Mar 09 18:02:41 105 PA
From Chronicles
Mon Mar 09 18:02:41 105 PA
In the warm comfort of Happy Days Inn's foyer, Dr. Kelley sits at a table clearly meant as an outdoor cafe for the Silver Fork. He has a large vanilla sundae sitting before him on the tabletop, and a bundle of papers in his hand, that he keeps ticking away at various points with a large black pen. He appears deep in thought, though not deep in concentration. His hood is laying back on his shoulders, and a large backpack site beside him on the ground.
The Happy Days. Home of the Nightingale. It's no Ivory Lady, but it will have to do. Sebastien arrives early, chatting briefly with the hotel desk clerk and taking a quick look into the nightclub before eyeing the good doctor. One of these days he'll find out what the man is a doctorate of. Stepping around a seated couple, Sebastien approaches and raps the table at which the doctor sits before extending a hand to the man. "Hello, doctor."
Kelley continues through a few pages before looking up from his work, whatever that may be. "Hello, Mr. Sebastien, how do you do this fine evening? Please, sit," he says as he pushes the opposite chair out with his leg. "I'd been hoping that I'd run into you. How's the Cyberknight business these days?"
Taking his seat at the opposite end of the table, Sebastien runs a hand through his close-cropped hair and scratches idly at his beard, taken somewhat aback. "I am not sure what has been told to you," he replies evenly, folding hands before him. He looks a bit tense at the naming of his profession, and pats his chest. "No armor. I am no knight. It's true, I did train under Sir Lucas Barber, but I'm afraid I cannot claim that title, nor should you use it."
"Really? How interesting, Mr. Sebastien. You certainly know how to pick a fight, though, don't you. That poor young lady was ready to zap you last night!" Kelley chuckles briefly, his warm eyes laughing at some inside joke. "I'm sorry," he says, "I don't mean to be rude, Mr. Sebastien. May I get you something to eat or drink? I come here often, and am on pretty good terms with the staff here." As if to prove it, he leans forward and scoops a bit of sundae into his mouth. "It's really quite good.."
Sebastien peers aside a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he holds a moment of silence. His lips press together in a vaguely wistful expression before he chuckles, and nods. "I love a good fight. Not so much the people getting hurt," he amends, "but the theater of it all. The contest first of wills and then minds and then bodies." He smiles at the suggestion of a thing to consume, but keeps talking. "I have spent most of my life trying to see that next thing coming. To know what will be and to tweak it, ever to gently, into something better. Like now, it is unsafe to travel, yes? So trade is being cut off. Farmers horde food and enter the city. Soon we will face famine and unrest in our dregs. How are our neighbors doing, I wonder? And how soon will it be too late?"
"Funny that you should bring that up," Kelley says. "I run an adventure group called the Vogon Constructo Fleet - I think that I mentioned this to you last night. We will be traveling to Laramy at our earliest possible convenience. We have recently lost one of our headhunters to.. free agency, as the ancient gladiatoral battle league of the NFL might have put it. So, if you are interested, I would be happy to take you on as a trial member, and if you do well - and you desire it - take you on as a full, permanent member. The danger is great, but so is the payout. I work directly for NTI - NewTech Industries - and they have agreed to refit and repair any armor/weapons/etc lost in combat, in exchange for first crack at alien technology. Which really means first crack for us, as well, since I'd be doing the science on it as their senior scientist. In any case, we need another man-at-arms, having only the MOM Zaphod currently as our only 'true' warrior - though I can certainly hold my own in a battle," he says in one lengthy breath.
Sebastien bobs a head and raises his eyebrows. Hm. Stationed with the crazy man. "I may have met this man," Sebastien considers slowly, brow furrowing with the recollection. "He must be recent. He seemed very cogent." Sebastien licks his lips once and nods. "Yes, of course. As I mentioned before, I would be honored to join. Your magic users, although capable I am sure, well." Sebastien laughs, "What you need are shock troops, and they tend towards nuance. I can keep these monsters off of you. Even if I have to go out and wave the red cape and induce them to charge." Oddly enough, he seems serious about that last bit.
As shades of Kaomas rush through his mind at the man's comment, Kelley begins to feel slightly apprehensive toward Sebastien. "Well now, Mr. Dubois, was it?" I hardly feel the need to have someone running around with a red cape, attracting attention to ourselves. We want to protect and serve, but not to the point of suicide. That's what happened to our previous headhunter. He wasn't - and isn't - a team player, and that's what we need - team players. A team is only as good as it's weakest link, and all that, you know." He scoops up another spoonful of ice cream and then pointedly asks, "Are you a team player, Mr. Dubois?"
Sebastien pauses and smiles. "How is it that I described what I would be doing?" he asks lightly, looking somewhat amused. "My job is to keep the dinosaurs, the robots, the whatevers off the mages. Away from the soft underbelly of the team, that they might do their work from afar. I get in and I mix it up not to slay the beast but to keep it at bay." He shrugs, elbows touching the table as he conspires in a lower tone to the good doctor. Bright eyes flash through his lashes. "This is not to say I am incompetent in wounding such a beast. But I understand that this is not my primary job. I keep the team safe. And a safe mage left to his own devices is a dangerous animal indeed."
