Week 2, Sunday Evening; Barnham

[alcobrawlic]

[ It's actually the first time she's stepped foot in the saloon today. She's perhaps had a long day with killing a man (sword), giving his sword (self?) to someone else, and dealing with everything else, up to and including the death of someone else she hadn't known at all.

But Sara's put up enough strength for everyone else today, she thinks, and as the sky finally grows dark, she pushes open the saloon doors.

... And pauses, blinking. ]

You can't tell me you're here just to investigate.

Comments

[alcobrawlic]

... I have.

[ That sounds exactly like the members of the Imperial Liberation Front, in their own way. ]

[moraled]

[... ugh.]

There was never any intention behind us finding the truth the moment we stepped into that room.

Even one of our own was thwarting us.

[alcobrawlic]

At the very least, we found someone with a role.

[ So all's not completely lost, even though she's not at all happy with how things went. ]

[moraled]

... A role that does not stick.

[So really, it feels somewhat pointless.]

He was undeniably guilty--but even so, a murderer remains on the loose.

[alcobrawlic]

You don't have to remind me.

[ She's clearly not happy about any of this. ]

[moraled]

[... right.]

... Of course. You have handled...far more than your share of the burden today.

My apologies.

[alcobrawlic]

[ Sara slowly shakes her head, staring into her mug. ]

I can't say I've ever been thanked by someone for killing them.

[moraled]

Pah. He was a coward.

[That's...all Barnham can think of him, really.]

Thanking you for that as he put you in that situation to begin with...it is absurd.

[alcobrawlic]

Absurd enough to make even you drink, huh?

[moraled]

... I suppose it is.

[He can't deny that.

This entire thing is...]

I am not certain yet...how to stop this from happening. Nor...how to restore justice to this town.

[alcobrawlic]

There's got to be a way... other than waiting for information to fall into our laps.

[moraled]

Indeed. I believe it has become explicitly clear... we cannot afford to wait any longer. Lives are at stake.

[alcobrawlic]

The problem is, where to go with this... the new things aren't that easy to investigate.

[moraled]

[... That is the problem, isn't it.]

I fear... after this, it shall grow all the more challenging.

[Too much blood has been spilled to go back now.]

[alcobrawlic]

You're right... but you're not the type to back down from a challenge anyway.

[moraled]

Certainly not. That... is something I cannot do. It would be far too cowardly for me to tolerate.

[alcobrawlic]

Good! Then hold onto that mindset, because we're gonna need it. Beer will only get you so far.

[moraled]

I would say that alcohol does not get you far at all.

[EVEN IF HE IS DRINKING... honestly, Sara, way to ruin the mood.]

[alcobrawlic]

That depends on the occasion.

But it takes the edge off, doesn't it?

[moraled]

[He just lifts his glass, a faint, sardonic twist to his mouth.]

Though I am not certain, in this case, the edge should be worn down even a small amount...yes, it has.

[alcobrawlic]

Trust me, taking the edge off doesn't mean dulling yourself. Half the time, it helps you think.

[moraled]

... Perhaps.

[If nothing else, he thinks they need this.]

I believe at this point it is quite clear what I would "prefer" is hardly something that matters here.

[alcobrawlic]

Aww, don't worry! At some point, I'm sure it will.

[ Maybe. ]

[moraled]

Here?

[He snorts.]

Don't make me laugh.

[Also how much have you drank, Sara.]

[alcobrawlic]

I bet you'd have a nice laugh, though.

[ About six mugs, why do you ask ]