May 03 12:23:04 105 PA
From Chronicles
The current game time is: Sun May 03 12:23:04 105 PA.
You enter the smoke filled tavern called Moe's. Music blares from an ancient looking CD Jukebox. Inside is a collection of residents of Dregtown in varying states of intoxication. Juicers, Borgs, City Rats all sitting and drinking side by sde. Of course a few skulls roll from time to time but the Large bouncer standing by the door is over 7 feet tall and looks as if he means business. The places has a musty, old smell and the decor is dingy and yellowed with time. The red carpet on the floors is well worn and the paint is peeling off the walls. Still this don't keep the locals away as Moe's is a favorite.
The long bar, booths against the wall oppostite the bar, and the tables all seem very used, yet are strong...made of some reinforced material that's sturdy enough for the angriest juicer. A vid-screen behind the bar shows the JuicerBall game and the bar is packed with patrons clamoring for a drink...ya see there ain't no waitresses at Moes.
There is a smaller room to the back with a pool table. Not many people use the pool table on the count of the group of men, a few of whick are juicers, who usually play cards in the back room. Finally of interest in the bar is the video poker machines Moe' placed for your convienance. Winnings may be redeamed at the bar. There is also a bathroom door, a back door past the pool table and stairs going up and down behind the bar.
Mid-day and the bar has folks in it, having their lunch and some of them have started drinking. One of those, sat at the bar, her elbows on the counter, chatting to the barman, is Aimee. The light flirtation is easy going, almost routine, as she sips a bottle of beer in front of them. Her clothes don't stand out, her jeans old and worn, her shirt tied at the waist to reveal a line of skin. She laughs at something the man says, before tilting her head, to take a long swig of the beer.
The door jingles slightly as another wandering soul slips in, caught in the web of liquor and women. Sebastien is, as always, well-dressed and poorly shaven, giving off an air that some find roguish and others so very, very young. With a hop the white- and green-clad man takes a stool at the bar, brushing his wide-brimmed brown felt hat back off his head to fall tethered to his neck by a string, and he waves at the tender. "Rum and coke, light on the coke." It's been that sort of day. Running a hand through his hair, the young man peers at the bad before him and frowns a long moment, then sits straight and looks to the ends of the bar, the little dark corners where the big cat generally keeps himself.
Aimee turns her head, giving him a considering look with amused green eyes. "So pretty much a rum, no?" The words hold the same light teasing flirtation that she used with the barman, warm sympathy for a rough day in her face. "I think we met before, with Desmond?" She isn't certain, her forehead wrinkling a little in remembrance.
"Rum needs something to cut it," Sebastien replies evenly, glancing aside. And his glance is held a long moment by Aimee, a faint smile touching his lips. "I think so," Sebastien speaks slowly. "Yes." Firmer that time, elbows rising from the bar as the young knight blinks once and nods. The shadowy bar does odd things with the white lines of his face. "We crossed paths. You were going to the cat. You are not so easy to forget, mademoiselle," Sebastien speaks, and barks out a soft laugh. "Seems a lifetime ago, non? Is it tat you know where he is?"
A faint blush rises across her cheek bones and she smiles, dimples in her cheeks deepening. "Flattery will get you everywhere, monsignor." She turns on the stool, crossing her legs and giving him a thoughtful look. "I suspect he is off with Kess, they had plans to sort some things out." She nips her lower lip, catching it between her teeth for a moment before she lapses comfortably into french, "And I think you speak this too, heh?"
Kid slips in, having forsaken her drab duds for her glitterpunk garb. And she's here with purpose. Firmly set and determined, she will start her way off towards the bar, carefully moving past the lunchtime drinkers who might get in her way. Place like this is apt to be on the busy side this time of day. And what does she find when she nears the bar. "Aimee, girl!" The young woman sounds almost cheerful in this moment. Full of pluck and life for sure. She will go right up to the stool that Aimee takes up and will hop herself right on to the foot rest of it, balanced carefully with a hand on the bar behind her. Leaning in to give her a light peck on the cheek. She then glances to the side, noting Sebastien is there, nearby. Her cheer cools a bit, though all she does for him is a nod. Nothing more drastic for now.
"Mais oui, je le parle. Je n'ai pas vu une femme si belle depuis ... combien d'annees. Alors je me souviens de vous." Sebastien quirks an eyebrow and ahs happily as his rum and not-a-lot-of coke arrives, taking a long sip with relish. "Pity," Sebastien muses, "that-" he peers over his shoulder at Kid, doing a little double-take and laughing aloud. "I see my project has arrived. And how is our thin friend?" Sebastien asks of the Kid, leaning back a touch with a sparkle in his eye and a grin on his lips.
Sebastien pages: Of course I speak it. I haven't seen a woman so beautiful in ... I don't know how many years. So yes, I remember you.
The blush deepens enough to show and she replies, her lashes lowering over her eyes, as she replies in the same language, "Shockingly forward of you, and you are not so forgettable." Kid's arrival stops further comments and she leans back into Kid, tilting her head to rest it against the other woman. "Kid, honey..." She lapses back into american, and offers her a kiss, her eyes laughing. "Project, ma cher?" The question is to Kid, but her eyes move between the two.
Kid frowns slightly at Sebastien, his words openly confusing to her. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asks with all due bluntness and little in the way of tact. Far too keyed up for anything like that right now. Which, of course, leads her to turn and shout at the barkeep, "hey keep! Two bottles of brandy, one of vodka. The moderately good stuff!" Someone's stocking up. She looks at Aimee and smirks a little, leaning into give her a playful peck on the lips. "I dunno what he's on about. But if he knows what's good for him, he won't pull some shit like he did the last time I was around him." Her eyes narrowing as she slants a suspicious look towards Seb.
Sebastien nods once and smirks, tongue touching his lips mischievously. "Les duex lovers, star-crossed I think is the expression. Sometimes all it takes is the little nudge from above to bring people together." Sebastien laughs aloud and raises his glass in toast to the Kid, glancing aside to Aimee with mirth. "Is not life too short to waste on pomp and ceremony?"
Aimee 's eyebrows arch as she looks between the pair, "Ah the fop?" She questions, her eyes sparkling with amusement as Kid takes the hint, returning the kiss lightly. "Star crossed, but perhaps forever so." She reaches for her bottle, wrapping fingers around its neck. "Some ceremony is good, romance must always be fed with the rituals, non? Flowers, wine... music." The last is spoken with a teasing slant at Kid.
Seb's response only seems to bother Kid all the more. "Look, if you're another jackass that wants to butt into my personal life, keep the hell out of it cause no one asked you," she snaps. "Last time you tried to 'help' you made shit worse, so don't give me a reason, alright?" There goes her good mood. It lingers as she returns her attention to Aimee. "That stuff is for my personal stock. I expect the fucker to be coming after me eventually cause Cali went and put her foot in her mouth at just the wrong time to give him the wrong idea. But I'm sending his ass packing the moment he shows up. I'm done with his bullshit," she tells him. "Nothing changed since the last time we talked. He crossed the line." Not one ounce of romance there, no sir.
Sebastien tilts his head in a very 'you can't win them all' shrug and finishes his rum, dropping the glass on the counter and pointing a finger at the glass with a nod to the tender for another. "Children these days. Suit yourself." The young man's head turns left and right to a snap-crackle-pop of joints, and Sebastien muses again, mostly for Aimee's benefit, "I adore the music. Flowers are means to an end. They are not the most beautiful thing in the room, and never should be. Wine is just a part of good company. But the music, ah, j'adore."
"Your friend gave him the idea you are interested? I wonder where that came from..." The teasing lilt in Aimee's voice matches her eyes, the mood clearly light hearted today. The comments about music draw a light into those green eyes, and Kid's on and off romance is forgotten. "What types do you like? I love the blues, the jazz music..." She leans forward, her fingers playing absently with the bottle. "Do you sing, or play? Kid has talent with the keyboard, and writing..."
"Hey, fuck you man," Kid growls at Sebastien. "I don't need you talking down to me cause I want to run my own damn life. Bet you think you know what's best for me, don't you? You don't know shit all about me, so don't even try to pretend you do. What the hell is it with all these people who think they know how to run your life better than you do? Damn it." She doesn't even notice when the three bottles turn up on the bar until she's done with that. When she does, she hops down from Aimee's stool and pulls out some credits to pay. "I don't need this shit."
Sebastien is unphased, grinning a little at Kid. Sizing her up, more like, the thought written on his face that if he keeps this up he'll see the business end of whatever she's carrying. "I have this effect on most women," Sebastien speaks softly to Aimee, reaching his empty hands up and wiggling fingers at Kid. "So much so that I begin to wonder of the ones who do not explode. They tend to be certifiable." He loses the music question, eyes never leaving Kid.
She turns on her stool, reaching for her friend, "Kid, relax, he means nothing of it. You blow up..." She shrugs lightly, "And perhaps I should, if I am certifiable..." That is a laughing aside to Sebastien, her good humour undaunted. "Your bottles, Kid. You care to share or taking them home?" Her hand is, if allowed, touching the other woman's arm lightly, an offer for an embrace.
Kid slaps the credits on the bar and stares at Seb as she states, "Maybe if you acted like less of an ass, you'd have less of a problem," she states. "Try starting by not acting all high and mighty, like you know something about people you have no clue about." Then she starts snagging bottles, her duffle slid down from her back to hang off her shoulder. All the better to slip it open and start stuffing the bottles in. There are things in that bag that clink off the glass. Solid little objects, but other than the whip, she has no visible weaponry. She pauses after the second bottle. "Aimee, I'm not going to calm down. This ass has no right to call be a child for telling him to stay out of my life. He's not my goddamn father, after all. If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have said it. He said it, he takes what he gets. Maybe next time he'll think before he opens his fool mouth again." She delays accepting the embrace, stuffing the second, then third away. Once that's done, she accepts Aimee's offer, folding the other woman in a hug. "You can come over when ever you want for a nip, you know that, girl."
"My dilemma," Sebastien muses, watching the pair. "I get to choose. Crazy or wicked. It seems this is all I summon from the fairer sex." He snags up his second jolly rum, taking an even swig and unabashedly watching the pair embrace. Which makes him not the only man in the room to do so, but the most obvious about it. "But no. I am not your father. Were I you ..." Sebastien mulls it over, "would probably get a spanking. Perhaps to the great delight of those here. But this I am not. I am, shall we say, a concerned third party. And I wish only the best." He offers Kid a toast and a smile, leaning back on his stool.
Aimee sighs as she returns the hug tightly, tilting her head back to study the other woman's face. She presses a kiss, lightly, either side of Kid's mouth, "Oh Kid, comme ce, comme ça. But I'll come over and we'll hang out, perhaps a little dancing?" She studies her friend's face, a little worry rising in her eyes for a second before her lashes sweep down and conceal it. "Wicked? Me? Monsieur, I'm hurt..." The laughing, teasing shows she is not unaware of the picture they make.
Kid frowns darkly when she hears Seb's response, but she holds back her own long enough to tell Aimee, "Anytime, girl. Then we can get lit too." A little impish grin shared, the dual kiss seeming odd, but accepted without a flicker of concern. Then, she'll disengage to face Sebastien. "So which am I, you jackass? I don't care if you're concerned. All I know about you is that you're a meddler. And I hate meddlers who think they can poke their fingers in whenever they want to be 'helpful'. You know what usually happens then? Exactly what fucking happened the last time you tried to 'help'." Then she pauses and glances towards Aimee, deciding to clear that right up for her. "He was around when I was arguing with Ordo once. He decided to 'help' by using his fucking mind powers to lift me into the air. It didn't help. Then he tried to act like he didn't do shit. Fortunately Kesslan saw him at it, rather than let me think Ordo did it. So watch him, he's a sneak." She snaps her eyes back to the man. "But it seems he doesn't learn from his mistakes, trying to poke his nose in again where it doesn't belong." Her eyes narrow. "So tell me, have you been talking to the fucker too? Want to let me in on any bullshit you've been telling him?"
Sebastien grips his heart with his hands, appearing wounded! He leans back from the diminutive, abusive Kit, and explains, "Perhaps I was too ... literal in my ambition to bring two lonely souls together. For Ordo's sake, he and I get along just fine. He has always been quite kind to me when I have been in need. But on the subject of you we have never spoken." Sebastien headtilts and leans a little against the bar, feeling the warming effects of the liquor course through him. An elbow nudges Aimee there next to him as Sebastien hypothesizes, "So it appears I am the devil, non? The Kid I make wicked. I am undecided as to you just yet."
Aimee sighs a little, glancing between the pair, a small frown creasing between her eyes. "Psi powers, non? I think you are not the devil but misguided, to push Kid where she is better left to lead a path of her own." She keeps her arm around Kid, resting her head against the woman's shoulder, light affection. "And you, if you don't calm, I won't tell you about the dinner last night..." There is teasing there, humour in her eyes, along with something else. Something less fun.
"Then its obvious you didn't get shit about what was going on. I'm not a goddamn 'lonely soul'," Kid states plainly. "I was giving him a shot at hanging around with me, but he's screwed that up all on his own. He fucked up, I'm breaking it off. Don't bother dipping your nose into it again." She pauses as she glances toward Aimee. Perhaps about to say more, though she does note the something else in the woman's eyes. Her lips close and she eyes Aimee carefully. "Fine, its done," she states. Lifting her eyes towards Seb to add, "As long as he promises to keep out of my personal life. And stay out, cause after your dumbass antics, I don 't want you knowing anything about me. I don't abide by meddlers."
"Mademsoielle," Sebastien addresses formally, "never will I make a promise I cannot keep, but I will try." His scarred face dips in a nod to Kid, and he raves a dismissive hand at Aimee. "Not a very good one I am afraid. It got me a tattoo and a number in a computer somewhere in Chicago, and all I have to show for it is the ability to pass a woman a lighter from across the bar." He shrugs, and narrows his eyes at his rum. Two, already? It's noon!
Aimee returns the look steadily, her mouth curving into a smile at the response. "Bien fait! Any psi power is something fascinating..." She wrinkles her nose at him, a teasing gesture before she turns her face to Kid's ear to whisper in it, softly enough that unaugmented people may not hear it. "Kess turned me down, flat." That said, she leans on the bar, taking a swig of her bottle. "So, music, I think we were talking about."
Kid narrows her eyes at Seb. "Try real damn hard," she tells him before she finally lets it drop. She blinks as she snaps her head toward Aimee then, at that whisper. Her brows lifted, an obvious curiosity there. "You come over soon, girl.. " Yeah, she's interested now. "Music is a serious topic to me," she adds. "And I don't care much for half the company for talk about it." She's been toting around her keyboard for a bit, a few inches of the long instrument sticking out of her duffle(if I forgot to mention it before). Though she feels compelled to mention to Aimee, "I'm thinking about trying to make something.. you know, to sell."
"Listen," Sebastien speaks dismissively, "I will not ruin your lunch. Next time you will remember me, I think, and you may tell me who your jazz musician favorite is." Sebastien slips from his stool, giving Aimee a warm smile and Kid a wink. "Try to not have too much fun, girls. Au revoir, Belle." Sebastien slips some money from his pocket onto the bar to pay his tab, wobbling just slightly on two rums and an empty stomach, and as he turns his back he begins whistling gayly as he meanders towards the door.
"Au revoir, monsieur..." The amused murmur follows him towards the doors, "Kid, my love, you do drive off the most fun toys..." Softly spoken, giving Kid a laughing look. "So on, you plan to sell some stuff? You think I don't take music seriously enough?" The bottle is emptied, and she lifts a hand to summon more, or the barman, or both. "Bah, he was repairing my torn and tattered ego." She pouts at Kid, her eyes still laughing.
Kid has nothing let to say to Seb, though she doesn't look all that sad to see him go. "Fuck him," she responds back to Aimee with a lingering distaste. But she seems to leave it at that. "I was thinking about it.. I don't have anything made yet, but I have a few ideas.. I can make whole songs all by myself with the boards. And it wasn't you I was referring to. I'll talk about music with you any day, baby. And stroke your ego all you want." She grins impishly at that. "Who needs fucking men?"
"I do, apparently... but not all need me." Her expression is amused, her eyes still dancing despite the lurking something in the back of them. "Make some beautiful music, honey and call me? Let me listen to it?" She knocks back the bottle, tilting her head back to finish it in one. "Honey, I have to go and see Kelley. Trying to balance the boys, you know... fairness over all." She wrinkles her nose a little.
"Takes time, but you'll be one of the first to hear it, don't worry," Kid replies with a grin. Though she considers as Aimee talks of balance. "Playing the please everybody game? You be careful with that, girl. Just make sure you don't forget you when you're doing the pleasing, yeah? Cause that's the most important right there." She slips a hand over to give Aimee's a little squeeze. "I'll catch you later, yeah?"
"Then you can tell me some stuff," Kid adds, letting the grip slip, hand lifted in a little wave before the arm drops again. Musing Aimee as she leaves. Considering, Then turning back towards the bar. She should get a few more bottles before she leaves.
