Mar 05 05:51:01 108 PA - A Bear, an Offer, A Spice, and Daughters
From Chronicles
High wind and the threat of precipitation is an easy source of excuse when it comes to seeking solace within. It may factor into Jason's presence in the Alibi, but he moves through he is thoroughly invested in a small group of people whom he is casually entertaining with a minor feat of power. The table he's at has a few individuals shattering away as he casually causes a salt shaker to turn and spin in tight, circles. Too fast for the grains within to tumble out more often than not. He has a glass nearby, but for the moment he ignores it in favor of a light attention on the target of his telekinesis.
The gathering draws another face, traced with scars as Sebastien watches the show. "And for his next trick," comes the soft-accented voice, enriched by a smile at the lips, "he will walk under a ladder, and cross paths with a black cat!" His eyes narrow, and Sebastien leans in, "Unless..." He peers at Jason with those blue eyes, suspiciously. "Are you warding against faeries?" He whispers conspiratorially, "Are you plagued by the wee folk?"
Jason glances towards Sebastien as the man comes over to banter, a brow lifted slightly in answer to his query. "The pepper is far more hazardous if it gets away from me," he says simply. Though the shaker seems secure in it's tight revolutions, the hand lifted towards it done so casually. "What brings you here this morning?
"And yet considerably more delicious," Sebastien contests, eyeing the shaker. "I work nights. It's on the way home. I just had a chance to catch the bouncers roust the drunks who fell asleep in here, despite the music." He smirks and glances up at Jason, adding, "Sometimes you see some real fun, non?"
"I suppose that depends what we consider to be fun," Jason says, looking back to his casual toy. "It is amusing how some will let themselves be so disabled by drink. Unwise, but amusing." He makes a light downward motion which causes the shaker to drop to the table neatly. He then traces a few more times with his index finger, which causes the various condiments and articles on the table to shift here and there. A bit of a loose maze is formed, with the salt shaker sitting at the entrance on his side.
Sebastien notes with a grin, "Oh, generally the bouncers do win. And spectacularly! But I was here on one occasion that they went to roust a young lady who, as it so happens, was a dragon particularly adept at disguising her nature. Someone had loaded her up with a super-strength brew I think not even this place carries, and she was out of it. In the end, the dragon got an apology and the man who sold her the drugs, well." Sebastien shrugs, "Nobody found him. At least, nobody who'll talk about it. Maybe he's in Tolkeen now?" Sebastien's tone indicates that's fairly unlikely.
"Dragons. Another thing I have not seen before," Jason muses casually. "That would have been interesting." He lifts his finger then to point at the salt shaker. His eyes narrow and he starts to trace quick lines with that finger. The salt shaker snaps to with each motion, sliding precisely to each point. Through the maze in steps, the final flick at the end sending it skittering out of the far end of the maze and into the lap of the man across from him. It seems to amuse the others at the table who fall back to shatter and even one person applauds. Jason nods towards them quietly before he looks to Sebastien again. "I don't think Tolkeen is a place I would like to be, though perhaps once this battle has ended it will be more appealing. The midst of war is rarely a good place to be, despite it's leavings."
Sebastien idly reaches across the table, replacing the various bits and pieces of tableware and condiments to their original positions while wiping fallen salt up with the side of his hand. "Dragons are ..." He sucks in a breath, lips pursing and he blows out as he considers. "Like anyone else, I suppose. Put a man in body armor with a rifle in Kingsdale for thirty years and he may be you or me, but put that same man in a farming community where the next biggest weapon is a .38 special and you'll truly meet him. So it is with their kind."
Jason is content to allow Sebastien to clean up the results, some of the people around the table starting to peel off as Jason ceases his casual entertainment. "An easy statement to make, but I doubt the mind of a dragon is the same as that of a human. There are, perhaps, elements of similarity. Urges and drives that mingle. But one need not be utterly alien to be considered different. Indeed, If find the way many humans think to be somewhat alien to my own." It's morning and there aren't too many people about to begin with, this not being prime time for hte Alibi.
Bernard comes walking into the Alibi, offering just a touch of a yawn. He passes through security, having no weapons to hand over and starts his way across to the bar.
Having wandered her way towards the Alibi, Monique yet stands outside the establishments. The great white polar bear stands next to her, and he rumbles softly as he lowers his head to touch his nose to her shoulder. Lifting a hand, she lightly strokes her fingers over the bear's leathery nose, her expression thoughtful. Turning to face the great white bear, she reaches out to scritch his fur a bit, speaking quietly in her native tongue for a moment. Tornaq rumbles, glancing towards the Alibi before looking back to her, swivelling his ears a bit, but then he whuffs a breath and bobs a nod. Retreating from her, he settles on his rump not far from the entrance itself, seeming rather peaceful and calm albeit somewhat wary and watchful as well. Watching for a moment, Monique then gives a small nod and heads towards the entrance to step inside. Having weapons on her person means that she's kept at the doorway for a few minutes to check them in.
Sebastien, oblivious to the bear of a man, the bear of a bear, and the woman, continues, "Actually, I think they're more like us than you know. I've met some that were ... kind. Helpful. This city, in fact. The council has a dragon on it, I think?" He shrugs, "But also, I've met some that preyed on humans. Ate us for food. So either they're born this way, or nobody along the line taught them humility. I would not be afraid of fire if I could not be burned."
"I think time is not best spent arguing this," Jason opines then. "It would be better spent with what you wished to talk to me about before." He glances towards one of the stragglers at the table. Perhaps hoping for more tricks. But Jason shakes his head and motions for the man to begone. Takes a few moments of staring at him to get the man going, but then the table is empty again, save for Jason. "Unless this place is not suitable."
Bernard takes a seat up at the bar, makin a little gesture towards the barkeep, "A pint of your house beer, mate." he says in his accented English. His gaze casually wanders across the room now as he shifts and makes himself comfortable up at the counter.
Only once the guards have been satisfied that Monique has checked all of her weapons do they let her pass further and into the club. She pauses once she's been let to go, though, taking the time to look over those who are within it at this hour of day. It's not packed full, which suits her very well. The small Inuit woman starts to make her way towards the bar, for the momen by-passing Sebastien since he seems... engrossed in conversation.
"Alright," Sebastien replies, changing gears. "The story builds to a conclusion. "I am a fighter. Give me a horse and a pair of swords and I'll take the hill. I can defeat most rifle-carrying men I can get close to, and even have fair odds against powered armor. Once upon a time, there was a dragon that was eating livestock, farmers, that sort of thing. Now, this dragon fancied herself a sword fighter. In under a minute, I had this dragon licked with my swords. Adolescant, not a baby. Only, that was because it was fighting in human form, with swords. A teleport, a few healing spells later, and I met this creature again as a dragon. And then, quite frankly, I lost." Sebastien shrugs. "It's simple. I have no hard counter against the supernatural. I'm good, but I'm not great. I need to know a few people who can take that role. I was hoping you might be one of them."
Jason tilts his head slightly, considering Sebastien's words and letting him finish his story without interruption. As it ends, he is quiet a few moments more before he says, "I can't say I would be of great help. I've never battled a dragon before, obviously. And I am not sure if they are vulnerable to my particular talents. Though that is not a no, per se." It's morning at the Alibi and the place isn't too packed. Monique and Bernard are at the bar, while Sebastien is speaking with Jason at a table in the midst of the place.
Bernard casts a glance towards Monique as she approaches the bar, offering her a friendly little nod before his attention is pulled back towards the bartender as he brings over his drink. He offers just a little nod towards the man and gives him a "Cheers." In thanks for the drink.
Somehow the winter of 108 PA seems to continue gripping Kingsdale in its tight fingers, with the temperature still a good distance below freezing. At least it's not sleeting today. Gabriel enters the Alibi with a smile on his face, freely surrendering a large pistol out of one thigh pocket and his very unusual, very long-muzzled handgun to the weapon keepers at the door. As he is wont to do - and always seems rather odd to most - his snow gear consists of only a light overcoat, barely more than a drape of fabric that would make bed sheets laugh, and today a pair of thin white gloves that mesh with his overall winter color scheme. After pausing inside and looking around for a short time, he apparently decides to make the bar counter his target, beginning to move toward it. A few notable people are observed, but no one receives a full acknowledgement at the moment.
Sebastien laughs at that, "Listen, I'd never fought one before either! A dragon is an extreme example, but the theory is sound. I don't need someone to bring the hammer. I have that. I need someone who can confuse the enemy. Seperate them, keep them from ganging up on me or one of mine, keep spellcasters at bay. Perhaps by making them silent, or paralizing them, or ... any number of things I have no concept of." He peers at Jason, and smirks. "Or," he adds, giving a teasing look, "are you a terror of tableware?"
"I could likely accomplish some, if not all of those things you define," Jason replies to Sebastien. "The mind is something I can effect in various ways, though it isn't the limit of my prowess. And as with all who wield powers of the mind, they grow with time. Though one can rarely predict just what will come of time and experience."
The small Inuit woman is in no great hurry to reach the bar, catching snippets of conversation as she passes along the way. A glance is given Sebastien, for she does notice him there, she just doesn't want to interrupt on his conversation or on business if that's what it is. Yet once she's up to the bar, she waits patiently for the bartender's attention, doing nothing in particular to gain it faster and seeming quite patient. Monique lifts her left hand, idly brushing aside a bit of her hair while she waits, and once she has the bartender's attention, she makes an order for both food and drink, though the latter is non-alcoholic.
After retrieving and paying for another installment of "Donovan's Fizz," Gabriel leans against the counter. It's difficult not to notice Sebastien and Jason, and for some reason of acoustic anomaly, hearing them isn't difficult either. The conversation brings a smile to his face, but he remains at the bar, and remains primarily quiet. Except to Monique, who's sitting nearby, sans bear. Apparently they frown on giant animals. "Hello, little lady. Still enjoying winter, right?" he says with a grin in between sips of his bottle.
Sebastien nods once, curious. "Ever enlist?" He leans back, tilting his head before he decides he's got the wrong angle. "You don't have a standard-issue tattoo back there, do you?" He smiles at that, referring to the CS psi-registration. "Though, from what I remember, they didn't take too kindly to your kind 'round there."
Jason shakes his head slightly and says, "I'm not sure what you mean. But I am not from this area. So it is unlikely that I would say yes to what you ask. Though in terms of general military service, I have not seen it in an organized form. But I have been blooded and I have had extensive training in the use of my abilities." His hands lightly fold together atop the table. "Of course, one can always learn new means and methods. And yes, I have avoided direct contact with this Coalition since I heard of them, if that is what you mean."
Monique looks to Gabriel, and a smile comes to her features, and she gives a small nod, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. "Yes. Will be ended too soon. Enjoy winter very much," she says in answer to the question. It's not as cold as she would like it, nor as snowy, but she's learned to enjoy the shorter winters that Kingsdale has in comparison to those fo the North where she's from. "How you?" she asks, a gentle curiosity to her words. She waits patiently for her food and drink, the latter arriving first since it was just a glass of apple juice. She claims it, drawing it close and taking a little sniff of it before taking a drink of it.
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.
"No worse than a winter in Kentucky. Just unusually long. At least for my area, it's long. March should be warming up," Gabriel responds to Monique with a smile. "I didn't see Tornaq sitting patiently outside like a parent waiting for the doctor to give her child a shot for the measles. He off somewhere? Maybe up fishing?" Then, a rather odd, "I don't suppose you know which latitude you're from."
"That is a sticking point," Sebastien muses. "Listen, everyone I meet is an expert. Be they spellcasters, psychics, men at arms. But the one thing I've run into consistently as I've passed beyond these walls, is that there are some who understand what it is they're meant to do, and then there are some who, well. Have never served." He gives an apologetic look at Jason, and shrugs. "I tell you what. I want to build a little club. Do some cross-training, get together teams. So that the next time we go out on some job, everyone doesn't get their own idea and run off in a different direction. I want it to be practiced, smooth. That sound like something you might be interested in?"
"I did not say expert," Jason clarifies. "Experienced, but not an expert. I am still quite young, after all." Though for some reason saying that much amuses him lightly. He does consider Sebastien's offer for a few moments before he nods once and says, "It sounds acceptable. Though I will warn I may soon have a job here and while adventure sounds interesting, something more steady and relaxed may take priority. But I am sure both options can coexist well enough." Jason and Sebastien are at one table, speaking while Gabriel and Monique are at the bar, conversing. It's morning and the Alibi itself is lightly populated and relatively quiet.
"Winter longer, where I from, in North," Monique comments, a smile touching her lips. "Tornaq outside, little away from entry... I not want him get in trouble for keep business away, so he far enough not be bother but close enough be near," she says thoughtfully, giving a small nod. "He wait, always. Never far," she explains. Lifting the glass of juice, she takes another drink of it, then blinks a little as she looks to Gabriel, the last question confusing her. "Lat-i-tude?" she asks, unfamiliar with the concept. "I not understand."
Gabriel smiles. "No, no, I didn't suppose so. If I showed you a map, a map of the whole continent - all the land and oceans - would you be able to show me where you lived before coming here?" Sebastien's continuing comments receive a glance from the older man. Interested, in a strange way, disinterested in another. His bottle of Donovan's Fizz is tilted back again. "If I get a map, I can show you where we are right now, and where I come from."
Sebastien's head bobs. "I work at the hospital, over yonder." He points West, eyeing the wall, then works his finger South, frowning. "Well, somewhere over in that direction. I always get all turned around indoors. So. Mercenary work does not come every day, but it typically pays well enough. And like I said, this is a club. It's not a binding contract, you can leave whenever you like, take jobs on the side, I don't care. I just want a pool of people I've trained with when the time comes, you know? So perhaps not now, but soon, I'll get a couple of friends and we can try a little two-on-two force-on-force. Nothing too dangerous, just a chance to try some of this in action. See what works, what doesn't. What we lack, what we have." Sebastien smiles, "And then we can address what we lack."
With casual ease, Sage steps into the club before closing the door behind her. It doesn't take long for her to turn in what she isn't allowed to carry and what she doesn't want to carry before she moves further into the club. Her gaze drifts around a little to consider who's about but her goal seems to be reaching the bar for the moment.
"Non-lethal then," Jason replies with a casual nod. "Very well, then. If nothing else, it should prove a suitable exercise and a further aid to honing my talents. Money is useful, though one of the things I do not seek with the gusto of some I have met now and again."
Monique tilts her head to one side, studying Gabriel, and then she gives a small nod. "Yes. Can show," she affirms, a smile touching her lips. "Know am very south from where started, in North. If have map, can show where from," she says, her dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. Her food comes, proving to be of a breakfast nature and also quite a bit of food. She's probably been on one of those ill-fated hunting trips that netted her nothing for her trouble. Bacon, scrambled eggs, breakfast sausages, pancakes with butter and syrup, and a piece of ham as well. The food seems to delight her, and she claims one of the strips of bacon in her fingers to take a bite of it.
"Non-lethal?" Sebastien asks, sounding a little put-off. "If you smack me, I'm going to smack you right back! They're going to be training rounds! And light guns!" He straightens, repeating to himself, "Non-lethal." He grins, and glances back at the bar, wondering, "Do you want a --," his voice trailing off. "A um." His eyes narrow a touch, and then he smirks. "Excuse me," he utters, not looking back as he wanders through the tables, aiming to angle up and approach Monique from behind.
With a light glance and inventory of Monique's meal, Gabriel comments, "It must be difficult trying to catch a meal somewhere that you've never been, and don't know what kind of game you're hunting." He pokes his chest gently with his free index finger. "I've set foot on just about everything on the globe that would support a man's weight. Waded through the areas that couldn't, and swam in the lakes and oceans of the rest. If you'd want to, I could show you what to look for down here, even when the snow's gone and Spring comes." It come off - or should - as a statement of absolute fact, no bragging. Sure, it's exaggeration... or maybe not. Gabriel's attention is primarily on Monique, only lazily at Sebastien and Jason. At the moment, there is apparently no attention left in his attention-bucket to really dispense anywhere else.
An outburst draws her attention to the table with Sebastien and Jason, giving Sage a faintly amused look at what she sees. She lifts a hand to wave to Jason before deciding to pass further long without getting ensared in whatever conversation they're talking about right now. Another glance brings the other two she knows to her attention, who also receive a wave. Then she wanders up to the bar to order herself a drink.
Jason arches a brow slightly as Sebastien wanders off, but seems content to let him do so for the time being. Though with the shift of his attention to follow the man, he notes Sage on her way towards the bar. He dips his head towards her in a quiet greeting. Though quieter still is the light brush of his thoughts. < Good morning, Sage. > For now, he lingers at his table.
Monique gives a nod of agreement to Gabriel's words, then munches the rest of the strip of bacon before licking her fingers. "Yes. Harder, not impossible. Tornaq help, too. This morning not good luck. Hunt whatever can kill and eat. Fish sometimes, but not try this morning. Know some tracks -- rabbit, deer. Similar in North, but ground different, trees different," she says, wrinkling her nose slightly. There are trees, for one thing, and in the North it's a lot of open tundra. "You tracker?" she asks, one of her eyebrows raising slightly, her tone proving her interest. Another piece of bacon is claimed, and she takes a bite of it, munching with a measure of contentment on it.
"'morning, Sage. Come wandering into a moderately-classy nightclub for an ironically-timed breakfast? Or maybe just trying to ward off a hangover with a bit o' the creature?" Gabriel grins as he does, more of a wide smile with a touch of tooth. Healthy teeth. However, Monique's question seems to stump him for quite some time, his eyes looking far into a distance that doesn't exist within the club. After a while, his mouth bends into a smile again, and glad life comes back to his eyes. "Yes, you could say that. I'm definitely a tracker. I can track anything just about anywhere. Even in cities." Wink.
Sebastien frowns at Monique from his position behind her, and raises a finger to his lips to hush Gabriel over her shoulder. He leans aside then, peering at her plate, and waits patiently. Oh so patiently, for Monique to look up. The moment she does, a bit of bacon sneaks off her plate as if it had a mind of its own, flicking about into Sebastien's hand as he watches. Her remaining supply has been cut in half!
When Sage's drink arrives, its hard to tell whether its an alcoholic drink or not. It clearly has some form of fruit in it, however. << Good morning, Jason. >> She replies simply to the telepathic greeting before glancing towards Gabriel. "Came by to drop something off, actually." She comments before producing an envelop to hand over towards the bartender. "For Aimee." She comments simply before looking to Monique. "Perhaps you should ask him to find something that would prove he can live up to that claim." She comments with a little grin. Jason is content, for now, to linger at his table. But h is attention settles towards the others at the bar. Quietly observing. And noting that trick by Sebastien in particular with a slight quirk of his lips. An addition to the lightly amused expression he wears, whilst relaxing in his chair.
The small Inuit woman tilts her head slightly to one side as she studies him for a lingering moment, munching her way along the strip of bacon. It's gone within only a couple more bites, and she licks her fingers again. Her dark eyed gaze holds on Gabriel for a moment more, as though considering him, and then lowers to her food, considering what remains on her plate. It would seem that she's a minimalist in regards to just how much she uses silverware, grabbing up a link of the breakfast sausage between her fingers instead and taking a bite of it. Yet she blinks once and turns her attention back to her plate, and the remaining one slice of bacon where there had been two. Her brow furrows, and she takes another bite of the breakfast sausage even as she seems perplexed over the vanishing bacon. She looks around the plate, moving it around a bit to be able to see under the edges of it. Then she looks to the floor, though how it could have ended up there is beyond her. Looking to Sage at the suggestion, one of her eyebrows quirking upwards slightly. "Is good idea. What good challenge to have find to prove?" she inquires, curiosity to her voice.
Gabriel allows a small frown over Monique's shoulder, but knowing that they seem to be friends, also allows it to pass - for a moment - as a good trick in jest. "Are you asking what would be a challenge to have me prove that I can track things? That depends more on how badly something doesn't want to be found than its natural ability to wander around. For instance, I can follow a woman carrying groceries home from store to her front door without even looking. If I'm trying to follow a man - particularly without being seen myself - in a crowded city? That's much harder. Animals? The raccoon leave tracks, but it's probably the smartest animal out in the woods."
Sebastien grins at the 'Nique, easing back from the counter. His eyes meet Gabriel's again, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and the young man disappears into the crowd at a good pace. He emerges from the club into the morning air, that bit of bacon held before him as a divining rod, off to feed it to Tornaq, apparently. Still trying to bribe his way into the bear's big fuzzy heart.
Since the Inuit and the young knight seem to be friends, Sage doesn't seem to pay their interaction much mind. She's seen Sebastien act much stranger, after all. She briefly considers the departure of the man before turning her attention back to the people at the bar. "Sounds like he's admitting he might not be the best tracker around to me." She comments with a teasing tone before taking a sip from her drink.
Jason stands and smiles faintly as he approaches the bar. "Perhaps one day I can challenge him to find me," the young man offers. "It might be a suitable contest to entertain. And good practice no matter the results." He comes to a pause near to the three remaining, his hands lightly folding behind himself. "Though I shall have to secure a better variety of clothing before such comes to pass."
The comment from Sage makes Gabriel grin a little, and shrugs with solemn honesty. "I don't recall *ever* having claimed to the be the best at *anything.* I've said that I've been *doing* things for a very long time, I admit to that. But I don't think that I've claimed to be the best at anything. Though I'd like to think that I've always been the best father." He looks between the two women with a smile, and Jason with another quirked eyebrow and a mild shake of his head. Nothing offensive of course, but only a small dip of his head in greeting.
"Some things not care if found. Items not have means for care. People care," Monique muses, her tone holding a thoughtful cast to it. She takes another bite of her breakfast sausage, the last bite for that link, then licks her fingers. Reaching then to the pancake on top of the stack, she uses her fingers to tear off a bite sized piece and munch on it. "We go hunt together sometime... compare what you see, what I see, what Tornaq know," she says thoughtfully, giving a small nod. She lifts one of her shoulders in a small shrug, a smile touching her lips. "Best not easy make measure of, for many skill," she says, then tears off another piece of pancake to munch on.
Sage nods faintly to the comments being offered before glancing towards Gabriel, offering a shrug herself. "We can only try to do well at the things we like." She comments, "Although, if you are truly interested in learning more about psychics... it might be better to simply ask than get on a rant about how you still feel out of place." She comments, "And... well, let's just say I wasn't impressed by most of what you said the other day in the coffeeshop." She mentions, "At any rate, its water under the bridge and I think Monique's suggestion is suitable." She smiles faintly to the other woman before glancing towards Jason. Yet, she doesn't seem to have much to say before taking a sip from her drink.
Jason nods his head slightly to Gabriel in return. "Very well," he replies, assuming the nature of the headshake. "But if you're ever interested in some friendly competition, the offer stands." He looks to Sage then and arches a brow slightly. "He did ask me a few things later in the day," he notes. "And I am ever willing to discuss such matters if he gains more in the future."
Monique tilts her head slightly to one side as she looks from one to the other of them, feeling rather as though she's missed something. Namely, whatever it is that happened in the coffee shop. She blinks a bit, but her attention returns to her food, and another piece of pancake is torn free and then munched on, followed this time by licked fingers. Claiming her glass of juice, she lifts it to take a sip of it, then replaces it to the counter. Choosing to pay attention to her food and sate the hungry belly beast.
Monique isn't the only one. The older man looks genuinely confused at Sage's words. Perhaps age is finally catching up to him? There's certainly no recognition in his eyes as he says, "If I.. said something to offend, I'm sorry. I would never intend to do that. I like to think of you as a close friend, and I know that I don't have issue with you or anything that you do. I was saying to someone the other day that I actually feel quite normal around here at this point. That is, things don't usually surprise me anymore. But I'm sure that you want to hear about it just as much as I want to talk about it" Gabriel grins gently and nods. Jason receives another polite nod and, "Thanks for the offer, I'll be sure to keep it in mind." The little Eskimo only receives a short jest. "I guess we should be happy that you aren't stabbing about your plate with a bone knife?"
Since Monique wasn't there, Sage glances towards Jason before nodding faintly to the comment about the man having asked questions. Then she glances to Gabriel, "I may have misinterpreted some things as well." She comments before shrugging faintly, "Then again, you do say a lot... so it is sometimes hard to keep track of everything." She adds in a teasing tone before smiling faintly and shaking her head.
Sebastien thumps into Monique from behind, arms wrapping about the woman's shoulders as his nose nestles down into her ear. "You should be glad she's not poking about you with her bone knife!" he declares. "Vicious cannibals, all." Sebastien eases a touch away from the Inuit, peering down to smirk at the woman, grinning. His right hand smells suspiciously like bacon.
Jason grins at Gabriel and nods his head once, then he looks to Sage with a light, "We should talk soon. But for now I should away. I have spent much of my morning idle and I did have some sights to see. Meditation to pursue." He lifts his eyes towards Sebastien on the man's return, then speaks a general, "Good day to you all." With that he turns, starting towards the door.
"I not allowed keep knife. Guards make give when come in. Would use if had, but use fingers instead," Monique comments, casting a glance of minor disgruntlement towards the guards in question. She likes her bone knife. She helped make it, if helping to kill the beast the bones are from can be considered helping. She looks to Sage for a moment, considering what the woman says, and then she reaches to tear another piece of pancake. She's at least not making a sticky mess out of herself. As Sebastien impacts with her, she stumbles a little and gives an 'ack' of surprise. Turning her head to look over her shoulder at him, her dark eyes narrow a little bit. "You smell like bacon," she points out, eyeing him a little closer. "Not cannibal. If cannibal, you not be alive tell tale," she points out, then sticks her tongue out at him.
Gabriel returns Sage's tease with a wink and a joke. "I had twenty-four children. There was a lot to say! Old habits are hard to break, y'know." Jason's departure is met with a polite and succinct, "Bye." As for Monique and Sebastien, they are left momentarily to their own spat. They're like love-struck teenagers, so trying to get a word in edge-wise is sometimes a waste. But you can't help but smile a little.
Sage chuckles softly to the man's own joke, "Fair enough." She comments before pausing to glance around the club. At a particular table her gaze pauses, "Excuse me, I think I see someone I recognize." She comments before making her way over towards that particular table.
Sebastien doesn't let her stumble far! The young man straightens a touch at the accusation, the offending hand sneaking down Monique's arm and away from her nose as he sputters, "I -- I smell like bacon?" He blinks and looks over Monique's shoulder at Gabriel, "See? Cannibal!" He peers down at Monique, and wonders, "How could you say such things?"
"I not eat person yet. Always could start. Tornaq dig holes, when asked," Monique points out, smiling sweet as honey at Sebastien. Not that she would ever hurt him, mind you, which is a fact he well enough knows. "I say it because it true? You smell like bacon," she states simply, then gives a small nod as though to emphasize that fact. She brings her attention back to her breakfast in progress, eating the last of the first pancake and tearing a piece of the next one along. She blinks a little and looks to Gabriel. "Twenty four? I not know meaning of this," she says, her brow furrowing a bit. She probably doesn't understand that it's a number.
Gabriel has had twenty-four opportunities to explain numbers to those who can't read or write. He starts by holding out a hand, five fingers (well, four and a thumb) spread and poking each one in turn, after an explanation, "Each time I touch my finger, that's one child." Then holds up both hands, blinking them twice. Then... taking her wrists gently and spreading all of her fingers - even the bacony, greasy ones - and spreading all of his in front of them, bending only one thumb in. "Each one of those fingers and thumbs is a child. I had many children, but they we're all my own. Most weren't my own, but adopted, because they needed a family. I've been to places in the world that this would be an entire village." That ends with a nod and a smile.
Wuh-oh. Sebastien's got that look. Like he's got a better toy than 'cannibal' to play with. He kisses the side of Monique's head and slips away, glancing at Gabriel. "Children --" and then he glances at Gabriel, lowering his hands and pouting. "I was going to imply that your wife had been ..." He widens his eyes, straightening a touch, "Bountiful! Well, no matter." The young man leans towards Monique, suggesting, "What do you say, you and I, we have twenty-five? Just to show him up?" He peers at Monique and winks.
And now, with Monique, he has a twenty-fifth opportunity. Monique can neither read or write, and understanding English is a challenge enough without numbers being tossed in to complicate things. But she listens attentively as he explains, giving a small nod. Though by the time he's finished counting out (to which she loans her hands fairly readily, after a quick lick on one finger), her dark eyes are a little wide. "Many oneses!" she exclaims. She looks from Gabriel to Sebastien once, then a second time, and then she blinks. "I not even have one, oneses... twenty-five oneses is many many!"
Without words, Gabriel retrieves a small 3x3 inch color photograph from a jacket pocket as if it were a magic trick. It's held up for all to see. Him, clearly, in a nice suit, with an even shorter woman leaning against him, in a classic 1940s bolero and skirt with exceptionally long and completely black hair winding down the back of her neck, then wisped around to run down her chest; an ample chest. Behind, next to, and in front of him are, in fact, twenty-four girls, aged roughly ten to early twenties. Everyone looks quiet happy. They range from tall to short, tubby to thin, blonde to brown haired, just about every different human descriptor save significant skin color differences are represented. As he goes through their names, poking at his wife (obviously) Natasha first, their names are clearly from a variety of regions, though today in Missouri it's unlikely that it would be noticed. Then... there are some boys, and some of the girls holding their own babies. Five, total. It's also made clear which three of them are his by blood, and only lightly that none of them are blood to Natasha. "A very happy family - and yes, I'm a grandfather, too, Sebastien, I know you're waiting to make a joke. Maybe now you understand why I hurt every day that I don't have my old life and wish it otherwise. There's a lot to be missed."
"Actually," Sebastien comments, peering at the picture, "I wasn't. I was just thinking -- with that many children, and that man grandchildren, it's entirely possible that some lineage has survived." He shrugs then, and laughs once. "But as they're all girls, they've lost your name. So it would be hand to say for sure. And, I think, it would require quite the field trip to find out."
Monique lifts her clean hand to brush a bit of her hair from her face, looking to the picture that Gabriel has brought out. She peers at it rather intently, listening to the names and such that are listed and the explanation offered. She looks between the two men at the mention of losing a name, and she blinks out of utter confusion. "I not understand. I confused," she says softly, her brow furrowing a bit. Confused doesn't prevent her from eating, though, and she snags another of the sausage links to take a bite of it.
A smile. "Yes, a name. Some people have more than one name. I have two. Gabriel is my first name, Blaze is my second name. All of the people in my family who came before me share the last name Blaze. When I was around, women took on the second name of their husband, when they married." His grin splits widely and he touches on Natasha's form again. "She had *seven* names." The appropriate number of fingers are displayed. Then, after slipping the photograph back into the pocket from whence it came, Gabriel responds to Sebastien with a curious thing. "I'd like to think that the kids and their kids their kids after them lived long and happy lives that spanned many generations." He then waves an all-encompassing hand over his head. "But I don't know that I'd wish this world on them." He looks at Monique and Sebastien then with a wide grin. "When I left my time, there was a Soviet woman who had had sixty-nine children." He flashes the appropriate number of fingers. "All true. Pregnant twenty-seven times. They made awarded her the 'Order of Maternal Glory, 1st Class' seven times! You see, the Soviet military doctrine was victory through overwhelming brute force, not the well-thought strategy and efficient tactical movement of NATO. Fortunately, as far as I know that contest was never tested."
Sebastien eases up, and shrugs. "Well, I'm not sure that their all dying is a cheerier thought. I'm still enjoying myself!" He grins at that, and glances at the 'Nique, before eyeing the door. "Anyhow. Bedtime, I think. Enjoy yourselves!" He raises a hand in a wave, before pointing an accusatory finger at Monique, uttering, "NO eating people! I'll be watching." He nods then, and backs away, making a cautious escape."
