Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 30 March 2005 |
| Who: | Damien, Darius, Genevieve, Lei (as Andrew), Noah, Sandra, Sylvia, Timon |
| What: | A group of people happen upon one another in Fado's and converse about the NHL, Noah's work and Damien's partner, amongst others. They are joined by Sandra and Timon. |
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.
Having pretty much becoming a permanent fixture at the local bar, Genevieve has been popping in earlier and earlier, escaping her duties in the pet store in what can only be some kind of conspiracy. The lightly built femme idly lobs her set of darts at the board on the side of the bar furthrest from the door, looking a bit distracted. "Still not the same without the yelling," she asserts to herself, plucking at her lower lip as she restlessly swings her foot in the air, two foamy rings announcing her early consumption of sugar-containing daquiris. Now if only she could get a caffeine spike of some kind...
Damien slinks into Fado's alone, behind the bulk of the rest of the milling lunch crowd. His destination is the bar with the rest of the lonely hearts. Through the power of unconscious self-preservation, he doesn't get even near Genevieve and her darts. But he does settle on a barstool near her and her daquiris.
Noah is sitting at the bar, somewhat near the memorial that was erected upon it. A half eaten plate of quesadillas sits in front of him along with soda. Underneath his seat, a black backpack sits propped up against the bar. Noah gnaws on one of the pieces of food, eating uncharacteristically slowly.
Walking into Fado's, Andrew Williams looks about him in a distracted manner. He walks up to the bar and orders a lemon juice, dumping his bag on the floor next to him. The bartender gives him a funny look, and says something to him in a low tone. Andrew changes his mind, "An orange juice then, please." He turns his back to the bar and looks about him.
Genevieve lets her next volley fly, and then hmms some as there are a few jangles of the bronze cowbell above the doorway. "Football guy!" she chirps out to Damien, who has wisely situated himself on the opposite side of where she was aiming. Noah meanders in as well, and she squirms in her seat slightly. "Hey, guys. Been thinking a lot on things. I guess it's not too surprising," she admits, suppressing an urge to hop off her seat and putter over towards the talented bear-hug comforter.
Damien orders something hamburger-like from the bartender, knowing the order will go directly to the kitchen, and turns on his stool to Genevieve. "Hey Genevieve." He watches her wander over toward Noah, and follows with a lame, "Hey Noah."
Darius enters the pub and takes a moment to adjust and look around the empty pub. He meanders himself to the bat and orders a Roy Rogers and begins to settle himself into a stool as others begin chatting amoungst themselves.
Sylvia step inside and makes her way, rather briskly, to a small table. Even before a member of waitstaff arrives to take her order, Sylvia's slim briefcase is opened and the latest folder is laid on the table before her. Breaktime is such a subjective concept.
Genevieve finally does dismount from the seat, and putters around Damien's seat for a few good turns, giving him a grin as she produces the television remote from her hip pocket, and tosses it his way. She makes good on her initial urge, and flounces over to Noah, and then darts out a hand to take a section of the quesadilla, stuffing it in her maw as she says, "Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital? Are you on break? Or are you just working at night shift instead? Maybe just got off work?" She tries to spell out all the options -- it's almost like a multiple choice quiz.
Noah nods somewhere in the middle, "Night shift," he says, not complaining as some of his food is snatched away. He glances over at Damien and chuckles a little as if remembering something funny. "How are you two doing," he asks, eyes moving back and forth between the two.
Damien catches the remote as it is tossed to him by Genevieve. He turns toward the television over the bar and flicks it to ESPN -- Sportscenter. Without a hockey season, and what kind of EVIL would prevent an NHL season? he's stuck watching endless coverage of the Final Four and baseball spring training. He says distractedly towards Noah, "Angry at the world for a lack of a Stanley Cup. Damn you league team owners!" He even shakes a fist.
Darius pulls out the requisite cash and takes a sip from his drink. Turning in his seat he ganders at the flowers on the counter before letting his eyes trail about the room.
Having finished his orange juice, which arrived promptly after he ordered it, Andrew turns to ask for another. As he does so, he notices Damien, and the doctor who patched him up when he'd had a fencing accident. Paying for the drink, he picks his bag up and moves over to the edge of the group centred about these two individuals, and seats himself inconspicuously there.
Genevieve prattles on despite Noah's response mid-way through her inquisition. The answer finally sinks in, and she bats her greenish eyes with a quiet 'oh.' At Damien's outburst, she gives a light laugh, before pointing to the quesadilla, "You know these things taste great with a wee bit of salsa. Not TOO MUCH, because then you're telling people that the thing sucks and is all dry and stuff. As a few of the others draw closer, she blinks up to them, and gives a cheery wave.
Noah leans past Genevieve to look at Damien as he rages against the television. Furrowing his eyebrows he simply leans back to where he was, not really feeling up to telling Damien that he has no idea what he's talking about. He nods to Genevieve, adding "They're good with sour cream too."
Damien is fairly oblivious of all things except the loss of his precious Stanley Cup Playoffs Grunge-Fest. And the arrival of his hamburger. There's nothing like ordering at the bar for getting food fast. He rages at Sportscenter incoherently with a mouth full of burger and a raised fist -- shaking in silent incoherent mouth-filled rage!
Darius opens a menu to take a gander at what food items the pub carries. He lets his gaze slip to familiar faces from time to time, but seems to enjoy his silence for now.
Roll by Lei: (5) (6) (6)
Slightly surprised by Genevieve's sudden hospitality, Andrew gives a meek half-wave in return, smiling weakly at her. Noticing Damien, he concentrates on him momentarily but looks away, up at the screen showing yet another repeat of the Yankees-Red Sox Spring Training game.
Sylvia takes advantage of her coffee's arrival to set aside her paperwork, at least for a moment or two. In between sips she lets her attention idly stary over the sparse crowd.
Damien tangentially notices Andrew out of the corner of his eye. He takes a moment to finish raging, then swallowing, then turns toward the student to wave and say, "Hey."
Genevieve seems happy enough to let the guys talk about the condition of sports, although she does perk up a little bit at the baseball action. It doesn't last, though, and she pauses for a long moment to stare pointedly at the briefcase full of work and the lady that goes with it. A few things run through her mind, and a wary glance can be seen in her eyes before she hovers over Noah again. "What's the weirdest thing that's happened all week long where you work?"
Returning Damien's nod, Andrew replies, "Hi Damien. How're things going?" He puts his bag down before continuing, "Incidentally, I spoke to Sandra last night." Hearing Genevieve's strange question, he turns to look at her, wondering what she is talking about.
Noah doesn't even have to think before responding "Some kid swallowed a handful of those expandable dinosaur toys..You know. They're capsules that bust open and big spongy dinosaurs come out of them." He shifts a little in his chair, bumping his foot into his backpack to make sure its still there. "How have you been," he asks, lowering his voice a little and speaking in a gentle tone.
Damien looks briefly over toward Genevieve, and then back toward Andrew. He seems to be mulling her question, even though it was addressed to Noah. But he says to Andrew instead, "You saw her? Sandra, I mean. And? Anything interesting? I got so busy last night I forgot to call her, which says something about how busy I got."
"Yeah, plenty interesting, but nothing other people here would find as such," Andrew says in reply to Damien. Hearing Noah's answer, he winces a bit, before continuing to talk to Damien, "We happened to bump into one another in the supermarket. It's a fairly long and, if I'm honest, not particularly interesting story."
"Hirsh's gotta girlfriend, Hirsh's gotta girlfriend," sing-songs from Genevieve as she cements her place in the halls of Poor Impulse Control. Her hands snap up to her mouth, and she bats eyes a few times, before dragging her gaze slyly back towards Noah, nodding to him. "I am not permanently scarred from it. But for him, I just..." She shrugs helplessly, "Still need to know. There's a few things of a few people I could ask about."
Roll by Lei: (4) (5) (1)
Damien opens his mouth and kind of stumbles at Genevieve's outburst. "Yes," he tells Genevieve gently, "I have a girlfriend." He turns back to Andrew. "My partner had a hell of a crazy night. He was..." He considers for a moment, and then bites a big mouthful of burger, and says with his mouth full, "He was drumming up some side business for himself, suffice to say. He's a crazy man without a leash."
Looking across at Genevieve's loud crowing, Andrew's eyes narrow before he looks downwards shaking his head. Hearing Damien's reply he looks across to him and asks, "So what happened with that, uh, press conference, was it?"
Damien swallows the burger and then launches into a story. If there is one thing great about his job, it's the stories. So he tells it, while, perhaps, looking around to make sure he doesn't get kibbilized. "Alright, so Kevin -- Dr. Kevin Nast, PhD, JD, barred in the State of New York, Harvard -- gets on a plane and flies down to central Florida, where he rents a car and drives from Orlando to the Heart of Darkness, that town with the hospice. And when he gets there, he looks for the group of the craziest possible knot of protestors and walks over to them and starts lecturing the whole group on Federalism and Right-to-Die issues, all kind of cloaked in this strange mystical super 700 Club Fundie Christianity about all these miracles and how someone with just the right touch could go in there and HEAL her with the POWER of JESUS. And he gets them all riled up and crazy and chanting and then gets out of the way to go rile someone else up. So this group apparently all full of JESUS JUICE charges the cops last night and these crazies get clubbed and Kevin goes around and hands out his card to each of them and promises God's Defense should they be arrested for rushing the hospice because, and I quote, "'We are governed by the Will of the People and the People want to go inside!'" He starts quoting Jefferson and all kinds of freaking nonsense to these people, and they don't understand it but they buy it. When they called the number on the card, it was, of course, my number, and I had to tell all these wackos that Dr. Nast was not barred in the State of Florida and they should retain themselves some actual legal, uh, legal council and Strategic Partners is not a law firm. Oh, and he got himself onto some talking heads show on FOX, just for kicks. See, I know the story because he told me afterwards."
Genevieve stops dead as she feels some of the looks cast her way, and ahems to herself. "Uh, okay, maybe I should go over here..." A faint flush of color rises across her face, although she perks up some at Damien's story. "Pretty fun. Some of the stuff that gets carried out in His name. Hope they threw the book at 'im." It doesn't sound like she grasped the entire story.
"Why would he do that? I can't see how that would help anyone, or anything. It's not as if it's even made things a whole lot worse," Andrew says, in response to Damien's story. "It just makes no sense..." He trails off, before the last sentence registers and he continues, "He got away with all that?"
"Of course he got away with it," Damien says, eyeing his last half of burger. "He has me to call and smooth everything over while he goes off to go do something else insane. I don't think he really did anything but make crazy people crazier, but he tells me that watching potbelied South Floridians with bad hair, bad shirts and signs rush cops was pretty Funny." He capitalizes the F in Funny.
Looking somewhat disgusted, Andrew asks, "Does he do this often? 'Insane' stuff? Doesn't seem like something I, or anybody else, would find particularly enjoyable."
"He's an utterly brilliant legal scholar," Damien concedes to Andrew. "From a professional standpoint, seeing him at work in his field is a joy. Makes me wish I had done law instead of public policy and polisci. He's just so good that he slides and squirms through loopholes and uses the legal systems to make other people look stupid. He finds normal Law boring, and he uses it to be, well, Kevin. He hates the G--" He reaches for his burger and thinks that sentence through again. "He hates how the legal system is just a big game for politicians and uses it to screw with them."
Noah simply watches Damien speak as he returns to slowly gnawing on his quesadillas. Most of it goes straight over his scruffy blond head.
Nodding, Andrew says, "I can understand that point of view. Everyone has to do their bit to fight. I just don't like innocents being hurt, it seems wrong somehow. Well, to myself, anyway."
"Kevin's number one priority is Kevin," Damien says with a small shrug. "And he'll use pretty much anyone to help the cause of Kevin in the World of Kevin."
Noah frowns slightly at that statement, dropping the end of his mostly eaten quesadilla wedge onto his plate "No wonder the world is so messed up," he comments blandly.
"So he really did just get those activists to charge the police for Kevin's amusement?" Andrew asks. "That is just wrong. Innocents getting hurt in the fight for a greater cause is a cause for regret, but is acceptable. Innocents being hurt for one's own gain is terrible."
Damien frowns, ponders his burger, and then looks up at Sportscenter. "I knew I shouldn't have told the story of my night. It was a little on the cringe-worthy side. Usually, I'd find his story pretty amusing, but in retrospect, it's really kind of terrible. The sad thing is, it's what goes on all the freaking time."
Noah shrugs "Maybe so. But that doesn't make it right." Noah doesn't go on to explain further. To him its as simple as black and white, as if further explanation shouldn't even be necessary.
Shrugging, Andrew says, "The world is one great struggle. We have to do what we feel is right, no matter how it may appear to other people." He also glances up at the TV, before looking back down to Damien. "Of course, some people know, as I am sure Kevin does, what they are doing is wrong, and try to justify it to themselves."
"So... you let people pay you to cover their asses?" Genevieve scrunches up her face slightly, looking a bit worried. "I mean, I don't know how to say it without sounding well... not nice." She raises a hand to scratch at her brow, before another glance is sent towards this Andrew fellow. "And are you at least liking the drinks here?" A bit lowly, she says, "I still think Kurgan did a better job."
"People pay me to tell them what to think," Damien says. "But right now, talking to you guys, I could use a small vacation. You can be not nice, Genevieve."
Noah smiles warmly at Damien. He says excitedly, "Maybe someplace quiet! Like..umm..hrrrm. Where could you go to get away from things?" So much for being useful.
Genevieve snaps her hand up to the back of her head to ruffle at it in thought, and blinks some, raising eyes to the ceiling. "Wait, are you saying I have permission to be, or that I am capable of it, or were you implying that I was /just/ being mean?" She seems a bit confused, even a bit hurt, "You know, you /COULD/ just say 'shut up'." At that point, a big raspberry is sent Damien's way.
Looking slightly strangely at Genevieve, Andrew tries to clear things up, "He said that you have permission to be mean, if you want it." He looks briefly across at Damien looking for confirmation. "And I think you should probably stay around here to relax. It's better than New York, that's for sure."
"No, no, I mean, Genevieve..." He looks at Andrew and says, "You're right. I'm trying, Andrew."
Noah smiles brightly "If you need a change of pace, we could always use more volunteers at the hospital."
The door to Fado's opens, and Sandra wanders in. Her face is mostly obscured by a 'how to' book on Easter eggs, but she lowers it to peer around the restaurant as the hostess smiles her way.
Genevieve withdraws tongue, and ahems, looking immediately apologetic. "Okay, I'm going back over here to my corner now. There's blood in my sugar stream." She actually vaults over the bar and begins helping herself to a plain, simple, water.
Giving Genevieve's vaulting back a strange look, Andrew turns to see who is coming in at this time of day. Seeing Sandra, he waves her over. "Sandra! Hi!"
Damien nearly chokes on his burger. He turns around, and then brightens more than anyone could every imagine possible. He swallows his current bits and gets a huge smile. "SANDRA!"
Noah smiles, covering his mouth as he watches Damien's reaction.
Genevieve's vaulting is the first thing to catch Sandra's eyes, and she gives the other woman a friendly wave before being hailed by Andrew and Damien. She smiles back, and steps around the hostess to make her way over to them. "Let all be greeted in friendship and eggs," she says happily, then bends to kiss Damien on the top of his head. "How are you all?"
Damien just beams at Sandra. "Oh, much happier now that you're here. Except I am still denied any Stanley Cup Playoffs this year, which is a sad thing indeed. Just telling folks about my work."
Seeing, out of the corner of his eye, Damien's face light up, Andrew cannot help himself but smile broadly. "I'm good. Just enjoying Damien regaling me with tales about Kevin, while catching glimpses of the baseball. How're you?"
Sandra ruffles Damien's hair and smiles. "Sounds excellent. Is the 'Stanley Cup' baseball, as well?" she asks, twisting her body to look around. She seizes on a chair at an empty table, and claims it for her own. "And I'm doing quite well."
Damien gives Andrew a small look, grabs his mostly empty plate, gets up from the bar and sits next to Sandra at her very nearby table that is no longer so empty. "No, no, it's hockey. Hockey is much better than baseball. Baseball is too pastoral for my tastes, not visceral enough."
Noah smiles still, thankfully having heard Sandra ask the question he was avoiding. Noah shoves a straw in his mouth and takes a long sip of his soda as he watches the two.
"I can't say I'm a big fan of hockey. Too many people get hurt for no real reason." He looks back at Damien, briefly, before looking back at the TV. "Then again, I can't say I'm a huge fan of baseball either. I don't really follow team sports too much."
Genevieve re-emerges from behind the bar, carrying a crystalline, towering glass of refreshing water. She sets to chugging it, although when Sandra and Damien react to each other's presence, she half-coughs as a goofy grin interrupts her drinking. Finally settling herself down with an 'ahem', she begins to sketch out a few items of interest to herself. In this case, it appears to be a winged rhino, tail raised in alarm, running away from a car with its side door panels crushed in.
Sandra smiles as Damien joins her. "I must confess that I don't watch many sports either, although I'm very fond of figure skating. I thought about trying to learn, but...it's Texas," she says with a cheerful shrug. She gives Genevieve's cough an amused glance.
Damien starts patting around his jacket, looking for something in the pockets. "Hold on a sec...." He pats the lower left hand pocket and pulls out a small black box. He pushes it across the table toward Sandra. "In case I saw you today, I remembered to grab it instead of just leaving it on my dining room table." He looks over at Genevieve and waggles his eyebrows.
Noah watched Genevieve with some interest as she went behind the bar and back again.
Andrew peers over towards Genevieve as she re-emerges and then, hearing Sandra's comment adds, "Yeah, figure skating isn't much of a priority here. It's all about the University football team, as far as I can tell." As Genevieve seats herself and starts sketching, he gazes down at her work, noting all the details.
Genevieve looks pretty well entranced with her little project, finally drawing a slumped over figure with dizzy symbols over its head in the car. A last second dash adds a few, tiny horns above the unconscious figure, although it could easily just be loose sprays of hair. She mm-hmms smugly to herself, and taps on the bar counter for a few moments, pondering shading, when the sly glance from Damien catches her gaze. A quizzical glance is shot his way, and some half malformed comment about 'detachable' springs to mind, but she doesn't speak. Perhaps the art has pacified her.
Sandra raises an eyebrow, and pokes curiously at the box. "For me? Why, thank you, Damien!" She picks it up and turns it over in her hands several times before she even gets around to, finally, opening it.
Inside the box is a small silver cloud surrounding a round blue fire opal stone on a chain. It looks like the fire opal has a small, shimmering silver lining. It is flanked by a pair of smaller fire opal earrings. Damien looks a little embarrassed to be giving it in a bar, though. "I told you, I went shopping," Damien explains, "because I was feeling off-center and needed to get back centered and I saw this and thought very much of you."
Andrew continues to gaze at Genevieve's work, fascinated.
Sandra gently touches the stones with a fingertip. As they shift on the lining, they gleam. "Damien, this is beautiful," she breathes. "Thank you." She closes the box carefully, then leans over to kiss Damien again. "I shall wear them always." She starts to suit word to action.
Noah smiles brightly as he watches Damien and Sandra.
Andrew looks at the couple and smiles, to see them both so happy. He glances briefly up at the baseball game, which is entering the ninth inning, before looking back at Genevieve's work.
Sandra settles the necklace around her neck, and settles the earrings into the rarely-used holes in her ears. "There." She beams in Damien's direction again, before gesturing at everyone with the Easter Egg book. "What has everyone been up to, today?"
"Well," Damien says, "I worked all night trying to fix whatever my partner touched, and then gave up on work and came out to hang around for a while. I told these folks," He waves a hand at Genevieve, Noah and Andrew, "a story but it wasn't a very nice story and now, I am both lamenting in the lack of Stanley Cup and looking to the promise of some warm goodness this afternoon."
Genevieve finally catches a clue at the gaze flicked towards her handiwork. As if to show off, she flicks the scribbled piece in her hands, and holds it up by its sides to show off. "Seeeeeeeeeeeeee?" She appears to be used to having people stare at her unusual choice of work. Despite the silliness of her behavior, the work produced is fairly good, despite the poor choice of paper upon which it was drawn.
Distracted from the artwork, Andrew looks up and says, "I slept in a little late, ran over to my architecture tutorial and came here after grabbing myself a bite to eat back at home. What've you been up to?" Turning to Genevieve's work, he asks, "Not bad. Why that paper? And what weight of lead is that?"
Sandra hmms at Damien. "Perhaps you could find your Cup on the internet, or cable, or something?" she suggests, and then is caught by Genevieve's work. "That is lovely, Genevieve! You just did that sitting here?" She leans forward to get a closer look at the paper.
Genevieve is surrounded by Sandra and Andrew as they ogle her drawing, which features a winged rhino running away from a car it had just rammed. The KO'd driver appears to have either spiky hair or demon horns, it's hard to tell. She seems to have a decent grasp on anatomy and such, the rhino's hide rippling with its tossed head and pebbled skin, even if the more technical work still needs some help in her case. The car's lines are fuzzy at best from the multiple pencil marks. "Just plain' ol' numbah 2. I should probably use something harder, like a 5, to not leave as many marks, but... it's gratifying. Gives it the schoolhouse feel, you know?" As Sandra looms, she emits a squeak of alarm. "Okay, it's uh... yeah, I did. I just get thoughts sometimes, and put them down."
Damien stares uncomprehending at Sandra, and says in complete mock horror, "Lord Stanley's Cup is a HOLY RELIC. You can't just buy it on eBay! It's... it's... it's all that is good in the universe, and it won't be awarded this year. It doesn't belong to one person. It belongs to everyone in a collective whole of face bashing on ice. Although... you can buy holy relics on eBay. I've been meaning to buy enough that I can reanimate my own Saint. A finger here, a toe there..."
Smiling at Damien's comments, Andrew asks Genevieve, "They just pop into your head?" He leans a little closer to get a good look at the driver. "Are those /horns/?"
The door's bell gingles as it swings wide open. A tall nicely dressed fellow eases in through the door. Timon shuts the door behind him, and wipes his feet before entering any further. Instead of a mess of newspapers and clippings, he holds a single black leather briefcase in one hand. He surveys those seated in the bar and restaraunt. Before easing his way over toward the grouping of people situated around the bar, and closest table to the small shrine and bouquet. He notes the few familiar faces he recognizes with a small nod and orders up a scotch from the replacement barkeep once he reaches the bar.
With a sigh and the thumping of an overloaded dossier, Sylvia drops her latest project back into her briefcase. Two cups of coffee (one and a half of went cold) have passed since she last looked up. She motions from her table so she can actually attempt the eating part of lunch. Or dinner, maybe, considering how long she spent reading and re-reading.
Sandra turns and just stares at Damien. "It's...it's not that I /want/ the mental images of a patchwork shambling Saint, but they're just /there/. Waaaah!" With that melodramatic exclamation, she bends over and thwocks her head into the table a couple of times, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to make a satisfying sound. In doing so, she misses Timon's entrance. "Take this vision from my eyes!"
Damien just starts laughing, loud and a little weird with a slightly maniacal edge to it. "Imagine some Saint shambling about going, 'brains... brains... brains.' If the undead Saint eats your brains, do they become holy relics as well? I wonder." He eyes Sandra thwocking her head on the table, and slides some clean napkins under the spot so Sandra won't hurt herself and then peers over at Genevieve's work. He gets about half out of the chair to peer at her drawing, sit down, and suggests, "I think the little dude in the car needs wings. And I don't know what they sell on eBay, Genevieve. They're probably fakes. You know, in the middle ages, there were enough pieces of the One True Cross to fill a forest. In Rome, I personally saw three left forearms of John the Baptist. But people believe that these little dead bits of flesh convey the power of miracles... and they sell them online for about twenty bucks a pop."
Andrew looks across, slightly concerned at Sandra's behaviour, before looking back across to Damien and says, "As if anybody would sell a true relic on eBay. Or, for that matter, let anybody else see it, just in case."
Damien raises one slender finger to Andrew and says, "Cheese sandwich."
Timon simply stands and stares at the table Sandra is at. If you didn't know better you'd think he looks awe struck. He turns after a moment of staring, scotch in one hand and briefcase in the other. He walks past the lovely shrine in memory of Kurgan and Gen's flowers to where the young and boisterous girl sits drawing and attracting some attention. Perhaps she is less...'occupied' at the moment.
Giving Damien a have-you-always-been-this-crazy-or-is-it-a-recent-occurence look, Andrew ventures, "Uh, no... thanks. I ate before I came out. Nor do I have the money to buy one." He stops talking, before a third possibility occurs to him, "Nor do I think that anything that can go off is allowed to be a holy relic, so cheese sandwiches are probably out." Realising he's talking rubbish, he shuts his mouth, looking somewhat confused.
Sandra says, "Thank you," for the napkins, then sits back up and reaches out to fiddle with the little black box. "More seriously, I think they're kind of neat, myself. Not real, of course, but still. They represent something to people...I'd rather see them in churches or museums than sold. But it doesn't have to be, well, all /official/ to help people hold their strength. Even a cheese sandwich," she adds, firmly.
Damien gives Andrew a look that conveys the thought of, "why yes, I have always been this crazy," and he throws his head back and lets out a stream of what can only be described as classic maniacal, insane, bad-guy laughter right out of a comic book. Then, acting like nothing happened at all, he looks up at Timon who is heading right toward his and Sandra's table, gives him a much saner smile, and asks, "Can I help you? Perhaps you would like a holy cheese sandwich? I hear they're on special today."
Genevieve seems appeased with Damien's response, and then chuckles at the veritable monkey wrench it throws in the thought processes of others. Sandra's own behavior parallels her own, and as such, she doesn't raise an inquiry, and has long, long, long ago learned to not admonish others for being less interested. The others proceed unmolested. At the suggestion to draw wings, she thinks for a second, and then scribbles in a loose shape of splayed, half-furled pinions -- but then makes a point to fill in the details to make them leathery. "Ah-ha!" She says as she jabs a finger to the paper, feeling like the cat's pajamas. As she feels Timon's gaze on her, she peeps. "WantMeToDrawYouSomethingICouldDoItQuickForMaybeTwentyDollarsAndYouCanKeepItJustAsLongAsICanTakeADigitalCameraPictureOfIt!"
"Symbols are all well and good," Andrew replies, "but they don't actually have any imbued power from God, so they're completely different things, aren't they?" He throws Damien another look, before saying, "I thought it was the Roast Haunch of Saint on special today?"
Timon doesn't bother to give Damien a glace at his cheese sandwich comments. But politely says "No thanks." as he walks by. He does indeed wait for Gene to acknowledge his pressence. But seems to be caught off guard, by her offer. "Well, ummm. No actually." He clears his throat. "How are you doing Genevieve? Have you had a chance to read the card I left for you and for Tyrr?" He bows his head slightly as he speaks solemnly.
Sylvia's attention is drawn, whether from the topics of conversation, or simply the boisterous antics with which it is presented, towards the group of exuberant patrons. Sipping from her freshly refilled mug, she observes in silence for the moment, though the occasional slight frown twists her lips.
Sandra gestures to Andrew. "Can we say for certain that they don't, or that they won't in the future? Perhaps God gives more subtle blessings that we understand...there's a power just in belief. And if looking towards a symbol helps a person have the strength to reach for their goals, then which of us can say that, somewhere, God /isn't/ smiling?" She breaks off to look at Timon, curiously.
Conceding the point, Andrew nods. He follows Sandra's gaze to also look at Timon, wondering why he seems to be so solemn.
"Augh, will you people stop talking about Saint body parts??!" finally erupts from Genevieve, as she dwells upon that as a potential fate of any number of Soldiers she knows. Sylvia's approach is still stealthy, because soon, her full attention is pulled towards Timon, mouth puckering slightly as she hugs the drawing to her chest, the paper crumpling against her in such a way that the rhino appears to be peeking out from her arms. Slim shoulders rise and fall, as she answers quietly, "Yeah. I still miss 'im. It was nice of ya."
Damien gives Sandra a warm smile and then watches everyone else watch Timon, because watching everyone else is occasionally far more interesting than watching one person, and People are Cool.
Sandra immediately ducks her head at Genevieve's chastisement. "I'm sorry. It was inappropriate," she acknowledges quietly.
Timon rests a hand briefly on Gene's shoulder and gives a sympathetic nod. "It lifts my spirits to know that you are all right. Though I can't help but feel partially responsible for your loss. Perhaps if buisness had not pulled me away for so long I could have been here and helped in some way." He lets go, and looks curiously around for a moment. "Tell me, how is Tyrr taking this?"
Looking between Genevieve, Timon and Sandra, Andrew clearly doesn't really know what they're talking about, but chooses not to say anything, as it might be deemed inappropriate.
Damien exchanges a look with Andrew that conveys: I don't know what is going on either, but it might be best just to stay politely quiet.
Catching Damien's eye, Andrew nods subtlely in response. He then goes back to observing Timon and Genevieve, placing special attention on the former of the pair.
Roll by Lei: (1) (1) (1)
Sandra jumps as her cell phone rings. She doesn't even have to answer it...one look at the number has her leaping to her feet. The little black box is swept up with the book, as she leans over to give Damien a quick and fiery kiss. "Take care, I have to run." She looks at the others. "And you guys try to show him," a wave at Timon, "the meaning of the word 'fun'. Consider it the good deed of the day." And then she's off!
Genevieve furrows her brow. "Why wouldn't I be alright? Oh, wait, that Lyesmith jerk," she says in afterthought, rubbing over her throat. The slim female says, "Just lots of questions to add on to the heap that already exist in my mind that haven't been answered for years. They'll have to collect dust too, as well. Do you like it?" She gestures to the fluffy-feathered rhino and its path of carnage through demon-driven cars. "Although you did mention pencils, do you do any kind of drawing yourself?" She hrns to herself, and shakes her head. "It didn't happen here, Timon. It wouldn't have. He was on his way to the te... the shop." A sidelong glance is cast towards Sandra's exuberant departure. Then, slowly, under her breath, it returns. "Damien's gotta girlfriend, Damien's gotta girlfriend..."
Damien perks up when he gets the quick and firey kiss from Sandra, a perk up that's reflected warmly in his eyes, and he sighs happily as he watches her go. "Yeah, yeah," he says quietly, "I have a girlfriend, and she's pretty awesome."
Glimpsing a lot deeper into Timon than expected, Andrew lets out a deep breath of air, before looking at him in a new light. He looks across at Genevieve and replies, "I'm doing a Fine Arts degree at the University, which is why I was interested." He follows her glance across to Damien and Sandra and abruptly looks away.
Timon nods slowly at Gene. Deciphering her odd phrases and quirks. He looks about once more and seems to look dissapointed as Sandra leaves. "Rats, I should see if I can catch her." He bows gently to Gen. "Tell Tyrr that Im looking for him if you see him before I. And I shall be back later. Good evening and goodbye for now."
Noah wanders back in from an extended trip to the restroom. He took his backpack with him and he's returning with it. He drops it at the base of his seat, leaning against the bar. Noah smiles to any friends around him and then reaches for his luke warm soda.
Genevieve ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhs for a good long time at Andrew, enchanted with his vocation. "I would love to see your stuff! I never had any formal training," she says. A moment later, she belatedly calls out after Timon, "He's dealing with it in his usual way. Which involves not sticking around here. I usually try to stay out of his way when bad things happen, I push my luck with him as is on good days." She allows a lopsided, sheepish grin at that, before she chuckles some at Sandra and Damien.
"I'm minoring in Architecture, so it's largely technical work I'm doing. I do have some work besides that though, mostly of the Treaty Oak downtown," Andrew nods. "I'd be happy to show you my stuff sometime." He looks across at Noah returning and nods a greeting.
Noah's smile brightens as he notices Lei and puts a face with a place, then he thinks. You see his fingers moving as he counts by tapping them against his thigh as Noah counts how many days since he saw Lei in the hospital.
Damien sighs, and stands. He wanders over toward Andrew, and says, "Hey, it's getting late, and people are going to wonder where I disappeared to. As much as I want to sit around talking about cheese sandwiches all night long, I need to make an appearance. I have to. Give me a call later?" He seems pretty oblivious to any earlier strange looks. "Just for some moral centering."
Andrew stands and extends his hand out to Damien, saying, "I will do, sure. But I think I'd better be going too, as I need to have an essay corrected with the stuff that came up in my session /this/ morning, for tomorrow morning."
Noah gives up on the counting and hops off his chair. Grabbing his backpack he makes his way back towards the restrooms again after muttering something about chili peppers.
Damien takes Andrew's hand and shakes it. "Alrighty. I'll see you later. You have my number."
Nodding in response, Andrew withdraws his hand and picks up his bag, "I do indeed." He turns to the group in general, bids them goodbye and heads for the door.
Genevieve hmms to herself at the sudden exodus of people from the bar, and shrugs to herself, before slipping off to the back door. "Well, that proved interesting," she muses to herself, mentally reviewing the reactions of Andrew and Timon in particular.
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