Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 14 April 2005 |
| Who: | Bronwen, Hirah, Inarin, Kacela, Nicodemus, Soludarius (as Sheila), Sylvia, Victor (NPCed) |
| What: | A test run of a dispersal device works as planned, even if one of the schemers becomes the hapless victim of several other's resonances and Songs. |
The Drag - Austin
The Drag is one of the busiest places in the entirety of Austin, spanning many blocks, primarily on the streets of 6th and Guadelupe. Shops, restaurants, and the like fill every building, and due to its close proximity to UT, they are more inclined to be the ecletic sort, or failing that, the sort that sell groceries and other sundries. In fact, UT's own student co-op can be found on the Drag. There's really no telling what they'll be selling in other cases -- the stores and restaurants offer most everything the average mind can imagine, and quite a few things it may've been a little slow to. Shady oak trees typically line the streets, and it's not uncommon for people to spend a day hanging out here, walking the length of the Drag to browse its many establishments.
Sunset on a Thursday night brings with it the kind of people who can afford leisure at all times, people equipped with bank accounts that can handle a sumptuous meal over business, the day before payday. It's questionable whether or not Victor Drangirg fits into that category. The bright eyed man, probably in his fifties, glances over non-progressive bifocals down the street, as if sizing up the crowds present. The salt-and-pepper haired man draws his mouth down in a frown, dabbing his finger in the glass of the ice water set in front of him at the greco-roman themed restaurant, and then raising it to the air in the patio as if to test the wind direction. Impatiently, he cranes his head over his tweed-clad shoulder, squinting through his glasses, awaiting the appointed time.
Outside Victor's restaurant, one of the Drag's finer, a black limousine pulls up and idles. Nicholas Lyman, who seems to have acquired a distaste for his Navigator lately...if he even still has it...pops out. At the two hulking men that try to get out after him, he raises a cautioning hand. "Not tonight, boys," the industrialist warns, "You might attracted unwanted attention, I'm afraid." His voice rises with a pleasant note, as he waves them back inside, "Take the night off." With the two guards hesitantly withdrawing back into the limousine, Lyman takes it upon himself to secure the doors and tap the roof to send them on their way. Smiling at the departure, Lyman pivots neatly in his dress shoes, augmenting himself to the restaurant and its patio hostess that waits outside behind a wooden stand, "Mr. Lyman here for Mr. Drangirg."
'Rin, supported by his cane, makes his way around the corner of Victor's restaurant and takes a lazy look around. His eyes particularly gravitate towards Nicodemus's limo, but he hardly approaches -yet-. He taps his cane against the sidewalk thoughtfully.
Apparently a cold snap has hit The Lightbringer's realm, as Sylvia seems to have left the office while actually leaving the office behind. She is even dressed down for the occasion, namely without her briefcase and stack of files. Though not exactly affluent, she is en route to the open air patio of the restaurant as the limo arrives.
It's positively a night of chance encounters. Kacela herself is currently dressed in typical business attire, forgoing the more ostentatious outfits that typically match her setting. The beads upon her braids clack about her shoulders, and it's only a matter of time before she spies several of those present. Her long strides easily catch her up with Inarin, and with an easy enough motion, she extends one hand to hook an elbow around the arm not preoccupied with the cane. She lingers for a moment, and casts a sly glance towards Inarin. "Were you coming to the dinner too? You should," she inisists, lips parting slightly. She mentally notes Lyman's entry into the restaurant, although she's still a bit unclear on whom he was meeting with. She hasn't quite caught sight of Breanna.
At Lyman's arrival, the hostess' eyes instantly light up. She has witnessed Mr. Drangirg's impatience...repeatedly. "This way," she instructs, before leading the wealthy business owner through the patio tables to his dinner meeting. Moving quickly to avoid any further incident, the hostess leaves another dinner menu at Victor's table and retreats to her station to receive any other guests. Meanwhile, Lyman is much more pleased to be in Drangirg's company. "Victor," he starts, "You look well? You've been getting your sunlight I hope."
Victor practically contorts himself in his seat, straining to find his benefactor. The actual arrival of Lyman causes the man, unruly hair and all, to hunker down in his seat in anticipation. Even as the lone businessman arrives, and before he can even take a seat, the wiry man stands in his seat, one hand extended. "I hear I am not the first of my kind you've placed within your company's care. I must thank you for -- " Lyman's words cut him short, and he gives an obsequious bow at the waist. "Oh yes, the wireless network helps, but we usually don't get out much, what with so many exciting developments we have in the research area. Contacting suppliers can be a bit of a pain, but..." He cuts himself off at the tangent, a faint shade of worry to his features. "You've been discreet, correct?"
One of the newly-arrived patrons catches Bronwen's eye. "Well, well," she muses softly to herself as she halts her slow walk across the street from the restaurant's patio. "Fancy who that is."
'Rin twists slightly to look at Kacela. He doesn't try to get out of the armlock and the only sudden turn is what shows any surprise on Rin's features that someone had decided to lock their arms around his. He bobs his head slightly, not entirely sure what's going on, but not particularly feeling threatened by this unexpected move. Not getting that 'feeling'. "Alright," He says softly, walking into the restaurant (with Kacela) and his cane punctuates each step. He glances briefly in Bronwen's direction.
Kacela says, "You'll have to excuse me, I just haven't seen you in such a long time. How have you been doing? Any luck hunting?" She seems happy enough to chatter with Inarin, genuine interest in her voice. Following his gaze to Bronwen, Kacela flashes aa perverse grin. Toward the hostess, she says, "We'll be joining the Lyman party, and no, he wasn't expecting a fourth, and yes, he doesn't mind." After a few moments, she starts forward again, gait sedate to match Inarin's as she continues to drape herself upon his arm. Upon reaching the table with the two already-seated gentlemen, she disengages herself, and while seating herself, nods greeting. "Nicholas."
Taking Victor's hand firmly, Lyman nods and states, "That is correct. In fact, at least two of your colleagues are employed at the plant presently." Still, even after the preliminary handshake, Lyman delays in sitting, glancing back to the hostess stand. "I apologize for my lateness," he says, his voice easing into its usual charm, "My last meeting was with the University Dean. Long story short, he thinks everything on his campus is extraordinary." Finally, Lyman slips into the chair opposite Victor. "Of course," he returns with a reassuring nod, "I have only made hints about this project to one of my most trusted comrades." A dark note suddenly takes to Lyman's voice, his voice dropping as he smiles, "It's ready then?"
Lyman's mischievous grin does not fade as the unexpected arrivals reach his table. "Speak of the devil," he comments casually, turning his head back at the familiar voice. Quickly shifting back to Victor, he raises a hand that urges the other man to remain seated. "It seems she suspected something," Lyman says amusedly, adding a shrug of his shoulders to the words, "Not to worry, they're with me."
Without the pomp and circumstance of limousines, bowing, bodyguards or the appearance of sudden elbow ornamentation, Sylvia is seated at a small table in the restaurant. A nice enjoyable evening for one, it seems. Of course, according to Murphy's calculations, some terribly urgent matter should be arriving via cell phone just about the time her meal meets the table...
Lyman's mischievous grin does not fade as the unexpected arrivals reach his table. "Speak of the devil," he comments casually, turning his head back at the familiar voice. Quickly shifting back to Victor, he raises a hand that urges the other man to remain seated. "It seems she suspected something," Lyman says amusedly, adding a shrug of his shoulders to the words, "Not to worry, they're with me."
A cab arrives on scene and pulls up to the front of the restaurant. Sheila steps out of the cab and offers cash to the driver. Turning around she walks up to the hostess taking a look around. A smile graces her face and she seems to have a bounce in her step. "I'd like a seat for two please... my date hasn't arrived yet it seems.. so i can wait."
"Hurrm..." 'Rin looks towards the hostess, and then to Lyman. He doesn't seem to appreciate the 'speak of the devil' comment but he doesn't say anything about it. To Kacela, 'Rin seems to consider the question for a few moments before adding, "Apologies. Might be some luck today." And 'Rin almost even smiles. He doesn't really react to the draping, but he doesn't shoo it off either. He figures it was to make Nicodemus jealous or something, admirable goal to see if he's weak at Heart. 'Rin sits down, likely near 'the devil' and adds, "Lyman. Good to see you're well."
Bronwen moves slightly off to one side to discreetly lean against a handy lamppost. She seems to have decided to do a bit of off-duty observation on Lyman's table.
With an anxious bob of his head, Victor states, "Yes, and it was quite the nightmare keeping everything separate so that they didn't know what was going on. I'm sure you've had your own hands full with the workers. What a terrible distraction that must be!" Victor tuts out to himself, before stopping to gape at the arrival of Kacela and Inarin, a querying gaze darting between the two before he nods to Lyman. "They can be trusted, then?" He hunkers forward, eyes glittering even more. "As you know, in theory, theory and practice are the same. In practice? They are not. I didn't go with a full demonstration model just yet. The agents are still in reserve, but the delivery systems are in place, if you wished to let your... friends toy with it." He seems a bit sour, "An enclosed space would have been better," he complains, before sliding his gaze in frightened awe back towards the new arrivals.
Kacela shifts weight slightly in her seat, the older gentleman's nervous habit starting to rub off on her. She squints, noting the hovering presence of the other patrons. Bronwen's position outside the restaurant gets a lingering scowl of scrutiny, and for now, she pointedly ignores any open-mouthed gapes sent her way. "He said that we were with him," is all she offers in the way of acknowledgment. Her attention is not on the immediate setting of the table.
The hostess offers a small table for two not far from the group. Nodding to the hostess Sheila adjusts her jacket before sitting at the small table. A waiter appears and she orders a Daquiri. Looking around she look at her watch and seems to sigh to herself.
Methodically, Logan marches past the hostess. "Just meeting somebody for dinner," he reassures with a standard smile. However, once on the patio, the new attorney in Austin finds himself quite out of place. His gaze drifts from table to table, until settling on Sylvia. Deciding this is the woman he is meeting for dinner, Logan walks right up. "Hello there. I'm Logan Donohue," he says, so straight forward that he cannot be joking, "Are you the one that called me?" Of course, Logan has the wrong table.
Lyman does not even acknowledge the fact Kacela has linked arms with the other man, Inarin's cane intriguing him far more. "Thank you," he says, bowing before concern rises on his face, "What did this to you? Not the same source as my injuries, I hope. You were the one so quick to caution me against confronting him." A low grumble, combined with an irritable shift of those blue eyes, concludes Lyman's words to Inarin, "If I had your...talents...I would repay the favour you did me." With that said, Lyman turns back to Victor, his pleasant glow renewed...so much so, that his concern for Inarin may be promptly negated, "They can be trusted, I assure you. Now, shall we order our dinner first? Or will you proceed with the...demonstration?"
Roll by Soludarius: (1) (1) (1)
Sheila sits quitely to herself glancing around. Looking more bored than anything else, she secretly is listening.
Hopefully Sheila isn't a demon! "Cane not for injuries," 'Rin explains, "Not -my- injuries, anyway." He flashes a smile at Victor. It's gone in an instant, but he does smile for that one moment. He does notice that this fellow seems Vapula oriented. All this 'testing' just screams abomination weapon. Well, Vapula -does- do amazing work sometimes. Tapping his cane a bit again and seems contemplative for a moment, "Hurrm. Appreciate the sentiments, however."
Bronwen slips a cellphone out of an inner pocket of her jacket and places a call. As she doesn't remain on the line for very long, she obviously isn't calling an older relative to get chatted to for quite a while. Instead the phone is put away soon after its use and the cop pushes off the lamppost to head back southwards.
Awaiting the arrival of her meal, Sylvia looks up to the sudden arrival at her table. At his statement and question, one delicate brow arches upwards. "Hello. I don't believe so. Your name does not ring any bells, at least." She does offer him a casual smile, however, as she could be mistaken. "What is it you are here for, Mr. Donohue?"
Victor states, hands crushing a napkin in his hands as he keeps them busy, "Perhaps a round of appetizers first, at the very least?" He seems hopeful, rocking in his chair. However, as he is not otherwise prompted, he doesn't volunteer anymore information.
Kacela appears to have convinced herself that despite the strengths of her allies, she was surrounded by enemies. A small victory rings out in her head as she watches Bronwen withdraw, and she leans back in her seat. But, it never truly ends. Logan arrives, and he earns a look that could wilt concrete columns from Kacela. The conversation around the table continues mostly unheeded, Inarin's words barely registering as she glares towards Donohue.
Looking down at the menu, Lyman rubs his hands together vigorously and breathes a sigh. "Very well," he says, obviously having an appetite for something other than food. Reluctantly, Lyman rises to his feet, waving for a server. Before the waiter arrives, he smirks in Kacela's direction, "As you no doubt have guessed, this is the project I was eluding to earlier." This is before he dips in toward Victor, whispering, "When you have your materials, how long until you have more of these units?"
Sheila notices Logan out of the corner of her eye, checking something in her hand she asks a passing waiter to fetch him.
'Rin glances towards Bronwen and then adds, "Enjoy meal. I need to check something outside. Call if trouble." He stands up with his cane and, without using it for any sort of aid now, briefly bows towards Victor. "Also, water's fine." He then slides for the exit now, likely checking to inspect to see if Bronwen actually called for 'the cops'.
"A strange business call," Logan comments. Evidently, his circumstances are not strange enough that they might affect his plain tone of voice. "I am suppose to meet a young woman here," Logan eventually explains. "I won't trouble you further," he concludes, bowing out to search the patio further. Yet, just then, the weight of Kacela's gaze is felt and Logan is brought to an instant halt in front of Sylvia's table. His features, so stagnant, seem to reassemble as his eyes narrow on the other woman. Suddenly, Logan has been affected and breathing heavily, he looks to the others at Kacela's table. Yet, he quickly simmers, recovering as the waiter interrupts and points him in Sheila's direction. Logan walks away, though systematically looking back over his shoulder...
Victor agrees, "Oh I know, but the real fun will begin later. I just... oooh, the mozarella sticks, and the poppers..." He seems a bit absorbed in taking care of basics. "I don't think that you will be disappointed. I don't think that we'll need to bother with payment." He recoils some at the undertone in Lyman's words, "Oh, a week, EASY. All that's required is transport and then loading into the delivery cartridges." His expression turns nearly paternal with pride, as he looks back towards one of the storm drains lining the busy street.
Sheila looks over at the small group with a glance, seeing that logan is distracted by something over there. She continues to just listens waiting for logan to arrive.
Sylvia offers Logan a slight shrug at his explanation and apology. As he walks off, she starts to offer a placation, but it trails off upon her lips as she notices his sudden change of mood. She follows his attention towards the gaudy pinstripe pretender, then her companions. It lingers there for the moment.
Those looks over the shoulder are well justified. Kacela actually leaves her seat, standing up with enough force to cause the glasses to rattle. The methodical click of heels on the marble tile announces her pursuit of Logan, her chin inclined to nearly touch her collarbone as she advances, malevolence writ upon her form. It's enough to make some of the other cafe goers to cringe.
"Excellent," Lyman says, that single word capturing his response to the timeframe and the payment system Victor has devised. Waiting to make further comment, he turns to the waiter, "Mushrooms Neptune for me, please." Then, when the server departs, Lyman bows his head back to the man opposite him, "I thank you for your generosity and your...straight forward cooperation. They are hard to come by in our ranks." Still, beaming, Lyman follows Victor's gaze to the drain, "It is my hope that Austin could become a united front...where we all might come together to seek mutual interests."
Lyman is perhaps the only one not taken aback by Kacela's glowering chase of Logan across the patio. He gives a casual glance backward, smirking somewhat. "An ex-boyfriend?" Lyman wonders aloud, clearly quite amused with himself. In actuality, he trusts Kacela's motivations and he does zero in on the focus of her ire for a moment. He quickly turns back to his dinner meeting and his demonstration, however.
Logan is all the way over to Sheila table and in the middle of his introduction when he detects the stalking footfalls behind him, "Good evening, I'm Logan. You're the one that called? Have we met..." Logan stalls abruptly, though he never stutters. He turns smoothly around.
Sheila sits quietly as Logans sentences stop, she glances at the approaching woman as if she recognizes her. Sitting quiet she await the confrontation to see what occurs.
Victor happily snaps up the morsels once they arrive on the table, and he muses for a moment, "Maybe salad, too, they always do a good job on their pepperoncinis," he muses. The departure of the black woman earns another jitter from the man, before he ahems, and then focuses his attention on Lyman again. "If only our other applications could interest you," he says ruefully, before emitting a faint 'ah ah' to himself as he raises the face of his watch as it reaches the top of the hour.
And then, to the north and west of the restaurant, a shroud of mist jets out of that storm drain, the plume boiling upon itself in an orangish-yellow cloud that clings to the street, not rising more than 10 feet above the pavement. A few passers-by recoil from its depths.
From down the street, several voices can be heard laughing together as they approach the patio of the restaurant. As they come within range of the lights from the establishment, its revealed to be a group of three persons, two male and one female. The man in the middle, quite attractive in a brooding sort of way, has his arms around the shoulders of the other two. The other man, a little younger looking and blond, is saying, "...but then she actually drank the whole thing!" The woman giggles with the staggering timbre of a drunk and leans heavily on the first man. "Oh Devon! Letz get some food," she slurs. "I'm sooo hungry."
Devon, apparently the dark one in the middle, gives a sly smile. "I bet you are," he cranes his neck to playfully nip at her ear. She squeals and then laughs, while at the same time the blond guy strokes the back of Devon's neck.
Kacela closes in on Logan with the same glint of intent in her eyes to match that of a hunting dog bearing down upon a cornered hind. The singing of blood within her mind surges forth, Logan squarely in her line of sight. Sylvia is ignored for the moment, and Kacela slams down the palms of hands on the table closest to Logan, tilting her head and pursing lips as she sizes him up. The taunt from Lyman registers, and in fact, serves to redirect her line of thought. Almost regally, she twists around to regard her typical business partner. "You assume too much," she states coolly. Her mind races forward, gaze and mind boiling to match the display of smoke further down the street. "This is neither the time nor place," she spits out toward Logan, although it seems clear that she is reminding herself of the matter. Thinking back to Nicholas's earlier dealings with the lovely blond man in Lux, she cosniders another possiblity, and then relents, snapping herself back upright with squared shoulders, turning back to the railing to cross arms over her chest as she surveys the street, the trio -- and in particular, the man in the center -- earning an incredulous gaze from her. And oh yes, that fog floating their way as well.
Lyman idly picks at his mushrooms, his gaze not centred on his plate, but the interaction between Victor and his watch. For a time, his expression becomes bland, even bored. But then, at the other man's hum, Lyman's face seems to ignite, his eyes blazing with excitement as he looks back to the streets. Even before the strange cloud rises into the air and begins wafting through the streets, Lyman is speaking, amusedly to himself, a hand raised in an appeal to the skies.
Roll by Nicodemus: (5) (5) (4)
Sheila notices the reactions at the groups table. As the seem to look up she glances into the direction and watches as the gas clouds ermerge her eyes squint for a moment, helpless to do anything about it. With patience and calm nerves she looks at the gases, unable to do anything she looks back at logan. Other eyes watching.
As the material disperses, there's a light dusting in an area of about thirty feet upwind, and an entire plume extending the length of half a football field. Pedestrians seem to be fighting off the annoyance. There's no screaming, no howls of agony, no thumps of flesh falling five to six feet to the ground. Instead the material drifts past harmlessly, and Victor breaks into a laugh and a giddy clap of hands. "And there you have it!" He practically exults, although at this point, claiming credit for a rather elaborate, widespread paintbomb may not be the wisest thing right now, considering the care that most here take in tending to their coture.
Calm under fire, Logan stares back at the irate woman, a dry apology going back to Sheila, "Excuse me, miss. I have a small matter to attend to". This time Kacela is unable to elicit even a twitch from the man, whose facial features remain stone like. "Yes," he states, in a simply reply, "Judgement is inevitable and time irrelevant." Though his voice is as always, bland, there is something firm in this statement, some level of personal belief here. Indeed, it is perhaps the only opinion Logan truly has. He looks after Kacela, perhaps recalling the other he has judged here in Austin. She, whom Logan as so much hope for..."My first analysis provided me with no reason to believe you could rehabilitate. Have you anything to say for yourself?" Awaiting an answer, Logan is quite statuesque, not even allowing a single glance in Sheila's direction.
Devon and his two companions head towards the restaurant, passing by the quickly dispersing cloud. The girl coughs and waves a hand in front of her face, the blond man just making a face. Devon seems not to notice, and the three make it to the patio and take a table at one end. Again, Devon is in between the other two, who sit very close to him. As they glance over a menu and chat between themselves, Devon takes a casual glance around the patio. If he yet notices Kacela, he makes no sign. "Gary," he says quietly as he reaches over to put a hand on the blond man's knee, "just order me some wine. Tanya, don't get too much. I don't want you barfing in my bed again."
'Rin slides back in, having managed to avoid the paint, it seems, and the stink. He sets his eyes on Lyman for a good, long moment. His cane goes 'tic'. "My apologies." He says again, quietly this time with no humor but no malice either.
Kacela bats eyes as the invocation of Shields fails. For a moment, with snatches of colored mist wafting around her, Kacela fixes Nicodemus with a look that reads 'we're screwed!', readable from even across the patio. However, as she stands, not feeling any tightening of lungs, she scowls in some confusion. A suspicious glance is cast toward the gleeful Victor. "You little worm," she begins to say, indicating that she was not paying attention to the gadgeteer's earlier description of what he had planned for the night. And then, Logan's words come, probing. It's a sore topic for her, given her aspirations for honor. She whirls back upon him, and hisses out in a vicious whisper, leaning in toward Logan, teeth biting at the air, "And what /could/ I say to change your mind? You saw what my attempt at properly handling the sword resulted in -- utter rejection. Not even a pause in that brute. I didn't cast myself from the light, I never had a chance to partake in it in the first place!" Oh dear, it's rant time. Still in a breathless, hushed voice, she bears down upon him, fingernails digging into the table's finish, "How can one even begin to attempt this supposed rehabilitation if all attempts, no matter how poorly attemped, are turned away out of hand?! THAT is what I have to say," she ends bitterly, before straightening back up, and turning back toward Lyman and his friend Victor.
Noting pedestrians' reaction to the air born substance, Lyman does not finish the last word to his song. His brow ruffles and he looks curiously to the giddy Victor, "Non lethal, I take it?" Lyman does not wait for the man to answer, he just smiles, "Of course, that is what you need me for." Looking over the patio and noting the lack of serving staff, he adds, "Shall we call it a night? Your materials will be delivered to you by morning."
From across the street a bird flies off towards the airborne smoke. Turning into an alley it swoops down onto a rat which it does not grab. Fluttering upwards it flies off. The Rat, on the otherhand, scurries off into the gutters near one of the clouds origins. It searches to see what can be found.
After Kacela, Logan calls out, his voice rising in volume, though the sharp tone associated with yelling never takes to his words. It is the same even pacing, he normally uses. "Your point has been noted. However, not having any guide to follow is an unsatisfactory excuse. There are corporeal examples. That you are unfamiliar, totally separated from those facts, is impossible. That you exist is truth of that."
Roll by Inarin: (4) (1) (1)
Roll by Logan: (1) (2) (5)
Victor readjusts the goggle-like glasses, and nods happily. "Indeed. You're pretty sharp, Mister Lyman. The Fourth. I think I could excuse myself now, yes, Mister Lyman." Appearing satisfied, he stands, hand darting out to mash a trio of the mozarella sticks, even he stands, completely oblivious of the war of wills going on over on the far side of the patio. A puppy-like expression crosses his face as he spies Hirah's counterpart -- well, at least the female one.
Before too long, a tired-looking server finally arrives and takes the trio's order: a glass of merlot, a plate of cheese fries with a rum and coke, and a small house salad. Still stroking Gary's leg on one side and playing with Tanya's hair on the other, Devon finally turns his gaze on Kacela as she whispers so intensely to Logan and then moves to the other individuals. Wondering. Both Tanya and Gary seem oblivious of his divided attention, with expressions of anticipatory bliss on their faces as they continue to chat. Hoping to catch her eye, Devon continues to watch the nubile black woman.
'Rin glances towards Kacela and watch the conversation. He clucks his tongue a bit but otherwise merely narrows his yes at Logan. He gives Kacela a small bob of his head before approaching Logan, looking vaguely irritated and is about to open his mouth when he blinks.
Oh crap crap. Crappity crap crap.
Apparently changing his mind about messing with Logan, 'Rin smiles very sweetly at Kacela (even though in the back of his mind he has a feeling he won't ever live this down) and follows after her. He murmurs, "Hey," softly, "Do you want me to take care of him for you? Nice and easy, if he's a bother." His cane ticcing the floor as usual punctuates his sentence.
Rising up with Victor, Lyman laughs heartily with his new associate. Coming alongside the man, he gives a congratulatory pat on the back as they walk out of the restaurant. Indeed, this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
Kacela stops short at Logan's remonstration, and looks back toward him, brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? Examples of what? How can me being alive be proof that I... don't know what in the hell that I'm..." An utterly lost look crosses her features as Hirah's expression catches her gaze. And then Inarin appears, entirely too helpful. "Inarin... are you..." She sinks down into a seat. Horror at the sudden increase of attention is the best way to summarize the look on her chiseled features, and a helpless glance is cast towards Nicodemus's coattails as she realizes she's being /abandoned/ in the sea of hormones.
The Rat looks around for anyone walking in the sewers or mechanisms that might have released the clouds.
Sheila simply watches the male and woman as they trail off, leaving Logan alone. She glances at Logan aand wonders if he's thru playing.
As she finally looks over and meets his gaze, Hirah flashes Kacela his most winning and gonad-targetted smile, complete with an almost wink. That done, he looks back to his current companions and takes a sip from his wine, savoring the sharp bite of the dryness on his tongue. Beside him, Tanya drops one of her cheesefries and gives a little shudder, leaning closer to Devon. He puts an arm around her and whispers something in her ear, and then turns his head to put his mouth close to Gary's ear. "Let's go soon... back to my place." The warm breath from his mouth raises goosebumps on the blond man's arms, and he just nods mutely.
Roll by Hirah: (3) (3) (5)
Just before he passes the hostess stand, Lyman pauses, looking back at the mess Kacela has gotten herself into. He gives a gentle shake of his head and waves after Victor, "I'll be in touch." Shooting a smile in Kacela's direction, he cocks his head to one side, "Do you need a ride home?" The wording of the question does not say so much as Lyman's tone.
The closeness of the storm drain isn't too unpleasant, as it's intended to carry rainwater, and not other less desirable things. There's a metal item, about the size of a football, jammed in the drain -- it's unclear how it got in there without serious engineering issues. Nonetheless, there it is, complete with hydraulics, and a few canisters for pressurized gases, and a few other ingredients.
Logan is momentarily silenced by Inarin's approach, his bold brown eyes performing a quick evaluation of the man. Then, when the two turn and begin to leave together, they narrow, trying to guess at the relationship between the two. Logan cannot be certain, but he suspects the worst. Another demon. Still, Logan offers to clarify his earlier words, "There are examples here, of people that live their lives in accordance with those universal truths." Finally, Logan satisfied with the woman's retreat, settles across from Sheila, "I apologize."
As Inarin's words sink in, Kacela breathes out, "That would be wonder..." And then, a double-whammy. The most unfathomable, irrational epiphany strikes her. With mouth slightly agape, she just stares at the trio, the initial urge to make a quartet violently strong within. "He's not really my type," she insists to herself, "No real indication of money, power, no suggestion of..." She bites her lip to silence the inner monologue, clamping legs shut in the tightest crossing of thighs possible as fingers dig into the seat. A petulant gaze is cast towards Lyman, as some part of her begins to wonder just how apparent the tell-tale reaction is. Some part of her brain flashes back to the Morvoginian's cake scene in the second Matrix movie, and she raises a hand as she feels the sting of teeth finally breaking flesh. "Um, please?" she finally manages, the sound muffled behind her palm.
Lyman raises a brow at Kacela's strange behaviour, as he detects some girlish indecision. How unlike her. "Then, come along," he insists, "If you recall, we have work to do."
Sheila nods to Logan and motions to the chair, "Please sit.. and do tell me... That was a very unique.. interjection."
"May I ask your name first?" Logan asks, offering a hand across the table, "I must admit, I was rather..." He searches for the right word, "Sceptical of your phone call. You are looking for representation?"
Hirah lets Gary put money down for the barely-touched food and drinks, gulping down the last of his merlot in one brutal quaff. You'd think such a feat would make him splutter from the strong taste of the wine, but the dark-haired man just licks his lips and stands. Tanya tries to stand as well, but half-stumbled backward into his chair. With a desultory wave of his hand, he sends Gary to help her walk out of the patio area. "I'll be with you in just a second, loves." Taking the long way around to the exit, he passes near Kacela's table and pauses for just a second a mere couple of feet from her. "We meet again, if only in passing." Devon reaches down to put a hand on her shoulder for a moment, "You never did give me a call. We should have a drink sometime when I'm less... entangled." He gives a knowing smirk.
Sheila shakes her head, "Not at all.. Actually I was calling about.. Last Wed's casual meeting. Due to the events.. I picked your card off the ground and wanted to meet you personally."
The words from Nicholas strike a chord within Kacela, given the clear heirarchy that exists between the pair. Snatching up a napkin to stymie the blood from the self-inflicted bite, she appears on the verge of standing, before Hirah hovers over. "I really didn't think you were interested, given the different..." She considers for a bit, narrowing eyes, "Goals that our particular paths have set before us." However, she manages a shaky nod, before she stands. Pausing long enough to close eyes shut, she twists around slightly to take in a deep draught of Devon's scent. "I believe I will." And then, with a longer pause than proper, she finally paces towards Lyman's offer of escape. "Nicholas, I think there's something I want to talk to you about..."
"Oh," Logan replies, now piecing things together, "You were there for the..." Again, a pause. This time Logan uses it to survey Kacela's very gradual departure. He goes over the evidence he has collected on her...the facts...and determines, once again, that more is required. Perhaps her sentence will not involve violence, Logan determines. Perhaps, she can rehabilitate given more time. Now, able to fully enter his conversation with Sheila, he finishes his sentence, "You were there for her restoration? I see." He whispers, "You work for Yves?"
"You'd be surprised what my goals might be," is the soft reply. With a satisfied nod of his head, Devon slowly wanders away to join his little menage, glancing back over his shoulder once at Kacela before taking Tanya's arm and pulling Gary close to his side. Walking away, there's a distinct impression that Devon is really the only one in control of himself. And perhaps them, as well.
Inarin stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks after Nicodemus and Kacela. Because, well, you know. It's very improper. "Hurrm."
As she finally comes to his call, Lyman greets her with a grunting breath through his nose. "I might say the same thing," he says at normal speaking level, before the volume is turned down to a harsh whisper, "What was that?" With his eyes narrowed into suspicious little slits, Lyman gives Kacela a once over, before his gaze drifts to Hirah. Some might think it is jealous, but it truly isn't. Nicodemus has built his comrade up into a worthy soldier...some one so capable of playing the game. Yet, now, that estimable image is suspect.
Yes, for the first time, Nicodemus may be disappointed in her.
Sheila shakes her head and says, "I was there. Although, No I do not. I believe my phone conversation included that information. Although it is for another time. Sit and tell me about that woman who was most agressive towards you."
"Oh," Logan says, arriving at another realisation. "David," he states plainly, not really making a guess of it. Finally, trusting that nobody working for the diabolicals could have known where Logan was on Wednesday night without shielding themselves from Yves, he comes clean..."She is a demon. Guilty in the murder of somebody close to a local angel...a servitor, I suspect."
Kacela is about midway to Lyman's lips before the song performed on her by Devon relinquishes its grip upon her. Combined with the displeased tone and words, it's enough to cause her to backpedal one full pace, hands rising to her temples as she clenches her jaw. Squeezing her eyes shut, she grates out, "A SONG, I'd imagine!" Her voice actually raises, before she drops hands, and reopens her eyes, not daring to meet Lyman's. "I think I'm walking home tonight," she says limply, looking at the sidewalk once they vacate the cafe.
Sheila nods to Logan, "Indeed, and I'd fear much much more". She looks around to anyone nearby and maintains a whisper at the table, "I am assuming you are speaking of the bartender that was killed not too long ago?"
'Rin murmurs through his teeth, "Wanted get angel off of Kacela's back. Resonance backfired. Hurrm." He doesn't sound upset about it though, because he's in Love! He is vaguely unsettled at least.
As Kacela's mouth begins to move toward his, Lyman grabs his comrade by the shoulder, perhaps to hold her back and save her self the embarrassment...or perhaps to draw her in. He merely holds her steady, his eyes searching hers, not for desire, but for what game she must be playing. Then, the disturbance finally ripples out from the symphony and realization dawns. Lyman's gaze darts to Devon's table, only to find that the threesome has departed. "Interesting," Lyman hums, before a rather weighty gaze settles back on Kacela. Gradually, it brightens, "No, lets go. You've had prior dealings with him, yes? Tell me all."
Lyman also waves for Inarin to follow, "Come along. My driver can drop you off as well." Making out the other man's garbled message, Lyman smiles, "Angel. That much I gathered. Another we will have to rid ourselves of..."
"Fear is not something I'm built to feel," Logan explains, before adding, "Yes. And the angel, Tyrr...owner of Fado's restaurant." Then, with the disturbance from Devon's song reaching Logan, he twists in his seat, also eyeing the vacated table. "Did you feel that?" he asks, inflection still emotionless, telling nothing of surprise.
Logan adds, "So you are well integrated into the community here in Austin?" By that, of course, Logan means the angelic community.
After extricating herself from the grip of both the song and Lyman, Kacela glowers. She listens well to what Nicholas has to say, lingering in his wake to evade as much of his scrutinizing gaze as possible. Casting a sidelong glance toward Inarin, she manages a thin smile, before whatever vehicle Lyman summons appears. When the opportunity presents itself, she lodges herself in the tightest corner available in that classic sulk of hers. "He was sizing me up the other day in the cyber cafe, that's it. I guess he liked what he saw." Not very helpful, but it's pretty clear that her pride's smarting from her poor performance tonight, regardless of whether or not she had control over all the factors.
"Will punish self when affects wear off, much apologies." 'Rin leans against his cane, grinding his teeth briefly, before smiling again and saying, "Thank you, Lyman. Much appreciate it." 'Rin runs his upper teeth along his lower lip before adding, "Less subtle than Tyrr that one. Bash in head."
Jumping out of the conversation momentarily, Lyman issues a cell phone summons to his driver, snapping his phone shut quickly to absorb what Kacela has to say about her...attacker, if he can be called that. "I see," he says, burning the man's face into memory, "So, he isn't familiar with your celestial involvement? Then again, your identity might be compromised now that you can be so easily tied to me. Somebody that is not pleased with the unity we have tried to build here...somebody other that Uzal." Clearly, Lyman does not like this possibility, his words rumbling irritably. Any further speculation is put to rest as the limousine arrives to whisk them away.
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