First Call Bar - Open IC area

[Snake Eyes]

Even the early risers get thirsty. It seems counterproductive to set up a bar outside of the headquarters building which houses most of the SET offices for the Tomorrow Legion, but there are patrons aplenty at nearly any time of day. Rumor has it Hellion Hank MacGruder stops in for a drink every so often. Still, there's always room for one more.
So you wander into the First Call Bar, drawn by the promise of a cold beer, a hot coffee, or anything in between.

, the bartender, has the music loud enough to amplify the mood but not enough to stifle conversation. A retired, cybered-up former merc, Ricky now spends his days pouring drinks and trading stories of his more audience-friendly exploits. You've heard whispers about how he ended up hanging up his spurs here, trading a particle beam for a tap and a glass, but there's no way to tell what's true and what's rumor. You get the impression that he hasn't lost a step in "retirement" and could probably flip that switch back on in a heartbeat.
You're anticipating your call time for your new assignment with the 8th Special Exploratory Team, the ones they call the Crazy Eights, but there's time to kill until then. So belly up to the bar! Who might you meet here?

[Klaxie]

Kashunk kashunk kashunk! Came the metallic sound of pressure relief valves and pistons across the floor, in what would have been an expected soft clomping of hooves as the feet of the four legged metal monstrosity made its way into the First Call Bar. Despite the Legions egalitarian nature, where it welcomed any and all races with similar values, the default entry way size of most of its buildings still had human sizes in mind, save for specialized buildings made for those more unusually sized persons. As such it was that Klaxie had to slouch downwards and bend all four of her cybernetic legs in order to get her frame inside of the door, though not seeming to pay the inconvenience any mind as if she were used to having to do such things.

Rising upwards once again to her full height, the centaur with a lower half of mostly metal trotted over towards the main bar as those legs made those aforementioned hissing sounds as careful steps dodged at careful angles around the various empty tables and chairs that stood in her path. Much like her metal lower half, the upper part of the centaurlike figure had a teal skin tone, indicating the presence of subdermal armored plating, with an additional set of metallic arms mounted to her spine as if intentionally done so to ensure that the number of arms and legs on this creature matched.

As the imposing figure reached the bar and stared downwards at Ricky, she eyed her human Headhunter counterpart, as the two of them exchanged glances and nods as they looked one another over and saw the various pieces of limb and flesh that had been replaced over time with that of metal as war injuries accumulated. Kindred spirits who had seem similar things over their careers. Though unlike the man behind the bar, Klaxie hadn’t quite hung up her rifle and vibro blades just yet.

With an unceremonious plop the cybernetic centaur lowered herself to her knees in lieu of finding a stool, almost serving to lower her height enough to be at eye level with the bartender, yet not quite reaching it. Staring a little longer with piercing eyes before she suddenly blurted out with a brash tone.

“You know, we hold these cybernetics from war injuries we got as badges of honor. But if you really think on it, doesn’t it just mean that we really suck at what we do? If we were any good we wouldn’t be getting hit at all! You know, like those merc soldiers who go in all gung ho and come out looking all perfect and perky on the other side.” As if to demonstrate, Klaxie flipped her short cut hair back in a feeble attempt to look exactly like those who took to the battlefield without any significant injuries to show for it. Though said hair was cut in pixie fashion and essentially had no movement at all to it.

“Anyhow, 9am right? Time to start getting drunk. Lucky I still got a liver kicking around in here along with most of my other squishy bits. Guess I can always comfort myself by saying I’m not completely terrible, else I’d have gone full brain in a jar like some of the other guys.” There was a small pause then as she gives Ricky a wide grin and looked him over from head to toe.

“So what about you? Your squishy and not so squishy bits still working as far as you can tell?” Where if the brash tone of her voice wasn’t indication of her personality enough, the clear inuendo on first meet certainly was.

[Raphael Bachelier]

Having left his clunky Combat Mage armor back in his barracks room, and without his ceremonial face-paint, Raphael hardly looks like a Legionnaire--or any other sort of adventuring type--at all. The tall, mixed-race man has an easy smile, entering the bar with an air of self-assurance. His left arm is missing, further making him look more like a civilian, or maybe even a refugee, than an enlistee. Only the staff he bears in his right hand, tall and mounted with a human skull on top, hints at something more to the man.
He grins and calls out to Ricky as he enters, speaking in a thick Creole accent. "Hello, mon frère! Has my shipment come in?"
The barman, briefly distracted from the flirtatious filly, chuffs a bit and nods. "Yeah, Raphe, it's here." He reaches below the bar and pulls out a paper-wrapped box and sets it on the bar, as the houngan takes a seat just down from Klaxie and sets his staff so it leans against the bar, his attention focused on the delivery. "Ah! Excellent! The PX is fine for rations, and the quartermaster is good for guns, but for anything important, I come to mon bon ami Ricky!" He gives a quick wink to the centaur woman as he opens the package. Inside the paper is a cardboard box; inside that is a considerable amount of packing straw, with a number of items inside.
He pulls off the satchel he wears, slung over his torso in a slant from his stub of a left shoulder to his right hip. The worn leather of the satchel has clearly seen better days, and maybe even better years, but he gently pops open the clasp, and begins to root through the box.
What comes out looks like a string of bad life choices, or, perhaps to Klaxie, like the makings of a fun evening. First, a cigar box, that when opened reveals... cigars. And cigarellos. And a stacked pair of chewing tobacco tins. And a pouch of pipe tobacco, too. He opens the pouch and sniffs the contents with a satisfied smile, and does the same to one of the thicker stogies, before replacing it all in the cigar box and tucking that carefully into the satchel.
Next out is a set of six different hip-flasks, each marked differently: "Rye", "Rum", "Absinthe", "Bourbon", "Mezcal", and finally, "XXX". These are also given quick sniff-tests (the pungent aroma of white lightning comes from the last flask when he opens it), and then stashed in little niches inside the satchel.
Next, a jar containing half a dozen hard-boiled eggs soaking in brine; again, into the satchel.
This is followed by several packages of dried, smoked meat--again, marked with different varieties: Beef, chicken, goat, gator, rhino-buffalo, fury beetle.
Finally, he retrieves a rope of garlic cloves and another pouch filled with a mixture of dried mushrooms.
Once everything has been put away securely in the satchel, he pushes the original box back to Ricky with a wide grin. "Parfait comme toujours, mon ami." A credstick exchange completes the transaction, and then he nods. "And now that the needs of the lwa are attended to, I find myself thirsty, as well." Looking at his bar-neighbor, he smiles. "I will have whatever notre formidable jument is having, I think." He smiles at Klaxie. "I hope you don't mind sharing a drink--I am celebrating une nouvelle mission, after having spent a bit more time sidelined than I care for."

[Klaxie]

Klaxie watches the exchange between Ricky and Raphael with curious eyes, going so far as to lean over towards the latter so she could get a better look at the contents of the retrieved package. As she grows more and more interested in the items, it seems as though she had had a bit of a delay in processing the strange mannerisms the one armed legionnaire communicated. For some reason the tall creature seeming to look a little embarrassed now as all four of her arms made a defensive waving off motion of apology.

“Aw sorry, I didn’t know you two were mon bons with each other.” The cybernetic centaurs words indicating that she perhaps might have misunderstood the presented creole and its meaning, choosing instead to fill in the gaps with her best guess as to what they meant. “I mean that’s one on me, I shoulda known. It’s always the good looking ones that go that way. I swear I was just horsin around.. Heh.. Get it..?” There was a small awkward pause and grin from her lips as the sound of crickets chirping might have been heard at that moment. “No…? Well I mean, I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise I’m not gonna try and get in the way of you two comme toujouring, I know that’s real important to make time for it between missions. Hell, I won’t even tell no one even if you go full parfait while out on task, it’s not for me to decide what's moral and not, even if it’s against the rules, you know?”

Seeing that she wasn’t getting anything but odd stares as she goes on through her flustered tirade, Klaxie decides to instead to try and rapidly change the subject. “But hey look at all that! Sounds like you got a pretty good time planned coming up. Sorry to hear about your jument though, I think if you head to the med bay the docs can give you some antibiotics and maybe clear it right up. Worth a shot yeah?” Though at this point the centaur seemed to be wiggling somewhat excitedly as she watched each and every item going into the satchel one by one, the look on her face now having shifted to eagerly hoping that an offer to share would be forthcoming in the near future.

[Eldariel]

When the door opened again, the petite woman who stepped through was breath-takingly beautiful. Her long, black hair shined with a luster not often found outside of the big cities. Her skin glowed with a healthy vitality. Long lashes framed perfect peridots for eyes. The perfect bow of her lips almost seemed to be smiling even when she was not. Her limbs, proportionately long though she wasn't that tall held tone that seemed to suggest hours spent exercising every day. Even her clothing almost seemed to glow with the extra embroidery in a combination of runes, swirls and interconnected lines. Her voice had a husky bedroom timber that could make men swoon with an English accent that was perhaps surprising in this part of the world. "Tea, Earl Grey hot."
It might take a moment to register the superior air with which she spoke, as if all present were there to serve her. She waited for her drink and took the cup to a table and sat with her back toward a corner. Her eyes travelled over those present as well, having a suspicion that they may be the people she was to be working with. She sipped the tea, then nodded noting that it was heated to the perfect temperature and steeped for just the right amount of time. Not something that one often encountered this side of the pond.

[Alia Moonrose]

Alia glided in right after, likewise eschewing her combat armor for a grey silk tunic and pants, faintly embroidered with stars and moons, a few shades darker than her hair, with brown leather boots folded down at the knees. Her staff with its crescent-moon head, a red crystal somehow floating in the middle, was in hand, but not thumping on the ground as she moved through the bar. She was ethereal, otherworldly, embodying everything one heard about elves.. until she accidentally locked the bottom of her staff into the footrail on the bar while attempting to sit, the sudden stop nearly pitching her from the stool. She recovered without saying anything, glancing to the left and right before raising a finger. "A single glass of red" she said in a voice that brought to mind the wind blowing through the woods. "And one of those Pop-Tarts."

She glanced to the mystic with her back to the wall, attention drawn by her aura.

[Eldariel]

She watched the other elf enter passively. At least, until that elf nearly faceplanted herself. The one with her back to the corner pinched the bridge of her nose as if the embarrassment were shared. After a moment passed, she lowered her hand and took another sip of tea as she regained her aloof demeanor.

[Snake Eyes]

The bartender is unimpressed by the cybernetically-augmented centaur hoofing it to the bar. "Yeah, sorry. Keep meaning to talk to the dwarves about making the door bigger, but they don't understand why. Whatever. You fit fine, darlin'." He grabs a bottle of mead with a cybernetic hand and shifts it towards @Klaxie. "First hit was free and I got lucky it was only my arm. The rest were my choice. But I still got all my favorite natural parts." He winks at the centaur's flirtations, then shifts his gaze immediately to the houngan, @Raphael Bachelier. Giving a nod to the familiar face and nonplussed by the presence of a human skull on a staff, he produces a box from below the bar. "I got something special coming in next time. We're gonna split that though." His eyes shift back to Klaxie as she misses 100% of the creole. "Fair lady, I'm open-minded and all, but it doesn't pass by cybered centaurs to land on voodoo priests. No offense, Raphe." His non-cybered hand grabs another bottle of mead and slides it to Raphael. "She didn't order it but the last centaur I fought with couldn't get enough of the stuff. Old habit, I guess."
@Eldariel's approach managed to wring a slightly-raised eyebrow before Ricky returned to taking orders. "Earl Grey. My pleasure, vana firiel." The last line is delivered in perfect Elvish, almost as if he'd been speaking it his whole life. His eyes linger on hers until she turns towards her table.
A smile breaks across the bartender's face as yet another elf walks into his bar. He begins to offer service until @Alia Moonrose manages to almost faceplant in front of him. He makes no face at the stumble, brushing right past it with a reassuring "Red wine. I have a lovely cabernet I think would suit you." He pours a glass and slides it to Alia, along with a fresh-baked tart. "Got a halfling in the kitchen with a sweet tooth, makes the best tarts you ever had. He eats most of 'em though so they're gone by noon."

[Eldariel]

The perfect elvish from the bartender did bring a smile to the likely elder elf's lips.

[Gangleri]

With no where to go, and no one to speak to Gangleri wanders into the bar. Normally the mutant avoids social spaces, and those in them avoid him. Although, there seem to be a few more open minds in this Castle Refuge. On the surface anyway. Stares still come.

Undeterred, the ghoulish faced man sits at an open table well back from the others letting his dusty pack fall to the floor. Shambling toward the bar, one side of his face drooping him tries to smile but instead his lips curl in a misshapen sneer.

"Got anything I can drink with a straw, otherwise I just get it all on my jacket."

Taking whatever is offered he shuffles back toward his lonely table, avoiding eye contact with any patrons along the way.

[Snake Eyes]

Ricky nods at @Gangleri, unfazed by the mutant's appearance. "Got just the thing, boss." He turns around and reaches to the top shelf, pulling down an exotic-looking bottle filled with an even more exotic looking liquid that seems to cling to the bottle as it swirls around inside. He pours the shimmery-blue liquid into a cup with a built-in straw designed to draw from the bottom of the container. "Just the right amount of bite in the front but a sweet finish and an effervescent aftertaste." He taps the bottle with his metallic hand. "It's the good stuff, and it's on me. Enjoy, pal." He gives Gangleri the Shaka sign, then turns to his next patron.

[Eldariel]

Her eyes flit to the apparently decaying man. She does stare for a moment but when he actually shambles to the bar and orders a drink she blinks a little in surprise and though her tension had originally been barely perceptible, what was there relaxes as he appeared to be sentient rather than a mindless zombie that they would have to kill. Good to know security is not THAT lax. Though before the man had entered she'd had no reason to question their security. That sorted in her mind she simply sips her tea.

[Murpf]

Strolling into First Call Murpf was surprised at the amount of customers Ricky had already this morning, the comm unit on a lanyard around his neck seems to turn on by itself and a grinning face appears on it's screen. "RICKY!! I would say guess who's out of the brig but that is rather obvious. You were right, "borrowing" a corporal's personal hover bike for a joyride was NOT a good idea...." Seeming to take offense at the quiet in the bar he continues, "For all these people it's kind dead, how's about some tunes." The cactusman makes a fingergun pointed at the jukebox and when he "shoots" an upbeat song starts to play.

Nodding to the music, he walks up to the bar. "Think I'll be responsible today and not have those special herbs with my greens. Or... not yet anyway. Gotta roll call in few for the 8th, they are finally gonna put me back in the field." The eyes on the screen face shift back and forth and at a stage whisper he asks "What's with all the meatbags this morning, kinda early for them getting tanked innit?"

[Eldariel]

"Not all of us are here to get...'tanked' as you so eloquently put it." Spoken as if the very idea of getting drunk were distasteful and beneath her. She takes another sip of her tea, finishing the cup. Then she stands up and walks over to Murpf and despite her tone she offers her hand. "I am Eldariel. It would seem we are to be working together."

[Klaxie]

Klaxie eagerly took the offered bottle and swigged it back in one smooth motion, extending her face upwards as her throat worked at chugging the entirety of the honey fermented beverage that she had now been experiencing for the first time. After several moments, she slammed the bottle back onto the counter as she let out a victory cheer, with four raised arms making fists in the air with an expression of pure elation on her face.

“Oh hell yeah!! What was that amazing stuff my guy? it felt like I just swallowed a rainbow of magical goodness, that’s gonna have me prancing and trotting like I was full fleshed and season ready for the rest of the day for sure! Have they been holding out on me here this whole time? Whats with the not up to snuff stuff I’ve had to drink up till now? Don’t tell me this stuff costs thousands of credits does it? Oh…” The centaur paused for a moment as if just remembering something. “Speaking of… Uh… I’d like to start a tab if that’s okay.” Came a sudden sheepish request performed after she had blatantly chugged the entire bottle down in but a few seconds in front of everyone.

“Well, guess I got it wrong on you two being mons bons with each other. I’m always getting that one wrong too now that I think about it. Which is really just the worst, because I consider myself a pretty understanding and open minded individual. The kind acceptin of all types, I don’t go around judging a book by its cover you know? I think that’s something that’s really important for everyone to do, because without it we– OH GOOD SLIME COVERED BUCKETS OF DOG SHIT, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?” Came a sudden blurting out yell from Klaxie as Gangleri showed up.

“You’re the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and I seen some things! Wow!” Came the utterly shocked words from her mouth as eyes stared at the figure who was trying desperately to remain unassuming, trotting up to his table as she continued to look upon him in amazement. “Your face is haunting like… Like a muddy dirt road with all the grass worn off of it, where water pooled up on it at certain spots, except for bits and pieces of it where its kinda half mud and half dirt, and then someone took their boot and just stepped right there on that spot where the mud met the dry dirt, making a mush impression next to crumbly crud that now stuck to their heel.” Came the descriptive expression as Klaxie pointed directly at him. “And it’s like, the people who used it always thought about paving the road but it was just too unused to justify the expense, and all they’d get was a little gravel that would turn into a caulky paste, like kitty litter poured over a puddle of oil, but not enough of it was used so it ended up all goopy like even after attempting to dry in the sun for awhile. Wow! I think your skin even moves a little bit when you breathe!”

The high and excitement of the encounter washing over her as she leaned forward with a huge grin to extend one of her hands out towards the mutant. “I’m Klaxie! Whats your name? Where’d you come from? I gotta hear this story. Holy shit is that a straw? You need to use a straw, that is so awesome!” The sound of excitedly moving pistons could be heard from her metallic ankles as she lowered herself down to Gangleri’s level eagerly.

[Gangleri]

Taking his drink and thinking things wouldn't be so bad, Gangleri visibly winces at Klaxie's verbal assault. Shrinking back as if expecting a blow he listens through the somewhat creative insults waiting for the shoe to drop. He is visibly stunned when she turns from insult to curiosity. It seems her verbal diarrhea is a sharp contrast to his own social constipation.

A long awkward silence ensues, interrupted by only a noisy slurp of his straw.

"I'm from all over I guess. Started out in Madhavan and been waking ever since."

[Raphael Bachelier]

Raphe was about to follow up with an inquiry about Ricky's upcoming delivery, but then Klaxie speaks. He couldn't restrain himself at the centaur's misunderstandings and misinterpretations and so forth, and so Raphael can only tilt his head back and laugh, a rich, joyous sound, deep and echoing. "Ah, no, Ricky and I are not lovers, but merely good, reliable friends--he, perhaps, a bit more reliable than I, though he knows he can rely upon me to pay my tab. That said, it is a super compliment you pay me, to suggest i would be up to his standards." He laughs again, clearly not offended, and with no hint of mocking her for misunderstanding, either. "I should also explain that you are notre formidable jument, our formidible mare, you see?"

He glances around at the succession of rapidly arriving customers. Two elves are easy on the eyes, at least, though one appears like she might be more approachable than the other. He does briefly stiffen when Gangleri enters, but relaxes as it becomes clear the man is not some form of undead. He is actually about to apologize for staring when he overhears Murpf's voicebox make an important detail known, and he immediately swivels in the Cactus Man's direction.

"Pardon, mon bon homme, but did I hear you say you are assigned now to the 8th? But what merveilleuse fortune! I, too, am to be in the 8th SET. Clearly, this is a good omen!" He gives a dramatic little bow, and then holds out his right (and only) hand. "I am Raphael Bachelier, at your service.

He then blinks as Eldariel speaks. "Wait, non! You, as well? Ah, this is clearly no mere instance of belle chance. There is a hand, here, be it Fate or perhaps the owl-woman playing at strings...." He speaks louder, addressing the room as a whole, grasping his staff and holding it aloft with his right hand, waving to get attention. "S'il te plaît! Is anyone else here to be a member of the 8th SET?" His eyes are dancing in amusement at this new game.

[Klaxie]

“Hey I think you got me mixed up with someone else!” Klaxie yells back towards Raphe, without any shame of being heard across the room. “My name’s Klaxie, not Notre Formidable Jumet! But I think I get that one a lot, me n’ her probably look real similar.” Klaxie had already formed a solid opinion of the man in the strange attire who carried the staff with the skull on the end of it. She knew from his joyful conversation that he was obviously a nice guy and she was determined to tell the next person she met about it.

---

---

“Nice guy that one though.” The brash figure nodding backwards to direct the mutants direction towards Raphe. “But, good to meetcha ”From All Over I Guess“, it’s a mouthful but it’l do.” Came a quick reply with a grin as Klaxie thought over the response, looking up and to the right a bit as she tried to remember the location the stunned figure next to her mentioned.

“Madhaven, Madhaven, Madhaven... Nope, never been. Though I heard bits and pieces about it. You must be a super hard as hell type if you survived that place, called it home and lived to tell about it. Heard it’s got all sorts of insane freak-a-deeky mutants in it who look all matter of gross, just walking around and eating peoples heads like they were blocks of soft butter. You must have a great deal of skill if you were able to survive or avoid any confrontations with those types. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I ever ran into one.” The centaur mercenary said, giving Gangleri a thumbs up with one of her mechanical hands as a gesture of solid respect.

“Though I guess the rest of us normal people like you and me still got a lot to watch out for even in this area.” She jerked a thumb on her other mechanical hand behind her to draw Gangleri’s attention to the other conversation going on across the bar. “See over there? Some poor bastards are gonna get stuck with the elf and cactus over there who haven’t decided to get hammered up before noon, right before receiving their orders too. It already looks like the nice man with the skull stick has already ended up their way. Little do they know, that once you get the mission, you’re on the clock and its all about regs regs regs.” She finished with a slow shake over her head.

Pulling out a communications pad, Klaxie lays it on the table to show the scout in demonstration. The blueish screen lit up, displaying its text for the man to see. “Lucky for me I got assigned to infinity troop. You know that with a designation like that, that I’ll be in with the real heavy hitters doing some real important stuff.” It was worth noting however, that after a casual examination of the tablet, that Gangleri would note that while it did indeed display the symbol for infinity on it, that the centaurs device was also turned on its side, which if adjusted to its proper orientation would clearly show that she too was to meet up with the 8th in the near future. The look of smug confidence on her face however indicated that she had not yet realised this.

[Murpf]

"Not all of us are here to get...'tanked' as you so eloquently put it." Spoken as if the very idea of getting drunk were distasteful and beneath her. She takes another sip of her tea, finishing the cup. Then she stands up and walks over to Murpf and despite her tone she offers her hand. "I am Eldariel. It would seem we are to be working together."

He shakes Eldariels hand with his own, gloved hand. "I'm Murpf. I'll be your driver, tech guy, and probably other whatevers." The comm face smiles.

He glances around at the succession of rapidly arriving customers. Two elves are easy on the eyes, at least, though one appears like she might be more approachable than the other. He does briefly stiffen when Gangleri enters, but relaxes as it becomes clear the man is not some form of undead. He is actually about to apologize for staring when he overhears Murpf's voicebox make an important detail known, and he immediately swivels in the Cactus Man's direction.

"Pardon, mon bon homme, but did I hear you say you are assigned now to the 8th? But what merveilleuse fortune! I, too, am to be in the 8th SET. Clearly, this is a good omen!" He gives a dramatic little bow, and then holds out his right (and only) hand. "I am Raphael Bachelier, at your service.

"I'm Murpf, a pleasure. I dunno about omens though, this place beats the mess halls is all. Better food, service and atmosphere. Best of all, no Captains lurking about to give you the stink eye and ask if'n ya don't have better things to do." The animated face on the screen of his comm unit winks.

[Snake Eyes]

Strolling into First Call Murpf was surprised at the amount of customers Ricky had already this morning, the comm unit on a lanyard around his neck seems to turn on by itself and a grinning face appears on it's screen. "RICKY!! I would say guess who's out of the brig but that is rather obvious. You were right, "borrowing" a corporal's personal hover bike for a joyride was NOT a good idea...." Seeming to take offense at the quiet in the bar he continues, "For all these people it's kind dead, how's about some tunes." The cactusman makes a fingergun pointed at the jukebox and when he "shoots" an upbeat song starts to play.

Nodding to the music, he walks up to the bar. "Think I'll be responsible today and not have those special herbs with my greens. Or... not yet anyway. Gotta roll call in few for the 8th, they are finally gonna put me back in the field." The eyes on the screen face shift back and forth and at a stage whisper he asks "What's with all the meatbags this morning, kinda early for them getting tanked innit?"

Ricky shakes his head. "All I can do is tell ya you don't exactly blend in and there's a drone watching the thing. He likes that bike. Not my fault you don't listen." He stops and exaggerates a look at the sides of @Murpf's head. "Nope. No mouth or no ears. Might as well be talkin' to a tree." He grins and slides a glass of thick green liquid towards the cactus man.

[Eldariel]

She smiles and shakes with Murpf and offers a hand to Raphe too, also speaking loud enough for Ricky to hear. "I am Eldariel, Ley Line Walker. I heard the tea was brewed better here. We across the pond are very serious about our tea. It was as good as advertised." The way she says Ley Line Walker is as if to say Of COURSE she's a Ley Line Walker. What else would she be?