Jun 13 05:36:58 105 PA
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Sat Jun 13 05:36:58 105 PA.
TThe hub of the Nightingale Nightclub is the large dance floor in the center of the club. Overhead are racks of lighting and the infamous speaker system that makes the Nightingale all the rage with Kingsdale's more affluent citizens. A large, carpeted DJ booth oversees the crowd gathered, blasting a mix of the latest techno/pop/hiphop mixes along with Pre-Rift favorites. The club is decorated in mostly drab black and grey colors, to give the place a serene atmosphere. No matter what time of day, there are a few patrons inside, and after 9:00PM, the club usually fills up, with a long line waiting to get inside.
The tables are typical of nightclubs, and there is some seating around the dance floor. There is a section of bar stools near the bar, and a row of booths along the right and left walls. A set of black curtains separate a smaller, private room from the rest of the club. The bar is circular, with about 20 seat all around it. The bar has all the modern conveniences and sports a wide selection of liquor and beer, even a good selection of imports, though the prices are higher than elsewhere in the city, is manned by 3 bartenders at night, 2 during the day. Waitresses wander around the room in skimpy outfits. They march about with their black trays and handle themselves like professionals. Drink orders are punched into a small computer on the try and sent right to the bar. The patrons are mostly the upper class of the city. They sport the latest fashions the cand lub has an affluent atmosphere. No one is in armour or carries weapons that can be seen. Several large men in tuxedos are strategically stationed around the room. A little wire behind their ear proves they are in constant contact, and can hear even over the roar of the DJ.
Desmond steps just inside the Nightingale itself, resplendent in his cheap, but well made suit. Unlike most who might wait for a prospective date, the big male doesn't seem nervous. He pauses to linger by the entrance, head turned slightly to casually inspect the interior of the nightclub quietly. The day before he left Aimee a note, asking her to come to the Nightingale this night, right about now. To make up for his transgression and show her a pleasant evening. And he is waiting to do just that.
Of all the places and times to decide to get drunk, Kesslan seems to have chosen this one. The poor feline has had (in his oppinion anyway) a rather rough day, and all the recent stress has driven him to become a habitual alcoholic! Or... at least certainly driven him to actually drink. Something anyone who knows him, would know that he pretty much -never- does. Notably too, to those that know him, he's back out and about in his body armor and weapons. Which of course also happens to make him stand out in the next to empty Nightingale like a sore thumb. Or more notably him, a small bowl, and a large bottle of rum.
Roulin steps into the Nightingale, dressed to kill. He's got on a red silk shirt and long black slacks. Along with him comes Aimee in red dress, heels and stockings, almost if they had planned this much. If she lets him take her by the hand, he passes the bouncer on the outside with the palming of a few pretty credits and a good name built up in the off hours as someone the club wants to have hang around. Of course, the beautiful lady is surely a big draw as he smiles to Aimee and says "I hear tonight is slow dance night, they're going through classics!"
Arriving with Roulin, on his arm, she is smiling. Perhaps a little brighter, a little more glitter to her smile tonight. "Desmond will be here also..." She mentions it, in passing, as if it were a coincidence. "Slow dance, heh?" The sidelong look is teasing, amusement in her eyes.
Desmond does not note immediately as Roulin and Aimee enter, though he does take notice moments after. He will be obvious enough ahead and when he spies the two, a frown rises and there is a subtle crease to his brow. This was not expected and, for the moment his casual inspection hasn't turned up Kesslan. But it is only a matter of time. First, however, this small problem. He will approach the two, giving Roulin a quiet nod before he fixes on Aimee. "You received my note, yes?" It would be obvious that there is some concern on that matter.
Having yet to really notice the entry of anyone else, Kesslan remains seated at his table off in a corner, apparently truely drowning his miseries in what turns out to be a rather expensive bottle of high quality rum. A sizeable dollop that's poured into the bowl before he kicks the whole thing back like it was beer before he refills the bowl again. Nor does his body language point to him being a terribly happy cat right now as his ears are flattened back, his shoulders slumped and his tail, and indeed whole demeanor remains rather listless. Normally he would no doubt notice by now the entrance of several quite familar people.. especially some one the size of Desmond, but he's quite obviously not his usual alert self today to say the least.
Roulin looks over to Aimee and says "Hey, you didn't tell me Desmond would be here, Aimee..." he gives her a gentle bump with his shoulder before he says "I'll leave you two alone. Maybe get pictures if you dance." he winks before steping out to the floor solo for the moment.
She pulls a face at Roulin before he turns away, turning back to Desmond. One hand rests lightly on her hip and she lifts her chin slightly. "Oui, yes, I did." She replies, lifting her voice above the music just enough for him to hear her. "And I thought a night out dancing, it would be nice." She shrugs, glancing at the dance floor, her eyes scanning the room.
When Roulin goes off and he's left with Aimee and her oblique response to his own question, Desmond is left unsure and not slightly confused. But the net effect seems to be what he desired, so he lets that confusion drift away. He nods once and extends a hand toward her. "I do not dance so well still, but I will try," he responds to her, voice just high enough to be heard over the music. "Perhaps something to drink first? Or is that for later?"
It's only by this point that an ammazingly only slightly intoxicated radioactive feline notices the familar (if ever so slightly blurry) shapes of Aimee, Desmond.. and by the gods Roulin as well. This is clearly an occasion to try to further horribly intoxicate his alien body with booze. Fortunately, he's not drunk (yet) and while he may be a touch 'buzzed' Kesslan is clearly not a violent sort when it comes to getting drunk. Rather, it seems to mellow him out quite a good deal. But not so much that he doesnt at least try to hide his presence, which seems to be best accomplished by dropping his head to the tabletop before him with a slight and only lightly audible 'thunk'.
Roulin makes his way across the dance floor until another sight seems to catch his eyes. Kesslan. Roulin watches the head drop before giving a soft 'hmm', though he dosn't go over, not quite yet. He instead steps to the dance floor and slowly starts to move to the beat of the song. He came here to dance!
There is a brief moment of hesitation where she might refuse both but then she shrugs, taking the extended hand, her fingertips in his larger hand. "Oui, a dance would perhaps be nice." She gives him a lofty look, managing to look haughty. "So long as you don't go on about your friend." She doesn't see Kesslan in that sweep of the room, missing the man with his head on the table.
"Aimee, I know your mind on this. I have no intent to mention, so long as you keep to the same." Normally Desmond isn't firm with her. Stating as much, he uses his firm tone. But he balances it with a softer, "This was meant to be a night for you and I. Something we have not done together yet. Come." He turns then to lead her out from the entrance, to forge a path through other patrons towards the dance floor. And it will be in the midst of this that Des notes the armored figure, unique enough to draw a glance. Which will soon solidify into a more positive identification.
That armored figure however, is presently not moving. Or well.. not really. There's enough signs to point to the being being quite concious and alive. But it's the sort of thing that's a general sign of overall misery and more than likely a hefty dose of self pitty. Neither of which are things that Kesslan is prone to admitting to, much less showing others.
Roulin smiles as he turns about to see Aimee and Desmond hit the floor. He goes over to offer some sage advice, "Remember, stepping on her toes is considered a very bad thing, as well has having two left feet. Noone wants to see that. Otherwise, might be better to let Aimee lead until you learn the dances Desmond." he glances overed to the armored figure, before back to the other two, giving a simple shake of the head to indicate the figure.
She dips her gaze to the floor, letting him lead her onto the dance floor. She moves easily behind him, through the crowd, silent until Roulin approaches them. Her mouth curves into a smile at his advice to the feline at her side and the dimples reappear, the pouty sulkiness vanishing. His glance to Kesslan brings a small frown to her face, and she turns to study him. "He is sleeping here?"
Desmond frowns slightly when he notes just who the armored figure is, distinct concern notable. Though Roulin's advice distracts him just a bit. "I will keep such in mind," he offers politely before looking to Aimee at her words. "I know not." He doesn't even ask if they should check on Kesslan, immediately leading her from the dance floor to approach Kesslan's table by the most direct route, hand still linked with Aimee's. As he nears and sees the bottle that Kesslan has, the concern deepens. This is not right. "Kesslan." That distinctive deep voice.
Those feline ears flatten back at the sound of Desmond's voice. Damn, he'd hoped they'd not notice and he'd get a chance to slink off... Of Aimee.. well. He respects her oppinion and all but in the end he'd take any ammount of condemnation and screaming at him from her like water off a duck's back. But Desmond? Noo... Desmond is a whole other story for the Pantheran. Either from a deeper sense of love, kinship, or likely.. both, he cant help but mentally curse himself out for getting caught. Still. He's never been one to run away from something like this. Hide it? Yes. But never deny having done something wrong when he very well has, much less when he's effectively been caught red handed. "Yes Desmond?" Comes that slightly cowed voice from just beneath the edge of the table, refusing to look up at the larger feline.
Roulin eventually follows the pair over, and gives a look to Kesslan. He dosn't really look at the feline, instead keeping his hands to his hips and smiling. More, looking towards single people on the floor, to watch for someone he might get to dance with.
She follows Desmond, her smile fading as they approach the table, seeing the bottle Kesslan has with him. She crouches by the table, the hem of her dress sweeping the floor as she does so. "Mon chat?" Softly, worried, no shouting. Her green eyes hold concern that is mirrored on her face, her tensions with Desmond of a moment ago vanished. She uses Desmond's hand to balance herself, crouching on heels not being so easily done, as she tries to see Kesslan's face.
Desmond considers Kesslan with an expression firmly set into the neutral realm, though edged with concern. "What causes this, Kesslan?" Cutting simple and straight, right to the heart of the matter. For something such as this could not be without a catalyst. With Aimee crouched, he keeps a firm grip on her hand, his arm tensed to give her the needed support. And though his deep voice is firm, there is concern as there is in his expression. He waits to know more before drawing conclusions.
"Ammend only just finish make with Aimee, Desmond, Roulin and sprits. Now have offended great spirit touched and spirits." comes the reply. The feline finally biting the bullet and sitting up straight. His body, while still swimming in alcohol none the less gives him a clear mind once more in the process, though he's still refusing to look Desmond in the eye. "Is not time good for Kesslan in this." And of course it's when he looks up that he notices Aimee there as well... which only causes him to emit a growled moaning like sound of disress. Aimee alone he could face, Desmond alone.. not so much. But Aimee with Desmond? That.. that makes for a difficult combination to face over such a thing to him... maybe more booze is in order...
Roulin looks between Desmond and Aimee, before over to Kesslan. "How did you offend the great spirit? I thought everything would be fine now Kesslan. We've all had amends." Roulin looks over to Desmond, as if seeking a clue.
"Mon chat? What happened?" Her voice is as soft as it can be, and be heard over the music. She reaches her free hand out, aiming to touch his, to comfort him. The sound of distress deepens the concern in her eyes and she glances up at Desmond, her eyebrows drawn together, her forehead wrinkled. "Kesslan?"
Of course, this doesn't do a great deal for Desmond, though he remains silent briefly as Roulin asks after roughly the thing he was wondering. Shifting his grip on Aimee's hand, he moves himself then to move out and settle into one of the chairs at the table. "Tell us what has occurred, Kesslan. Why you chose to do this rather than come to one of us, I know not." Some light admonishment in that added bit, for it would be clear enough he does not approve. But that light bit of lecture is overshadowed by his concern.
And it's exactly that sort of admonishment that Kesslan was worried he'd get. For it hits home a little too hard. For one who's actually unsually intelligent, he seems to be doing alot of stupid things lately, and if there's anyone's opinion he gives a damn about at all these days, it's Desmond's. More than anyone else he has ever met. Even Aimee, for whom he cares for a great deal could turn him away for eternity and he would eventually get over it. But Desmond? No. That is a whole other story, and that the Kill Cat would be even remotely dissapointed in him is something that he finds suddenly stings a great deal. "Knew not what do should I." He admits lamely. "Concern wished not cause further for Aimee, Desmond. Problems enough recent have caused." he says finally looking at Desmond, pleadingly so however. And yet even that look is rather muted by the almost invisible iris' of his eyes. For it makes it very difficult, if not impossible even at this range to see the true depth of those pleas as the shift in his eyes is easily missed, though his body language certainly hints at it well enough. "Intended insult was not. Yet both to this have I done. Small woman, spirit touched with great predator who too was spirit touched. Spirit linked are they and both insulted have through knowing not of what doing was. Yet should known this I."
Roulin gives a very confused look, before gently whispering something to Aimee. He looks back to Kesslan before taking a step back, hands at his sides as he does. No matter what happens, he walks towards the dance floor.
Roulin whispers "Shall we leave these two alone and dance?"
Her gaze on Kesslan, Roulin's whisper gets a hesitation before Aimee rises to her feet, turning into Desmond, tiptoeing to whisper softly to him. "Mon chat, I think Roulin is right. It is you Kesslan wants, not so many..." She gives Kesslan a look with her worry for him written in her face, before moving to follow Roulin, her hand trailing over Desmond's stomach as she moves past him. "If he wants us, me, call me, but I think perhaps...less is more."
There is some softness to be seen when Kesslan looks to Desmond. So too, as he speaks, is there recognition of whom he speaks. "I will say this first, Kesslan. Never should you think not to come to me if you have issue. Those who would be close are not close for the good alone, but for the bad." He pauses then as Aimee whispers to him, the ear she speaks softly by perked. He nods once, accepting her words quietly, though he will give her hand a soft squeeze before she gets too far. He glances towards the bottle after, then reaches out to take it, moving it to the floor smoothly. Silently forbidding such indulgences, perhaps. Then he returns his attention to Kesslan and leans forward, an arm against the edge of the table. "I know of the one you speak. Her name.. Monique, I believe. I did speak with her on occasion. She seems pleasant.. what did you do to insult them?"
The shift of the bottle is noted, but in the end it's a crutch. And one he doesnt really need, and so while his gaze does linger momentarily in that imagined location it's sitting on the floor once it's gone from view, it's a gaze that is held but just a moment before turning to the things that really matter. "Not entire certain, think know but certain is not. Met thew two did outside of this place, but in..." there's a slight frown then as the feline finds himself unable to recall the name of the Happy Day's Inn. "In building this place is in. Near other place that one goes to eat. Such a creature I have never before seen, but know tell predator is yes? Teeth, claw, size. Worried was I would attack other, maybe attack Kesslan when come across this thing. This spirit creature, it sense this and so agressive react, so agressive react Kesslan. Is not way of Kesslan to self leave open for attack of other. This in turn offend this one say you is Moohh-nik. Did not know till end I that spirit linked both were, that sprit touched both were. Go because of Kesslan did they. Great offended I. Much dishonor this is, much bad thing. But know not I how ammend make without life blood oath."
Roulin leads Aimee out to the dance floor before offering a hand, "Would you care to lead? Or shall I?" It's an old waltz, popular quite a long time ago. He no longer seems to hear Kesslan, instead trying to focus on having an enjoyable slow dance.
She takes the hand, resting her other lightly on his shoulder. "Oh I think you should." Her mind is still with Kesslan, and her eyes tend to travel back to him. "Mon minet, he is so upset. I wish I could comfort him." Her voice is soft, carrying the worry in it's tone that is reflected in her eyes.
Of course, to Desmond this is a relatively simple matter. A misunderstanding that can be fixed, no doubt, with a few words of apology. Well, he would assume, from what little he knows of the small woman. For Kesslan, however.. He nods his understanding and considers before deciding to try the easy way once more. "Then there was a misunderstanding," he rumbles simply. "I have no doubt that, were you to approach her with thought toward repentance, she would accept a true apology. I do not think you need to give an oath." He leans forward against the table, arms crossed against the edge of it. "If she were to accept such from you, would you feel satisfied?"
"Is would be will of such as her to decide what appropriate in end is truth." Kesslan admits, yet in part he seems almost terrified of what that may mean for him. "_MUST_ ammened in some way I. Offence not ment but happen did. Offence too was not thing think I was earned. Truth in that as know Kesslan, wrong did not do Mooonnn-ike or Toorrr-ak. Wrong act did Kesslan do. Yet human way undestand not proper. Too different from Pantheran way is."
Roulin leads with Aimee, putting a hand on her hip and taking her free hand with his own. "Yeah, I know. Heck, I don't really know what to say. I'd like to get to know him and all, but there's always something." he slowly moves to the beat in the one, two, three tempo that makes the waltz, keeping the pair in closed position. "But, at least he's no longer upset with me, and got his ammends. Even got a hug out of it."
Aimee moves easily in Roulin's arms, her steps graceful and avoiding his feet as she follows his lead. "I think he has so much honour, it perhaps gets in the way of the life here." She shrugs lightly, the movement of the dance swirling her skirts around their legs. "Between he and I, mon chat Desmond, he has a very busy life." There is a rueful amusement in her voice.
Desmond nods his head once and rumbles, "From what I have seen of the woman, she is a gentle sort. I would go to her and give a proper apology. Ask how amends might be made with her. I doubt she will ask of much, if she would ask of anything at all. Or, if you would prefer, I might speak with her, though I rarely seem to meet with her at times." He pauses, then adds, "There are times I think you take things too seriously, Kesslan. I do not say this to slight your honor, but rare is it that such extreme measures are required. Many are there here who are, as you term them, spirit touched. Some who are not so deserving of respect as others. You must find a balance in this."
"Is our way Desmond. Is way Kesslan know only. Is way that as Kesslan see is right. Make hard is that Humans not as Pantheran are. Much easier say tell when Pantheran deserving is, or Deserving not is. Not so clear is when other race is most time in experience Kesslan of." the pantheran says to that looking away again. "Too old think I now is to change way much. Only learn in time, experience when warrant reaction is to human or other race. When first start speak with other human here did I. To Caliopa at ame did I go. Fix bike wanted I, and fix bike did Caliopa do but not before much wrong understanding was there. Reactions of Caliopa, Kesslan did not understand. Understand better now if not agree in whole. But accept I that ways of human different are."
Roulin keeps up the dance as he nods to Aimee. "But, if you removed it..." he pauses a moment before he whispers something softly to Aimee. A small grin on his face. "Just think about it...and don't tell them I said a thing." his voice just over the music.
Roulin whispers "Kesslan has never had a birthday party... /ever/."
Her eyes widen at the whisper and she gives him a look, conspiring. "I think about it..." She turns in his arms, obedient to the movements of the dance. "I think... I will go and perhaps ..." She lifts her mouth to his ear, whispering before turning from his arms, winding her way through the crowd towards the door.Tags:aimee, desmond, kesslan, roulin
