Characters involved are: Tognotti (RED), Reoite (ORANGE), Bart (GREEN), Brin (BLUE), Alliah (INDIGO), Kale (VIOLET), Sigurd (PINK),
Logged by Brin

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The Lucky Avenue Bar
This is a small, quaint little bar, cooled by two small ceiling fans, and broad and wide enough for a decent amount of seating space. A small rocking chair sits in the back next to a small barrel; but the pale blue stone bar dominates most of this room. Decked with liquors and cheap wines, it stands open for any and all who wish to come by. A shaded <stairway> in the back leads upstairs. A worn wooden <door> leads out.
Contents:
Bart
Kale
Sulamith
Sigurd
Tognotti
ACFT Flyer
The Lucky Avenue Bar is fairly quiet, most of the cliental having left as dusk overcomes the sleepy desert town of Dazil. The weak electric lights have just been turned on, and the bar is awash in their anemic light. The bartender washes glasses a bit boredly, tired of the common drugery of everyday life. Kale sits alone at a small table, looking over a large booklet of papers.
Tognotti walks into the tavern, his pale eyes looking a bit nervous, and giving off a sense of trying too hard to look natural. a long desert cloak is draped over him, concealing the red and blaxk Shevat uniform underneath. He takes a seat carefully, and sighs inwardly when he realizes he chose a spot next to what looked like a reptilian demi-human. His voice emerges from his throat, sounding a tad edgy. "Erm... can I get some coffee?" He murmurs to the bartender.
Sitting quietly and alone at one of the tables, Sulamith is back to writing in her notepad, the pen skirching across the paper as she relates that really oddball dream she had recently. The fibers of it have deteriorated a bit, but she wants to capture as much as possible down on paper before she forgets the details. Scribble scribble scribble. She seems totally absorbed in this, rings on her fingers occasionally glittering in the light. On the ground by her feet is her usual pack and on the table by her hand is the bag of runes, the cord that closes it pulled tight and tied in a gentle knot that won't take forever and a day to undo. She's already filled quite a bit of that notebook already with her writing, and writing rather feverishly with quick, wide strokes, it doesn't look as if she will stop anytime soon. The light is getting dim, but that doesn't seem to bother her, merely making her squint a little at the paper, lowering her nose toward it so she doesn't have to stop to ask someone to tu
to turn a light on or something.
Dropped.
(OOC) And thus, the one who can't hold his liquor worth beans leads the charge into the bar!
Kale glances up as he hears Tognotti enter. Seeing that it's just a weary travler, he looks back at the booklet. After several moments at glancing through it, he grumbles slightly, and reaches down next to him into a large canvas bag. He rummages through it for a minute, frowns, then suddenly brightens as his hand closes around something. He brings it up and sets it on the paper...then winces as he bumps the booklet, and sends the small compass falling onto the floor. It goes rolling away, and Kale sighs. It just had to happen now, didn't it. Streching, he gets out of his seat, and looks for where the compass rolled.
Tognotti glances down, seeing where the compass had fell, and watching the demihuman go after it. He waited. And waited. A little more. He sighed, such a day to be aiding demihumans. However, he found his gentleman's side overpowering his instincts. He leans over and grabs the compass, holding it out to Kale. "This item is yours, is it not?"
Glancing up, Sulamith reaches toward her cheek to brush aside an errant strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. The pen hovers over the paper for a moment as she considers getting up to talk to Kale over continuing her writing. Brows furrow thoughtfully and lips thin slightly, at least until she sees the stranger hold out the compass to him. So, scritch scritch scritch, she goes back to writing out those last few details she remembers. Her grandmother always told her that dreams were important and the vivid ones were very very important. So it's vital that she finish this and then she can go be social, yes.
After a solid half hour of begging, Sigurd finally relented to his charge's desire to stop in the bar for 'just one drink'. And that was all he was going to -let- the boy have, they had things to do, after all, and they'd only stopped in Dazil to get a few last supplies before making the trip to Nisan, then the desert base. Pushing the door open, the hard soles of the first mate's boots mad muted sounds against the floor as he stepped into the darker bar, his good eye glancing around to make sure no Gebler were around to cause trouble. Satisfied, he steps to one side and keeps the door held open to allow Bart, and Brin who'd tagged along, to enter. The cost is clear, just -behave-!
Sigurd has connected.
Sigurd has disconnected.
And so, completely confident after having 'won' the argument with Sig, Bart strolls into the bar. Squinting around the room in the darkness, he makes up his mind to comply with Sig. One drink. That's all. They've got Big, Important Things to do here, so of course, he'll be quick about it. "Hey, they've got good stuff here!" He dashes up to the bar and places an order. If anyone has a stopwatch, they'll get to see how long it takes for him to go over 'just one.'
Another day, another new territory to claim as my own. And such is the life of this nemesis of all men, this paragon of superiority, this god among...cats. The door cannot swing shut before Reoite wafts in, paper in a gust of wind, and sleek from practics, and an inbuilt navigation system that has never failed him yet. There is bounty to be had here, oh yes. And it is mine. MINE!. Sulamith's table is quickly mounted in a single bound, and Reoite purrs seductively at its occupant, getting in just enough schmoozing time before its associate gets here. And so he does, as Reoite turns to see Brin himself cross the treshold, and his moment of adultery is forgotten, and Reoite slinks down, and lodges himself at Brin's feet, in mock death from an exaggerated thirst. Brin can only smile.
Kale nods to Tognatti. Something about the man's manner set him ill at ease, but...no reason to suspect anything. Still...it's Kale's job to keep Dazil safe. Better keep an eye on him. "Thanks you, sir." Taking the compass, he nods again, relativly cheerfully, to Tognotti, and then begins to walk back to his table. As the door opens, his ears twitch at the sound, and he glances over. Well, that's Sigurd, no trouble there. And that is...wait, it'll come to you...Brin! That Etone who was doing target practice. And the last one would be... Bart. Oh my, that was bad. The man you helped try to kidnap...after throwing sharp things at him...poisoned sharp things. And the young man just walked in front of Kale's table...but wait! A friendly face in the room! Briefly puzzeling out how he missed her in the room, Kale begins moving over to Sulamith's table, then stops when he sees she's writing...and a cat just jumped on her table. But nothing to lose, with (urk) Bart Fatima in the room. "Hello, Sulamith."
Tognotti nods curtly, then turns to the side a bit, with a sigh. A bit of silverish hair caught his eye. He looked back a little, focusing his gaze. An amber skinned, silver haired man... with one eye. Not many like that, no siree. Only a couple hours on the surface, and already some activity had fallen into his lap. His voice emerges again, this time flowing and smooth. "Sigurd Harcourt, I presume?" He glances to Bart. Another man with one eye. What a strange occurance.
Scribble scribble scri-- the pen halts as the door opens yet again, with not just one, but three strangers, apparently. Huffing at the interuption, onyx colored eyes scan over the blonde youth and his companion with the cat as they enter, her interest distracted by her need to finish relating the dream. She nearly returns to writing when she glances at the taller one holding the door open and her breath catches in her throat, ringed fingers reaching for the choker around her slender neck as she sits up straight. It takes her a moment or two of shock before she rises to her feet, the chair scooting back, abjectly sounding off the floorboards with the quick motion and nearly threatens to tip over, until it rocks forward again *thunk*. You see, she had just been describing the youth in her dream when this occured.
Older... quite a bit older, but that hair. The only way she'd know for sure is to see his eyes... er, eye. It's too dark now to see if he possesses that beautiful clear blue, like the skies over the desert at midday. Eyepatch? Did he have one in the dream? She can't recall that now. Of course, she has to get her composure back, smoothing her skirts as she forces herself to breathe again. It was just a dream. Surely this is some strange sort of coincidence and nothing more. It would be awfully embarassing to accost someone who didn't recognize her from adam and thought her some crazy nomadic woman.
Cat? Kale? Bart? Brin? Huh, who? Oh! Sulamith realizes there are actually people in the room other than the silver haired man who'd appeared in her dream and she blinks. She swallows and gives Kale a sheepish look, "Oh, hello, Kale. Um..." No, nevermind that she just about knocked her chair over to get to her feet. The cat afterwards, is finally paid due hommage and worship as she reaches out to pet the poor neglected feline. That was embarassing...
My, such a kaleidoscope of emotion tonight. Between Bart's hyperness, That strange man's paranoia, turned to... something he couldn't place, to the woman's shock, and Kale's... What was that, dread? Something akin to it. My, Sigurd's Empathy hasn't had this much fun in months! Eh, what? Who called him? Trailing after his charge like the ever protective guardian that he was, he found himself next to the one who'd called him by name, blinking at Tognotti with that single too-blue eye. "I am he, may I help you?" One more glance to Bart tho, a long-suffering look at his enthusiasm over the bar's selection of alcohol. Dear god, please, nothing too strong.
"Can you give me something /really/ strong? I'm only supposed to have on--" Bart breaks off as he turns and looks around the bar. Hmm...Sig looks pretty occupied already. Maybe they'll be spending more time in here than they thought. Hmm...well, let's just order our drinks. "Gimme something really strong." So, of course, something strong is retrieved. Bart hands over the payment, and takes a big gulp. He swishes it around, then turns and peruses the crowd once more. When his gaze passes over Kale, he gulps, causing coughing fit. Sad, the young price Fatima, coughing on his alcohol....
Up to your usual tricks, Reoite? Brin smiles down at the bundle nuzzling his ankles, and with a flourish, sweeps Reoite up onto his arm. "Oh, come on, then", he coos at the raptured soon-to-be-fed feline, as he progresses toward the bar. "Kale..." he notes softly, and nods as he passes, drawing up to the bar, and taking te end seat like a pro, smelling the same old smell, if a little more floral since he didn't see Joseph around. It's been a while, he thinks, as he orders a drink for both of them.
Kale nods to Brin as he passes by, and then blinks at Sula's surprise, and follows her gaze to Sigurd. "That's Sigurd Harcourt...are you aquainted with him? The other two are Brin, an Etone, and *aherm* Bart Fatima..." Kale looks at Bart, and hopes, a bit despertly, that the young man's coughing fit had been caused by something else. Anything else. Well, nothing Kale can really do right now if he did...turning back to Sulamith, he says, "So...how have you been."
Bart has disconnected.
Bart has connected.
Tognotti smirks softly. "You're a very improtant person to me, Sigurd, to many people..." Tognotti attempts to maintain an aura of coolness as he reaches back, to grab his coffee. "You are first mate of the... eggdrizel, was it?" He grabs a mug of what looks like a mixture of whisky and vodka from the counter, mistaking it for the coffee he'd ordered. He raises the glass to his lips, and takes a huge gulp, not having had any liquid since leaving Shevat. He looks down slowly, and his eyes narrow as he realizes what it is that he just drank. 'Shit.' He thinks.
Seeing that Sigurd is now distracted by someone else, Sulamith just slowly returns to her seat, sitting without much grace in the motion. Unusual for her, she always prides herself in seeming ethereal. Must be a nomadic Seeress thing. As the cat is scooped up and taken elsewhere, she hardly seems to notice, hands folding in her lap as the rest of her surroundings seem more to be distractions than anything else, jeweled eyes constantly flickering toward Sigurd. Now, how in the world does she approach him without looking like some infatuated little girl? She just wants to know if he's that stranger from her dream, and she just knows that if she can see his eye, she'll be able to tell. However, Kale provides a few necessary clues that she did not know earlier. Sigurd... hmm. Head tilting to the side slightly, those onyx eyes glance up toward Kale with a sidelong glance, "Sigurd Harcourt? Is that his name?" Is she aquainted with him? She deigns not to answer that. How do you tell someone you sa
"I've been fine, Kale. Strange dreams as of late, but no nightmares at least," she replies, that familiar smile curling dark lips up with a familiar insouciance. She tries hard to turn her attention to the one speaking to her, now, though she's aware of Sigurd's presence. If he were to try to leave, she'd probably bolt toward him.
The single blue eye narrows slightly on Tognotti. "Am I..." Sigurd's tone was a little less friendly than usual, just flat out not liking how this man spoke, or the emotions he radiated. But Bart's sudden coughing fit startles him out of brooding on it too much as he turns to blink at his charge. "Young Master, how many times must I tell you not to -gulp- your beverages?" However, his gaze follows Bart's to Kale and.... He knew that girl. He couldn't put his finger on it, for the stress of daily life had long since scrubbed his dream into the very back of his mind. But despite the sudden curiosity, he forced his gaze back to Kale before looking to Bart, expecting explanation for his actions. As excitable as the young Prince was, he usually had his reasons.
Tognotti has disconnected.
Bart has disconnected.
Bart has connected.
Bart coughs again, then gets ahold of himself and swallows his beverage. Haphazardly tossing the mug onto the counter, he bugs out his eye a moment, then pulls himself together. "Uh...nothing, Sig. Just a little strong, that's all." He does take a moment to sort of glare in Kale's direction, but he stays outwardly calm. He knows he'd just get reined in by Sigurd if he tried to do anything, and manages to stifle himself. "Who are all these people you're talking to?" Changing the subject, of course.
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And after the hunt? The prize! Reoite laps up the contents of the dish in front of him, the last of it disappears before he lifts hi head up, and begins to survey the room again, as he licks his lips. Brin simply smiles, and does the same. The quiet pair sit in vigilance at the end of tha bar, watching, as Brin has done so many times before.
Set.
Kale winces slightly as Bart glares at him...but is quite glad that the young prince didn't whip him, figuritvly or literally. Putting the (understandibly) angered and miffed prince out of his mind, he says to Sulamith, "Yes...though during the tourny he went by the name 'Agani'.' Kale tilts his head at the dream comment..."Hrm...dreams are often important, though I might not be the best person to talk to about them."
Though Sigurd might have forgotten most of it, Sulamith most certainly did not. But, dreams are a part of the package when one is a Seeress and you just don't forget them like that, especially if they are that vivid. The sound of coughing distracts her for a second or two and she looks toward the sunhaired youth at the bar, lips quirking to the left as the words 'entanglement' enter her mind for no apparent reason. Of course, as she looks back at Kale and her lips part to say something to him, she notices that brief wince. Mouth closing again, she rests a hand on one hip, giving the taller man a solicitous look, wondering just what is going on between him and the boy at the bar (nevermind she's about his age). "Tourny? Oh, yes, I hadn't attended it." Watching people get bloody? Boring. She's no fighter.
"Dreams are very important when one makes a living as a Seeress," Sulamith replies idly, though she just can't quite help herself, glancing again toward Sigurd.
Sigurd notes the glare and sighs, but he makes nothing more of the situation. Glancing at a clock, he then looks at the door, anxious to be on the move. It's the nomad in him. "Young Master, finish up your drink, we've wasted enough time." Softer than his normal tone, his accent just barely heavier when he speaks as such. He didn't want to be near the man who initially addressed him, and he didn't want Bart hanging around if he was going to get himself into a brawl.
His attention wrested away from his glaring match, Bart looks over at Sigurd, then at his drink, then back up at Sigurd. His eye narrows. "Sig, first you tell me not to go gulping things down, then...oh well, bottoms up!" With that, before anyone thinking of it can stop him, Bart *gulps* the rest of his drink, takes a tense moment swallowing. "That was good. You're sure I can't stay for another?" That said, Bart's ready to get dragged out. =P
Man and cat alike spot the ipending departure, and Reoite, hot weather notwithstanding, leaps into Brin's sleeve, and peers out, an iridescent pair of beacons watching over its domain. Brin stands from the stool, and takes another look around. He might not be here again for a while, so, best remember it now as a peaceful place, and not as he had seen it before. The barman here is a stranger, and Brin cannot forget that day. He slowly makes his way toward the door sugestively, and looks back toward Sigurd and Bart, waiting.
Kale glances as Sigurd and company prepare to leave. He sighs, then gets up. If he doesn't do it now, will he ever have a chance? Walking toward Bart, a sheepish look on his face, he says, "Prince Fatima, I would like to apologize on the behalf of the GA-GS for your...umm...kidnapping. And assualt."
Oh, they're leaving? Sulamith's going to lose her chance just to find out. "Excuse me," she says toward Kale and without any further ado, she heads straight for Sigurd, determined just to see that eye. She -has- to know. "Sir, pardon me..." she trails off, even going so far as to grab at his coat sleeve if he appears to be on the move toward the procrastinating youth at the bar. So long as he looks at her, she doesn't care if she looks like some kind of idiot. It will quell that need to know. And in finally seeing that single blue eye, thusly confirming her suspicions, she does ask him, "Do you believe in changing your stars, sir?" She remembers that from the dream at least. If she can stir a memory in him, perhaps she won't feel quite so stupid doing this.
All the same, there is a touch of color darkening her dusky cheeks. Good lord, when did she get this bold, even if she is a friendly and insouciant girl?
Preacher has connected.
Preacher has left.
Bart has connected.
Bart has disconnected.
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Sigurd stops at the tug on his sleeve and turns to look down at the girl clinging to him thusly. For a long moment he has no clue how to react, an oddly -cute- expression of confusion settling on his face as she asks him this... "I don't....--" Wait!! He remembered that line! It was incredibly fuzzy, but wasn't that from a dream recently? "Have we met before? You look familiar, but it's hazy, like something out of a dream." A tactful way to ask if they'd met in the Dream, or flirting. Considering his family's habits and his own history, one could safely assume both.
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Alliah has connected.
Alliah walks into the bar.
Bart turns and blinks at Kale, not expecting that at all. "Well, I...." he looks over at Sig, then back at Kale. "Um, thanks, I guess." Not that he's forgiven him, nosiree, but nothing's going to be accomplished by saying that to his face. Maybe the alcohol's making Bart sensible for awhile or something. He glances over at Sigurd. "Hey, Sig, were we leaving, then?"
That's kinda funny. Sulamith's grandmother told her about the Fatima Dynasty's bad habits (tm), but she's actually not at all aware of Sigurd or Bart's acutal heritage. That and she's hardly looked at the prince, paying attention to the first mate here instead. Most of the dream is getting hazier by the minute, but the ending she does remember, as she woke up with it clear. "When the dark night seems endless, remember me." Her last words to Sigurd before disappearing from the dream world. She smiles with the memory. "Yes, we've met before, sir. Dreams often link realities beyond the veil of reality." Her grandmother told her that, anyway. She lets go of the tall man's sleeve, backing off a bit as it is clear he and the others are planning to leave. "Maybe we'll come across one another there again." Unless otherwise, she'll slowly back over to her pack and watch the trio depart the tavern.
Alliah sits down casually and listens idly. A digger always keeps an ear open for the idle gossip of travellers in the bars...
"Sulamith." Her name suddenly just popped in his head, and Sigurd questions a second later how correct first impressions are. "That's your name, right?" A hesitation, and he looks at Bart and gestures toward Brin in the doorway. "Just go, Young Master, I'll catch up in a moment. Have the crew be prepared for immediate departure."
Sulamith blinks as her name is spoken alound, dark eyes rounded slightly with surprise, "Yes... you remember. Did I tell you that?" She doesn't remember it. "I... you need to go, I see this. I shouldn't keep you here."
Bart actually listens to Sig, (must be the alcohol again), nods to Kale, with a small show of politeness, and heads for the doorway himself.
Kale sits back down, and thinks.
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Sigurd looks at Bart and Brin leaving, but he doesn't just want to leave the nomadic girl... and yet he doesn't want to deal with Bart spazing on him if he brings her along. A heavy sigh then, and he takes a step or two toward the door. "I'm not sure, I just knew... I... Guess I'll see you again..." But I want you to come with me. Damnit!
Instinctively, the girl reaches for Sigurd's sleeve again. Her eyes speak more than words ever could. 'Don't leave me here, desert brother'. Of course, she's being quite presumtuous here and far more bold than she has ever been before. Oh if he keeps going, she'll let go, but otherwise... he's like her. And she already lost her family. There is part of her that worries she'll never see him again if he leaves without her.
Tognotti has connected.
At the hand on his sleeve the parental instincts just take over. Sigurd flinches inside, but he just shakes his head and gestures to her table. "If you want to come with me, get your things, he have to get going...." With that he turned and left, expecting her to follow. Oh, he was going to catch hell for this.
Snapping up her pack, the bells on her ankles jingling loudly, Sulamith wastes no time in doing as told and racing out the door to catch up with Sigurd.