JackiePink
Posts: 31
10/12/2015
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The American barks out a bitter laugh. "The music. The fashionable stuff out here is garbage compared to the soulful legacy that I'm from." They shake their head and take a sip of coffee. When they speak again, they have a pronounced drawl. "The whiskey ain't nothing to sing about either."
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Jackie Pink, the melancholy American. Drop a calling card for menace reduction, social actions, or roleplaying.http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Jackie~Pink
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Arensen
Posts: 69
10/14/2015
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The door was slammed open, a drift of the cold night air eddying into the coffee shop. A gentleman of roughly five foot eleven entered, dressed in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the light as it passed, and accompanied by an alarmingly large tiger with an alarmingly large grin. He dropped his exceptional hat on a stand in a casual movement, and a waiter, recognising a regular, made his way across. The man spoke in an upper-class London accent with a slight hint of... of something else in it. "Coffee, double shot. And wine for Daedalus, the 1872 please." As the waiter left, he cast his gaze around the coffee shop, assessing the other visitors.
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Mysteries are fire. Truth burns.
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Arensen
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DecroMcQuin
Posts: 24
10/18/2015
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"I say good sir could you shut the door? It seems to be quite drafty out all of a sudden. Say is that one of those Night-Trimmed Frock coats? I have one of those in my closet for formal occasions."
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Come find me if you care enough to: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/DecroMcQuin
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Saravina Vorcast
Posts: 30
10/22/2015
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"Oh yes dear sir, do shut the door." the little scientist chirped.
She turns her attention back to Jackie. "Yes I suppose the music down here is in pour tastes, but do keep in mind things aren't the same down here as they are up on the surface." she hummed with a smile. "Frankly I've never been a fan of whiskey, wine and vodka are more up my alley."
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/doctor~rosanburg
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/vira~mandrake
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/devious~dolorosa
My little ladies, feel free to send calling cards!
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Jonathan Galloway
Posts: 17
1/6/2016
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The man just realized how long time has passed, and he must've read the morning paper several times. He called down his Parabola Kitten, Kola, down from the rafters as he left the bill and tip on the table, picking up his coffee and walking to the door. He shut the door, and decided now is the time to join in the conversation. "Hello, m' names John." he said, his smile brightening the room and his eyes twinkling. He rubbed his side as his scar began to itch, and Kola strutted around the room, walking up to the other kittens and sniffing them. John went and sat down on a stool near where everyone was. "Ahh, the music of the Neath. Not quite a fan of it, but eventually one learns to live with it. Anyways, what do you guys think of the weather?" His voice was a high baritone, his accent mixed with American and Irish/Scottish. "The zee being flat, not quite a day for zee travel is it? Wanted to row out and fish, considering the fact I have no work." His eyes dimmed, and his smile were no longer as bright as they were. His whole demeanor changed, from bright, cheerful grizzled middle aged man to something more... dangerous. Someone with keen eyes would notice his knuckles had a hint of redness to them, and were quite bruised.
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/John_
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Saravina Vorcast
Posts: 30
6/4/2016
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The doctor looks over at the man who joined their conversation and tilts her head slightly while listening to it. "Hmm... The weather is poor at best good sir! And I am Sarah Vorcash, or Doctor Vorcash if you like." she chirped quite merrily, happy to have another person in the conversation. But, as his demeanor changed, her merry-meant faded ever slightly; but Veilin is a stubborn thing and doesn't let this damper her good spirits. "Well good sir, I might suggest something simple then, like guarding shops, being a store clerk, or simply going about business in the city with small jobs so you can hopefully settle on a final one!" she states with a sure nod, earning a displeased hoot from the owl seated on her hat, which had been moved to her lap at some point.
"Or he could try to work with the neddies or the dock-workers, whichever suits the masters' fancy. That usually leads places." the owl's voice was a hallow tenner, and as owlishly.... owlish, as one might expect.
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/doctor~rosanburg
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/vira~mandrake
http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/profile/devious~dolorosa
My little ladies, feel free to send calling cards!
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