Mouse walks out.... (2)

6th shakes her head, grinning evilly. She walks around the pool table, looking for a good shot. She brushes by SWORD once, quite close, "'Scuse me, sugar!" then makes her way around the table again. Finally, she stops in front of SWORD.

"Hmmm, this looks like a good one." she says, leaning over. She glances behind her, at SWORD. "You might want to move back a bit if you're gonna stand there." 6th grins, and lines up her shot. Before she shoots, she says. "Oh, by the way, the stakes are the same, just so you know." 6th takes the shot, deliberately missing.

"Oh well, I guess a bet's a bet." She smirks up at SWORD who is staring at her, redder than usual, as he realizes he had SOMEHOW just been set up in the worst way. 6th grins, and pulls her cut-off shirt over her head.

6th flings her shirt over her shoulder, tossing her head, and looks at SWORD. He had snapped his pool cue in half, and had this glazed look on his face.

"Still wanna play, sugar? Or can you handle anymore?" 6th bites the side of her lip, and giggles. She hooks her thumb through her bra strap. "Too bad I didn't go completely commando, huh? So, you gonna shoot, Sugar?" 6th says to SWORD.

SWORD shakes his head no, No, NO! He prepares to gesture and notices the broken poolstick, which he tosses at the laughing Ragnar, who dodges the pieces with expressions "Hey" and "Watch it, bud!" before collecting the pieces and disposing of them in the fireplace.

Upon regaining the use of his tongue (that he was biting), SWORD as he grabs his jacket from a bar stool. "Those are NOT the same stakes, 6th!" he admonishes. "You can only take off an article of clothing IF I sink a ball, not if you miss."

6th nodes and sets up for a shot. She sinks the 4 ball in the corner pocket. "Solids," she says and teases at SWORD. He looks down at himself and feels it is rather unfair that he had to start this game at the same deficit as the last game but pulls off a sock and puts it in one of his boots. 6th takes another shot but only manages to mix the balls up a little with three solids clustered in one corner. SWORD rechalks his poolstick and examines the table.

"So your solids..." he says and sets up for a shot and pulverizes the cue ball with a hard shot into the corner that sinks two solids, scratches, and finally set the third solid creeping to the nearby corner where it teeters and then plops in the pocket.

"Uh uh," SWORD says shaking his head and handing her the cue ball. "Doesn't count. I sunk three of your balls and scratched. My loss, your turn."

6th frumps but sets up for another shot. There just isn't anything available. She banks but only makes some noise. SWORD takes over, sees a situation, and nods. He slams 3 ball and the 10 ball in the upper righthand corner pocket. 6th begins to tug at the zipper again. SWORD holds up a hand.

"...and I both sank a solid at the same time, so it does not count," he corrects her, forcing her to play the right game and then adds, "Just keep your shirt on, kiddo."

6th growls at him, bumps him out of the way, and sinks another solid. Off comes the other sock, leaving SWORD standing in his black denim jeans.

"Neither?" she says and then kicks herself for missing the shot. Giggles erupt from the three ladies. Ragnar looks surprised. TickTick rolls her eyes, the only one to understand what SWORD is really saying.

"Shucks," he says feigning concerns. "It's just not my night, is it?" He smirks, sits on the couch beside Tick, and begins to put his doffed apparel back on his body while the three girls talk amongst themselves.

Ticker rolled her eyes again. "Having seen you frolic on the front lawn in a BROWNIE induced haze selling Warp & Grills, I definitely know the answer to the question of Boxers or Briefs."

Tick taps him on the arm. "He did what Godallmitey told him to do, took off all his clothes, and shouted to the sky Come and get me! or something like that."

SWORD just winks at his big buddy, who getting the gist of the idea begins laughing out loud. He slaps SWORD on the back, thinks of jostling his hair, but then remembers the bruised noggin.

"No way am I playing Uno with an Uno guru." 6th says, pulling her shirt back over her head. She holds out the jacket to SWORD , then changes her mind and pulls it back on as well. (;-P SWORD, I have been out with too many wanna-be rockers to not be used to wearing a heavy leather jacket!)

The others start disscussing the pros and cons of either dancing, or Uno, while 6th stands, thinking about how this place seems to bring out her baddest, most wild side (or is it all the SoCo?). She slides her hands into the pockets of SWORD's jacket.

SWORD jumps to his feet. "Oh no you don't!" he cries out. 6th darts away, giggling. As she runs from the now extremely worried SWORD, she begins to read the book to herself.

"Sword, Wow! I had no idea that's what you've been thinking! And here, I thought this book was just in your head..." she laughs, easily eluding SWORD as he tries to grab the book back from her.

"6th, really, if you're going to root through that thing, turn to page XXVIII," SWORD says as he walks nonchalantly towards her his thumbs in his pockets. "Go straight for the interesting stuff I've learned."

6th stops, and flips through the book, trying to ascertain what XXVIII means--oh yeah, it's Roman numerals for 28. Before she knows it SWORD is directly beside her, grabs the front of the jacket, spins her around in front of him, taking the booklet from her hand, and then executing a dip. He pockets the notebook.

"It's for your own good, you know," he tells her matter of factly. "My thoughts are so chaotic that the average human would go friggin bonkers trying to read that scrawl."

"Rats!" she mutters, stalking back to the bar, and pouring herself a huge glass of water. She drinks half of it down, and leans against the bar, watching SWORD intently.

*humph! Average human being my a**!* 6th is quite discouraged by the turn of events. So she walks around the the couch, and sits down by Tick, pulling out a battered copy of "The Art of War".

"Ahh, well, I'm just bored. This whole "No Farscape" thing has been driving me batty." 6th sighs. She makes a point of not looking over at the others dancing.

It looks like the group has chosen to start dancing again, and that leaves the table pretty open. Mouse decides to play her favorite made-up game. Two balls go in front of every pocket, side-by-side, and the remaining three balls get lined up - two on the spots, and one in the middle of the table. The object is to get all the balls in with the least amount of shots.

With so many balls near the pockets, you'd think it would be easy to just drop them all in. But experience shows us that that is not always the case. What I like about this game is that it forces you to shot combination shots, which I need to practice.

from his ears after the earth shattering break Mouse has given the balls. Walks to the table and examines his balls. (Yeah, Yeah, I am sure EVERYONE can have fun with that one!!!)

Mouse watches as Spyral puts in his bank shot, and lines up the nine. She'll have to see exactly how good he is before she decided if he needs any distraction. She goes and stands next to Ragnar who is watching the proceeding with interest.

She really likes that her friends her in the ballroom will give her a break from being the "keep-it-all-together" girl she has to be IRL and let her relax.

Quietly whispers to Ragnar the Viking, "Give her one of those 'Potions'," he says with a wicked grin. Turning back to see Mouse sink the five with her miraculous bank-shot, he quickly turns back to the big Viking. "Make it a big one," he amends...

Mouse misses an attempt at the two off the three and wanders over to Spyral to hand him the cue. "Here you go, angel. Give it your best shot!"

His eyes widen and a bit of blush creeps into his cheeks and ears. *Wow Mouse* he thinks to himself *I never knew there was so many...colorful...drink names. I wonder exactly what kind of behavior they encourage.*

His eyes got really wide when they came to the ----job listing and one for on the beach! Closing the book a little hard he tries to small at the glances that act attracts.

Deciding to look up just that one drink he quickly mixs together what he thinks are the right porportions, blending them together like any good cook would a few pinchs of salt...There that should do it. *Well with all that stuff in it it ought to do something!*

Mouse looks at Spyral, then at Ragnar, and thinks to herself *If these guys are conspiring, I’m in big trouble. But I don’t think they would hurt me, at least not on purpose...*

Mouse slurred. After her second SMALL sip of that drink, Mouse noticed her eyes were acting a little funny. She tried to focus, and saw 6th come in.

"6th! My pal! My buddy! How are you?" Mouse tripped towards 6th in an attempt to hug her, but ended up wrapped around Spyral's wing. "Hey, you're not 6th!" Mouse said. She spun around and landed in Spyral's arms. "Geez, you are really big on hugs, aren't you? That's ok, I guess.." Mouse trailed off. She made a valiant effort to get to 6th, but her feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. "Iz thiz the way you have to win? Hey, ok by me!" Mouse belatedly realizes she's still hugging Spyral, and tries to move away, but once again, her feet won't move.

"What did you put in thiz," Mouse shouted at Ragnar. "Where is he!" Mouse yelled. Her eyes were NOT working correctly - she was seeing X-rays of everyone! She decided to stay where she was. Spyral was looking at the crowd like *what am I suposed to do here* and settled just to hold Mouse up. "Maybe we can find you a chair," Spyral suggested. "Can't. Feet not working." Mouse declared.

Ragnar watched 6th sip from the pitcher, feeling a bit proud that he might have gotten something right here. He's been awful clumsy of late. That was when he noticed Mouse's new behavior.

Now some people may think him to be a twit, or even a little slow at times but he's had enough experience by now to know the signs. He loved his Scaper gals dearly but he could see the writing on the wall. His mind wanted to scream comspiracy!

Who you kidding Ragnar? We need to bottle this stuff for sale. Not to be used by us or anything. And certainly not on the lovely ladies of the ballroom.

Looks down at the limp and getting limpier body of Mouse who hangs in his arms. She has probably the loopiest grin on her face that this angel has ever seen.

"YYYYOUUUUUUUUU OOOOOOOOOKAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY?" Mouse hears Spyral ask. As she watches his head splits first into three, then six and they begin to circle each other slowly. She giggles to herself, "Six wings....you've...[giggles]...got six wings....[giggle]...that's threeeeeeeee pair." [she holds up three fingers for Spyral to see just in case he cannot comprehend.] She smiles again, as if trying with all her might to show every tooth in her mouth.

"Wheeeereeees...my frink?" She peeks under Spyrals wing, as if it just might be there. Lets it flop down onto her head, where it stays like a white down hat.

6th asked, taking another swig of the stuff Ragnar had handed her. It had a really odd color, and the smell...well, it wasn't the most pleasant of odors. But it tasted wonderful!

"That stuff your drinking is what's up with Mouse." Rag replied. 6th looked at Ragnar, down to the pitcher of brew, and back up at the Viking.

"Let me get this straight. You gave some of this to Mouse, saw what it did to her and then gave some TO ME??? You Know how...ahem...'excitable' I get when I'm drunk off of NORMAL stuff...and you gave me THIS? What, do you have a death wish or something?" 6th felt like she ought to be pissed. But she looked over at Ragnar, who looked rather ashamed of himself. She just sighed and shook her head, walked over to the viking, and patted his head.

"S'alright Rag, don't feel bad...I don't know what you were thinking...but it's alright. Just try and..."6th shook her head to try and clear it. She was getting fuzzy. "Try and...keep me out of trouble, ok?" 6th felt herself begin to get really light headed.

"Ok, Rag? Here's where you need to keep me from cracking my head on the floor..." 6th trailed off as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she began to slump down.

Ragnar picked 6th up, carried her over to the couch and layed her out in what sould pass as a comfortable position. Brushing her hair back from her face he covered her with a blanket doing his best to make her comfortable. Hard telling how long she would be out.

Ragnar smiled and shook his head. "Well Spyral she's really quite a doll, and probably more gentle at heart then she gets credit for but when she gets to drinking...."He let the sentence trail on for a bit. "....lets just say she can get to be a handful."

Ragnar rambled on as he went back to the bar. "Actually selling this stuff might be a pretty good idea. I wonder if we'd make more with the antidote or the actuall agent." He droaned on...

"You mean, she thinks she IS a character in one of those plays?" Spyral gulped as 6th stood up and wrapped one arm around Spyral's waist.

"I don't thinks she wants me to go...If I tried to I'd probably just piss her off, and who KNOWS who she might start channeling then!" Spyral sighed. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck being the object of 6th's adoration, at least until Ragnar's brew wore off, or she started channeling someone else!

While Sixth continues her Shakespearean wooing of Spyral, Mouse has managed to slide off of the chair and onto the floor. Where she attempts to crawl toward Spyral by first flopping one limp hand forward, then another looking as though her arms were made of spaghetti, and pulling herself forward along the floor.

Spyral , who is having enough problems trying to keeps Sixths hands off of him, as she continues her tirade, sees Mouse heading towards him and suddenly feels more fear then he has in the last six hundred years.

Mouse is getting closer and her grin has become impossibly wider. "Harrrrrrrrk the Heraaaaaaaald Angellllllllls Siiiiingggg"," she sings sweetly.

Ragnar pops up from behind the bar, spilling bottles everywhere. "We gotta problem," he says holding up to empty bottles. "We're missing some stuff. "

Spyral alternates between placing Sixths' hands at her sides and rebuttoning his shirt. "I DON"T CARE JUST ......SUBSTITUTE! IT CERTAINLY AN'T MAKE THINGS ANY WORSE!"

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will,

"And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

Mouse seems to quiet down, and the guys look at each other. "What was that all about?" Ragnar asks. "Ya got me, except now I think she thinks she's my boss." Spyral replies with a laugh.

"Pulp fiction! That's where I remember it, or at least something like it. The one hit man would recite it to all his victums just before he was about to..."

to see what's up. 6th is quoting the Bard and can't seem to keep her hands off of Spyral. Mouse seems to be quoting the bible, and Ragnar is at the bar frantically mixing drinks.

"Uh, Ragnar. I think they've had enough." She picks up a nearly full glass and quaffs the contents down. "OH YEAH! That's nice. Whasinit?" She grins, Spyral, you need some help there? Or are you enjoying all the attention?"

"GIMME THAT!" Ragnar grabs the glass from Rae, and upends it as if to see if she really has drained it. He looks to Spyral, who only stares back in terror, as a temporarily forgotten Sixth begins to rub her hands thru his hair. "THIS IS GETTING OUT OF HAND!" the big viking shouts diving back behind the bar.

Mouse has regained a sitting position and is now shouting to the world her intentions to "Divest herself of her Wordly Goods and walk the Earth,...like Kane in Kung-Fu!

"Welllllllll!", Spyral hears from the direction of the bar. "I'm feeling a little...mmmmMMMMMM!.....Ragnar! Now WHAT! are you doin behind there all by your little lonesome?" Raes voice purrs. "ROWRRR!" she shouts, diving behind the bar.

doing his best effort at a fast crawl loosing traction Ragnar scurries out from behind one end of the bar. An outstretched arm just misses catching him by the ankle.

Rae pops up from behind the bar preening her feathers. Her fingers are steady stroking the fuzzy down. She looks pouty. "What's da midder Raggynar?" She says in a coy petulent voice.

Ragnar has gained his feet and spins around, one arm and a errect finger between him and Rae. He stumbles backwards as she steps forewards.

Rae pauses, swaying, Her eyes, glaze, focus and unfocus. "we..wess I member dat." she stuttered. "oun't ya like ma erty eathers? soft. Wanna touch?" She lurched foreward turning her head and offering a fine specimin for it appraisal and leisure.

She says "Very well, where should I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims, like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. A sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. If I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, really."

Ragnar attempt to dash under the pool table, but he gets a little too close to Sixth, who has let go of Spyral and takes the opportunity to snag Ragnar.

Spyral attempts to dash away, only to have Mouse reach out and snag his ankle before he can take two steps. "E's not gowin nowhere" Mouse says.

"ooooOOOOOoooo" he hears from above. "aallen at myeye feeet to worsip me. Eye ike it." Spyral looks up just in time to meet eye to eye with Rae , who lowers herself to the floor, meeting his gaze. "Wha r u dun dowin ere N-gel? she giggles. She touches his nose with a finger, "Cum fee?" she giggles again.

Spyral moves his head enough to see Ragnar now engulfed by Sixth whose two hands seem like six at the moment. Unbelievabley, the big Viking seems outmanned at the moment.

And Mouse is on the move again! Singing in her sweetest voice, that she is "Looking for a Soft Place to Fall" she lays her head on Spyrals wing and begins running her fingers thru the soft down.

"Come on, Mousey. Is no fair! You already have a guy..." Rae starts sniffling, and the minute Mouse lets her guard down, she grabs Spyral. "MY ANGEL!" She bellows. "MINE, MINE, MINE!"

Rae comes back a few minutes later and once more liberates Spyral from Mouse. She walks him over to the bar. "Black coffee would be nice, Spyral. I don't usually drink that much. Guess it didn't agree with me." Rae giggles, embarressed. "Hey, what's Ragnar doing with 6th? And why is he enjoying it so much?"

convulsion, and opens her eyes. She looks around and shakes her head. She can't remember what went on after she drank that drink that Ragnar gave her. For some reason, Rae is glaring at her, and Sixth seems to be hugging Spyral for all she's worth.

"Me? Come on. It's going to take a lot more than one glass of something called..." Rae walks over to the bar and looks at the recipie book. "'Kiss of Death' to get ME drunk. I was just getting into the spirit of things. Pool?"

"NO! No pool! I get into too much trou..." she looks down, and realized exactly where and who she is sitting on, where her hands have strayed, and what she was apparently trying to do.

"Oops! Sorry, Ragnar! How did I get up here on your chest?" 6th leaped nimbly down off the big viking, her face bright red. She took a step towards Spyral, and watched in embarrassment as the angel knocked over a chair in his haste to get away from her.

"What...what happened? What did I do?" 6th asked aloud. She caught sight of the now empty pitcher. It all came back to her. She sighed heavily, and plopped back down on the couch beside Ragnar. He scrambled, and 6th sighed again.

Rae laughs as she hands 6th a tall glass of water. "It was getting fun in here for a while. Can't believe I missed most of it." Rae tears the page with the recipie out of the book. "Just keep that..."

in incredulity as he makes his way silently to the bar. He briefly considers taking the paper from Rae and shredding it, but lets the idea go and simply plops down on the nearest stool.