Log:Familiar Faces

Familiar Faces
"You look like my great granddad."
Participants Dielle, Franklyn, November, Alistair, Signe	2017.11.09 Alistair wanders into the Desrochers Family pub to see what people are up to and meets a relative. Others filter in.
Location Desrochers Pub
Its Signe and Noah working the bar tonight. Jacob got lucky and got the night off. Or maybe he was out running the hellhound. Who knew? The silver haired Fae-Touched is currently fixing a few beers for some of the regulars and sharing a story, "So anyways. Al gets loose from me and goes tearing ass down the street like he's trying to catch the ice cream truck. And this nice guy gets in the way and tries to help out and I accidentally tackled him like a defensive lineman and that's how we got our new bar back." she chuckles to the older gents. Alistair has toned it down. Which is to say that he's not wearing a sword and the cloak has been swapped for a leather jacket. The boots.. are only calf height as opposed to full thigh. Yep, he's really casualling it up. Either way, he comes into the bar and saunters to the bar with the walk of confidence. "Ahhh the much vaunted Taverne Desrochers." He laughs and straddles a bar stool. "Forgive me. I was having a moment of French vernacular. It's not important." With a look up and down the length of the counter, he settles in on Signe, "Barkeep, what do you recommend?" "Signe you weigh less than my granddaughter. I don't believe you tackled any man. He probably let you." One of the men pipes up. Noah just shakes his head at that. A look given to Alistair as he comes in, but he allows Signe to handle it. Signe offers a smile to Alistair, "Do you have a thing for the French?" she asks him. "Our family has French roots." she tells him. "And I recommend anything that's brewed by us. But I'm bias." she admits. "Do you like something sweet or a mix?" she asks him. Alistair takes a moment to consider the question. "I will be honest with you. Despite the filial penchant for ale, most of what I have consumed is wine, cognac, vermouth and absinthe.. so I could not say for which I have a preference." His fingers dance an dity on the bartop as he muses. "Shall we simply say one of each and I will decide by the end of the evening?" He smiles. "I should probably procure the number of a taxi service before we begin." "Do you speak French, sir?" Signe asks him. Because that's not something that's odd. Or it's just nice. Or it's a small place and Signe doesn't get to use it a lot. Then there's a laugh, "I can set them up for you, yes. And I can call a taxi for you if you want. I promise no one is going to roll you for your money or anything." she tells him as she starts to pull bottles from the case behind her. "Mais oui." Alistair replies, his accent slipping into a rustic French naturally. "I have come but recently from Paris for I have discovered that my great grandfather was an American who fought in the first world war." He takes an offered bottle and pops the top off of it with a flick. Impressive really as he didn't use a bottle opener. "And so." He lifts the bottle in toast. "To freedom, to family, to Desrochers." He tips his chin to Signe and then the bottle to his lips. ~If you get way too drunk and shock me or Noah or well...anyone...I'm gonna be really cross with you.~ Signe tells him in French with a chuckle. She then finishes setting the final bottle down and there's a look to him. There's a look to him, "Odd. You look like a relative of ours." she admits. She lifts her bottle of water to him, "To freedom." she tells him with a smile. Alistair swings the bottle from the neck by two fingers as he looks to Signe. "And why should I not? If there is my great grandfather in me then why can I not be in him, hmm?" He puts the bottle to his lips again. This time, he swishes the beer around in his mouth a little. "Do you have.. bread? Cheese? Perhaps water? Something to cleanse the palate between samplings." As he takes another sample, he looks her up and down, ~Mademoiselle, a drunk I might become but to shock? Perhaps you think me electric? I am a gentleman and would surely be not so crass.~ Signe just gives a squint, those blue eyes looking a bit oddly for a moment at the man. Who was he?! "You do look like great grandad is the weird part." she chuckles. "We've got water and things, yes. One sec." she states. "Hey, Noah. Can you get a water and a sampler platter?" she asks him. Once that's done she looks back to Alistair, ~I more meant that as a courtesy of I can see you.~ she points out. Alistair merely arches a brow at Signe as he lowers the bottle. "Stranger things in life have happened and proved to be true." He shrugs. "Would I deny the resemblance? Can I? Should I? Not in the least. No. Not at all. In fact, I shall be proud to say it. He died an honorable enough death do you not think?" He sets the bottle down to the counter and lets his head tilt to the side, ~Do you? Do you see the man behind the mask? Once it was thus in the Bastille. A man held against his will til he was but no longer himself until, freed, he had found that he had become the mask. I shall try not to become so.~ "They say everyone's got a doppelganger." Signe states. Or a Fetch. Thankfully the bars not that full tonight. And people are clearing out. Then she looks at him for a moment, ~Well, you're definitely a man...that's got a lot of lighting and light. And well...it's hard not to notice.~ she tells him in French. Then Noah's coming back with the food that was ordered for Alistair and his water. Alistair hmms skeptically. "Perhaps. Perhaps." He gives Noah a broad smile. "Ah. But perhaps I should speak to payment before I begin in earnest." He reaches into his pants and pulls out a billfold. "So. I shant wish to break the bank but.." He muses, head bobbing as he does some mental math. "Well. For family, I will tip until it hurts." He fishes out two fifties and puts them on the bar. "Cut me off at six. If I do not sample them all, I will simply have an excuse to return tomorrow, oui?" It's almost ten in the evening at Desrochers. Noah and Signe are manning the bar tonight since Jacob's babysitting the hellhound while mom works. Because that's what good guys do. Alistair is seated at the bar partaking of brews and some of the local food. Signe's ebon brow quirks up and those light eyes just lock onto Alistair for a moment, "You're weird." she tells him with a chuckle. "Means you'll fit in just fine." she adds with a nod. "And well, if you're family then you won't be breaking the bank as it is." she smiles to him." she states to that. "But having an excuse to come back tomorrow is always a good reason." she admits. Signe looks to the fifties on the bar, "Wait, you only need one of those..." Androgynous, but female nonetheless, the very tall young woman stepping into the pub carries with her a sense of fickle energy, potential eager to become kinetic. Loose aside from a tiny braid behind her left ear, her thigh-length hair is a spill of brilliant colours perhaps too rich, eyes a sharp and all too sanguine red. It's a subtle thing, but even veiled in totally-human-no-really flesh, November seems .. a touch more -real- than the world around her. Her colours are more saturated, and, in this case, all the brighter compared to the black of her t-shirt. Tunic-length, it declares in fantasy old-timey letters CHAOTIC EVIL across the bust, then, in smaller text, means never having to say you're sorry. Well-loved jeans formerly black, now grey, a black leather belt with tiny bone skull beads and amber fangs, and soft-soled leather ankle boots complete the outfit. Appearances aside, she's humming as she approaches the bar, and flashes a swift and crooked smile toward Signe and Alistair along the way. A glance between Noah and Signe seeks out which bartender seems least occupied. Dielle comes in several moments after November. She's wearing a t-shirt with Fat Amy from Pitch Perfect on it, and the caption reads "I'm gonna pitch slap you so hard..." and when she takes her long, black wool coat off, the back reads, "your man-boobs are gonna concave." With that are jeans, cowboy boots and her usual cowboy hat with two duct-tape roses next to the peacock feather in it. She heads towards the bar, too, once in, and takes her coat off so the back of her shirt can be seen. Alistair is seated at the bar sampling the local offerings, a platter, multiple bottles of beer.. and a smile. At least until the two new patrons enter. Then the smile becomes a perplexed look of great befuddlement. Rather than try to figure it out, he simply goes back to his beer. Beer is safer. He takes the opener and cracks number two. "Strange is in the eye of the beholder. I have seen many things I would consider strange when first I saw them." He takes a pull on the beer. "The locals, for instance, very colorful people." Noah gives a smile to the ladies that walk in, "You guys can pick whichever you think is prettier." he tells them. "I will not be offended." he adds. And he wouldn't be. He's just that kinda guy. Signe gives a nod of greeting to November and then a wave and a smile to Dielle, "Hiya!" she tells her. Then she looks back to Alistair and there's a smile, "Very colorful indeed. Be it hair or tattoos or other things." she agrees with this as she slyly tries to slide the other fifty back towards him. It's probably not working out. But she's trying. "Never colourful enough," comes November's glib, lilting reply, a graceful hand giving a playful flip of her hair to fan its streaky length over a shoulder. Her accent is a blend of Irish-kissed New England. "Haven't seen any Beholders, though. All for the better, that." A brief frown touches her brow, there and gone again. "They wiped my D&D party back at university." Glancing behind her toward Dielle, the totally-a-human-yes-of-course Ancient smiles her way as well. "Explain to them why rainbows are best," she urges, blood-red eyes lifting to Dielle's hair, then back to the other woman's eyes. The taller rainbow drops lightly onto a stool beside the duo, tilting her head, and asks Signe, "Have we met? You seem familiar." Dielle says, brightly, "Rainbows are /always/ best! Pretty, colorful and we can make your eyes bleed out if we /really/ want to! Plus, everyone feels happier for seein' a good rainbow. And when it's a double rainbow? Man, I ain't seen many of them in my life, but they always impress the snot out of me!" She snickers at November, with a giant grin, and sits down on a stool next to her. "Hey, Signe! How's Alocer doin'?" Most of the business for the night that isn't family or Changeling is clearing out for the night. "Beholders will really TPK a party in short order if you aren't prepared." Signe nods solemnly in agreement with November. "I'm Signe. Part of your guys group. But on quarantine currently between work and home until my particular sickness gets taken care of." she states quietly. Then there's a smile to Dielle, "Al's doing alright, he's at home with Jacob. Since when he's here he 'eats too much' and 'threatens to bite drunks'." she chuckles. Then she gives a look between the two Rainbows, "What can I get you ladies tonight?" she asks them. "November," the taller rainbow offers, "in case it hasn't been said before. I've been wondering whether I should add some 'monsters' as swinging practice targets for the joust... couldn't hurt." Pale fingers strum against the edge of the bar, then lift, hand sliding behind herself as she leans forward to free her rear pocket and slide out a slim black phone. With a few taps and swipes, she gets a note app open, and starts scribbling down the thought. "Aaaand done." A finger holds a button on the side of the phone, blanking the screen, and she leans forward again to make room for herself to slide it back into her pocket. "Something fruity, if possible. I've been falling off of horses all day, and I could use the alcohol to numb my posterior." Dielle says, "Ginger ale, for me, please, and thanks. Oh! Horses, right! You opened that place where people can go and eat and watch other people be all medieval, right? That place looks like a heck of a lot of fun!" Dielle says, "Ginger ale, for me, please, and thanks. Oh! Horses, right! You opened that place where people can go and eat and watch other people be all medieval, right? That place looks like a heck of a lot of fun!" She grins at Signe, then, and says, "Alocer'd probably love Miss November's place, then. He'd get to be all big and imposing and people'd think it was his job and shit." "Nice to put a name with a face, November." Signe tells the taller rainbow. Signe's not short herself. But she's not six foot! "Ooo. I like that idea." she points out. Then she's listening for a moment and there's a nod to the fruity request, "I've been working on a blood orange cocktail. Coming right up." she tells her as she starts in on it. Then there's a grin to Dielle as she pokes Noah to get her a Ginger ale and he does so with a grin and he does it quick. "He probably would, yeah. Probably will take him out there sometime. He got his service dog vest this week. He's not happy." she muses. "And be all mediaeval themselves, yes," November confirms, nodding to Dielle, "though we do require prospective knights to certify with us for safety's sake. The insurance has been a bloody nuisance, but we have waivers out the wazoo for folks to sign saying they were the ones stupid enough to decide to race toward each other riding fifteen-hand horses in full armour with big sticks." Such an advertising pitch! With a laugh at herself and a slight shake of her head, hair following the motion with an almost hypnotic display of colours as the streaks slide over the hues below, she lifts sanguine eyes to follow Signe's motions, musing aloud, "Large dogs, with or without service vests, would certainly be welcome. There's enough horse manure that I can't imagine doggy doo doo would make overmuch of a difference. I'd want to see how well he behaves around the horses before I let him into my stable, but on the grounds..." A hand lifts, palm up, in smiling ambivalence. Dielle snickers and says, "I'd just wanna go swan around in a gorgeous dress and pretend I ain't trailer trash, personally. I'd feel too bad for the horses." There's a sly grin on her face, and says, "Signe, you're makin' me sorry I don't drink much. But I got the truck. And drunk driving is bad, mmm'kay?" She's sitting on a bar stool next to November, and in front of Signe and Noah, who are behind the bar. She gets her ginger ale from Noah and is delighted to see the cherries in it. YAY! Cherries! "He umm..." Signe looks to Dielle, "He's one of those umm...he was my cousin Kerrigan's. I sorta got him after she died." she tells November. "I think he'd behave. I just think we need to work on home things before we chance it." she chuckles. There's a look up and down the bar before she leans in, taking a seat, "So did you guys ever take care of all that dream business?" she asks as she finishes the cocktail with a slice of blood orange and slides it with nimble fingers over to November. Then to Dielle there's a grin from the silver haired woman, "I will make you one another night. Or I can bring stuff over sometime. How are Jon and Tony doing?" she asks. Who's that girl? ... It's Frank! Gliding on into Desrochers with all the air of someone who has possibly already been t Alchemy or Carnivale or any number of the other watering holes in the Entertainment District. Hell; maybe the Garreau Girl's been drinking at her own Green Door Theatre, because she is dressed for work: of course... Who wears a dark, oxblood velvet suit and a shirt with a tombstone engraved with 'EVERYTHING WAS BEAUTIFUL, AND NOTHING HURT' to work? Franklyn! That's who! The Mortal girl stops tapping on her phone as she steps up to the bar, swoopin' her hair out of her face as she turns towards the barkeep and--- Oh look over there... Franklyn's mission for booze is slowed significantly, as she spots the trio and... Well it's not really any of her business, is it? And yet, she isn't looking away, she's just... Raising her hand and wiggling her fingers in their direction; sure, Dielle and Signe she may not recognise - but November? She gets a big ol' complicated smile from Franklyn. November shakes her head a bit at Dielle, assuring, "I made certain that every horse we purchased -wanted- to compete. We have a blend of ages, and some few of them are...ah...temperamental, until they know their rider is up to their par," as she so clearly was not, given the way she shifts her jeans-covered patoot in remembered discomfort upon her bar stool. The rainbow considers Dielle, her colouration, and wonders aloud, "Which house would you fit best in..? Juliard, possibly." Out comes the phone again, and she's pulling up a webpage (http://fatesharvest.com/w/Rising_Sun_Tourneys) to show Dielle, phone slid over the bar even as Signe is finishing her drink. She accepts the glass with a flash of a smile for Signe, then narrows her eyes a moment in thought. "It continues," she starts to say, but falls silent at the sight of Franklyn moseying on in. Blood red eyes, because of course a totally-normal-yes-really human would have natural-seeming eyes in that colour, fix on the Garreau with a curious air, long, too-pale digits lifting to wiggle a twinklefingered greeting which could, possibly, double as a summons. Dielle takes the phone with a flashing grin at Signe. "Tony's moved out which means I can walk around naked again, so life is good. Jon is...Jon. He don't change a lot, until he does, y'know?" She looks through the houses, and starts to laugh when she gets to the Juliard family. "Yeah, that's pretty me, alright. Way me." She passes the phone back and beams. "I'm sure you got people can horse-whisper your horses, but if you don't mind, can I come visit 'em, sometimes? Maybe?" Signe gives a brief frown, but she's got Dawn goodwill so she paints on a smile just as quick! "There's a lot going on, so it makes sense." she states. Then there's another person coming in and there's a wave, "What can I get for you this evening, Miss?" she asks her. Apparently Signe is one of the bartenders! Dielle then gets a grin from Signe, "I'm sure Tony wouldn't have minded that." she teases her gently. Franklyn's smile remains but her eyebrows raise -- is she being granted an invitation from the rainbow? Beetle-shell green manicure glints - well, except for that part which is all chipped - as Franky places a hand to her chest in an obvious faux-humble mockery of 'who, me?!', then sliiiides on over in the direction of November, Dielle, and Signe. Only Franky doesn't interrupt Dielle and November's chat of horses and houses yet; she turns to Signe as she speaks, totally frickin' oblivious to all those pesky eye-narrowing subjects like 'dreams' or 'Arcadian threats' -- instead she just laughs, all carefree Mortal girl, hand fluttering through the air as she speaks, "Please may I have a IPA, whatever tastes most like grapefruit," Franky gestures to Dielle and November, "And whatever these two indescribable creatures would like." Finally she turns, looking to Dielle and November, eyebrows raised. "What -do- you want, exactly?" ...That's a drinks order inquiry, right? Franky isn't like, grilling November or anything? Of course not! Look at that smile! Carefree, damnit, /carefree/. November accepts her phone when Dielle returns it to her, blinking once in what appears to be surprise when the other Dawn seems to think a visit would be unwelcome. "You of all people would be welcome in my stable, lovely." See, an advantage to looking human(ish): that statement made by someone with her REAL appearance would have a sliiiightly less innocent connotation. She doesn't collect transformed changelings in her stable, no, of course not. Ahemhem. Tasting her cocktail, the taller rainbow lifts a russet brow in response to Franky's query, then quirks her lips leftward to smoothly reply, "A long life and happiness. Don't you?" Knowing mischief dances slowly in bright eyes as she regards the mortal with a focus just this side of too intent. A hair too long, and a single blink breaks the moment, attention returning to Signe as she slides the phone -her- way. "Which house would -you- be?" Dielle looks as though she was awarded some kind of major award. "Hey, I don't presume. But I'll be by. Sometimes, I miss bein' surrounded by horses. In spite of Jon." She wrinkles her nose at Signe. "I'm sure he would, but it'd be mean. Like puttin' steak in front of a dog and tellin' him he can't have it. Not that he has a bad ass, it's very nice. If you ever want to jump him, you'll have to let me know how it goes." She grins and tips her hat at Franky. "What do I want? A quiet, long, happy life. And lots of good dreams when I sleep and meaningful work when I wake." She does raise her eyebrows at Signe, curious about the house thing. Signe gives a smile to Franklyn and then pulls a bottle out of the fridge with a little flip before uncapping it for her, "There we are." she tells her as she settles it on a square bar coaster. Then there's a look at the phone that's slid her way and she look over the houses, "Probably Llewewyn. I'd be one of those girls that snuck off to the Crusades though." she muses. Then there's a look to Dielle and there's a bit of a blush before she laughs, "Ah, no, maybe if I'd not met Jacob I'd have asked him. But he's a good looking guy and all. Just not going to rile up the beau at home." she admits. "Ooh, long life and happiness, eh?" Franklyn takes in a deeeep breath as she replies to November, and leans on the edge of the bar - idly swoopin' her hair back again, and again. Look at her. So moody -- she may look amused sure; but legitimate or faux, her tone is so morose. "But happiness isn't a /place/ is it? It's very nature is -transitory-..." Oh boy, here we go... Franky laughs quietly, all bittersweet when Dielle adds the bit about dreams and work, nodding in acknowledgement. "If it were that easy, eh? Good work, meaningful dreams..." She must've heard Dielle wrong -- but Franky hears Signe loud and clear, and accepts that bottle with a thumbs-up. "Much appreciated..." Only to look confused, about all those House names and Crusades. "I would -hate- to've been taken off in some Crusade. No St. Ursula for me -- o' beloved, your eyes are like sapphires: but leave me alone! I do not want to be martyred as another virgin for some faux-God's ridiculous cause." Franklyn wrinkles her nose, sticks out her tongue, then sips at that beer. "I've been to worse places." Signe states as she looks off with the thousand yard stare. After a moment she shakes herself out of it. Then there's a look to November and Dielle, "I need to take off. It was good to meet you finally, November and good to see you again, Dielle." she tells her as she turns to head down the bar. "Noah, can you take good care of those ladies please?" she asks before she disappears into the backroom.