Jun 01 04:10:21 106 PA
From Chronicles
The club is a liberal mix of modern and classic styles with a dark, warm lean to the hardwood and metal decor, dressed up with velvet and leather. Set up about the stage with attached DJ station and dance floor at the center, the entrance is set to one end of this, the bar to the other. The entrance itself is tightly controlled. There are always two well dressed people at the front, a bouncer to check each person coming in and another watching the drum and closet lockers that hold all patron weapons.
A broad , semi circular stage extends from the center of the widest wall, rising two feet, with lights rimming the edge and hidden in scaffolds high above. A rich red velvet curtain lies ready to sweep about and veil the stage itself from view. The DJ booth is set up right next to the stage, set into the same wall. With a thick window and biometric locks on the two side doors, one to the stage and the other to a set of stairs down, the equipment within is secure. Within a C shaped desk and racks hold the sound equipment, all linked into a central computer. All done up in sleek, dark cases, mixing well with the warm, wood paneling of the booth's exterior.
A dance floor is central to the club, laid out in a broad circle before the stage. Laid out in a semi circle opposite the stage side of the dance floor are a series of round tables, with smaller two person sized ones at the edge, with larger four person tables in the next row and a few grand six to eight person tables on the outer edge. All staggered to make for the best view for all to the dance floor and stage. To one side of this central focus is the bar, a broad affair taking up much of the shorter wall in width. The bar itself is a mix of modern and classic, with the simple, elegant hardwood design of the bar itself mixing with the display of alcohol behind it, opaque plastic shelves lit from within to highlight the wide selection of common and uncommon liquors for sale. The barstools themselves, lined up in a neat row, mix dark metallic stems with comfy red leather seats.
Following a hard day's work (that was neither difficult nor consumed the day), it is time for fun and frolic. Late evening at the Alibi is a place to find such, and so Leonard is present. He currently loiters at the bar, casually dressed and drink in hand. A few passing bits of conversation with other patrons, predominantly female, are or have occured, intermittently.
Maya has given up on sleep, turning her footsteps to the Alibi instead of bed. She takes her time to reach the bar, pausing to chat with people she knows, her grin cheerful and friendly, but no hint of anything more. Finally she reaches the bar, wiggling her fingers at the staff to get a drink, before turning to survey the crowds. As her gaze lands on Leonard, there is a minute hesitation, before she moves to offer him a hug.
Without a verbal warning, Leonard is somewhat unprepared for the embrace. He recovers quickly, however, and returns with a squeeze more emphatic and lingering than the norm. This is probably not unexpected, but the affectionately quick kiss upon her cheek that follows might be. Potentially the accompanying smile, as well. "It's good to see you, Maya."
Maya returns the kiss, giving him a steady look, questioningly, as she steps back and takes her glass. She settles on a stool next to him, and tilts her head. "So." She begins, giving him a quick grin. "I met Emayn." She lifts the drink, taking a slurp of the purple liquid, watching him over the brim. "Have you spoken to Vixen?"
Flare slips into the Alibi, pausing to go through the usual spiel at the door. She giggles a little today though, seems might eb a little ticklish. She looks like she just came from, or is just heading to work, glitter on her skin a bit and some in her hair.
"Oh? Is that good or bad?" Leonard arches an inquiring brow at her mention of meetings, then falls back into place at the question. "Yes." A simple nod and a prime moment to conceal his lips with a drink fro his glass.
Maya's interest shows on her face but she accepts the brief answer, giving her own reply more fully. "I don't know. I made a mistake with her, but I've apologised for it. Stupid of me, I just did it instinctively." A hesitation and she shakes her head, "I don't mean to deny my own responsibility and make excuses."
Flare glances around the place now that she has made it away from the ticklers and then her gaze alights on a familiar face, maybe two. She heads to get a drink and waves a bit towards the two talking.
Leonard gives Maya an apprasing glance from head to toe before noting, "It looks that your apology was taken more easily than mine. If there was an issue, she wouldn't hesitate to let you know." The glittering Flare is given a smile and casual wave in return, "Evening, Flare. Coming or going?"
Maya returns Leonard's gaze steadily, a flicker of a frown showing on her face. "I suspect my crime was less... intrusive than yours." She replies, turning to greet the newcomer, giving her a quick grin. "Hi." She greets, taking a swig of her drink.
Flare pauses to look at the two for a moment. She doesn't hide the fact of checking out Maya for a moment and looking at Leonard, "Coming, crashed last night and felt better when I woke up so I went and danced a few sets." she says and smiles and can't remember if she met Maya or not so offers a hand, "I do appologize, cannot remember if we have met, I am Flare." says the crimson haired elf.
"Good. I'm glad that you're feeling better." Leonard leaves Maya's comment unanswered and simply watches the ladies with a moment of silence on his part, in deference to introductions.
Maya's glance at Leonard is speaking as she returns the look over of the other woman. She offers her hand in reply, her gripe firm and cool. "Maya." She replies simply, before reclaiming her hand, taking up her drink. She gives Leonard a steady look, thoughtful.
Flare looks between the two and nods, "Definitely feeling better." she says and then cocks her head to the side, "Did I interupt something?" she asks and then out of the blue she looks at Maya, "You wouldn't be fireproof would ya?"
Leonard may be quiet, but he does join the lookie-loo club by giving Flare the ocular onceover, as well. Then Maya's glance is noted and he arches a brow. Before he can ask of it, Flare's sudden question sparks a short laugh. "Are you on the prowl, Flare? I can't fault you in the slightest for asking, of course."
"Only Leonard avoiding my questions." The reply is soft, but Flare's question brings startled hazel eyes to the other woman, Maya's eyebrows shooting up. "Uh, not the last time I tested it, I'm not." She shakes her head in the negative, giving them both a faint look of bemusement, before light dawns and she shakes her head. "Glad it amuses you." She comments to Leonard.
"Which questions would you like answered, Maya?" Leonard's tone remains light, and it seems that he is, indeed, amused.
Maya's glance at Flare is revealing, her awareness of Leonard's privacy showing. "I think you know, and you can tell me later." Her reply is quiet, the grin missing, a serious expression peeping out. She takes her glass in both hands, taking a large slurp.
Just when Leonard might comment upon fireproofing of others, Flare decides to move elsewhere. With another sip from his drink, he turns back from her departure to Maya. "I've spoken to both Ema and Vixen, if they are the questions. I'm not the psychic, so I can only guess at what others you might have, Maya."
Maya glances after the woman, a flicker of a frown on her forehead before she replies to Leonard. "What happened? Will she forgive you?" A hesitation, "Vixen, I mean. I don't mind if I have the flat alone if you two get back together..."
"We're done, Maya." There's no more amusement in Leonard's features, but a resigned neutrality. "Back to square one, to quote her. There's no hate, but I don't think there's much anything else at the moment, either."
Maya's face fills with sympathy, and she puts her drink down, offering the man a hug. It is a warm one, her arms around his neck, "I'm sorry, Leonard." She offers the comment softly into his ear. "I wish I could fix things."
Leonard leans into the Maya's embrace with a mixed sigh. Forlorn, but also finding some comfort in the moment. He is definitely in need of the hug. "Thank you. As do I." His own reply is given in the same soft, close manner. "If I didn't already know your rules, I'd offer a temporary suggestion, though it would fix nothing."
Maya and Leonard are at the bar, Maya hugging the man, a longer one than her normal greeting hug. The words they speak to each other are spoken softly next to each other's ears. "I'm sorry." Maya's gentle rejection to the hint is given with a tightening of the hug and a light kiss against his cheek. Hazel eyes study his face as she leans back, not removing herself from his arms.
The bartender places a purple thing in front of Maya, and a broad pink thing with a little umbrella in front of Leonard. The former's her usual drink. The latter smells of coconut, and who knows what it is. The tender just points down the bar, saying, "From the gentleman at the end," where Sebastien sits in his club gear. Scratchy silver woven mesh shirt, leather pants with gaping holes in interesting places, and hair done up in spikes. His own drink is yellow, with crushed ice on top, and he sips it from a straw as he watches from afar.
"Me, too." Leonard makes no move to remove her, and a grin returns to his lips. "Especially now, as I'm sober and know not to accept medication..." The arrival of the drinks draw a brow up and then his gaze Sebastienwards. The grin curls further before eyes return to Maya once more. "It's just as well, since it seems your fruit is here."
Maya disentangles herself as the glasses are put beside them. Her grin returns, a glance at Sebastien as she takes up the glass, lifting it to him. She beckons to him, turning back to Leonard. "It's Sebastien. Fruit?" She asks, giving the little pink glass a glance, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I don't think you'd be a good one night person. You are complicated, Leonard."
The young knight slips from his stool, his glass in hand, and meanders along behind the seated people on slow approach. "He heard me invoke the right of Fruit with our mutual redheaded friend," Sebastien speaks simply, and smiles. "And because he does not understand this, he picks at it. It maddens him he misunderstands the power of Fruit." Sebastien winks at Leonard, slowing as he draws behind them. A little frown touches his lips, as the young knight peers for a place to sit.
Leonard's grin curls wryly, ever more. "I'm rather greedy, as well. Definitely no good for just one." Now disentangled, he straightens from the bar. "As I lack the fruity wisdom, I'll leave you in the capable hands of /Sebastien./" The wink from the same is returned, along with an exagerrated thumbs up, as Leonard moves to depart. Among other issues solved is the lack of seating.
"The right of Fruit?" Maya questions, turning up her face to Sebastien, offering him both a hug and the kisses that were denied to Leonard, a movement easy and natural, clearly practiced. Leonard's departure is given a wave and a broad grin, affection in the woman's movements. "How are things with her?" Maya clearly knows who Sebastien is speaking of.
"Oui," Sebastien replies cheerfully, returning those kisses on Maya's cheeks and planting one firm on her lips before conquering the still-warm seat. It seems he has two drinks to finish! "The Right of Fruit. You didn't know?" The dolled-up knight gives Maya a perfectly innocent look, wide-eyed as he sips his yellow concoction dry, and pushes that forward in exchange for the coconut drink. "That boy is terriblement confused. And ah, she does well. She is still frightened of what a relationship would mean. She was once engaged, but never, ah, consummated this before something terrible happened between them. I think she is afraid I will lose interest the moment she does more in a bed than sleep."
Maya returns the kiss on her lips to his, a teasing, if brief, press of her body against his before she returns to her seat. "That boy is very confused and hurt, and even though he bought it on himself, I can't help but feel sorry for him." She shakes her head, taking a slurp of the purple drink, before giving Sebastien a grin. "She is in for a shock when she does. Will you bring out all your toys at once?" A reference to something past.
"At once?" Sebastien asks, and he laughs, shaking that head with a bob of his silvered hair. "Non, not at once. It would be a grave disservice, I think. She has no seen the lion yet, and there is so very much he can do without draping a circus about him to tickle the fancy of a jaded viewer." His eyebrows raise, and he takes a moment to sip that coconut drink before laughing, and peering back over his shoulder. "Leonard missed a treat," he notes softly, licking his lips. "But early on, I think, before her ways become set. I have grand plans, for my little Inuit." He nods at that, a dark look in his eyes and a broad grin on his face.
Maya, seemingly entirely without jealousy, grins too, shaking her head. "I see." She takes a slurp of her drink, her face falling into serious lines before she comments quietly, "I messed up, Sebastien. I think Joachim thinks less of me for it." She rests her elbows on the bar, leaning her face between them as she slurps the drink, her shoulders slumping. "I used telepathy on someone, a patient, after they asked me something private. I told him and I apologised to her but ..."
The young knight nods, shaking his head once, "Oui, I do recall this," he turns a touch, leaning over May in an easy motion. The casual observer would see his face an inch from hers, but would miss his hand braced against her thigh. It traps the pleated skirt there, his middle finger slipping up inside the garment to touch the creamy skin above the top of those socks. "Despite your efforts to otherwise distract me," he adds, grinning before stealing another kiss. By the time he leans back everything's very proper again, and he adds, "Thoughts are your own. Everyone needs a private place, and if they cannot have the contents of their own head, then nothing is sacred. What you did was a wicked thing, mademoiselle. I put it akin to drawing a sword on a person. It is a tool used only for self-defense."
Maya lets him have that kiss, given instead of stolen, and nobody would see her movement to tease him lightly, her thighs parting slightly, and then to trap that finger. "It was. I'm not making excuses, Sebaastien." The despondency is obvious, and clearly a hair shirt has been worn for some time over this. "I sought her out and apologised, but...he looked so disappointed." She sighs, a little huff of breath before she takes a large slurp of the purple drink. "I tried to say something about how I felt too, and fell flat on my face, ended up offering to take a pay cut."
Sebastien falls very silent at that, staring at Maya quietly. His lips purse, and he quietly scratches the back of his head, then reaches for his drink. It's a neutral look, hiding what has to be a great deal of new disapproval, though all he says is "I see. And ah, how did he take that?" Sebastien gives a polite smile, his lips locking on that straw into his drink, and the liquid seems to evaporate remarkably fast as he listens raptly.
"He didn't. He just commented on the pay cut." She makes a tiny movement with her finger, the glass sliding away from her before she twists on the stool, giving Sebastien a direct look. "Go on. Give it to me." She slides her hands under her thighs, sitting on her hands, her expression lacking any sign of the grin, the corners of her mouth turned down.
Sebastien gives his head a little shake, smiling abruptly. "Mademoiselle, please tell me of the matter of the pay cut before I reply." His face is cheerful, in a blank way, eyes bright and hair up, smile broad and friendly. But there's no heat, no lust, no dark knowing in his eyes that makes a lie of it.
Maya's forehead wrinkles slightly and she shrugs, her gaze dropping. "I asked him if he had someone to talk to at the day's end, and he is unattached. Then he asked how the lab was, and I said it was great, he said money would be tight and I offered to take a pay cut." She shrugs, watching his face with narrowed hazel eyes. "He laughed."
"Good," comes the reply, and Sebastien leans closer to let out a long blow of air. Reaching for Maya's shoulders, he drops his forehead to rest against hers. The pair sit at the bar on stools, seating is tight. They have drinks before them, and his is empty. Well, the latest one. Sebastien murmurs, "You must not ask that of him again. Of anyone. Mademoiselle, when you offer to take a pay cut because you are psychic, you endanger the rest of us. Some never learn precise control. Some do not even learn to properly use one of more of their five senses, so dependent do they become on their sixth. I once met a boy who could not even speak, save to yell in someone's head. When you say you will take less money for your gifts, you imply that this is proper for others as well."
His movement brings a reply from the woman, a shifting of position to allow him to be closer automatically. That puts her thighs either side of him, her hands moving to rest on his chest. Maya's confusion is obvious, and then enlightenment dawns and she shakes her head fervently. "No! I offered because he said the hospital was running low on funding! Not because of what I can do." Her eyes widen and she bites her lower lip, "Do you think he thought I meant that? I was so worried he realised the other thing that never occurred to me..." The scientist is so worried that she entirely fails to probe into the interesting case Sebastien mentions.
Vixen comes into the Alibi in an obvious funk. She shoves her weapons at the bouncers and stalks past them after, making for the bar straight off. Moving purposefully through the people gathered to belly up. Credits go down and she makes the request. Strawberry Tequilla. Big glass. Which isn't too big, really, but bigger than the norm. And once she has it in hand, she lifts the glass to drink deep. Her throat pays for it, but she doesn't care. And after, she actually focuses on who is around her, detecting Maya's voice nearby. Turning her head, she picks out the woman and moves around to her.. and Seb. She eyes him, then glances at Maya, a brow arched subtly before she wonders, "Not interrupting anything, am I?" The question shot at the other woman.
Sebastien gives the woman's shoulder a squeeze, and he looks up. And swings his eyes to the side, whispering, "She is behind me, is she not?" His shoulders rock in quiet laughter, and the young man calls out in a cheery voice, "N'absolumment pas, petite Belle, mademoiselle Vixen!" He kisses Maya's forehead before standing and turning, arms wide to offer the woman a big hug if she wants, "Come, sit! We were just talking about how Maya nearly avoided her downsizing at work."
Sebastien's response draws a smile from Maya finally and she shakes her head, sliding from the stool to offer Vixen a hug, albeit less dramatically than Sebastien. "Only me being a little stupid." She replies with a quick grin. "I got the flat sorted out. We can move in whenever." The swift change of topic does nothing to hide a flush in her cheeks but the hug is as enthused as ever and Maya's grin is firmly in place as she turns to grab up her drink.
Vixen frowns faintly at Seb when he offers to hug her. "No," she tells him outright. "And speak American." The last bit is noted as she looks towards Maya with a note of concern. Maya gets her hug. "That's good at least. Glad you're still stable. Though I feel like hitting things right now," she offers, punctuating that with a thoughtful glance at Seb. But she doesn't hit him, instead lifting her glass for another drink.
Sebastien frowns at the Vixen, pouting faintly, and he eases himself back behind Maya. His knees brush the backs of hers, and he sits on her stool as an open invitation. Two seats, three people, he'll share! He's getting ever so much more daring. "Then, beautiful Vixen, I greet you warmly from afar." He grins at her, raising a finger towards the bartender to call, "Soullement un autre!" Relaxing then, he wonders, "Would it be impolite to ask who has wounded you, dear?"
Maya glances over her shoulder at Sebastien, laughing at his audacity but leaning back into him, nudging him to nestle between his thighs. "Stable?" She asks Vixen, her forehead creasing in concern, "What upset you?" The word "Leonard" shows clearly in a thought bubble above her head, floating unspoken between the women, softly spoken to Vixen's mind. She reaches out to take up her drink, taking a sip through the straw as she awaits the other's reply.
"I got an ultimatum. It was kindly worded, but the substance is there," Vixen replies simply. "I settle some of the refugees in the Dregs or, if I try and do so outside of the city, Kingsdale removes them as a threat against the city." The young woman snorts in undisguised derision. Any fucker that says age gives you wisdom is talking bullshit, just makes you set in your ways." She doesn't sit, too keyed up for the moment.
Sebastien's arms wrap about Maya's waist like a seatbelt, and he gazes at Vixen over the darkling's black hair. As his drink arrives, he just gives a grin at the 'tender's look of chastisement and shrugs helplessly as if to say, 'only so many stools!' He has to lean waaay back to catch a sip of his broad-rimmed fruity coconut drink, and wonders aloud, "Would this be such a bad thing? Imagine a large enough coalition in the dregs that the gangs could not threaten all of them, bound by a similar history into alliance, safer within the city walls than without?"
Maya's face softens into sympathetic lines, listening to Vixen's rant from her perch, her hand resting lightly over Sebastien's. "Who did you meet? The city sees them as a threat?" Sebastien's comment gets him a glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes thoughtful. "He isn't wrong, Vixen. If they outnumber the gangs, it might work..." Her drink over, her other hand rests lightly on Sebastien's thigh, the casual touch easily making it clear that she was comfortable with him.
"If Clash wasn't a massive pack of lunatics and degenerates, I might agree with you." Vixen replies to Seb, laying her drink down to start ticking off point son her fingers. "The Vigilantes I'm not worried about.. they're 'good' as it gets. The Family.. they can be dealt with. Carefully. But Clash.. they're trouble. Not to mention that the 'empty land' I was pointed at is likely claimed by several smaller gangs. To use it, they'd have to be ejected, then fended off while building. Which slows things down because the hands fending off the gangs won't be building. Not to mention we don't have the capital for high grade military structures. A few energy weapons will cut the simple wood we have apart, making any settlement not at all defensible unless we have some way to enchant the wood or get metal. And that assumes that the refugees have people that know how to work the metal and we can get the tools required. Then, there's space. Arcadia, who is the messenger they gave me, said there was room there for 300. There's more than that out there now. And more will be coming. So what the hell do we say to the ones we can't fit over there? And she has the arrogance to tell me I'm not thinking ahead. I might be young, but I'm not stupid and I grew up in the Dregs. It ain't going to be easy, if possible, to do this now." She breathes after unloading that, her tone tense, though she seems a bit more relaxed after it, if not more pleased. "They seem to think the Coalition will attack the refugees, which I think is bullshit."
"And so they wish for the refugees to be inside? Perhaps if they were in the walls, they would want the refugees outside instead!" Sebastien shakes his head, frowning. "You do not need wood and steel, but concrete. Walls, high ones. Or the help of the Guild to enchant what you have, but I think they would not lift their mighty asses off their high thrones to do such a thing." He swallows then, and ducks his head against Maya's neck for a little kiss before slipping backwards, trying to not stumble from the seat. "This is not working. I can't think like that. I just..." He raises a hand to run through his hair, grinning down at the pair, and blows out a breath. "I need air. And a quiet room. Au revoir, mademoiselles!"
Maya listens to Vixen's rant, her face sympathetic to the plight of the refugees, her hand lightly tracing against Sebastien's thigh until he kisses her neck and stumbles back from the stool. Her grin reappears then, and she bites her lower lip, the temptation to go and lend a hand flickering in her eyes as she looks back up at him. But turning her head hides it from Vixen, luckily, only revealing it to the man. "Wait a moment." She murmurs, turning back to Vixen, "Here, the key to the new flat." She holds it out, a little label stating the flat number.
"Yeah, where am I going to get concrete? This isn't a highly funded operation," Vixen notes to Seb. "Maybe the wood could get traded, but I get the feeling I'd need a lot more wood than we got now for this." She breathes out lowly and snaps up her glass, finishing it before she pops it back onto the bar. She takes the key and eyes it for a moment before slipping it into her pocket. She glances towards Seb again, then Maya before she says, "I should get outta here before I get carried away. Maybe the gym.. but we need to talk later, I think," she tells Maya. "We can get the place set up this week."
Sebastien pauses, his shoes coming together with a clack, his back straight, his arms down. Roughly at attention, though his eyes slip side to side to continue to watch the surroundings even as he's paused, perhaps just a bit cautiously. Interested in who else might be listening in to this particular conversation, now that he can think clearly again.
Maya nods, sliding from the stool to give Vixen a hug before pulling away to give her a concerned look. "I'm going to move in tomorrow." She tells the other woman softly, glancing over her shoulder at Sebastien. "I'll see you at home later and we'll talk." Definitely coming home at least, despite the intended pause elsewhere. Releasing Vixen, she turns to walk past Sebastien, giving him a glance over her shoulder, a come hither look with promise in it.
Vixen turns her head, watching the two go. She's not unaware. And afterward she shudders faintly and shakes her head. Maybe one for the road to blur that mental image just a little. Yeah. She turns back to the bar, slipping a hand into her coat to extract some credits.
