Sibling

"I understand some of it. Can't say I've ever had the worry of being famous, though. Most press I have ever got is in this city, with this place." She laughed, low and booming.

"What's it like workin' in movies? It seems like it would be fun, and if you gots powers, would make it even more. Can't say I'd like givin' up time for other things though, hardly have enough as it is, and all that going and coming actors have ta do." She paused, stretching her back and looking over the restaurant. Vegas and Martin had everythng in hand, from what she could see.

"You got an SG or somethin'? Or do you work solo?"

A short while later, Gertrude appeared from the kitchens and made a direct line for Falcon's table. She was sometimes brash, and definitely flirtatious with patrons, but she tried to be respectful. Her life had not been easy, but wearing that on your sleeve wouldn't have helped with her job, so she kept a lot away from work.

"Miss Kitiara? Martin asked me to tell you the gentleman is here. He's a little nervous, after Martin told him he was sitting with a lady." She grinned sheepishly, "He's not your average guy, but he's nice enough. Don't be put off by his looks, I think bald guys are cute."

She turned to go, then spun around again. "Oh, his name's James Broady, but he goes by Steve. That's his middle name. Shall I go to fetch him?"

((OOC: James Steve Broady is a figure from American legend, real but almost mythical today. His train, No 1102, was the famous "Old 97" featured in many songs as "The wreck of the old 97". He has been dead, or in limbo, for over 100 years and called back to protect innocents in payment for his rash actions that led to innocent deaths long ago. He is a fire/fire blaster, with little understanding of modern ways and conveniences. He will be very conscious of Ms Falcon's regal bearing, but also willing to find out more about the modern world. Who better to tell him?

Gertrude would have brought a bowl of unsalted peanuts or pretzels when Falcon arrived, and probably apologized that they come in a wooden bowl, since Falcon is looking ravishing this evening ))
*********

Narshawn was actually pleased to see the penguin tottering about, as it gave Gertrude something to do, other than gab with the patrons. About every five minutes, she would send the girl to wipe up the water trail on the table's edge to prevent damage to the wood.

"You need anything else right now?" she said to Hopper's group as she chased the rapidly diminishing bird. "You know, something to eat or more beer?" She was carefully eyeing the scaly hero, not really sure whether he was safe to stand near.

((OOC: Let's say that Gertrude has a certain fear of reptiles.))

Shortly after he arrived at the pool tables, Gertrude made an entrance, clearing dishes from the tables. She quickly noticed the oversized penguin and his companions, and walked over to their group.

"Mister Penguin?" she caught his attention, and held out a tray. The most surprising thing was what sat on the tray.

Peeping and bobbling about, confined by the high lip of the tray, was the same penguin. It appeared animated, and made noises.

"Narshawn said to say thank you, and drinks are on her for this round." Gertrude smiled and set the tray down.

((OOC: unlike the game, Narshawn can control ice and animating it is a power she holds. Nothing fancy, the penguin is not alive, just mobile and will melt. She wanted to show her gratitude, and her humor to someone with a sense of one.))

“As I was saying,” the older Troll, Malthu, missed very little, “this is my son, and head of the police in the village, Ekanga. These are the ones you should be watchful of,” he turned and spoke in the local language to the new troll.

“D’, are you ok?” Sibling was unsure what had been said, but the look on her friend’s face was not one of worry. The larger woman shook her head, breaking eye contact with Ekanga.

“Yeah, the elder wants Ekanga to watch us. Ekanga, nice name, that’s the new guy. He’s the Sheriff.”

As was typical, the troll’s eyes narrowed sharply when he spotted Sibling. He carried no weapon, and only the color of his jacket meant he was any sort of law, but he filled out the material, much broader than the others. From what the twins had seen, this was a fairly simple village, nothing extravagant or obvious, many more trolls than other types. That one human could cause so much trouble, it meant ill things.

Ekanga placed his three men with Sibling, close guard and very ready to stop any trouble, while he fell in beside Diva, on the way. They walked through now mostly deserted streets, the sun failing and sounds of wildlife filling the air. Here and there a face would appear from behind a window, or a child would peek from behind a door, but none would stay if Sibling met their gaze.

The only conversation Sibling could glean was when names were mentioned, and the inflection of the language was very difficult. They occupied their time looking, from the efficient way the village was arranged to the ingenious use of natural plants to protect the homes from the sun and wind. Nothing was over three stories tall, which allowed the towering trees to provide shade and wind-break. There was a radial pattern to the streets, everything eminating from a central square, like a wagon wheel, with the city hall at it’s hub. There was no trash, or debris in sight, glass windows with heavy wooden shutters, small porches with seats, neat gardens.

They did not disturb Diva and Ekanga, apparently enjoying the conversation, until they came even with a slightly larger home, with what looked like a reinforced barn at one side. Diva listened for a moment, then turned to her friend.

“He says this is his home, where his family lives. The structure is the jail, but more like a cooling off place, since they have no need to hold people. It seems like crime is really low.” The male troll spoke some, Sibling saw Diva blush and the elder troll give a sharp look, then a creeping smile.

“Um, Ekanga says you must stay in the jail. They will bring you food and fresh clothing as they can find it…” there was a hesitation, “but asks if I would like to dine in their home.” Diva looked very uncomfortable. She was the senior partner, and Sibling would follow her instructions, but there was a question in the woman’s voice.

“Diva, you know that we trust you with no reservation.” Sibling placed their hand on her arm. “There is no place or time we would not follow you, and you must speak for us, since we cannot. These people seem innocent, but afraid of us. We think,” they drew up to their full height, making the decision Diva asked for, “you should do this, to gather information, perhaps convince them of our plight.”

”I am embarrassed,” Diva began.

“With no right to be,” Sibling interrupted, “If you can convince them, this is nothing. We will be glad to sit down, get some food and trust you to know what is best. Know this though,” Sibling made a squeezing with their hand, *pay attention* it said.

“The elder,” they used a very old form of the Ladies’ secret language in case one of the others had picked up any words, “is an Empath. He is untrained, very low level, but he is one. We have yet to sense any other powered beings in the whole village.”

Diva did not let the surprise show in her face, an Empath. It would explain a lot about how he convinced the otherwise taciturn dwarf and elf to allow this, why he was so skilled at politics, from what she had seen. Sibling did not bow, which might be misunderstood here, but the urge was great. Diva understood that referring to the twins as “she” would help eliminate that particular question.

“I accept your hospitality, Ekanga.” She said, turning back to the small group. “Be very careful of my friend, I value her life above my own. I may see her at my wish?”

“Of course,” Malthu spoke from the position of authority. “She is not so much a prisoner as a curious guest, for now. I will have Bhuvana prepare the meal.” He left Diva, the guards, Ekanga and Sibling and went inside the house.

"Wish I could afford to only cook," Gal said as she slid another portion of Salmon and potatoes onto Isis' plate. "I got inta some trouble back home, runnin' with gangs and stuff, an had to leave. Got inta more trouble out here, had a few relatives that live in Virginia, and ended up in jail." She spoke to the grill, not totally embarrassed by the account, but not willing to look into the older woman's eyes either.

"Funny thing, being in jail. Made me madder than before, but I had grown to this, and pretty well ran my cellblock. Wasn't nothin' serious, four months for smackin around a guy was abusin a woman outside a bar. So, did my time and when I got out, this woman had offered me probation workin' for her. Judge accepted the deal and turned me over, probation and all. Since then, I been training to or fightin the gangs."

"Sorry about not knowin the name, I don't watch much TV or movies. My trainin is pretty intense, for some years I never saw the city, only the Island. Got me a whole lot better centered, calmed me down, helped me learn to control the powers I have."

She held out one hand, and removed a dully-glowing cast iron skillet from high heat. Laying the skillet in her palm, she continued to sautee the mushrooms in it, turning them with a spatula in the other hand.

"Comes in pretty handy sometimes, hard as stone." She winked at the other woman, "Hell on the complexion though." She allowed a small laugh.

"Now you, know I haven't seen you before on film. I'd remember a fine lady like you, girl can appreciate the female form, too. Ya say you're out here fightin for the good too, tell me."

((OOC: Gal is a stone stone tank.))

((OOC: assume that Narshawn is speaking to Rock and D at slightly different times.))

Narshawn was at first taken aback, then smiled at the forwardness of the small woman's comment. She had apprenticed with Lady Gemini, and while her tutor was blunt, she was also very reserved. Differences in culture, but Nar appreciated being up-front, and would not take offense, even if the comment seemed somewhat personal.

"Ice cubes, yes, I suppose that would be true," her smile was punctuated by rows of very pointed teeth. Her lips were almost clear, and once someone had seen the teeth, even with her mouth closed, they would see them as shadows. "It is not by choice, this," she waved at the frosted air surrounding her. "I try to have more control."

"Books and tomes have no such aversion to cold, and since I do not sleep, I have spent whole weeks in libraries. This interaction with others can be...draining." She noticed that the other woman seemed to be enjoying the drink. "The lemonade is freshly made, from fresh fruits that come from my garden. Lemons are one of the only fruits that are safe for me."

She paused, realizing she was occupying the other woman and monopolizing her time. "I am sorry, meeting someone my own stature has made me forget my manners. I am Narshawn, Daughter of Lady Gemini and Mistress of Winter."

She held out one hand, fingers pointed up in gesture, but did not make a move to grasp the other woman's hand.

"Frostbite, be careful not to touch me." Her smile returned, out of character but warm.

((OOC: Narshawn has time for those at the bar, and the story about D would interest her much, being that she leads a VERY protected life. She may be naive with actual things, but is book read about a huge number of things, just inexperienced.))
*******

"A penguin? These are animals that live in the cold," she stated, like from a textbook and not as though she knew it firsthand.

Her curiosity was not dimmed, but she had been taught better than to delve deeply into things not offered. The pitcher of beer poured, she placed it on the bar, after laying down a towel under the glass. She did not want to risk injuring the man/penguin, he seemed nice enough.

"There is also a music box, if you want to hear music, and the smoking section is clearly marked. Do not smoke outside of it, thank you," she had returned to her lecturing tone, like reading from a page. "The waitress is named Gertrude, she will retrieve food or beverages for you."

"Speaking of which," she glanced around the room, spotting the black haired woman chatting with a couple in the corner. "Gertrude? Do you have a moment?"

((OOC: Narshawn will be busy, but Gertrude will chat all night, much to her bosses consternation, for those that wish to.))

Diva and Sibling exchanged looks, there were too many eyes for them to do more, but whatever was going on, they were clueless and apparently being held responsible. The Dwarf became redder by the minute, and after the initial shock of the photo, started to become louder. Sibling noticed that the elf alone appeared less than surprised, the Troll being smug in the way only an ancient could be. By now there were more than 10 of the uniformed Trolls, all well-built and wearing something at their belts that looked like a weapon. Diva was still taller, and probably stronger than any one of them, but not all ten.

“We have no knowledge of this,” Diva said in the common tongue, knowing that Sibling would defer to her even if they could not understand. “This picture, it is not one of our clan…”

“Your clan? YOUR Clan!?” roared the very agitated dwarf, and if it was female, then both sexes had the same beards and deep voices. “The thing that stands beside you it not of YOUR clan, unless they allow bastards to cross breed in your country! This image is not of YOUR people, no matter what you may say, or do Trolls associate with slavers in your home?” She spat on the floor, directly toward Sibling and shook her fists at her side in rage.

“A little more consideration would be welcome here, Tasmiran,” spoke the Troll elder, with something like a twinkle in his eye. He watched Sibling carefully, even when they refused to dodge the insult that anyone would understand. Diva had clenched her fists, and there was an ominous change in her stance that had one or two of the guard’s hands move closer to their belt.

“Be careful what you say,” Diva spoke evenly, “My kind are not known for our even tempers.” The dwarf was not even waist-height to her, but it could also be said Dwarves were not known for their fear of odds, either. The elf had yet to speak or even move more than a hand or eye, and there was something in his face, Diva did not trust at all.

“You claim that the human,” the word was not really human, only a type of race that looked like Sibling as the Troll spoke it, “does not understand our language. Where does she come from, then?” His cane was made of some bone, log and curved.

“She does not come from here at all, neither of us do,” suddenly Diva realized the difficulty that their story would be, and how unbelievable. “As you can see,” she motioned to her horns and her height compared to the others, “we come from the other continent.” Her memories of the other continent marked it as the safest lie, many things were very different there.

“The other continent,” finally the elf spoke, his voice lilting, but the tone less than honest. “And yet you travel our country with a human, which marks you either as a servant or as a traitor? It would be impossible not to know the customs here and still travel.”

Both Sibling and Diva had mental powers, which granted them some amount of empathy or telepathy with most sentient creatures. Sibling could feel the distrust from the dwarf, the hostility from the elf, and from the Troll, there was a humorous curiosity. To Sibling it felt very much like the older man was laughing inside, some joke he felt. The dwarf was angry, but at more than just the newcomers, it was an old anger that simmered and was now coming to the surface.

“The humans do not come to this village, except to plunder!” The dwarf sputtered.

“Tasmiran, please, a little more tact. I think that any of the humans from our lands would have come with more than a single guard.” He paused a moment, “We should hear this story in full conference, if we intend to get good information.” He turned to look at the two others, making a sweeping gesture with the cane. “And fewer guards would likely make our…guests…more interested in speaking.”

The elf nodded slowly, considering thought behind his eyes. Diva saw the dwarf contain herself with some effort, still red in the face, then finally nod as well. With that, the troll hobbled over to inspect Sibling. Not tall, for his race, and stooped from years, he still was several hands taller than the twins. His horns and exposed teeth were much shorter than Diva’s, but clean and white to match the stiff shirt he wore. From his bearing, he was used to being someone of importance, and was far more political in his attitudes. Sibling was still dumb to the entire exchange, but they sensed no immediate danger from Diva or the three speakers.

“No, not of the high family, I would wager,” he said, circling Sibling, like a buyer at a livestock auction. “Her hair and eyes are the wrong color.” Sibling was patient, sensing that this was some sort of test or maybe a rite. Diva stood a step away, and ready to move if necessary. The trolls might be slightly smaller than she was, but Sibling would be nothing to their strength, even this old one’s.

The elf and dwarf said nothing, and did not look at each other, both unhappy in different ways about the goings on. Diva could not feel the emotions as well as Sibling, but there were ways to tell: stance, facial expression, flickering of the eyes. The dwarf looked at her partner with anger, like she would happily beat her because Sibling was human. The elf, he looked at her like prey, something to be owned or controlled, sizing them up with a sly smile.

Diva felt a tap on her leg, and saw that the old Troll was looking directly at her.

“I think that we should convene tomorrow,” he spoke over his shoulder to the others, still watching her face. “There is much we do not know, and questions we should ask. Tonight, these two will stay in the strong room at my home.”

This caused an outraged snort from the dwarf, and an incredulous look from the elf. The one called Tasmiran burst out:

“This is unheard of! What strikes you Malthu? You can’t keep these…Slavers, in your home!” She was almost vibrating with anger, which had begun to seem her natural state.

“Is there any question that my home and that room are the only places that might hold a Troll?” He had to say it twice to be heard over the small female. In the end, both the dwarf and elf agreed a testament to the Trolls skills in negotiation. It appeared, from what Diva could understand, that he was the eldest leader in the village, and held rank among the other two. His son was the “Sheriff” or something like it, and their home had a separate building to hold anyone that got out of hand. That was rare, and was more because of family disputes or domestic quarrels.

The decision was that the son would come, with three men, and escort Diva, Sibling and Malthu to the home. The other two council members would arrive tomorrow morning, and there would be close questioning of the strangers. From that, they would decide what to do with these two, but Diva had the impression the open group would vote: one to make them property, one to have them filleted alive and one to ask them questions. Their host seemed the most sensible of the group.

Diva tried to sum up the meeting for Sibling, keeping it short and concise. They had sensed similar things, Sibling adding in the particular emotions or thoughts they could feel. They also agreed, in obtuse terms in case someone could understand them, not to use any obvious powers until they saw what would come. As yet, they had seen none of the powers one would expect in Paragon City, no flaming displays or flying people, nothing of the sort. Even the guards had only some sort of shock weapon, intended to incapacitate and not to kill.

“This is my son,” the older Troll said when a tall, well-muscled man strode into the room.

Diva missed the rest, the troll that had come in likely did as well. Their eyes locked and something passed between them that had nothing to do with powers, and much to do with nature.

"Indeed Ms. Kitiara, though Ms. Jiang rarely announces her presence beforehand. I have yet to see her this evening," Martin maintained a manner of aloofness, as though he took little notice of trivialities, but paid strict attention to his guests, in the manner of a well trained Butler.

Narshawn grasped the glass holding the Chimay, and a look of intense concentration followed. Making something cool, but not frozen, was much more difficult than just turning it into ice. As the first crystals of ice formed on the rim of the glass, condensed from the air, she stopped and hoped the liquid would remain drinkable. She smiled at Falcon's comments, knowing that her security clearnace would belie the woman's belief in her skill.

"In fact, Miss," Martin continued after Narshawn had handed over the cooled drink, "I received a reservation from a gentleman, who's character I can vouch for, requesting a table near others. As I suspect the room will become crowded, your sharing the table would sit well with the house."

He was needed back in the main dining room, but did not appear rushed, another talent. "He generally dines in the Bar, and may appear somewhat...antiquated, in mannerisms. I will be glad to introduce you when he arrives, and if Ms. Jiang arrives later, will inform you."

"Enjoy your beverage, and our hospitality." With that he strode, purposefully, into the restaurant.

"There are some more quiet tables there," Narshawn pointed along the wall. Service," she made a show of looking around for Gertrude, "is not as good as the restaurant, but I'll serve you myself if the waitress does not soon appear."


****

"Hollywood? Girl, you must have been big time! An ya had me fooled with the accent, would'a swore you were 'Bama or a southern girl." Gal's accent became much more pronounced as she spoke with Isis, falling back to rhythms from her childhood.

"Good lookin' girl like you should still be makin' movies, gots a nice body. I'd pay eight bucks ta see ya." She smiled wide, keeping pans and plates cooking. She noticed that there was dwindling food on Isis' plate, and threw another piece of Salmon on the Salamander.

"You still hungry? Gotta keep your strength up, you wanna fight crime. Me? I plow through enough ta feed an army," she glanced down at her thighs, "an it shows."

((OOC: Gal is conscious of her weight, and being extremely tall makes her more so. She is also a woman who appreciates women, but would not make a pass at Isis, as she has a steady partner, who she refers to as her "wife". Just be aware she will appreciate Isis' form. Nothing you don't want, nothing lewd, but giving you warning.))

Gal was happy to see another woman of color in the place, she missed the south sometimes. "Hope you like the food, my mamaw taught me how to cook. Saint Louis, wrong side of the tracks, where I'm from."

She seated Isis and made sure she had a good view, close to the action. "Where'd you say you're from?"

((OOC: Isis will get the royal treatment, love to hear her story.))

Beth was taken aback as she called another group from the bar, seeing Falcon come in, her simple elgance was amazing. Narshawn was just serving the Chimay, and asking if she wished it cool, since they did not keep it refrigerated.

"Miss Falcon? You look lovely tonight. Are you expecting others or are you dining alone? I can have your meal brought to the bar if you like." Martin was just returning from seating some others, and his look approved of Falcon's wear.

"I would promote the special this evening, Miss. Ms. 'O War makes a very fine Prime Rib."

((OOC, Beth would see Falcon in the bar, and assume she is dining from her lovely attire. Please describe to the hilt, it makes the world more real. If Falcon wishes a dining partner, she just simply has to imply it, Martin can feel these things.))

She could stand her curiosity no longer, and the creature seemed willing to talk. "What are you?"

((OOC: Narshawn is made of ice, but has never been to any pole or seen penguins before, or polar bears or the like. Where she is from, most creatures are crystaline based, salt, ice or stones. She has lived long on Earth, but has rarely been off her Island Home, and is very curious about odd things, but shy to say so.))

"Please be cautious of the felt, sirs and Miss." Narshawn reached behind the bar to remove the cue ball, and handed it to the group. "The tables are quite old. If you wish for anything while in the Pool Room, Gertrude will be through," she pointed to a dark haired woman just coming from a set of swinging doors, delivering an order to another table.

She had trouble looking at anything besides the wildly colored hero ((wild for her experience, she is recently from an enclave where everyone is generally in muted earth tones)). Her stare was apparent, but she tried to be discreet.

((OOC: Narshawn will pour whatever drinks the heroes want, hovering around to the liquors.))

After the group was served, she turned back to the woman with her drink. "Lemonade is a favorite of mine. It is rare that someone asks for it, that I have found. Pardon me for asking, but it is also rare to see another person, my size," her translucent cheeks changed to a darker shade of blue.

((Narshawn wears clothes, which are more her creation than purchased. She is truly made of ice, all her features chiseled and her outfit cracks and reforms constantly. You might notice a chill to your drink, her control is imperfect. Ice Blaster.))

Gal checked the clock on the wall, behind Narshawn. She was happy to see that the young woman had found someone she could talk to, normally she was very reserved.

"I can't leave the grill fer long, sorry," she motioned to the plate Isis had. "You'd be welcome to bring it over though, seats right up on the platform where you could watch me work. I'd love ta have ya keep me company."

She wiped a hand on her towel and held it out to the other woman. "Gal, Gal 'O War, owner and cook. I'm glad ta meet another Sistah, don't see many around this far north."

She noticed the tumbler at Isis' elbow, and smiled. "See you found Fulton's Reserve, hope it's ok. Made by some relatives in Missourah," she winked and laughed.

((OOC: Gal will relish the opportunity to have Isis come up and watch, she is a little proud of her cooking. The conversation would be grand too. Don't sweat the next day thing, luckily, it could as easily be the next day when they speak.))

((OOC: Manion, Gal had told Beth to "lose" your bill, and she would have come up with some excuse not to bring it. Hope that doesn't hurt your feelings ))

Narshawn was accustomed to heroes, some with outrageous costumes, but the appearance of the large black and white creature gave her pause. She needed to get out more, apparently, but her studies occupied a large part of her time.

"Good afternoon," she said by way of greeting as they approached the bar. "May I help you?" Her eyes stayed on the strangely colored man.

Gal had just finished cleaning off the Wolf salamander, keeping up with the cleaning would make every opening easier. Vegas walked up, looking a little less fresh than usual, but far from haggard. Gal rounded up everyone, Gertrude with her coat on, Martin still pressed, Gypsy with a look that spoke of more effort this night than was usual for her.

"Everyone, thank you." She had Vegas pass around a number of labeled envelopes, each with a name. "That's for your effort, tonight went great! Compliments to the entire bunch."

They all looked surprised, except for Martin, who never looked anything but...sour. She laughed. As they filtered away to their homes or other appointments, Beth lingered.

"Gal," she said, timidly, "Thank you, for all you've done for me." She gave Gal a quick hug, then hurried out the door.

*Hell* she thought, *I didn't even have to fight any Vahz.*

((OOC: New day, thank you all!))

Gertrude was just on her way over with the steak when she saw Jack stand, he was barking into a cellphone. A moment later he waved to her, *at least he wasn't trying to stiff the house* she thought.

"You leaving?" She pouted her lips out, hoping he wasn't put out with her slow service, it was really busy. "I can wrap the dinner for you, Gal's been known to make a sandwich out of these things."

She settled his bill quickly, using the loose notes from her apron. He'd been one of the nicest guys in, she really was sorry to see him have to rush out.

"Hope it wasn't the service, I've been a little busy. Tell you what," she said as Narshawn wrapped the meal on a ceramic dish, to keep it warm, " you come back in, I'll make sure you get special attention." Followed by batting lashes and a noise from Narshawn, who was watching. "I mean, SG night is Sunday. Bring in more than four members of a recognized SG, and you get twenty-five percent off your bill."

When Narshawn had returned to gathering glasses, she winked and blew him a kiss, then disappeared into the kitchen.

((OOC: I really hope I didn't ignore you. Gertrude would have paid closer attention, but the bar was more popular than I thought. I hope to see Jack, and any friends, back for dinner or maybe a complimentary beer?))

"Ah, but you do know somethings of the world," Jing murmured after they sat for a moment, neither reaching for their food. She carefully reached across the table with two laquered chopsticks, taking a mushroom from the center of Falcon's plate. She made a show of placing it in her mouth and swallowing, doing the same with every plate in front of Falcon.

"Your food is safe," she said as she began to eat her own. While Falcon had the mushrooms and the rest of her meal, Jing had a steaming bowl of rice and several smaller bowls, which she would dip some rice into here or there. One had the obvious odor of fish, and was a dark broth with pieces of something in it.

"Some of those I associate with are also followers of nature, been they very happy in the forests. I think you would find them to be good friends.

"Imagine not seeing your parents for ten years, then you know what my school was. You seem wise and fair, and this, no school can teach you." Jing spoke only when she had nothing in her hands, or mouth, being deliberate in her movements.

((OOC: Part of her training as a courtesan was tasting food for others. Poisoning is still a method of removing an enemy, and considered an honorable way to remove obstacles among her fellows. She does not mean to offend, but misunderstands Falcon's wait to eat. A stranger might well wait for someone of the house to taste the food before they tried it.

Gertrude stepped up to the platform, catching Gal's attention. The cast iron had been hot all night, hardly a slow minute.

"It's almost midnight, should I call in the bar?"

Gal checked the clock, it was getting late. "Yeah, girl, but don't hurry anyone out. I'll have Martin lock the doors in about thirty, tell him and Beth on your way. No more from the kitchen tonight, unless it's already going. You made sure to lose that young single-guy's and that Falcon woman's bills?" She had only one steak cooking, and that was going to the bar, which she realized had been quiet.

*No sense in letting the staff have all the fun* she thought. Gathering the fried potatoes and cornbread that came with every steak plate from the main kitchen, she carried the order herself into the bar.

"Last call," she heard just before passing through the doors, Gertrude having the voice to be heard while Narshawn did not.

She knew the plate was for a woman, and a nod from Nar pointed her to Isis. She smiled wide, tired but glad.

"Pardon me, but here's your order," she took a chance, but except for Sweet, African-American heroes were an oddity. "Nice to see another sistah, and the hair is fine!"

((OOC: Gal's background is as a gang-banger, raised in East St. Louis. Stone Tank, magic. She lives with Sibling, who has not appeared due to their adventures in another thread, but will be delighted by Isis' accent, and probably ask some questions. Since she owns the place, if others get shooed out by Martin "The restaurant is closed" the Maitre 'd, Gal will make sure Isis can stay and chat. Don't forget, once the place closes, pretend that the next day at 4PM starts, but you are welcome to make reservations or observe the place when it is closed, for more realism.

"I will need to see your identification," Narshawn hovered slightly higher to see the new woman over the bar. *She cannot be much taller than I am*

After checking the document, she smiled, almost twice the blaster's age. It was a personal joke, since she was only barely ten years old here. She had been brought to this world as a suckling infant, cast out form her home because she was from an ice tribe and born to a stone tribe, she would have perished if the Sisters had not known and rescued her. Her race aged very quickly, but lived long lives, compared to humans.

It was nice to see someone of similar height, amongst the giants the city bred.

"Welcome, there is food available for another hour if you care for it." She motioned to the tables in the bar, along the wall, "You may sit or stay, Gertrude will take any food order you have. What was your drink again, please?"

((OOC: Narshawn will warm up quickly to someone her size, ummm, but stay frozen. lol

Sorry if I was vague: The bar has tables along one wall, it is longer than it is wide, one wall completely taken up by the polished bar. The door is across the room from the bar itself, so the bartender can see anyone coming in or leaving by the outside door. The dart and pool room is opposite the hall that leads from the restaurant.

"Steak, medium rare," she noted it on the bill. Gal distrusted most electronics, so the tabs and bills were kept on old paper tablets and tallied on a computer at the end. "That will be a few minutes, and if you leave a decent tip, you can call me Gerry."

Gertrude left, through the swinging doors to the kitchens, and returned a moment later with Isis' salad. "Would you care to sit at a table, ma'am?" She noticed that the woman with the drawl was now at a table, and a quick word from Narshawn sent the waitress over with a tall glass of tonic water and a plate of spiced chicken wings. The word was: soda or water only for this table.

******

"An unused blade is worthless." Jing stated flatly, admiring the work of the weapon. Though it was far too heavy and large for her style, there was no mistaking it was well-forged and balanced. Her own sword was much lighter, more for quick and penetrating blows, but this weapon could likely cause terrible damage in the right hands.

She watched the woman with fiery hair out of the corner of one eye. Why someone would leave so beautiful a land for this City, she did not understand. Her own situation, well, perhaps she did understand.

"You love nature, things natural, this is a blessing. Even the greatest art is nothing to a single raindrop, the Spring in my country is beyond words. Seeing this, and knowing it, is all.

"You flatter me again," she smiled, again with closed lips. "I will be much older than you think, but there is schools to teach the old ways. My family is very traditional, and not all believe that a president is best.

"My training was strict, all of the proper ways to keep house and tradition," she left out that it was also frowned upon that a woman would take her house's sword into battle, but Jing did not, Gemini did. "My house was very kabiu, proper," she corrected herself.

"There are many things tradition can teach us, not all things new are better. I will tell, I live in this city, but prefer the open skies." The description Falcon gave of her home and family twinged something in Jing, in her childhood there were strict lessons, almost constant work.

"My youth was spent learning that this," she pointed to a small wooden spoon, "must always be placed so," she picked the tool up, used to spoon out the tea into cups. "The smallest error could bring offense, and this could lead to feud, loss of face. These things last for many years." She paused, realizing she was voicing some of the very reasons she had left home.

"While my brothers ran and played, being Shogun and warriors in the fields, my place was in the home. I watched them grow, watched them become men, while I schooled in the arts of manner. I would have been a nobleman's wife," she skewed the truth only slightly, her place would have been consort to a Yakuza boss. "Many things change, but I take pleasure in these things, these memories of my child times.

"My pardon, I sometimes speak to much about feelings. Your home sounds very beautiful, and you are a hero also. We both protect others as we can, I help women who run from abuse or violence. That is why I am in this city, to help women who cannot fight." She placed one hand in her blouse and withdrew a card from within the folds.

Using both hands, she passed the card over the table, the tea starting to cool too much and the bitter taste coming through. "In your work, you may meet those who need such care. Please," she held the card expectantly.

Two young men approached from the back of the room, carrying the first course and appetizers for the table.

((OOC: If Falcon is observant, and I think she is, she would notice a great many white scars on Jing's left hand. Like tiny slices, all healed, but visible. She is a katana-regen scrapper, and if she draws her sword cannot sheath it without drawing blood, hence the scars where she draws her own. If they get to know each other outside, in her hero identity, there is much more to her story.))

Business had stayed steady through the night. Gal glanced at the clock just before 10, the group around Thang's table were apparently enjoying the evening. She smiled to herself behind the pots and spoons.

"Gal," Vegas said as she swept by with a group, "The guy at table four asked to see you if you have time." She was going to need to hire more staff, Vegas shouldn't be seating, she had enough to do besides.

"Hello again," Gal had to dodge an arm from one of the heroes with Bliss' group. He apologized, promising to keep it down. "I hope the fish was right. Can I have Beth get you somethin' from the desserts?"

*****

"Pardon me, Miss," Vegas had heard through the bar's waitress that someone was having trouble with her seat. As she walked up, she noticed one of the other patrons had also seen the young woman. From her voice, Vegas guessed she was from the south, and the lady with the hat sounded like Texas.

"Ma'am," Vegas put on her best concerned face, "I think this stool is broken, careful!" She caught the woman's arm when she swayed, firmly but not roughly. "It's a little warm in here, too, you look faint. Let me seat you at a table, and I'll make sure a chair with four legs."

She motioned to Narshawn, out of Bait's view, a cutting motion across the throat *No more liquor*. To Isis she passed a tolerant smile, and a wink for thanks.

"Maybe Gertrude could get you something to eat?" Vegas asked.

((OOC: Vegas is a trained bouncer and is a Dark Scrapper, SR. She is well built, and dressed in a way she can become more, persuasive, if someone gets belligerent. She will hold off on that, since it looks like Bait is just letting off steam, and she can understand that too. She will also pass Isis' order to the house when she leaves, and the salad will arrive quickly, the steak a little longer.))

Jing smiled, with closed lips, and took the proferred hand in a light grasp. She carefully arranged her skirt to sit. The material was elegant and very carefully ironed, making stiff movements. A careful eye would notice she sat away from the chair back and to the side of the chair, her right arm away from any obstacles.

"Your words are flattering, I thank you. My home is Japan, near Hokaido, and my manners were a gift from my father." She did not need to look at the menu, she knew Gal would have her usual favorite prepared. "I was raised to be a courtesan, to a royal house. The Rikti destroyed a large part of my village, and I traveled here to escape the grief."

Beth returned a moment later, carrying a small platter, balancing a steaming pot and several odd shaped implements. Jing accepted the tray, covered in images and calligraphy, with a nod, placing the items carefully in front of her. After she had the items in place, to her satisfaction, she stopped and waited.

"I have never been traveling to your country, but it sounds very beautiful. The snows in my home are rare, or in the mountains," she looked over the attire her companion wore, no indication of her opinion in her face. "You have the looks of a warrior, the clothing and weapons. Will you join me in tea? I would like much to hear of you and your home."

Martin was making a round of the room, and with his almost supernatural feeling of propriety, paused long enough to place a second delicate teacup at the table. He could be invisible, figuratively, and things just seemed to turn up when he was near, sugar, an extra spoon, a glass of wine.

((OOC: Jing will never embarrass another, as a matter of face. Pointing out the blood stains or indicating that anything is less than perfect with a respected guest would shame her and her house. She would compliment Kitiara on her weapon, her strong body and her homeland, being gracious as she has been taught. She observes the tea ceremony precisely, with the exception being she will converse during the process, and it is a sign of respect that she would perform it with Kitiara. If she is allowed, she would examine the blade after, swords being an area of interest for her.

Sì, la Toscana è un posto bello. Li invidio.))

Gal took the offered hand, smiling herself. "Always happy to have friends. Beth, please bring Jing over," the younger woman left and headed toward the doorway. "I have to get back to the kitchen, Jing will make sure you don't get too bored. And welcome to the city, anything you need, tell Beth."

Gal headed back to the platform, stopping on the way to tell one of the staff that the woman's dinner was on the house. They would "forget" to bring the check.

"Miss Kitiara," Beth said in introduction, "Please meet Jing Jiang," The tall Asian woman bowed. Her billowing oriental bouse and long skirt moving silently around her. ((Jing Jiang, 6' tall, Katana scrapper. Her sword, Winter Blossom, is worn on her back beneath the blouse, hidden. Her hero ID is Lady Gemini, secret ID now. She speaks with an accent, but is good at conversation, and knows the goings on in the city. Bushido Code.))

"I am pleased to meet you." She said and straightened up, noticing the sword on the chair. "I am told you are new to the city, from where do you come?"

((OOC: Gemini will talk about most things, even discuss her home country, Japan, but be evasive about her particular family, she is a secret hero. She is known to make arrangements involving women and her shelter for battered women, which is how Gertrude got this job.

Ho vissuto a Vicenza per tre anni. Ed il vostro inglese è molto più meglio del mio italiano. ))

"Medium it is, then. Cooked through but still a little juicy. The fish is caught wild, and live until an hour before open, so it's safe that way." She knew what it was to wait for someone important, the minutes passed like hours. "Let Beth know if there's anything else we can do for you."

((OOC: She was at the grill in between.))

"There are always tables for ladies with manners." Gal nodded. "It is getting a little crowded though," she said, noticing a familiar face coming through the door. The accent was certainly not from the US, but the English was better than many American's. "I know it may seem odd, but since we are getting crowded, would you mind if a friend of mine sat here?"

She thought she saw a longing in the eyes, and her intuition seemed to say this woman would like company. It wasn't uncommon in some places for strangers to share a table, and she hoped that applied to this woman's home. Sisters were required to offer comfort and solace to anyone in need, and that included needs for companionship.

((OOC: Gal is friendly to a fault. A fellow Sister is just arriving, and prefers company as well. If you would like Gal to seat her at your table, a nod is all she needs. If not, there will probably be plenty of traffic and opportunities. Welcome, Buongiorno!))

((OOC: Sorry Jack, we call long coats Dusters out here, my fault. Thank you for not stomping out ))

Gertrude flashed a smile, curled up at one side, and walked back to the bar. She placed an order for one Pyramid Stout, a dark but not bitter beer, and grabbed a bowl of still warm peanuts. Narshawn might be more serious than she liked, but she could top a beer, the head just peeking over the glass.

"Coaster, Jack," she playfully admonished him, carefully setting the tall glass down on it. She put the peanuts in the center of the table and pulled out her order pad. "Do you know what looks good, or need to see a menu?"


******

Gal noticed a man watching the door intently on her way back to the grills. It wasn't nervous, just that he was waiting on something or someone. She figured Gypsy could handle the heat a little longer and swung by the table.

"Good evenin', I'm Gal," she bent to come closer to his seated height, not trying to intimidate. "How'd you like your salmon done? Anything from a little red inside to crisp."

"Indeed," Narshawn flashed a toothy grin that came and went in one breath, that liquor had a similar effect on most. She managed to catch Gertrude's eye between batting lashes, summoning her from her unheard discussion with the tall gentleman. "Gertrude will be happy to provide food, and a menu."

Narshawn deftly removed the empty tumbler and replaced it with one that carried a slight rime of frost, where she touched it.

"I am curious of your accent, pardon me," she had no intention to offend, "The owner has a similar accent."

Gertrude came up, pad in hand to take Isis' order.



*****


Gal saw Beth heading across the floor, she tried to keep an eye on the goings on. The menu she carried was specifically for Sisters, so the tall black woman stepped from behind the counter, anxious to see if Sibling was back and trying to be unobtrusive. There was a woman with Beth, but it was no Sister.

Gal motioned as Vegas passed by, asking her to get Gypsy back on the grill. She patted Thang's shoulder in greeting when she passed their table, they were putting away the food. Beth was just speaking about the specials when Gal walked up.

"Pardon me," she stopped next to Beth, making sure the smaller woman saw her, "I don't think we've met." The towering tanker held up one hand, a sign for Sisters, and watched the woman with the sword closely. It wouldn't be the first time she met a new Sister, but the tattoos were not of The Island.

((OOC: If Kitiara seems confused, Gal will apologize, play off the hand signal and make sure she gets a proper menu. She would be glad to exchange some pleasantries with the woman. I don't speak Norsk, sorry, but if she indicates a language barrier, Narshawn's area of study is language and Gal would probably have her come in to make her guest more at home. It would be stilted, and not fluent, but this place is for everyone. Gal will give Beth a lecture later about identifying people, and not assuming. What's a wait staff without some opening night issues?))

The woman with long black hair circled the bar, passing by tables and clearing glasses from their coasters. She made a quick circle through the Pool and Darts Room, punching in the house code for random play on the jukebox. On her trip back through the room, she noticed someone new sitting down at a table, his long duster draped around his chair.

On her way, she picked up the tip left by the young guy, Manion. Part of her deal with Gal was that she got all the tips in the bar and worked for less than minimum wage. Nar had her own agreement, but when Gertrude had mentioned splitting the tips during training, the tiny woman's stare said it all. It was ice that had nothing to do with the blaster's powers.

"Good evening, sir," she spoke to him as she laid a coaster down near his elbow. "I'm Gertrude, happy to serve you tonight. I can bring a menu, we have plenty of selections, fresh from the kitchens next door. Can I start you out with something strong, or maybe dark and full-bodied? To drink, of course," she batted her eyelashes.

((OOC: Gertrude is pretty harmless, and if you've read the thread, you know she's flirty for the tips. You might find a flyer lying on the table when she leaves if you are looking for something with a bite, but it doesn't cover the food. ))

Gal's smile faded slightly.

"I don' know where they are tonight. Hoped they would be here for the opening, but you know how things are when you associate with the city's players," she made an obvious glance to Bliss. "They headed out this morning with Diva and GG. Went to meet a Portal guy in Peregrine, and should have been back hours ago."

She noticed that Gypsy was at the stove, trying hard not to burn herself and still keep the pans moving. Gal wouldn't feel the heat, Gypsy didn't have stone hands.

"I gotta get back to the stove, love," she nodded to the table in general, "They'll turn up." She strode to the raised floor and bowed quickly to the dark woman managing the pans, which brought a much lower bow in return. The clock passed eight and she could tell business was good.

According to Vegas, who was really handling everything, the bar was doing a brisk business, too. She hoped things would keep up this way, many of these sorts of businesses started out like gangbusters and then petered out. Wouldn't do for putting food on the table.

((OOC: I will be trying to keep time flowing, so imagine that the night is winding down. Having RP nights that last for weeks makes it tough to keep the story flowing. Don't worry, Ladies is only closed on Wednesdays. Otherwise, feel free to post to the thread as though it's always open. The bar and restaurant both close at 1AM, even heroes need to get home and do their laundry sometime.

Much thanks thus far, and don't be scared away if you want to hang out a while more. The facility will "close" for the night tomorrow (Friday) afternoon, until then, enjoy the hopitality only a Southern Lady can provide.))