The Deep Shrine

[Gypsie Skripto]

Gypsie breathed deep. This was a big relief. He couldn't handle this situation all by himself, and Doc was the perfect remedy for that. Eris is smiling along him my friend. He clinked his glass. The future is bright, old dog.

---

[Riley Mackenzie]

"I understand this is where the afterparty is!" Announced Riley as he entered the room, sporting his old TAZ robes for this holy place.

The person that entered behind him is wearing robes provided by the Shrine, and he isn't a person in the conventional sense. His name is Shamus, he has a standard robotic chassis, with a large, wide monitor mounted where the head should be, and he's carrying in one of his hands, an old, mostly broken F-23 F.N.O.R.D. unit that allows him to control this temporary patchwork of a body.

He is, however, still a person.

To be sure, one that looks a bit silly in the garments, but very much a person nonetheless.

Shamus waves and says, "Kalisti, lads. I was told there would be hor d'oeuvres.

---

[Gypsie Skripto]

The ex-reporter turned his back and saw Riley coming in. Eris bless us all! I haven't seen an aglomeration as this since the last Council of Zoners! He poured some scotch in another glass and extended it to Riley. Then looking at Doc he said: I take it you two know each other.

---

[Doc Holliday]

"We do indeed, Gypsie," Doc answered. He then addressed him. "Rileym It is good to see you."

He turned back to Gypsie. "Listen, I cannot stay too long as there is much work to do but um...." He paused....thinking. "Now I know that two old friend such as ourselves do not need written agreements but perhaps we should have something. I mean, you know how other people are. It can be quite simple. That way there will be no questions and visitors cannot say things like, Well, that is not your authority and such." He shrugs, "Does this make sense, I mean, just to cover our sixes?"

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Gypsie Skripto]

Definitely. A declaration of partnership. Something that pops up for every ship entering our beloved Baffin saying something of the likes of "Behold! It's dangerous to go alone! But don't worry, MFE and TAZ got your back. Misbehave and we'll have your head! He smiled. You've always been so better than me with diplomatic language. Will you make a draft? I'll sign it on behalf of the POEE.

---

[Shamus 2.0]

Shamus approaches Doc and Gypsie, doing his best to interrupt politely.

"Oi! May I cut in for just a moment?"

"Doc, I really want to thank you for helping Riley help me as you have, but I've experienced a moment of personal clarity on the way here." Shamus pauses a moment to choose his words.

"I've come to realize that the further away I travel from Baffin, the less coherent my mind is. I don't know why that is yet, but, right now I feel the most clear-headed than I have in a long time."

"I can always feel the pull of the Goddess Geode like a north star, and I can't really describe it, but the buzz I feel in my head when I'm here is like a--like a magnetic harmony."

"As far as I'm concerned, I owe you my life, and I'll always have the back of you and yours, but l have to stay here...No. I need to stay."

The robed robotic figure shrugs. "Again, sorry to interrupt whatever you two are talking about."

He turns and takes a few steps towards the mini bar and begins to stare at it, wishing he was physically able to take a shot of tequila.

---

[Gypsie Skripto]

Turning to Shamus, Gypsie said: If it fits, it sits... And the robes fit you, Pope. Welcome back. Baffin shall always be your home. He pulled a hot dog shaped pin out from the inner pocket of his vest. Welcome back to the Church of Eris Esoteric.

---

[The Banger Grim]

'All hands lost. All hands lost. All hands lost.'

These are the words repeating on a loop in the Banger Grimm's head as he brushes past the Brunswick Dockmaster without a word. He already knows the way to the Shrine, and station security silently allow his passage. Once inside, (and alone) he moves to the bar and pours himself a drink. Then another, and another, and another.

'All hands lost. All hands lost. All hands lost.'

...and when the bottle had nothing left to offer him, he threw it across the room, utterly destroying it against a wall, while letting out a primal scream of pain and rage.

'Not good enough. All hands lost. Should have been there. Slow old man. Failure. All hands lost.'

He lunges for another bottle behind the counter, and pours another, and another.

Matthew never noticed Nivek Erieth enter the room.

Without a word, Erieth, clad in his new Pope robes, calmly takes the bottle away from his grandfather and becomes the bartender. There, he lines up three shots of the finest tequila the Brunswick has on hand. One for Matt, one for himself, and one for the dead.

Together, they perform a traditional Gaian mourning ritual with salt, lime and fire.

Nivek squeezes the juice of a slice of lime into the glass for the dead, and sets it aflame. Then, both men lick the area between the their thumb and index finger of their left hands, allowing the salt to stick, and each, now armed with a lime slice of their own, propose a solemn toast to the lost. They raise their glasses, and speak in unison as the flame burns between them:

"The Dead are covered with lime.
The Dead know only one thing:
It's better to be alive."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour passes. Matthew is calm now, but he's been crying, and he feels broken.

"I should have been there. I should have flown my medical ship to 29. If I hadn't taken that damn shuttle, I could have done something in time.

"You don't know that." Nivek said sympathetically. "You're much more a bar manager than a fighter."

"I know, but when I was younger, closer to the age you are now, I..."

He inhaled sharply and refused to continue. Instead, he closed the subject simply by saying: "...I fly The 'SpitalFields for the MFE now, because I have alot to make up for in my life."

Another hour passes as the conversation continues between the old and the young.

"...you remember Bryan and Sarah from Deep Ellum Station?" Matthew asked.

"Yeah. They both worked in fiber optics. They had the coolest dog."

"Aye...Well, I was invited to be one of the groomsmen at their wedding next month, and by the time that slow-ass shuttle made it to Holman, we were delayed there because of the attack in 29. After we received clearance to proceed, and slowed to docking speed at Freeport 6, the carnage floating outside was...disturbing."

Banger took another sharp breath before continuing. "A pair of arms holding hands bumped against my window. it was them, Bryan and Sarah. I recognized the engagement rings."

Nivek deflated. "I didn't know they were recruited to work for the TAZ."



"...Neither did I, until a couple of hours ago."

---

[Gypsie Skripto]

I am sorry for your loss. I am glad I'm not alone. Came here for the same. The old man dressed in fine ceremonial Erisian robes signaled the bartender. I'll have what they're having.

We are not a big community in Baffin. Everyone in the Church knew someone building Poo. He raised his glass and followed the ritual to the letter. He was letting his childhood Cambridge accent show too, but the cowboy hat was not helping. Our old neighbours have a saying for these kind of situations. For those we left behind, they say.

He took his hat off and offered his hand. I am Dr. Van Van Mojo.

---

[The Banger Grim]

"For those we left behind." Banger repeated as he greets the new arrival with a firm handshake. "I like that...Well met, Dr. Van Mojo, I'm Matthew Grim of the MFE."

Once again, Banger is impressed with these Discordians. Van Mojo has shown respect not only to him as a person, but to his culture.

With that thought, as drunk as he is, Matt realizes he's at a deficit.

He closes one eye in order to better focus on all the broken glass on the other side of the room, and sees a blurry silhouette of the bartender who entered quietly with the good doctor, who until now, went completely unnoticed by him.

"Pardon me a moment, Padre Van Mojo, I need to fix something."

He approaches the bartender, and offers to clean up the mess.

The employee politely refuses.

"Sir," Banger insists, "I made this mess, and I will be the one to clean it up!"

The bartender says nothing and transfers possession of the broom and dustpan to the very drunk Gaian with a subtle nod and returns to the bar.

"Mind if we all talk while I work?" asks Matt. "I'm sorry for the damage I've caused in your temple, but I absolutely refuse to allow anyone other than myself to take responsibility for my actions."

---