[From the Ashes] Bird is the Word (Scene 1)

L2: Light Forest

D51-D52-D53-D54-D55        Down from the old dirt road, steadily leads a  
 |   |    |   |   |   path into a lighter section of the woods where the  
D58-D59-D60-D61-D62   trees run thinner around and about. Nature just on the
          |           starting edge within the area as smaller bushes and  
         [5m**           shrubs dart here and there as one passes along the  
[5m          |           way. The road itself is mostly gravel and dirt as well
[5mF4--F5---F6--F7--F8   only goes so far until it comes on up to a muddy bank
[5m |   |    |   |   |   in which it abruptly stops seeming to be impassable  
[5mF14-F15-F16-F17-F18   with vehicles at least, though as far as other      
[5m                      transportation such as walking or hiking would be    
easier.                                                                    
     The beginning of the light woods starts with a spattering of lush    
trees and the light sounds of birds and some few squirrels can be seen along
the way darting here and there. Passing on through deeper becomes more vivid
in colors as well as denser. The view of animal tracks come more into play
the farther one goes. In the lighter section of the forest it does seem that
there are signs of human presence here, whether for sport of licensed      
hunting or other favorite hobbies.                                        



The species known as Canis KillusEverythingicus is at times elusive, even for the mighty spies known as Corax, but sometimes they are spotable; as Polk would be able to notice as he spotted a wolf in wolf form but that just seemed...a bit more, watching a human strolling idly though the woods mildly clueless. Polk would recognize the guy who had tricked the boy earlier.

Polk has met Talos once, under strange circumstances, so that underscores the concern of a wolf following a man. It gets his attention. He comes to land nearby. He'll immediately use a power on the wolf, Scent fo the True Form, to see if the wolf is Garou or not. In case there's danger here

The wolf looks at Polk and grunts, almost rolling its eyes. Polk can definitely tell that it is a Garou.

Polk flies lower, flapping and landing near the wolf. "Hi, I'm Jim. Don't worry about that guy. He's a wizard but nothing too terrible. Helped me the other day. If he's intruding I can tell him to clear out."

The wolf grunts with amusement <>

Polk is surprised by this. "He's.... oh." he trills. Then lowering his voice a bit, turning. "Moon by Night, hi. Well, that's fine. It can wait. I'm sur eyou have a good reason for not telling him. He didn't seem to knwo anything about this stuff when he met me."

She 'nods' with a grunt and lift of her tail. <>

Polk trills again. "He does seem nice. A kid was throwing rocks at me, and he decided to play a joke on the kid. With Harry Potter tricks. Harmless and mayb e teaching a lesson. This was at the beach."

<> She literally lols her tounge and chuffs, <>

Polk bobs his head and flaps. "Sure, that's fine. I can do that. IT's a fair deal. Moon by Night. Do you live in the city, or out here?"

<> she lolgrins, <>

Polk bobs again, looking over toward Talos. "McFabishams. I'm Jim Polk. I live here in town. I can get you an address if you need to talk sometime. Otherwise if you can give me directions I can fly out your way. so you think he's in danger?"

<> She chuffs, <> She stands, as if she plans to go herself soon enough.

Polk has to take a moment to shift. Wel he doesn't have to, but he's far less likely to forget this if he shifts, takes the email address down, and then shifts back. "Nothing major. There was some stuff going on, involving a Leviathan and the local dragons, but that seems to be on a back burner for now."

<
Meanwhile, Talos walks haplessly down the path, whistling a happy tune.

Polk rolls his head and flaps a goodbye to the leaving wolf. He then sees abut following Talos some. Flying from tree to tree, keeping an eye on the guy. Not trying to hide, but hey, it's just a bird. Though a large one.

The highly observant bird would notice...little things. The first is a shadowed winged figure, very small indeed darting in amongst the trees, almost a shadow really. But there are at least three...maybe four other odd sounds, tracking them all at ones is hard, but they are ALL different and ALL moving with Talos as he walks.

Polk lands and perches, really watching. Then he moves again. The bird flies rapidly, doing his best to follow, chase the winged figure. Really putting his flying skills to a rare test.

The figure drifts in and out of some kind of mists. If Polk didn't know better, he'd swear it was a pixie. Was he supposed to be able to see those? WHY was he seeing it? But it looked like it was spying on Talos.

Polk doens't know anything about what hte's supposed to be able to see or why. But he continues to follow it, trying to get close. This got serious in a hurry.

[From the Ashes] Battle From Beyond the Stars

It's a busy morning in the heart of downtown Prospect. People are getting to work, or doing work in selling goods and services to the people who are at work. Near the Metro Transit Station, a hive of activity, stands a bum. Dressed in a faded Padres t-shirt and camouflage pants, he holds up a sign "THEY ARE COMING FROM BEYOND THE HORIZON." Though that's not the notable part. The notable part is that when pigeons land near him, they appear to... turn into penguins.

Talos walks up, casual as you please, and asks the dude, "So. Is that the Horizon wireless plan or Horizon cable? Also did you do that or Horizon?" He in the mean time waves to the Penguins, "I am the leader you want to be taken to. Welcome to Earth. We have wonderful fish tacos.

Renee had been out in the city, shopping for a few things, when she blinks at the sight. She just shakes her head when she sees Talos talking to the man and says nothing, trying not to encourage him to make things worse.

Some people do notice the penguins. They stop and take pictures. But it's generally assumed that they're there on purpose or something. So there are plenty of gawkers. When approached, the man in the Padres shirt tenses, and looks at Talos. He's dirty. Scruffy. A little wild. About 6 foot tall, long, curly hair, unshaven for a week. "Not them, them." HE then points toward what part of the sky is actually visible from this part of towntown, between the tall buildings."

Talos looks up and says, "So we talking Giants, Cloud People or Aliens?" He rubs his chin and pets the Penguin nearest him. "You know...ravens are cool enough to talk, the least you could do is TRY...I mean...seriously." He considers a moment and then extends his senses. Oh wait, he doesn't have those. So he just opens his mind.

Talos finds nothing of interest in the smaller minds in the crowd. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Renee bites her lip as she continues to look up at where the man is pointing trying to scan the sky for anything there. Since the crowd seems normal she is definitely interested in what has the mans attention.

The Padres man watches as another peson is looking around, seeing if she's going to do anything. He then looks back to Talos. "Aliens. From the Horizon." he points again as another pigeon lands, and poof, a black and white penguin it is now. When Talos tries to talk to the penguin, the man waves his hand at the penguin.

The penguin croaks "Bye bye and buy bonds."

Talos has seen this movie. He nods to the guy and says, "I got this." He goes to a nearby bodega. He buys a coke. No, not a can; the bottle. The old glass kind. He walks next to the guy with the sign. Talos then turns it upside down and holds it upside down and makes some gibberishy sounding noises with clicking sounds and says, "Take it back!" He then throws the bottle up.

The Bottle spins and spins and spins and where she stops, no one knows! Well except straight back down into Talos's smart alek smart ass yawp, lodging itself there, perfectly intact as he flails around like Beaker trying to get it out.

Renee moves over to Talos concerned trying to help him to get it out. Clearly concerned for him and forgetting about the spot up in the sky she was looking at.

The Padres man is taken aback by Talos's behavior. The bottle of Mexican Coke held out, and then put into his mouth. "Careful, the lids on those things will cut your throat, and let the mind control nanobots in." He then waves to the penguin again.

Renee with all the emotions of the crowd around her she tries to focus more on the serenity she feels from the Padres man, as she helps Talos, "He is so calm Talos. So peaceful."

Padres man blinks and watches Talos do his thing. He also watches Renee. Then adjusting his sign, he once again waves a hand at the penguin.

The pengun turns to face the others, and squawks "Duck and cover will keep us from being badly hurt, too, if and atom bomb ever explodes nearby."

Talos keeps this simple.  He works his will to simply subtly incline to the crowd what all but the dumbest among them are already doing anyway...leave.  He has no idea what this guy is but he's bad news, and if Talos (HA! TALOS?!) is going to deal with this he needs to Muggles to back off.    He puts his hands over his head and crouches, encouraging Renee to do the same as he finally pushes the stupid bottle out of his mouth with his Tongue.  "Duck" he whispers to Renee...meanwhile as he hums discordant music, waves of emotional displeasure and a subtle desire to leave wash over those in the area besides Renee.

The crowd was dispersing anyway indeed, since people have to go to work. There are people passing by, but nobody's really stopping anymore.

Renee ducks as Talos tells her too covering her head, not completely sure why but she trusts Talos. Even if she looks crazy, maybe it will protect them in some way..

The man continues to watch. The use of powers does get his attention, judging by the way his eyes go right to Talos when they are used. But he just waves at the Penguin once more, now looking intently at the bird.

The penguin croaks this time "From the Horizon. Stop them all."

Talos walks to the dude and says, "Dude. You need to Phone Home. You know what I mean right? Phone Home? Call in the allies? Your back up. Your buddies. Your pals. Flip out the ole communicator and contact em.

Padres man takes a deep breath, brow lowering, squinting at Talos. He then relaxes his posture, stnading up straight, and steps right up to Talos. Then, you guessed it, a hand wave.

The penguin waved at just stands there, which makes Padres man look at it with an eye twitch

Talos says "See? You can't rely on our friends...just pick up a phone and dial 1800 ....whoever it is in the government that stops aliens"

Renee despite her better judgement she moves forward in a very non threatening manner towards the man.

Padres man squints and looks back at Talos. "I'm not going back. Don't try that again." He growl.

"Right. You wanna talk normal? Dude. You turn pigeons into Penguins. That is not a good thing. I'm not gonna threaten or kung fu you, but you seem to wanna do good. So let's go away from the middle of the city and figure this out neh?"

Renee offers a reassuring hand to the man, "We do not mean you any harm Sir. We only want to help."

The penguin also puffs up its chest and squawks "Main energizer hit captain. It's no use. She's dead in space."

Renee offers softly, keeping an eye on the penguin, "Going back where? We won't make you go back."

Talos says "So...your space ship is dead? OK...um....is there like...an Admiral we can talk to for you?"

The Padres man takes another step back, leaning where he did before. He looks at the penguins and sighs. "You can't make me. I won't go." He then waves at them a few times. Whelp. Too much. A car pulls up. Black, gleaming. From it step out a man and a woman. The man in a well-tailored black suit. The woman in a black blouse and matching black pencil skirt. They push past Talos and Renee, stepping up to Padres man.

Talos considers trying to rescue the poor soul....but...what would he DO? He's already tasted the bitter nasty pill of paradox again for this guy...and for all he knows, this IS 1800 dial a Stop an alien.....

Renee steps back in confusion unsure what to do, she just made a promise to the man, and wants to try to help him. "Who are you?"

Woman in Black turns to face Talos and Renee as the Man in Black begins to try to struggle with Padres Man. The Man in Black is remarkably strong, his movements precise, and Padres man has no chance. "Citizens, relax. This man is a... war veteran, who is very sick, and needs to be placed into a hospital urgently."

The man is screaming inside, of ... people. Yes, people coming from beyond deep space, who seek to destroy us all.
.. the people might have penguin noses.

The Man in Black can be stepped around easily. But.. by that time, he's already holding Padres man securely. One arm pinned behind Padres man's back, the other hand at his side. The Man in Black begins to try to walk Padres man to the car, though is stopped by Renee in the way. So Woman in Black steps up. "Please stand aside. You can see he needs his mental health professional.

Talos puts his hand on Renee's shoulder...stopping her. He doesn't know what is going on here, but the man manhandling the 'veteran' is obviously a threat; something hideous. And this pigeon penguin thing is dangerous...he isn't sure why, but he will learn why. He can see why Captain Weirdo isn't calling these guys for help...but this is the help Talos was trying to get him to call.

Renee is stopped by Talos hand on her shoulder reluctantly and closes her eyes. She looks at the man apologetically and lets him go.

The Woman in Black nods. "Thank you citizen. This veteran will be well taken care of, and his conditioni... condition will be improved rapidly." The Man in Black then brings Padres man to the care, putting him in with the ease with which a man might put a doll in the back seat. He then gets in the car. "Good day," the woman says before going into the other side of the car, which then takes off quickly.

[From the Ashes] Renee Helps Her Uncle

The Tandelore bookstore is located in one of the older section of town. While the streets are paved, you can practically imagine cobblestone streets all around it. It is small and has letters that seem decades old on the front that simply says, "Book store." How it has survived when so many other shops like it have died is a bit of an amazing mystery but inside it is a book lover's paradise with all kinds of nooks and crannies. It seems like some used book stores might, but there are no used book policies or turn in sections anywhere.

Renee steps into the bookstore in awe, inhaling of the history that surrounds this place and gently lets her fingers run over the spine of one of the old books that fill the shelves. Her eyes bright blue and sparkling with curiosity as she looks around the store for a moment.

The bell rings and there is a small cry of "Good morning" from the back. A few patrons wander about, looking at various rare and obscure tomes. It has a feel of distinguishment to the place, of prestige and age. There is a small stuffed owl in the corner that seems to stare at her, with original artwork crammed on every wall that doesn't have a shelf. And those places are few and far between. The register is clearly mechanical with an old fashioned analog phone right next to it.

Renee smiles softly at the voice and looks up at the owl. "Good Morning Sir." Stepping further into the store, in search of the voice. Still her eyes glancing over the titles of books as they catch her interest. The entire store like walking back in time for her and she catch faint glimpses in her mind, and pulls her hands away from the old tomes.

The proprietor, Zebidiah, comes out and looks around. The voice is familiar to him. He looks right at her and says, "Do I know you?" There are several rather impressive titles and she finds herself near the archaeology and cultures of the world section. This is high value stuff and only about half of it is really old.

Renee keeps a tone of deep respect as she answers, "You may have known my uncle Sir." She closes her eyes a moment, "Lewis DeRossi?" Her eyes meeting his own as she considers him thoughtfully, and wondering if she should be here. "I am his neice, Morgan."

Zebidiah beams, "Ah Lewis. How is he these days? It's been some time since I've seen him. Pleasure to meet you. You know, I have a book of his he lent me, I never did get it back to him. Completely slipped my mind actually.

Renee takes a deep breath and offers softly, taking her time on how to answer his question. "I am sorry to say he has passed away Sir."

He blinks and mutters to himself, "Don't read the obituaries, she said. You'll be an old man before your time, she said." He sighs and looks at her. "I am terribly sorry for your loss. How well did you know your Uncle?"

Renee takes a deep breath and offers softly, taking her time on how to answer his question. "I am sorry to say he has passed away Sir."

The man gently puts his hand on Renee's shoulders as she takes a deep breath. "I am so sorry. I saw a picture of you from 10 years ago. You have grown into a lovely creature. Your empathy is appreciated. Let me get you the book." He motions her toward the back

Renee steps to the back as he guides her. A light blush reaching her cheeks. "Thank you Sir for such a kind compliment." Still this is very hard for her and she is trying to keep her emotions from spilling out.

He smiles and pinches her cheek a bit, and then goes to the back. He keeps his thoughts to himself and fortunately has a mind shield so Renee can't immediately sense them. He grabs a book in a quaint little office that has sunlight pouring through the window

Renee's cheeks grow a bit redder from the pinch, and she bites her lip. "May I ask, how you and my uncle met?" She is obviously a bit curious about him and tries only very subtly to get an impression from him.

He looks at her and says, "Well, we met when he was investigating the old Holstead house. It was a very harrowing experience." She might recall that her Uncle had been with some people then who had heart the dead.

Renee offers softly remember bits and pieces. "You were trying to fight against dead?" She looks confused as that only brings up its own set of question. "What kind of dead?"

Laughing he shrugs, "Well it ended up that way. Horrible ghosts, like nothing we ever saw before or since. I ended up learning....things....and your uncle became obsessed with the herafter. We exchanged some information but it was...not good.

Renee shakes her head. "What kind of Ghosts?" Now she is really confused, because is that not what her uncle is now. "Do you still chase them? What kind of horrible ghosts? What things did you learn?" Her questions slow, and her face unable to hide the emotions and thoughts going through her mind, in fact she is starting to look a little overwhelmed. "Please tell me?"

"Angry, dark creatures, monstrous parodies of what they were in life. No, heavens no, I avoid them at all costs. I've warded this place from any kind of ghost. I've learned that ghosts have powers and secrets, dark terrible secrets.

Renee is trying to catch her breath, "You are a...Mage? The tomes here full of... " Her mind trying to make connections and piece the puzzle together. Her uncle one of the ghosts, that his friend now avoids. The color draining from her face. Surely her uncle would never harm her though. Even as a ghost. Her eyes closing as she tries her best to regain her barings.

He laughs, "I'm a man who knows a few parlor tricks. There are...rumors...legends of brilliant near perfect creatures called mages who should always be listened to, but the sheer perfection described is what causes me to disbelieve they exist, but I have learned a few rituals and spells.

Renee shakes her head at him, "A few parlor tricks? You said yourself enough to ward your store from ghosts, and who knows what else? Why should they be listened to? Why do you doubt they exist?" Every answer begging her to ask more questions.

"Oh, well it was a book written by a mage who seemed too wise to be real. This is an imperfect world and I've never met anyone perfect. So I might believe in ...well, almost anything but not that. And warding, summoning and binding? I can do some of that. a few other minor things. Did your uncle teach you about an of this?

Renee offers softly, "He tried to teach me as he could, but he was busy a lot. He let me read his books anytime he visited, but I never actually practiced any of what I read. I felt things though, heard things. And Uncle Lewis tried to protect me."

He nodded, "Well...there are special volumes that I can ...loan you or sell you as you can. I wouldn't trust most with them but in your case I can make an exception. Oh! Your Uncle's book, I nearly forgot

Renee blushes softly, "He really wanted me to have it. It was important. I thank you for holding onto it for so long. I was wondering if I could borrow some of your books on archaeology as well? I promise I will guard them with my life."

He grrms and shrugs, "I don't lend, but I do rent very cheaply since you are your uncle's neice.

Renee smiles at that and offers, "How much would you charge? I also do some restoration work, if every need any done."

He beams, "Oh I have so much restoration work I need its not even funny, yes, that should do nicely." He goes back and finds a thick leather tome, at least twenty pounds and comes forward, offering it to Renee. As soon as she touches it, she is aware of a secret compartment inside of the book.

[Prospect from the Ashes] Zevran and Miasma Meet

: Smoke and Barley - Main Room

     The smell of spices, fire and broiling meat assails one's nose upon entering into the bar and grill. The soft murmurs of patrons seem a non-ending drone as the door shuts, blocking the sounds of the city off. Wood paneled walls are adorned with hanging plants and pictures of forests bringing the feel of wild places indoors. Full spectrum lighting keeps the outdoor daylight feel of the restaurant by shining on the plants and pictures.
     In the center of the room is a large curved grill, a specialty built item that allows guests to watch their meats cooking and the Chef at work. Thick oaken tables are laid around the grill for those that would enjoy the dance of the flames as it sears the meat. The tables have large leather seats and are set for the barbecue feast to come, with a bucket that holds bottles of spicy sauces and piles of napkins.
     To the right of the front door, taking up half the room, is the bar.The bar is a deep mahogany, a gorgeous piece with slightly dulled brass poles running along to provide foot rests, and an armrest, with comfortable stools lining it to allow others to sit. A mirrored shelf rests behind the bar, with light shining up through the drinks to allow them to be seen clearly. A chalkboard on a wall lists out the micro brews of the month. Beyond the bar a section is marked off and three cork dartboards hang on the wall.
     A small hallway leads the way to a set of stairs, a private area, bathrooms and kitchen. The door to the private room is marked "members only" and locked.

Contents:
Zevran

Obvious Exits:
Out                    

Ever since he's woken up from his prolonged sleep, Zevran has been only able to hold down one particular source of food: Meat. His bony frame sits at one of the back tables, blue rogue's belted jacket hanging off the back of a chair. He wears an Armor-All T-Shirt, with a cloth mask attachement that currently pools around his neck as he eats the slab of ribs he's ordered. Black hair tied back in a high ponytail, the burn-scar tissue on the left side of his face shows, potentially making other patrons whisper curiousities to one another.

Miasma has been told that 'networking' is vital for his career advancement. So he'll do what he has to and moves to the cigar bar, but the tip he got of a police council being here isn't panning out. Miasma is less than thrilled but he moves to the bar and relaxes, ordering a glass of vodka and a cigar and sits a while and listens.

Storm grey eyes glance towards the new addition, as Zevran continues to chew. Conflicting perceptions of different lives lived suggest usefulness in strength, but that true value lies in loyalty. He frowns, as if an unpleasant thought crosses his mind.

Miasma lights the cigar with his own lighter. He doesn't really smoke, but a wise man is always prepared. As he puffs a bit, blowing a small ring, he sees Zevran's inquisition. "What's the score?"

Zevran's eyes narrow at the cigar being lit, his host's intolerance to breathing obstructing substances always on his mind. "Well, good Sir. I am a curious fellow, only wishing to know what you are comfortable to offer about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

Miasma is not Machiavelli, but he spots the eye motion and puts out the Cigar. Guy hasn't dissed him so there is no reason to antagonize. "Well...I'm like an onion. I'm an ogre." He smiles referencing the movie.

There's a long pause, as Zevran's eyes unfocus as he tries so desperately to -remember- something. A moment of realization, and he smiles. The burned skin crinkles along the side of his face. "Ah, yes! A Shrek reference. I am a Blacksmith by personal hobby and passion. Haven't been at it for quite a while, myself. I'm Zevran, by the way."

Miasma says "A blacksmith? Really?" He leans in curious, "Nice to meet you. Is that like an artisianal thing? Not many horses around these days need shoing. Pleased to meet you, name's Miasma."

Zevran chuckles, knowing that most folks assume the limitations for his craft. "Nice to meet you, Miasma. While I -can- make shoes for horses, I specialize more upon bladesmithing and armor smithing. Jewelry making from time to time as well. And yes, while I can make things that are functional, it's more for flair when the SCA has events."

Miasma says "SCA huh? I've heard of those guys. Heard they're a bit like bikers in some ways. I'm a cop myself. Special projects so I have to deal with all the political bullshit this city has to offer in more ways than one. But its cool. Do you enjoy it? The smithing that is?"

Zevran's eyes glaze for the briefest of moments as a grin splits his face. "Of course! Creating with my hands is such an enjoyable activity. I will never grow tired of it." The mention of law enforcement draws his curiousity. "What kinds of special projects do you partake in, when dealing with law enforcement and politics?"

Miasma says "Well, sometimes its a VIP duty, like if the President or governor visits. Sometimes its crowd control for something that might emberrass the mayor; or a high profile killing or theft. We're basically extra manpower for whatever the mayor needs to keep from being emberrased."

"Ahhhhhh, yes. Protection, or clean-up crew. If my own efforts weren't so useful in the craft of my choosing, I would have served protection for a Duke myself." He sets the plate of finished bones aside, before cleaning up with a wet-nap. "I'm sure that when there are no projects available, you are still paid Salary, correct?"

Miasma considers this for a few moment before turning his head, "You mean as protection for a Duke...in the SCA?" He nods, "I am. I have my own...side investigation. Aside from it being a fast track, its a great way to get to do what you want; almost as good as a homicide detective, but I can take the cases I like as long as I don't get in others way....

Zevran nods enthusiatically, tossing the used wet-nap onto the plate. Upon further observation, the palms of his hands and the inside of his forearms are also burned. "Well done! Always good to see someone who has found a way to make their profession work for them."

Miasma says "Thanks. It helps that my dad is a Captain as well. Friends in the right places." He thinks a moment, "SCA might be fun some time to learn a new martial arts. I hear those guys are hard core. Not for a while though, I have my own...side projects. So what kinda person do you normally do work for? Does it pay?"

Zevran shakes his head at the inquiry. "While there are formal positions for running the organization who schedules events, I am independantly wealthy, and do whatever it is that gives me pure inspiration."

Miasma says "Really? That must be nice. Did you get that from Blacksmithing or get it the old fashioned way?" Miasma puts the cigar away now that it has cooled down and won't singe his pack. He sips his vodka and listens."

The adventurous stick figure of a man adjusts his seat, so that he is slightly reclining. "I am the fourth son of a family who owns a global telecommunications business. I've invested my share wisely, but am not cut out for such ventures. Especially since my accident, I'm not one for public appearances. Let the older siblings have at it."

Zevran Trudeaux is a very slight young man, gangly in his height of 6'0" and 120 lbs soaking wet. Despite the lack of physical substance, there's a grace to him that is uncanny in his movements. His eyes are a stormy blu-ish grey, usually covered by wrap-around sunglasses above a cloth face mask. His long, black hair is pulled up into a high ponytail. Despite the weather or outside temperature on any given day, he's chosen to wear a very well made rogue's costume in dark blue and leather boots. The only exposed skin as he walks out and about are ears above the neckguard and fingers from fingerless gloves. A die-hard cosplayer, for sure. (Disfigured)

Miasma says "Accident?" He looks at the other man, trying to spot what might the result of the accident. He would continue the conversation but polite people don't mix subjects when dealing with such potential matters though he said it so casually it might be. He's cautious though. Miasma takes another sip from his Vodka."

"Yes. Well....it -wasn't- an accident." There's that bitter tone as Zevran's eyes avert themselves. "My rival, who was my best friend, my comrade-in-arms, had become smitten with a Lady who had taken a shining to me. He had grown so heated in his possessive jealously, that he had shoved my upper body onto the forge bank of coals at the Event we were participating in 6 months ago. Despite being rescued by other participants, the damage had been done. It was such a traumatic shock, that I did not awaken until recently."

Miasma says "Jesus Christ man, you have my empathy." He scowls, "Was this local? And has that asshole been prosecuted? I know people. I also know that sometimes people have...ways of getting around the system. A good lawyer and the like."

Zevran's eyes focus on Miasma once more, admiring the zeal in which he has for justice. "Oh, prosecution was the -least- of his worries. Yes, my family was quite...thorough, in dealing with him. I appreciate your sympathies, none-the-less."

Miasma says "....I'm gonna pretend they thoroughly saw him lawfully prosecuted in a legal and above board fashion." He grins widely, "But the least I can do is buy you a drink."

Zevran places spread fingers over his chest as he tilts his chin. "I would be delighted!" He stands, thin frame looking as if he'd be blown over by a stiff breeze at any second. There's a grace to his movements, however, that belies that. He fishes out his wallet, leaving payment and a hefty tip upon the table for the waitress before approaching a bar stool next to his new friend.

Miasma says "What's yer pleasure?"

Settling on the cushioned seat, Zevran takes a look at the selection available. "I'll have a Rum & Coke, if you please Madam?" He's always courteous with his dramatic flare and fake accent, causing the bartender to grin as she goes to fill the order. "So, what is it that you do to entertain yourself when not on duty?" Zevran turns to regard Miasma with the question.

He is about to order for Zevran but he does that for himself. Miasma orders a second vodka and relaxes. "I have a lot of hobbies. Lately I've been researching the occult. Interesting stuff. My maternal grandfather had some very interesting books, though my father would hardly approve." Miasma is curious about this Telco but lets the conversation flow naturally.

Zevran tilts his head at the admission. "The occult, you say? What kinds of books did he happen to have?" He wouldn't have guessed that Miasma was the type to peruse in such topics.

Miasma says "All kinds of things really. Some of it looks like sheer crap really, but there was 'legends of ancient times' and 'Mockery of Midnight' and 'Comes the Rhombus'...the most useful was actually just 'advanced meditative techniques'...I'm amazed it isn't more popular than it is; scares the crap out of me that it isn't. Makes you wonder if you know what I mean."

Zevran chuckles, fingers rapping gently upon the bar's wooden surface. "The most useful of books are carefully guarded treasures, not to be shared lightly with common folk. I'm sure your grandfather took that to heart."

Miasma says "Why? I mean the stuff this book teaches could revolutionize medicine. And I'm not one of these wackaloons that believes that the pharma companies are suppressing xyz to earn a buck. Maybe I'm better at it than most but...I dunno. If even a little bit of this stuff is true....I've got ideas. Probably shouldn't even be talking to you about it really."

Zevran's lips quirk, as he gives Miasma a shrewd look. "It's alright if you don't want to share. Perhaps it would be wise not to spread around such beautiful pearls of wisdom to swine, and all that. I hope that it's everything you are hoping for."

Miasma says "Well its not that I consider you swine Zevran....its just that if there is one thing I've learned, the only way to keep a secret between three people is if two of them are dead. And I don't hope for much. Hope is a sucker's game to me. I mean, its great as the opiate of the masses, but I don't put much stock in it myself; its too dangerous a drug. But more likely than not, yeah. Forget I mentioned it. So now that you have a second chance at life," Miasma sips and then asks, "got a bucket list?"

Zevran seems pleased that his new friend has a level head, before accepting the drink from the bartender. "Of course you weren't suggesting I was, and you're right about safety in singular numbers. Now that I am back..." He takes a moment to muse, taking a sip of the rum. "I'm not entirly sure. While I still enjoy the events, I feel I need to spread out and expand my creative talents."

Miasma says "Well I was gonna say. If I was independently wealthy I'd do a whole hell of a lot beside SCA. Though I am given to understand some of the girls there are pretty hot. Still, the uniform usually takes care of any dating needs. It's fucking magic I tell you." He swallows. "You should make one. It'll slip by, believe me."

That's a daring, if not dangerous, proposition. Especially coming from a cop. "I thought it was illegal to impersonate an officer." Zevran murmurs quietly to Miasma, nursing his drink as he observes his friend from the peripherie.

Miasma blinks a moment and then laughs, "Um....I wasn't suggesting you do Zevran. That's about one of the dumbest things a person can do. No, I meant that my own dating needs are taken care by being a cop. Look, if you flat out killed someone, we'd arrest you but you wouldn't piss us off. Its just not personal. If you impersonate a cop...lets just say some of my fellows are...deserving of the reputation that first responders have these days." More than half actually, but he wasn't saying that out loud. "I was just saying I didn't need to do SCA for that. But I am happy to act as wingman in the uniform any time you like.

Misunderstanding cleared up, Zevran grins as he puts the glass back down on the bar. "That's a generous offer you've made. I accept, should we meet again in a more relaxed setting." Normally, his strange manner of speech and flamboyant dress scares off normal thinking folk. Who normally bore him anyways.

Miasma raises his glass in toast, "To life. It's too short. Why not do neat things with it? That sure as hell doesn't mean a desk job, let me tell you that."
-Fin