Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 26 March 2005 |
| Who: | Cassius, Darius, Edward, Ellen, Genevieve, Noah, Sandra, Tyrr |
| What: | Genevieve and the parting of Kurgan after a weeks-long misunderstanding between the pair, while Sandra commiserates with Tyrr in regards to the Ethereals. |
Fado Irish Pub and Restaurant
Fado's has become a hotspot for many of the locals. The place is split between three different sections, the bar and tavern in one room, another room for the restaurant, and an outside patio area as an extension of the restaurant; all of which are no smoking. The owner, Tyrr Ceallaghan, opened Fado's two years ago and has advertised and made enough deals to watch it grow.
The bar and tavern room has a counter top bar where any of the patrons can sit and talk with the bartenders or their fellow patrons. Near the bar there are a few tables where anyone can sit with friends, share a drink, and just have a good time.
The restaurant and patio area is your classic walk in dine-in restaurant, with different celtic elements on the walls and in the way the rooms are built. The waitresses and waiters are dressed in all black, and always very courteous, as the owners insist on top quality customer service.
Curled up at the edge of the bar, wedged in the corner, Genevieve is curled up, sniffling some. The barkeep on duty casts her an occasional sympathetic, and truly empathic, glance. The entire bar's somber, although several groups are trying to look cheerful. One arm is wrapped tightly around a crystal green vase, although the flowers have been removed. For those who were regulars, it's the same vase from Genevieve's attempt to appease Kurgan from her earlier faux pas. A pile of half-used napkins are piled in front of her, and she HONKS her nose, cheeks covered in a wet sheen, before downing another daiquiri plunked down in front of her.
Noah walks into Fado's and heads over to bar. If there's a mood hanging heavy in the air, the young nurse if obviously oblivious to it. He hops into a seat and turns towards the bar. He asks of the server in a chipper tone, "Hi there. Could I get a basket of fries and a coke?" Only then does he turn and spot Genevieve. Noah furrows his brows as he watches her, trying to determine if perhaps she suffers from seasonal allergies or no.
Edward walks in pulling off his gloves and overcoat as he does so. He glances around for someone and frowns as he doesn't see them. Then a loud honk from Genevieve catches his ear and he looks over at her, his eyes widening slight. Throwing his overcoat over his arm he walks over, a crease wrinkling the flesh between his eyes "Genevieve, what's wrong?"
Genevieve practically hugs the vase in one hand, and an empty mug in the other, to her chest. A low croon emerges from her, and reddened eyes peer upwards towards the inquiring face of Noah. And then Edward appears. Her mouth opens wide and works for a few times, as if in disbelief at the inquiry. "A pair of snakes killed 'im! And he was still so mad at me about the Pez dispenser, and the time I changed the salt and sugar out, and glued all the drink coasters together, and trying to braid his beard! I tried to say I was sorry!," she wails out.
Noah simply stares at this point. Coke in hand, he absently takes a long sip. Then he realizes he's staring and he forces himself to look away, down at the soda.
Genevieve raises a hand to scrub at her face, and then glances away moodily from Edward. "Lemme go," she mumbles, before slipping off the stool, and then peering at the dartboard. She absently tosses a trio of black and hologram-finned darts towards the board, not really paying any attention to their jaunty, high-scoring impacts in the outer and inner bulls eye ring.
Noah looks down at his soda and his newly delivered basket of fries. Somehow, though, the burly nurse has lost his appetite. He stands from his seat, slowly and begins to walk over to the dart board. He stands there, quietly, for a few moments until Genevieve notices him.
Genevieve raises a wrist to wipe at her nose with a graceless snort, and peers suspiciously as Noah draws near. However, her better sense kicks in, and she says sheepishly, "Hey there. You know, I thought wakes were supposed to be full of everyone raising cain and having a good time.." She sighs a bit, although a second glance over his form makes her feel a little bit more at ease. "You were in here a while ago, weren't you? A couple of days ago?"
Noah nods once "I was..." He tightens his lips back against his teeth in a gesture of concentration before saying "I...You don't know me so...I have no right to ask you." He pauses again, looking uneasy "You look like your hurting. May I hug you?" He seems quite sincere in the question.
Genevieve takes a rattling, steadying breath, kneading thumbs against each other. She thinks for a long moment, before she squints upwards at Noah, "Are you an imp?" Carefully choosing the words to ferret out whether or not he was a Taker, as they'd take horrific offense to the name shortening...
Noah looks confused. He does that well "I don't know what you mean. I'm just a guy who can't stand to see someone suffer." He puts his fist up to his mouth rubs his mouth a little.
Furrowing her brow, Genevieve thinks over the matter a bit objectively, as blessedly brief as the moment would be. "Not suffering, really, so much as grieving. Can't really bring him back. It's just another form of expression. I'm all about expression..." But, she lapses back into silence, and then nods affirmation to him, saying, "Yeah, you can. But no kisses."
Noah smiles weakly at the agreement and reaches out. Two large arms wrap around Genevieve and he pulls her close into a warm embrace.
Genevieve is in the process of clutching a vase to her chest, sniffling madly at the passing of Kurgan. She's lamenting his irritation with her latest pecadillo, and has left a hefty pile of used napkins on the bar counter. At the moment, she speaking with Noah beside the dartboard.
Genevieve seems a bit tentative, but then burrows in, not quite used to such demonstrativeness with those that she normally works with. "He was so mad at me!" she bawls out again. It's quite sad, to the point of lameness in the eyes of some. The expression is utterly genuine, though, as she says, "It had to have hurt so much, the way it happened!"
Sandra bounces through the pub doors, looking remarkably like someone who has spent a night holed up in a building, been in a riot, and spent another night sleeping on a bench outside. Despite her current state of clothing, she seems quite pleased with herself as she heads towards the bar.
Noah says, visibly shaken, perhaps on the verge of tears himself "I'm...I'm sorry you lost a friend."
Genevieve hasn't bothered to remove the vase as it presses against her chest. She clings tightly to Noah, head bowed and pressed to his chest, eyes closed. She rocks back and forth a bit, "Still don't know if he's upstairs or downstairs... not going to be able to know... sure with the company he kept, it's a good bet he went north, but there's always that tiny 'what if'..." She takes in a deep whiff, and half-mumbles something about Noah smelling good. "Like help..."
Sandra blinks as she sees Noah and Genevieve together, and apparently grieving. She wobbles, and then veers wide of them, taking a bar seat. She blinks again at the bartender. "Aren't you usually someone else?"
Noah smiles brightly and says with some strength back in his voice "If you're worried so much about that then I think there's nothing to worry about."
Tyrr comes through the front door, still looking like his clothes have dirt spread out across them. He's just heard the news about Kurgan this afternoon when he got back from outside Austin's city limit. And he's not looking very happy, his face slashed up some from what looks like cuts from a blade.
One good reason why he's not looking happy is probably immediately obvious as he walks in, because Cassius is right beside him, and to all appearances is daring to give the big fellow an earful,"....because /whatever/ happened, /obviously/ it was something you should've taken me along for. You know better than this. At least, you /should."
Genevieve gives a somewhat disturbed look towards Sandra, but feels too worn out to repeat herself. The older woman just gets a blank look from the ingenue, before she returns to a whimper in the nurse's arms. "Oh, hey, it's here on the nametag. Thank you, Noah," she says timorously. And then the front door flies open. She straightens up, and gives a red-eyed stare at the two that ramble in.
Noah smiles still and says in warm tones "Anytime." He turns and looks around, realizing though not caring, that he's in a public place.
Sandra makes a confused face as she gets a disturbed look, and turns to follow Genevieve's attention. She abandons the bar stool as quickly as she took it, and starts to make her way towards the tattooed man. "Hello, again. Can you spare a moment?" Apparently neither glares nor cuts, nor even companions can deter Sandra.
Tyrr turns his head to Cassius. If he hadn't worked with Cassius for a very long time, and built a working relationship into a strong friendship, it would be very much like Tyrr to go off on Cassius. But he doesn't, "Getting the news that Kurgan's been killed, probably by that snake, Nico..." he pauses, "I had to go work off the anger, and unfortunately that meant huntin' one of the snakes who had just arrived. He got a few nicks in, but I got many, /many/ more." Tyrr holds up a small sword, just as Sandra walks over, "And a trophy from it's sorry hide." He looks toward her, eyes tightening as he studies her, "You're the woman from the other night?"
Cassius frowns a bit and shakes his head, "That's beside the point... I mean, fine, fine, you had to go, that's all well and good... but to go alone..." He stops as Sandra approaches however, just raising and eyebrow and stepping back.
Genevieve bats eyes a few times, and then gives a resigned sigh. "Always busy," she breathes out, pointing out the mobbing that the surly Tyrr's getting. "He probably wants to be alone, though..." She doesn't move from her clinging of Noah, though, soaking up the relative warmth of his frame. "You're a decent fellah," she finally says in a roundabout thank you.
Noah smiles still "I guess..." He steps back "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude though. But if you need to talk," he says, glancing back at the bar "I'll be comforting my french fries." He chuckles a little at that.
Sandra nods. She appears to consider something for a moment, then says, "I apologize for calling you a lunatic. It may be true for all I know, but it was undoubtably rude. Might I speak with you on a matter of importance?"
Genevieve noddles some, eyes still wide, but then lets him slip out of the grasp. She's calmed down considerably, and seems happy to let Noah munch on his fries. "I like 'em with ranch dressing," she says impertinently, before giving another defeated look towards Sandra as she speaks with Tyrr. "Everyone around here's important," she half-mumbles, lonely.
Noah points with a thumb at the bar "You're welcome to join me if you'd like?"
Tyrr moves toward the bar, and motions Sandra and Cassius to follow him. Removing his dusty sports jacket, that still has spots of blood on it, he moves around the bar and sits down on a stool behind the bar. His eyes glance toward
Genevieve, for a moment showing he's still angry and hurt over Kurgan's death, and knows what she's going through, before answering Cassius and Sandra in one shot. "Yes, it was foolish to go alone, but then of course, some do call me a lunatic," he looks toward Sandra, "But they're almost all of the Horde who call me that. I'm not insane, Sandra was it... I'm just devoted to what needs to be done. Just as Cassius and Genevieve here can attest to. What do you need to discuss?"
Cassius hefts himself up to sit on the bar after trailing after Tyrr, still wrapped up in his own trenchcoat, "The man doesn't lie... he's a dedicated fragger. Excessively so."
Sandra follows obediently enough, and nods at being identified. She eyes Cassius warily, but seems prepared to accept him for the moment. She keeps her voice low. "I imagine it is as you say. I have two issues I wish to discuss. The first is the...the man Tancred. I have reason to believe he would find more peace in your company than mine. And alcohol."
Genevieve cants her head to the side, hair still looking ridiculously mussed as she nods towards Noah. "Well, okay... sure. And remember, ranch dressing..." At that point, she hears her name pointed out, and then perks up, looking like a dog ready to lunge upon being called. However, she keeps herself firmly planted by the bar, still seeing Tyrr busy.
Noah slides his basket of fries between himself and Genevieve and gestures to it with his hand "Dig in," he says cheerfully as he reaches for his soda. He takes a long sip.
A heavy sigh comes from Tyrr as Mahon brings over a cup of coffee and asks what Cassius and Sandra want, if anything. Tyrr mentions nothing for the moment about Tancred. "Before we get to that subject, who are you?" He takes a sip of his coffee as he looks around at those in the pub.
Cassius waves Mahon away, "Nothing for the moment..." Then he lances to Tyrr, "We'll finish our discussion later. Don't doubt it." With that, he walks over to Gen, offering a nod, "Gen... how ya been?"
Sandra pauses, only then realizing that she forgot a whole part of the way conversations work. She shakes her head to Mahon, declining a drink, then gives Tyrr a sheepish smile. "I apologize. I have been rude again." She extends a hand. "I am Arnon, Wheel of Dreams. Normally I would not bother you, but events have made it the best way."
Genevieve hmms to herself. "Ranch dressing, I'm telling you. Blue cheese is just too strong for potatoes, though," she nods to Noah, as she snaps up a fry, popping the crinkled item in her mouth. She hops over the bar, and then begins to rummage in one of the small refrigerators that stock the counter. She tenses up, as if half expecting something to be thrown her way, but instead comes up unscathed. She puffs up her bangs with the gustiness of her sigh as she props her chin up with an upturned fist, "Rotten. I feel so bad about..." She then realizes what is missing, even as the white bottle with speckles sits in her hand, "No one's yelling at me for freeloading," she finally quavers out, eyes starting to water again.
Cassius nods slowly, expression bleak, "I can understand. It gets tiring, watching people pay over and over again for..." He just trails off and shakes his head leaving it unsaid.
Ellen comes in, looking around a bit before walking to the bar. She catches sight of Tyrr and Genevieve, with the others, and nods to them. "Good evening." She gives a look of concern at Genevieve's expression.
Noah smiles still "Come on out from back there and eat. It'll do you good," he says softly.
Tyrr takes the hand and shakes briefly. "Ah, one of Blandine's." His features seem to soften some as he takes another drink of his coffee and then takes a wet clothe from behind the bar to wash off the dirt and blood from his face. "You'll have to excuse my appearances. Despite being a Warrior and former Tsayad, I am not as gung-ho and bloodthirsty as many of my brothers in arms." Tyrr leans forward to lean against the bar from behind it, bringing himself closer to Sandra so his voice doesn't carry far any longer. "Tancred won't find solace with anything anymore. Not till Thor is dead. A brother in arms under Uriel, his soul was shattered by Thor. We served together once. But Tancred will never opt to serve another, nor does he likely remember who he once was anymore. Such is the sorrow of what we once did." A former Tsayad showing remorse for the Purity Crusade? You heard and saw nothing!
Noah takes a large sip of his soda after finishing off a few of the fries. He prefers ketchup and salts the mound of red goo every once in a while.
Sandra sighs. In an equally soft voice, she returns, "If there is nothing you or your Superior can do to restore him to sense, then give his shell peace in oblivion. He is in /pain/, Tyrr. Thor is gone, returned back to his true plane, and has conducted himself honorably in any case. I cannot help what was Tancred, and I would not see him suffer this trapped existence any longer."
Genevieve emits a faint sigh, and then clambers back over the counter, and stares down at the ketchup. "Man, I told you, ranch dressing..." However, she collects a few more of the fries, and dabs them in a puddle of her own making. The small, slight female considers for a bit, and says, "You know, a lot of people will believe in heaven, but refuse to acknowledge hell. Isn't that weird? They say the greatest trick that the devil pulled was convincing the world that he didn't exist." She sighs some, and then looks up, perhaps worried that the talk would send Noah packing. "I'm just... thinking out loud, I guess."
Sitting down at the bar, Ellen watches Noah and Genevive eating red goo. She lifts her eyebrow mildly at Genevieve's words. "Well, supposedly God was around before the devil, so one does not necessarily imply the existence of the other," she smiles a bit. She gives a friendly smile to Noah.
Noah smiles bitter sweetly at Genevieve and nods "I think...I think hell is a place of our own choosing. God gave us free will and its our decision to turn to him or to turn away." He says it slowly as if thinking over his own words as he speaks. He shrugs "At least that's what I think."
Tyrr looks at Sandra with eyes that deepen with sorrow as he thinks of the past. "I can't end his suffering. I wouldn't if I could. Bring him to the dreaming, Sandra, and take him to the edges of the Far Marches. Call out for the Tsayadim, and they shall give him the peace he deserves." Sitting the cup down, Tyrr looks down away from Sandra. "I can't bring harm to another of the Host who does not deserve it. I swore this to myself. But they can help you. I'm sorry I could not be of more assistance."
Sandra takes a deep breath, and sighs. "I'll do that tonight, then. I wish...I wish there were another way, truly I do." She traces a sideways figure eight into the tabletop, over and over. "There is something else I wished to discuss with you, as I am newly arrived. The peacock."
Genevieve looks over quizzically at Ellen, "Yeah, at one time. There's the temporal element to consider. That whole rebellion thing kinda screwed the pooch. But it exists, and that's something worth considering. It's just a matter of deciding which part of existance you want as permanent decor." Ducking, she half-expects to be swatted on the head. She stuffs a few fries in her mouth to keep herself silent. Well, at least in theory.
Tyrr remains leaning in and looking down, "As do I. As do I..." he says in an even lower hushed voice before finally raising his head and taking another drink from his mug. "Peacock?"
Noah takes another long sip of the soda, watching Genevieve. Distracted, he starts going through the stages of grieving in his head. He's glad he's missed out on anger.
Ellen looks at the stuff the other two are eating, then at the menu. "We never know how things may change in the future," she murmurs. "Someday humanity may be making its own decor..." She smiles a bit, then looks at Genevieve a bit more seriously. "But what's going on? You seem glum."
Sandra purses her lips, as if she'd bitten into something sour. "Nicolas Lyman. I have been told, and my own observation agrees, that he is a dangerous person who is gathering dangerous people to himself. Something must be done...I believe his meddling is causing undue disruption to the local humans."
Genevieve whines out to Ellen, "Kurgan got done wrong, that's what. They killed him!" Her voice is plaintive, but her regrets have cried her dry for now. She plunks her elbows up on the bar, but as soon as she hears Lyman's name tumble from Sandra's mouth, a horrified expression crosses her face, and her gaze snaps immediately up towards Tyrr. "Oh no," she cringes, pressing her flank and elbow roughly into Noah's side.
"He's immersed himself in the local Mob, as an Underboss." Tyrr's face tightens considerably, "And he's already killed one of my close friends. I'll be dealing with him soon. Though it shall take some work and help from others." Tyrr's hands are visibly tightening around the mug, a small crack appears toward the top of it as he takes another drink to calm himself. Taking a deep breath as he sets the mug down, Tyrr closes his eyes for a moment as he composes himself. "I can see, Sandra, that you wish to help make this a better place. I know that many look down upon my Superiors means, but I shall promise you that we will take care of Lyman. And that if you ever need help, you have but to come and ask for it. I am not as scary or insane as many would have you believe."
Noah looks down at Genevieve and then up and around then back again in a 'did I miss something' look. Regardless he puts his hand on Genvieve's arm and squeezes it gently.
Darius enters the pub and chuckles at someone walking near him as they enter the pub. He shakes his head and returns a 'no' to the small group. As the group walks off to the patio area, he moves off towards the bar.
"Kurgan?... Oh, you mean that fellow who used to work here?... Oh." Ellen murmurs sympathetically to Genevieve, then quirks an eyebrow as she too catches the name of Lyman. Her lips press in a slight frown. "Lyman.. was he involved in it?" she whispers.
Sandra raises an eyebrow. "It is not your scariness that worries me, and insanity is often looked upon as an asset in my brethren. Or at least, a different version of 'sanity'." She grimaces. "It's simply the wanton use of axes and disruption of human lives...too many of your operations, generally speaking, cause innocent humans to end up on the side of nightmares." She's sitting at the end of the bar, talking quietly with Tyrr. "But I thank you for your offer, and extend a similar one in kind." A pause. "Oh, and the Liesmith says he didn't do it. You may take that for what little it may be worth."
Genevieve is seated at the bar, having been invited over by Noah in an attempt to either distract her, or at least help her, work through her grief. At Ellen's inquiry, she tenses, and pokes out a lip. "PROBABLY, but no one's talking." She starts to rock on the barstool, before raising a hand to rub at her eyes. "Ugh, it's all drying out..."
Noah glances over at Ellen and then back at Genevieve. "Lyman," he asks, and then gives an accurate physical description of the man. He then furrows his brows again as if thinking intently on something.
Tyrr finally stands. "My operations are more subtle than you may think. Living as long as I have, you learn the subtleties of your nature through trial and error. I have done things that I am not proud of, I've done things that I've /had/ to. But when I do things I choose to, and have a say in how they happen, I strive for the least amount of disturbance." Tyrr sets his mug in the sink that was only a step away from him. "I appreciate the info, though I somehow doubt Loki's word, as I'm sure you do." He extends a hand to Sandra, "I think, perhaps, with time we shall come to work well with each other, despite our different purposes in the Symphony. I have a few things to begin planning though, if you'll excuse me..."
Sandra takes the hand and gives it a firm shake as she also rises. "I look forward to exploring the situation. And I must also go and attend to neglected tasks. Thank you for your time."
Ellen just nods quietly at the mention of one of her not-too-favorite gangsters. Her eyes flick to the quietly speaking pair at the bar's end. She's about to mutter something about celestials never telling each other very much, but she bites it back. She's not a Malphan anymore. Instead she nods softly to Genevieve, "Ah, I see. He was a friend of yours." She sighs a little, "I'm afraid I can't tell you anything, either. My contacts with mobsters have fortunately seemed to dry up lately."
Tyrr turns and unlocks the back door, but before he goes through it, he turns back to add something as Sandra makes to leave. "One thing... tell Tancred... that I said 'Purity's Light shall lead him to peace.'."
Genevieve braces both hands on the counter of the bar, and watches Tyrr's motions like that of a sunflower following the brightest apparent star in its track across the sky. However, as he goes back, she slumps forwards, looking at the two closest to her, as if trying to get a feel for what's going on. "Yes he was. And don't worry, the wheat will be separated from the chaff soon enough. I just have... to focus on the right things, is all..." She squirms some more in her seat.
Sandra dips her head in acknowledgement. "I will," she promises, softly, her dark brown eyes pained. She turns, smiles an acknowledgement at Noah, Ellen, and Genevieve, and then heads out of the bar.
Darius reaches the bar and finds a lone stool for himself. He points to a draft, "Black -n- tan please". He removes the requisite money and awaits his drink.
Noah is still looking deep in thought. Then an 'Ohhhhhhhhhh' expression crosses his face "So that's why he had body guards." He seems satisfied with the conclusion and reaches with his free hand for a french fry.
Darius looks about the room and just listens to the banter. A smile will dawn his face from time to time when something humorous catches his attention.
Genevieve nods, looking a bit tired. "I think I need to go talk to him," she says in reference to Tyrr's departure, and stands up, still looking a bit skittish. "And... thank you." At that point, she gives a somber nod to each patron as she skims past, including the gentleman with the Black'n'Tan.
Noah's distracted look breaks as Genevieve goes to leave "I hope you feel better," he says softly "It was good talking to you."
Darius returns a nod to Genevieve with a smile.
"Same here," Ellen adds after Noah speaks, giving a sympathetic nod to Genevieve. "Good luck, and take care."
Genevieve gives a slight finger-wave towards Darius, before nodding to Noah. "It was. Stay sweet..."
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