Roleplaying
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Seminars
| When: | 24 October 2004 |
| Who: | Genevieve, Remy, Sarah, Tyrr |
| What: | Four angels get together after the events of the night before. Destinies seen, and minor misunderstandings. |
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.
Fado's isn't open just yet today, Tyrr having let his regulars know that they'd be opening at 2 PM today instead of the usual 12 PM. But yet, Kurgan has been seen letting in a few select people. Tyrr's just finished talking with someone who just left, and is not sitting at the bar chit chatting with one of the waitresses.
Remy appears to be one of those few select people, thankfully, as he's steps into the building with the permission of Kurgan. Ever since last night, the librarian's has questions, and now he's here to try to get some answers. The man removes his recently-replaced hat, eyes scanning the empty bar for the man he wants... And there he is, by the bar. Remy approaches the man, nodding to him in greeting. "Greetings," The man extends his hand out to Tyrr as he speaks. "They call me Remy, but you may know this already."
There's a moment of pause before Tyrr responds, as he nods his head to the back door, causing the waitress to walk off and disappear in the back room. Tyrr's eyes narrow slightly at the man, "What makes you think I may already know that?" Last night, Tyrr could only penetrate the upper layer as to who Remy was, his resonance recoiling on Remy despite himself; so this morning he focusses this time, without the distraction of explosions around them. "You and your friends were very lucky last night."
Roll by Tyrr: (4) (5) (1)
"Perhaps it was luck. Perhaps not." Remy smiles slightly as he withdraws his offered hand. "You appear to be the well-connected type, given last night's display." The librarian's eyes flick over towards Kurgan, then back to Tyrr. "Are we able to speak freely?"
The door jangles to life as a rather short female whisks in. Those that were at the warehouse fracas just might recognize her as the one distributing party favors in the form of hand grenades. She gives a cheery wave towards Tyrr and his conversation partner, and then flounces towards the seat nearest to Kurgan's location behind the bar. "Kurrrrrrrr-gie wur-gie! Can I have some lunch?" Despite the glower she gets, she flashes a grin at him.
It isn't that Tyrr's not a friendly man, it's just that he's very cautious when it comes to trusting people. This of course being a learned lesson /long/ ago. Just as Tyrr's about to respond, he sees Kurgan let in another person, then turns back to look at Remy, retaining his skepticism of the man, "Yes, we're able to. Everyone here is to be trusted, save perhaps you."
Given how dangerous a touch can be in the Celestial world, Remy wouldn't blame him. The librarian glances over to Genenieve, and nods in greeting to her as well before looking back to Tyrr. "Very well. It's not every day one hears a call to war and enough racket to alert every Celestial in the city." His expression shifts slightly, becoming more intent. "That wasn't a mere gang war at Tombstone Arms, we both know that. But you may know what really happened in there, something I would like to know as well, so I can know how it may affect my own work here in Austin."
There's a very intent look in his eyes, as Tyrr peers at Remy. The word that came out of Remy's mouth tells Tyrr all he needs to know. It tells him that he's either dealing with an Angel or Demon, and for the moment, Tyrr isn't sure and he's not going to play any guessing games. "Who are you." The words come out, not as a request, not as a polite question, but instead as if it's an order.
Genevieve bats her eyes again at Kurgan, and then twists around once in the spinny seat to peer at Tyrr and Remy. She hmms to herself, and then clatters off the seat to sidle up towards the pair. She doesn't acknowledge the cryptic words exchanged between the two, and then asks, "Since you're busy with the book guy, does this mean that I can go play with the axe?"
Remy straightens himself. "My name is Remliel, a Seraph in service to Yves." A bold, maybe even stupid move, but he believes he has enough information about this enigmatic man to ensure that he's not going to be leaving headless in a minute.
The narrow eyes don't disappear in the least, if anything, Tyrr's face becomes even more skeptical as his brow tightens. "There are many people who say they are something, while being something else entirely. Am I to trust your word? And what of the fact you don't know who I am. Tell me, Seraph of the Vague One, what is my Destiny, or alternatively, what is my Fate." Long ago, Tyrr had this question answered for him; so now it is time to prove yourself.
"Maybe he's a Balseraph!" Blurts out from Genevieve at Remy's declaration. However, a half-swat in the air from Kurgan sends her into retreat, and she snatches up the plate of what looks to be steak and absconds with it to a booth. "I need to work on this other idea ANYWAY. They'll take me seriously enough soon, I guarantee it."
And about then, a certain brown-haired professor from the University walks toward Fado's, frowning with determination. Something big happened last night - she wants /answers/, and she knows where to go to get them.
Remy glances over to Genevieve in mild irritation. "Please, don't even joke about such perverters of the Truth. I assure you that I am no such thing." He returns his gaze to Tyrr, and nods. "So you wish me to prove it? Very well..." The 'librarian's' eyes appear to unfocus as they stare into Tyrr's face, the Symphony gaining a small chime of disturbence as Remliel expends some of his Essence to see into the hidden places of the Tapestry, to see what the threads of Destiny and Fate hold for this man.
Remliel's eyes widen as he follows the threads to their final destinations, and they snap back into clear focus, staring directly into Tyrr's own. "A bright Destiny does indeed await you, should you follow it. Your Destiny sees you attaining the Word of Valour, a powerful word that in your hands would be sure to anger its former holder." He shakes his head. "Should you achieve it, your work will be cut out for you."
Genevieve simpers out, eyes narrowing slightly as she hits a nerve. "Well, it's not like Balseraphs wouldn't say THAT either, about being offended by..." However, as he continues to read into Tyrr's destiny, she mmmphs, and ducks her head slightly, continuing to scribble out patterns and designs for whatever cockanamie idea she's come up with.
Tyrr's face is hardset, as he remains steadfastly skeptical of the man he's sitting with right now. And as Remy finally states what he's heard long ago, or half of it anyways, Tyrr seems to lighten some. But there remains some degree of a wall between the two, Tyrr having some of his Archangel's skepticism and distrust of those who serve Destiny. "Proof enough for now. Before I answer your questions, why did Yves send you here to Austin? To maintain this 'truce' that has sat for so long?"
Sarah, feeling quite ready to wring a few answers out of people, finally makes it to Fado's -- and finds it closed. Well, this certainly puts a damper on things. She frowns at the door, and with no idea how else to handle this, tries /knocking/. Maybe they're inside...?
Kurgan looks through the closed blinds and unlocks the door for Sarah.
Remy glances back to Genevieve. "They are Liars. I am not." As if that would answer things, Remliel looks back to Tyrr. "I am here to help bring people to their Destiny. Yves has not decided to give me any more spefici assignments. However, it is difficult to do that if people are dying left and right because they're getting caught up in a war. As I know it cannot be stopped, I simply wish to know the full ramifications of what has happened so I can adjust my work accordingly."
Sarah arches an eyebrow. Jeeze, she feels like she's walking into some deep dark den of secrecy, or something. ...of course, at the moment, she probably is. Squaring her shoulders, she pushes through the door, ready to start demanding answers...
...and then she sees Remy, and stops, peering. "I see I'm not the only one who had this idea," she quips.
"But, but, they'd say that TOO..." Genevieve's eyes go wide, and she makes a face, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. However, she eventually lapses into silence, squinting at the ink-strewn paper towels she's using to draft up her design sketches. "Wonder if that tight-aft Renny would let me use that one sword... it'd work nicely for a gestalt weapon..." And thusly, she continues mumbling to herself, trying to capture the ideas darting about like hummingbirds on crack in her mind.
Tyrr hasn't stated who he serves, though carrying an axe and given his use of the Celestial language last night in mortal form, it's not that hard to figure out though. "The War must be won. Neutrality, for no good reason, serves no purpose beside placating the enemy. And that's what Austin has been a center for, neutrality for no good reason beside letting Angels and Demons meet and hang out. Such treachery, from anyone, is unexcusable. I'm surprised the Hyena hasn't already broken the truce." The words come out of Tyrr's mouth as Sarah walks in, though it appears he doesn't care if she does hear; but his focus does shift to her for a moment. Tyrr leans back in his chair at the table, slightly exasperated at the situation. "Last night, Michael and Baal apparently declared the truce over. Especially with Baal abandoning his Servitor like that to Michael."
Roll by Tyrr: (6) (6) (6)
Sarah arches an eyebrow, stepping further inside. "I see we're not bothering with pretenses and secrets today," she remarks. She walks up to Remy, responding to Tyrr's comments, "I guess that'd explain the racket last night, though. Must've been one seriously epic brawl, my head was pounding."
"Demons have Destinies too, some of them which would greatly benefit the Host should they come to pass. Naturally, the Prince of Fate works to ensure this never happens, and a dead demon cannot achieve his Destiny, let alone his Fate." Remliel shrugs, looking over to Sarah as she enters, and giving a wave. "Hello, Sarah. Good to see you again." He looks back to Tyrr, and continues. "This is my colleague Sarah, a Mercurian who I have worked with for a long time... And yes, the War must be won, but we need to remember not to lose everything for the sake of it. That would simply make any victory we gained hollow and worthless." The mentioning of Michael and Baal does cause a raised eyebrow, but he does not speak on it yet.
Tyrr's eyes go wide for just a second, a split second, as his focus on Sarah comes up with something. Unfortunately for those involved, he's very quiet when he's planning something. So as Remy states exactly who Sarah is, it doesn't register, instead Tyrr stands and says, "Excuse me for just one moment." Walking to the back room, Tyrr doesn't enter but instead reaches up above the door inside the room and removes his axe from its mount. And he walks right back, with rather clear intentions in his eyes toward Sarah, his axe upraised.
Sarah nods at Remy. "He says it better than I do," she chuckles. "Of course, he's also--where's he going...?" she peers after Tyrr as he excuses himself, she looks around for a few moments afterwards, and then finally Tyrr's re-entrance catches her eyes. It is perhaps understandable that the color drains from her face - even Vessels have bloodflow! "WHOA!" she squawks, making warding gestures with her hands - not a /Song/, just frantic gestures. "HEY! What are you doing?! Put that thing /down/, I'm not your /enemy/!" She starts to back away from the oncoming axe-wielder.
Remy's eyes widen as he sees Tyrr go for the axe. "What in the world do you think you are doing, man?" He quickly stands, staring in shock at the man who appears intent on cleaving Sarah up. However, it's rather obvious that he's probably not going to stop, so Remliel does the next best thing. He sings. With a resonant voice and gestures, the Symphony in the background takes on a soothing tone, relaxing strains of violin and cello emanating out in an attempt to forestall the potential bloodshed, directed at Tyrr.
Roll by Remy: (5) (1) (6)
Tyrr slows just slightly, holding out his axe over the table, a mere foot from Sarah's face. His holding the axe falters some as Remy starts to sing the song of Harmony; he lowers his arm slightly, resting the blade on the table. "Remliel, your 'friend' is no Mercurian, she is a Balseraph... and I will not tolerate her continued existance in this Pub." His words aren't threatening though, but instead come out with the calm tone of someone stating their nature.
Genevieve looks up from her scribbling with a curious mmmm? at Tyrr's agitation. She straightens up as he stalks out, and utters, "Uh oh," to herself. As he reemerges, she looks over towards Remy and the newcomer, "Mercurian or not, he seems to have something else in mind for you, and it ain't gonna be pretty..." She bats her eyes at Remy's invocation of the Symphony, a pleased 'ahh' coming from her glossy purple lips. However, he's still advancing, and with a 'yeep', a rush of stacatto beats surges upwards, ordering themselves and arranging into order, the rush of additional spend essence to boost her forward causing a significant ripple across the consciousnesses of others. "Don't do it, she likes my art!" she squeaks out at Tyrr, even as she jumps forward to shoulder tackle Sarah out of the way. Whether the motion would be accompanied by the kindness of the heavens or not, remains in question.
Roll by Genevieve: (5) (6) (6)
Sarah...blinks. And frowns. She also, incidentally, is about to extricate herself from beneath Tyrr's axe-blade (it is far, far, far too sharp for her comfort, and she dimly wishes she'd asked for some training in a whip or something), when Genevieve dashes forward and tackles her out of the way. The brunette lands with a hard *THUD* and a sprayed "OOF!", before working up the strength to smile at Genevieve and Remy. "Th-thanks, guys..." Then, she frowns up at Tyrr viciously. "What are you TALKING about? I think I'd /know/ if I was one of those /things/." The fact that the most basic part of being a Balseraph is lying to oneself is, for the moment, ignored. "Ask Remy! We've worked together for a long, long time." She doesn't think this is going to help, however, which may mean she's going to need somewhere else to eat from now on. Hmph. Helluva way to get inducted to celestial society in the area!
Remy finishes his Song, the echoes of the effects lingering through the Symphony in the area. "You say she is a Balseraph. Curious." Remy looks over to Sarah. "I trust her, but you certainly do not. I know her as a Mercurian through the times we have worked together. You know I speak the Truth. If I ask her for he truth, and I confirm it, would you accept this?"
There's a deep rooted hatred in Tyrr's eyes, but it can't come forward beside being seen just as a glassy shimmer in the corner of his eye, thanks to Remy's song. "A Balseraph by their nature will believe the lie they give. If one has the assumed resonance of a Mercurian..." Tyrr shakes his head, the rational aspect of the song still holding him, "Very well. I shall trust you to prove it." Tyrr's not necessarily happy about this, but he's an extremely old Malakite and former Seraph, he knows that sometimes resonating at times goes wrong.
Genevieve somersault-tumbles to the point that Sarah is whisked to relative safety, and puffs out her cheeks slightly as she turns towards Tyrr, an indignant expression on her face. "What's going on with you?" she upbraids the considerably taller man. However, she nods towards Sarah sharply, flicking her wrist slightly. "Yeah, sure thing. I'll need to squeeze some Essence out of him later for what he just did, he OWES me now." She raspberries towards Tyrr's direction, and then darts back over towards the booth with her sketches on them, slender hands hovering protectively over the half torn pieces of tissue.
Sarah mutters something positively poisonous, but it appears to be directed primarily at the fact that that axe is sharp. She looks up at Remy, clearly irate, and says, "Yes, Remy. I am a Mercurian, /not/ a Balseraph."
Remy tries to listen to the sound of the Symphony, to determine of the claim is true or not... And is unable to, the notes lost in the greater Symphony where he is unable to track it. He sighs, and looks over to Tyrr. "My apologies. I could not verify the Truth of the statement one way or the other. I appear to need a good deal more practice."
"I'll accept that perhaps I likewise need more practice, it appears that my connection to the Symphony fell short." There's guilt in Tyrr's voice, but still some skepticism. He's not entirely positive he /was/ wrong, but he'll err on the side of caution given Remy's word and Genevieve jumping in the way. The axe remains on the table however.
Sarah's still frowning, but she seems satisfied that she's not going to be killed for moving, so she stands, dusting herself off. "So glad we're on the same page," she mutters. She looks up at Tyrr, understandably upset about being attacked as soon as she arrived, but slowly calming down. "Okay. So. Now that we're not going to kill each other, /yes/, I am Sarah, I'm a Mercurian, and I'm a servitor of Yves, just like Remy here. Any other questions?"
Remy shakes his head, sitting back down again. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of better service... But hopefully, by the end of this we will all be able to come to a better understanding of each other."
"You wanted answers," Tyrr says as he looks over to Remy, with his brow tight he keeps looking over toward Sarah. He's not convinced still, and the song of Harmony has now worn off. But he's been around long enough to know it is sometimes better to smite evil later than right then and there. So he gives Sarah and Remy both time to prove it more effectively.
"I still want 'em, personally," Sarah replies. It's pretty obvious that Tyrr is going to have to be very convincing to get himself off the I Don't Like You list. "Okay, so Baal and Michael showed up and broke some kind of truce. I'm afraid all I got was the usual 'bright destiny' briefing. I don't have /any/ idea what the situation here is or was like." She frowns at Tyrr. "It's pretty obvious that even if you don't think I'm one of /them/, you don't trust me, and your actions have severely damaged my ability to trust you. But you know what's going on here." Sarah looks at Tyrr hard. She knows she could never intimidate a man like that, but she can certainly show that she's serious. "So, I'd like to ask you to /please/, tell me what's going on here. Can you trust me with that much?"
Tyrr's skepticism is abated somewhat by the way Sarah acts and specifically the 'bright destiny' comment. Leaning forward in the chair, he grabs the axe and sets it down on the ground next to his chair, just as a sign of good faith. "For the last few years, a few of us," he brings his hands back up to the table, "have been sent here by Michael to figure out exactly what some of the Angelics and Demonics who've been here for awhile had going. There's never any real conflict in this city. I found out a few weeks ago. They brokered a truce and meet constantly to do the proverabial 'shoot the s**t' with each other. Needless to say, some of us, including those higher up, weren't happy about this."
Sarah frowns - though actually more at the words than at Tyrr, by this point. Putting the axe down helped. "That seems...odd. I mean, I guess I can kind of understand the reasoning - the War's been long, and it's not surprising that a few likeminded individuals eventually got tired of it. But I sure wouldn't want to be one of the ones involved...half the forces on both sides must be livid."
Remy leans back, listening to be back and forth between Sarah and Tyrr. For now, he doesn't see any need to interrupt. Silently, however, he berates himself for his failure to keep everything running smoothly.
"The ones who know about this truce are. If you've been sent here recently, it's either pure coincidence, or Yves has some reason for you to be here." Tyrr pushes his chair back, leaning down to grab his axe before standing. "I need to run. If you're here in a few hours, we can continue this conversation. And as a note, as 'Angels', this place is always open to you, no matter the time or reason."
Remy nods. "Of course. I'll see you again. I have some ideas that may help to keep this from getting out of hand that we can speak of in the future." The librarian stands, putting his hat back on and turning to Sarah. "Well, now that this is over, I will be going as well. I know I have some things I must attend to."
"Knowing Destiny," Sarah says wistfully, "It could be anything. I serve him, respect him...but even I have to acknowledge that his inscrutability can make things hard, somtimes." She shrugs...then chuckles. "But then, some say that's half the fun." Sarah stands as well, nodding. "Alright. I'll be here then; for now, I suppose I should go as well. Good afternoon, gentlemen."
As Kurgan sees the group break up and the conversation end, he finally opens the bar for normal business. Especially given that a few irate people are outside.
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