Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 15, 2013 2:10:55 GMT
OPEN TO ALL Why did he leave his shop tonight? Why did he yearn for a good time when he knew it would not end well? There was nothing to be found outside his store's walls but trouble. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Maybe that's what I need, a little trouble, he thought, scratching the red stubble on his chin. He appeared to be in deep thought, immune sounds of boisterous yelling and ostentatious music. His hazel brown eyes were glued to the game in front of him. He rolled the dice across the table, flinching as though he was preparing for a blow. When the dice finally stopped, Willoughby Tavers was relieved to find that he had won. He let out a deep sigh and smiled, Finally! The odds are on my side. Maybe tonight won’t be as bad as I had originally thought.
He didn’t want to press his luck though, the last thing he needed was to find himself in debt to Steam Dream Casino now. The man in a black suit and yellow vest gathered his winnings. Willoughby then found himself a table near the stage. He ordered himself a pitcher of their best brew and two glasses. He didn’t know why he ordered two, maybe it was hope that made him do so, hope that someone would sit with him. Hope that someone would entertain him for a few, because the cancan girls definitely weren’t cutting it. He poured himself a glass and sighed. The liquor was amazing, but it didn’t fill the whole in his heart. It may not fill the void, but at least I’ll be too drunk to remember there was one.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 15, 2013 2:29:53 GMT
Caitlin had been looking for weeks for Sarah, everywhere she could remember the girl ever running off to, including that Edel character she knew the girl had temporarily bunked with. Why Caitlin was wasting her time hunting for her shipmate when she knew that the girl would just take off again in her typical independent fashion was beyond Cait's own understanding. She was aggitated at her own inability to let it go - and kept telling herself it's what a best friend should do. Of course, that logic didn't make it any easier.
And now here she was, at the Steam Dream Casino, after recalling a certain covert operation the girls once engaged in back on the brink of war. They'd dressed themselves the part of cancan dancers and taken the stage and served on the floor, fishing for gossip. It felt like so long ago, it was hard to believe it was only a year since then. Unable to walk in the front door as herself, since upper class ladies were bad for business in a joint where men went to loosen up, she donned her old cancan costume and pinched a tray from the bar. Conspicuously she walked around the facility, eyes roaming for her lost friend as she fulfilled random orders from the paying patrons. It made her smile wickedly at the thought that perhaps this wasn't such a bad pasttime if she was making money while she was at it. Perhaps that's exactly what Sarah was up to now. She was starting to get her hopes up that maybe she would find her at last.
A young man placed an order for a pitcher and two glasses. She loaded up her tray and made her way across the floor to the table next to the stage. Caitlin sat down the order and watched as the man leaned across, poured himself the first glass and sighed. She pretended to wait for him to pay while secretly she scanned the line of leggy dancers kicking up their heels to the tooney piano tempo being played in the corner. Sarah was not among them. She sighed too.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 15, 2013 2:46:13 GMT
Willoughby finished his first glass and was about to pour another when he noticed that the waitress was still standing there by his table. He raised an eyebrow at her and wondered if he forgot to pay. He knew that he probably did. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out more than enough to pay for the pitcher. Willoughby observed her closely, swearing there was something familiar about her. He had never been to the casino before so he couldn’t just pawn it off on that…no she looked too familiar. He tore his attention away from her, dropping it. The last thing he needed was to spend this time gawking at some waitress, because he had a hunch that he knew her. So what? It didn’t matter. She was way too pretty and busy to pay him any attention. He was just a simple mechanic. Well maybe not just a simple mechanic. He had recently been elevated to leader of Mingo’s Merchanics, but what did that mean to someone like her? She probably preferred a military man or a actor or even a nobleman. Willoughby would forever be a peasant who became something out of pure luck.
“Here,” he muttered as he held the money out to her, “Keep the change.”
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 15, 2013 2:57:04 GMT
Caitlin startled at the sound of his voice, not because it was unexpected or even very loud, this place was noisy enough that the chatter all tended to blend together. It was just the familiarity that caught her off guard and made her turn her full attention on the man. He held out some Europium to her - much more than the order required. She picked up her tray and looked down at his hand, then back up at the profile of his face as he watched the stage. He wasn't one of hers, she made a point to accept each of her guild members in person after evaluating their performances. He had never undergone such an evaluation. The grease under his nails gave her the impression he was a working class man, and that meant he wasn't one of her fathers attempts to engage and marry her off either. So how did she know him? She considered the possibility that she'd fought him in the war, back when she had a personal vendetta against certain members of the assassin's guild... but coming right out and asking "Have I ever tried to kill you?" seemed a bit insensible.
"I couldn't..." she said instead, referring to the excess of money. She waited for him to respond to her rejection, hoping a good look at his face head on would clear her mind a bit.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 15, 2013 3:14:07 GMT
Willoughby barely managed to hear the woman reject his generous tip. He couldn't stand for that now. He placed the money on the table (since she did not grab it) and poured himself another drink, pressing his lips against the rim of glass before deciding to handle this situation like any chap would. He ran a hand through his wild hair, before looking her dead in the eyes as though he was searching for her soul. He flashed her a small smirk, "I insist," he said, sliding the money closer to her, "What's the point of coming to these establishments if a man can't throw all his money at a beautiful woman?" he chuckled, returning his attention to his drink. Whether she took it or not was up to her.
He still couldn't shake that feeling that they had met before. Her voice was another piece of the puzzle, but Will heard thousands of voices everyday. How could he expect to remember this one in particular? He took another swig of his drink, feeling his body loosen.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 15, 2013 3:25:18 GMT
Hrmph. She met his hazel eyes dead on and the sense of familiarity stuck, though it didn't grow any stronger or clearer. Perhaps he worked on the docks and that's where she had seen him? Not many men on the docks worked with grease though. There were a special few jobs that involved engines and boilers which required a mechanics finesse so if the itch to figure him out didn't go away, she had an idea where she could start her search without having to ask too many questions.
Still, there was the matter of the money, and the remark he'd made. That, and the fact that one of the bouncers was glaring at her from across the room as if he thought she was standing there a little too long and suspected she was harassing a customer. Uh oh. She brushed her loose golden hair back over the blue feathers of her costume and slammed a booted foot down on his drink table. Leaning forward all cat-like she traced her fingers deliberately down her thigh and calve till she could scoop up the cash and tuck it into the inside buckle by her ankle.
"Is this waitress bothering you?" The bouncer asked, appearing on the other side of the man. His arms were crossed and his gaze menacing as he stared hard at Caitlin over the customers head.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 15, 2013 3:39:30 GMT
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the waitress picked up the money in a seductive manner. He smiled at his drink, his amusement doubling as a bouncer appeared and made a remark about whether or not she was bothering he or not. Willoughby turned his head towards the massive man to his side. He sighed and shook his head, his eyes darkening as he addressed the bouncer, "No. She's not bothering me," he said, sweeping a few strands of hair away from his eyes, "But...you are. So you have two options. One, you can continue to harass me and I can tell your manager about your relentless need to disturb paying customers, especially when that customer is the head of Mingo's Merchanics or two, you can leave me and the lady alone."
He finished off his second glass, amazed at how powerful he had managed to make himself sound in those few sentences. He was pleased with himself. Willoughby couldn't really believe that the man thought she was bothering him. Who wouldn't want to be bothered by a woman as captivating as her? The bouncer didn't budge though, despite Will's threats, which only irritating him more, "What's it going to be, buddy?" he asked again, preparing himself to stand just in case he didn't back off.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 15, 2013 4:04:20 GMT
The bouncer eyed Caitlin some more, and she held her breath wondering if he would realize any second now that she didn't actually work here. But then the customer got short with him and the bouncers eyes slipped to the younger man. For a second they flashed threateningly and she gulped thinking maybe the mechanic was going to get tossed out. But then the bouncer muttered something about liquid courage and stormed back off to his post by the door. Caitlin chuckled with relief and amusement.
"Head of Mingo's? It's not everyday a 'waitress' is rescued by a guild leader," she teased. Inwardly she wondered if the old master mechanic croaked, or if this gentleman was lying to impress her. Either way she was impressed with how he stood up to the other guy. She looked down at the pitcher and smiled. "Looks like you need a top up! I'll be back in a jiff-" She announced and snatched up the glass, sashaying to the bar and refilling the thing.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 15, 2013 18:31:50 GMT
Willoughby sighed as the bouncer walked away. If it had come down to a fight the mechanic wouldn't have stood a chance against the brute. Taver was strong and he had a wrench tucked in one of his coat pockets, but frankly he didn't know the first thing about fighting. After all those years of getting his butt handed to him by punks, Will still didn't take the time to learn. All he knew is that you held your fists up and swung 'em forward. So normally when he got into confrontations, he talked big game and tried his best to take them down, but time after time it was always his face hitting the pavement. It would have been quite embarrassing to get the crude beat out of me in front of the lady though. Nothing says, I'm a manly man like defeat.
She made a comment about his position at Mingo’s and being “rescued”. He smiled, pleased with himself. Maybe I have a chance after all, he thought as she scurried off to refill his pitcher. Willoughby couldn’t help but to watch her as she headed to the bar. He quickly shimmied off his coat and yanked off his tie. Will ran his hands through his hair, trying to get it the way he liked it. Alright, Will. When she comes back, you are going to ask her if she’d like to sit down. Yea, you’ve got this.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 17, 2013 6:22:31 GMT
Caitlin didn't know what she was doing. Well, she knew she was refilling his pitcher and taking it back to him, but she didn't know why. She'd found out what she'd come here to find: that Sarah wasn't working as a cancan dancer again. So what was the point in staying? The chance at some innocent flirting maybe? She hadn't done much of that since she became the leader of her own guild. She looked back over her shoulder at what she assumed was Tourin's replacement - supposing she took his word for it anyway. If he was their new leader, he was about to experience the weight and constraints of leadership. She felt kind of sorry for him. Topping off the drink, she carried it carefully back over to him and appraised him with kinder eyes. He looked so quietly carefree with a subtle ruggedness. Her heart went out to him like a kindred spirit, and she hoped he wouldn't lose this look about himself in the weeks and months to come.
"Here you go," she spoke sweetly as she placed the container on the table beside him.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 17, 2013 19:13:12 GMT
Willoughby grinned as she returned with his pitcher. He didn't know if it was because he was genuinely glad to see her or because he was on the borderline of becoming drunk. Either way, he didn't mind or care. What's the worse thing that could happen from smiling at a pretty girl or getting drunk? He nodded as she sat liquor near him. He didn't refill his cup right away, even though he felt he needed the liquid courage. Will knew he needed to be able to speak with this woman without relying on alcohol. He parted his lips, attempting to speak yet nothing came out. The mechanic gulped. Drat.
He cleared his throat again, "Um..." he managed to say, before mentally smacking himself. Come on Tavers. Get it together. Just spit it out, "Uh do you wanna sit down? I...uh know you're probably working, but uh...yea." As soon as he finished speaking, he knew he probably sounded like a fool. He wanted to slam his head against the table, but figured that would not help his case. At least you didn't say, "I can pay for your time". That would have made it worse.
It's official. the blue haired girl thought to herself as she fiddled with the strings at the back. I hate corsets! Unfortunately for her, it was part of the provided costume that she had to wear as part of the agreement for being allowed to perform here in the casino. The pubs around the area had heard about her last little gig, and the black blood incident... thankfully casino's were more than willing to exploit people to bring in a few more Europiums. So when she'd been out hunting for a gig, the manager had sent out a little incentive to draw her in. The pay for this gig would pay for the outfit, which given Ikuze's other line of work would probably come in handy she had to admit, and leave her with some money to legitimately get some stuff for herself.
Money in her pocket had a nice sound to it. The gig did however come with some strings attached.
Firstly the outfit.
She was required to wear knee high cloth boots, black, which had five inch heels. So not much walking tonight then let alone running. grumbled the thief when she'd put them on, along with the suspender clips that attached to her white pants. Then came the white pleated skirt that only went about half way down her upper thighs at the front, and down to the back of her knees at the back. There was a lacey black petticoat underneath. Given that most of the girls here were wearing sometimes even less than she was, it still felt a little revealing in her opinion, given that when she sat down, unless she crossed her legs the audience would get a lovely view of her delicates. The skirt had a matching black corset with white stripes along the boning that gave the petite girl's twins a more exagerated busty appearance. In her hair was placed a single large black cloth feather that tilted over her head from the back somewhat. Her arms were covered in black elbow length gloves that came to a tip around a ring that went over her middle finger, baring her hands to the elements.
She'd managed to keep her choker though than the one the casino was providing. She didn't like the way it looked like a slave collar the way the little hoop jutted out from the black cloth strap. Her hair was then taken by the girls and styled in some kind of ringlet patterns that then fell across her shoulders and down her back a little. Ikuze had to admit when they put her in front of a mirror that she did look quite stunning... if a little revealing without being revealing for her taste.
The second condition was that she was to not use her magic EXCEPT to make the customers want to gamble more of their money. The third condition was that after her performance she'd work the floor for a couple of hours, as one of the waitresses, or a private dance for one of the customers if they offered enough for one. This last bit she did haggle on, making it so that only customers offering 1000 Europium each time would get the dances. The manager seemed to take that one well enough.
Ikuze took in a slow breath before she went out onto the stage, guitar in hand. The unfamiliar boots made it so that she had to take each step carefully, which only drew more attention to her legs and then the rest of her body. Was probably the bastard's plan all along... the thief growled internally. She did wonder though why her dress was black and white, compared to the riot of colours all the other girls were wearing. It put her on edge a little she had to admit to herself. She took her seat, crossed her legs and resting the body of her guitar on her top leg. And without any introduction or such, she started to play and sing.
As she sung and her fingers danced their way across the strings, she remembered Caitlin's lessons in subtlety, and weaved her Hypnosis magic through the chords of her instrument's voice rather than her own so that it would only lightly touch upon the minds of the customer's of the casino, trying to lightly encourage the patrons desires to gamble their money away.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 19, 2013 5:56:14 GMT
"Actually my shift just ended," Caitlin lied. Which, noone was going to believe, even the real employees, unless she got out of this getup. "Let me change out of this thing, and I'd be happy to join you - if you don't mind the wait of course..." She bit her lip and hoped he wouldn't say no. In the background she heard a familiar sound and if she thought about it a little harder she'd recognize the music belonging to one of her rogues.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Willoughby Tavers on Dec 20, 2013 2:26:30 GMT
Willoughby smiled like a complete idiot when she told him her shift had ended and that she actually wanted to join him, after she changed of course. Will didn't blame her for that, but he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't miss the revealing outfit. Having her in normal clothes would probably help the mechanic articulate his words better, though, which was a plus. That's all he really wanted, to be honest. He didn't have an unrealistic expectations concerning his time with the nameless woman, he just wanted to talk. He nodded at her, "Yea. Yea! Go right ahead. I'll be right here," he replied in a chipper tone, despite the fact that he cursing himself for sounding so stupid. Where else would you be, ya idiot? Planning on running away once she leaves? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Then suddenly music hit his ears. He looked around for the source of the noise, finding an entertainer on stage. Will was so taken aback but the minstrels, that he didn't know if the waitress was still there or not. All he knew is that he suddenly had the desire to return to the tables. Maybe if I just go play one more game, he thought, rising to his feet with a hand grasping his money.
Wrong. For the first time in her short life so far, using her power like this felt to the thief... wrong somehow. She watched as members of her audience suddenly began leaving their tables, some to the dismay of their female companions, or their waitresses, or just as some were leaving to return shortly. One ginger man in particular, in a black suit and yellow vest, had looked ecstatic at the words of one of the girls in blue here. She couldn't make out her face given she had her back turned to her, but, given the way she was stood and the man's face, it seemed to the half-blood that this was one date she was not going to break up... No matter how much trouble it would get her in with the manager. Hey, he never said how many customers had to go play his games. Ikuze justified to herself as she grinned a little.
With that thought in mind, she finished her first song and went straight into another, her boots tapping away on the floor and in the air. This time as she played, she continued the earlier nudging for the gamblers, but for this couple she tried to reverse what she'd done to the man for the girl's sake. Her forehead began to sweat as she used her power twice in the same instant, the guitar's chords continuing the gambling spell for the rest of the casino, whilst her voice carried the reversal for the man.
I hope this works. she thought to herself as she played. She'd never tried to use her power in this manner before and could only hope that it worked... assuming it didn't give the poor bloke a headache. Or anyone else in the casino for that matter. Maaaaybe trying to use two at once wasn't the best idea... the thief began to admit to herself as she blinked the sweat from her eyes.
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