Garrus stumbled drunkenly into Falkreath, a hip flask that was haphazardly tied to his waist swung as he walked. Dirt caked his body, visible through the the cuts in his armor. His hair, a long tangled mess of black, fell carelessly down his back and into his face. The face that it fell into was set in a permanent scowl. He stumbled forward, more drunk than he had ever been in his life. He slowly approached the tavern, the loud rumble of the voices inside building in intensity as he drew closer. His hands scrambled for the door, lazily pushing it open as he slumped against it in a desperate move to remain standing. That delicate balance was abruptly ruined as the shock wave of noise blasted into his ears. Of course, it might not have been so loud in actuality - but everything seemed incredibly loud and dramatic for the immensely drunk Garrus.
He stumbled forward, his face solidly colliding with the wooden boards. A loud groan could be heard from his mouth, slurred to the point of inaudibility. He pushed himself up, proceeding to move forward in a manner closer to shuffling than to walking. Pushing through the crowd of people and their double images, he moved forward toward his objective, a seat at a nearby table. His drunken tunnel vision managed to skip over the fact that the seat was right next to Elsa, Garrus' second most hated person at the time. So he pressed on, until his hand grasped the wooden bench and he half-sat, half-hauled himself onto it. He slumped forward onto the table, pulling a huge bottle of whiskey out of his pack. He looked to his right, his eyes locking onto the face of the Nord woman who sat next to him.
"Oh gods..." The words came out in a drunken slur, although the fear was evident in his face. Which was rather odd for him.
He fell off the bench, crawling away from her.
"Please Elsa, don't kill me..." He stumbled, his arms falling out from under him. His face once again crashed into the floor, this time leaving a large bruise on his right cheek. But he got back up and ran (stumbled, in a more accurate way), determined to get away from her. He made it away, taking refuge under one of the tables on the other side of the room. He thought he was hiding well, but in reality, he was as blatantly evident as a tower on an empty field.
---
Sorex walked into Falkreath, the hints of a smile on his face. He wasn't quite sure by what divine magic had him walking once again upon the ground, but he was glad for it. That said, there were a few side-effects. Namely, he was marginally transparent. Luckily it seemed as if he could still consume food and drink, so his first destination was the Falkreath inn. He was adorned with his typical Thieves Guild armor, and his hair had inexplicably grow a bit longer since his death. Of course, his bangs still hung down in his face, necessitating his habit of pushing it out of his eyes.
He ascended the steps, placing his hand upon the door to the inn. The small cracks and patterns in the wood were still felt by his cold, dead hand. He pushed it open, greeted by the heat and commotion of the inn. A few faces he knew met his eyes. Elsa was sitting at a table and Farth was present. Garrus was also at a table, albeit under it. He was also more drunk than Sorex had ever seen anyone before. He moved over to Garrus' table, crouching down and peering under it. "Garrus?" The man turned his head, squinting to see Sorex. "Sorex? Oh crap, I'm really drunk..." He took another swig from a mead bottle that he had probably stolen off of a table. Sorex stood again. He knew better than to speak with Garrus while he was drunk, from past experience. He scanned the room, finding Elsa in the crowd. While his reappearance was sure to bring up sorrow, that wasn't enough to make him stop wanting to talk to old friends. Elsa was particularly devastated after Sorex's death.
Ignoring that thought, he moved over to where she was sitting. He took a seat next to her, patiently waiting for her to finish her conversation with the other woman across the table. It wasn't like him to interrupt, even if his own (temporary) reincarnation was at hand.
---
Ciel was befuddled. While he was clearly in Skyrim, everything seemed... different. He had been minding his own business in Cyrodiil, and the next moment he was outside of Falkreath. He headed for the inn, hoping to get a grasp on what had happened. Pushing open the door, he was greeted by the typical commotion of a inn. And a few familiar faces, Vanya being one. She was sitting across from a Nord woman, and an Imperial who seemed to have a problem with staying... whole. Ciel pushed through the crowd, taking a seat opposite to the ghastly looking Imperial and to the right of Vanya. The two women seemed to be having a conversation, so Ciel politely waited for them to finish. He turned his gaze instead towards the somewhat present Imperial and sparked a conversation. "I'm Ciel Dufont. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?" The Imperial's eyes lit up. "Ciel Dufont! The Ciel Dufont? The famous Illusion master who did ******** during the beginning of the 4th era!?" Ciel was quite confused. 1. He had absolutely no memories of ever doing *******. 2. He'd hardly call himself a Illusion master. 3. As far as Ciel was concerned, it was still the 3rd era.
He looked at the man oddly, wondering if he was stricken with some mental disease. Maybe it had something to do with the whole thing about being transparent. The man across the table spoke up again. "My apologies, master! It would seem I've forgotten my manners." He bowed and extended his hand across the table. Ciel gingerly took it and shaked it. "I'm Sorex Liore. My master told me many things about you! It's such an honor to meet you! But... didn't you die ** years ago? Maybe you're stricken with the same issue as me?" Ciel looked at his own hand. All accounted for, no transparency in sight. "I wouldn't bet on it." Sorex calmed down a bit. "I'm sorry, but I'm eager to speak to my friend Elsa here. We'll have to postpone our conversation, but I hope you'll teach me some of your spells!" Ciel wasn't sure he could teach this man anything, seeing as he had already mastered what appeared to be effortless Chameleon. "I'm fine with that. I have to speak with Vanya here anyway."
---
A young pair of half-breed twins walked down the street, casting odd glances all over the place. Everything seemed so foreign to them. Just a moment ago, they had been living peacefully in Wayrest. This cold realm of the Nords was as odd as another planet to them. The girl turned to her brother. "Kiyoshi, everyone here is so tall." Kiyoshi turned to his sister. "Yeah, I wonder if this is a village of Giants like we read in the books? I heard Giants are even taller than all these men though, Izumi." The two continued walking, stopping on the porch of the inn. Off in the distance, they could see an Imperial man in green engaging in a fierce match of "Who has the strongest tongue?" with a Nord woman inside of a bush next to the Jarl's building. Izumi muttered a question under her breath. "I wonder who's winning?"
Kiyoshi pointed to the inn's door. "Hey Izumi, I'm getting pretty thirsty. Maybe they have something to drink in here?" She nodded and followed him inside after he pushed open the door. Inside, it was a game of not being stepped upon. At the age of 12, they weren't exactly tall compared to most of the people inside. They weaved their way through the crowd, ending up in front of the counter. The innkeeper looked at them. "What'll it be, kids?" Kiyoshi spoke up for the both of them. "Two glasses of milk, please." The innkeeper shook his head and moved to get the drinks. "Second time this day..." He muttered under his breath. He soon returned with the drinks. "Alright, pay up." Kiyoshi digged around in his pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Will this do?" The innkeeper lazily looked at the coins, noticing that they had a different pattern than most septims. "Yeah, yeah. Now scram, kids." Kiyoshi and Izumi took their drinks to a nearby table and sat down, not noticing the large drunk who laid under it.
---
Vitus pulled his tongue out of the woman's mouth, bringing some of her saliva with him. She was blushing immensely, and seemed almost unable to stand - only doing so because of the wall she was leaned against. Vitus licked his lips, picking up the traces of saliva. He was quite pleased with his techniques, which apparently never ceased to amaze women (as well as men and asexual beings) wherever he went. "I think I win this match, darling." He said with a voice that dripped with seductiveness. For a moment, she stood unable to speak. She managed to get a few words out between her heavy breaths. "Can... we go back... to my place?" Unfortunately for Vitus and this woman, he had just done the deed a few minutes ago with another woman. Of course, his pride in his sexual ferocity meant that the option of telling her he couldn't at the moment was gone from his choices.
"Well... I've got an appointment at the inn that I really need to attend, so I can't. I'm sorry, my love." She sighed disappointingly and responded in between breaths, still recovering from Vitus' vicious techniques. "Well... I'll see you again, Vitus." She winked and stumbled off in the direction of her house. Slipping his white gloves back on, Vitus gracefully walked over to the inn. He pushed it open and stepped inside, greeted by the seductive glances of a few women. He ignored these and walked over to the bar. Right before he got there, he noticed a familiar man lying underneath a table where two children sat. Vitus moved over to this table, and began to crawl under. "Excuse me, children. There's about to be two very attractive men under this table, and I absolutely must speak to one of them." The children gave him odd looks but scooted to the ends of the bench to give him space. Vitus slipped under. He quickly took position next to the drunk man, their faces millimeters away from each other. It took Garrus a moment to realize that Vitus Liore was about to attempt to kiss him.
Garrus' head shot up, slapping against the underside of the table. He drunkenly clawed his way out from underneath, stumbling out into the tavern. He yelled with a slur down towards Vitus. "You flamboyant maniac! You... You think I'm just gonna sit there... and let you rape me!?" Garrus ran and stumbled across the inn, taking up a defensive position behind one of the other tables. Vitus gracefully came out from underneath the table, calling to Garrus with a singsong voice. "Come on now, Garrus! Are you really still that scarred from when I tried to grab your ass when we were in that hot spring?" Garrus yelled back across the inn. "Yes! I am! Stay away from me... you bastard!" Vitus gave a small sigh and abandoned that quest. He moved towards one of the other tables, where a man sat in a cloud of smoke. He had various drugs piled on the table. And in Vitus' mind, the second best thing to sex was drugs. He sat down at the table. "You willing to share any of those, my friend?"