An Evening of Wonder [Lancaster Live]
Posted: 21 Jan 2018, 04:26
Lancaster dArt
It felt good to be back, even if Lancaster had had to go to the emergency to get a bullet dug out of his leg because he hadn't been able to do it himself. It was an adventure, honestly, though he had no idea who the guy was who'd shot him, or why -- or why the shooter now suddenly acted as if they were friends. The bandage clung to Lancaster's thigh, the wound throbbing in a way that the now-human was entirely unpleased by. Although he'd called himself Freddie, too many regulars and employees knew him as 'Lancaster' and he hadn't the energy to try correct them. So Lancaster it was.
Kensington
Harper Rock had been different again. Returning to a place where she'd once called home before she'd hit it well in Hollywood, where people didn't swarm her immediately was well, nice. It was one of the reasons that Kensington hadn't minded the idea of going out for a few drinks, the promise of enjoying herself one that had been a promise missing for ages. There was always too much drama, too much trouble with the press because of her friends. She'd returned home to write, and that's what she intended to do. With her hair twisted up and out of her face, she entered the Lancaster's with a smile across her lips and took in the surrounding area. Finding it to be perfect, she made her way towards the bar gracefully in her stilettos.
Lancaster dArt
Jessica, one of the waitstaff, had told Lancaster that he should go sit down somewhere. But honestly, Lancaster was sick of sitting and he felt like he had a lot to make up for. He'd given no excuse for his long absence, and he was still trying to remember everything, though the trivial and least harmful memories were quick to return. With a cloth over his shoulder and a smile on his face, he greeted the newcomer with genuine warmth. "Welcome to Lancaster's. What can I get you?"
Kensington
What was it that she used to drink in this town? It was a question that had her crinkling her nose in thought, a light gesture that would look as if she were trying to itch the spot without moving. As the man approached, she folded her duster over her lap once her legs were crossed. She smiled in return, the warmth of it received and given in time. "How about a Tom Collins?"
Ripper
sent the drink over to Lancaster dArtois.
Ripper
"I'll fix my own beverage, thank you."
Ripper
starts mingling among the patrons.
Lancaster dArt
"Tom Collins, coming right up," Lancaster said, turning to retrieve a glass from the shelf. Where Jessica, also tending bar, was buzzing around without hindrance, Lancaster was limping a little. He had a cane that he could use to help him, but he didn't see the point in such a cramped space. He spooned ice into and all the necessary ingredients into a cocktail shaker, shook it all up and poured the drink into a tall glass to serve, lemon wedges swimming within. He passed the drink over, only to be confronted by the same man from earlier.
Lancaster dArt
"Fix your... no, you don't work here. Stay on that side of the bar. I don't want any trouble..."
Ripper
*Ripper meanwhile had no intention of drinking anything stocked behind that bar and had already consumed several pints already upon entering in the space of several minutes. No one else seems to have noticed.
Kensington
She thanked the man quietly, lifting her eyebrow at the individual with a soft roll of her eyes afterwards. "Any thing he consumes, I'll pay for replacements. That should cover any sort of trouble, correct?" She offered to the man behind the bar, a shake of her head showing her distaste of it all.
Ripper
* half the patrons seem to leave the area within the next 15 minutes but the clamor of conversation is only slightly lessened.*
Ripper
burps.
Lancaster dArt
"It's not that kind of trouble I'm worried about," he said, trying to gauge from a distance whether the man was armed, and whether he had any intention of trying to shoot Lancaster again in public. It wouldn't do good to tell a customer about a potential armed crazy person, however, so he remained silent. "No need to pay extra," he said with a smile.
Ripper
"I'll leave everyone a nice tip." *he winks*
Ripper
*trails a finger over the polished counter top*
Ripper
"No hard feelings?"
Kensington
That type of trouble." She thought with a sigh. Deciding to ignore the other, she turned her attention to the man behind the bar. "If there's an issue with your shortage though, I don't mind. I wouldn't want to see this place close down for a few days." She shrugged, "But at least he's saying he'll tip. That's always a plus."
Ripper
"Two even." he jokes.
Lancaster dArt
"As I said, I don't want any trouble," he said to the guy. Of course there were hard feelings. There was something the guy had said which had Lancaster assuming the shot to the leg had nothing to do with his Shade wreaking havoc, but something else. Something from the past. For shits and giggles. Who does that? But he wasn't going to have that conversation in a crowded bar. "And," he said to the woman. "I don't think one man could drink me out of all my stock. It's fine."
Ripper
"You won't get any more from me." *raises a clear liquid shot he had palmed from off the table from a departed patron. "The very best health to you in your new beginnings."
Ripper
downs the shot and makes whiskey face.
Ripper
"Love to Teka." he leaves the area quickly before vomiting an upchuck into the snowbanks piled up along outside.
Kensington
"You'd be surprised." She looked mildly disgusted before a shake of her head, taking a drink from her glass. "Excellently made, thank you. Have you worked here long?"
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow and shook his head. People were... strange. And he wasn't upset that this particular patron was gone -- especially if he had no intention of actually spending money. He'd probably have been forcibly removed eventually anyway. "I have no idea who Teka is..." he muttered.
Lancaster dArt
He took a breath and slowly nodded. "Since the place opened..." he said with a small, knowing smile.
Kensington
"Must have a good relationship with the owner. It's been here for a while, I think?" She'd been around a few times when visiting family, but she had never stepped inside. There were always things to do, people to see.
Lancaster dArt
"Five or six years, give or take," he said. He grabbed the cloth from his shoulder to wipe his hands, before offering one to the patron. "Elliot Lancaster," he said.
Kensington
The brief confusion was evident as it dawned on her who she was talking to. A chuckle escaped past her lips, "Sorry about that. It's a pleasure. Kensington McKay." She wiped her hand on her skirt, removing the condensation from the glass before taking the offered hand, giving it a firm shake.
Lancaster dArt
"Why sorry? You weren't to know," he said with a wink, shaking her hand before releasing it. If Lancaster were one to pay any attention to tabloids or if he watched TV or movies beyond the old black and whites that he preferred, he might have recognised the other's name. As it was, he did not. "Are you waiting for someone or just enjoying a quiet drink...?"
Kensington
"Sometimes faces should be known." She laughed, "I thought you were just a normal employee, not the owner. Although, that's typically the sign of a good owner - someone not just sitting behind their books, it is not?" She took another sip from her drink before giving a shake of her head, "I am just enjoying a drink. Coming around to see if I can find some sort of muse."
Lancaster dArt
There were certain things Lancaster missed -- like being able to gauge what other people were feeling. Or to give them muse and inspiration when that's what they needed. But he didn't need powers to do that -- he just needed to try a little harder. He nodded. "I try to be personable. And I know how that feels. The... muse, thing. I used to play a lot, on that stage," he said, nodding to the stage near the back of the establishment. "I haven't been up there for... a long while. What kind of muse are you looking for?"
Kensington
It was a good question, what was she looking for. The screenwriter bit her bottom lip as she considered it. She'd written three romance films, all were medicore, really. Even as an actress, she wouldn't do it. "I haven't decided yet, to be honest. I'm a writer, trying to write another script. Sounds silly, I suppose, but I'm indecisive about this next pitch."
Fang Song
"You know, I can go out for a drink without my mother tagging along," she snapped, a touch of a whine to her otherwise soft voice. Without sparing a look over her shoulder to see if her mother had taken the hint - she already knew she hadn't - she tightened her hold on her tote and searched for a place to sit.
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster laughed, low but serene. "Well, you've come to the right place to find inspiration for a movie script. You should write one about vampires..." he said with a chuckle.
Mei Xing
"Mm. No. You can't." The small asian woman lifted her hand to push back the long strands of her dark hair, fussing with herself for not putting the silky cascade up in a quick do as she clutched at her purse. It was clear she wasn't very trusting with just about anyone near her bag. She let her dark gaze settle on her daughter. "You know how dangerous it is."
Kensington
"It's one of the reasons I came home to Harper Rock, really." She laughed, amused. "But unless there's a specific angle, you really can't do anything that hasn't been done before."
Lancaster dArt
"Mm, in my experience the vampires of Harper Rock aren't you're regular cup of tea," he said, leaning against the bar top. He'd noticed the two newcomers and would nod amicably in their direction, should they catch his eye. "It's not all black and white. What's your opinion on them? Vampires, I mean?"
Fang Song
"No, mother. I know how dangerous you -think- it is. I can stand to be on my own for ten minutes." With a toss of her own silken hair, the younger Asian finally slid into an unoccupied chair, legs tucked beneath her. When the man caught her attention, she moved to smile in his direction - only to freeze in place. There wasn't a lot of a girl in her situation to do but waste her days away watching television, so it took her no time to realize who was across from him. "Mom, look. It's Kensington McKay, from that show I binged in like, two days. Remember?"
Kensington
"That's true. I suppose I should see more before giving a full on nope on vampires, hm?" The woman thought about it. "Overall, I think they're probably like us. Trying to make a living, to survive in a world that's too cruel and unforgiving." Kensington stirred her drink with her straw, frowning, "I'm sure there's some that are nice and some that are, excuse my language, douchebags. Just like us."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster nodded. "Even then it's not so neatly cut. There are nice ones who have to deal with heightened emotions and blood lust. They hate it, but there are times they can't control it. They could do bad things but not mean it; they could be consumed by guilt. And there are... well, yeah. Those who think they're top of the food chain and ruin it for everyone else..." he laughed.
Mei Xing
The string of Chinese that left the woman's lips was a hiss, though even so, the Hu dialect rolled of her tongue quick and easy, though the words were meant to scold, there was a tenderness in them. She suppressed the urge to give the back of her daughter's head a quick, open-palmed rap, and instead she let her slide into her seat unmolested. She frowned at her daughter's indication, and suddenly became very aware of the rest of the room. Famous people brought unwanted attention. "Who? I've never heard of her. I don't know what you're talking about." She shook her head, looking down at the girl as she decided on what she should do. It would make less of a scene if she sat, and so, she did.
Fang Song
It was only natural for the woman to flinch when her mother began her scathing tirade, and flinch she did. In fact, she seemed to shrink, the seat she had claimed for herself threatening to swallow her whole. “There is no need for that, mama,†she muttered as she began to pick at the napkin dispenser. Every few seconds, she would sneak a glance towards the other pair, though she was careful in keeping her gaze on the bartender for only a few seconds. If her mother had her way, Fang would never see the light of day again, despite the doctors demanding she live a normal, healthy life. “You do to, mama. Remember, she is the one you said that looked like she needed a better upbringing,†she hissed.
Kensington
"Mm, that sounds dreadful." She frowned, thinking about it all. It wasn't a bad pitch, really. She had a notebook in her purse, but didn't reach for it. "So there's different types of vampires in this place?" She asked, "I couldn't imagine it, the heightened pull of emotions. That must be absolutely draining for them."
Mei Xing
Making a scoffing sound through her nose, Mei lifted a hand and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "That sounds like every one of those Western girls you are so obsessed with." She muttered and set her bag down at her side, hands rifling through her things until she found her wallet. She glanced up at her daughter, following Fang's gaze to the man behind the bar. "Does he look like a doctor to you, Fang Song? Because he looks like a bartender to me. Keep your eyes where they belong." she murmured a little louder, fishing several bills from her clutch. Canada. She had to remind herself that they were in Canada now. The cash she carried was an international convention of currency, and she had to remind herself almost daily that it was the Canadian bills that she needed here. "Now, what do you want to drink?"
Lancaster dArt
"There are," he said. "Everyone takes to that kind of life differently," he added, though he was distracted. Jessica was busy, and though most bars didn't offer table service Lancaster liked to. It showed initiative. "Excuse me for a second," he said, retrieving the cane from where he'd left it at the end of the bar and hobbled over to the two who'd just arrived. He didn't have a pen and paper; he'd remember their orders. "Can I get anything for you? I'll bring some water to the table, and there are some menus to your left if you would like food..."
Kensington
As Elliot excused himself, Kensington gave a nod of her head and waited for a few moments before pulling out the notebook and her pen. 'Vampires with heighted emotions? Perhaps one vampire feeling emotions and causes pain?' Some of it was scratched through. No, it would remind her too much of Twilight. She underlined the motions and pain. 'Vampire with guilt trip?' The words were underlined again as she took another drink and quietly began writing small summaries. Maybe it would help.
Fang Song
“I often wonder how you survive with that stick so far up your ***, mother,†she retorted, and though she soon busied herself with the napkin dispenser, she didn’t miss the flash in her mother’s eyes. “I’m not going to get pregnant just from looking at someone, you know.†Dropping the torn bits of napkin to the table, she settled back into her seat and drew a knee to her chest, just as her mother palmed a few bills. “I’ll take a rum and coke,†she muttered, though the sentence was nearly drowned out by the sudden rumble of the bartender. Lifting her gaze from the table, she made a point to smile at him, dark eyes brightening as she tapped a single digit against the menu. “I’ll take a plate of cheese fries, too.â€
Mei Xing
The flash was more of a cold glint of parental fury, a righteous hand of some ancient god was about to reach down from the heavens and give her wretched child a cuff the likes of which she had never imagined, and it would be her own hand that did the delivering. For the moment, however, she simply pressed her lips tightly together and sat in silent anger, the changing color of her face bringing out the dark specks fo her freckles as she glared at the young woman across the table. She was so proud of her, if she was honest, to stand up for herself as she was, but that she would be so blatantly disrespectful, after all that she had done for Fang, it was enough to make her furious. "Wine, please. White." She said without looking the man's way, before realizing she was being rude, and turned away from her impish child to give the man a terse smile. "That will be all."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow. "Okay. Rum and coke, white wine, cheese fries. Let me know if you need anything else," he said with a nod, turning away from the two women -- the tension was thick, and that was not an argument he wished to get between -- and went back to the bar. The food order was sent through to the kitchen via the register, and he hobbled back and forth to prepare the drinks -- along with water and two water glasses -- to put on a tray to take to the table. While he moved, he glanced at Kensington's notebook. "You have a few new ideas?"
Kensington
"A few, at least for now. I'll probably have to strike some out over time." Kensington looked up at him as he spoke, watching the man as he walked past. She'd begun to write a mildly rough sketch of a main character that may be based off him. "I usually go through about five or six before I find one I like. That doesn't even begin to cover the actual script writing process." She chuckled, "They look to be mother and daughter. Wouldn't want to get on her bad side, though." She said after looking over her shoulder and giving the two a smile in greeting.
Fang Song
“Of course, thank you,†she replied quickly, though it wasn’t quick enough. The man turned and left, and her gaze strayed to his cane. Even as powerful as he appeared, he was still hindered. For a moment, a touch of sadness entered her gaze, the feud with her mother forgotten. “It doesn’t matter what I do, does it? I’m always going to be…†She didn’t need to finish the sentence, because the wince that crossed her features when she untangled her legs to place her feet on the floor did it for her. “You didn’t have to be so rude to him, mama. He’s just doing his jo—“ The reprimand died on her tongue when she watched Kensington turn, her warm smile more genuine than she had anticipated. “Did you see that?!â€
Mei Xing
Lifting a hand, she idly swatted away at the imaginary physical representation of her daughter's attempt at scolding her. "He is a strong enough man. He can handle little old me." She had already turned to glance out the window, watching the street with an intent glare. She disliked being away from the safehaven they had found, and liked even less that her daughter insisted on being so... social. She took a slow breath through her nose to calm herself, hand patting at her bag idly as she shook her head at Fang's sudden fangirling. She blinked slowly, dark eyes turning to her spawn as she turned to follow her stare again, to the woman at the bar. Someone she had known, she had said. "See what?"
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster followed Kensington's glance toward the table. He nodded, then shrugged. "I think they're having an argument. The mother is kind of terrifying," he said with a chuckle. It was a jest. He wasn't actually terrified, but he could see how people could be. He felt bad for any boy the girl might bring home. For she did appear ... well, old enough to drink, but still young to Lancaster who guessed himself to be at least twice her age. This brought a broader smile to his lips. Yes, he was aging again. The silver had started almost immediately to streak his dark hair, and where it might have brought others dismay, it brought him only joy. He took the tray in hand. "Excuse me," he said to Kensington as he carried the tray -- very carefully and somewhat slowly -- over to their table.
Fang Song
As her mother turned to stare out the window, she found herself sinking further into her seat. Her hands ached, her chest burned, but still, she kept her features as relaxed as she could. Already, the telling signs of stress and worry began to mar her mother’s features, and the all encompassing guilt that came with it reared its head. Reaching across the table, she quickly grasped the older woman’s hand. “I told you I could come alone, mama. How else do you expect me to find a doctor or a lawyer to take me off your hands?†Her words were meant to tease, but she knew the woman would merely frown. “Kensington, she smiled at us. She really is a nice person. I wish I could live her life,†she said wistfully, even as the bartender approached their table once more, bringing another warm – if not slightly flirtatious – smile of her own.
Kensington
"Well, arguments happen. Families do that, blood or not." She gave a shake of her head, thinking of the ones she had on and off set. Her pen tip tapped against the piece of paper in front of her. The woman pondering afterwards.
Mei Xing
And frown she did. She couldn't tell Fang about the close calls, about all of the times that they had just barely escaped with their lives. She couldn't tell her daughter about all of the blood on her hands, about how it was her fault that Fang couldn't live that life. She sighed, the sound quiet as she did what she could to let go of some of that anxiety. She would have to be vigilant, without looking so worried. She let her face lighten up, and turned to the gentleman with their water. She offered him a kind smile, then, and took her glass. "Thank you, young man." she said warmly, placing a hand on the man's forearm. "If your leg is bothering you, my daughter is young. She has plenty of energy left in her legs. She can make the trip to the bar herself, can't you, dear?" Her dark eyes turned to her daughter, to see if she might see the small gift that she had just offered her, the slack that she had allowed her grip on the tether that kept her daughter close.
Lancaster dArt
The laugh that broke from Lancaster was genuine, and thoroughly amused. "Young? Oh, you flatter me," he said. His Australian accent was broad and only lent warmth to the whole exchange. The two women were both younger than he was -- or so he assumed, just by looking at them. "A few more years and I'll claim half a century," he said. If there were any flirtatious smiles he paid them no mind; he was taken, and he assumed himself too old for her. He wondered what Hannah would do once he reached his half a century and she was still as young as she always was. "My leg is fine, thank. It reminds me I'm alive," he said, helping to deposit the drinks upon the table.
Fang Song
When the man laughed, her smile only warmed – though it was her mother’s actions that allowed her to relax. For the moment, she was allowing her freedom. It would only be a small taste, but it was more than she had been allowed in years. “If you’re certain,†she responded, though the flirtatious glint in her eye had dimmed. It hadn’t been for his benefit. While he was attractive, she knew her limits. She wouldn’t be allowed to date – nor, would she want to, should he return interest. She would wish her ailment on anyone, let alone the man in her life. No, the smile had been for her mother, to test her limits – and, for a brief moment in time, she had won. Holding that victory tight to her chest, she carefully lifted her rum and coke and took a small sip. “May we have your name? I do not think it polite to yell waiter across the bar,†she teased.
Lancaster dArt
"I'm certain," he said. "Most people call me Lancaster," he added. He might have offered a hand, but he was holding an empty tray in one hand, and a cane in the other.
Mei Xing
lSo far, so good. Fang hadn't run out the door and into the night to get herself shot, to wind up at the bottom of the river. She just smiled at the man's laughter, and gave a gentle, quiet chuckle as she took her drink from the table, sipping lightly at her wine. "If you insist, dear. Though I have to give the girl some excuse to run over to that bar and meet her hero." She smiled, and let her eyes slide to her daughter as she tipped her head toward the bar. "Go on, then."
Fang Song
"Lancaster? That's a strange name," said the girl called Fang. Of course, as soon as she realized it, she couldn't help but duck her head, because now it was only fair to give her name in return. With a quick clear of her throat, tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'm Fang Song, and this is Mei Xing, my mother - and, mama, I will go when you finish your wine."
Lancaster dArt
Fang Song and Mei Xing. They weren't strange so much as foreign, and Lancaster wasn't going to judge foreign. Though he did wonder how often Mei Xing had been called 'Amazing'. "It's nice to meet you," he nodded to them both. "And Lancaster is a surname. My given name is Elliot, but ..." he shrugged. Nicknames weren't often chosen by those who wore them. Lancaster glanced toward the bar. "...your hero?"
Kensington
As she finished writing, Kensington crossed her t's and dotted her eyes. Afterwards, the woman sighed and balled up the piece of paper she had been working on before throwing it into the nearest trashbin. It swept the sides of the rim before falling properly into the bin, causing her to relax her shoulders. It'd be awkward to have to ask someone to pick it up. Lifting her hand, she pulled at a loose strand of hair as it dusted over her shoulders. "Stupid ideas." She grumbled to herself, halfheartedly. She'd get it. She wasn't a one hit wonder, she knew it.
Mei Xing
nodded and made a gesture at the bar. "The woman, there. I forget her name. Kerry Ton or something. Loved her on the t.v. Couldn't tear her away, even to eat." She chuckled and took a longer sip from her wine. "And a pleasure to meet you, Lancaster. Sounds very Saxon."
Fang Song
"... Kensington McKay. Who in the world is Kerry Ton?" With a shake of her head, she eased herself from her chair, and though she only wavered once, she managed to keep herself upright. "She was in Monsters. It was a very good television show. I watched the entire series in two days, as embarrassing as that sounds. I had nothing else going for me," she muttered, though she kept her smile warm. "Excuse me. I am going to see if I can get an autograph. It'll be a grand thing before I die. Mama, don't eat him."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow. "I had no idea," he said. "Goes to show how much TV I watch," he laughed. Even with this new information he doubted he'd treat Kensington any different. He frowned as Fang stood and seemed to waver -- he was ready to drop the tray to catch her, if he needed to. But he hadn't needed to. He then turned back to Mei. "... I'm not very tasty."
Mei Xing
"Right, Kerriton McVeigh. That's what I said." She nodded, the motion sagely in every ounce of its demeanor, like she had been right all along. "The show. Critters. She was glued to that television." She muttered the last part, and rubbed thin fingers across her knuckles, taking another sip from her wine as she grimaced at her daughter's lack of respect for her condition. She wasn't going anywhere, so long as Mei had a say in it, and she would always have a say. She shot the girl a glare, then, and shoo'ed her with a flick of her wrist. "Hardly the sort of snack I'm after, Fang. Behave yourself, or I'll have your ear." She turned to the man at her side and offered him a small grin. "Don't worry, I'm particular about my snacks."
Kensington
A page was turned as Kensington began to write again. At least, or so it seemed. She liked the character basis that she'd come across. A tall and charming vampire, guilt ridden by the life that he had been forced into. 'Maybe a cult of vampires?'
Fang Song
"I give up," she muttered as she made her way across the bar, each step carefully selected to ensure she stayed upright. It was already nearing the end of her limit, and yet, she refused to give in. She refused to allow her disease to rule her life. "Kensington," she greeted, one hand going to her tote to pull out her song-book and pen. "Do you think I could get your autograph? Maybe then my mother will get your name right."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster couldn't tell anymore, who was vampire and who was not. Would there be a vampire mother-daughter duo? Why couldn't there be? And they didn't both need to be vampires... but then, it could also all just be a jest. His mouth opened to respond but a door had opened somewhere near the bathrooms, and Kristina came rushing toward him. "Mr Lancaster, there's a leak upstairs. A pipe... one of the bathrooms..." she said, glancing warily at the customer. Something told Lancaster there was more to the story. He turned back to Mei and nodded. "Sorry, excuse me. I think this requires my attention," he said. He didn't disturb Fang or Kensington, but handed the tray to Kristina to run back to the bar. "Hope to you back again soon," he nodded to Mei before hobbling off toward the door that would lead up to the backpackers.
Kensington
She didn't expect the other woman to come over, but when she did, a smile played across her lips and she twisted on her seat so that she could properly do it. After a moment, she noticed the way the woman was light on her feet and adjusted so she could offer the seat she'd had, scooting to another. "Here, take my seat. And of course." She smiled, taking the song book with gentle hands. "What's your name?"
Fang Song
"Thank you," she said as she all but collapsed into her seat, her smile waning only a bit. "Fang Song," she replied, a tad breathlessly. "I'd love to ask you some questions, but I'm not feeling too well. If you plan to come back sometime..." What was she doing? She was assuming an actress would care about her thoughts and her wants - or that she even planned to stay in Harper Rock.
Kensington
"I'm probably going to become a regular, I have some questions I'll need to ask more locals as Lancaster has been some sort of help towards an angle I'm working on," She said, smiling as she began to write, looking up at the other, "why don't you and your mother?" the tone of her voice lifting showing she wasn't too sure, "join me sometime? My treat." Her pen moved over the page afterwards, 'To Fang, thank you for being a fan. May all your wishes come true, with love, Kensi.' once she was finsihed, the sorceress handed it over. "Maybe later on, if you guys aren't busy?"
Fang Song
"That would be wonderful!" Her voice broke a bit, and she turned her head, the sound of her cough echoing off the walls before she shook her head. "If I can talk mama into allowing me a little more freedom," she teased, before her gaze landed on the older Asian, who was already standing. "This is wonderful, Kensington. Thank you." With a quick snap of her wrist, she closed the songbook and tucked it safely back into her bag as her mother neared them.
Mei Xing
kept an eye on her daughter, hand waving idly to the man that had stepped away, bidding him a casual farewell. She saw a shadow pass over the window and all but jumped out of her skin. She frowned, checking her watch as she dropped her things back into her bag, leaving several bills on the table, tucked beneath her daughter's uneaten food. "Fang, dear," she murmured as she stood, moving to walk by her daughter, gently grasping her elbow. "It's time for us to go. Now." She turned to the woman with her and gave her a nod of her head. "Kenny Maverick." She then tugged at her daughter's arm, moving toward the door.
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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Lancaster`s area. Participants and rewards were: Lancaster dArt earned 2535 RPP. Kensington earned 1950 RPP. Ripper earned 231 RPP. Fang Song earned 1956 RPP. Mei Xing earned 1846 RPP.
It felt good to be back, even if Lancaster had had to go to the emergency to get a bullet dug out of his leg because he hadn't been able to do it himself. It was an adventure, honestly, though he had no idea who the guy was who'd shot him, or why -- or why the shooter now suddenly acted as if they were friends. The bandage clung to Lancaster's thigh, the wound throbbing in a way that the now-human was entirely unpleased by. Although he'd called himself Freddie, too many regulars and employees knew him as 'Lancaster' and he hadn't the energy to try correct them. So Lancaster it was.
Kensington
Harper Rock had been different again. Returning to a place where she'd once called home before she'd hit it well in Hollywood, where people didn't swarm her immediately was well, nice. It was one of the reasons that Kensington hadn't minded the idea of going out for a few drinks, the promise of enjoying herself one that had been a promise missing for ages. There was always too much drama, too much trouble with the press because of her friends. She'd returned home to write, and that's what she intended to do. With her hair twisted up and out of her face, she entered the Lancaster's with a smile across her lips and took in the surrounding area. Finding it to be perfect, she made her way towards the bar gracefully in her stilettos.
Lancaster dArt
Jessica, one of the waitstaff, had told Lancaster that he should go sit down somewhere. But honestly, Lancaster was sick of sitting and he felt like he had a lot to make up for. He'd given no excuse for his long absence, and he was still trying to remember everything, though the trivial and least harmful memories were quick to return. With a cloth over his shoulder and a smile on his face, he greeted the newcomer with genuine warmth. "Welcome to Lancaster's. What can I get you?"
Kensington
What was it that she used to drink in this town? It was a question that had her crinkling her nose in thought, a light gesture that would look as if she were trying to itch the spot without moving. As the man approached, she folded her duster over her lap once her legs were crossed. She smiled in return, the warmth of it received and given in time. "How about a Tom Collins?"
Ripper
sent the drink over to Lancaster dArtois.
Ripper
"I'll fix my own beverage, thank you."
Ripper
starts mingling among the patrons.
Lancaster dArt
"Tom Collins, coming right up," Lancaster said, turning to retrieve a glass from the shelf. Where Jessica, also tending bar, was buzzing around without hindrance, Lancaster was limping a little. He had a cane that he could use to help him, but he didn't see the point in such a cramped space. He spooned ice into and all the necessary ingredients into a cocktail shaker, shook it all up and poured the drink into a tall glass to serve, lemon wedges swimming within. He passed the drink over, only to be confronted by the same man from earlier.
Lancaster dArt
"Fix your... no, you don't work here. Stay on that side of the bar. I don't want any trouble..."
Ripper
*Ripper meanwhile had no intention of drinking anything stocked behind that bar and had already consumed several pints already upon entering in the space of several minutes. No one else seems to have noticed.
Kensington
She thanked the man quietly, lifting her eyebrow at the individual with a soft roll of her eyes afterwards. "Any thing he consumes, I'll pay for replacements. That should cover any sort of trouble, correct?" She offered to the man behind the bar, a shake of her head showing her distaste of it all.
Ripper
* half the patrons seem to leave the area within the next 15 minutes but the clamor of conversation is only slightly lessened.*
Ripper
burps.
Lancaster dArt
"It's not that kind of trouble I'm worried about," he said, trying to gauge from a distance whether the man was armed, and whether he had any intention of trying to shoot Lancaster again in public. It wouldn't do good to tell a customer about a potential armed crazy person, however, so he remained silent. "No need to pay extra," he said with a smile.
Ripper
"I'll leave everyone a nice tip." *he winks*
Ripper
*trails a finger over the polished counter top*
Ripper
"No hard feelings?"
Kensington
That type of trouble." She thought with a sigh. Deciding to ignore the other, she turned her attention to the man behind the bar. "If there's an issue with your shortage though, I don't mind. I wouldn't want to see this place close down for a few days." She shrugged, "But at least he's saying he'll tip. That's always a plus."
Ripper
"Two even." he jokes.
Lancaster dArt
"As I said, I don't want any trouble," he said to the guy. Of course there were hard feelings. There was something the guy had said which had Lancaster assuming the shot to the leg had nothing to do with his Shade wreaking havoc, but something else. Something from the past. For shits and giggles. Who does that? But he wasn't going to have that conversation in a crowded bar. "And," he said to the woman. "I don't think one man could drink me out of all my stock. It's fine."
Ripper
"You won't get any more from me." *raises a clear liquid shot he had palmed from off the table from a departed patron. "The very best health to you in your new beginnings."
Ripper
downs the shot and makes whiskey face.
Ripper
"Love to Teka." he leaves the area quickly before vomiting an upchuck into the snowbanks piled up along outside.
Kensington
"You'd be surprised." She looked mildly disgusted before a shake of her head, taking a drink from her glass. "Excellently made, thank you. Have you worked here long?"
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow and shook his head. People were... strange. And he wasn't upset that this particular patron was gone -- especially if he had no intention of actually spending money. He'd probably have been forcibly removed eventually anyway. "I have no idea who Teka is..." he muttered.
Lancaster dArt
He took a breath and slowly nodded. "Since the place opened..." he said with a small, knowing smile.
Kensington
"Must have a good relationship with the owner. It's been here for a while, I think?" She'd been around a few times when visiting family, but she had never stepped inside. There were always things to do, people to see.
Lancaster dArt
"Five or six years, give or take," he said. He grabbed the cloth from his shoulder to wipe his hands, before offering one to the patron. "Elliot Lancaster," he said.
Kensington
The brief confusion was evident as it dawned on her who she was talking to. A chuckle escaped past her lips, "Sorry about that. It's a pleasure. Kensington McKay." She wiped her hand on her skirt, removing the condensation from the glass before taking the offered hand, giving it a firm shake.
Lancaster dArt
"Why sorry? You weren't to know," he said with a wink, shaking her hand before releasing it. If Lancaster were one to pay any attention to tabloids or if he watched TV or movies beyond the old black and whites that he preferred, he might have recognised the other's name. As it was, he did not. "Are you waiting for someone or just enjoying a quiet drink...?"
Kensington
"Sometimes faces should be known." She laughed, "I thought you were just a normal employee, not the owner. Although, that's typically the sign of a good owner - someone not just sitting behind their books, it is not?" She took another sip from her drink before giving a shake of her head, "I am just enjoying a drink. Coming around to see if I can find some sort of muse."
Lancaster dArt
There were certain things Lancaster missed -- like being able to gauge what other people were feeling. Or to give them muse and inspiration when that's what they needed. But he didn't need powers to do that -- he just needed to try a little harder. He nodded. "I try to be personable. And I know how that feels. The... muse, thing. I used to play a lot, on that stage," he said, nodding to the stage near the back of the establishment. "I haven't been up there for... a long while. What kind of muse are you looking for?"
Kensington
It was a good question, what was she looking for. The screenwriter bit her bottom lip as she considered it. She'd written three romance films, all were medicore, really. Even as an actress, she wouldn't do it. "I haven't decided yet, to be honest. I'm a writer, trying to write another script. Sounds silly, I suppose, but I'm indecisive about this next pitch."
Fang Song
"You know, I can go out for a drink without my mother tagging along," she snapped, a touch of a whine to her otherwise soft voice. Without sparing a look over her shoulder to see if her mother had taken the hint - she already knew she hadn't - she tightened her hold on her tote and searched for a place to sit.
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster laughed, low but serene. "Well, you've come to the right place to find inspiration for a movie script. You should write one about vampires..." he said with a chuckle.
Mei Xing
"Mm. No. You can't." The small asian woman lifted her hand to push back the long strands of her dark hair, fussing with herself for not putting the silky cascade up in a quick do as she clutched at her purse. It was clear she wasn't very trusting with just about anyone near her bag. She let her dark gaze settle on her daughter. "You know how dangerous it is."
Kensington
"It's one of the reasons I came home to Harper Rock, really." She laughed, amused. "But unless there's a specific angle, you really can't do anything that hasn't been done before."
Lancaster dArt
"Mm, in my experience the vampires of Harper Rock aren't you're regular cup of tea," he said, leaning against the bar top. He'd noticed the two newcomers and would nod amicably in their direction, should they catch his eye. "It's not all black and white. What's your opinion on them? Vampires, I mean?"
Fang Song
"No, mother. I know how dangerous you -think- it is. I can stand to be on my own for ten minutes." With a toss of her own silken hair, the younger Asian finally slid into an unoccupied chair, legs tucked beneath her. When the man caught her attention, she moved to smile in his direction - only to freeze in place. There wasn't a lot of a girl in her situation to do but waste her days away watching television, so it took her no time to realize who was across from him. "Mom, look. It's Kensington McKay, from that show I binged in like, two days. Remember?"
Kensington
"That's true. I suppose I should see more before giving a full on nope on vampires, hm?" The woman thought about it. "Overall, I think they're probably like us. Trying to make a living, to survive in a world that's too cruel and unforgiving." Kensington stirred her drink with her straw, frowning, "I'm sure there's some that are nice and some that are, excuse my language, douchebags. Just like us."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster nodded. "Even then it's not so neatly cut. There are nice ones who have to deal with heightened emotions and blood lust. They hate it, but there are times they can't control it. They could do bad things but not mean it; they could be consumed by guilt. And there are... well, yeah. Those who think they're top of the food chain and ruin it for everyone else..." he laughed.
Mei Xing
The string of Chinese that left the woman's lips was a hiss, though even so, the Hu dialect rolled of her tongue quick and easy, though the words were meant to scold, there was a tenderness in them. She suppressed the urge to give the back of her daughter's head a quick, open-palmed rap, and instead she let her slide into her seat unmolested. She frowned at her daughter's indication, and suddenly became very aware of the rest of the room. Famous people brought unwanted attention. "Who? I've never heard of her. I don't know what you're talking about." She shook her head, looking down at the girl as she decided on what she should do. It would make less of a scene if she sat, and so, she did.
Fang Song
It was only natural for the woman to flinch when her mother began her scathing tirade, and flinch she did. In fact, she seemed to shrink, the seat she had claimed for herself threatening to swallow her whole. “There is no need for that, mama,†she muttered as she began to pick at the napkin dispenser. Every few seconds, she would sneak a glance towards the other pair, though she was careful in keeping her gaze on the bartender for only a few seconds. If her mother had her way, Fang would never see the light of day again, despite the doctors demanding she live a normal, healthy life. “You do to, mama. Remember, she is the one you said that looked like she needed a better upbringing,†she hissed.
Kensington
"Mm, that sounds dreadful." She frowned, thinking about it all. It wasn't a bad pitch, really. She had a notebook in her purse, but didn't reach for it. "So there's different types of vampires in this place?" She asked, "I couldn't imagine it, the heightened pull of emotions. That must be absolutely draining for them."
Mei Xing
Making a scoffing sound through her nose, Mei lifted a hand and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "That sounds like every one of those Western girls you are so obsessed with." She muttered and set her bag down at her side, hands rifling through her things until she found her wallet. She glanced up at her daughter, following Fang's gaze to the man behind the bar. "Does he look like a doctor to you, Fang Song? Because he looks like a bartender to me. Keep your eyes where they belong." she murmured a little louder, fishing several bills from her clutch. Canada. She had to remind herself that they were in Canada now. The cash she carried was an international convention of currency, and she had to remind herself almost daily that it was the Canadian bills that she needed here. "Now, what do you want to drink?"
Lancaster dArt
"There are," he said. "Everyone takes to that kind of life differently," he added, though he was distracted. Jessica was busy, and though most bars didn't offer table service Lancaster liked to. It showed initiative. "Excuse me for a second," he said, retrieving the cane from where he'd left it at the end of the bar and hobbled over to the two who'd just arrived. He didn't have a pen and paper; he'd remember their orders. "Can I get anything for you? I'll bring some water to the table, and there are some menus to your left if you would like food..."
Kensington
As Elliot excused himself, Kensington gave a nod of her head and waited for a few moments before pulling out the notebook and her pen. 'Vampires with heighted emotions? Perhaps one vampire feeling emotions and causes pain?' Some of it was scratched through. No, it would remind her too much of Twilight. She underlined the motions and pain. 'Vampire with guilt trip?' The words were underlined again as she took another drink and quietly began writing small summaries. Maybe it would help.
Fang Song
“I often wonder how you survive with that stick so far up your ***, mother,†she retorted, and though she soon busied herself with the napkin dispenser, she didn’t miss the flash in her mother’s eyes. “I’m not going to get pregnant just from looking at someone, you know.†Dropping the torn bits of napkin to the table, she settled back into her seat and drew a knee to her chest, just as her mother palmed a few bills. “I’ll take a rum and coke,†she muttered, though the sentence was nearly drowned out by the sudden rumble of the bartender. Lifting her gaze from the table, she made a point to smile at him, dark eyes brightening as she tapped a single digit against the menu. “I’ll take a plate of cheese fries, too.â€
Mei Xing
The flash was more of a cold glint of parental fury, a righteous hand of some ancient god was about to reach down from the heavens and give her wretched child a cuff the likes of which she had never imagined, and it would be her own hand that did the delivering. For the moment, however, she simply pressed her lips tightly together and sat in silent anger, the changing color of her face bringing out the dark specks fo her freckles as she glared at the young woman across the table. She was so proud of her, if she was honest, to stand up for herself as she was, but that she would be so blatantly disrespectful, after all that she had done for Fang, it was enough to make her furious. "Wine, please. White." She said without looking the man's way, before realizing she was being rude, and turned away from her impish child to give the man a terse smile. "That will be all."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow. "Okay. Rum and coke, white wine, cheese fries. Let me know if you need anything else," he said with a nod, turning away from the two women -- the tension was thick, and that was not an argument he wished to get between -- and went back to the bar. The food order was sent through to the kitchen via the register, and he hobbled back and forth to prepare the drinks -- along with water and two water glasses -- to put on a tray to take to the table. While he moved, he glanced at Kensington's notebook. "You have a few new ideas?"
Kensington
"A few, at least for now. I'll probably have to strike some out over time." Kensington looked up at him as he spoke, watching the man as he walked past. She'd begun to write a mildly rough sketch of a main character that may be based off him. "I usually go through about five or six before I find one I like. That doesn't even begin to cover the actual script writing process." She chuckled, "They look to be mother and daughter. Wouldn't want to get on her bad side, though." She said after looking over her shoulder and giving the two a smile in greeting.
Fang Song
“Of course, thank you,†she replied quickly, though it wasn’t quick enough. The man turned and left, and her gaze strayed to his cane. Even as powerful as he appeared, he was still hindered. For a moment, a touch of sadness entered her gaze, the feud with her mother forgotten. “It doesn’t matter what I do, does it? I’m always going to be…†She didn’t need to finish the sentence, because the wince that crossed her features when she untangled her legs to place her feet on the floor did it for her. “You didn’t have to be so rude to him, mama. He’s just doing his jo—“ The reprimand died on her tongue when she watched Kensington turn, her warm smile more genuine than she had anticipated. “Did you see that?!â€
Mei Xing
Lifting a hand, she idly swatted away at the imaginary physical representation of her daughter's attempt at scolding her. "He is a strong enough man. He can handle little old me." She had already turned to glance out the window, watching the street with an intent glare. She disliked being away from the safehaven they had found, and liked even less that her daughter insisted on being so... social. She took a slow breath through her nose to calm herself, hand patting at her bag idly as she shook her head at Fang's sudden fangirling. She blinked slowly, dark eyes turning to her spawn as she turned to follow her stare again, to the woman at the bar. Someone she had known, she had said. "See what?"
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster followed Kensington's glance toward the table. He nodded, then shrugged. "I think they're having an argument. The mother is kind of terrifying," he said with a chuckle. It was a jest. He wasn't actually terrified, but he could see how people could be. He felt bad for any boy the girl might bring home. For she did appear ... well, old enough to drink, but still young to Lancaster who guessed himself to be at least twice her age. This brought a broader smile to his lips. Yes, he was aging again. The silver had started almost immediately to streak his dark hair, and where it might have brought others dismay, it brought him only joy. He took the tray in hand. "Excuse me," he said to Kensington as he carried the tray -- very carefully and somewhat slowly -- over to their table.
Fang Song
As her mother turned to stare out the window, she found herself sinking further into her seat. Her hands ached, her chest burned, but still, she kept her features as relaxed as she could. Already, the telling signs of stress and worry began to mar her mother’s features, and the all encompassing guilt that came with it reared its head. Reaching across the table, she quickly grasped the older woman’s hand. “I told you I could come alone, mama. How else do you expect me to find a doctor or a lawyer to take me off your hands?†Her words were meant to tease, but she knew the woman would merely frown. “Kensington, she smiled at us. She really is a nice person. I wish I could live her life,†she said wistfully, even as the bartender approached their table once more, bringing another warm – if not slightly flirtatious – smile of her own.
Kensington
"Well, arguments happen. Families do that, blood or not." She gave a shake of her head, thinking of the ones she had on and off set. Her pen tip tapped against the piece of paper in front of her. The woman pondering afterwards.
Mei Xing
And frown she did. She couldn't tell Fang about the close calls, about all of the times that they had just barely escaped with their lives. She couldn't tell her daughter about all of the blood on her hands, about how it was her fault that Fang couldn't live that life. She sighed, the sound quiet as she did what she could to let go of some of that anxiety. She would have to be vigilant, without looking so worried. She let her face lighten up, and turned to the gentleman with their water. She offered him a kind smile, then, and took her glass. "Thank you, young man." she said warmly, placing a hand on the man's forearm. "If your leg is bothering you, my daughter is young. She has plenty of energy left in her legs. She can make the trip to the bar herself, can't you, dear?" Her dark eyes turned to her daughter, to see if she might see the small gift that she had just offered her, the slack that she had allowed her grip on the tether that kept her daughter close.
Lancaster dArt
The laugh that broke from Lancaster was genuine, and thoroughly amused. "Young? Oh, you flatter me," he said. His Australian accent was broad and only lent warmth to the whole exchange. The two women were both younger than he was -- or so he assumed, just by looking at them. "A few more years and I'll claim half a century," he said. If there were any flirtatious smiles he paid them no mind; he was taken, and he assumed himself too old for her. He wondered what Hannah would do once he reached his half a century and she was still as young as she always was. "My leg is fine, thank. It reminds me I'm alive," he said, helping to deposit the drinks upon the table.
Fang Song
When the man laughed, her smile only warmed – though it was her mother’s actions that allowed her to relax. For the moment, she was allowing her freedom. It would only be a small taste, but it was more than she had been allowed in years. “If you’re certain,†she responded, though the flirtatious glint in her eye had dimmed. It hadn’t been for his benefit. While he was attractive, she knew her limits. She wouldn’t be allowed to date – nor, would she want to, should he return interest. She would wish her ailment on anyone, let alone the man in her life. No, the smile had been for her mother, to test her limits – and, for a brief moment in time, she had won. Holding that victory tight to her chest, she carefully lifted her rum and coke and took a small sip. “May we have your name? I do not think it polite to yell waiter across the bar,†she teased.
Lancaster dArt
"I'm certain," he said. "Most people call me Lancaster," he added. He might have offered a hand, but he was holding an empty tray in one hand, and a cane in the other.
Mei Xing
lSo far, so good. Fang hadn't run out the door and into the night to get herself shot, to wind up at the bottom of the river. She just smiled at the man's laughter, and gave a gentle, quiet chuckle as she took her drink from the table, sipping lightly at her wine. "If you insist, dear. Though I have to give the girl some excuse to run over to that bar and meet her hero." She smiled, and let her eyes slide to her daughter as she tipped her head toward the bar. "Go on, then."
Fang Song
"Lancaster? That's a strange name," said the girl called Fang. Of course, as soon as she realized it, she couldn't help but duck her head, because now it was only fair to give her name in return. With a quick clear of her throat, tucked a curl behind her ear. "I'm Fang Song, and this is Mei Xing, my mother - and, mama, I will go when you finish your wine."
Lancaster dArt
Fang Song and Mei Xing. They weren't strange so much as foreign, and Lancaster wasn't going to judge foreign. Though he did wonder how often Mei Xing had been called 'Amazing'. "It's nice to meet you," he nodded to them both. "And Lancaster is a surname. My given name is Elliot, but ..." he shrugged. Nicknames weren't often chosen by those who wore them. Lancaster glanced toward the bar. "...your hero?"
Kensington
As she finished writing, Kensington crossed her t's and dotted her eyes. Afterwards, the woman sighed and balled up the piece of paper she had been working on before throwing it into the nearest trashbin. It swept the sides of the rim before falling properly into the bin, causing her to relax her shoulders. It'd be awkward to have to ask someone to pick it up. Lifting her hand, she pulled at a loose strand of hair as it dusted over her shoulders. "Stupid ideas." She grumbled to herself, halfheartedly. She'd get it. She wasn't a one hit wonder, she knew it.
Mei Xing
nodded and made a gesture at the bar. "The woman, there. I forget her name. Kerry Ton or something. Loved her on the t.v. Couldn't tear her away, even to eat." She chuckled and took a longer sip from her wine. "And a pleasure to meet you, Lancaster. Sounds very Saxon."
Fang Song
"... Kensington McKay. Who in the world is Kerry Ton?" With a shake of her head, she eased herself from her chair, and though she only wavered once, she managed to keep herself upright. "She was in Monsters. It was a very good television show. I watched the entire series in two days, as embarrassing as that sounds. I had nothing else going for me," she muttered, though she kept her smile warm. "Excuse me. I am going to see if I can get an autograph. It'll be a grand thing before I die. Mama, don't eat him."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster arched a brow. "I had no idea," he said. "Goes to show how much TV I watch," he laughed. Even with this new information he doubted he'd treat Kensington any different. He frowned as Fang stood and seemed to waver -- he was ready to drop the tray to catch her, if he needed to. But he hadn't needed to. He then turned back to Mei. "... I'm not very tasty."
Mei Xing
"Right, Kerriton McVeigh. That's what I said." She nodded, the motion sagely in every ounce of its demeanor, like she had been right all along. "The show. Critters. She was glued to that television." She muttered the last part, and rubbed thin fingers across her knuckles, taking another sip from her wine as she grimaced at her daughter's lack of respect for her condition. She wasn't going anywhere, so long as Mei had a say in it, and she would always have a say. She shot the girl a glare, then, and shoo'ed her with a flick of her wrist. "Hardly the sort of snack I'm after, Fang. Behave yourself, or I'll have your ear." She turned to the man at her side and offered him a small grin. "Don't worry, I'm particular about my snacks."
Kensington
A page was turned as Kensington began to write again. At least, or so it seemed. She liked the character basis that she'd come across. A tall and charming vampire, guilt ridden by the life that he had been forced into. 'Maybe a cult of vampires?'
Fang Song
"I give up," she muttered as she made her way across the bar, each step carefully selected to ensure she stayed upright. It was already nearing the end of her limit, and yet, she refused to give in. She refused to allow her disease to rule her life. "Kensington," she greeted, one hand going to her tote to pull out her song-book and pen. "Do you think I could get your autograph? Maybe then my mother will get your name right."
Lancaster dArt
Lancaster couldn't tell anymore, who was vampire and who was not. Would there be a vampire mother-daughter duo? Why couldn't there be? And they didn't both need to be vampires... but then, it could also all just be a jest. His mouth opened to respond but a door had opened somewhere near the bathrooms, and Kristina came rushing toward him. "Mr Lancaster, there's a leak upstairs. A pipe... one of the bathrooms..." she said, glancing warily at the customer. Something told Lancaster there was more to the story. He turned back to Mei and nodded. "Sorry, excuse me. I think this requires my attention," he said. He didn't disturb Fang or Kensington, but handed the tray to Kristina to run back to the bar. "Hope to you back again soon," he nodded to Mei before hobbling off toward the door that would lead up to the backpackers.
Kensington
She didn't expect the other woman to come over, but when she did, a smile played across her lips and she twisted on her seat so that she could properly do it. After a moment, she noticed the way the woman was light on her feet and adjusted so she could offer the seat she'd had, scooting to another. "Here, take my seat. And of course." She smiled, taking the song book with gentle hands. "What's your name?"
Fang Song
"Thank you," she said as she all but collapsed into her seat, her smile waning only a bit. "Fang Song," she replied, a tad breathlessly. "I'd love to ask you some questions, but I'm not feeling too well. If you plan to come back sometime..." What was she doing? She was assuming an actress would care about her thoughts and her wants - or that she even planned to stay in Harper Rock.
Kensington
"I'm probably going to become a regular, I have some questions I'll need to ask more locals as Lancaster has been some sort of help towards an angle I'm working on," She said, smiling as she began to write, looking up at the other, "why don't you and your mother?" the tone of her voice lifting showing she wasn't too sure, "join me sometime? My treat." Her pen moved over the page afterwards, 'To Fang, thank you for being a fan. May all your wishes come true, with love, Kensi.' once she was finsihed, the sorceress handed it over. "Maybe later on, if you guys aren't busy?"
Fang Song
"That would be wonderful!" Her voice broke a bit, and she turned her head, the sound of her cough echoing off the walls before she shook her head. "If I can talk mama into allowing me a little more freedom," she teased, before her gaze landed on the older Asian, who was already standing. "This is wonderful, Kensington. Thank you." With a quick snap of her wrist, she closed the songbook and tucked it safely back into her bag as her mother neared them.
Mei Xing
kept an eye on her daughter, hand waving idly to the man that had stepped away, bidding him a casual farewell. She saw a shadow pass over the window and all but jumped out of her skin. She frowned, checking her watch as she dropped her things back into her bag, leaving several bills on the table, tucked beneath her daughter's uneaten food. "Fang, dear," she murmured as she stood, moving to walk by her daughter, gently grasping her elbow. "It's time for us to go. Now." She turned to the woman with her and gave her a nod of her head. "Kenny Maverick." She then tugged at her daughter's arm, moving toward the door.
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This thread was submitted via a live roleplay chat in the Lancaster`s area. Participants and rewards were: Lancaster dArt earned 2535 RPP. Kensington earned 1950 RPP. Ripper earned 231 RPP. Fang Song earned 1956 RPP. Mei Xing earned 1846 RPP.