On Jan 21, 2007, at 3:30 PM, Eris Reddoch wrote:

> JR wrote:
>>> -----Original Message----- From: bounces@phoenyx.net
>>> [mailto:bounces@phoenyx.net] On Behalf Of Bruce Johnson
>>> Sent: Sunday, January 21, 2007 11:00 AM To:
>>> akus@phoenyx.net Subject: Re: [akus] Issac Chowdhury -
>>> Bruce Johnson
>>>
>>> On Jan 20, 2007, at 7:19 PM, Eris Reddoch wrote:
>>>
>>>> About that SOC-3, I wonder if Issac comes from Zhodani,
>>>> or Sword Worlder, space. His accent might give his
>>>> background away. Sword Worlders and their friends are
>>>> going to be very unpopular folks in the Spinward
>>>> Marches at this point in time.
>>> Ahh, thanks, I'll take bookish, socially awkward,
>>> beat-up-by-fellow- street-urchins nerd with poor manners
>>> over being lynched any time.
>>>
>>> Lets say he's got a sword-ish accent. Among the adults in
>>> his young life were some down-on-their-luck Swordworlders
>>> who would entertain the impressionalble 4-year old with
>>> their outlandish tales of heroism and Issac chuckles, a
>>> little too loudly.
>>>
>>> He raises his glass "To sordid stories...we all have 'em,
>>> they're what keeps life from being boring and
>>> predictable. That's a life for groundheads, uh
>>> groundhogs..."
>>>
>>> As he says this, Issac thinks 'That's actually
>>> smooth...wow, she MIGHT not think you're a total dweeb!'
>>>
>>> However, in his haste, slightly tipsy from the beer, and
>>> surprised by his spontaneous eloquence, he raises his
>>> glass too swiftly and a large dollop of beer sloshes out
>>> and towards Merinn...
>>>
>>> OOC> GM can resolve this event, but, remember, He's got a
>>> good Dex, hence a good aim... :-P
>>
>> Merinn's eyes widen as the liquid surges toward her...
>
> With a quick move she slides her chair back and the liquid
> splashes in front of her. Only a few small drops bounce off
> the table onto her clothing. Looking down she sees her shoes
> weren't quite so lucky. There is a large wet spot on the floor
>   and both of her shoes have received a good splatter of beer.
>
> Around the lounge the quiet murmur of voices stops as
> everyone's eyes turn toward you.

Issac turns bright red ."S-s-sorry!" He lunges across the table with  
a napkin, toppling his glass.  "ACK!"  He quickly slaps down his arm  
to stanch the advancing  beer flood. "Sorry!" He grabs the table and  
tilts it away from them as the beer sloshes onto the floor. He  
quickly gabs the glasses to prevent their following, rights the  
table, then sits down with a "Whoof", arm dripping beer.

He looks at Merinn with something panic and acute embarrassment in  
his eyes.

--
Bruce Johnson

"No matter where you go, there you are", B. Banzai