"Tell ya what," he said, continuing his conversation, "if Martin won't give you a break til your off the clock, that'll be ok. I've been itching to try out the pool tables you guys have in the back anyway."
He stopped for a moment. Remembering the look on Beth's face when he had gone to the bar the last time.
"But... I'll wait til you talk to him. I'm not trying to blow you off, honest. It'll just give me something to pass the time til you're off."
He suddenly had second thoughts about this idea. The little bits of conversation he got when she stopped by to check on him were enjoyable. Although he did feel that maybe he was being too much of a distraction.
Well, Martin hadn't given an answer either way, and the question was already out there.
"The invitation is made, you are free to visit when you like." Lady Tre sat with one elbow on the table, the other arm laid before her, idly swirling the last of her juice in the glass. "You cannot reach the Island alone, only a Sister can do that, and phones or radios do not function across the barrier. When you feel the time is right, you have only to come to the docks, near the Ferry, in Talos. The Ferrymaster knows how to contact us, Lady Beatrix helped guard the ferry during the War and we have an agreement."
"That or find any Sister," Waspe added, "By this time tomorrow, your face and name will be known. They can guide you to the dock. From there, one of the Mariners will be able to take you to the Island. One word of caution, before any problem might arise: nothing which lives upon the island should be harmed. I don't think you would, you seem a very steady woman, but you should know."
The woman called Lupa watched Falcon through slightly narrowed eyes, slitted pupils widening and contracting in turns. It might have been concentration, or curiosity, her mixture of human and animal traits sometimes confusing. One of the youths from the other table stood, drawing the attention of the Guard.
The girl, perhaps fourteen, in blue walked to Lupa's side and spoke in low tones to her, and not in English. The soft, almost melodic language was old and sacred, and one of the first lessons all Sisters learned. Lupa nodded, head to one side and ears twitching. More of the young stood and they walked back toward the entrance.
Martin turned, one eyebrow arched, but they passed him. The door to the restroom was their destination.
"Some things, no amount of training can cure." She made a very human shrug, suppressed laughs circled the table. "Now, you Miss Falcon, if you come to our home, we will run. We are all busy, never time to fight all crime, but come and spend days. I will show you the wilds like no one has seen in a thousand years." Her eyes sparkled at the thought, one of her lessons to the young was survival in the wilderness.
"This is true," Sharon spoke, still near Lupa. "There are trees and fields older than that, even older than when Cinque's people covered all this land. Their like does not exist anywhere else, not anymore, and none could show it to you like Lupa."
Osmella pointed to Hand, who had seemed deep in thought, "You should come, too, Hand of Ma'at. We have a library that is the envy of MAGI, and we have received requests from the High Priests of Circle of Thorns even to view some texts." She made a waggling with her fingers. "We had to arrest the fiends when we found them treading water and besieged by a peculiar species of shark several hundred yards from our shores. Now that should have been in The Times," her smile was as wide as could be. "Do you think Eskarn has recovered from his wounds, Lady Gemini?"
"This I doubt, they cannot regenerate, or cast spells, without the missing limb." There was genuine satisfaction in the Asian woman's voice. "And I still have that, in my cottage." It could be certain her smile was there, hidden as it was.
Lady Thorn made a soft moan and placed her head in her hand, shaking it slowly, a subtle grin showing.
"Gemini, Gemini," she mumbled.
The exchange was friendly, banter between many friends. The offer of the library was sincere, some texts being off-limits except to the highest scholars, but their collection was varied and deep.
"You're so sweet," she blushed. He was really going to wait all the way until she got off work. "Narshawn has all the things for playing, just ask."
She gathered the empty plates and glasses, having staked out her territory with the other staff early. If she could get some time, maybe she would bring him the dessert in the Pool Room, where she could have relative privacy from Martin.
"I didn't ask before, do you want something else to drink?"
Thank you again, Narshawn, replied Magnus. He could feel his eyelids drooping a bit from his hard beverages, but his mind was still racing from sharing his story.
Unable to get my grandmother to open her bedroom door, I stormed out of the house, not knowing where to go, or what to do. I ran blindly into the night, filled with an anxiety Id never felt before. He sniffed and rubbed his red eyes a bit. I found myself in the Hollows, and just started fighting every troll, Hellion, or Outcast that I could find. I ended up at the hospital many times, but just raced back to the Red River or Eastgate, not caring what happened to me.
After almost twenty four hours of continuous fighting, I just collapsed on a park bench, exhausted in body and spirit. If you think my face is a mess now, you should have seen me five days ago. He chuckled without humor. I remember a police officer waking me up, asking why I wasnt home resting. At mention of the word 'home', pain of my grandmothers rejection hit me with renewed strength. I rushed back home to see if lola had finally opened the door.
Magnus drained his third glass of liquor. Her bedroom door was still locked. I kept knocking and pleading with her to open up, but there was only silence. But unlike before
I couldnt hear her shuffling about, or the television, or her crying. There was slight slur to the young mans speech. I became really worried, and I was somehow able to break the door down. She was sleeping on her bed, and I rushed to her side, saying Lola! Lola! Im back home now. Are you all right? Lets talk, okay?
Magnus winced and rubbed his forehead. But she didnt hear me. She couldnt hear anything. The blue-haired hero looked straight into his empty glass and spoke in a hoarse whisper. My grandmother was dead.
"Im so sweet? Thank you for saying so, but you say that like you're worried I might change my mind. Why?" He looked at her, asking with his eyes as much as his voice. It never occured to him how insecure she might be.
"Umm, no the water is fine tonight, I'll have more of the same." he said as she cleared the table.
((OOC: If Beth chooses to answer him, Manion will wait and respond appropriately before heading to the pool room.))
Still a little puzzled over the conversation, Manion went up to the bar and asked Narshawn for a set of billiard balls. He nodded a hello to the people at the bar, not wanting to interupt their conversations.
He set the balls on a table, one towards the back near the juke box. He went back to the box to put on a few songs, flipping to the "S" albums again. "I'll be darned... Savoy Brown." he said out loud as he put his money in. "Train to Nowhere" kicked in as he set up the balls for a game of Nine Ball.
He went to the wall and chose a cue, 21 oz. He rolled it on the table. He knew it would be straight, but did it anyway. He chalked the tip, and cue in left hand, lined up his break.
((OOC: Sorry if this seems a bit much detail-wise. Felt like I should add a little meat since my last bunch of posts have been skimpy. Plus... I love me some pool. 
))
Narshawn floated back over, a very similar bottle in her hand, the only difference from the first a rubber band inconspicuously wrapped around the neck. She filled his glass again with the liquid, listening while he told his tale. Gal had been a bartender for many years, and some tricks she had made certain the tiny blaster knew.
She listened, waiting for him to show some sign he wanted an answer or comment. Sometimes it was better to just listen, let things run their course and keep your mouth shut. She had an idea what she would say, but held it for a break in his story.
Alcohol is a depressant, she knew, even if she could not drink it. Someone in such shape, drinking, and possibly powered; she was not anxious to see what sort of powers he had. He wanted to talk, to get this off his soul. She listened. At least he would not get more inebriated, not from that bottle.
((OOC: The bottle contains a plant extract and the same liquor, the odor and texture will be the same. What will not be the same is that the extract bonds to the molecular structure of the liquor, making it almost impossible to digest. It's a wonderful alternative to cutting someone off, and would only be used if she saw a possible problem. I understand the idea that Magnus is able to discuss this because he is becoming drunk, and am ok with that. Magnus is still in charge of the character, if he notices and becomes angry, Narshawn will apologize, indicating some mistake.
If he continues to tell his story, which I really hope, they can have a good discussion with no breakage of delicate objects. That would necessitate Vegas getting involved. This is well done, I hope you continue to post here ))
((OOC: Detail is RP, the more the better!))
There was some commotion in the bar, bottles and glasses coming together. The swinging kitchen doors opened and closed, then opened again as Gertude walked out. She saw Manion in the room and made her way past the tables, asking if anyone needed anything along the way.
"Evening," the brunette said, coming into the pool room and picking up some mostly empty snack bowls. "I think I've seen you in here before, but I'm Gertrude, and I take care of whatever you need from the Bar." There was a certain way she said this that added more than just the words.
"Playing pool alone? Shame..." She let that hang a moment, one hip kicked out to the side. "Now, is there anything you'd like right now?"
((OOC: remember, Gertrude is a flirt because tips are what makes the money. She would treat any man the same, but this will mean some interesting conversation, not picking on you Manion. 
))
"The Ferrymaster in Talos. Got it."
Falcon Kitiara nodded toward Waspe "If nothing is to be harmed, nothing will be harmed."
Her emerald eyes shone in anticipation, thoughts already flying to the wild woods and their sets of natural wonders.
"If I have understood right, you don't eat of anything walking the earth; do you have cattle or poultry on your island, for milk, cheese and eggs? Or do you only eat what grows from the soil and swims in the sea?" she asked again, her tone interested in the answer but relaxed too: it had been and still was a pleasant evening. Pleasant people to talk to, something to learn, and an interesting conversation too. The warrior slightly rubbed her winged headpiece, to check with the hidden wound on the forehead. It was still throbbing, although less painfully than before; she was rather sure it had stopped bleeding.
"It will be a real pleasure to run with you, Lupa; as soon as the fight against crime is going to give me a short pause, I will be glad to come and visit for a few days."
Her tone became firm: "However, I do want to do something for you, in turn, to repay you for your kind invite. I insist - just tell me what and it shall be done."
[OOC she trusts the Sisters, and believes that they would never ask her something dishonorable or improper. Of course, if they insist in turn that no favour is needed, she won't press the issue to avoid being impolite, but it would make her happy to contribute actively to the little community's wellbeing. 
]
"Hi Gertrude. Yep I was here opening night. Manion." he said, offering his hand in greeting.
"A shame? Now why would you say that? Actually I'm killing time til Beth gets off work."
"Besides, anyone else would probably run circles around me on the table. I like getting a shot in every now and then." he said jokingly.
"Hmm... I dunno actually. I've been drinking water and I just ate, so the beer might be a bit much, but something with a little flavor would be nice." he said with a shrug and a smile.
((OOC: Yeah the flirting thing, I remember. If she starts laying it on thick he might get fidgety, but if she keeps it light it may go right over his head. Such a touchy balance. I'm all for intersting conversation though. ))
"Lady Almira says she would happily try to heal that wound," Tre said aside, not quite looking at Falcon in case she would refuse. "Empaths, you know."
"Cattle are rather inefficent," Lady Osmella said, as though Tre had never spoken, "for what they eat, they tend to return little. Our Island is not that large, to graze cattle for all the Sisters. Goats, now there are creatures blessed by nature. They are able to eat almost anything, healthy and produce five times the cheese and milk per pound a cow does." She sounded positively happy, rising to the subject.
"Very intelligent as well. We do not raise any animal as a herd, but the goats roam, keep down certain areas and come for milking. We consider it symbiosis. I raise the goats, care for them and teach the young about them, and living in harmony. Another of the Sisters cares for the chickens, which we also use for eggs. No animal meat that walks the ground, that is our way."
"But the fish, they are tasty," a somewhat disconcerting smile formed on Lupa's face. She raised one hand and inch long claws folded out from her palm, one per finger. She winked at Falcon, meaning a joke.
"A boon, you ask us to request a boon of you?" Thorn was watching interestedly, stroking a chin with one or two white hairs. She had long ago stopped worrying about being beautiful, now she was 'Granmother'. "I have one I would request..."
((OOC: Have to leave that hanging, Falcon, but will finish it later . I Love this thread.))
(OOC: I was reading the history of men in LoL. Am I picking up a reference to King Arthur or something? I'm thinking of switching over to Legion's POV)
"Now, those specials sound appetizing," I said, "I'll just have some scotch. If you have any soft drinks, my friend will probably want a Mountain Dew. I'll probably have the goulasch. "
"And I," Snap piped in, "Will have the same as him. I'll also have some scotch if there aren't any soft drinks. Do you have a preference to dip, Sparx?"
"What do you think?" I asked sarcastically. The implication was kind of obvious.
"Right," he said, embarrassed, "No dip."
I found it surprising that no one asked about me. How often do robots come into restaurants, anyway?
After the waitress got our orders down and left, Paravespula and I decided just to look around for a moment. Neither of us were good at talking to the other.
"So," he began, "Did you know that Emily from Accounting is getting married again?"
I was surprised to say the least, "Really, no one told me."
"Well," Snap responded casually, "You didn't leave the best impression on her son, and he's the ringbearer. Do you think she wants you at the wedding or reception?"
"Ah," I said in understanding, "Well, okay, I can see that. I did go a bit ballistic on the five year old."
"Hey, don't feel alone" he said, annoyed, "I didn't get invited either."
"Well, that's because you practically ate her wooden crib. She had that crib since she was a child."
As Snap glew a new shade of red, I couldn't help but feel guilty. He was, perhaps, the only one I met on a day-to-day basis who treated me as a person and not a machine. Yet, the two of us were constantly at odds. At least with Fulmino, we had someone we could team up against. I never understood why we infuriated each other.
Our attention was diverted by the large congregation of women. Perhaps it was just the lack of something better to talk about, but we began to wonder what was going on.
"Well," I began, "They look like they're some kind of relgious group."
"Heh," Snap said, changing the subject, "I notice you always say 'religious group' instead of saying 'cult' or something else."
"Do you think they're a cult," I asked in annoyance.
"I wouldn't know," he said, "I'm just saying that you never say 'cult.' You've never even called the Circle of Thorns a cult. Why?"
"Well," I said in earnest, "I just don't think it's my place to judge religion."
"Why's that?"
To be truthful, I was surprised. He hardly ever asked me questions like that.
"Well, you humans speak of having a soul given to you by some deity or another. Seeing as how I'm a creation of man, I'm not really sure I have one. If I'm not even sure of that, than what right do I have to judge any religion."
"You know," Snap said, half-pleased, "You've got a point there."
Snap decided not to pursue the topic any further, and I was all the happier for it. We just kind of stared at the group in silence.
"Don't you have an interest in theology?" Snap asked me from out of the blue.
"Yeah," I said, "Just because I don't have a position on religion, doesn't mean I can't take an interest in it. Why do you ask?"
"Why don't you go talk to them?" Snap suggested, "You might learn something."
<What the hell?> I thought to myself* <Is he trying to be rid of me?>
"What's going on?" I asked in suspicion.
"Nothing," he responded, "I just thought it'd be a fun experience for you. Get a view of things from another perspective."
I was silent for a moment, mulling it over. It would be an interesting experience, but still...
"I don't know," I said, "I'd be the only male up there."
"Um," Snap began pointing out the obvious, "Technically, you're not male."
"Yeah, but people tend to try to make inhuman things more human. I'm close enough."
"Just give it a try," he said a little forcefully.
"Don't rush me," I said, panicking a bit, "I've never had to be the first to talk to strangers before. People tend to talk to me first."
"Fine," Snap said, "You don't have to go. We'll be getting our drinks soon, anyway."
*(OOC: Just because he can't say a swear, doesn't mean he doesn't think it)
Powersets I'd like to see:
Water or Wind-related powers (not just Storm Summoning)
More Minion-types
Demolitions Blast set (and maybe a Specialty Explosives Buff/Debuff) in tribute to the greatest explosives villain ever, Evil Midnight Bomber
((OOC: You would be on the right track, but properly Uther Pendragon. I stay purposefully vague on that point, but have very specific views. This isn't "my personal religion" board, so mixing and matching is allowed and encouraged.))
"Gentlemen, I believe these are yours?" Beth leaned over the table to place a cork coaster in front of each. She placed the liquors on those. "There is no Dew, but we have several others, Route 66 Brand Cola, Mr. Pibb, Weinhard's Rootbeer, Moxie sodas. Please mind the table, it is alive and growing, and Lady Thorn," she pointed to one of the women in the group, "would be very displeased if it were injured." She smiled, it was the same warning to everyone.
"Your Goulasch will arrive quickly, it is somewhat popular. Enjoy. Is there anything else I can provide now?" Beth was excited, about Manion staying, but it brought out her sparkle.
"Beth," she looked skeptical at first, then disappointed.
"Ah well, can't blame a girl for trying. How about rootbeer or cola?"
((OOC: Maybe someone needs to drop in and play a friendly game?))
"Yeah Beth... I'm walking her home tonight." he smiled and looked towards the restaurant.
"I guess a cola please, thank you." he said. Then he stood up, something seemed to catch his attention. He managed to catch her before she left.
"Wait what? Trying? Did I miss something?"
He didn't think she wanted to shoot pool. She was still working after all. If she wanted to talk, well there really wasn't much trying required there. He wasn't sure what she meant so he took a shot in the dark.
"Do you want to play?"
Yet again, Manion was confused.
((OOC: Please forgive the poor guy. He isnt trying to be frustrating. Also, if anyone wants to drop in for a game, he would be more than happy to share the table.))
"Miss something..." she grinned, leaning against the side of the table. "I must be getting old." She brushed at her hair with one hand, a movement that was obviously habit. The sleeve of her blouse slid up on her arm, gravity pulling at the material. A dark, jagged line marked her forearm, disappearing under the cotton. She failed to notice that the scar was visible.
"Beth's a nice girl, and I play some pool, but not on duty." Her smile faded slightly. "Cola it is. Route sixty-six is pretty good, small batch, comes in from the West Coast. Be right back."
She stood again, some of the worldly veneer peeling back from her face. For a moment there was only a middle-aged woman with many years of worry and hardship walking past Manion, when she returned, her mask was in place.
"Here you go," she placed the glass on one of the standing tables. "I'll keep cruising through, checking on you."
That wasn't at all what he expected. For a moment the waitress in front of him faded and a weary woman took her place.
He saw her scar, and the way her mood changed, if only for a moment. He knew that people had to hide things to get back to a somewhat normal life after the war. He was doing it too.
Maybe she did want to talk.
He waited until she came back with his drink before he said something. "You're not old. I'm just young. I didn't mean to upset you." He smiled, hoping to make up for his stumble earlier.
He wasn't sure if he should ask about her scar. He didn't want to drag out anything painful. If she wanted an ear, well that he had.
"Thank you for checking on me. I'm ok. How about you?" He figured it was a vague enough question that if she didn't feel like talking she wouldn't have to. But he asked it with a tone that said he was willing to listen if she wanted.
Not wanting to make her feel pressured, he lined up a shot on the three.
"There is something you would have to see, to understand, but it would be an honor." Thorn sat back, enjoying the idea. "You see, Miss Falcon, I dabble in sculpture, nothing very good, and I have little time..."
"Do not let her fool with you," Waspe spoke out, "She is a very good artist."
Thorn waved a hand at the compliment, dismissing it. "Well, I try to do justice to nature. As I was saying, I enjoy sculpting all things natural: trees, animals and people. It is marvelous when the figure comes from the stone, revealing itself.
"I have many figures, and the Sisters will sit for me, but it is rare that someone not of the Order allows it. People are so busy, and it is a lengthy process."
"Pfeh," Beatrix finally spoke again, "It is like sitting for a month. Hold your hand here, hold your face there..."
"I did not notice such complaint when I made your likeness for your garden, Beatrix." Thorn's tone was warning, it was hard to tell how these two got along. Beatrix spoke very little and seemed grouchy when she did.
"Pay her no mind," Tre leaned over to the two visitors. "She is only grumpy when she is not with her precious books, living in a library can make you this way." She smiled to indicate it was all in good fun.
"If you have the time, I would very much like to have a sculpture of you." Thorn ended "And it only takes a few days, not months." There was another 'humph' from Beatrix.
((OOC: I will PM a further conversation to Falcon, with some details of what Thorn is asking. Suffice it to say, these are not ordinary sculptures, and it is Thorn's passion. She is quite good at it. More will come out about these in future posts, so there is logic to this seemingly strange request.))
"Cure me? Yes, please."
Falcon sat nearer to the table and removed her golden winged headpiece, putting it on the table she waited for Lady Almira's touch; on her forehead, right in the middle, there was a big bump with a purple-blackening bruise around it, where the blow had ruptured some blood vessels. A small cut, that wasn't bleeding anymore, rested on top of the bump. An ugly wound.
However, her hair, now free from the metal prison of the battle tiara, revealed itself as very long, almost touching the upper part of her thighs, and some locks descended on her left eye: she shaked her head, almost horse-like, and the locks went back in place.
While she waited for Almira's healing, she listened to the explanation about goats and cattle. On farming, she knew nothing; and she enjoyed learning something new about animals in general.
Thorn's words took her by surprise; a pleasant one. Falcon's eyes widened, and she asked:
"A sculpture of me? I have no experience as a model, but I would be honored to be one for you." she bowed her head slightly, and her wild free locks moved again in front of her eyes. With an impatient gesture, she put them again behind her ears.
[OOC: waiting for your PM with much anticipation! ]
Some of the girls had come back into the hall, the restroom was only designed for three at a time, but they would all stay together. When the last one was finished, the group would return to the tables. It was more training, even though they didn't realize it. The Ladies would keep the groups together, all ages, watching over each other. It made their bonds of family stronger, their instincts to protect everyone and listen when even the youngest spoke.
Almira stood upon hearing Falcon's acceptance. She had known of the wound almost since they entered the building, the ability to feel other's pain could not be easily turned off. She would not, by law, simply force her skills on another unless there was imminent death. Holding both arms at shoulder level, she glanced around the room, black eyes checking if anyone was paying undue attention.
Satisfied that most were simply enjoying dinner, she turned a little of her own energy toward the woman. She knew how it would feel, the energy could be used, to a lesser extent, in an area to heal many.
It started with a cold shock, like jumping into a mountain stream where the sun had thawed snow. For her, there was always a moment of bright light, blocking her view, then a rush of warm air. Performing this on only one would usually heal even terrible wounds, bring others back from the brink, but it was no substitute for rest.
She lowered her arms again, gazing from the depths of her hood at Falcon. She was no skill at mind reading or control, only empathic, but the woman across from her seemed familiar. Her long life had brought her many daughters in the Order, many women that had called her Mother with no blood ties. Some sat around this table, some were on the Island and some were no more. A long life, doing for others. It gave her great pride and hope that women like Falcon existed outside the Order. Beneath her veil, she would have smiled, but could not.
The bouquets of flowers were overwhelmed by the sudden scent of licorice and fresh bread. Soft smiles came to several of the Sisters' faces, and a purr came from the direction of Lupa.
"Mother, it has been too long since I smelled your work," the cat-woman said. "You leave the Island so seldom."
"Better?" Tre asked, glancing at the headpiece. "That is interesting work, why did you choose the winged tiara?" She thought of another who wore a similar piece, Sibling.
Almost on cue, the curtains at the entrance parted and a huge black woman walked through with a much shorter woman, they were speaking to one another. Gal had a small leather bag in one hand, the other woman carried an expensive looking garment bag in pink and blue.
((OOC: Almira wears her full covering for a reason, the smile part intentionally leaves out why she cannot smile. I tried to describe what can only be seen in the game, but there must be some sensory part of that heal-other power.
Gal and Shock Bubble are just returning from the Island, their robes are in their bags.
Hand of Ma'at, they aren't ignoring you, and you can come back in as you like. Not everyone spends every moment watching these boards ))
The Yellow Line tram was busy so John decided to take the long way to Kings Row. He was tired of eating beef jerky and SPAM® under the Prometheus Park bridge in Atlas. Genevieve Sanders had given him a gift certificate to Ladies by the Lake restaurant. A nice "home style restaurant" is how she described it.
Fighting crime was new to John. He had only been in Paragon for a month so finding a place to live was difficult. His uncle had been his only contact here in the states, and the Circle of Thorns took his life as a blood sacrifice. John wasn't even his real name. Jean-Baptiste Abercrombie was his given name in Haiti....Papa Houngan is the name he took as a superhero. He had not encountered anyone else in the city that practiced voudu, or voodoo, as they call it here. There were plenty of others that used magic and spells, but not as Papa did. The loa, or spirits of his ancestors were sometimes willing to grant him temporary power to solve his problems. He spoke with the spirits this evening on his way to the restaurant but his grumbling stomach was the only one willing to give him a reply.
It was late when he arrived. He hoped they were still serving.
"You'll be late for you're own funeral Jean-Baptiste!" he remembered his granpa always scolding him.
He stepped inside...hoping the black suit coat and top hat would not look too out of place with the rest of his attire. He was told by Ms. Sanders that this was a nice restaurant, so he spent a little money at the Hopewell thrift store on the suit and tall top hat. His religion required that he dress traditional when he spoke with the loa, so he wore simple black leather pants with a painted yellow stripe, a red sash, and green arm wrappings. The colors black, red, yellow, and green were symbolic of his African heritage. Most of the time he wore no shoes, but he bought a pair of black slip on loafers. The jacket was buttoned up, but you could obviously tell he had no shirt on underneath. Mystic symbols in white paint were visible on his chest.
He stood in the foyer and hoped to the loa they would not turn him away for looking like a homeless tramp. He held out the voucher and spoke nervously to the maitre d'. "Bonswa...err...Good evening. Madame...Ms. Sanders has given me this coupon for dinner?" he said with a thick Creole accent. "Mwen ta vle manje...I would like to eat."
((OOC: Hope it's ok to get a meal this late Sib. ))
His cheeks moist from tears, Magnus released a deep sigh. His voice was soft, and filled with emotion. My grandmothers body was stiff and cold. She had been dead for at least several hours. I just held her tightly and rocked her back and forth. I cried and cried for
I dont know how long. I cant remember what happened after that. Some neighbors came by and someone called the coroner. I later found out that lola died from a heart attack.
The young man paused and took a large gulp of the fresh drink Narshawn placed in front of him. I broke my grandmothers heart, and thats why she died. She couldn't deal with what I told her; it went against all her beliefs. He wept openly now, unconcerned that some nearby customers glanced or stared at him. Whether out of curiosity or pity, Magnus did not know nor care. He grabbed several napkins off the bar counter and dabbed his tears as he struggled to control himself.
Im sorry for disturbing the other patrons, he said quietly. I guess
the hurt is still too fresh and deep. The saddest part is, the last words she said to me were I did not raise you to be this way. Why do you want to be like this? Are you trying to hurt me? Magnus stifled his last few sobs and finished the last of this drink.
For several long minutes, Magnus just stared ahead in silence, lost in his own thoughts. Narshawn remained a comforting presence, even when she attended other customers.
After drying his tears and regaining his composure, Magnus attempted a tentative smile. His red eyes were puffy but grateful. Narshawn, I want to thank you again for listening. Youve helped me quite a great deal, and
well, youre only the second person Ive told about my
orientation. I still have a lot to deal with. I hope I havent disturbed you or the other patrons of this restaurant too much with my emotional display. He rose from his seat and left a generous amount of money at the bar. I hope to come back here some time, and I'd like to think I'll be in a better mood by that time."
A booming voice came from behind him, somewhere above his top hat.
"Pardon me." Gal was anxious, after her trip to the Island and meeting with The Lady. Bubbles was just coming through the door behind her.
She saw as he turned that he wasn't dressed in coat and tails, which would have struck her as odd for this place, but in a more traditional outfit. It took a moment, the stress aggitating her, but she realized this man was not to blame, and that she had been rude.
She set her bag down and held out one immense hand, towering over him. "I'm sorry, stress. I'm Gal, and this is mah place. Beth, get this man a table. We'll be open late, but you should take a break, a long one, now. The Sisters got some business ta' discuss.
"The coupon covers the Bar and Restaurant, and dessert." She smiled at him.
((OOC: Of course you're welcome Thang, glad to see you back.))
Falcon Kitiara shivered slightly as the unexpected cold rush washed on her skin, then something similar to a warm wind caressed her pale skin; she closed her eyes with a small sigh, smiling, her mouth closed; she opened her eyes only when the pleasant breeze had ceased.
Her forehead had ceased throbbing, and her right hand went to her wound to check with it: the wound was simply vanished. Falcon's skin was smooth again, no bumps or pains at all.
Then the scents wafted to her nostrils, and she couldn't help but sniff deeply to fully perceive the different flavours in it.
"Thank you. It has been... very different from the other cures I have experienced during my fights in Paragon City. This was actually something" she paused, searching for the right word "...alive. Pulsating with life and feelings. Plus the side effects are so nice!"
She took her tiara in her hands and turned it so that the battle tiara faced her.
"I chose this tiara because I am from scandinavia, and there are many legends about vikings and valkyries there I grew up with. So, you see, I decided to use it, both because of my battle name (both a Falcon and the headpiece have raptor wings), and because this kind of tiaras seems to recall Valkyries to people as it did to me."
Kitiara held her hair with her left hand and put her tiara back in its place with the right. It sure was very pleasant not to feel that tugging, pulsating pain anymore. She inhaled deeply, to find out if there were still traces of those inviting scents.
"I hope you decide to visit again, Mister Magnus. You can be certain to always find friends, and understanding here." Narshawn knew he was in pain, but he would deal with it as he knew how. She would be an ear, or sometimes a support to others, but each did as they knew best.
"I would say to you, some actions, some strokes of the brush go unseen, or not understood. Life is a beautiful artwork, you and I are part of it." She ended just that way, and a touch on her forehead. Young, certainly, but old for all her ten years.
"Be well, Do Good."
((OOC: I certainly hope Magnus will return, and I hope that Narshawn could lighten his mind and heart. No judgements, no strings.))
"I can." answered Falcon to Lupa, with a smile. She could perfectly understand, and feel on herself the sensations evoked by, Lupa's words. No running on the asphalt of Skyway city could equate to running in the scandinavian woods, no jukebox music could equate to the singing of birds and the sound of wind through the leaves.
How she wished to go back to her homeland, even for a mere week.
"Maybe one of these days you could show me the forests of your island, Lupa."
She didn't know if there were woods on the Sisters' island, but if there were any, she would've liked to again see a pure forest, without circle of thorns cultists and whose rivers weren't polluted with the Paragon City sewage and monsters.