|Of Drinks and Deities|
Zelgadis might not make the best of 'conversational parters' neccessarily, but he's...there at least. Sipping sake in the corner of the bar proper, a hood adorns and subsequently covers a good majority of his face as well. Boy, this guy needs some originality, huh? He does make the motions of peering over at the new arrival with a mild look on what of his face remains visible,
A brisk, brusque chill that does interesting things to evil-touched armor. When one burns the heart of a daedra into the raw living metal, does it feel pain? It certainly conveys cold- warmed by body heat, undoubtedly, but quickly crisped by cold. He shivers in the depths of his armor, his eyes squinted faintly against the faint wind. The cheery colors of the light just made it all so much worse, and he found himself grimacing, bracing his shoulders against the chill before the Usual Restaurant offers it's solace against both cheery colors and chill, and then he's in, releasing a slow breath into his hands. "Bah, colder than a Nord's tit out there. Blasted weather."
Urus takes a hand and whisks away the hood covering his hyena like head and turns his head to the one who sits near. "Hello, who are you, If I can ask" he says in his normal, thick Russian accent. He reaches under the sweatshirt and pulls out his submachine gun and places it on the bar. He then takes said garment off, Revealing the furred but slightly bulky body underneath, along with the bandolier and a small plastic communicator. That's the exact reason why he bought the clothing in the first place; it hid his more war like gear from those who are more cautious. He turns when he hears the orc's complaint. "Try space some time, that is colder than. . . " He pauses to try to figure out what the man had just said. After a second though easily gives up and finishes "whatever you just said" If there was one thing that he had learned in the short time he had been there was that there were a LOT of different ways of speaking depending on what realm you came from.
Zelgadis tilts his head slightly, regarding Urus as he goes through the motions. At the time, he says nothing. Addressing the firearm with a curt glance, he doesn't seem TERRIBLY plussed by it, at the moment. Looking back over at Urus he seems to be about to respond to the question at hand when he decides to once again pause as Urus responds to Gogron's prior assertation. He finally offers a hard to see, half-smile of sorts and speaks, "Zelgadis Greywers. At your service."
A bit of a barking laugh, trailing off in something... just a bit confused. "I, keep forgetting none of you are, what could be considered local. Erm. No. It has the heart of a being of, great darkness melted into the metal itself. While it does not have a mind or soul per-se, if any armor had an opinion, it'd be- okay well if any would, it'd probably be the dwemer armors, come to think of it. That stuff's probably haunted. BUT, barring that, for negativity? Daedric." But then there's shouting around and there is, for a moment, a look, a hint, a spark, a flare of just, absolute, madness, there. This man isn't proud, he isn't arrogant, isn't fight-happy or short tempered. He's... insane.
Those impressive nostrils flare, and he flashes a sneer of a smile. "Oh. A joke. Haha. Very funny, yes." His fingers creak on the handle of the axe.
The axe comes out here, and the butt THUDS on a nearby table. He's sort of, quivering? Maybe he's not finding it funny. Maybe not. Probably not. His words were actually still amicable, but it's a shivery, forced thing. "I don't know them. I don't know anyone but the Lord Kotal and a handful of drifting dreams." His hand creaks on the axe, but after a bit he walks towards the bar and, laboriously, manages to sit down on his stool. His eyes are red rimmed and just a bit crazy. "Don't know no Harley Quinn. Only Lord Kotal, who has delivered me from this place and given my life structure. He has told me I am not fallen, and I cannot doubt the word of a god." A deep, shaky breath.
The fact that the Orc had no info on Harley is not surprising, it seems to be a recurring event. Ask about Harley, absolutely no information. Oh well, sooner or later he will find her, and when he does there is going to be hell to pay. He listens carefully, until Kotal's name is brought up. He snickers, then bursts into hyena like laughter again for about 5 or 6 seconds. "whoo! I am sorry, but believe me when I say that Kotal is not best man to listen to. He is most arrogant, self-serving man I have met. He makes me look good in comparison. He may be a god, but he is far from someone to trust for long." as he finishes the statement the drinks come by. He holds one for himself, and one out to the orc, raising his in toast. "To the art of Battle!"
"The god is just as mortal as you or me, he is the one who should learn." Urus remarks and is actualy heated in the argument in religion. Which is very strange for him, but the personal connection to the person in question is feeding the anger. the dismissive gestures forces him to roll his eyes, but then he does a double take when the Orc seems to be having a personal problem. His full attention and new curiosity raised, the Hyena waits, hoping to see what sort of mystery the orc is trying to hide.
His snarl is weak, his eyes mostly closed, a hand before his face. His mutter is thin and a little reedy. "It matters, not, right now. If he has, umbrage with you he will, have, umbrage with you himself." He looks towards the door, a certain strange manic shiver to him. "I have to go." A laborious swallow, his throat jumping, and he grunts, looking at the hyenaman with wide, slightly dilated eyes.
As Gogron dismisses himself there is a look of burrowing curiosity from Urus. A penetrating look that attempts to find what he is looking for, but to no avail. There is something about this Orc, this warrior that he fears within himself. He will have to meet up again with this heavily armored warrior. For the first time his curiosity of the realm has overwhelmed him. He is going to be pondering this man for a while. He lets the man go, for now. If it is something to which Urus knows well in himself to get enrobed in anger or combat to the point of senselessness, he may be able to help this green figure. This is an expedition to do on one's own time. If anyone would know, it's the one they were fighting about. . .Kotal.