damien (Yahoo! I.D. twisted_psychic_suffering) Smiles pleasantly at Emily, and then takes a puff of his pipe watching and leans back in his chair, the wood complaining as his considerable size puts a massive amount of weight on it. He closed his eyes and slipped his hands behind his head, relaxing. [...]
Emily Moyra Byrne In her observations, she caught brief glimpses here and there, but one stayed longer on her than the rest. That of a heavily-cloaked person, male (damien), before that one too ceased, outwardly disappeared even. Where that person had been, now there was an empty chair and table. Acting as if she was going to think about taking it then shrugging her shoulders, she ambled toward it. The rubber soles of her black hiking boots impacting the hard-bound floorboards underneath, creating a scratchy friction with the faint dust particles there. She reached the chair quickly, took hold of it, and eased her frame onto it. Adjusting herself to the table, she looked around some...and then...WHAM! A flurry of visions cascaded through her...mostly of love and then losing that love to death [...]
What a vision. It had been what he had seen:
damien [...]to the end of the war with the man standing over a casket, bandages wrapped around his chest mourning the death of his beloved, slowly on the man's back a pair of white wings form and as he turns the face and body alters to match his own. [...]
Emily Moyra Byrne [...] Obviously, the person that had been sitting there before had some baggage. Coming back to the here and now in a vaccuum of perception, Emily shook her head, and took a deep breath, letting it out as she refocused her gaze on the myriad of patrons here.
And that was pretty much it. That man had somehow or other disappeared and I never saw him again. If you ask me, he didn't look all that happy to be in the tavern. Though, at one point, I think he was trying to catch someone's attention because he took out a flute and started playing it loud enough to carry well across the place and well-over the voices of the others there. Ah, well, I don't know now. And it all seemed pretty inconsequential anyway. So, with that, I move on and tell more of my first experience in that tavern. The rest of that evening seemed pretty ordinary. I had a glass of water and thought about my half-sister more:
Emily Moyra Byrne [...] the nagging wonderment of when she would find her if ever. She wondered if the girl was still alive; if only she had something of Vicky's to touch...that's how she could know. Had Vicky even made any friends while she traveled these places. Emily had found out that Vicky had been seen in a couple of taverns.
I remember other things. Being very thirsty. Burping when I downed that glass of water too quickly; the burping had been embarrasing, I have to admit. I would not have done it, except that it had been unexpected. And also, I remember that the place had been practically deserted of patrons by the end of my night there.
So there you have it, folks. My first experience in a tavern. It wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be. But it was interesting to just sit back, observe, and let the world go by for a change. And that's it for now. Don't worry...there will be more coming. I'm sure of it.