Sibling

Martin took a careless step, trying to appear as though he was lost in thought, and actually interposing himself between the newcomer and his dining room. For all that Martin was unpowered, a simple waiter, that room was his domain, and few would get past him without a reservation or escort to a table.

"Pardon me," his voice conveyed that accidental surprise. "I did not see you come in," he sketched a quick bow in apology. "I am Martin, the Maitre 'd, and this is Ladies by the Lake, allow me to welcome you. May I ask if you have a reservation?" He glanced at the seating chart, noting several empty tables.

"We have a table available, if you wish to sit, or you may perhaps appreciate the Bar, which also serves a complete menu." His trained eye took in the woman, the pieces of cybernetics, the somewhat bewildered expression and the arm in her possession.

"Ahem, would you like me to check that item for you? I can assure you it will be secure." His hand waved towards the arm, a polite quirk of his eyebrow followed.

((OOC: Welcome to you Betty! Martin is, as you have read, a little proper and might seem stiff. He is. However, he will seat you, or gladly walk you to the bar with the professional demeanor his particular trade knows. He asks to check the arm, but you can carry it to the table, he is only worried about possible injury to the fixtures. Bots are notorious for coming back at inopportune times. ))

"We all do as we think best," Narshawn watched the scaled man through the side of one eye, she was trying very hard to learn how to speak without lecturing. "Not every contact is completely clear about their intentions, not every mission well defined. Some are known to take....liberties, with their vague jobs." Her disturbing smile, her tiny, piranha teeth showing.

"I do not think you would find many heroes that doubt Countess Crey is involved in evil, or that Nemesis should be jailed. The process is to protect people, like perhaps me, that could be seen as a villain." Her eyes had no true brows, but the widening of her eyes conveyed the same emotion.

"Look at me, do I not look like a villain." The small smile became one that wrapped mostly around her head, blue light shone from her eyes and icy spines protruded from her arms and shoulders. Teeth grew, from small points to long barbs as her breath wafted frozen waves. Her voice dropped in tone, "This is how I truly am, would it not bring heroes to defeat me if I walked the streets thus? Citizens fear me, so I maintain a more...human appearance." The changes receded, leaving behind the small woman in deep blue, not a costume, but her frozen skin.

"I am glad that the city and heroes maintain a system of courts and justice, though I do understand your point." She poured another two fingers for his glass. "Those who serve evil, are repayed by it. One of my Sisters has met those people, and can gladly say, she has seen them in the Ziggurat.

"So far as a greater power, I believe in the Goddess. You may call her by any name, but I still believe she watches over me, over all who serve the greater good. Someone must," she smiled, close lipped, "I am an ice woman tending bar in a city full of heroes, apprenticed to a woman more than a hundred years old that looks no more than thirty and working for a woman made of stone who's partner is two people in one body. Could that be accident?"

"The world is strange indeed," agreed Narshawn. "You may drink alcohol with no effect, where it would likely kill me to have even a small amount." She refilled his glass, holding it between two fingers until a mist began to swirl from the bottom.

"For villains, what would all these people do if there were no evil to fight? Nature finds a balance, if there is one mighty hero, there will be one terrible villain." She spoke matter-of-factly, hardly trying to dispense wisdom.

A tall man, bald and his skin the color of a lobster, walked through the door and parted the curtains. Martin noticed him immediately and moved from behind the podium. The newcomer's eyes glowed a rich blue, his movements as though in a hurry.

"Mr. Broady," Martin addressed him, "May I inquire as to why you are needing the seal and signature of a Notary. I understood your call, but must say I am unsure about the reasoning." The Maitre 'd's tone was cool, but he would never show doubt when speaking to another.

"Martin, me frien', I am as unsure as you. I received thi' by tha' post." Handing over a letter with the official City of Paragon seal and letterhead. Martin took a moment to scan the letter.

"I have spoken to Miss War, but let us see if this is perhaps a forgery. You are a hero, now, Mister Broady, and there could be many who would happily lead you into a trap. This way, Miss Candice," he caught the woman's attention, which seemed much sharper than the other night, "Please take care of the seating for a moment, and do not leave the podium." His tone was stern, but she nodded eagerly. Gal's fifteen minute talk with her had apparently made some good.

Martin lead the other man towards the kitchen, receiving a nod from Gal as they passed. "Good to see ya' tonight, Steve," she said in passing. The skillets were hot and she was constantly moving them from high heat to simmer or sear. Like any good chef, she would set the burners and never change them all night, moving the food instead.

Once in the kitchen, Martin nodded to several of the staff, Gypsy just leaving with the platter for the brightly colored woman. His destination was the end of one automated dish washer, used exclusively for the glassware from the bar, right now idle. He raised the smoked glass panel at the last section, using a towel to make certain no water remained on the steel platform.

Steve Broady watched with fascination. He had never seen such somplex equipment, and the uses he understood, but people washed dishes in his time. Even the simple mixers and kitchen tools were amazing, electricity still being a laboratory experiment when he had left. Martin closed the compartment, the paper still visible but shielded by the smoked panel.

Martin pressed a button, manually activating the stage, a faint blue glow eminated from the small bulbs mounted in the upper surface.

"Mister Broady, this is called an ultra-violet light. It is harmful to human eyes, but can kill germs quite well, with no chemicals. The City imprints their official documents with watermarks that appear only under such light, and as you can see, this bears one such mark." He pointed to the glowing ink in the shape of City Hall, repeated many times across the page.

Switching off the device, he removed the letter and read it over again. Steve's full name, and even his proper employment dates with the Pennsylvania Railroad, a mention of some entitlement and insurance plan.

"Let me get my seal, sir. We will place this in the record and then there may be time still to reach the registrar's office at the City Hall." He moved with some speed, still stiff and proper.

Inside the office, Martin placed his imprinted seal on the document and signed a Notary document that indicated this was indeed, J. Steve Broady. After writing it up in his record, where all his seals and transactions were kept, he handed it to Steve.

"Thank ye' Martin, I'll be sure ta' tell ya' what is the word." The bald man patted Martin on the very pressed sleeve, smiled and quickly made his way to the door, heading for the tram to Atlas Park.

((OOC: Steve is about to get some good news, and I had to fit it in somehow. It has to do with something that happened in-game, and I am trying to find a way to explain it. Hope this is ok with everyone...))

Gypsy carried the tray on her shoulder, the thick cloth of her Cossack trousers and blouse whispering quietly as she walked. Most of her outfits were the same, deep burgundy, midnight blue or a burnt orange with the old writing embroidered on them, forming patterns and images. Her clothes spoke of her family, her Kak. She enjoyed colored clothing, had some more outrageous outfits as proper for a Gypsy of high status, for family gatherings. So many here had poor taste in color and style, these skin tight outfits with no adornment but spikes or steel plates.

She caught sight of the table the order was for, and then the woman with the wine glass. Her eyes widened at the colors and style, a woman with taste!

"Madam, I have brought your dinner," her Slavic accent was heavy, but she was careful with the words. She was obviously appreciating the woman's clothes, her dark lips pulled up in a smile that showed no teeth. "I say your eye is sharp for beauty, a saying from my home." She realized that she had not yet layed out the meal, and quickly started.

The plate was layed out with the fish, just the slightest sign of crispness at the corners, some herbs placed around the rim. The pear was on a separate plate, and cut in such a way as to resemble a peaked tent, some sliced away for effect and placed to one side like a set of bleachers. The potatoes, likewise, had been sliced and crisped in the shape of three rings, touching. Gypsy's smile was smaller now, more self-conscious.

((OOC: Gypsy's Queen is the last of her family, something she has come to terms with. She loves being a Gypsy, or Romanes as they call each other, is a Sister under Narshawn, but certainly more blunt than most. Some comments may sound rude, but that is her small language barrier. Being royalty, sometimes she will be a little aloof, but with someone like Festival, a member of the honored Carnival tradition, she would be quite at home.))

Well, since we don't know what RP is, but live in Paragon, you could try calling us sometime. We have a therapist's office in Talos, where we help people who think there is some bigger world. It is amazing that some have this delusion that they are 'controlled' by some other being, some operator.

Well, if you want to visit or just chat, call us, Sibling, on the Global Chat Network, way better than Verizon. Be yourself, that is our advice.

((OOC: And you really can call Sibling! Good luck. ))

"Careful, now" Gal scowled, "flattery will only get you a free meal." Her scowl quickly shifted into a white-toothed smile. "Let me welcome you to Paragon, anyone's welcome here.

"I don' know that much about wines, I appreciate 'em, but Martin is the Sommelier. He makes all the decisions. Now food, that I know," the sound of rattling cast iron turned her head. "And good as Gypsy is, I better get back up to the fire. The Ahi was your'n? Hope you like it, managed to get some space on a plane out of Oahu, never frozen.

"Tell Martin if you need anythin', Gypsy will be around some too." The tall black tanker moved with purpose back to her grills. Festival might have seen Gal give Gypsy a hard look over a large container of Paprika the smaller scrapper held over the pans, and the sheepish look Gal got in return when she placed the spice back in the overhead rack.

((OOC: Gypsy will be by in a few minutes with your dinner, since the Ahi should only sear a for a split second to bring out the taste. They are big steaks, sorry, but she has to use it or it will spoil Don't ruin your figure, she does warm to-go plates too.))

Gal made her way past several diners, making a small comment to one or the other, asking about the service and food. She introduced herself among the newcomers, and shook hands with some regulars. Working her way around the room, she finally arrived at Festival's table.

"Good evening Miss," she started, standing a little back from her personal space. "I'm Gal, the owner and cook. Martin was sayin' how impressed he was with your taste in wines, and ah' wanted to ask after the selection. We try to please here."

She took a quick look at the woman, definitely not Carnie, she thought. Her tiara would have warned her if this was a villain, and it stayed perfectly cold under her afro and hair cover. Not a group she had ever dealt with though, and her curiosity was raised.

"May ah' ask your name?" She was smiling with genuine warmth.

******

"Good evening again," Narshawn recognized the man.

"I believe that Chilled Vodka is traditional," she held a cup that began to frost over. "Stolichnaya is acceptable?" Her smile hid her tiny teeth, she had found some put off by them.

"Indeed, a pleasure to have your patronage, madame." He uncorked the bottle, leaving the cork against her plate. He poured out a glass, taking care of the bottle.

"Have you decided? I would not presume to think you would take my recommendation, though Miss Gal is known for her fish."

He patiently waited for her response.

"Beth," Martin spoke quietly to her near the podium, "the young lady that I just seated, she has a fine nose for wine. I will be in the cellar for a moment, please watch the front and have Gypsy do the seating." With that quick instruction he was off, surprising Beth with his enthusiasm.

A few minutes later, Martin himself returned, with the bottle. Walking to the table, he placed the warm bread basket and small oil decanter to one side. On one coaster he placed the proper glass and presented the bottle, before opening, to Festival.

The label was a stylized schoolhouse, done similar to a child's crayon drawing, showing a house, hot-air balloon and tractor. Some dust was apparent on the bottle, but the neck and top were clean and still moist from Martin's attention.

"Miss, I present the L'Ecole. I must applaud your taste and knowledge, it is twice the wine that some wines twice the price pretend to be. The label is of the schoolhouse where the wine is produced, but I would venture you already knew of this." His tone left no doubt he considered her taste of the finest caliber. "One note of caution, please be mindful of the table, it is alive and the owner has a special attachment to them." He smiled stiffly, the only way he knew how to.

"Would Miss care for the bottle?" Martin deftly opened his Chateau-Laguiole wine knife, the silver bolsters and bone handle shining dully in the soft lighting, ready to open the bottle.

((OOC: You think Gal would have just any wine cellar? We had it installed just for you!))

((OOC: Sure, and Gertrude's two kids will starve without your tips...heartless cad...))

Martin had noticed that Beth was pre-occupied, had seemed not quite herself since last night. She went about her usual duties, and that was all he truly cared about. Personal matters were personal, unless they affected work.

The large clock above the main door, an intricate sundial that somehow cast it's shadow on the correct time, regardless of the lack of sunlight, had just arrived on opening time. The phone rang as he keyed open the antique oak and walnut doors, he pocketed the keys and lifted the receiver.

"Yes, Mr. Broady," he intoned solemnly after the usual greeting. "I was unaware that there was still an office in Paragon City...ah, not the Railroad proper then...yes, sir...I am still registered...yes, certainly, I will speak with Miss Gal...my seal is here...I shall await your arrival, good evening, sir."

Very little surprised Martin, being a servant in a powered household, very curious things occurred with startling regularity. Needing his Notary Seal on some documents would be one of the more normal activities he had done in some time. Perhaps half an hour, he thought, asking Beth to watch the door until he could speak to Gal.

He had returned just in time to greet the colorful woman at the podium. No eyebrow raised, his mask of polite boredom was impenetrable, worn like armor against strangeness. The immaculate suit, tailored to his thin frame the same as his face, extremely proper and unobtrusive.

"Good evening Miss," glancing at the seating chart, "welcome to Ladies by the Lake. I am Martin, the Maitre 'd. We have formal dining in the main restaurant or more casual service in the Bar, but with the full menu.

"Yes, I hope you will find our wine list to your liking, many of our selections do not appear. I would venture that you have an idea the selection you would like, but if I may be so forward, the seared Ahi is excellent this evening, served with new potatoes and goes quite well with our Billecart Salmon, " pronounced 'sahl-moh', "or perhaps something else more rich?"

He handed over a specials list printed on heavy paper, the lightest blue impregnated with rich green letters:

Specials

SEVRUGA CAVIAR & TUNA TARTARE
asian pear, crispy potato, crème frâiche
C NV SEGURAS VIUDAS ‘ARIA’ BRUT, PENEDES, SPAIN

SEARED HUDSON VALLEY FOIE GRAS
“cinnamon french toast”, caramelized green apples
C 1999 PRINZ VON HESSEN ‘WINKELER HASENSPRUNG’ RIESLING, GERMANY

BUTTER POACHED MAINE LOBSTER
parsnip potato puree, roasted porcini mushroom, sea beans
C 2000 FISHER ‘COACH INSIGNIA’ CHARDONNAY, SONOMA, CALIFORNIA

GRILLED PRIME AGED SIRLOIN STEAK
garlic yukon fries, roasted long beans, spiced port sauce
C 2000 HOGUE ‘GENESIS’CABERNET SAUVIGNON, COLUMBIA VALLEY, WA

BUCHERON CHEVRE
quince jelly, toasted almonds
C 2000 KUNDE ESTATE ZINFANDEL, SONOMA, CALIFORNIA

FLOURLESS CHOCOLATE CAKE
kahlua sabayon, malted chocolate ice cream, caramel sauce, pecan brittle
C NV FONSECA VINTAGE CHARACTER

WINE LIST:

Sparkling Wines
Pierre Sparr Cremant de'Alsace N.V.
Drappier "Grand Sendrée" 1989

White Wines by Glass
Au Bon Climat Chardonnay 1997 Santa Barbara
Adelsheim Pinot Gris 1997 Willamette Valley

White Wine
Ponzi Chardonnay "Clonal Selection" 1997
Sokol-Blosser Evolution #9 White N.V.

Western White Wine
Woodward Canyon Chardonnay Columbia Valley,
1997
L'Ecole 41 Semillon "Barrel Fermented" 1997

French White Wine
Dagueneu Pouilly Fume "En Chailloux" 1997 Loire
Brocard chablis 1er Cru "Beauregard" 1996 Burgundy

Red Wines
Benziger Merlot 1997 Sonoma
Cameron Pinot Noir N.V. Willamette Valley
Ridge Zinfandel "Coast Range" Field Blend
1997 Sonoma

Red Wines
Adelsheim Pinot Noir "Ridgecrest" 1996
Foris Pinot Noir "Maple Ranch" 1995

Western Red Wine
DeLille "Harrison Hill" 1995
Canoe Ridge Merlot 1996

California Red Wine
Altamura Cabernet Sauvignon 1995 Napa
Hess Collection Cabernet Sauvignon 1995 Napa

French Red Wine
Vincent Giradin Santenay "Gravieres" 1er Cru
1996 Burgundy
St. Jean Bebian Cotes de Languedoc 1995 Provence

Italian Red Wine
Paneretta Chianti Classico "Riserva" 1995 Tuscany

"We have many more in the cellar, some single bottle examples in the city. Would you care to sit?" Martin said with a hopeful tone.

*****

Gal watched the woman from her show kitchen, pictures in her mind flashing by. Sibling had an entire collection of photos, villain groups and how to identify them, that Gal would look through on occassion. She had never seen a Carnie in person, but she did know that none of them dressed in these colors. The mask was all wrong as well, she had seen heroes dressed like Skulls and Hellions before, her best friend was a Troll for goodness sake.

Interest, that was certainly an emotion she felt.

"Vegas, please find out that woman's name." Her hearing was not great, and she saw Martin in discussion with her, but could not hear over the distance and noise. The other woman nodded, casually walking around the room toward Martin.

((OOC: Welcome Dollhouse! Zo, ve meet again? (In a French accent with a sneer and followed by a ho-ho-ho!) Martin would warm to anyone that asks for a wine, it seems so rare, and cultured. No action in Gal's Place, though I understand your character's worry, so she is safe. Vegas is security and other things, but as well mannered as they come, and Gypsy will envy your outfit!))

((OOC: OK, Gal's has closed for that evening, make your way to the doors as you like. Hey, a girl needs her sleep, too. If anyone has been frightened away by particular conversations, please don't be put off. I try to make every character that visits my focus, but play off each other!

Thang has indicated he will be indisposed for a little bit, so Isis should not think we are ignoring her. Hand of Ma'at, I relish your return, D Ceet and Basilisk, there is plenty more liquor for your thirst. Gladius, nice characters! If I did not mention you, it's not because I forgot, I'm just an insensitive clod. Sorry

Gal's is open again, It's Friday in RP, and Martin has extra starch in his boxers.))

"Lady Tre, Sister of the Order, Guard of the Nine, Daughter of Lady Almira and Mistress of the Storm." Lady Tre gave her full title and history.

"Can you be certain they were not gods? One who holds life or death in their palm, even one who has no magick or strength, can end another's life, or preserve it. Who you answer to, can you be certain they answer to no one? Even the faithless believe in something." She made a slight bow, her opinion said.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Diva was chewing the last of breakfast, seated on the bed Sibling had used for a few precious hours. Her feet touched the ground, the twins had needed to almost jump to get into the Troll-sized bed.

“Think it’s going to work? No,” Sibling honestly answered. “Hope it will, need it to? Yes. You know D’, if it were just us, we could live on the land for years. You know the environment and we both have survival skills, but that would leave a lot of questions that this village would have to answer for. You could probably blend in, and we would just stay out of sight.” Diva nodded, it was good to be back among people like her.

“But, these other humans…something just isn’t right here. You had mentioned that there were powered people among your family, and other races.” The tall woman nodded again, “and we haven’t seen evidence of one in the open. It just isn’t right.”

“Well, Ekanga said that the Council will be meeting about an hour from now, but he doesn’t know when, or even if, anyone will be coming from the main city. Malthu says that they hold the power. Like I said before, it looks very much like feudal rule. All the surrounding cities and villages answer to the rulers in the city, and they have enforcers that travel, looking in on the people. Several times a year, they bring certain officials that test for powers in the young. Positive results mean the young citizen is taken to the city, and they don’t return for a long time, and then only as enforcers.”

“Luckily, we do look like these humans. We aren’t worried about convincing the Council, as long as they are all in the same room. The problem will be with the people we can’t see. If one of these representatives comes from the city, who knows what they will be like? Another worry is this elf, if he isn’t in league with the humans we would be surprised.”

Diva had felt it too, but the twins were certain: the elf on the Council was after power, greedy for it. The plan called for Diva to do the talking, able to maintain a rapport with Sibling through their mental link. Since there was no way for Sibling to become even passable in the language so quickly, convincing these people that the small controller was a native would have been impossible. If Diva stayed close enough, the twins could at least understand the conversation and could use simple phrases for affirmative or negative. Being able to speak a language instantly just because you were exposed to a mind that could was a fiction, so far as Sibling had ever seen.

So, Diva was their front, and would pose as a vassal while Sibling was the poorly tempered upper level. Questions that were asked would be answered by the vassal, Sibling being far too important to converse with the underlings in a rural city government. This seemed, at least to what Ekanga had said, to be the usual way of things. When the high officials arrived during their visits, they only spoke to the Council or the Chief and otherwise had intermediaries with them.

“They are coming,” Ekanga still had guards on the two, and he motioned for them to come within hearing distance. The discussions last night had meant Sibling was required to stay in the prison, and Diva had bridged the two as an interpreter. The guards were trusted, but had no protection against any mind powers, if that should come up.

Malthu, Tasmiran and the elf, who had been introduced as Wilthey, were seated at a high dais when Ekanga led them into the chamber. High-roofed, supported by exposed beams obviously hand-crafted, the circular chamber had several doors around the periphery. The door they entered through came out into the center, four levels of seats arranged on platforms around the outer wall, something like an amphitheatre. The seats were all empty now, save the three for the leaders, but matters could have been discussed here with more than a hundred seated.

The dwarf was already speaking loudly to Malthu and banging on a wooden pedestal that stood to the right of each chair. Some papers flew off the stand and floated to the floor, where the female retrieved them without even breaking her tirade. Sibling immediately felt the elf’s gaze, malevolent and steady. Then they realized what made them unsettled.

*He tried to read our mind!* Came the silent thought from Cliff. *He has a pitiful talent, even Gal has more psi than he does, but he tried!* Angela had known as well, reading a mind controller was risky at best, without their permission and it could leave the aggressor a vegetable with the wrong person.

*No way to tell Diva, not with this sort of scrutiny. He can’t even sense our surface thoughts, so I doubt he can see Diva either.* Angela agreed, but there were ways to find out more about this elf, ways he would not even suspect.

“Who are you?” The elf had a perplexed look, which quickly became wary. No more of his smugness, now he was worried and planning what to do next.

“I address this Council on behalf of my Mistress,” the order of things and basic structure an early discussion last night with Malthu and Ekanga. It drew a narrowing of the eyes in Wilthey and an oath from Tasmirin.

“Who is your Mistress? This human?” The dwarf barked.

“Even so, esteemed Lady.” Diva knew the dwarf would be the most vocal, even before Malthu had informed her the evening before. Malthu had recounted that one of her own children had been carted off for training because of talents. “But we are not from this land, and do not know the rulers. My Mistress and I are on our way to the City, to speak there on a matter.”

“And you travel alone, the two of you? Where is the rest of your party?” The elf’s sing-song voice was soothing, likely part of his gift, and both the Sisters inwardly smiled at his attempt.

“I would ask what has become of your story of yesterday?” Malthu leaned forward, asking the most pointed question. “And does your Mistress not speak for herself?”

Diva considered a moment, Malthu was canny and the last had not been part of their discussion. Maybe he had doubts about this story as it was, and was using this platform to answer them. She heard Ekanga shift behind her, but could not look, even the pause was dangerous, the appearance of having to think of an answer for a simple question. A slight rustle in her mind and Angela’s voice in her ears.

“Who here is a Lord?” There was Cliff’s attitude mixed with Angela’s tone. Even that had been barely the proper words, but certainly lordly enough, and conveyed with no little disdain. Maybe Cliff had his uses, too. The dwarf said not a word, no explosion and no comment, when she believed this person might be someone to be feared.

The words came not from Diva’s mind, but from the elf’s. For even a weak talent, he had very little in the way of defenses, and from the way Sibling could read his thoughts, he was conditioned not to notice. That meant he regularly had contact with more powerful psi’s, that meant they existed here and with an unsettling feeling, Sibling realized it meant that some spies might not be willing, just insensitive to the intrusion.

“My Mistress asks you, who is worth her speech?” Diva was quick, she prayed that Sibling would not try that again. “She would speak to someone of her rank, and we intend to when we reach the City.”

The questions after were definitely less hostile. Sibling’s short sentence had the intended effect, the Council now thought this was not only a human but a ruler or family of one. Their story of trekking to the Capitol for their own business held well, buts of what Ekanga had told her being fitted with the story to make it believable.

“And someone of her status travels with only ONE guard?” Wilthey smirked, still trying to see how to turn this to his advantage. He was trying to figure out how to ingratiate himself with Sibling, the twins realized with disgust.

“When have you known a human to travel without a Talent? One of her family would not set foot beyond her gates without one, and a female to attend to her needs. We travel in a small party for safety and speed, not to draw attention.”

“Where then, good Troll Guard, are your supplies and traveling things? The scientists tell us that you were found in a clearing, alone and with only what you wear, which is odd enough. Did you intend to make your journey to the Capitol in one day? It is over three days from here, not counting the trek from wherever you came.” The facts were not good for them, but they had considered many things.

“We would have arrived in short order if you had not placed a person of a royal house in your jail!” Diva puffed up, and was considerable even when quiet-toned.

The look the Council gave was disbelieving. Malthu was playing very well, Tasmirin’s expression of outright hostility had yet to change, and the elf went from calculating to sneer.

A loud exclamation outside the chamber paused all conversation. The guards shifted, one walking quickly to the doors. Another elven clerk rushed in, almost throwing the guard to the floor in his rush.

“A human, from the City, waits outside! He says he will see these two,” indicating Diva and Sibling, “and will not wait. He has several enforcers with him.” The clerk looked to Wilthey, who nodded as though this was not unexpected.

“Show him in, immediately.” The calculating look grew dark, one thin finger rested at his temple and his chin in his palm. The face of a cat upon a bird.

"Then let's go, don't want to be a reminder that Gal let me out early." She put her jacket on, it was still cool in the nights here in Paragon. She checked to see that her keys were in her purse, and her wallet.

"I saw you showing Gertrude the marks on your arms, were you asking her about them? Her ex-husband has some, too. Big, ugly yellow things. Gal told me about them, something about him being in trouble or something, and I know Lady Gemini has it in for him." She wasn't really paying attention to Manion's face, for whatever reaction might be there.

"I know a place that might still be open, on the way. They make great malts." Beth waved to Narshawn on the way out.

"There was no insult intended...Sparx," Tre spoke with respect, not demeaning, simply unsure of this creature. "I did not intend to imply you were simple or unaware, only that I do not understand complex devices as well as some would.

"More to your very direct question, we believe there is peace. Our faith teaches that all creatures begin the same, that each has a spirit which is sacred. When the time for that shell has ended, the spirit is placed in judgement and what knowledge it has acquired is tested. A question is asked, and if answered, the spirit may sit beside The Lady in peace." She looked slightly uneasy, being so analytical was not easy, there was so much more to the belief and faith. The Order was not a simple rule, there were entire buildings full of their beliefs written.

"If the answer is not given, then the spirit returns to this world to learn. Those called prophets, geniuses and that have created peace among nations or fed the starving masses are near to their peace. Those who wage war for gain, who defile our world for gold, they are far from their reward.

"Perhaps other Sisters see this differently, or could explain in other ways, but this is our belief. Knowledge is all, wisdom and peace are our way."

She was still curious about this being, another tenet being that Sisters do not judge others. "Pardon me for asking a delicate question, and you may refuse with no offense. Are you alive?"

((OOC: Tre asks a question that defines a part of their religion. That which lives is sacred, even to the plants and fish they eat.))

Candice carried out the meal, being slow as usual.

"Sorry about that, all the kitchen's fault." She brought the platter over. "Hey, Beth said that there were two of you. Is your friend coming back or...?" She strung the last word out, hoping that whoever had ordered was still interested.

"Oh, and do you need a refill?" She motioned to the empty glass.

Gertrude walked throught the kitchens, in the door at the bar, and shortly after through the one facing the dining room. Beth was seeing to a table where an android had just risen and walked to the Sisters. The bar waitress cruised around a moment, until Beth was on her way, then caught up to her quickly. Manion could see they spoke a moment, Gertrude pointing to his table and Beth nodding.

The next stop for Gertrude was Gal, Beth walked to the kitchens and in the door. Gertrude waited a moment, Gal was bent and hugging a young girl in blue, then she spoke to the tall woman. More head nodding, and a sweeping gesture from Gal.

A minute later, Beth emerged from the kitchen, carrying a jacket and her purse. She waved to Gal, acknowledged by a pushing motion, and then quickly headed to Manion's table.

"Hey, what did you say to Gertrude? She told me to leave early, and not come back without you," she laughed. "So, Gal's closing up, I saw Martin grabbing the keys in back. If you want some dessert, you better get it now."

((OOC: Attention, Attention. Gal's will be closing this afternoon for the evening. Same as last time, the doors close, you can keep up your conversations as you like, but assume the place closes and opens at the same time in real life. Lets some start an adventure but makes time flow. I hope I haven't scared off anyone, it's getting slim in the bar!))

She passed across the paper tab, one she kept in her apron and ran as the patron asked. It made sure nothing got forgotten, and was a receipt at the same time. Gal didn't care for computers.

"The rest might lose your bill, but not me. I got kids to feed." She winked at him, "Oh, and couseling is an extra ten percent on the top."

Her laugh told him she was joking.

"You sound nice, always a minute too late for the nice guys." Her lower lip formed a pout, but her eyes told Manion it was for show. "I know you and Beth, well, you walked her home." No more than that, she wasn't rude.

"I'd tell you the whole story, but it wouldn't take five minutes. Makes me feel better to know there are heroes watching out for girls like Beth. Make sure she doesn't go down the same road I did."

She sighed, feeling better, a little and patted Manion's hand on the table. "She doesn't know, best if it stays that way. Gal's gonna close the doors soon, I'll tell Beth to get her jacket. I can clean for her tonight, have to wait for Gemini anyway. You don't cross that woman."

((OOC: Manion, she'll tell her tale, but it will take time. Somehow I will pry your story out, too.))

Gal was greeting several of the Sisters, some of the younger one's standing around her, a little awe in their eyes.

"Lady Waspe, Lady Thorn," she bowed properly, greeting those of rank. "The accomodations and food are acceptable?"

"Child," Thorn said, "You have done very well. You have a beautiful place, and my tables seem to be holding up well."

"You are very kind." Gal's choice of words and speech changed noticeably among these women. "The Lady sends her greetings and wishes."

"How is your partner, and your's Mistress?" Thorn directed the question to Gal and Bubbles.

"The Lady says they are well, but have been in an accident. She understands time and distance, some a' what she told us," she shook her head somewhat sadly, "I don' claim to understand. She says they are on another world, and that they have a purpose there."

"She would not have spoken to you if she did not know these things. Now, sit. Miss Falcon and Lupa were just discussing a possible visit to the Island."

Gal's eyebrows rose.

"Now, don't feel sorry for me," she had her chin out, some red around her eyes. "I shouldn't have talked to Gemini so close. When I said it wasn't your business, I just meant you probably got better things to do than listen to some sob story about me.

"Short of it is, my old man used to beat me. I got two kids, and he makes fair money, better than I could. Hard to move when you can't put food in your kid's mouths. Miss Jing," her voice softened, "she knew, somehow, what was up. Never seen her before, then she shows up while Mike was at the bar, gets me and the kids out. Now I'm here." Her voice was quiet, talking about it made her feel somewhat better, but troubling some hero over it...he had better things to do.

"A soul," she started, "we believe that every living thing has a spirit, that every thing in nature is equal. Whether bird or deer, we all begin the same. I would suppose that having a soul is the same."

She looked several times at the other Sisters, but paid attention to this person, or machine, she had not decided.

"But you were built, you say. I do not understand these things. Simple machines, yes. Computers and the like, they are not my skill." She was curious. "You have no blood, no heart? Is your skin metal?"

((OOC: I understand his attention, I was trying to get it! ))

Gertrude pulled her sleeves down, buttoning them, even though this was uncomfortable.

"I think Gemini will have plenty to say, she thinks she owes me for something. Since Miss Jing got me out of the house, I've been staying at her shelter. She takes care of lots of mothers and their kids, battered women, you know. Should have left that ba***rd before. It isn;t easy for a woman." She stopped abruptly, realizing this was just some customer.

"Uh, sorry, not your business." She quickly gathered the remnants of the tray. "I'll be back in a bit, check on you."

She was very obviously nervous, a maybe a little ashamed that Manion had overheard. Hurrying out of the pool room, she barely paused before going into the kitchens.

((OOC: She will tell Manion what it's about, but probably need a little time. Gemini has a way of hitting right at the heart of a matter. Thank you for the offer, Manion, she'll be back, and Beth knows nothing of Gertrude's plight.))

Tre turned from welcoming Gal, looking at the apparently mechanical man. She looked him up and down, not something she often dealt with.

"I am sorry... Sparx," the name seemed to come slowly, no salutation or prefix, no mister requested. "What would you know?"

((OOC: The Sisters rarely deal with non-organic people, and it will throw several off their stride. Tre especially will be unsure how to address him, or whether he understands the Sisters' values, being mechanical. I will play them that way, but don't take it as being put off, just the way a totally natural society that reveres life would react. Plus, the Sisters are somewhat Luddite in their beliefs, that machines are not necessarily better.))

"I'm better than I have been," Gertrude cleared up a couple bottles. She was turning to go when a shadow crossed the door, as silent as that.

"Good evening, Gertrude Parras. Did you not see me?" A woman in green, a half mask draped over her lower face, blocked the woman's exit.

"Oh! Miss Gemini," the waitress was startled, almost dropping the tray. The back of Gemini's hand shot out, very fast, and balanced the bottles and tray. Gertrude looked awkward for a moment.

"No, I saw you, but...you looked busy." She distractedly brushed at her hair again, trying to avoid meeting Gemini's eyes. The scar crept out of her sleeve, catching the other woman's attention.

"I am never so busy," one delicate hand stretched out, taking hold of Gertrude's arm. "What is this?" The scar was several weeks old from the look of it, well tended and stitched, but ugly in length.

"Nothing, nothing at all." She tried to prise the arm away, but Gemini's hand was like a gentle vise. She looked at the floor, ashamed.

"Look at me and say this. No, I did not think so. To me tell the getting of this." Anyone looking would have noticed that Gemini's face was not surprised, as though she knew about the scar.

"Miss Jing knows about it all," she whispered, stepping closer. "She helped me get out of the house, I've been staying at her shelter." There was a tremble in the woman's voice, fresh pain, but she had a strong shell.

"I will speak to her, then this was your man's doing?" Steel across stone, fire flashed from the scrapper's eyes.

"Yes, Miss Gemini," her voice was barely audible. "You have watched over me before, you always seem to be there, but we have laws. He will not hurt me again, Miss Jing is getting me help. I am safe, truly." Her eyes pleaded with Gemini, she was afraid, but like many battered women, could not see the truth about him, even now.

"Yes, you are. This I swear. I will walk you to MIss Jing's shelter, this night. We will talk. Wait for me." She bowed, looking at Manion with an aprising glance, and touched her forehead in respect. "Be well." Then she walked back to the gathering, the katana at her back moving with her walk.

Gertrude turned to Manion, "Some people only talk about a guardian angel." Her smile was thin, but in place.

((OOC: Gemini had no anger in her eyes at you Manion, she just sizes up everything in a room by habit.))