[h3][b]Sarvenolos of the Third Fane of Tekumo[/b][/h3]
[hr]

Sarvenolos was, for the most part, staying quiet at his seat. The bar had acted as a gravitational anchor, pulling in various individuals of different races and professions to a single place. It seemed that no matter who or what you are, drinking alcoholic beverages is the one commonality. 

People had been introducing themselves to one another now. He up names. Lopez. Velia. John. Ren. Ginny. A few others. There appeared to be a priestess of a Kiellar faith present, along with members of other primitive races that had been integrated to the Edenite nation. As he drank from his glass, Sarve noticed that the others were all feeling rather uncomfortable in the heat. Not Sarve, though. In fact, he had more trouble when it comes to colder temperatures simply because his serpentine body plan didn't exactly do wonders for retaining heat. It's why Morelians were at home in the jungle and in the desert… but never in the tundra, in ice, or wherever it's too cold. So, right now, the heat was just a moderate warmth to him. It didn't even cause any sweating.

Still, it was clear that temperature controls were down. Sooner or later, the heat will become unbearable, even for him. The other races would probably be dying from heatstroke before he does… but Sarve wouldn't classify himself as a selfish person. Not when cooperating with a sufficiently numbered collective was advantageous toward survival in situations like this… like the end of the world.

Oh, and of course, Verminslayer would feel the heat, too. The cat may enjoy lounging on sunbeams and on top of working machinery… but she wouldn't like being in the desert.

[quote]He knocked back another drink, set the glass down with a clink, then stood, retrieving his rifle from where it rested against the bar.

“Shall we move then?”
[@InfamousGuy101]
[/quote]

“Perhaps I could assist. I could fit in-” Sarve began, but before he could finish his proposal, Verminslayer jumped away, seemingly abandoning him for… something. The cat quickly moved away from the counter, prompting Sarve to quickly begin uncoiling himself. “Verminthlayer! Get back here!” He called after his cat as he dunked the last of the tequila into his mouth using his prehensile tongues and set it back on the bar counter. The Morelian slithered to the bar’s entrance, just to see his cat walking towards the departure area.

“Verminslayer! Is there something you smell?”

As it would turn out, Verminslayer had indeed found something… interesting.

Across the room was a Gendari, sitting on his mobility scooter, visibly fuming with annoyance. This wasn't just any Gendari, either, but the Gloriont himself. Not that Verminslayer understood what a Gloriont was. She didn't care about such titles. She just knew that he was small. Awfully small.

She prepared herself to pounce even as Sarve slithered towards her.