Logs:Proven in the Most Scientific Way

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"What's a short bus?"

Cast
Invidia, Morgaine, Sirus, Gwyllgi
Gamedate
2012.09.26
Log
Invidia chuckles pleasantly. "A toy store? That must be excited. I always wanted to work at one when I was a child, but then again, who wouldn't?" Her hands fold around her glass easily, winding together in a fluid motion. "He can know what he wants. Edinburgh is an interesting city, with lots to do; they say it is one of the few places that you can go where there are likely more people in the ground than above it." She cracks a little smile at the comment, as if she'd made a clever joke, or something of the sort.

The small brunette is seated across Sirus at a both, the pair talking quietly with a laptop back at each side. There are beers and thus, life is good.

Cocktail bars are not really Morag's scene, but she's experimental and she decided this place was worth checking out. Who knows, maybe they even have those fancy American cocktails she keeps reading about! So in she walks, blinking a little bit at the change in lighting, and suddenly just wondering if she can find herself a nice, safe Strongbow.

Sirus keeps on sipping on his beer finshing it he sighs gently. "Yeah it's pretty nice here I like the weather I love rain and all I hear is it rains." He winks and then grins at the girl."Well it's good for people to be above ground under ground we can't change much in life. Socitey would stagnate we need people with fresh new ideas." He starts to talk faster his accent getting thicker with by the second."It all needs to be restarted from the ground up beaten into behaving." He nods softly and then raises his hand to the waitress and nods towards the beer and then looks back at the girl."Yeah lot to do but that is true anywhere but I'm hoping to make my mark here to make something that matters to make the world a brighter and more wonderful place." He is getting wraped in his bigger then life ideas and then he stops as the beer arrives and takes a sip."Sorry sometimes I get a bit carried away."

"In Britania, all it is is rain and fog and damp," Invidia sighs, admitting easily. "I suppose we grow used to it. Either that or we all buy wool coats to ignore it like the sheep do." She listens carefully, doing her best to decypher the words through his accent. "Well, I suppose that is all true, seeing that the people below ground are all dead and rotting. It is good to see someone with a drive like you have; so few people seem to have a /purpose/ anymore. They are too busy worrying about which piece of technology to buy without really thinking about any of the effort that went into making it." She smiles a little at the apology. "Do not worry about it; there is no need for apologies. Zest is better than bland, yes?"

Morag gets to the bar and seems pleased when they can in fact produce a Strongbow. Once she has her pint, she turns and leans her elbow back against the bar so she can scope the place. Her gaze falls on the pair having their lively chat about the weather, though it's Invidia who earns the majority of her scrutinization.

Sirus nods to her with a huge grin on his face."Yeah it is good bland is the not ever fun in life. I just finshed my schooling and have moved her to set up shop so to speak. My mentor in those type of things told me this was a nice place and so here I come." His irish accent still thick as his eyes burn with the passion of youth not yet spoiled by the horrors of this world."Britania huh whats that like never been. I'm just from a small town not even on the map in Ireland. I did study in Dublin though that is where my Mentor was from it's where he ran his school." He nods softly takes a sip of his beer."He was a great teacher truly gifted at explaing the joys of techonlogy building and the such.

"What did you go to school for then? Business?" Invidia ask curiously, resting a hand under her chin gently, leaning on it. She finally picks up her beer then and takes a first sip. "It must be nice to be able to pick where to go, to put up shop. I do not think many can say they have that luxury." Her attention trails for a moment then, catching the faintest him of Morag's long, dark hair. She gives the woman a curious look then. "Morgaine?"

Morag's brows lift in pleased surprise. "Ahh, Invidia, yes I thought it was you." She smiles and drifts over before politely saying to Sirus, "Excuse me. The lady and I have met previously, I don't mean to be an interruption." She regards the brunette again, seeming pleased. "Have you been well? I didn't know you'd be visiting Edinburgh. Or are you taking up residence?"

Sirus smiles at the new woman warmly with a huge grin."Thats fine why doncha join us for a drink. The more the merry in life. My name is Tinker at least that is what I go by. My folks not that weird." He brust into laughter at the bad joke his whole frame shakign with amusment and warmth and then he grabs the beer and takes a long sip."I'm also new here I love to meet new people in this world." He then watches the two woman now silent for a few seconds to let them catch up. The twinkle of his bad joke still in his eyes.

Invidia scoots over a little bit for Morag to sit down. "I didn't realize that you were in town; I remember you said that you were from Edinburgh but I didn't think to look up your number," she admits. "I recently found a job in town, working for a manufacturer of heavy machinery. I've been well, yes. Sir Tinker here has been keeping me company after a long day in front of the computer screen. Morgaine and I met in London; she and her teacher we travelling the world. She and my father knew each other, so it was something like two parents nudging their children together in hopes they get along."

Morag lets out a little laugh. "Not so much the world; just Great Britain, really." She obligingly takes a seat. "That is rather what it was like. I think they were hoping we'd wind up having a sleep over and braiding each other's hair." She sips her cider and can't help but grin at Sirus. "In the world, eh? What about out of the world? Have you found yourself meeting any extra-terrestrials?"

Sirus shakes his head at Invidia with a grin."Never a sir or a mister just tinker. I hate those titles and shite." His irish accent burning with pleasure of the beer and he takes another long swig of it."So Morgaine was it? I love the name makes me think of KIng Arthur great fable that and she was my favorite such a dynamic person." He then takes another sip and then grins."Getting back to your question thought I went to school for this and that. It was fairly random and then went to University for techonlogy programing welding crafting of machines. I took courses in it all that is my one burning passion besides philopshy but thats a hobby." He then looks at Morag with a huge grin."I wanna meet an alien that would be amazing just bloodly amazing." His irish accent rolling the words togther quickly as he starts to think about all they can teach."They could bloodly well teach us so much." He then finshes his beer in one long pull and raises his hand for another not even looking now.

"Unfortunately, I fear I do not have enough hair to braid." Invidia grins, because it is quite true. It is unlikely that a single piece of hair on her head is longer than two inches. "Though I do not put much stake into aliens. Any alien that is able to travel through space to find us is unlikely to be nice. I like my feet firmly on the ground. Though I do admit, I would like to eventually learn to weld. I know the mechanics of it, but when peple build stuff for me, I really don't need to learn how."

"Plenty of industrial to be found around here." Morag advises Invidia, but she blinks at something Sirus said. "Fable?" she echoes, and then gives him a gentle smile. "You're mistaken. Arthur is not a fable, nor Camelot, nor Avalon. But I can understand why you might think so. I gather he was little anything like Sir Richard Burton." To Invidia. "Are you staying on, then? I am, too."

Sirus grins at Morag knowingly and nods."I do tend to agree all fables are based in the truth from far ago just pereverted and draged into the light. Under the guise if not understand the things that happened then. Just like some people say that technolgy will never do this many years ago who is to say magic did not happen then." His joking nature is now gone and his eyes are serious looking at both girls carefully."Who is to say that magic is gone from this world. Maybe if we belived enough it would happen again and be a strange force of change from the stale lands and goverments we live in." He then takes a swig of his beer and stays totally quiet waiting for their reactions to this sentence as if something huge hangs on the outcome.

"I am sure it is part of why they hired me. Though, I do not know if the men I work with are looking forward to having a woman at work or dreading it. Either way, I am not afraid to throw my weight around a little bit to get my way. You know that," Invidia teases, sipping at her beer once more. The mention of magic doesn't even affect the brunette with the shorter hair. She just sort of stares, as if taking it in. "Back then, anything was magic. Just like how chemistry was alchemy. It is just a matter of perspective."

"Oh, I'm not debating the reality of magic." says Morag with a smile. "Just the idea that Arthur and Camelot and Avalon were a fable." She then oh's to Invidia, waggling her hand dismissively. "Edinburgh's surprisingly advanced about gender equality in most cases." she says. "I think as long as you pull your weight, you'll be fine. What sort of things will you be welding? Are you learning for artistic purposes, or repair, or the process of invention?"

Sirus nods sotftly and then is back to his bubbly self and then grins at her."I could help you learn to weld I'm decent at it. I built a motorcycle a few weeks ago from the ground up." He takes out a photograph from his breast pocket and places it down on the table."Thats my new ride I built it for the trip but it didn't make it up here broke down half way sadly over used it. It'll be here in a few weeks getting it shiped with the rest of my stock. It's for sale now and going to try and do another one. The motor just blew due to the wet weather it was not fun. I might reapir it thought and keep it." He nods softly and then takes another sip of his beer."Is it okay to smoke in here do you think?" He looks at them not know the local rules about that sort of thing.

"I am sure it is part of why they hired me. Though, I do not know if the men I work with are looking forward to having a woman at work or dreading it. Either way, I am not afraid to throw my weight around a little bit to get my way. You know that," Invidia teases, sipping at her beer once more. The mention of magic doesn't even affect the brunette with the shorter hair. She just sort of stares, as if taking it in. "Back then, anything was magic. Just like how chemistry was alchemy. It is just a matter of perspective."

Sirus nods sotftly and then is back to his bubbly self and then grins at her."I could help you learn to weld I'm decent at it. I built a motorcycle a few weeks ago from the ground up." He takes out a photograph from his breast pocket and places it down on the table."Thats my new ride I built it for the trip but it didn't make it up here broke down half way sadly over used it. It'll be here in a few weeks getting it shiped with the rest of my stock. It's for sale now and going to try and do another one. The motor just blew due to the wet weather it was not fun. I might reapir it thought and keep it." He nods softly and then takes another sip of his beer."Is it okay to smoke in here do you think?" He looks at them not know the local rules about that sort of thing.

"Oh, I'm not debating the reality of magic." says Morag with a smile. "Just the idea that Arthur and Camelot and Avalon were a fable." She then oh's to Invidia, waggling her hand dismissively. "Edinburgh's surprisingly advanced about gender equality in most cases." she says. "I think as long as you pull your weight, you'll be fine. What sort of things will you be welding? Are you learning for artistic purposes, or repair, or the process of invention?"

"A motorcycle? Not bad. I actually have designed a few motors. Not that small, but they all have the same mechanics, essentially," Invidia explains, running her fingers through her hair. Her dark eyes scan the picture then. "I've never been one for motorcycles. I would much rather take the train; I can get so much more reading done then." She cracks a smile at Morag. "I know, but you haven't met some of the people I work with. I doubt there are few jobs that have more men in it than mechanical engineering. Many places I have worked at are similar to a frat house at times. I just think it'd be interesting to learn."

Sirus nods softly and slides the picture back into his breast pocket."Yeah it was fun to make. I love having new projects it really gets the blood pumping." He nods softly and then drums his fingers on the counter."I need something new to work on I'm sure I'll figure it out soon. So what do you make Invidia?" He looks at her with green eyes sparkling with curisty to learn more about these two and then glances over to Morag."Also what do you do for a living? It's always nice to learn about others. It's a good thing to learn." He nods softly and he sips at his beer quietly as he waits for them to speak of themselves.

"I suppose you could say I'm a student?" Morag offers tentatively. "I have...religious, political obligations. My mum owns a store here in the city though, so now and again I work for her, when I need to. My Auntie Nim makes sure I'm not homeless and well-fed." She grins.

"I am working for a company that designs heavy machinery, especially cranes, drills, anything that really is required for large construction or destruction jobs," the Brit explains, leaning back a little. "Sometimes, I miss being a student, though I do not miss the stress of studying for hours on end, taking the test and not being sure of the results for a week. At least with a job, they do not give you four hour long tests to see if you know what you are doing."

"At least a lot of my studies tend to be a bit more than just staring at books." Morag says cheerily. "Being out and about, meeting people, learning about herbs, studying different traditions...it really is quite lovely."

"It does sound interesting. Not exactly my cup of tea, herbs and things," Invidia admits with a little shrug. It was no secret. When it came to growing plants, she probably couldn't keep a cactus alive. "We should definitely catch up sometime though, Morgaine. I'm sure there are lots of things we need to talk about being in Edinburgh now."

Sirus nods softly and then smiles."So what is there to do here you native you." He grins from ear to ear and leaps to hsi feet his beer finshed."I grow bored sitting here and need to explore the world you two are free tojoin me. But at least tell me where one can go to let off some steam and such." He nods with vigor and then starts to streach from sitting too long and grabs his laptop bag in one swift motion and throws it over his shoulder."I need to fucking rock like a star and groove like a bird." He grins like a manic who just woke up from a long sleep and then starts to dance as he awaits the answer with a furious energy taking over him."SOrry that good ole adhd is kicking my ass now. I was still for away too long."

"I'd enjoy that, really. There's so many people to get to know." Sirus gets the mildest of looks. "I'm so sorry our company isn't stimulating enough for you." she says courteously. "I'm sure we'll meet up again another time." She smiles, showing white teeth.

"I should head out too. It is going to be an early day and I fear that if I stay out much longer, I will get such a little bit of sleep, it will not be worth it," Invidia notes sadly, standing and dusting herself off. She grabs her own bag. "If you didn't lose my number, call me tomorrow, Morgaine. I'll make sure to tell my father know I ran into you."

Morag is seated by herself at a table, and has since whipped out a book to read while she enjoys her Strongbow. Now and again she looks up to people-watch in an absent-minded sort of way, but otherwise, she keeps to herself.

Thankfully it's Wednesday, so the dress code in the classier bars isn't so strictly enforced. Gwyllgi isn't /shabbily/ dressed, but he's got that manner of attire that says he didn't really have that much time to take care of things. Not a purposeful lack of presentation but that it's something a little further down the totempole of importance. There's a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, seeming to contain a laptop and a lanyard ID badge from the Scotsman slung about his neck.

Definitely time for a drink and it's on the way to the bar to order that he spots Morag and brows rise in surprise as steps slow. "Well, well, well."

Morag looks up at the new approach to her table. There's a brief tilt of her head as she runs through her mental rolodex, and then, "Gwyllgi." Her lips curve into a smile. "Today's been one for sights for sore eyes. Will you join me? This place is very posh, isn't it? Not really me, but they have Strongbow on tap so it can't be all bad."

Offering a wide smile, there's a gesture to the bar. "Let me just grab a jar. D'you need a refill?" Gwy's eyes turn toward her glass, guaging its fullness. Whether she does or no, he excuses himself to grab himself a matching cider before returning to settle down opposite. "I never knew the scots had it in them, to be honest. I was expecting sawdust on the floor, wasn't I?" The earlier comment isn't lost though, "You've seen someone else from back home too, then?"

Morag smirks. "Of course we have it in us. But sawdust on the floor would have been better!" She trained at the Welsh Consilium, but she is Scottish by birth. "Wouldn't say no to another pint, cheers. What's brought you here, then?" she asks brightly. "You've no idea how nice it is to see a familiar face. I just saw a girl from London I've met in passing, but that's not the same, really."

The jibbing is in playful spirit with a small laugh as the quiet spoken man sets down his bag at the side of the chair and slumps in the chair, the sign of a long day. "I only arrived this morning, so I've not gotten quite so homesick yet. See the world, they said. It'll be fun. They didn't mention how it would take seemingly forever on the train." Her drink is slid across before he takes the first, very much appreciated sip of his own. A moment of quiet consideration of the question though. "Things are afoot. People are interested." he replies, cryptically. Although it's likely not too hard to figure out the meaning. "And yourself? Decided you were done learning from us?"

"That's a lack of patience, that is." she chides teasingly. "I love trains. Relax! See the country! Have time for yourself!" her gestures are grand and expansive and then she ah's. "Well, you know how it goes. Nim felt it was time for me to take some responsibility for myself." In otherwise, Morag has only just been released from formal apprenticeship. "So I thought coming home might be nice. There's a lot to learn here, and besides - we can't have the locals scheming to far often over trying to get their greedy paws on Anglesey, aye?"

"Time for myself, I remember that. Once upon a time..." Gwyllgi smiles wryly, settle back and stretching an ankle at the side. "So much to do, so little in the way of wifi signal on the train." There's a nod of the head though, a silent congratulations. "If by the locals, you mean the London crowd then we're in complete agreement." he counters with a further pull at one corner of his mouth.

Morag makes a pfft sound. "They all want their paws in us...everyone except the Americans, who are to...American! To see its worth." She grins. "Aww, do you fall apart without wifi? You wouldn't last a weekend camping at the Tor."

"Given the choice, I think the locals are the lesser of many evils." Gwyllgi raises his glass in a marginal toast though to concede her point. "Not quite fall apart, but almost. Today also happened to be my first day at the office, leaving me with plenty of preparations. There's always something though. Maybe I should take a weekend camping, where no one can actually get hold of me." Seems unlikely. It's no secret that Gwy's mentor is tremendously influential and also terribly demanding.

"If anyone intends to keep your brain from exploding, a little downtime might be good." The Thyrsus points out. (Thyrsus! So lazy!) "But the heart attack from parting you from your blackberry might not be worth it."

"Blackberry? People still use them?" he asks, teasingly. As if on cue, there's a quiet buzz from the pocket. It prompts an apologetic look while he quickly gets a reply out before hiding it away. "I have a suspicion that it may be cursed to do such a thing if I ever put it down for too long." That must be a joke, right? "How are you finding it being back home, anyway? Did you miss it?"

"I did," she admits with a chuckle, giving him a mock-glare for the implication about her lack of tech-love. "But Nim kept me so busy...dragged me all about Great Britain for a bit there, and I didn't have time for remembering to feel like I missed it. If that makes sense. And you, a Welshman in Edinburgh...how are you managing?"

Gwyllgi will drink to that, apparently. "Day one has been semi-uneventful. Except for luggage going missing. Thankfully," he begins, leaning a little closer and lowing his voice to the tone of a conspirator, "No one has learned that I am a fan of Jamesons as my whiskey of choice." Eyes turn to furtively scan the crowd, as though this admission may immediately bring down the wrath of the Scottish pub-going crowd.

Morag tsks, teasing, "Them's fighting words, you know. Only thing worse would be to show up in an Italian football jacket." Her elbow goes on the table, and her jaw cupped in her hand as she sips her cider. "I'm going to have to get used to the stationary life again. Having a job, all that. What are you going to do here?

Shhhhh. Gwy scowls, encouraging her to keep this secret secret. "I was going to wear my Man-U shirt tomorrow, should I not?" This must be a joke, since he only barely keeps a straight face. "D'you have a job yet, or just starting to look?" A thumb indicates the badge about his neck, "Got a gig writing for the Scotsman. Be sure to read my fascinating column. When I get one."

"Aye, only just starting. I could always fall back on my mum's shop, but maybe getting out from under parentals thumbs would be a good thing. I'm just not sure..." she trails off, and her grin broadens again. "I'll look for it. Your column, when you get one. Do you have a blog? I'd read a blog if you had one. I do have a laptop, shockingly enough."

"That was actually what I was working on, during the ride up. Figure I should practice talking about local news. It's truly riveting stuff. With not a whit of sarcasm or satire." The last part is most likely not true. "A Leek In Edinburgh dot com." Witty. "I'll likely link to online articles there. It's rare that anyone actually buys broadsheets these days. I mean. Someone must, I just don't know many of them. I do still buy the Guardian on occasion, when I have five minutes to sit down with it instead of absorbing bite size news on a tiny screen."

Sirus runs into the bar with a huge grin and then starts to singing loud irish love songs as he grabs a beer from the bartender and starts to head over to the table he was sitting at before and plops down laptop free for he stoped at home quickly before returning to the bar. He then grins at the Morag and then starts to drink his beer and then noticing the new comer he grins from ear to ear and offers his hand in a polite gesture."Hiya there my name is Tinker and it is pleasure to meetcha new in town and building items of wonder is the game." He nods sharply and then takes a long pull from his beer and then watches them both intently for a few seconds in total silence."Whatcha talking about." He rests his head on his hands like a little kid getting ready to swing his feet back and forth.

Morag lifts a brow at the returnee and says solicitously, "Oh. Did you bored of whatever you were doing after you chose to leave?" She smiles politely and advises Gwyllgi, "He was sitting with me and that gal I mentioned from London, declared he was bored, and took off. You know," she adds seriously to Sirus, "You might want to consider chamomile. A lot of chamomile."

The loud singing draws Gwyllgi's attention even before Sirus bumbles over to the table and sets down. That part brings a raising of brows in mild surprise and a look of query thrown to Morag. "Rhys." says he, shaking the offered hand out of politeness. The name must be legit, since it's clearly stated on the card hanging around his neck. Rhys Jones. "Are you from London also?" he asks, of Gwyllgi. A significant question that also includes Morag for verification. The thick Welsh accent leaves no doubt as to where 'Rhys' is from.

Sirus looks at them both and then grins from ear to ear with the pleasure of a cat."Yeah I did grow bored wonder the streets for a bit then went home worked on a project building this really neato keano item for a customer in America. He wants a dancing robot that reacts to diffrent beats and genre of songs diffrently. It's suppose to look like a young punk girl dressed in a riped up jeans and a leather jacket." He nods with passion and then grins at Rhys and then back at Morag."I grew bored with keep hitting a snafu when it comes to classical and oldies. Also country the beat just don't work right." His heavy irish accent drifts in and out quickly as he talks fast about the project his eyes sparkling with great delight over the talk even if he is the only one that cares."I shall lick that problem soon and then I shall be all done. Got the gears and all of that to work." He then looks at them both and reads the card around Gwyllgi's neck and then looks at him carefully." I like the title The Scotsman it's neato keano man. What is that?" He falls into a silence as he waits for the answer slowly sipping at his beer with intent eyes staring at the other man.

Morag gives Gwyl a hapless look, then points out gently to Sirus, "You were in Anglesey? That's where we're from. For...uni, so to speak." She can't help but add, "Here's a tip, if you'll take it; telling people you're bored with their conversation is generally considered rather rude. You can always excuse yourself without informing people that you find them dreary, even if you do."

Giving a crooked little smile to Morag, Gwy winks, "I don't see how anyone could get bored of talking to you, dear." The grin that accompanies the flattery is barely contained. The answer to his previous question is surprising, in the 'It's a small world after all' sort of way. There's a lot of too much information evident in the way he looks at Sirus during the over enthusiastic explanation of his recent activities. "The Scotsman is a broadsheet, they're based here in Edinburgh. Old school, printed news papers."

Sirus shakes his head many times back and forth like a kid."No no no I was not bored with you Moragie. Can I call you Moragie. I was bored with this place." He makes a grand sweep of his hand."I want to explore the city and that is best done with others." He rests his head on his hands and look at her with a grin."If I'm bored with someone I normally bow out gracefully and tell them something else. I had two beers and then wanted to see the night life and I failed to find it." He sighs gently and turns to the reporter with a grin."That is mad awesomesauce I love old papers to be honest not a big fan of allthis digital media too easy to edit change track down and etc. I like paper it's more real in a way." He nods and takes a deep breath and then looks back at the woman."I'm truly sorry that I offended you and beg your forgivness. Idon't social much and well I went to uni made no friends and my mentor Dustfinger is a bit of a shut in sorry." He nods softly and looks at her with big puppy pleading eyes like a kid.

"Ooh, you Welsh charmer." Morag dimples at Gwyl, and then looks at Sirus skeptically. "You're forgiven," she says, "But if you ever call me Moragie again, I'll turn you into a toad." Or maybe just make him think he's turned into a toad. Or possess him with a toad spirit. Or give him froggy lips!

"Maybe your potential friends at Uni were similarly confused and thought you found them boring." Gwyllgi points out, after a laugh at Morag's threat. That's something to be stored for future -- annoying -- reference. Not entirely sure that he's been considered 'mad awesomesauce' before, the Welshman stares at Sirus for a long, quiet moment. "You can buy it most places around here." he suggests, helpfully. "Also, I'm sure singing loud Irish songs will be considered fighting words in less classy establishments, so you may want to be careful there."

Sirus nods softly and then looks at them both."So what brings you here? I was told by my mentor this was a pretty niffty scene and so I came here to set up my shop. I shall work on my manners in the future I promise you that." He nods softly and then takes another sip of his beer."I shall try and not sing but I do enjoy doing it so I think it spices up the world and the world can use more of that." He then takes his head off his hands."So what kind of thingies do you write for this paper." He grins from ear to ear."That has to be fun to investigate stuff and interview peeps all willynelly I love to learn and that has to be great to get paid to learn about events people and write about what may someday be history." His eyes light up again in exicment thinking of all the things this reporter may see in his life."That jas to be an amazing job." He starts to nod and waits for the man's answer but keeping his other eye on the other girl hoping she also has an amazing story of why she is here.

"I was born here." Morag says simply. She keeps throwing these bemused glances Gwyllgi's way. Kind of like in The Fly, when they look at the web and it's all 'Help me! Help meeeee!'

"Working at the paper." Gwy's reasoning for moving to Edinburgh is also pretty obvious and unexcting. "Articles about local interest, getting stories off the wire. Nothing too exciting thus far." Catching Morag's look, he doesn't have any ideas except for drinking, raising his glass in encouragement and taking a long swing. With a somewhat neutral expression he looks to the other man once more, trying to be delicate, "You keep saying your mentor, are you in some kind of special program?" It's the sad tone, suggesting some kind of handicap perhaps.

Sirus shakes his head softly and he clams down for a moment taking a more serious tone."Not at all Dustfinger is his name he goes by is all. He found me one of his rare trips around the world. I grew up in a small town in the irish countryside so far out it's not even on the map. He paid for me to go with him to learn about building machines. You could say he was my mentor by that I mean he showed me what I truly enjoyed in life." He takes a long sip of his beer and then looks at them carefully."I was 18 when I meet him and then a bit later we parted ways I went to Uni and then got my degree in Programing and Design. I also learned to weld build sodder and a bunch of others things from him. How to program as well. I can build anything you want if the price is right." He grins at them both."But like you can tell this type of study did not lead me to socialize much that and I truly have no interset in most people. You both seem pretty chill but general I don't connect with people due to the fact. They don't get me and I don't get them." He sighs gently and his eyes have lost a bit of the happy sparkle and his energy seem more focused on explaing."Then DUstfinger told me I shuld come here that I could meet like minded people and that exicted me people that would get along with me." He smiles gently and looks at them."I do apogilze if I have offended you again." He then lapses into silence and sips at his beer watching them carefully.

Morag cocks her head quizzically at Sirus. "You haven't offended, not me at least. You might want to be a bit more careful about imparting information to strangers, though. A name like Dustfinger...wait, isn't that from a book?" There's a pause as her gaze grows distant, and then her eyes snap back into the presence. "Yes. Inkheart. How droll!"

Listening, and listening, Gwyllgi finishes up the rest of his cider by the end of the explanation. To Morag again, "Get you another, darlin'? I think I need something stronger. Like a Jam... A uh. Glenfiddich." Standing, he makes sure his bag is still there and gives a semi-apologetic, 'Be right back' sort of smile. "So, this hermit guy picked you up in Ireland when you were eighteen and took you around the world with him?" Just a hint of skepticism. "As the lady says, life story to strangers in a bar, mate. Cool head now, is it?" That said, he slips to the counter to order a drink for himself - and possibly Morag.

Sirus shrughs gently and sighs."Cause I truly don't care what people think or know about me. I don't care if you belive I don't care of you do. But you treated me like the boy on the short bus. I don't like that at all. So that is all. You said me dumb as a box of rocks and that offended me. So I wanted you to know more.I truly don't care. You once again remind why I don't talk to mere simpltons. This is obivous from the way you dismiss people. I bid you both good night and aideu." He rises to his feet and shakes his head gently."I did apoglize for my rudness but it seems that is behind your high social breed manners. I just be a hick from the backwoods of irland but you high born just don't see a need for me." He then shakes his head."Once again thank you for refirmong my belifs in humanity."

Morag blinks at Sirus, and then looks at Gwyl. "Did either of us ever call him 'short bus'? Or call him dumb as a box of rocks?" Then he's implying they're simpletons, and high breeds and goodness, she's baffled. "What's a short bus?" she whispers to Gwyl in confusion.

Not making it out of the orbit of the table, Gwyllgi gives Sirus an even stare. "See; you say you don't care about what people think about you, but you're leaving because you're offended by what you think we've said about you. I didn't call you dumb, but all this talk about mentors and such is a bit weird, mate." A finger taps against the side of his empty class. "While we didn't call you dumb, you /did/ just call us simpletons." The high social breed bit gets a laugh, "I should tell my old man that being a fisherman in a small village in the arse end of nowhere is high breeding now. He'll be chuffed." A pause, as he rounds the table and leans to Morag, "It's how the Americans transport the mentally handicapped to school." Now he's really going to go get that whiskey. A head shake along the way, just as confounded as the woman.

Sirus shrughs gently and grins."Well have quiet the diction from a low born fishermen have the same doubt you have. Well you two have a great evening I have work to do and well good day to you both as I said. It seems you also fail to underspoken by yourselves the words spoken the syntyx and also the imnplications of facial movement. I once again register what Ithought and now.........Proven in the most scientfic way." His eyes beam with amusent towards these two and he shakes his head gently."No I truly don't care you think it's just I don't daillie with the simpled minded and it offends and cause great irie in my soul. So have a great night maybe you can breed and make more like you people of lesser intelient seem to be good at that these days. I mostly base on the lower grades in school reported each year but that is statstics and that may be hard when one can't even understand their OWN word choice in life. Bye Bye this was not awesomesauce as I thought but rapesuace." He then dashes for the door quickly shaking jos jead and skiping the mintue he is outside the loud irish singing starts again.

Morag continues to stare in bafflement as he departs. "What an unfortunate soul." she says finally, adding, "Now I feel like /I/ need scotch. What's rapesauce?" She looks at the cider gratefully, and without a word, chugs half of it.

There's even more of a slump now when Gwy returns, looking along with her to the door. "I have no idea what just happened." That scotch is already gone. Should've bought two. "I'm reasonably sure that I must be simple minded, because I didn't at all follow anything he just said. I like to think our kids would be pretty smart." The latter added with a crooked smile but it dissolves into another look of bemusement. "Rapsesauce I'm unfamiliar with. Something to do with rapeseed oil, maybe?"

Morag titters, because dammit, that's funny. "Do you think he's...? You know. If he is, god help us."

"That would explain the mentor with the odd name." Gwyllgi's face does a bit of a downward slide into a bit of a forlorn state. "You shouldn't tempt fate like that." he warns, reaching out to rap his knuckles against the wooden table. "I don't think I ever saw him on the island."

"I don't think I did either." Morag admits. "But I hope he doesn't leave the impression of...well, that, on the others here. Anglesey is better than that."

"I think we make a far more representative sample. Proven in the most scientific way. At least, I hope so. Sometimes I don't understand my own word choices." Gwy makes a simpleton face.

Morag had been drinking and has to put her pint down and press her hand to her mouth. Tears form in her eyes, and thankfully she keeps from spewing on him.

"That's definitely your most attractive face." Gwyllgi mentions, giving it an ernest tone as though immediately smitten by nearly being coated in second hand cider.

"Oh, thank you. When I someday become all-powerful I'll try to keep humble by remembering what it feels like to almost have cider come out of my nose." she says. "You watch it, someday you'll be in a compromising position and I'll get to call you on it. Well you know, assuming either of us gain higher than village idiot."

"M-11 in a compromising position? That seems unlikely." It's definitely a smirk there. "I'm sure once you're at the top of the totem pole here, you'll manage to censure my embarassing anecdotes from your shady past." Reaching for his drink, he realizes that it's empty and instead fidgets with the glass. "We'll just have to make sure that the Welsh element succeeds. Perhaps we can band together and find some others with similar interests in how things turn out here."

Other Anglesey-ites who aren't lunatics?" she asks archly. "We're all of us young, in our society, so if we rabble-rouse too much, we'll be squashed like bugs."

"Right, Anglesey-ites with Anglesey interests." Gwy clarifies, giving a more crooked smile. "There's plenty of ways to rabble-rouse without appearing to rabble-rouse. We're good at subtle, honest." A lift of a shoulder, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a business card for Rhys Jones, ace reporter which is slid across. "Something to consider, anyway. We are at least on good terms with the locals, I think the other interests are the main concern. At least that's my understanding. Which gives an advantage. Think about it." Reaching down, he hoists his bag up to his lap, seemingly preparing to be going.

"I'll do that." she promises, plucking up the card. "When I get a mobile, I'll ring you. G'night, Gwy." she says, smiling up at her.

"The twenty first century is knocking." he replies, teasingly as he stands. "Good seeing you again, Morgie. May I call you Morgie?" A little duck as he turns to head out before facing her wrath.

"I will turn you into a newt!" the Scotswoman calls after him, laughing.

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