Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 28 February 2005 |
| Who: | Bronwen, Cassius, Edmonds, Genevieve, Inarin, Pan, Ravid (as Ray), Timon, Tyrr |
| What: | The newest Michaelite to Austin is told to meet up with the others at a local popular restaurant. |
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.
Edmonds pushes open the door to the pub, shaking his coat slightly to shake off some of the rain that clings to it from outside. Giving the hostess a charming smile, he is lead to a table. Pulling off his coat, he drapes it over a chair to dry as he looks over the room, and the people in it.
The back door near Fado's bar opens with a rustle of the locks from the inside. Swinging open, Tyrr and Bronwen walk out from behind there... if you're perceptive you could catch a glimpse of several bladed weapons mounted on the wall across from the door in the back room. "Supposedly the Huriin has sent a few new people down, they're suppose to make contact soon."
'Rin steps in after Edmonds, head lowered, cane in hand as he seems to lean against it for support as he stumbles across towards the bar. He looks up and sets his eyes on Tyrr and Bronwen for a few moments, eyes darting over to peek into the backroom. Weapons? Well. He doesn't dally long and continues on towards his path towards the bar. "Let's see..." He murmurs to himself.
Edmonds flicks his gaze over towards the door behind the bar when it opens, his eyes narrowing a fraction at the brief glimpse he gets of shining metal weaponry. The shift of expression is gone after an instant. He settles back into his seat, his ordered drink arriving after a suitable interval. He watches Inarin's progress idly.
"Do they know where to go?" asks Bronwen as she shrugs back into her leather jacket while trailing after Tyrr down the hall. "Or do we have to track them down or keep an eye out for a signal of somesort?"
Timon walks into the bar carring his weight heavily over toward the bar. Giving a glance about the room.
"I'd assume the new people were told where to go. If not, it's fairly easy to spot like minded people in this city." Tyrr turns and closes the back door and locks it before moving around the bar to be on the customers side. "I just know that they're not of our 'make', if you get what I mean?"
Timon looks about for the barkeep, or a free waitress.
Inarin murmurs, "With the deicacy of an ogre," softly, drumming his fingers on the table. He looks towards Edmonds and looks at him with a bored expression on his face.
Edmonds sips at his pint, his roving attention slowly fixing on Tyrr. Inarin is more or less ignored at the moment, Edmonds idly waving the other man's attention away. He taps his fingers against his chin thoughtfully as he observes the impressively build owner. Given the growing evening crowd between him and the bar, overhearing the conversation's not possible, but still he watches.
"True enough," Bronwen replies. "Did you want me helping out Kurgan tonight or on the other side of the bar?"
Timon orders a shot of whiskey, and sets down his tools, taking a vacant seat at the bar.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we have to check ID after 6 o'clock," chimes out from the host's podium. "Aww, c'mon, this is no fair! You people are doing this to mess with me! I come here all the time!" Genevieve cranes her neck to see who else is present. "Tyrrrrrrrrrrrrr. You told them to do this to me, didn't you? I gotta present for Kurgan!" She waves her hands in the air.
Tyrr's eyes gaze toward the bar patrons and seem to linger on a few. He seems to hold his gaze on Inarin for a moment longer than the others, but simply shakes his head that what he was thinking couldn't be. "I'd say let Kurgan and the other Waitresses handle it tonight. We've had a long week 'upstairs' and should probably just relax for a few days." Just then Timon walks up toward the bar, drawing another shot of Whiskey.
Timon cranes his head slightly, tuneing in on the sudden outburst.
Edmonds blinks, and turns about in his seat to look over towards the entrance, and the source of the outburst.
Timon Asks for two more shots.
Inarin returns Tyrr's gae for a moment...before he glances over to Genevieve, and chuckles softly, "Thank you, miss." He stands up, not relying on his cane as much as he seemed to a moment ago, "You've done me a favor. Is there anything I can help you with?" It's always important to be a gentleman to the ladies, right? He hasn't ordered any drinks yet.
Timon looks the barkeep up and down with a steady gaze, and plainly orders the house special to go with his drinks.
Bronwen gives another shrug of her shoulders and hops to the patron side of the bar. "Neat shot of a single malt, Kurgan, when you've got a moment. MacArthur if you've got it, but if not, don't give yourself grey hairs," she calls out to the bartender with a grin.
Genevieve fixes the approaching Inarin with a quizzical look. "Favor? Huh? How?" She wrinkles up her nose, looking thoroughly puzzled before raising a single finger to salute those still comfortably arranged at the bar. "Y'all are just mad at the tapdance I did on that monkey's chest the other night!" What in the hell was she talking about? She then dives under the table. With an exasperated sigh and roll of her eyes, the host lets the regular, of-age, patron into her favored jungle gym.
Edmonds grins a bit at Genevieve's antics. And since the bouncers and waitstaff seem to be tolerating this, he stays put. Although he is watching with an amused air about him.
Tyrr just brings a hand to his forehead and shakes his head a small amount in disbelief. "I swear, some days I just wonder if it's better to lock her in the basement for a few months to calm her down." Just then Kurgan walks up and points in the direction of Timon, leaning forward to look past Bronwen and get a clearer view of the man, Tyrr looks briefly at Bronwen, "Seems our first trooper has arrived."
Timon can't help but keep an eye on the boisterous and jumpy gal.
Inarin says, in all seriousness, "What kind of monkey?"
Timon downs the first of his two new shots.
Bronwen turns to glance in Timon's direction herself. "So it seems," she agrees. "And you probably wouldn't want to do that... think of the results." The corner of her mouth just might be twitching with surpressed mirth.
"Actually, it was an ape!" Comes from under the table. And then Genevieve emerges from the other side, hands snatching out to begin folding the setting napkin into an origami swan. "Monkeys have tails, apes do not. A gorilla. I think highland, because the lowland ones are more reddish. I didn't look at its back, though." She wiggles in her seat slightly, before saying, "These are no fun, the barstools are better." She zips over towards the bar, and immediately begins to spin on the elevated perch.
Timon smiles ever so faintly at the childish display. And sighs audibly, tho with all the noise in the bar, doubtably anyone could hear.
Edmonds considers Genevieve for a moment, and then regards his drink with a dubious expression. He takes a sip, tasting it for a long moment, and then shrugs. "Everyone else seems to see her... hmm." He shrugs, and settles back again.
"Kurgan, send the man down our way." Tyrr then looks away from Timon and toward Genevieve just as she rushes over toward Tyrr and Bronwen. "You can handle the debriefing today, Bronwen. I've a feeling I'm going to have to make sure Genevieve here doesn't kill herself from her high sugar intake today."
Genevieve slows her pirouette, and hmms some as she feels multiple gazes upon her. Shifting eyes once, and then back towards Tyrr, she huffs out, "Okay, okay, I'll act my age, not my shoe size." She smiles, perhaps too broadly, before saying, "I was thinking about trying for a baker's dozen tonight. Extra whipped cream." She nods, sagely, oblivious of the horror that such a proclomation may cause others. She lightly swings legs in the air as she fixes a curious glance over the less familiar bodies, particularly those of Edmonds, Inarin, and Timon.
Edmonds raises his glass in a slight toast when Genevieve glances his way. Giving up on lurking at his table, he takes his drink and now only moderately damp coat and heads towards the bar.
Timon looks up from his last shot as Kurgan the bartender approaches, and briefly engages in some conversation, and motions over toward a group of figures on the other side of the bar. Tim nods in aknowledgement and pays for his drink and meal before standing up from his seat, and heading over to the group in the corner.
"So, Tyrr is it?" Rin pulls his attention away from Genevieve. Even though it's really hard, near-impossible really. "I've heard a lot of hoo-hah has been up in Austin recently. It's still safe to live here, right? You didn't have all those weapons because troublemakers keep coming in?"
Timon walks directly over to the group, and stops standing next to Tyrr. Leaving his tools and unfinished meal at the bar.
Timon says, "Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting. But Kurgan, the bartender said you would like to have a word with me?"
Genevieve hmms, and then shifts gaze towards He of a Height One Cubit Greater than Hers... "Oooh, popular all of a sudden." She flashes a grin, and furrows her brow at Inarin. "I don't see any weapons!" Well not right now at least. She then hmms some at Timon, before peeping quietly as she realizes that Edmonds hasn't quite changed course yet. "Yeessss?" she asks of him, "Are you gonna pay for the 13 virgin strawberry daqs I'm about to snarf down?"
Edmonds watches Inarin out of the corner of his eye, remembering the man from... ah, yes. Lux. He sets his empty pint down on the bar, claiming a barstool near the grouping, but not right next to it. He chuckles at Genevieve. "No, I don't think I am. Although it might be interesting to see what they'd do to someone with your... exuberance."
Bronwen plucks her glass off the bar and gives the amber liquid a few swirls around. "Indeed we would," Bronwen replies to Timon. "Welcome to Austin. I believe we share some interests with you."
Timon says, "It's a distinct possibility."
And it'd seem some people have decided to congregate at the bar now that that's where Genevieve went. Tyrr just rubs his forehead for a moment before Inarin draws his attention. "Yes, the names Tyrr...and no, just a personal collection I've put together over the years. Austin's as safe as any other major city..." He lets Bronwen handle Timon for the moment, and tries to pretend Genevieve's not here.
Genevieve puckers up her lips as she scrutinizes Edmonds. "You say exuberance like it's a dir-ty word," she sing-songs out. With an officious flick of her wrists, she whips out a sheet of printer paper, and proceeds to doodle on it, at least a step up from her usual fare of paper towels and bar napkins. "Just stick 'em in a mason jar," she says randomly to Kurgan in regards to her requested sugary gravy train.
Timon shifts his gaze away from the seemingly troubled man at the bar, and back to the speaker addressing him.
Edmonds chuckles softly, spinning his barstool so he can watch Genevieve. "Not at all. But you seem to be giving the tall one behind you a headache, and if you start drunkenly bouncing off the walls, I think he might actually have an anyurism. Or are you a sleepy drunk?"
Timon says, "You certainly have an.....Interesting crowd here. I, don't believe I caught your name Ms...?"
Rin nods his head a bit at Tyrr, "Heh, alright, I've just heard lots of rumors about hallucinations and killings, so I wanted to make sure." He falls quiet and glances about before murmuring, again to Tyrr, "Someone told me you were particularly violent when I came here last, is that true?"
"Oh, there's never a dull moment here," Bronwen replies with a grin. "One of the main reasons I like it so much. Name's Breanna York. You'd be...?"
Genevieve wiggles in her seat, and then pauses, eyes wide and transfixed upon the unnamed Edmonds. "I would be a... I... I dunno. I've never really had it..." A furtive glance is shot towards Tyrr, Bronwen, Inarin and Timon.
Timon says, "Timon. I go by Tim mostly."
Edmonds gives Genevieve a bright smile, his expression earnestly interested. And no - he's not over the top with it. "Never gotten drunk? Well, if you down that many daquiris in short order, you'll certainly find out." He follows her glance towards the others. "Something wrong?"
Timon says, "You say you....'Enjoy' this?"
Genevieve pouts. "I said virgin daqs. No one ever pays attention to me," she whines out slightly, before asking, "Say, do you have bus fare? They're switching monthly cards, since tomorrow's March and all, I haven't gotten mine yet. Heck, you can walk to get the token with me, I seriously don't want cash."
"There's your fair share of odd happenings in this city, yes. But otherwise nothing too out of the ordinary." Tyrr's eyes were wandering down the bar to look over the other patrons here, but once Inarin asks questions about him being violent, he looks back at the man. "I keep the rabble out of my bar. Sometimes the best way to do that is scare them out, do you have a problem with that, Mister..." he fishes for a name.
Edmonds ahhs, softly. "Sorry - it's the noise level in here. Well, all that sugar, on the other hand... I'm not sure I could deal with that much without getting a serious case of the jitters." He tilts his head a bit at the request for bus fare, frowning very slightly. "Tsk. I might be able to... of course, surely you'd be better off asking a friend, someone you know?"
"I was listening to you, Genevieve," Bronwen remarks. "Saving me from asking Kurgan really nicely to leave out the alcohol this time around?" Her attention shifts back to the newer patron. "Nice to meet you, Tim. Besides, this is tame compared to other places that we've all visited at least once in our lifetime."
Timon still stands expressionless between Tyrr and Bronwen.
Timon says, "I actually don't get around much. I go where the buisness takes me."
Rin smiles, "Oh, just call me 'Rin, buddy." He steps away from the bar and adds, "I don't have a problem with it, actually, but the one I was conversing with seemed to have one. I made a couple jokes, but she didn't seem to take it that well," he sighs wistfully, glancing over toEdmons and Timon briefly.
Tyrr's eyes narrow considerably, he's completely ignoring the others near him now. Thanks to Inarin mentioning his name, his fist clenches some inside his coat pocket before he pulls a hand out in offer of a hand shake greeting, forcing himself to nod in greeting, "Well 'Rin, good to meet you... 'Rin won't be short for anything, would it?"
Genevieve sags in her seat, and raises shoulders once. "Yeah, you're right." She then glances towards Kurgan, "Don't worry about the drinks. You give me plenty of stuff, it's time to return the favor. So, I saw this thing, right? And it reminded me of you!" Genevieve is a master of associative thought, but when it comes to thinking out the varying IMPLICATIONS of said associations, she fails miserably. Instead, she rather proudly presents the man with a scar that circumnavigates most of his neck with... a Pez dispenser.
Edmonds pats Genevieve gently on the shoulder before smiling faintly. "Of course I'm right." He watches as she offers the bartender the Pez dispenser, although more and more of his attention is being pulled to the near-confrontation between Tyrr and Rin. Clearly -something- going on there.
Roll by Edmonds: (4) (6) (4)
Timon says, "Anyway, as I was saying, I don't get out much. I come from a close family."
'Rin smiles and shakes Tyrr's hand, "It would be, Tyrr. Been a long, long time...hasn't it?" He glances back over to Edmonds again, "Busy day here in the Pub. Pretty good business you've got going on. I'm impressed."
Timon downs the shot of whisky he has been holding all this time and finally asks "Do you mind if I take the seat next to you Bronwen?
Roll by Tyrr: (3) (4) (5)
Bronwen waves her free hand towards the bar stools. "Feel free," she replies as she watches Kurgan's reaction to Genevieve's offering. From the throbbing at his temples, it isn't a good one.
Cassius strolls in with the air of a regular, nodding a greeting to a few of the employees on his way in and recieving th elike in turn. Hands tucked into his pockets, he heads for the bar, humming quiely.
Timon takes the empty barstool next to Bronwen. And offers to buy the nice lady a drink of her choice.
Once Inarin gives Tyrr his hand to shake, Tyrr begins to squeeze. And not that simple 'I don't like you squeeze' but more the type that aims to break fingers and hands alike. "Yes, a /very/ long time," he says through strained teeth. "Not as impressed as you'll be when I give you a more intimate display of what I've got in the back room," referring to the weaponary Inarin noted earlier, just as Tyrr lets 'Rin's hand go.
Edmonds considers Tyrr for a long moment, and then gives Genevieve a smile. "Ahem. While it's been delightful talking to you, I think it might just be time for me to head home." He glances at Tyrr again, and nods firmly. "Yes. Definitely time to go." He shrugs into his coat, laying down bills to cover his drinks.
Genevieve coos out to Edmonds, "yeah, I guess so..." as if revisiting his logical use of asking friends instead. However, the twitch of Kurgan's eyebrow, and the manic staring at the Pez dispenser can't be missed. "Aww, c'mon, I thought you liked Looney Toons, Kurgan!" At that point, the barkeep lunges for Genevieve in that classic Homer-Chasing-Bart kind of way, "YOUUUU!"
Genevieve shrieks, and then falls off the barstool with a graceless thump on the floor, before she dives under another table. The regular patrons stare.
Roll by Inarin: (3) (2) (4)
Since Genevieve is now under anouther table, Edmonds just tucks his hands in his coat, and heads for the exit with a quick backwards glance at Inarin.
"No more for me, but thank you. This is the only drink I need tonight," Bronwen answers, trailing off to observe the little drama playing out before her eyes. "...as I was saying, never a dull moment. You know she can move quickly, Kurgan. You need to rethink your attack strategy." Tyrr's tone catches her ears and she swivels on her feet slightly to watch.
Roll by Tyrr: (4) (2) (3)
'Rin's hand goes 'crunch' as Tyrr squeezes. His hand doesn't shatter, but there is a distinct snapping noise regarding the three interior fingers. Rin cringes just for the moment of pain before returning the smile and continuing to shake carefully, "I actually have something of your collection to return to you. And I haven't shown you mine yet." He withdraws his hand and looks it over, frowning, "You accidently broke my fingers, Tyrr..." He looks Tyrr over, narrows his eyes briefly, but then sighs and smiles again, "I don't mind. It will be my punishment." He turns and then heads on out, "Good job with Christian," He adds, "I'll be seeing you around. I don't intend to leave for a while."
Cassius notices the little interaction and an eyebrow goes up, footsteps immediately turning to head in taht direction, filling the space vacated by Inarin and glancing over his shoudler after the guy, his voice directed to tyrr,"There a problem, buddy ole pal?"
Genevieve squints at Inarin from her spot under one of the tables, making a mental note to put Inarin in the 'rearrange furniture' list of infamy.
Timon whispers, "How long have those two been taking marriage councling?"
Edmonds steps out into the night, pulling the collar of his coat up against the early spring weather.
Tyrr stares at Inarin's back like a man wishing his eyes could shoot laser beams and cause intense pain. He's outright oblivious to the fact people are staring at him as he suddenly catches a voice he's not heard in quite sometime, snapping out of his glare and loosening his clenched teeth. "Ah, 'Jason'. Good to see you back."
"Who?" Bronwen asks, dragging some of her attention back towards Timon and his question. "None of the employees are married here. Significant others, sure. The regulars kind of go all over the place in regards to relationships. Some are just friends and some are married, with the boyfriends or fiancées."
Timon says, "Never mind. Humor is not my forte."
Cassius grins with an almost carefree air,"What can I say? I gots the wanderlust in me, you know that. I come, I go... but I have I ever not been around when I was needed?"
Tyrr nods and looks to Bronwen who is sitting next to him, the seat on his other side briefly taken by Inarin is now vacant. "Very true Cass, and I think things are going to get very interesting over the next few weeks that we'll need all the Michaelites we could use."
Timon looks around the establishment to see whom all is still here.
Genevieve is still there under the table. The occasional rattle and the wobble of the item prove it!
Cassius Raises an eyebrow at that, leaning against the bar and loosing some of the careless act,"What do you mean, bosss? There some kind of trouble brewing.... ? Mike didn't tell me anything about it."
Timon says, "Indeed. So Breanna. Would you mind, introducing me?"
"You likely talked to the Huriin before I gave him my report yesterday." Tyrr looks to Bronwen, "Let us just say we've got a lot to fill you in on Cass, and you as well Timon," finally acknowledging that he did hear parts of his and Bronwen's commentary. "The city is filled with many dangers that shall likely bear fruit soon."
Lucia Waverly steps inside, dragging Pan in by her ear. "Auugh!" Pan cries, "Abuse, Abuse!"
"Don't make a scene, Pan." Lucia tells her.
"I'm not making a scene!" Pan retorts.
"Uh-huh." Lucia says, not believing a word.
Timon turns abruptly looking at the two new arivals.
"Tyrr, Cassius, meet Timon," Bronwen says with a nod of her head as she says each name. "Newest recruit, of sorts, to Austin."
"Ah, Timon, yes the Huriin said you'd be arriving soon as one of our newest recruits to Austin." Tyrr reaches out a hand, "As much as Bronwen here and Cassius hate it, I'd be your local boss. I will warn, I'm harsh, but I also run things loose compared to some you may have worked under."
Genevieve finally emerges from the table, and bolts for the back room door, leaping up and latching to the upper doorjamb, hands not visible as she dangles from something with a handle... wonder what it could be. A crazed look is sent towards Kurgan, but the keep seems to have returned to his sullen silence.
Timon says, "I think I know why Im here, judging by the company you keep." Timon motions toward the crazed woman scampering out from under the table toward the back room.
Tyrr's eyes glint with a bit of curiousity as he waves Kurgan over for a drink. "Oh really? And just why do you think you're here?"
Lucia drags Pan over to Bronwen.
"Apologize," Lucia says.
"No way!" Pan replies, sticking her tongue out.
Lucia rolls her eyes briefly before wrapping an arm around Pan and noogieing. "Come on...!" She tells the kid.
Timon looks over at the two, then back to Tyrr. "More associates of yours?"
Genevieve then plops back down to the ground, with a gleam of triumph in her eyes. The broad head of a double-headed axe hovers over her head, halo-like, as she wobbles to hold its mass upright. She breathes out, "Ohh, shiny, you polished it recently!"
There's a heavy sigh as Tyrr sees the axe out yet again, "Put it back, now." There's no joking tone in his voice tonight, obviously a bit worn out by everything over the last few days. Shaking his head at Timon's question, he says, "You didn't answer my question Timon. Why exactly do you think you are here?"
Genevieve casts a quick peek towards Tyrr, eyes wide. "But I was complimenting you about how well you kept..." She pauses, and then sighs before trudging back towards the back room. A few grunts and pants sound out as she remounts the axe on its brackets. "Fine, fine, the thing was heavy ANYWAY..." She blinks back towards the woman dragging Pan to see Breanna.
Timon says, "Fair enough. I'm here to provide objective support. To help, keep things calmn, orderly, and as quiet as possible."
Raucous laughter breaks out from Genevieve's direction at the mission statement. She raises a hand to cup over her mouth, and fans herself with her other free hand.
"Speaking of weapons..." Bronwen remarks as she watches Genevieve, but is distracted at the sight of Pan and the woman holding her in place. "So we meet again, although I don't think I've ever met your friend. Or jailkeeper, if you look at it from a resenting point of view." She takes a sip of her scotch, letting its smokey flavour permeate her senses.
Timon says, "Im also rather handy with a set of tools and wires."
Pan ducks down and twists away to step behind Lucia, "I'm not telling you about my zany exploits anymore, Luce!", she glances over to Timon, "Are you saying you build bombs...?" Her eyes light up, "COOL!"
"The War in this city isn't quiet. You can offer your opinion to keep things objective, but rememver one thing Timon. Many of us have been here for quite some time and have worked hard to get things turned in our favour." Tyrr then stands and heads around the bar end toward the back room door. "Now, I think I need to get some rest. We'll meet again soon to begin coordinating on the several objectives we need to obtain."
Timon still trailing Tyrr with his eyes. "Of course, it's been a long day for all of us. We can talk more about matters some other time." Then turning to the young girl by appearances. "I didn't exactly say that, but I won't deny the ability either.
Genevieve half-flinches as Tyrr begins to wander past her, eyes wide. She ahems, and then scrambles past him back out into the bar area proper, knowing full well she was in trouble now. Returning to her favoring stool for spinning, she looks over her shoulders towards the front doors, as if contemplating slinking off to hide for the evening, lest she get herself into more trouble.
Genevieve thinks for a moment. "Well, sometimes Mr. Richardson drives this route, maybe he'll let me ride free," she says absently, before waving wildly to no one in particular and buzzing out.
Bronwen turns back towards the bar to chat with Kurgan and a few of the regulars. She's still working on her scotch, almost nursing it to enjoy every drop.
Timon swivels the stool back around to face the bar and orders another shot.
Ray enters as Genevieve departs. He pauses at the entrance, casting an absently curious glance across the room... At last, his attention settles on the bar, and he makes his way in that direction to claim himself a seat.
Timon takes his next round of scotch from the bartender Kurgan, and tosses his hair back over his shoulder. Downing the shot in one gulp.
Timon Glances about the bar room again as Tyrr had made his way toward the back to retire for the eve, and everyone else has mostly gone about their own buisness. He nods acknowledging the newcomer taking a seat at the bar.
The man's face remains largly expressionless as he nods slightly in return. His eyes track to the other's drink, then over to the bartender. Ray casually inquires of the former, "What's good, tonight?" He glances back to the glass, eyes narrowing slightly.
Timon turns and says rather matter of factly "The scotch is decent"
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