Log:Poker and Palmistry

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Poker and Palmistry

Joel, Freya, Lucky, Gisa, Oliver, Dielle, Alonso, Logan, Dross, Max

May 07, 2017



Club Carnivale - FB04

It's afternoon at Carnivale on a Sunday which is, a nice break given the hectic past two busy nights with all the shows and people. Stella's behind the bar which means that Joel's comfortably settled into one of the private booths that has visibility to the Midway but is recessed enough for some privacy and a little bit of shielding from the noise of the music. He's settled there with Freya, talking to her about the previous night's performances, a beer in one hand.

Today seems to be her day off, she's not dressed for a performance, and she's not half-way dressed for one, either. She's dressed casually in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt that says RESIST on the front of it, her long hair braided, and a half finished beer in front of her. Discussions about performances are an animated thing, and she's talking with gestures to add to it.

Lucky heads in through the front door, spotting Joel and his braided companion at the booth in the corner after some exploration. He's dressed in his typical style, mostly black functional clothes in a comfortable style, those weird gloves and knit cap still on. Heading over to the booth, he asks, "Private party, or you mind another?"

Joel is in a pair of comfortable jeans, some black round-toed shoes, and a grey sweater, looking about as drab and unremarkable as ever. He glances up when Lucky approaches and waves his hand a little bit, motioning the man on in to join them at the booth. "Have you two met yet? Lucky, Freya.. Freya, Lucky," he does the introductions even if they have been introduced. There have been a lot of people coming and going lately. "Drink?" he asks of Lucky.

Freya goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

"Hello, Lucky." Freya replies when introduced, not showing any sign that she's had the introduction before, so it's a good bet they haven't met. Or she doesn't remember. "We were just talking shop...nothing that can't be left for a later time."

Not needing much more by way of invitation, Lucky slides into the booth with the others, setting his hands on the table. "Shop talk? At this hour?" He shakes his head. "What will the patrons think?" Though he does offer a hand over to Freya, along with a gentle smile. "Nice to meet you," he tells her. "Lucky Donovan." And then, over to Joel, "What can I get for under twenty bucks and still get a buzz on? Last night's game got cancelled. Dealer's kid had projectile something or other. Or so I hear."

"No hour inappropriate for shop talk," Joel says with a bit of a shrug of his shoulders. Then he says with a little smirk, "Pretty sure that I can hook you up for less than twenty. Keep Freya company, find something other than work to talk about. I'll be back." He pulls himself up and out of the booth then and makes his way over to the bar to get refresher drinks for all around.

"At this hour." Freya agrees with a laugh, taking a sip off her beer before she leans forward, resting on the edge of the table, "So what should we talk about other than work related things? What sort of game?"

Lucky gives Joel a bright grin. "My hero!" he calls after the man as he heads off to the bar, looking for whatever concoction joel has back there. And then, over to Freya, he answers, "Poker. There's a regular game goes on, some of the locals. They tend to spend a good deal of money. Tend to lose some of it, too." Pulling out a handful of ones, he sorts them out quickly. The first time, it seems that it's all just ones, but he frowns and counts again. This time, there are few fives that flash in there too, though the total looks wrong. Finally he sighs, crumpling up the entire wad of cash in his fist and thumping it on the table. When he opens his hand, a nice, clean twenty is there, neatly folded. "There we go."

Joel is over at the bar for not long at all. When he returns it is with three glasses, each one with a dark liquid in it that has a reddish tint and fizzes just a little bit. The flavor is interesting, something vaguely fruity, with a hint of something spicy, and a powerful kick. He places the three glasses down on the small table and then settles back into his seat. "You ever want to run a game here, you're welcome to use the backstage area. There are rooms back there." He takes up his drink and lifts it, taking a sip and then setting it back down on the table.

"A magician as well?" Freya wonders, her brow flicking upwards when Lucky finally makes a twenty appear on the table. She reaches into a pocket, pulling out a twenty of her own, holding it out towards Lucky with a grin, "Can you turn this into a hundred? I could use a new pair of shoes." The new drink is pulled closer, and without even asking what is in it, she picks it up and starts to sip at it.

Lucky doesn't really ask what the fizzy fruity sangria looking stuff is either. He's perfectly content with drinking it. "Nah. Not professionally or anything. My dad used to be good at this kind of stuff. Hung around a lot of people that could do it. Picked it up along the way. Makes for some cool party tricks. I think I even got a few phone numbers. Nothing professional though." Though he looks at the hundred, grinning. "I can turn it into a hundred if you give me until tomorrow." The details of 'how' are left unspoken, naturally. And then, back to Joel, a raised eyebrow. "Really? That..." He glances toward the back room, thinking. "I mean, I can do that. I'll even cut you in a percentage of the takings. Can't guarantee no fights'll break out, but I can guarantee that if they do, I'll crack some heads before they crack some furniture."

"The space is there. I know some folks who wouldn't mind getting in on a regular game if there was one going," Joel says as he takes another sip of his drink. He's not working. It doesn't matter if he gets a buzz going today. He then glances over toward Freya and grins, looking back to Lucky. "You should practice. You cold probably do it professionally as well easy enough." He then glances over toward Freya and says "Always good to have more than one skill. Freya is an aerialist, but she also tells fortunes."

Freya sets the twenty down, sliding it across towards Lucky, "By tomorrow." She agrees, then nods, leaning back in her seat, "I do, and sometimes the fortunes are even about tall, dark strangers." She gives her brows a very slight waggle before she takes another sip off her drink, "Do fights happen often at these games?"

"Well, yeah," Lucky tells her. "People go in with big heads, and then when their luck turns sour, they start to panic. Panic makes people do stupid shit. They get all animalistic. The more money involved, the greater the risk that someone's gonna have themselves a little freakout. And if you're running any kind of serious game, there's always decent money involved. The after-work stuff between buddies? Not so much." And then, over to Joel, he shakes his head. "Nah, man. I'm more of a 'back of the house' kind of guy. Besides, if people knew that their poker dealer even knew half the shit I did, you'd have a full-scale riot on your hands. Best to stick to shuffling cards, the legit way." And then, back to Freya, "Fortunes, huh?" He seems amused by that. "I'm not even sure I wanna know what the future has in store for me."

"Yeah, makes sense," Joel says. "People who lose a lot of money don't take it lightly, I'd imagine. But then, you gamble, you take your chances. Anyone who walks into a game like that not expecting to lose has some urnealistic expectations. There's a reason I don't gamble." He lifts his drink. "I deal in booze. Money in, booze out. Predictable." He then looks over toward Freya and says, "You should tell our fortunes. My guess is that mine involves a wrench, some grease, and a couple of the midway games."

"Usually those types of people are addicts, or just crazy." Freya suggests with a grin, then she arches her brows before she takes a large swallow of her drink before setting it down, pushing it to the side, "I certainly could tell your fortunes, if you both wanted." She reaches a hand out, turning it palm up, waiting for one of them to be brave enough to give her a hand.

Lucky laughs. "What? You think people risking large sums of money on statistically improbale winnings are -sound-?" He shakes his head. "There's always a certain amount of crazy to these things." Though as Freya asks for hands, he holds up his gloved hands, asking, "Which one do you want?" Because presumably he has to take the glove off of one. And then, back to Joel, "Predictable isn't -exciting- though. Some people get off on the rush." Some people. Like him.

"Some like knife throwers, or high wire acts," Joel says. Those are perhaps his form of adrenaline rush, possibly. He watches as Lucky offers up gloved hands in Freya's direction and glances over to her to see which one she asks for. Even though he was the one who brought it up, he offers up neither hand for the time being. Instead, he continues to drink his drink, letting his attention shift from one to the other as they talk.

"Either hand." Freya replies with a shrug of her shoulders, fingers wiggling just a bit before she glances towards Joel, laughing, "Look at me...I certainly can't say that I dislike a rush. So...I get it."

Lucky removes the pristine-looking glove from his right hand, setting it aside for the moment. It even flattens back out as if it had just come out of a box, smelling of new leather. Offering the woman his hand, with its immaculate skin and slightly too-long, spidery fingers and almost childlike lack of imperfections in the skin, he asks, "So, what do you see?" When Joel talks about high-wires and such, Lucky just chuckles. "Some people juggle geese, yeah. But I get what you mean. The thrill is different for everyone, but the feeling tends to be the same. That addictive rush."

Joel watches as Lucky offers up his hand to Freya to read, expression unreadable. There's a slight nod of his head at the mention of goose-juggling, lips twisting just a little as he says, "Asshole birds." To Freya he says, "I don't think anyone would ever question your enjoyment of a good rush." He then finishes off the remainder of his drink, pushing the glass toward the center of the table, waiting to hear what Lucky's fortune might be, according to Freya.

There's silence from Freya as she studies his hand, examining it like she might just see the secrets of the universe in it. "You will have a great windfall, soon, you will also find yourself in the company of an attractive stranger." She then releases his hand, leaning back, "No, no one could ever question that."

Lucky grins at that. "Vague, yet appealing. I can see why you're so popular," he tells her. "And that windfall kind of benefits you, if I remember right. So you'd better hope it comes true!" Though he does give a more serious nod to Joel. "Geese -are- assholes, dude. Like, fuck those little bastards. I've been bitten and pecked at more times than I can count." Thouh he claps the man on the shoulder, saying, "You're up, homeboy. Let's see what the future has in store for you."

The fortune that Lucky receives is met with a slight twist at the corner of Joel's lips but little more than that. "They are purposeful dicks. Those motherfuckers can fly, and yet they walk their asses across the road." But then he's clapped on the shoulder, and he offers up his hand, palm up to Freya, meeting her eyes and saying, "Hit me." It's not the first time that he's had her tell his fortune. It seems to entertain him to do so every so often.

"I'm popular for an entirely different reason." Freya replies with a wink for Lucky, then she turns her attention towards Joel, taking his hand when he offers up his hand. She accepts it, turning her attention to the palm of his hand, giving it the same long consideration as Lucky's hand. "You are going to enjoy several more drinks, and get laid tonight. Also an act is going to get suddenly canceled because the star is running off to get married."

Lucky looks at Joel, sighing. "See? Mine doesn't involve getting laid. It just involves getting rich, apparently. I think I like your better. Trade?" Though he does turn back to Freya, looking like something just dawn on him. "Wait, wait. Bearded Betty is getting married? Really? She didn't even tell me she was seeing anyone! Good for her!"

Joel watches Freya as she reads his fortune and that smirk remains on his lips. He shakes his head and says, "Now you're just fucking with me. Though if you're planning on running off and eloping, thanks for the few hours notice to get you a present." He withdraws his hand then and glances over at Lucky, "Sure, I'll take the windfall. You can get laid. Though Freya might come after you if you don't show up with her shoe money. I've heard people get kneecapped for that." Then he looks over at Lucky and says, "I thought Betty was already married. You knwo something I don't?"

"Me?" Freya laughs at that, shaking her head, "I'd have to be dating someone first, I have a two date minimum before I elope." She lifts a hand in assurance before she reaches for her drink once more, "Betty is already married, and has two children...it's Liz that is running off, and the reason she's not telling is because she doesn't want her dad to find out and stop her." She lifts her glass in a bit of a toast to them each, "Laid, and windfalls, in everyone's future."

"Is Betty married?" Lucky asks, frowning. "Man. I hope her husband doesn't find out then," he says with a sigh. "Never mix Soco with sweet and sour. It'll make you do crazy things." And on that note, he slams back whatever's left of the fruity fizzy whatever it is, wincing a bit. "This is nice. Seems familiar."

Joel smirks over at Lucky and shakes his head just a little bit, "You want another?" He nods toward the drink and includes Freya in the invitation. "I can go set us up with a couple more if everyone wants another round." He then gets u once more to go back over to the bar and get another round for the table. He then says to Freya, "Well then I'll get something for Liz, a little something to help her and her guy. And nobody speaks another word of it." Because that shit's between Liz and her Dad, not him.

"Wait," Lucky asks. "Is Liz the blonde one who does the tumble-juggling, or the brunette fire dancer one?" He's not accustomed to the names of the people in the act, yet, it would seem. And he happily slides his glass over to Joel, batting his eyes at the man. "Well, if you're offering, I'm not gonna turn it down!" Though he does give a nod to the man in acceptance of the secrecy of Liz's betrothal. Whichever one Liz is. "Our girl here says we're all in for a windfall, so don't be stingy on the presents either! Good karma and all that."

"Mmmhmm." Freya replies, both to Lucky and to Joel, finishing her drink off before she sets it down on the table, pushing it to the side. "Liz is the juggling one, her father and two brothers are also in the act, or were."

"That one," Joel nods in agreement with Freya when she tells Lucky who Liz is. Then he heads back over toward the bar with the empties to go get another round of that fae-touched booze that he reserves for his special guests. He's gone for a few while he takes care of that, leaving Freya and Lucky to entertain themselves.

"Right, okay," Lucky says, wrinkling his brown and trying to put names to the others. "Then, wait, what's the fire-dancer's name? It was something like Liz, right? Lindsey or something?" He could be right. He could be way off. There's really no telling here. He won pretty big the last few days, and most of it has passed right back over Joel's bar.

Lucky leaves The Red Booth. (5)

Lucky goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

"Fire-dancer? Mira." Freya replies, flicking her braid over her shoulder as she glances towards the bar, and what Joel is putting together before turning back towards Lucky. "Mira isn't married, that I'm aware of, so if you're having a fun time with her, you should be fine."

Joel is over at the bar for a bit longer, working on acquiring the drinks while the two of them talk about the other staff and whether or not flings are being had. Oh the days of our lives. Eventually though, he comes back with a new round of drinks, though this time they are purple and the flavor has less of a spice sing and something almsot floral to it, but not so much so to overpower the drink.

"Me? Fuck no," Lucky tells her, shaking his head. "Have you seen that chick throw a knife? She's got assassin-level kills, and I've seen that girl humming -way- too much Taylor Swift. She's strictly off-limits until I get blackout drunk and forget all that. So if you ever find me in pieces in the river one day, just know that it was likely her." Though as Joel returns with the drinks, Lucky eyes the purple, curiously. "That... smells amazing," he tells him. "Like, really, really good. Do you make this stuff?" He picks up the glass, holding it up to the light. "What's in it?" Not that he cares. He's already diving into it. Delicious glamour-touched fermented beverage for the nigh-addict, yes please.

"I doubt that." Freya replies with a shake of her head, reaching for the new glass, sniffing it a moment before she takes a sip off it. "Lavender?" She wonders, going off the color probably more than anything else. She sets it down, legs crossing as she shifts forward to rest her elbows on the edge of the table, resting her chin on her hand, "Joel, Lucky here says that he can't sleep with a girl if she sings too much Taylor Swift."

Joel slides back into his seat and lifts his glass. He nods to Lucky when asked if he makes them and says, "I'm a Brewer. These, particular beverages, I make personally. As for what's in them? Trade secret. Just enjoy. They'll get you good and buzzed." He almost smiles, just a little flicker, and then glances over toward Freya nad touches a finger to his lips when she says Lavendar. It's probably there is some Lavendar in there, among other things. "I kind of like that Blank Space song."

"I mean, seriously," Lucky says. "The name of her next album should be 'Maybe the Problem Is Me'. It's just a big ball of crazy. Catchy-crazy, but still crazy." He sips at the purple stuff, eyes closing as that nice little rush passes over him. "Don't judge me. Everyone has their thing. Have you never seen Basic Instinct?"

"That one is a good one. I also like um..." Freya pauses, trying to think of the name, "That Brush It Off song...." She then shakes her head at Lucky, "But no, I haven't. I'll date anyone."

"I've seen Basic Instinct," Joel says, and glances over toward Lucky then he shakes his head and says, "I don't judge. We've all got our rules." He glances over at Freya, "Except Freya who will date anyone." He lifts his glass then and says, "I don't really date."

"I have too much to do to date," Lucky says. "Besides, there's all those -questions-. 'Who are all these strange people? Why does the milk keep disappearing? Who keeps re-organizing my shoes?' Tends to be more of a hassle than it's worth," he agrees. Though he does smile to Freya. "Anyone, huh? Well, at least you're versatile."

"I think that the word you are looking for is desperation, not versatility." Freya replies with a laugh, "The last date I went on was four months ago...so, yes. I'll date anyone." She shakes her head at both of them, giving them this amused look, "Neither one of you are too busy to date, trust me."

"I didn't say I was too busy," Joel says with a rise and fall of his shoulders. "I just don't." And that's true enough. Freya's never witnessed him go on a date with anyone the entire time she's been at Carnivale. So he's not exaggerating, at least not insofar as her experience would confirm. But then, he is his most personable when he's behind the bar, and thus, at work.

"Hey, desperation can lead us into the most unlikely of scenarios," Lucky tells her in turn. "And those can be some of the most amazing adventures one will ever have. You go and do your thing. No judgments here." Though back over to Joel, Lucky can't help but look the man over. "So, uh. Everything, like ... -works-, right?" Because the idea of -not- getting laid is a foreign concept to him, apparently. "We've got stuff for that now."

"You didn't say it, but I know you were thinking it." Freya doesn't read minds, Joel would know that, but that doesn't stop her from acting like a know-it-all. She takes another sip from her drink, glancing at Lucky at his question, a hand lifting to smother a laugh before she coughs, clearing her throat, "Alright. Since I'm desperate, you just don't, and you are too busy. I propose we make this a date, and we can all say that we've recently had a fabulous date."

"Yes," Joel says to Lucky, meeting that look, and replying evenly, "It is all there and and perfectly functional. And I don't need any stuff to make it work." He lifts his glass and takes another sip before he glances back over toward Freya, lofting an eyebrow, "Is there something wrong with not having had a recent date? Fabulous or otherwise?" Though he doesn't seem entirely against the idea, just curious about the purpose of it.

"Yes," Lucky answers for Freya. "There is something very wrong with not having had a date in recent history. Especially since you own a -bar- dude. That's pretty much their entire purpose." Though he glances to the stage. "Well. Half of this one's purpose, but you're still neglecting the half that is the mating call!" He shakes his head at Freya. "Aren't you supposed to be his Jiminy Cricket, guiding him through the treaherous pitfalls of the world? Slacker."

Gisa comes in from outside.

"Yes." Freya agrees with Lucky about not having a date in recent history being bad, however, she blinks at him, "I'm not a cricket." She points out, hands lifting up to touch her hair, double-checking to make certain she hasn't grone any kind of antena. "Why am I supposed to be that? Because, to be honest, I'd make a very, very bad one. I'm full of nothing but bad ideas and rash actions."

"I think that's what he was getting at," Joel points out to Freya with a slight shake of his head. The three are seated in the bar area in one of the private booths, recessed and away from the general noise. It's quiet on a Sunday afternoon. There are no shows playing. The carousel isn't running, and half the games aren't staffed. There is music but the DJ isn't there. It's pretty quiet, with only a few regulars around. Joel then says to Lucky, "It's the purpose for the patrons."

"Right, which is precisely what the dating world is all about!" Lucky shakes his head, finishing off his purple whatever-it-is as he slides out of the booth. "I'm leaving him in your care. Make sure that you correct this travesty!" Though he does flash Joel a wink. "Thanks for the drinks," he tells him. "I'll go get to work on setting that game up." And with that, he disappears back out the doors, leaving Freya and Joel at the red booth near the back, afternoon sunlight still streaming in through the windows.

Lucky leaves The Red Booth. (5)

The door opens, and Gisa enters, her expression flat as usual, but her shoulders hunched slightly, perhaps a confused expression for the golem. She steps aside, leaving room for Alonso to follow her in; he'd held the door for her to enter. She's wearing a loose, flowing red shirt and jeans, her fine-copper-wire hair bound back in a smooth braid. "... sweet wine is very good, though I don't think it is Israeli," she explains to Alonso. A few steps toward the bar, out of rote motion, and then she spots Lucky leaving, which draws her attention to the pair at the booth. Her steps slow, and she raises one ceramic hand in greeting.

Oliver comes down a few steps from the lounge and stage area.

Oliver leaves Club Carnivale.

"Oh! Well, shit. Yeah, that I can do, then." Freya replies with a laugh, lifting a hand to give Lucky's retreating form a wave, that then becomes a wave to Gisa and her companion. Then she picks up her drink, and scoots herself right around until she's sitting next to Joel, offering him a winning smile before batting her eyelashes at him, "So, now that I am your Bad Idea Buddy, let's talk about these bad ideas."

Walking in Gisa's shadow, proverbial and otherwise, is Alonso. Dusty, gaunt. That lean and hungry look people warn you about. He tips his hat to the departing Lucky, giving ground so that the other fellow can make his exit without complication. His attention follows Gisa's to the booth over yonder, though he lets Gisa do the greeting. "I never quite grew fond of sweet wines," he admits, "but you drink what you can get in my occupation."

Oliver comes in from outside.

Dielle comes in several moments after the pair. She's wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a black t-shirt with a chibi Deadpool riding a unicorn, and a cowboy hat. Normal clothes. Very low-key. Her hair seems to be braided under the hat, from the tail swinging behind her. "Hey, y'all."

Middle of the afternoon, and there are three recent arrivals -- one Dielle, one Gisa, one Alonso -- and Freya and Joel are at the Red Booth. Gisa and Alonso apparently arrived together and Dielle is catching up to them; Gisa's attention turns firstly to D, before she finishes what she was intending to do. "Dielle, shalom," she greets, with actual emotion in her contralto monotone. Dielle merits actual modulation of the golem's voice. Fact. "I am about to introduce Alonso to Joel and Freya, but we will not interrupt them if they do not want company, beyond the introduction. Plus I must compliment Freya on her act as it was very superb."

She changes her trajectory, from the bar to the booth, and presuming that Alonso follows in her shadow still, says: "Hello, Joel and Freya. I am coming to introduce Alonso to you, but I do not wish to interrupt you if you do not want company, beyond the introduction. Joel, Freya, this is Alonso. He is recently arrived and works at my bookstore. Alonso, Joel owns this place, which is very nice, and at it Freya performed an aerial act the other night, we saw it. Dielle was there also. Freya, I must compliment you on the act as it was superb."

Goylomim are very, very literal.

"Hi." Freya glances up from the conversation to offer Gisa and Alonso both a smile, glancing between them before she shakes her head, "I'm not sure that you are interupting anything, honestly. I'm trying to tempt Joel to the dark side, as it were." She gives a little bit of a wider smile to Gisa at the compliment, "Thank you, I'm glad that you all enjoyed the show, and I'm glad that you all are back. We love repeat customers."

Dielle peeks around the golem to say, "THe dark side? See, now I'm totally curious as to what that is! I'd say hi again, but I already said it once. Should we grab our own table or join you guys?"

Alonso seems at least accustomed to Gisa's hammer to the forehead literalism, as there's no chaffing at her repetitions. There's a respectful tip of the hat to both Joel and Freya, the latter receiving a slight tilt forward from the waist. One might interpret that as a bow if one were so inclined. "Like a finch after snails, fleet and fast. It was most impressive." Alonso once more retreats from the conversation, deferring to Dielle, Gisa, and Freya to sort the matter out. There's a brief shared grin for Joel as he does so. The man knows when he's outnumbered.

Joel watches Lucky depart for a moment and then smirks slightly over at Freya, about to reply to her when the others approach and he turns toward them, lifting his glass in greeting, some sort of vague purplish fizzy drink inside of it. He motions to the very large booth that is almost a small room in and of itself, inviting the others to join them if they like. "Hello, Alonso," he says. "Make yourself comfortable." He then asks Gisa, "The usual?" before looking to Dielle and asking "Shirley Temple?" and then he looks to Alonso, as though waiting for his drink order before he slides out of the booth.

Oliver walks into the room unzipping his long black vinyl rain slicker. To mortal eyes tonight, he has on heavy mascara and black lipstick. To fae eyes his skin is so black it would be to hard to tell. He's wearing knee-high high-heeled Wellington boots, black nail polish and and some kind of fishnet shirt on under the coat that reveals a heavily muscled torso on his small 5'8" stature. Lastly, a top hat is wedged onto his head at a rackish angle. He takes a look around.

She seems somewhat confused at that, her ceramic forehead wrinkling up. Gisa nods slowly. "Oh. I do not know about the dark side, but the internet assures me that they have cookies." That might be golem humor. It's often difficult to tell. Joel's request has her nodding the once. "Please, and thank you very much," she answers him, and slides in to the booth; when you're the broad-shouldered one, it's usually better to be on the inside of the booth. No one likes to have to try to get past you. Her eyesflames flicker sharp and bright as she settles in; it's possible she notices Oliver, it's possible not. Kind of impossible usually to know where she's looking.

"Yes, please, sir," replies Dielle to Joel's query. "Good memory for drinks!" She scoots into the booth, on the outside. She doesn't mind getting up repeatedly, if necessary. "Miss, your act was amazin', it was a pleasure to watch it," she says to Freya. Turning her head a bit, she sees Oliver and waves at him.

"You're supposed to be off!" Freya informs Joel, but she doesn't make any other move to stop him from fetching drinks, since they are, in fact, wonderful drinks. "They do have cookies, and sex." She agrees before winking at Dielle, "Well, Joel is apparently unable or unwilling to date, and as far as we can figure out, it's because he's silly, and we're working to fix this. But that doesn't matter, really. He's getting laid tonight, it's written in the stars."

"It's my job," Joel tells Dielle with a little flicker of a smile that just tugs at the edges of his lips. Then he looks over at Freya and just stares at her with those solid black eyes for a long moment, nearly expressionless. The only way to really tell that he's looking at her is that his face is pointed in her direction, and the way his lips thin slightly. Then he nods to Gisa and waits for Alonso to give his order beore he walks away, opting not to respond to the commentary on his dating life or lack thereof, at least not at the moment.

Oliver arrives at Joel's table, waving back to Dielle as he does so, "In the Stars? I thought it was written on his Tinder profile." He smiles slowly. "Or maybe Grindr?" He laughs and tries to get a server's attention. "Would be a doll and bring me a Negroni?"

"A glass of sherry, please and thank you," Alonso offers to Joel when it seems the man is waiting on his order. He does not slide into the booth just yet, letting the ladies slide in first and instead drawing a chair over to straddle it backwards at the end of the booth. He removes his hat, smacking it against his knee a few times before leaving it atop his knee. He scratches at the top of his head as he considers the whole topic of sex and dating, his eyes briefly tracking after Joel. "Perhaps he has no interest in either? A man ought to be able to decide where and when he applies himself in such matters, yes? Who am I to gainsay his decision? Celibacy is a perfectly catholic virtue." A beat later, "Which is perhaps its only negative."

Oliver goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

Gisa goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

Dielle goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

"I appreciate it," Gisa assures Joel, and she looks at Freya -- her head actually turns, now that she's sitting down and they're close enough. Her forehead wrinkles up a little more, and the shin on her forehead, that fiery sigil, flares rather abruptly, then slowly turns back down again to its usual dull flames. "I see." Perhaps she's confused by the turn of the conversation, or doesn't follow what the apps are. In any case, she goes quiet for a while, her shin flaring every so often, hands clasping together on the table with a click-click of clay on clay.

Alonso goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

Dielle watches Joel's reaction to Freya's comment and says, "I try not to get involved in anyone's dating life if it isn't mine or my boy's. Not unless asked. Healthier for everyone around. Besides, Joel's an adult. He gets to say he don't want to date if he wants to, it's one of the best parts of bein' a grownup!" She pauses, as if considering her words, then nods. Yeah, she's satisfied.

Oliver goes up the steps into the lounge and stage area.

Oliver leaves The Red Booth. (5)

Freya's brows flick upwards at Olivier, "Uh...huh. I wouldn't know what anyone's Tinder or Grindr profiles say, so I'll just leave that to you to interpret for us." She reaches for her unfinished purple fizzy drink, taking a sip off it before shifting conversational gears, "So I was suggesting to Joel earlier a change in my routine, something new and fresh for the summer season."

"Change is good," Alonso offers Freya's way, "so long as it is change for the better. So it would depend entirely on what you had in mind, I suppose." He's happy to change the topic, it seems. Leave poor Joel's preferences out of the whole matter entirely. "I myself am too recently arrived to have any particular ruts. I am sure I will in time. Maybe I will take up shaving regularly." He brushes at his moustache for a time or two, perhaps reassuring it this is only in jest.

For the first time since the topic turned to things like apps for dating, gender preferences, and other people's dating lives, Gisa speaks up, and it's in response to Alonso's gest. "No. Don't." And then she clears her throat, a sound like a pile of pebbles being tossed down sheet metal. "What change in the routine were you suggesting?" to Freya. The smell of petrichor and the strike of a match head accompanies this change in conversational topic -- get enough Dawns at a table and start talking about change? Mantles will respond.

There was a look for Oliver and the same thin-lipped expression as he depearts. After a short while, he returns with the drinks, depositing a sherry in front of Alonzo, shirley temple in front of Dielle, a sweet wine before Gisa, and another one of those fizzy drinks though this time in a rich amber hue in front of Freya. Each time it's something a little bit different. His own is the same as Freya's. He settles back into his seat then, lifting his glass. He glances between those gathered as though waiting to see what turn the conversation has taken, and when it seems to have turned to Freya's routine he says, "Tell them what you were thinking of doing."

Dielle murmurs her thanks to Joel and settles back, listening and keeping quiet. It's something she frequently does in large groups. She just looks and listens and watches and evaluates.

"Not certain, actually. Maybe switching from hoop to silks for a little while, or a combination of the two." Freya picks up the purple one, finishing the last few sips in it before reaching for the fresh amber colored one, "Brighten up the costumes some, the makeup...change the lighting to warmer colors."

"No?" Alonso gives Gisa an appraising look while continuing to stroke at his moustache. He frowns as though in thought, then nods his head, giving his moustache an upwards curl with a twirl of his thumb and forefinger, "No." The moustache is given a reprieve. "Salud," Alonso offers to Joel as he lifts the glass he was brought towards the man who brought it. A sip is taken to the man's health, and then Alonso is back to the topic at hand. Which is apparently fashion. A topic about which he is very obviously unqualified to speak upon. "I like warm colors." See? Terrible.

"No." And that is the answer that Gisa has for Alonso and his Spanish Look of Appraisal (patent pending). Raising her glass of wine to Joel when he sets it before her, Gisa responds to Alonso's toast with "L'chaim," then takes a swallow of her wine. The golem's attention fixes on Freya, next, and her ceramic fingers squeak on her glass. "I do not know anything about clothing. But I think a change in a show is a fresh thing, more people will come to see it."

Joel toasts Gisa in return when she lifts her glass. He nods to Alonso and Dielle as well before saying, "I think that a change in the color scheme and the focus of the disciplines in the show will freshen it up a bit. I hired a new performer today and have a couple of others who are interested, so our spring and summer season should prove to have some more variety soon as well."

Freya lifts her glass as well, smiling before she takes a sip off her drink, setting it down. "Well, the clothing is rather limited as far as clothing goes. It has to function for the purpose, but beyond that, it's more costume than clothing. I've a girl, though, does beautiful costumes....I'll pass along the information, and we can debut a new act in a few weeks." She glances at Joel, her brows raising before she laughs, "A new performer already? Now that is kismet."

Dielle says, thoughtfully, "Is it Haruki? He does this amazing stuff with origami. And from what I understand, his brother's also a magician."

Alonso follows the conversation with his eyes, sipping his glass here and there, but adds nothing to the topic, content to listen and learn. He tosses back the last of his glass, then ticks his head Joel's way, pointing at his glass, then over to the bar in question. Mind if I help myself?

"Haruki?" asks Gisa, bringing her glass up to her lips for another sip. "I do not think I have met Haruki. Who is his brother?" The responses sound automatic, in her monotone, but somehow, they're very sincere. She turns back to Freya, then. "Please make sure that we know when the new act debuts? I would like to be here for opening of this act. We will close the shop if need be."

"She has a number of skills. She auditioned on the silk and by the end of the performance, the entire staff was in there applauding. It was.. pretty impressive. But she also does fire dancing and knife throwing. I think we'll have her likely start with the fire dancing since we don't currently have someone doing that, or the knife throwing," Joel says. Then he shakes his head to Dielle and says, "Haruki came by, but no, I have not hired him to perform here." His tone grows a little bit flat.

Logan comes in from outside.

Dross comes in from outside.

Everyone sits in or around the red booth. Alonso has a chair pulled up at the end of the booth which he is straddling. Or was, in any case. He's rising from his seat and sauntering towards the bar to avail himself of a bottle of sherry, refilling his glass. He turns back about and meanders back, not seating himself immediately. He rests a foot on the chair seat and leans onto his knee with one arm. Continuing to listen in on the conversation. "Not a fan?" It is asked of Joel, no doubt of Haruki. A sip of his new glass is taken.

It's lateish afternoon on a Sunday at Club Carnivale. Most of the Midway games are shut down, a few on. There is music, but the DJ is not present. The carousel is still. It's not a busy time for the club at all. There are no shows in the lounge currently. However, there are people in the bar area between the Midway and the Main Event. In one of the private recessed large booths are several people gathered and talking among themselves. Stella, the bartender up at the bar is attending to the customers there, a few locals but not too many more. It's not time for the club to be in swing yet, but it's open, for those who want to play the games that are open, drink, and socialize.

"I will, you can be sure of that. I might even take out a full page ad for the debut." Freya's kidding about the last part, but certainly not the first part. She doesn't seem to know the names, so offers no comment about them, however she hides a frown behind her drink when it's mentioned that this new performer started her audition on silks. People say competition is a good thing, afterall.

"Doesn't look too packed in here." Perhaps the lack of business is just the thing right now. It's nice to be able to hear yourself on occasion, after all. Logan opens the door to the club with a curious smile on his face. He's wearing one of his Hedgespun 'uniforms' to Lost eyes, this one white with blue trim and gold buttons. The door is held open to someone behind him as his blue eyes slowly scan the room. He naturally brings a burst of light in the door with him -- along with a chaser of shadow.

A tall, lean man--Dross--enters through the door along with the chaser of shadow following Logan. He looks around with just his eyes, not turning his head, at each person in the bar, making eye contact with anyone who happens to look back his way. He doesn't say anything in answer to Logan; just nods.

Dielle glances at Joel, when she hears the edge in his voice. She raises her eyebrows and makes a thoughtful face with a weird mouth gesture, as though thinking over the observation, before sipping from her drink. She waves at Logan when he comes in, but yeah, she's keeping quiet again.

"What is the name of the fire performer, may I ask? I would like to watch that." No kidding. The golem leans back a little bit in the booth, the flames in her eyepits dancing a little bit at the idea. Her voice is a monotone, contralto -- quite low for a woman, especially for one who is exactly average height -- and her accent is an even Israeli one, the accents falling more heavily on the last syllables of each word. Even the golem hears the edge in Joel's voice, and Gisa clears her throat. Ahem.

Gisa does give Freya something approximating a smile. "Good. I wish to see the new act." Repetitive golem.

Once Dross is inside, Logan gives him a smile. Why have one smile for everything and everyone when each person can get an individual one. Noticing Dielle waving, he waves cheerfully back at her, heading her way and making sure Dross isn't get lost somewhere. He comes to rest in front of the booth everyone is sitting in. "Hi, Dielle. Good to see you again." His blue gaze turns to Gisa next, with a nod. "Gisa. Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm glad to see some familiar faces."

Bright light. Alonso returns his hat to his head and lowers the brim significantly. He settles back down into his seat, as though lowering his profile might in some way help the feeling of being in the spotlight. He peers over Gisa's way as she speaks, then looks back down into his glass, taking another quick sip. "Introductions are in order, I believe. I do not remember having the pleasure."

"It isn't that I am not a fan. He seems quite pleasant," Joel says and that seems to be exactly the end of what he's willing to say on that topic. Immediately he turns his attention to Gisa and says, "The one that I auditioned today? Kseniya is her name. She comes from a carnival family, one that my uncle was familiar with. She's an impressive performer." He glances in the direction that Dielle is waving, noting Logan as he approaches and studying him from where he sits.

"Logan, hello. It is good to see you again." Gisa's easy monotone is turned to the newcomers. "Do you know everyone here?" Her free hand reaches over and briefly rests on Dielle's wrist, and then withdraws. "Kseniya. That is a curious name. It is very pretty. I look forward to seeing her perform." More wine for her? Yes. She's still on her first glass, draining it in slow sips.

Freya smiles at Gisa, but then lapses back into her frown, sipping at her drink. When the two newest arrive she manages to smile at them, but it's a quick smile before she's starting to climb out of the booth. "Pardon me, nature calls."

"I don't, no," Logan says to Gisa, blue eyes moving to take in the folks he doesn't know, including Alonso, and offers his bright grin all around. "Just you and Dielle. But if I'm interrupting, please. Don't let me get in the way. Oh, this is my friend Dross," and he claps the other standing man on the shoulder. "He's new in town." A polite nod is given to the escaping Freya, and naturally he'll stand aside if she needs to get around him.

"Nice to see you again, Freya. Nice ta meet'cha, Dross." Dielle's voice is subdued, and quieter than normal. But she sounds polite enough, and she offers the newcomers a smile.

"Good evening," says Dross. His eyes pause on each person seated at the booth in turn--Freya first, since she's escaping, which he also makes way for if needed, but he looks closely at each of you: Dielle, Joel, Gisa, and Alonso, too. He seems to appreciate the smile from Dielle, adding, "Pleased to meet you." He glances back toward Logan then, out of the corner of his eyes, too, as if to see how they're doing.

Alonso rises from his seat as Freya excuses himself from the table, tipping his hat to her as she passes him by on her way to the rest room. This affords him the opportunity to extend his hand out towards Logan first, then to Dross. He never quite looks Logan dead in the face, what with peering out from under the shadows of his hat as he is. "Alonso," is his simple introduction to both. "Recently arrived, myself. A friend of Gisa and Dielle. Recently acquainted with the others, here. And, I am afraid, soon to be on my way. I begin to wind up as the rest of the world winds down, you see."

Joel nods as Dross and Logan are introduced and says, "Joel," by way of introducing himself. "Make yourselves comfortable." He motions toward the large booth, "Everyone's welcome." He doesn't seem to mind everyone settling themselves in, though he does begin to rise from his seat when Freya begins to move off. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment though," and he begins to move away from the table.

Logan smiles back in Dross' direction as if to say: yes, you did fine. Then he nods at Alonso, though if he notices the other man not looking at him in the face, he doesn't point it out. "Well, it's good to meet you, Alonso." His friendly gaze moves to Joel next. He takes each person in like they're the only thing in the world, at least for a moment. "Great to meet you as well, Joel. Thanks for the offer!" He does indeed take a seat in the booth, near the end with his back away from the door.

"Well, that is Freya. She is an aerial artist. Very good. Freya, that is Logan and Dross." Before Freya scoots off to the restroom, Gisa tries to at least get the intro in. And then she goes 'round -- "Alonso works at my bookstore. Alonso, Logan and his friend Dross who is new. And Joel of course who owns this place." She finishes her wine and sets the glass on the table with a soft click. "You are welcome to come and visit my bookstore. But I must -- like Alonso -- be on my way, sadly." Another pat on Dielle's wrist, this one a signaling one -- 'please let me out.'

Dielle offers Gisa a smile, then scoots out to let her friend out. She'll wait by the side until everyone's out who wants to be.

After excusing herself for a moment Freya returns, looking less irritated about something, that smile back. She heads back towards the table, "I am so, so sorry...That was very rude of me to have run off like that."

"The bookstore, of course." Logan folds his golden-tinged hands on the table and nods pleasantly in Gisa's direction. "I will definitely do that." If he has to stand again to let more people out, he will of course. Otherwise, he remains seated. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that most of you have to go, but I understand. I guess it is late." His blue eyes move to Dross for a moment, vague curiosity resting in his gaze. But then Freya returns, and his grin perks up again. "Hi! Freya, wasn't it?"

Gisa leaves The Red Booth. (5)

Dielle is about to get back in the booth, but she gets a text. She stops, takes her phone out of her back pocket and looks at it. "Well, shit. Got to go, it's a work thing." Ok, it's not precisely a work thing, it's her boyfriend's work thing, but that's not the point, it means something hinky is going on. She puts down enough money to pay for her drink and tip on the table, within sight of the waitress and says, "Nice t'see y'all again." Then she skedaddles.

Dielle leaves The Red Booth. (5)

Dross looks around the booth again, as if to verify just who is still here. The number of people in this bar seems to have changed drastically in the past few minutes. But he looks as if maybe it's a bit of a relief to be able to focus on a few new faces to start with. "Not at all rude," he says quietly to Freya, taking a seat next to Logan. Something about her seems to impress him--probably the long, carefully plaited red hair. "Dross. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Dross goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

Logan goes over to The Red Booth. (5)

"Yes, Freya." She replies, smiling at the pair leaving, then at the pair staying as she slides herself back into the booth, flicking her braid over her shoulder, "It's nice to meet you both, is this your first time coming to the Club?"

Logan waves to Dielle as she departs. "See you around, Dielle!" He seems to be watching Dross for a moment longer before his friendly attention alights on Freya. "First time, yes. I must say, it's impressive." His blue eyes wind around the room, taking in the sight. "I had no idea anything like this even existed in Vermont!"

Dross also nods to those leaving, then returns his attention to those still at the table. He looks a bit out of his element here: an almost colorless figure in the bright surroundings of the bar, particularly next to Freya and Logan, who both seem almost like light sources to him. He says, "Yes. Do you know which drinks are good here?"

Freya laughs at that, "Which ones? All of them." She shakes her head a bit, reaching for the drink she'd abandoned on the table before, "Joel is really the one to ask more specifically, I mostly just drink what they give me, or beer if I'm actually performing anytime that night."

"I'd love to see you perform sometime," Logan says agreeably. "I'm sure Dross would, too. When's your next performance?" He glances around to see if there is anyone actually working to get them drinks, or if they'll have to go up to the bar and order that way.

Dross's eyebrows go up slightly when Freya laughs at his question, but he doesn't seem put off. If anything, he seems keener than before to know more. He glances sideways at Logan when he hears his name: yes, and? After resting a brief, quizzical look on Logan, he turns his attention back to Freya. Also her drink--whatever it is, it looks good. Although according to what she said, all the drinks here are good. "What is it that you do here?"

Where Joel wandered off to is anyone's guess. Sometimes he's just needed to do this or that. When he returns, however, it is with four drinks, two glasses in each hand which he sets down on the table. Inside is a fizzy reddish orange concoction that has a distinctly citrusy scent with a hint of something else, something cinnamon perhaps, something some other spice. It's quite potent. These, he indicates, are the drinks that they should have. "On the house," he says to the three seated before he slides back into the seat he had been occupying before he'd have to run off.

"Tomorrow night, at nine." Freya replies with a smile, leaning back in her seat, her hands wrapped around the glass in front of her, "I'm an aerialist, the current routine is done with hoops." She then pauses, lifting a hand, "One hoop, really. But I've been working up a new routine for the summer, with silks. Maybe." She glances at Joel when he returns, with drinks, "You read their minds."

Logan lets out a laugh when he sees the drinks. "Wow, Joel. You really did. Thanks!" He scoops up one of them and wafts it under his nose. "Citrus. It's like you know me, and we just met." The glass is raised in Freya's direction. "I'd like to try and come check out your show. I love aerial stuff."

The drinks are the best surprise of the night! Dross actually smiles. "Thank you, Joel." He pulls one of the drinks in and cradles it for a moment between two long hands before taking a slow drink. He blinks hard, phthalo blue eyes fixed on Joel's face when he looks up from the drink. "Did you make this? You have some talent..."

Looking back at Freya, he says, "That sounds very interesting. I'd like to see sometime, too."

"I did," Joel says to Dross and then says, "That may be why they keep me around here." He looks back at Dross with those solid black eyes, no hint of white or color at all, simply reflecting whatever looks into them back. It's most likely he's looking at dross. Everyone is sitting at a sufficient angle that if he turns his head, one might suspect that he's looking at them. Then he says to Freya, "Still haven't picked up mind reading or fortune telling, unfortunately."

"Everyone is welcome to come, five nights a week I'm on stage." Freya replies, finishing the amber drink before reaching for the fresh one, fingers tapping across the surface of it, "No? I swear that I thought you'd picked up mind reading ages ago."

Max comes in from outside.

Logan takes a drink as well, and nods his approval over it. "That's /really/ good. I'd say this is a pretty impressive talent." That's directed at Joel. He's sitting in a big red booth with the others, holding a fizzy reddish orange drink, looking his usual golden-light-and-shadow-self. Then he glances to Freya next. "Five nights a week? That sounds like hard work!"

When the door opens, Dross looks up to see who it is. Another stranger--but then, he's new, and everyone looks like a stranger to him. After watching Max for a few seconds to see if she'll come over, he picks his drink up again and turns it around, accidentally brushing Logan's hand with the outside of his little finger and having to pull the nervous activity back closer to his body. "People must tell you plenty of information all on their own, with drinks like this," he says to Joel. Then he looks back at Freya. "What is your routine like?" It's better to see it than to hear about it, but... just to get an idea.

It's a Sunday evening and Max has had an interesting weekend, so she decides that a few drinks somewhere is the best way to end it. She has yet to visit this Carnivale place and figures tonight is as good of an opportunity as any. Wandering inside, the enchanted mortal has to pause momentarily because of the bright and loud atmosphere. A bit of a grin tugs at her lips and she makes her way further in. As she's exploring the area, a familiar brightness catches her attention. It's Logan! The people with him aren't faces she knows, but that's never stopped her from being social. Making her way to where the group is sitting, she lifts a hand to wave in greeting as she approaches. "Hey!" The young woman is dressed casually, because she doesn't really own anything else beyond a plain and simple wardrobe. A flannel shirt with a tank top underneath, denim shorts, with sneakers, a messenger bag hangs from her shoulder and her hair is worn down in loose curls. "How's it going, Logan? Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Sometimes people like to talk," Joel nodds in answer to Dross, "And I like to hear their stories. So I don't mind listening." Then he dips his head a bit to Logan and says "I'm glad that you enjoy it. I might have to put it on the menu at some point." He then nods and says, "Freya is one of our headliners and has a fantastic show which you will definitely need to see in order to fully appreciate." When somene else approaches the table, he turns his attention toward her, those solid black eyes and his somewhat neautrl expression revealing nothing of what he might be thinking. But she seems to know Logan and so he gestures for her to have a seat.

Logan glances Dross' way when his finger brushes his hand, although there's not much change in facial expression. Then he looks up as well. After all, Max is not only coming their way but saying his name. He offers her his usual bright smile, the same one he gives everyone else. Friendly, dimpled, and full of perfect teeth. "Well, hey there, Max. Fancy meeting you here. This is my friend Dross," and he indicates the tall, thin Darkling with a casual hand, "and this is Joel and Freya, whom I've just met." He passes a glance back over to Joel and says, "What's the name of this drink, anyway? If it doesn't have a name, maybe you should name it after her." He indicates Freya with a grin. "It matches her hair."

"Well, there is music, fabulous music, and movement." Freya replies with a laugh, shaking her head a moment, a hand raising to indicate the air above the booth, "I'm up in the air, dangling without a net, doing....well....aerial acrobatics with a large hoop, or silks, usually."

Dross nods, looking engaged. "And is there a theme?"

When Max arrives, he stands, a bit old-fashionedly, and gestures to the booth for her to sit down. He's about a foot taller than she is and maybe looks a bit funny standing over her like this. "Pleased to meet you," he says. "The drinks are quite good." This last with another look at Joel and his black, reflective eyes.

"It doesn't have a name," Joel admits, "But I think naming it after Freya makes sense." He considers for a moment and then nods, seeming to agree on that point. He remainsfor a little bit longer, listening and talking a little about the shows, but eventually he slides out of the booth and he rests his hand briefly on Freya's shoulder to give it a light squeeze. "I'm afraid I have to head out, but it was good to meet you. Come again soon." And then he begins to make his way out of the room.

Max looks pleased when she's invited to sit with them by Joel. The offered seat is taken and she rests her bag onto the ground. An appreciative look is given to Dross when he stands and she takes her seat while making sure not to accidentally brush up against anyone. Setting her bag on the ground, she makes herself comfortable in her seat. "Pleasure to meet you all." Dross is eyed a bit curiously for a moment, but Max sets her gaze on Freya. "What did I hear about some acrobatic stuff?" she questions with interest.