#truly amusing

Locke sat down next to her like a good jester he was and chuckled. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to be fed to the beasts, hm?” He poked her and added: “Though they wouldn’t get much to chew on, maybe cut their maws at max.” There was a short wave at the bartender accompanied: “I’ll have whatever she’s having. With a straw.”

He chuckled at her and turned around to get the other two darts. One landed two steps behind him and other…. Where was the other? Oh there it was, it stuck in a branch. Locke was tall, so he grabbed the later easily but he had to bend over for the first one.

He handed her both of them. “Your poison, ma’am,” he cooed and then, seeing the wall is unoccupied, he declared it his new seat. He had been standing all day long and his feet were sore.

Letting him drop the darts into her outstretched hand, she narrowed her eyes at him, unsure really what to make of him. Handsy, mischievous fellow. But harmless, surely. Skilled in some ways, and therefore useful. Still... what a tricky fool. Dropping her weapons back into their pouch, she straightened her hat.

He lost balance, because most of his weight was rested on Morven who suddenly wasn’t where she was before, what happened? Locke ended up face first one the ground. He rolled over to be on his back instead.

“Awh, c’mon, ma’am. ‘Twas juss’ a… Juss’ a…” Whatever it was, the Jester had to be drunk out of his mind, that was most likely what it was. “’Twas juss’ a hug. Juss’ a frien’ly thin’.”

It was pretty clear that the fool was blind drunk. She might have considered that the sole reason for his presumptuous behaviour, and yet, she’d seen him sober. This was worse, but not unusual. 

Locke: “You are just envious nobody is squeezing *you.*”