mean, seriously, I chucked them at Bulk-Aid...." He frowns and crouches down, "Well, not intentionally." His bandaged hand comes up and he grips the filter of his smoke. He takes a drag from his smoky treat, sending the top of it to a glowing orange before it disappears behind some gray ash. As he finishes his inhale the hand pulls the smoke away and he exhales down toward the ground, a plume of smoke from the menthol cigarette. His thumb flicks absently at the filter once more, sending a splay of ashes. He flicks it a few more times as he lets out a "Hmmmm..."

Ibrahim Salah rolls his eyes as he watches Dyre. He shakes his head and walks toward the counter at which Dyre is crouched before. "Seriously?" He intones, as he stands beside the counter. He brings a hand to the counter and knocks on it loudly, "Look up. Lest the shop decide to charge you for your damn smokes." He hrmphs softly within his throat and stands aside, crossing his arms over his chest. "Listen. I've got a shuttle to catch back to New Zurich. But I have no doubt that I'll be running into you again. Osa and I go long back." He says, patience running thin as he glances at a time piece in the pawn shop.

"Duwha..?" Dyre looks up, the stands up and snags the pack from the shop keep. He gives in a mock glare and then offers the pack(one of the cigarettes poking out) to Ibrahim. "Yeah, yeah... shut it. Faolan, by the way." He pulls the cigarette back up and takes another puff on it, letting the smoke out and upward away from the man standing in front of him that 'found' the pack. His head turns to look at the man who told him about a shuttle, "Yeah, you got it man. Take it easy, eh?" He flashes him a grin that's mostly tooth and entertainment.

"As-Salamu 'alayka, Faolan. I am Salah." Ibrahim says, with a bow of his head, as he reaches for the offered cigarette and plucks it from the pack. He takes his lighter, flicking it open and lighting the tip of the Blue Hornet. "Thank you." He says, as he stuffs the lighter back into his vest and puffs the cigarette - the menthol taste a bit foreign to his taste buds, but relished all the same. "See you around, Faolan. Take it easy on the hand." He says, a nod jerked in the direction of his bandaged hand. He turns away, and wanders toward the exit of the pawn shop, to amble out to the Promenade to venture home. Osa Ja'targk (Osa) pages: hemoglobin - I have low blood iron - anemia, have to get the levels back up.

Dyre bobs his head a little and offers his hand then withdraws it to wave at him with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle, "Yeah... Yeah.. ahhh that bandage sucks a nut. Nice to meet you too Salad." He grins at him, it's not a teasing or joking one he probably just doesn't quite understand the name that he said. The next thing he says is definitely a joke though, "Hah! Butane Salad. Nice, I'm not forgetting you." He leans back on the counter a little, casting a bit of a glance back to the shopkeep who watched him with a roll of his eyes. He takes another drag on the cigarette and watches the man head out the door and presumably off toward home.