Yonov032003.htm

Early inthe day - a Trump call...

The image of Brandon smiles, leaning back in a large chair he tilts his head. "Hey there."

To the image of Brandon, Yosannah sits at a research carol in what appears to be a Library. Scattered before her are a sketching supplies, the bracelet that is usually clapsed about her wrist and a few tarots - some torn. At the sight of Brandon's image she exhales with a smile, "Brandon. Hey."

The image of Brandon raises a glass of Rathorne Silver to the air, "How are you doing, been a while figured I would peek in."

To the image of Brandon, Yosannah nods thankfully, "I'm glad you did." She slumps back into her own chair, "I could use the distraction."

The image of Brandon ohs, "What are you doing there, perhaps I can help?"

To the image of Brandon, Yosannah considers this for a long moment, "Now that you mention it... maybe you could. I could show you if you'd like to come through."

The image of Brandon nods, "Sure, pull me over." He grasps her hand and she pulls him through....

Gideon Club - Library...

When he arrives she gestures at the items before her, "You know... a long while back Damen tried to instruct me on how to do this." She shakes her head, "And Ryker a bit too... I just can't seem to grasp it by myself though..."

Brandon steps in holding a glass of silver wine, he looks around and then lets his eyes fall on you. "Nice outfit." he commends and leans in to place a light kiss on the cheek.

Yosannah smirks slightly at his gesture and shakes her head, "You've been drinking. You sure you want to do this now?" She points at the tarots before her.

Brandon chuckles and grins, "Oh please, wine for me is mearly a distraction. An - accessory to play with as I speak." he looks over the cards, "What exactly are you having a hard time grasping?"

Yosannah smiles at him but quickly turns her attention to her work, "Capturing the image of this bracelet on the trump such that I could summon it to me." She slides a finger over two torn pieces of card and pushes them together. The image of the bracelet is captured there, "I'm just not getting the essance I think. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Brandon glances at the bracelet and nods, "I see, yes." he pauses murmering to himself things un-audible for a time and looks for a place to sit. "I would be happy to help you, if you would like."

Yosannah glances sidelong at him, "Yeah?" She seems pleasantly surprised. Perhaps simply that he'd be willing to spend the time. "Yeah. That would be great."

Brandon takes a seat and pulls up closer pausing for a moment, "I would first like to see you try, and fail like you say you are doing. In order to get a chance to see what I can do to help. Does that makes any sense?"

She considers this for a long moment, resigned, she inclines her chin in an agreeable nod, "All right." She reaches her hand for the blue-black charcol pencil. She rocks the sketching utensil in her fingers as her free hand sets up the bracelet before her along with blank tarot. "I 've tried to do this a couple of different ways. The first was to sketch the thing with the bracelet before me, like I would a scenerio. And then I tried to capture the image in my mind and do it from memory..."

Brandon shakes his head, softly. "That is where I belive you are causing fault." he motions to the object. "With an area, or person it is much simpler to capture the essence of the figure due to two main facts. One, they are living. A person is alive, you know there traits and characteristics. There qwirks, there flaws. A scene is alive in the fact that it moves, smells, makes noise. You can capture what they are doing, how they are being presented with artwork, it is much harder to do so with an object." he pauses, "The second, is much like the first. When you look upon that object as the owner you feel directly connected to it, quite possibly there is a story behind how you got it. You think about all of these things when you see it, however I cannot know these things without you telling me. The trump, tarot what ever you will call it, is how you are to tell me." he takes a sip.

Yosannah nods as this seemingly resonates with her, "That does makes a certain amount of sense, yes. When Alayne taught me many years back, she had me focus on the feelings and characteristics of the people I would draw. I suppose I never thought much about an inanimate object as having a certain feeling."

Brandon nods, "It is not that you don't realise they have characteristics, far from it. I am sure you know all the quirks about this object." he takes out a small American quarter from his pocket and sets it on the table. "Tell me what you see here."

Yosannah offers, matter of factly, "A quarter. Much like any other."

Brandon purses his lips slightly, "Very true, it is a quarter. Much like any other." he points to the bracelet, "And that, to me, is a bracelet. Much like any other, all be it is very stylish and well made. It is still a bracelet."

Brandon offers, "I assume that bracelet is more, to you."

Yosannah nods, "Yes. Of course it is."

Brandon nods, "Then you can quite possibly argue that this is not just /any/ bracelet."

Yosannah offers, "Absolutely. Aside from certain physical characteristics it has significant meaning and purpose. In this case, Pestilence is as much bound to it as it is to her."

Brandon leans back, "How was I supposed to know that?" he grins sipping his wine once.

Yosannah nods, a light smirk playing on her lips, "You wouldn't. Your point is made. I'm to draw these things, not just the thing itself, yes?" She chuckles, "Somehow I think this is apt to be more difficult then it sounds."

Brandon nods softly, "Very much so, objects are quite possibly the hardest thing to draw. But as you know it is quite usefull."

Yosannah nods and explains, "Several months back when the incident with the horsemen first began, I was in pretty dire need of the trinket I wear about my neck. But for the fact that you knew where to find Merlin's charm, Brandon..." She shrugs at this and offers him an appreciative smile. She adds, "Since then, I rather resigned myself to getting my act together and working on developing this skill."

Brandon nods, "It is quite an excelent skill to have, indeed. Along with the ability to memorise the trumps to use at will without looking at them." he leans back, "I would be happy to help you learn all the extra abilities, if you can promise me one thing."

Yosannah furrows a brow and nods, "I can certainly try. What is it?" She sets the pencil down and atop the table.

Brandon smiles, "There will be a time when my daughter is ready to learn the art, should she wish. I don't know where I will be, or if I will be able to teach her. But I want her to have the opertunity, if I train you can I count on you to train her if I cannot."

Yosannah doesn't answer right away, "Your daughter. Brandon... Your daughter?" She is obviously surprised at the mention of a child.

Brandon nods, "My daughter, yes. I have a daughter who is almost ten, whom I have raised."

Yosannah nods thoughtfully at this, "Well. Congrats again. You've sprung quite a bit on me over the last few days, Brandon. Two children in one week. It's a lot to take in."

Brandon chuckles, "Trust me, I know the feeling. I didn't know Dai was related, untill just a few days before I told you."

Yosannah exhales and rests her head against the back of her chair, "Well, I can promise you to help her when she's older." She rolls her head along the length of the chair and regard him with a smile, "So long as I haven't become her arch enemy before then... there can't be any harm in it, right?"

Brandon chuckles, "I have a fealing that you wont become such a thing. And I of all people wont allow her to take on any task that she is not ready for." he sits back farther and smiles, "Thank you, keep in mind this is only if I cannot train her."

Yosannah dips her head, "Well, here is to hoping I am never called to the task, Brandon."

Brandon smiles, "Thank you for helping me in precautions." he dips his head in return. "Well, I should ask if you have any questions on what I said?"

Yosannah shakes her head as she stretches her arms over her head, "No. I'd like to give it another shot over the next couple of days. See what I can come up with. Hopefully, I'll get it right this time."

Brandon nods, "Please do, that was what I was going to say next. I will give you a call in a few days to see how you are doing, and if you run into any snags. I f you get it before then, do call." he smiles.

Trump call...

The image of Jurt runs a hand through his hair, greeting, "Cantalope. What's shakin'?"

To the image of Jurt, Yosannah is slumped against the concrete wall of a building. Hands pressed flat against the structure at her back in an effort to support her weary frame. Her gaze lacks a certain amount of focus as she squints at him, "Jurt? It's late."

The image of Jurt waves a hand, dismissing. "Aww come on, don't skip the prom. Come to the World's End with me. We'll have a beer, feed each other some strawberries, talk shit with the plebs. It'll be great."

To the image of Jurt, Yosannah blinks once or twice in an effort to refocus her gaze. She looks down at her form and mutters, "... I'm not sure I'm dressed..." There is a subtle commotion to her right. Her gaze flicks in that direction and then back to him, "Yeah, sure. Give me your hand."

The image of Jurt takes it in stride, reaching...

Jurt's Byway in Sawall...

Jurt takes a first close look at her. She has almond shaped green eyes that are trimmed in eye-liner and mascara. Auburn hair is smoothed and tied loosely at the back of her head . Her clothes are befitting underground nightlife - metallic crimson top that clings to her form, miniskirt that rests low on her hips and black knee-high leather boots with platform heels.

She arrives carrying with her the faint smell of cigarette smoke and liquor. Not on her breath, but all about her clothes and her person. She lifts her hands to her eyes and rubs a finger just under her lower lids in an effort to tidy up the eyeliner she is wearing tonight.

Jurt murmurs, "Well slap a serpent..."

Yosannah wets her lips and runs her hands over her skirt in an effort to smooth it out and downward. Curious, she asks, "What the hell does that mean?"

Jurt prompts, brows raising a little, "Interrupting a night on the town, was I? Shame on me for not having the decency to watch you for a bit before calling."

Yosannah doesn't respond to his comment, rather, she blinks slowly, deliberately, "Water. And then we can go whever you want." As an afterthought she adds, "Please."

Jurt grunts vaguely, half-admiring, half...something else. In a little longer than a blink, he's gone, returning about thirty seconds later with a pitcher and a glass. "Water, order up."

Yosannah offers him a coy smile, "Thank you." She holds out a hand, "Where are we going again? World's End? I haven't been there in months."

Jurt shrugs. "Yeah well I saw Benedict slumming around. Thought'd be worth poking our noses in, maybe twisting the Unicorn's tale as Dalt likes to say."

Yosannah drinks. Or gulps, to be more exact, and hands the glass back to him when she is done, "Benedict. Friend of yours?"

Jurt winks, taking the glass. "Everyone's a friend of mine, of one sort of another." He tosses the glass and pitcher into the green ooze of his Ways and extends a hand. "Ready? If it blows, we'll jet for better scenery."

Yosannah watches the glass as it is flung across the room. "Fair enough." She doesn't accept the offered hand, however. Rather, she steps into his space and slides a hand to his hip.

Jurt huhs, admitting, "That works too." She is pulled with him in an instant...

World's End Bar...

Jurt blinks in near the center of the room with a woman on his hip.

Roxane is seated at the bar, looking at Fauneva in amazement.

Yosannah gnaws at her lip as she mutters, "Don't forget. You said strawberries, remember."

Jurt gives the room a toothy smile. "Hail one and all denizens of bar room brawl land. Welcome your wayward Prince."

Roxane turns around at the announcement, and chuckles, "Greetings, then, Sir Prince. Forgive me however, if I claim to be seeking no brawls."

Jurt's eyes widen a little. "Well well well." He points an accusing finger in Roxane's direction. "I suspect you're a closet brawler. Or you are and you just don't know it yet. I bet if we tossed you in with someone in your weight class, you'd be as dirty and violent as the best of them."

Dai slips a trump into his pocket and looks around.

Yosannah flicks a sidelong glance in Jurt's direction. She steps away from him and moves toward the bar, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes might even roll slightly though he wouldn't be able to see it.

Fauneva glances curiously at Jurt and his companion.

Dai looks at Jurt, shrugs, and heads barwards himself.

Yosannah slides up to the bar and gestures for the bartender, "Two beers." She holds up two fingers in the event that there was any doubt as to her order.

Roxane raises her brows, and offers Jurt an innocent smile, "Or perhaps I would be crushed, like the innocent and delicate flower that I am."

Jurt exhales through pursed lips, managing not to whistle, soon following in Yosannah's wake. He tells the woman, "Watermelon, even - whatever you want."

Fauneva slips down from her stool, favoring Roxane with a smile. "You and your lord are welcome at d'Alesse anytime, my lady. I look forward to company."

Dai smiles. "Hello Roxane, Duchess Fauneva, Yosannah. How are you ladies this evening?" He glances at Jurt. "Hello Jurt. Almost didn't recognize you without the straight jacket. That was a very......interesting costume."

Jurt informs Roxane, "Show me an innocent and delicate flower, and I'll show you a woman who will curse like a sailor and break a man's hand while pushing out three to twenty pounds of baby through a relatively narrow canal." He nods to himself, reaching for the beer. Murmurs thanks to Yosannah, absently.

Yosannah scuffs her heel into the floor as she waits for her order. She regards Jurt over her shoulder as he takes the first beer for himself.

Jurt oohs, glancing at Yosannah. To Dai he lifts his chin, mostly casual. "Thanks man - inspired choice."

Fauneva flushes furiously at Jurt's words and makes for the corner, before pointed virgin ears are offended anymore,

Yosannah notes Dai with a thoughtful smile, "Dai, hey. Little late for you, isn't it?"

Roxane smiles at Dai, "Good day." She says to Jurt, "I have always been interested, in what would happen, when one skilled in the arts of shifting, birth. It might not be such a narrow canal, then"

Dai blinks. "Late for me? I'm always hanging around annoying people." He gestures to Roxane. "Bored Roxane here to tears last night."

Riva appears suddenly.

Jurt admits to Roxane, "Shifting often takes the challenge out of things, alas."

Roxane considers, "But it also brings new challenges to explore, does it not?"

Jurt amends, "But Chaosian babies commonly come out with pointy bits or even shift themselves bigger if they're naturally gifted. So like with most of nature, things even themselves out."

Yosannah collects a beer for herself from the bartender. She turns her back to the bar, resting an elbow there casually. Her gaze lingers on Jurt as she comments to Dai, "Bored her to tears? Somehow I doubt that."

Roxane turns, and smiles, "Good day, Riva."

Jurt mimics Yosannah in posture, leaning back. Crossing an ankle. Perking up even further at the mention of Riva's name, he remarks, "Like a moth to the flame."

Dai shrugs. "It's an innate talent I have. Takes some practice to turn it into an artform though. And I do try to be as artistic as possible." He winks at Yo and then turns when he hears Roxane greet Riva. "Hey Riva," he says with a smile.

Riva slips her trump into her jacket and looks around. There are a few books tucked under her arm, all bounce in white, white lace, white leather and gold trim, etc. She looks around and smiles suddenly when she sees Dai. "Heya." She nods absently to Dai, Roxane, and Jurt. "Dai, Yo, Roxane, Numbnuts."

Yosannah raises a brow at Riva's greeting. She mouths the word 'Numbnuts' and slides her gaze back to Jurt without adjusting her posture beside him.

Jurt asks Riva, "When did you learn to read?"

Nash fades into view, a shadowy figure of silver glimmers and sparkles before he snaps into full presence.

Roxane chuckles, and says to Riva, "You have settled on one, then?"

Dai hides his smile with his hand.

Nash appears near the board, looking around as he shoves his card back under his shirt.

Roxane says simply, "My name. You seemed unsure as to how to address me."

Jurt explains to Riva, "I think she means, actually, you have settled on one functioning brain cell. Given up on higher aspirations."

Nash eyes the company with a certain amount of caution, but heads towards the bar regardless, mumbling a general, "Turnings."

Jurt eyes the books with visible curiosity, murmuring something to himself about fiber content and flammability.

Dai arches an eyebrow at Yo and then turns to wave to Nash. "Good turnings Nash."

Yosannah lifts the bottle to her lips, shakes her head, lowers her gaze to the ground and smiles before a sip is taken.

Roxane continues to Jurt, "I will pass, however, on the option of a brawl. I should hate to sully my attire, it was a gift, and my favorite."

Nash sits down at the bar.

Jurt gives Roxane a closer once over.

Riva rolls her eyes and mutters to Jurt, "Yeah, and you're a genius. You jumped in front of a table to shield someone you hate. That lacks common intelligence even cockroaches have."

Jurt snorts, not even looking at Riva, "Don't attempt to understand the motives of your betters, Riva. They're beyond your ken."

Nash raps the bar with a set of knuckles, ordering up a beer and turning slightly to observe Roxane himself, then Jurt.

Jurt overall seems quite cheery, however.

Dai hops onto a bar stool and looks back and forth between Jurt and Riva.

Riva says "My betters? I guess I wouldn't question my betters, but since you're not amoung them I'm on safe ground."

Dai whispers "This is a very interesting display of how to exchange insults, don't you agree?"

Jurt remarks to Roxane, "Pretty not bad." Then turns a slightly tight jawed squint in Riva's direction.

Nash takes up his beer, swigs and says, "What is this, retarded conversation night? I'd rather see lead flying."

Yosannah chuckles. Whether this is in response to Jurt's comment or something muttered by Dai is probably not obvious. She leans into Dai, however, and whispers in close.

Jurt tells Riva, "You have a pretty loose definition of 'safe', woman."

Yosannah whispers, "Perhaps. But in the end, you'll never catch me trading insults with Jurt."

Jurt says to Nash, "Good things come to those who wait."

Dai whispers "Words to live by. I wonder how long they can keep it up before they go for each other's throats."

Roxane turns her regard to Nash, and offers him a smile, "My apologies for boring you, I am but a delicate flower and know no better."

Riva opens the top book, showing a book of white, peach, and creme clothes of all kind, likely for wedding dressed. She pauses to look at Jurt, "Mmm...Suppose I do."

Riva nods absently to Nash.

Jurt's gaze is drawn to the book, a few long pulls of his beer forced down. Quick glance at Yosannah before he comments in general, "A picture book - that explains it."

Dai grins at Nash. "Well why don't you pick a new topic of conversation Nash?" He glances between Jurt and Riva nervously though.

Riva rolls her eyes, "you're loosing your edge, Jurt."

Nash wrinkles his nose as Roxane's comment and says in response to Dai, "I doubt anyone wants to talk about shifting, pain or moribund artworks either."

Jurt points out, "I think you'd have to explain moribund to most, first."

Roxane's gaze sharpens upon Nash, for a moment at his comment, "Have we met before?"

Nash twitches half a smile at Jurt, then looks back to Roxane, looking her over again before saying, "Maybe once or twice. I don't really remember, I'm not known for hanging with delicate flowers, on the whole."

Roxane ahs, "For a moment, I thought we had. You have described my conversation succinctly."

Jurt peers a moment at Riva's book, casually waving a hand backwards through the air about five seconds later. He invokes a rush of sorcerous power in Riva's direction.

Dai's eyes shift colour to black for some reason.

Yosannah takes an abrupt step away from the bar, instinctively.

The top of the book Riva has open catches fire, black smoke rising.

Riva leans back abruptly with a startled frown as flames rise from her book, snatching her hands back.

Roxane turns to consider the book, sliding from her stool, following Yosannah.

Jurt doesn't so much as twitch, even looking a hint bored. "Better than spontaneous /human/ combustion, at least."

Nash swigs his beer, seeming unpreturbed by the flaming book as he says to Roxane, "You don't look the sort." and to Jurt, "Honestly, you're like the school bully, are you bored?"

Riva closes the book carefully from the bottom and picks it up carefully. Leaning back on her stool she sends the book in a frisby toss at Jurt.

Roxane murmers, "Appearances can be decieving, at times, I've been told."

Dai's eyes begins to glow with unlight and his right hand reaches down to his boot.

Jurt is paying attention currently, at least in Riva's direction of the part. Without spilling his beer, he lifts a forearm, replying, "I prefer to think of it as a witty non-verbal response." The book strikes his forearm mostly harmlessly, falling to the floor and merely leaving a finger singed hairs behind.

Nash says "Witty? Serpent that's the sort of thing that passes for 'wit' in De'Alund. You'll be dropping your pants and farting in people's faces next."

Riva leans back forward noting, "It he really wanted to bully, he could. He just likes being a pain. Nearly got me pummeled by Benedict."

Yosannah steps foward now and interposes herself between Jurt and Riva, "Well good. See, there. Harmless banter."

Jurt turns his tighter focus on Nash, then, casual everywhere but the eyes. "What're you? Some social judge?"

Dai's hand halts with a dagger drawn from his boot, hidden from Jurt's view by his leg. He regards everyone to see where this leads, not attempting action yet.

Jurt's elbows are back on the counter. The beer hangs from his left hand, hooked by merely an index finger through the handle.

Roxane stands quietly, although she retrieves her milkshake. She leans against an errant chair, sipping and observing. Her eyes flick over everyone in turn, intent.

Riva sips her beer, not seeming worried. She arches an eyebrow at Yosannah.

Nash swigs, his own gaze lingering more on Jurt's hands than anything else, "I just call 'em as I see 'em. You need something ... I wonder what it is. Perhaps just a little rough-housing, it's good for the soul."

Dai turns his head to Nash as he speaks and then turns it back to look at Jurt, waiting for a response.

Riva's glances is not lost on Yosannah though she gestures at the bartender for another round of drinks for she and Jurt.

Riva says "Yeah. Get some of that edge back. Old age is making you rusty, Jurt."

Yosannah closes her eyes as Riva's insult flies. With that she lifts her hands, palms outward as if in consession. She steps back away from the bar, clearing a path between Jurt and Riva.

Roxane murmers, "Prince of Brawls, indeed." She seems fascinated, her observance continuing.

Jurt considers Nash, quiet ... green gaze swiveling around then, slowly passing over Dai's eyes ... Roxane's, skimming Yosannah's and landing on Riva. Jaw working once, a pensive swallow. When he looks back to Nash, there is a faint shift in this posture, and ... his lips pull into a broad smile. "Well, he's an opinionated fella, but I have to admit ... I like most of his opinions. And that ain't too bad a percentage." He sniffs, flicking the quickest of statements of Riva, "Last one, Riva."

Jurt looks then to Yosannah, checking her expression.

Yosannah raises a hand to her head and scratches at her temple. The gaze that meets Jurt's is neither concerned nor overly troubled by the dialogue. Her expression is clearly supportive. In fact, she waves a hand from him to Riva, inviting action it would seem.

Nash smiles faintly, "I vote for a furniture fight. No fatalities, good exercise ..."

Riva looks at Jurt, eyebrows lifting. "You seem less than your chipper self this evening, man. Maybe I'll let you work out some before heckling you anymore."

Dai tilts his head as he catches Yosannah's look and then looks back at Jurt curious to see how he responds to Riva's comment.

Jurt shrugs, tone a little overly light. "Hey, I'm straight." He knocks back the rest of his beer, placing it behind him just in time to collect the new round Yosannah ordered.

Roxane's head tilts, just slightly.

Yosannah suggests, "Riva, let's just enjoy our drinks. Okay." She tugs at her skirt, adjusting it about her form, "Can we just do that."

Roxane, sensing perhaps a lull in conversation, says to Jurt, "Does your interest in my request when last we spoke, remain?"

Nash shrugs, murmuring, "Barfight therapy ain't for everyone, I guess."

Riva slips off her stool and collects the rest of her books. She rolls her eyes at Yosannah, Then nods to the rest. Dai is favored with a smile. She pulls out a card and focuses on it.

Jurt licks his teeth, then turns his friendly enough squint on Roxane. "Uh, request? Afraid you'll have to jog the old memory."

Roxane lifts a hand and smiles to Riva, "Enjoy your day."

Jurt glances at Riva, but does nothing obvious.

Nash says, "Your boss is a tool."

Riva says "You too, Roxane."

Dai turns to Riva and nods. "Serpent guard." He nonchalantly and quietly slips his knife back into his boot.

Roxane steps closer to Jurt, carrying her milkshake, and sipping, She mutters to Jurt, "I wished to sculpt..." She smiles.

Yosannah clasps her hands together and rests them against her chin for a moment. She finally reaches for her freshly tapped beer and regards Roxane.

Santiago appears with a grin and a flourish of trump "Be basking in my sexiness!"

Nash swigs his beer, looking faintly bored.

Jurt pays Dai's actions only minimal attention. Same for the man himself, really. Clearing his throat and sneaking a glance at Yosannah, he ahs a little belatedly at Roxane, nodding. "Right, that, sure. Not a problem. We'll have to see about that in the near future."

Jurt looks to Santiago, back to the bar, posture something less than basking. A little grunt. "Mine are better."

Yosannah turns her attention to the flare that is Santiago. "Well, looky looky. There he is, everyone. We can all exhale now."

Jurt mentions aside to Yosannah, "You'll appreciate the fact we didn't arrive on a table."

Roxane smiles, and says again to Jurt, "Thank you."

Santiago says "I am being to the sexiness what Benedict is being to the blade, yeah? All the practice and the natural talent." he notes as he heads barwards "Is making me like the god of the sexy."

Yosannah blinks at Jurt's comment, distracted, and looks down at her skirt. As if in response, she tugs at it in an effort to pull it a little lower about her thighs.

Roxane turns, to consider Santiago for a moment.

Santiago has partially disconnected.

Dai orders a bottle of Hoegaarden. The bartender pushes it across the bar and it slides to a stop in front of him.

Jurt comments, "I'll place it somewhere more closely to Vialle with a blade, myself, but that's just one informed opinion."

Nash hmm's, hopping off his stool and depositing his mostly empty beer bottle on the bar.

Yosannah is about to sip from her beer bottle when Jurt comments. She nudges him and shakes her head.

Santiago slips fluidly onto a stool "Eh. You are just being jealous of my finely turned buttocks, yeah?"

Dai waves to Nash. "Serpent guard, Nash."

Santiago says "Being compared to your wrinkly old man behind."

Yosannah looks over her shoulder and gives Nash a light nod.

Nash lifts a hand in a vague parting, heading for and out the door.

Jurt balks. "Are you fucking kidding me." Yosannah's elbow lost on him, he goes for his belt buckle, undoing it as he insists, "I do /not/ have a wrinkly old man ass, do I, Yosannah."

Yosannah begins to ask of Roxane, "Rox, you ever been to Earth..." but she freezes, her jaw clenches, lowers and she feigns shock at Jurt's question, "I don't know how the hell I would know that."

Dai looks at Yosannah his mouth twitching. He doesn't say anything, just sips his beer.

Santiago acquires a grappa bottle, from which he takes a slug "Because you have been seeing them before?"

Roxane shakes her head to Yosannah's question, "I am afraid, I have never been there. You are familiar with the place? Perhaps I might request a tour?"

Yosannah's mouth hangs open as she looks to Roxane, obviously unable to respond to her question as evidence by the lingering, bewildered expression on her face.

Jurt steps away from the bar, yanking down just the rear of his pants and posturing his posterior in Santiago's direction. "Now, take it back. I insist."

Roxane turns to consider Jurt as he bares himself. Then she turns back to Yosannah with a smile, waiting for the answer to her request.

Santiago says "Eh. I see a wrinkle."

Yosannah mutters, "That's just his crack.." She pauses before looking to Roxane, "Did I just say that?"

Roxane nods to Yosannah, "You did. But I will pretend not to have heard it, if you would prefer."

Yosannah nods, appreciatively, at Roxane, "Thanks. And yes. We'll go sometime." With that she attempts to redirect her attention.

Dai sips his beer and then laughs at Yosannah's comment. He sits there chuckling and drinking his beer.

Jurt looks over his shoulder, trying to see via the mirror. "Fuck you man it is not." Yanking his pants back up, he works the buckling, stating, "Hurling random insults is all well and good, but lets remain at least moderately truthful."

Yosannah interjects, "So neither of your asses is any better then the others. Wah lah."

Santiago says "We haven't been seeing mine, yet, yeah?"

Dai sighs. "Do we have to?"

Yosannah raises a hand in Santiago's direction, "We'll take your word on it."

Jurt looks at Yosannah, harboring other thoughts. "We will?"

Yosannah reminds Jurt, "Checking out other men's asses... Not your thing."

Jurt sighs. "Fine, fine."

Yosannah exhales a sigh of relief. She gulps at what remains of her beer and then nudges Jurt, "Hey now, don't get comfortable, you gotta take me home."

Jurt frowns at his beer for a few seconds, lingering, then looks over at Yosannah, knotted brows rising. "Already, huh?"

Santiago takes a healthy swig of the potent liquor "So. What has been going on before I be coming in?"

Dai drains his beer and hops off the stool.

Roxane smiles at Yosannah, "I shall look forward to the tour."

Yosannah offers to Santiago, "You're looking at it." To Jurt she shrugs, "I can get myself home if you wanna stay. But you did bring me here."

Jurt explains to Santiago, "All the good conversation, apparently." He rises, stretching his back a little. "Naw. The party is crashing anyway."

Dai nods to Roxane. "Take care Roxane. I think I've had enough excitement for night." He smiles at Yosannah. "Goodnight Yo." His hand reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a trump.

Yosannah still leans against the bar. She smiles at those that remain, "Yeah, night all." To Jurt she inquires, "You ready big daddy."

Roxane smiles to Dai, "Enjoy yours as well." She looks around, "A mass exodus, it seems." She looks to Yosannah, smiles, "A moment, if you would?"

Yosannah shrugs and nods at the woman, "Yeah, what's up?"

Santiago sighs "I will just have to be content with my liquor, yeah?"

Jurt considers Dai, fingers rubbing slightly on his right hand, bit of mischief in his eyes. "I'm not the only straight one. No love for old Jurt from boring boy, here."

Santiago produces a set of cards "And this set of playing cards with pictures of the naked ladies on them."

Yosannah flicks a smirk in Jurt's direction as she inclines her head to Roxane.

You sense Roxane slides from her stool and steps closer to Yosannah, and grins, her eyes sparkling, "So that you might contact me, when you have a moment for the offered trip."

Yosannah nods at the woman, waiting. Eventually Roxane hands her a trump.

Dai smiles blandly at Jurt, his eyes still glowing unlight, as he begins to concentrate on the trump.

Yosannah smiles at the woman and offers, "I'll be in touch then. Thank you."

Jurt just gives Dai a hearty thumbs up, then turns his attention to Yosannah, stepping to her side and wrapping an arm around the woman's back.

Roxane grins at Yosannah, then smiles to Jurt, "Enjoy your evenings."

Yosannah says "Ooo, hey." She stumbles slightly as she is grabbed up by Jurt, "I guess we're leaving."

Jurt salutes Roxane with his free hand. "Adios, senorita." With so much as a baby-step forward, he and Yosannah...

Jurt's Byway - Sawall...

Jurt puts a finger to his chin. "Whoops. Did you say your home, or mine."

Yosannah smiles with a shrug, "Does it matter." Rhetorical question. "Oh, hey. Thanks for that. Back there." She thumbs over her shoulder.

Jurt ponders, "You know, I'm pretty sure nobody has ever thanked me for a trip to the World's /End/, before. I tend to expect cursing, myself."

Yosannah shakes her head, "Well, yeah. That. But I mean for not lay'n into Riva." She nods, "I figured you sensed that I'm rather... you know. Squimish about such things." Is she serious?

Jurt bites a lip. "Uh, yeah, of course. I sensed that. And let me tell you, I was /this/ close." He pinches the arm, sliding around to stand before you, hand lingering on your hip. "I mean she just refuses to learn there's a limit. No matter how many times I put the smack on her."

Yosannah nods, repeatedly as he explains, "Oh, I knew you were." More nodding, "But it was really thoughtful of you nevertheless." His closeness is apparently welcomed by her as she makes no gesture to move away. She does allow her gaze to wander around the room, however.

"No sweat." Jurt thumbs over his shoulder now too, at the upper chamber. "So were you tired, or..."

Yosannah's gaze follows the gesture of his thumb. She looks over his shoulder to the upper chamber. After a moment's consideration, and seemingly satisfied with the arrangements she nods, "Or." Sliding a hand into his she pulls him along after her.

Jurt remarks, "My leading lady." Along the way, he reaches, drawing a canteen out of a small shimmer of color. Hefting it, he explains, "Water. For the long haul."