Making trouble in the neighbourhood [D0, Mid-Evening]

[Sings-With-Purpose]

"Woah there cutter, I didn't say nothing about being aimless without a faction. Just sayin', everyone needs themselves a purpose in life. A faction's just a bunch of people with the same general outlook on the planes, and that outlook then primes 'em to fix themselves a purpose. That's all. It helps to have like-minded folk around, y'know? But hey, if you have it in mind to do things your own way, ain't no Godsman gonna tell you otherwise. Not like we're a bunch of Hardheads."

She shrugged, giving him another friendly enough smile. He might not like anyone very much, but she had a habit of ignoring such things.

"I'm a tad curious, then. What do *you* think it all means? The planes that is. And where does *your* aim lead you? Honest question, cutter."

[Ikkit the Bastard]

"I think it doesn't much matter what it means. Might be the Bleakers have the dark of it and none of it means a damn thing."

His tone, however, indicated that his opinion of the Bleakers wasn't better than his opinion of anyone else.

"Makes no difference. We all gotta live here. Getting snagged on how 'things should be' or 'what does it all mean?' is a great way to end up in the dead-book with a stupid look on your face and a bunch of berks standing around talking about how they can't believe you're gone. Better to just get on with living."

He weighed his empty drinking vessel again, then set it back down.

"Kinda like the Lady, really."

Was that... respect? Well, he plainly wasn't completely insane.

"She is. Beyond that, nothing about her matters. Good enough for me. I've always had what I need in Sigil, and if I have to put up with a bunch of addle-cove philosophy clubs in the process, well, nothing's perfect. And it shouldn't be."

[Fyne]

"You are too. As is everyone else. Just because you can't ascribe a purpose or motive doesn't mean there isn't one. That's like saying you can't see someone behind a door so they must not be there."

[Ikkit the Bastard]

Ikkit favored the elf with a long, level stare.

"Yeah, they'll rope you in, Clueless. You're just the type. It's not that I can't make up some little reason, some fairy story about the why of things. It's that I don't. Because it doesn't matter."

[Fyne]

"If none of it matters, why have a beer or throw a punch or even go to a bar with other people? You're getting something out of it or you'd stop doing it. So something about it matters to you. And just because you're not curious doesn't mean other people aren't. And you definitely know that by now because you seem to like talking to people. You're doing it so well!" Fyne replies with a smirk.

[Ikkit the Bastard]

"Don't recall that I said nothing matters, berk. Might want to be careful whose bone-box you go putting words in."

[Sings-With-Purpose]

"If nothing matters, you'd be a bleaker, that it?" she said with a chuckle, "Suppose maybe there's just a stubborn streak to ya, imagining that signing up with anyone is signing away self-reliance or some such. Self-reliance is a mighty fine thing to have, cutter. Don't mean you can't share a path with others. Even the Bleakers do that."

[Ikkit the Bastard]

Ikkit had already been far too forgiving, he could see.

These two berks thought they were in the Lady's, Clerk's, or Market Ward, that much was plain- they thought casual disrespect was something they could get away with. The clueless, well, he plainly knew no better, it was right in the name, but this Godsman bard who wanted to slum it in the Hive Ward should have done her research.

So he decided to educate her, swinging his empty mug right at her face, then followed up by reversing the stroke to strike at her chest, adding yet another swing toward the side of her head that was a fair bit less accurate in its delivery

Then he hopped off of the bar, getting his back to the door and tossing the shattered mug aside, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"Pike it while y'can."

[OOC: Sorry... Ikkit operates under prison yard rules, and feels intensely disrespected by what he sees as smug, oblivious condescension from the two other PCs present

Since it's Day 0, possibly a result of OOC misreading on one or more sides, and I don't feel like rolling actual damage, just assume that the first hit that lands is bolstered by his Fury of the Small and his Favored Foe bonus for an extra 1d6+9 fluff damage, if that third sloppy swings hits, it adds another 1d8 fluff damage, then he uses Nimble Escape as a Free Action to Disengage and get some space between him and them using his 35' ground speed.

Post-ambush round Initative is 25]

[Sings-With-Purpose]

Sings certainly wasn't expecting that. That is to say, she'd expected the earlier tavern brawl, maybe a bit of a light mugging attempt on her way to and from the perfomance. Usual hive stuff. She had *not* been expecting to get attacked like that just for a bit of friendly post-performance banter. S'pecially since she'd gone and tried to understand his viewpoints rather than just outright tell him he was wrong.

So she hadn't seen the mug coming when it hit her in the face. Nor did she manage to keep him from following it up with more strikes, all of them hitting.

She stared at him, a little bewildered as he got his back to the door. Her hand went to her instrument, grabbing hold of it just in case there'd be more of that nonsense. A frown sat on her face, her free hand checking her jaw.

"Oi, what in the nine hells is wrong with you?! We was just talking friendly-like!"

Sings was of half a mind to show the goblin what a real lesson felt like, but she knew that was just anger talking.

[Fyne]

"Guess he just doesn't know how to keep up intellectually so he lashed out with violence," Fyne says, hurling an insult rather than an attack. "Guess we see the real reason he doesn't like most people. He can't have a conversation without freaking out apparently."

Lirrax screeches at him, but then falls over because she's drunk. She finds her way to her feet.

He turns to Sings. "You alright? That wasn't even a friendly brawl, just a straight attack."

He shouts to Ikkit, "You're missing the point of this place. I've been here just a few weeks and I get it. You're worse than a new berk like me."