The little scientist woman smiles at the one sitting across from her. “Oh yes indeed I am, you’ve a sharp eye good sir! May I have your name? You may call my Sarah if you please.” she got her coffee a moment later from the waiter and sips it, nose scrunching. “And, I must say, that’s quite the mask you’ve got, don’t think I’ve seen it any shops, may I inquire as to where you’ve acquired such an adornment?”
The owl narrows it’s dull yellow eyes at the American, hooting in the ominous manner all owls do. The scientist looks over towards the American, too, and smiles rather in a merry manner. “Hello good sir, do ignore my owl’s looming, he’s just a tad cranky is all!”
The man would pause, eyes practically darting towards the newcomer and owl. They’d then slowly tread back to the two and he’d sip his tea. When he spoke, his voice was as smooth as silk. “Nothing interesting, really. You see, when I received him, he put up a bit of a fight, despite being a tiny kitten–” the Siamese kitten gave him a stare from where he stood. “-- a tiny but glorious kitten. I earned his respect by capturing him and decided to name him Caesar based on his consistent gloating as well as his dominance amongst the other kittens and cats. Well, kittens.” He’d pause once again to take another sip. “I doubted we would have remained partners had I named him Mr. Fluffington, though.” He’d give a smile.
The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile and she calls a waiter over. The servers all look very tired and as if they’ve been rushing around. “Newspaper please, if you have any left that is.” She then picks up her cup and upon seeing it empty calls the server back again. He grimaces but asks her what she wants. “I would love a refill on my chai thank you, extra sugar and spice.” As the waiter leaves she redirects her attention to the man in front of her. “Ah, yes, I find kittens like that to be so, umm,” she glances at the kitten once more “Wonderful, yes, that was the word I was looking for.” “They’re adorable but, ah, don’t lack any smarts. Some kittens can be hard to handle, especially the starveling cats, but they know so much that it’s most certainly worth it and of course I’m sure your kitten is much more intelligent than the average kitten.” She winks at the kitten and looks for the server in case he has her chai and papers.
He’d shrug. “Caesar is pretty quiet.” There was a momentary awkward silence as they waited for the server. “However, enough of kittens and cats. What adventures have you had of late?”
“As of late?” She thinks for a moment and seems to hesitate before replying. “Ah, well, I’m working on finding a ‘stiff drink’ for the widow, not that she may receive it and I’m proceeding through my search of finding who murdered my brother, while the ways down this road are awfully ‘sweet’ I wouldn’t say they’re legal…” She pauses again but seems less worried and and decides to add on a bit more. “I’m also thinking of becoming a watcher for the constables, they can’t tell whether you’re really loyal to them or not. Not to say that I haven’t found many well educated ones, smart, kind, really love what they do but they understand that watchers can be a bit shady.” She taps her fingers lightly on the wooden table of the cafe before asking you what you’ve been working on.
The American laughs. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I’ve known my share of cranky birds. But it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen an owl, especially one so fine as this!” In fact, the last time they’d seen an owl was in a honey dream, when one had counseled them to find a ghost with a wedding band.
The scientist looks over to the American and gave a quiet, amused snort. "Well, I paid quite the coin to get this beauty, so I expected the best I could get! I was was not disappointed, dear Soobrah here has given me quite the help in my work, if not for his mood swings he could be absolutely considered perfect! And he keeps the rats back too, wasn’t in the ‘package’ I was told about, but a pleasant bonus none the less!" she hummed happily. The owl fluffs up his feathers in a rather happy manner at the compliments, seeming less cranky now that he was being complimented.
edited by Saravine on 10/3/2015
The American rolled their eyes. “Would that were the case in my apartments. My Lou, he’s a marsh-wolf, but a tamer creature you’ll never meet. One time I found him bound up and being menaced by some RFs.” The American looks back at the owl with a smile. “And we all have our moods now and then, eh, Soobrah?”
“Oh dear, poor thing.” she looked vaguely concerned and pauses. “I’d give a suggestion to scare them off, but honestly having a giant owl atop my head is enough to scare any ratty bastards away from me.” she giggles. “But perhaps a few cats around may scare them off?”
Soobrah blinks and hoots in agreement. “Oh dear, Soobrah’s making friends, how cute, he doesn’t normally get this nice. Then again, most people don’t spoil him with compliments like I do.”
“For myself, I have been establishing the reputation of my Salon, and it’s surprisingly exhausting work,” the red-haired woman remarked. “If you will excuse me, I am too exhausted to be decent company, and will bid you all good night.” She rose to her feet. From the darkness beneath the table at which she sat, a large Bengal tigress rose to her feet as well. The pair slowly wanted through the cafe and out the door, vanishing into the night.
"My name is Decro (Deck-row), Decro McQuin, pleasured to meet you. Yes it’s true you won’t be able to buy a mask like this in London, but after having it for some time you might decide you didn’t want it. I travel a lot around the zee with a Captain I know, or rather the son of a captain I knew, and I once found this thing while beach combing in Wither. It was a pleasant thing and it could help me in my line of… "work" but you see the problem is I can’t get the d___ed thing off now. Must be cursed or some other strange Zee-thing, but it certainly is a nuisance."
At that moment Lenore, a devious looking raven, returned from his promenade and landed on Decro’s shoulder.
"Oh, and here is my avian companion, Lenore this is… I’m terribly sorry I don’t believe I caught your name."
edited by DecroMcQuin on 10/4/2015
He’d bid the red-haired woman goodbye then look back at Udorie. He’d cross his arms, thinking for some time. "Well, I’ve recently come back from the dead, but only to be shunned to the tomb-colonies in exile due to outrageous amounts of scandal. Nevertheless, I got out of there. I published a few books and pulled some strings and got into the Shuttered Palace. Currently, I am openly writing a short story that can only be surpassed by Shakespeare rising From the grave to rip the spires of the Bazaar." He’d chuckle. "I work as a detective and archaeologist but they’re only hobbies and-" He’d lower his voice to a whisper. "I do them d___ed well as long as the Duchess doesn’t know." He’d lean back, knowing or moreso guessing he’s provided her with enough information to gain her trust. He’s order a refill of mint tea as soon as the Waiter arrived.
edited by VS on 10/4/2015
edited by VS on 10/4/2015
edited by VS on 10/4/2015
The server comes by and hands her the daily newspaper and a cup of chai. “Oh! You’re in the shuttered palace, I’m in the court and I’m also on my last step towards being kicked out. Can’t say I’m not shaken up, I don’t know how people handle the court or how the dunces in the court even manage to get in.” She cringes for a moment realizing what she’s been saying. “Ah, I mean, that some aren’t good.” She pauses for a moment to acknowledge what you had said. “I haven’t died yet but I’ve been exiled a few times. The tomb colonies are such a very dreary place and the thought of them makes me shudder. I’ve obviously been exiled for being extremely scandalous but I was also exiled while writing a play. It was heart-warming but apparently the Prime Minister, it’s honestly not my fault a nymph landed on him, didn’t like it.” She snickers a bit but quickly clears her throat and fixes her gaze on you. “How do you like the palace?”
He’d seem to be listening intently. “I too, have found myself in rather scandalous positions.” He’d wink. “I wrote a novel about a dishevelled chemist who tries to get into the Court-- but ends up getting executed. Had I not added that ending, I believe I wouldn’t be here.” He’d wait a few seconds before answering. “Dreadfully boring, though I can’t deny the gossip is wonderful. The rising artists and models aren’t too bad either.” He doesn’t mention that he prefers more austere institutions. It would surely ruin his Bohemian career.
She turns back to face the masked fellow. “Same to you mister McQuin! Always good to meet new faces.” she smiles in a friendly sort of manner, listening to him and tilting her head. “Oh? My my, that’s… Well that’s no good, if you don’t mind my inquiry, how long have you had that thing graphed to your face?” she tilts her head slightly.
“Oh? Sharalin Vorcast, though many in the scientific field know my as Sarah, use whichever suits your fancy sir.” she smiles at the bird. “A lovely raven you have, seems a tad sinister.” she motions to the owl on top of her hat. “This is Soobrah, don’t mind him if he glares, he’s not quite friendly at first meetings sadly.”
“Hmm, bohemians? You’re a poet correct, that makes sense.” She takes a long gulp of her chai. “Bohemians are all right, I honestly can’t stomach honey though, too many bad memories and I used to enjoy wine but now it only reminds me of honey. Being exiled in the tomb colonies changed me a lot, but seeking vengeance and meeting the cage-keeper changed me more. I do however enjoy the great game and there are many bohemians there, that’s obviously because it’s located in Veilgarden.” She hums for a moment, “Ah yes, I’ll most certainly become a watcher. I think it’s just in my nature. Do you enjoy poetry? I love poetry, but I think I’d be too argumentative to be hired in the profession of writing.” She smiles a bit. “What do you normally write about?” You notice that she has a book tucked into the folds of her coat, the writing in it looks like gibberish, it’s not in the vernacular language and while she has a heavy German accent, it doesn’t seem to be written in German either.
(I just became I watcher a few minutes ago actually. Finally."
((Wee! Congrats. I’m aiming for journalist then author because Vincent has no interest in helping the Constables. :P))
Vincent took several sips of his mint tea while she spoke. When she finished, he was on the verge of saying something before freezing. "I haven’t introduced myself! My name is Åsmund. Vincent Åsmund. You may have heard the name." He’d continue what he was saying. "I’m not fond of Bohemians either, but then again they’re not bad company. I enjoy and write poetry, but I much prefer writing novels. My stories range from hilariously anarchistic to satire to Neath-Reknown dramas and romances." He’d laugh. Then when Udorie raised her arm to drink the chai, a bit of the writing showed. "My God, is that the Correspondence?"
edited by VS on 10/4/2015
" Well it is a simple pleasure to make your acquaintance Mrs. Vorcast. If memory serves proper I’ve had this mask on for since the last Feast Of The Rose, which was alright for the time being, but had become a nuisance shortly afterwards. I’ve since gotten over it thought, I think a few of the urchins like the design because I’ve seen them trying to make replicas sometimes on my way through the Filt. The mask is a bit of a draw to some of my side shows I do in the streets of spite some times, so that’s always nice. Oh and don’t mind Lenore, he may seem rather sinister, and… well he is, but he’s just finished up with something devious and he needs a bit of time to reinvigorate his plots."
"We didn’t finish and as soon as I get everything back into place we are trying again" Lenore squawked, sounding fairly cross.
She listens intently, leaning forward slightly. “My my, that’s quite a while to have been stuck with that thing. But, I suppose it’s good it brings attention to your side shows.” she smiles.
She nods a bit. “Ahhh, alrighty then. Just so long as he doesn’t try pecking me or dear Soobrah then I shan’t have a problem with him!”
The American gets up from their table and joins McQuin and Vorcast. “I’ve heard of masks such as that. I used to know a remedy for that sort of thing, but it’d be quite impossible down here.” They eye the sulky raven with a smile.
“Alright, Lenore. Since our owl friend doesn’t seem to be talkative, perhaps I can amuse you for a little. ‘I move without legs. I push without arms. I speak without words. I howl without a mouth. What am I?’” The American sits back, then glances sheepishly at their companions. “I apologize, friends, but it’s been a while since I’ve had a good chat with a bird.”