"Mother," Gypsy said quietly to Narshawn, near the end of the bar, but out of hearing of the large, flaming man. "It will take no more than five minutes there, perhaps several minutes to find the items, and five minutes to return. But, why would you ask me to do this?"
Narshawn's glance said she would not have questioned her mother, when she had still been an apprentice. This was a different feeling, mentoring Gypsy, being the guide for another. It was also difficult since Gypsy was very new to anything outside her previous life, and taking orders had never been part of that.
"Daughter, we swear to provide help to any in need who serve the good, to protect those who cannot protect themselves and to give anything we have simply because others need it." Narshawn was glad of the long nights she had spent with her mother, Lady Gemini, talking about the principles of the Order. Sometimes, "Be well, Do Good" was simply not sufficient explanation.
"When my mother came to The Lady, asking for shelter, it was given and she was protected. When Lady Sibling was found, cold and alone, they were fed and healed. When I was brought to this world, I was treated as a blood child at my mother's bosom, and when you came to us, you were taken in as a lost sister. When the city was in peril, The Order stood between the innocent and the danger, and The Goddess welcomed many to her side.
"Daughter, of all the things you learn, to give to others is the most important. He has asked for help, at this house, and now we will give it. That he is a man has no bearing. So, go and collect the things you think are right, I will make certain there is a skiff waiting for you." Nar watched Gypsy's face, knowing that if anyone would know how to convey the man's emotions to a demoness, that was Gypsy.
"Now, go, I have work to do, and so do you." Narshawn watched Gypsy walk to the door, open it, and then she was gone. She could outrun the tram, and Talos Island was not so far.
The meal proceeded in relative silence. The girl was trying to sift what Janice had told her, being barely a young woman. Janice was quiet because she had said most everything she knew to say, and the two chaperone's simply allowed these two time.
"I have one thing for you, Wadi." Janice's meal was finished, and she had noticed that her plate contained a fine steak, several vegetables and a thick gravy, while the Sister's plates were simple greens and some stewed vegetables on a bed of plain rice. The Sisters all ate with a constrained grace, slowly and deliberately.
"Traditionally, a young woman receives a gift when she reaches puberty. Since the Bedoo are nomadic, they carry everything with them, from their tents to wealth." She placed her hands on the box, cracking open the lid. "Your mother would have given you this, or something like it, when you were this age.
"Women need to have their own wealth, many cannot own anything except what they wear, depending on the interpretation of the law. So, women wear their money, in jewelry and coins on necklaces." The item in the box was heavy, and sparkled in the soft light. Janice pushed the entire box, the work of an old man in Iran when he had been young, towards Wadi.
"Your mother cannot give this to you, but I have told the Sisters that I will always watch out for you. I never break my word, I have watched out for you the best I knew how. You have become much more than your mother would have ever hoped, and seeing you now, she would be proud." Janice's napkin slipped the floor, and she moved to retrieve it, covertly brushing one hand over her eyes. She closed that hand, the green-tinted tears hidden from view.
Crem put down her menu, shooting Jasper a pointed look accentuated by a deep frown. He felt very nervous about the whole situation again, until she spoke.
"There is no gyros on this menu." The frown turned into a childish pout for a moment. He reflexively smiled. She was so cute when she did that, and her reading was coming along enough to recognize that indeed, gyros were not on the menu.
"Crem, you don't have to get gyros every time you eat out. In this kind of place it's actually nice to order something off of the appetizer section first, which is kind of like a little snack to tide you over for the main course. Why don't you look over that first section again and see if something strikes your fancy?"
She disappeared behind the menu again for a moment, then put it down, this time her face lit up with a full grin, unabashedly showing her unusually long canines, which did make her look somewhat evil.
"Porters! They serve Sky Raider Porters here! Oh, Jasper I absolutely have to try that!" she announced, her voice giddy with excitement.
Before he could stop himself he let a chuckle slip. Her frown returned full force. "Well, you're very close," he said, trying desperately not to sound like he was actually correcting her. "It says Portobello Platter. It's fungus," he continued hopefully, reasoning that the description would interest her more than 'mushrooms.'
"I see," she said, dissapointment creeping into her voice. "Well, I guess that's as good as anything to try, but what about the main course?" Her face brightened again. "I'll just have what you're having. That should be easy... What are you having?" One painstakingly shaped eyebrow went up again at the question.
"I'm having the goulasch the waitress suggested," he replied. "I tell ya what, though. You pick something else, and we can share a little. That way you'll get to try a bunch of different stuff."
"Good idea. Then I'll have gyros."
He stopped himsef, this time successfully, from sighing in resignation. "Maybe they have something similar to gyros. We'll ask the waitress when she comes back." Crem started looking uncomfortable with deciphering the menu at that point so he opted to change the subject. "So what was it you were saying about your rehersals being delayed?"
"Oh, yes," she said, obviously happy at the change in topic. "You know Lefty, our drummer. He's gotten himself into some kind of trouble again so we're looking for someone new. You should try out."
"Oh, but I don't know how to play the drums, Crem. How come you didn't put Lefty away youself? You said you knew his day job involved something illegal..."
"None of my contacts asked me to."
The conversation turned into a lively debate over whether gangsters should be arrested just for their affiliation or if a hero should wait to witness actual illegal behavior. He noted that she had come along quite a ways in recognizing subtle shades of gray on the subject, wheras when they first met, she viewed everything in stark black or white. They became so involved that they didn't notice the waitress return.
"No worries, I was only joking." Coldfire says with another forced smile. He obviously has had a rough night. "So you use ice too, huh? I can't do much beyond creating a sword and freezing the ground below me." He says. "Heh, so whats your story?" He asks. "Mine is a sad one, so maybe you can give me a story that isn't."
Gypsy was not even breathing hard, few could match her for outright speed. Once she managed to learn some leaping, she would be an incredibly fast woman getting across town. As luck would have it, the path from the restaurant to the Island involved only one detour for roads. The kitchen was working on the arrangements, as she had instructed them, Vegas and Gal taking care of special details.
"Something like He-rose," the Romanes had lived in Greece almost as long as the Greeks. "We have Fa-la-fell, served with pita bread and tabouli, I think you like that with Hummus. Is made for sharing, like the sandwich you ask for."
She took the order, and nodded at his request for the special. She had heard some of the conversation, and was still learning customs here. In her home, any conversation overheard was for comment.
"The lady speaks well, sometime you need to keep ears to the wind. My people has a saying," she paused, looked down as though in sadness, then back up, "had a saying. A pig can find truffles. Means that some bad can find worse, a little trouble can lead you to treasure, good to know."
Her braid was like a steel rod, even her nod did not cause it to swing. She smiled, predatory but not offensive. Turning, she tried to make eye contact with Crem, enjoyment of meeting in her eyes, then she headed back to the kitchen.
When she arrived, the matters were almost complete. In a few moments, Jasper would be getting a phone call at the desk, and his instructions would be from Gypsy. His reaction might be strange, but she felt that Crem, being a summoned creature, would understand completely.
Beth, like clockwork, stepped up to the table.
"Sir, there is a call for you, someone named Jenny Firkins." She waited for him to follow.
((OOC: Um, it's been a while since the last post, and I don't want this to be a solo thing.))
A man walked through the front door. To the casual observer there was something slightly odd about him. It wasnt the manner in which he dressed. He wore simple black leather pants and boots, a dark blue silk shirt, and sunglasses that hid his eyes. Nor was it the color of his skin, which was similar to white marble, or his long white hair that hung loosely around his shoulders. In this city, an albino was a remote curiosity compared to many of the other beings that lived here. Perhaps it was more of his physique that may give the impression of oddity. He was well muscled, but there where many who were even more muscular then him. There was just something about his features. They might have been considered a little to perfect, but not in the aesthetic way. Aesthetically he might have been considered handsome. A trick of the light suddenly made him appear to be gaunt and his skin to appear washed out. It was almost like looking at a hologram card for a moment.
He stood near the reception podium waiting. He held worn leather bound book with something in silver stenciled on the cover. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case. As some one came forward to assist him he said in a deep and slightly husky voice, Id like the bar. Smoking section please.
((OOC, I'll play. Just not sure on style. ))
Armitage DM/INV/Dark Scrapper Lvl 50
Felonie Energy/Energy/GW Brute Lvl 50
Global ID:Armitage
"But does one ever truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate, and thus defy the tyrannous stars."
[ QUOTE ]
"Sir, there is a call for you, someone named Jenny Firkins." She waited for him to follow.
[/ QUOTE ]
Jasper finished the last bit of the bread he'd been noshing on and washed it down with a sip of the wine, which he could tell was very good, despite him not being a wine kind of guy.
He stood up and excused himself, wondering as he followed the young woman if this was part of the arrangements or if it was an actual call requiring his services as a hero. He hoped it wasn't and immediately scolded himself at the thought. He had taken up the mantle of hero by choice, and being called away from important personal events came with te territory. But still.
He hadn't yet had contact with Ms. Firkins, but he recognized the name from the history texts about Paragon City he'd read as a child long ago, or more accurately far ahead, or... It suddenly clicked that what he knew about Ms. Firkins was that she dealt with trouble caused by the Devouring Earth, an enemy he did not relish facing. A scenario suddenly formed in his mind where he became stunned and Crem, impulsive and headstrong in battle, would in the midst of gleefully taunting the enemy to draw them into her aura, only to find herself without the protection of his forcefields and become overrun by the heinous monsters. He guiltily hoped again that this wasn't a 'business' related call as he reached the podium.
((OOC: hey, got waylaid again 
but I'm still here and having fun participating.))
Armitage looked up and noticed the green man. "Oh, sorry, guess you aren't the wait staff." A part of his mind came alert as he felt the tension in the man before him. He noticed the stiffness usually associated with someone ready to fight. "Hey, you ok? Just remember to breath." Armitage opened the silver cigerette case and took one out. He offered the case to Jasper displaying five hand rolled cigarettes. "Have one if it helps. Don't worry, I get the paper and tobacco from some herblist friends so they are about as natural as you can get them." He chuckled. "Well, not that they aren't bad for your health."
He began tapping his cigarette against the case before placing it to his lips. "Hmm, where's my lighter?" he mummbled around the cigarette. He began searching through his pockets before taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Well, whatever you have going on, good luck."
((OOC During the week I have a reverse schedule from everyone. I work nights and sleep days. I'll mainly post in the evening and the middle of the night.))
Armitage DM/INV/Dark Scrapper Lvl 50
Felonie Energy/Energy/GW Brute Lvl 50
Global ID:Armitage
"But does one ever truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate, and thus defy the tyrannous stars."
[ QUOTE ]
Armitage looked up and noticed the green man. "Oh, sorry, guess you aren't the wait staff." A part of his mind came alert as he felt the tension in the man before him. He noticed the stiffness usually associated with someone ready to fight. "Hey, you ok? Just remember to breath." Armitage opened the silver cigerette case and took one out. He offered the case to Jasper displaying five hand rolled cigarettes. "Have one if it helps. Don't worry, I get the paper and tobacco from some herblist friends so they are about as natural as you can get them." He chuckled. "Well, not that they aren't bad for your health."
[/ QUOTE ]
Jasper accepted the offered cigarette gratefully, figuring he might need it before everything was over with. He hadn't smoked in years, or more accurately, it would be a century or two befor his habit had begun, but he still could identify good tobacco by smell when he happened upon it, and the craving for an occasional smoke never really went away. He gently tucked the cigarette in his breast pocket, in case he decided to indulge later.
He also sensed something else, dark energy, and suddenly realized that he had sensed the same from the waitress. Some would have thought it strange, but proximity to such energy always buoyed his spirits. His mentor in the future had expertise in the manipulation of dark energy, so it always gave him a feeling of warm familiarity.
[ QUOTE ]
He began tapping his cigarette against the case before placing it to his lips. "Hmm, where's my lighter?" he mummbled around the cigarette. He began searching through his pockets before taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Well, whatever you have going on, good luck."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Hey, thanks. I might need it. You know, I think I saw a designated smoking area back towards the bar earlier. Maybe somebody back there could give you a light, too." He smiled, as he was reminded of one of the first missions he had ventured out on after just meeting Crem. Some Hellions were harassing a citizen, thinking to rob them by asking for a light to get them off guard. Crem just walked up behind one of the thugs, politely declaring that she could help the poor fool with a light while bathing him in her aura. He had started running away, but she simply followed him relentlesly, bystanders staring slack jawed as the two of them zig zagged down two full city blocks before the goon finally just surrendered.
"Good luck to you too."
Falcon Kitiara smiled at Steve, and she began her storytelling, quickly licking her lips with the tip of her tongue to moisten them.
"In the days past I was giving chase to a beast called Envoy of Shadows. It is a creature from another dimension, not unlike all the behemoths and behemoth lords that the Circle of Thorns summon to do their bidding. Tall, scaly, horned, and strong. Many powerful heroes have defeated the Envoy, and thwarted the Circle's ambitions, but this time it was my turn to send him back to the pit that spawned him."
"I infiltrated Oranbega for the nth time, searching for clues about the Envoy and its true name: it seems that demons can be controlled or made mortal if their true name is known. What I wasn't expecting... was that the Envoy was there too, probably to negotiate some kind of pact with the Circle. I don't know for sure. I do know, though, that he attacked me as soon as he saw me. I guess I should've run away, but I still needed those clues, and those were... right behind its back."
Falcon's fingers touched lightly the small bandage on her chest, absently: a side effect of her recollecting her memories.
"I thought I could defeat it, or send it running away, so that I could obtain those informations. But as soon as I moved in close combat range, a sickly black aura around the beast began sucking away my strenght. I couldn't dodge its blows, I was feeling weaker and weaker by the second, and --- long story short --- before I realize what has happened, everything goes black. He slashed at me many times with his talons... but those wounds were much faster to heal than this one."
Falcon crossed her fingers together, in a gesture reminding of jaws closing, or prison bars moving.
"When I opened my eyes again, I was inside one of the Circle of Thorns' crystal prisons. It was beautiful, but cold and damp. I had my sword with me - still don't know why they didn't simply take it away - but my feet were chained together. Magical chains, I guess, or cursed ones since they were keeping me severely weakened, unable to try and get free. Every attempt to break off the chains with my sword failed: imagine my frustration."
Following the word frustration, Falcon opened her hands again and lowered them on the table, closing fists again loosely, forearms touching the wood.
"I think a few hour passed, then a big group of Thorn Casters and Behemoth Lords entered the room, lowered the prison crystal door and simply swept me away. They took what seemed a labyrintine path inside the Oranbegan tunnels, walking for about half an hour, and brought me to a room with an altar in the centre. They tied me to it, and then a death mage came along with a sharp, pointy black crystal. That's when I started to feel really terrified."
Her smile was a bit uneasy: she wasn't used to fear. Not to *that* amount of fear. And maybe, she was a bit afraid that Steve would've thought her weak for it.
"The death mage walked toward the altar with the black crystal in his hands; he chanted something I couldn't make out (from the sound of it, it could have been latin, though), and when the chanting stopped he plunged the crystal toward my heart. I managed to free my left hand as I felt the shard tip inside my flesh. Just in time for me to block it and prevent it from piercing my heart and lungs." she smiled, moving her left hand slightly on the table.
"I didn't even dare to breath. We struggled for a bit, then I managed to grab the crystal and smash it against the nearest surface; I don't know why, but this almost instantly killed the wizard. With my left hand I then grabbed my sword, used it to cut my bonds while he was in his death throes, and fought the behemoths and wizards in the room until I managed to escape."
She smiled at Steve:
"It is a rather simple story, I know. Let's say I just spared you the grisly details. This wound is the crystal shard wound. It stopped bleeding, but it isn't regenerating... or if it is, it's regenerating so slowly that I still haven't noticed any change after about 20 hours. I will give it some more days: if it doesn't start healing in a handful of days, I will ask Azuria about it."
Falcon winked, her voice now amused:
"And yes, you can look at the bandage as much as you want, I know that it is attention drawing, so I won't take offense."
[OOC: Here I am! Back after registering my latest exam. Maximum marks! Cheer for me, guys! 
The longer, and I daresay better, version of Falcon's story is on the Roleplaying boards: not too long, not too short, if you have some spare time and want to check it out feel free. ]
"Hey, thanks. I might need it. You know, I think I saw a designated smoking area back towards the bar earlier. Maybe somebody back there could give you a light, too." He smiled, as he was reminded of one of the first missions he had ventured out on after just meeting Crem. Some Hellions were harassing a citizen, thinking to rob them by asking for a light to get them off guard. Crem just walked up behind one of the thugs, politely declaring that she could help the poor fool with a light while bathing him in her aura. He had started running away, but she simply followed him relentlesly, bystanders staring slack jawed as the two of them zig zagged down two full city blocks before the goon finally just surrendered.
"Good luck to you too."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Thanks, I'll go have a look. Check the place out while I'm at it." Armitage began a slow casual walk into the restuarant. His eyes still hidden behind his glasses, he allowed them to slip slightly into his other sight. An overaly of the normal world became colors of ever description. The colors formed patterns in waves. He sometimes felt like it was cheating, but it did allow him to see many things about a person. How healthy they were, if they were injured physically as well as mentally, and most importantly the varies energies used to fuel powers. If someone where to meet his eyes while using the sight, they would not be met by human eyes.
He began to grin as he saw the patterns appear in bright vibrant colors. His grin broadend when he realized many sections of the restuarant were actually alive. He took a slow circutous route, allowing him to see more of the place. He grinned at the demon girl making chirping sounds while a man sipped tea across from her.
Armitage had to stop in his tracks and a look of suprise crossed his face. He had heard of them by reputation but had never met the Ladies. I single word escaped from his lips in whisper. "Beautiful." Sometimes he wished he could share his other sight with people. Someday he would have to try and come up with the words to express the vibrancy and life he saw in others who were sure in purpose. Realizing he was staring, he noded toward the group and quickly walked away before he could disturb them.
This took him near a table were a well dressed man and a woman in white and gold, that gave him the impression of a Valkyire, sat dinning. He winced when he saw the dark viens in her aura that led to a wound in her side. It appeared to him to be a soul burn. The energies around it whirled and seethed as if alive, which he associated with magic. For the second time tonight he was staring at someone. "Damn, Im being rude again." He thought. He quickly turned away and began walking toward the other end of the building.
That's when he saw her. Sitting like a queen on a throne. A demoness who was idly examing the back of her fingernails looking bored. Having been born to strictly religious parents, he couldn't help but chuckle. She was, if not the exact image, very close to the way his parents described the demons that would tempt him or get him for being wicked. Unfortunately for his parents, Armitage had let science become his religion. The table was set for two. He couldn't help himself and said. "So who's the lucky [censored]?" He smiled wide showing that his upper and lower canines were elongated.
((OOC Hmm don't have a spell checker and not as good as I would have liked, but I wanted to post something before going to bed. Also, I think I got just about everyone who is still currently in the thread. I know I left three people out. Ill get to them soon if they dont come back. I figure its a way to remind them if they are still reading.
Also, no I5 problems in here so its safe to post. :P ))
Armitage DM/INV/Dark Scrapper Lvl 50
Felonie Energy/Energy/GW Brute Lvl 50
Global ID:Armitage
"But does one ever truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate, and thus defy the tyrannous stars."
Falcon Kitiara noticed the look that the white man with black leather boots and pants had given to her wound. She lifted one snow-white gloved hand to cover the small patch for an instant, as if it had been a mark of shame and symbol of poor combat skills, then she lowered it again. Everyone is defeated sooner or later, I shouldn't be so ashamed for a single defeat she thought, and turned her head toward the man for a second, an inquiring look inside her eyes, trying to understand his feelings. When she saw neither spite nor sneer in his eyes, only genuine concern, she relaxed and smiled slightly, wondering why he seemed to be concerned for a wound he knew nothing about.
With a last, curious look to his white hair and strange, sometimes gaunt appearance, she turned back her attention on her date: after all it wasn't very romantic to stare at someone else when she was in such good company...
Hey, Angie wants me top tell you people that she will write some more when shes back but she cant right now. She siad shes sorry she cant get on here.
Later,
Les
"Well, you don't have to tell me." Cold sighed as he looked at the bottle, " I've learned over time not to overtalk."
Cold drank the last of the vodka and went over to a pool table. He walked back to the counter and said, " May I have the pool balls?"
" Yes you may." the bartender said handing cold the set of pool balls.
Cold walked over to the table and set up everything. He then took a seat.
__________________________________________________ _
UMBRELLA SHIELD entered the bar wondering why Coldfire wanted to meet here. He could barely fit in the door with his huge black armor. " Is there a man in all black with red flame details all over him here?" he asked the bartender. "Yes, he is over at that pool table. "Thanks" he responded.
"Coldfire? What is the big deal, why did you want to see me?" UMBRELLA asked as he walked over to the table. "This is important UMBRELLA, but first, how about a game of pool?" Coldfire said. "What? If you have important information, just tell me so we can get on with our lives!" UMBRELLA argued.
"Just play, I'll tell you in a moment." Cold said as he stood up and pulled a pool stick off the wall, "We need to confirm something first, and this is the only way, trust me."
"Alright Cold, but you better be going somewhere with this!" UMBRELLA said as his armor folded down to show a military like uniform below.
((Our thanks. Do send Angie our regards.
-Jon))
Issue 23: All your base are belong to us?
((OOC: All right, time to stop simpering around and licking my wounds. Leslie, my significant other, was kind enough to reply to emails and post here to let people know, but it's time this girl got her game back on.
I may be spotty over the next few days, but I plead temporary drug-induced insanity. I will be replying to you all, and thank you for your patience.
For reference, my computer still crashes with CoH regularly, and I blame I4 completely. The RP boards are my only refuge, since trying to complete a mission is impossible. Two months now, and my problem still exists, so I am throwing myself into RP.))
"Good evening, thank you for calling Ladies by the Lake," the proper english accent carried even over the wire, "may I help you?"
Martin listened for a moment, opening the reservation book with practised ease. He was looking through the names, the caller was announcing a rather substantial party for seating. The date named was fairly open, and there were plenty of tables for that night open.
"And the name I should reserve them under, sir?" His sharpened pencil stopped, hovering over the parchment at the caller's response. No wonder the voice sounded familiar.
"I am sorry, sir," he closed the book and returned the pencil to the tidy podium, "we have no available spaces that evening. No sir, none that evening either." Martin's eyes never returned to the book, he had his instructions. "Certainly sir, one moment."
Pressing buttons, he alerted Gal in the kitchen, and transferred the call to the office. Even a citizen could be offended when those who claimed to care simply stopped being seen.
********
"Naw, he had it right," Gal was outwardly calm, but still angry. "What am 'Ah payin' my taxes for if the City ain't gonna' take care of itself? I mean, the Sat feed an' computer network is a disaster, an' all 'Ah keep hearin' is bear with us, or we're workin' on it.
"Maybe, jus' maybe ya'll should'a thought about the extra strain those eyesore stadiums was gonna' put on." The voice at the other end rattled back, the same tired story she had been hearing for two months while her customers had to deal with errant city services.
"No, you listen ta' me." Even in this office, her head came dangerously close to the ceiling when she straightened. "You and the rest of the Phalanx got an open invite WHEN you can tell me you have a plan. A real, honest to Goddess plan to get things back on track. 'Till then, you don' darken my doorstep."
More words chattered over the phone. Gal massaged a temple, looking tired for the audience she didn't have. It was common knowledge that many of the most trusted among them had simply stopped talking, stopped communicating with the rank and file. Changes had come and there was no explanation, problems arose with no help and critical issues came with no warning. That's what hurt the most, being treated like cattle.
"TRUSTED," her voice rose enough that even Martin heard the echo across the building. "The word is trusted, past tense. You stopped talking, stopped giving us any reason to believe 'cept for sayin' 'wait 'til the next issue'. Ain't fattenin' no more frogs for snakes. You come out, talk and earn my trust again, States. 'Till then, stay in your Ivory Tower, Ah'm sure they got room service." The phone quietly settled into the cradle and Gal took a deep breath. Sometimes being a hero meant admitting you had screwed up, and then really trying to fix it.
Sir, Martin greeted Jasper when he approached the podium, There is no phone call, a simple ruse to allow for last minute instructions. The thin Englishman allowed a humorless smile. The arrangements are made, only awaiting your approval. With a small motion of one arm, he directed Jasper into a small alcove, out of sight of his table.
As I was told, Miss Gypsy cannot determine the exact customs of your companion by a simple passing, but that there are certain symbols that carry through to all forms of summoning. Since you have evinced that the lady is somehow bound, certain of these symbols will demonstrate your desire for her company but not for her servitude.
Miss Gypsy has said that certain symbols are significant. The Goulasch is typically served on a bed of rice, but your dish will be served on a black plate in a ring of white rice with a noticeable gap on one side. During a summoning or binding, a broken ring means that the summoned is unbound and may leave at any time. He left out the part Gypsy had mentioned about this usually being the last act a summoner ever performed, as the demon called would typically be very unhappy. Martins memory was flawless, and his powers of observation impressive. Five minutes with Gypsy and you would think he actually practiced occult ceremony.
I have been asked to determine whether you intend to present a ring to the lady, which would be customary. Miss Gypsy seems to believe that a ring would send the wrong message in this case, but she has presented a possible solution, if I can be so bold.
Martin, confident as only someone with a lifetime of arranging matters could be, waited for Jaspers response. As he stood, he raised one hand, a small pouch of fine leather in his palm.
((OOC: OK, Betty. You asked for the crews help, and thanks to the various backgrounds of my characters, you now have an occult expert at hand. Thats Gypsy, being a Dark/Dark Scrapper. Rings, in occult works, typically denote binding or holding, and are avoided by any spirit or demon. Broken rings are signs of release or freedom, hence the ring of rice being purposefully broken. If Jasper has a ring, Martin may be able to suggest something symbolic that could help.
Dont let me ruin your story though, I am just along for the wonderful story and ride.  ))
"Good evening, sir," Candace took the podium as Martin and Jasper walked a short distance away. "Would you care for the dining room or the bar this evening? Both have smoking sections."
((OOC: I am sorry for the long delay, but it could not be helped. If you are still out there, do not think I was ignoring you, only spending some time in bed. I hope you will stay, enjoy some food and some company.))
"A simple story." He was almost amused at her lack of ego. The Circle was not yet in his range, but he knew from stories that they could be a force for even teams of heroes. "Simple was nah' what I would ha' said o' it."
That she had seen to keep their date, after such an ordeal, was impressive. He would have understood if she had called to postpone for far less. As it was, he was enjoying her company and the evening.
"I'll na' try you wi' the same methods," he joked, "though I can see why yeh are the center of attention. Yeh fairly sparkle, Lady." He raised his glass in salute.
((OOC: Excellent for you Miss Kitiara, and well deserved the marks are. There is another post coming for you in the next day or so, but I am still getting my rhythm back.))
((OOC Yup, I'm still here. I think it got to the point that everyone was just waiting for you to come back. I'm waiting to see if Betty responds to me. If not, Ill wrap it up and post something tonight.
Sorry to hear you aren't feeling well, hope you feel well soon. Also, I don't know if you have tried the Technical Support Forum. The posters in there are pretty sharp. They might be able to help you or at least improve system performance. ))
Armitage DM/INV/Dark Scrapper Lvl 50
Felonie Energy/Energy/GW Brute Lvl 50
Global ID:Armitage
"But does one ever truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate, and thus defy the tyrannous stars."
The word "Trusted" echoed across the restaurant causing Armitage to wince. He turned his head in the general direction as his smile faded. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary he turned back to the demoness who arched a delicate eyebrow at him. He shrugged slowly and gave her a slight bow. Without further adieu, he placed his unlit cigarette back in his mouth and continued on toward the bar.
His thoughts wandered toward his parents. He hadnt really thought about them in a long time. He knew they had died back in the 30s from an illness. A lot of his memories from what he considered his previous life were more like half remembered dreams. That only applied to the memories he had recovered. He had regained much of the knowledge he had accumulated in his lifetime as well as most of the memories centered on important events of his life. Everything else about himself he had learned from the extensive black leather bound journals he had kept.
As he entered the bar, he paused to let a waitress with a tray pass by him before heading toward the bar. He slowly approached the bar as his gaze wondered around taking in the magnificent bar. His vision showed him that the bar, like many other pieces in the restaurant, was alive. The grin came back to his face and he mumbled Nice. around the unlit cigarette in his mouth. He took the cigarette from his mouth and approached the bartender.
(( OOC Sorry meant to post yesterday but got halfway through what I was writing and realized I didnt want to go in that direction. I hope everyone is well. I looked through several threads but I couldnt find a solid description of Narshwan. All I seemed to find was that she was young, made of ice, and her eyes were solid white. ))
Armitage DM/INV/Dark Scrapper Lvl 50
Felonie Energy/Energy/GW Brute Lvl 50
Global ID:Armitage
"But does one ever truly have a choice? One can only match, move by move, the machinations of fate, and thus defy the tyrannous stars."
((OOC: Well, Armitage, I am very impressed that you would research Nar, and touched that you care. 
))
Gertrude sidestepped the man, the tray she was carrying remained steady and centered. Narshawn kept track of the comings and goings, sometimes out of the corner of an eye. The newcomer drew her momentary attention.
The ice woman hovered behind the bar, no taller than a short child, and with features more carved than grown, she was often stared at. One of the lessons here in Paragon, accepting the attention. The clothing she displayed was just an extension of her skin, made of ice, controlled by her whim and there simply because society indicated it was proper. Like ice, the color was somewhere between blue and white, hinting at depth.
She smiled as the man made his way to the bar, his simplistic style complimenting the lack of color in his skin. White light behind her eyes, her hair sat like a mountain peak, straight and stiff when her head turned. Her smile usually brought the most attention, tiny, sharp teeth belonging to predatory animals and shaped like icicles.
"Hello, I am Narshawn, welcome to Ladies by the Lake." She motioned to the room, her small hand lingering in the direction of the pool room. "The smoking area is there, but Gertrude will provide a full menu and serve you anywhere. May I provide something for you now? Perhaps to carry with you?"
The wall of flavors behind her was impressive, and truly only a part of the entire stock. Some was valuable, some was standard and some had no label or identifying marks.
Coldfire and SHIELD played pool for about 20 minutes before either said a word. They each sucked at pool so it took them forever to finish. "OK, I think it is safe now." Cold said. "So what do you want to tell me?" SHIELD asked. "Alright, I have kept track of some of the villian groups of this city and may have found a major connection. I found Crey tech as well as Umbrella tech at the Council base on Striga. I believe that either Crey has stolen Umbrella tech and sold it to Council along with their own or the Council already had it. So I investigated some Crey bases and found boxes marked with the Council logo and found Umbrella tech inside. Then I went to a Council lab and found some formulas that make Vampyri and War Wolves, it is similar to the T-Virus..." Cold explained. "So Crey and the Council are using Umbrella tech to make monsters?" SHIELD asked. "Yes and no, I think that the 5th column may have had Umbrella tech and the Council took it, and now uses it to make their own monsters. So in turn they sell these virus' to Crey so they can use it in medicine and their own monsters. But..." Cold trailed off. "But what? What do you know? Tell me Cold!" SHIELD yelled calling the attention of the other bar goers. "Keep it done SHIELD, it isn't safe to say anymore. I'll contact you later." Cold said. "Fine, cya." SHIELD said agrivated.
SHIELD walked out of the bar, and off into the raining streets. Cold went back up to the bartender, "Another Vodka, leave the bottle." he said. Putting his hat back on and looking at a civilian that had been listening to himself and SHIELD. "By the way miss, do you know that man over there?" Cold said pointing at the man.
((OOC you can do anything at this point, as long as it moves on my story.))
[ QUOTE ]
"I may leave you? Or would you like to be ready?" Her English was good, but not perfect yet.
[/ QUOTE ]
"If you could give us just a few moments?" Jasper said as he met Crem's eyes, nearly impossibly blue, over the top of the menus as they both looked them over. She arrived in Paragon without knowing how to read, English at least, so he had been working on teaching her. Unfortunately, due to her impatience with the exercise, she wasn't exactly literate yet. He knew her pride didn't really allow her to ask for help, so he would usually just go about giving her hints in a round about way through conversation.
"Is good. I give few minutes," said the lady who had come to serve them. She didn't look like any waitress he had ever seen before, but it didn't bother him. He always enjoyed the unusual in life. Besides, in a way nearly everything here, or rather now, would always seem a little unusual to him compared to the somewhat distant future. Well, he was glad she didn't ask him to taste the wine like waiters sometimes did. That would be just spiffy, then he and Crem would both be sitting there trying to make it look like they knew what they were doing while having very little idea.
He wasn't worried about covertly using the device Martin had given him earlier. He counted sleight of hand as a forte of his, and he knew Crem would be relatively busy making it look like she was nonchalantly reading the menu instead of slowly trying to sound everything out in her mind. He would have plenty of time to figure out whatever it revealed. He was relatively sure he was going to order the Goulasch as it sounded like it was plenty hot. He would let her choose an appetizer and dessert.
He slid the thin device out of his sleeve and placed it on the appropriate section of the menu. Words became visible that weren't there before: "Sir, Gypsy has seen, she knows the race. I can arrange a setting she will understand. She will know you intend equal partnership, not bondage."
Now he also knew he would be ordering the special in addition to the Goulasch.