((Everyone is now in The Other Side nightclub. You can continue in the group threads as long as you want, or until you find a convenient place to jump into this common thread.))


It was called a confluence... where disparate elements all come together in the same place at the same time. In theory, it could be completely coincidental. In reality, it seldom was. There was almost always some sort of cause-and-effect happening, though it wasn't always discernible.

Grendal was an odd place for it to happen. It had no political significance, it had no location significance, and it didn't have much economic significance. Its sole claim to 'fame' was merely that it was.

So if their was an actual cause for the confluence, it was so obscure that no one could see it. The effect, of course, was that a bunch of people with old connections found them here in the club.

Although the club seemed like an odd locale for that, it had a local cultural significance that acted like a magnet to draw people there.

The question now was what would become of that confluence. Would it last for maybe an evening and then dissipate as everyone went upon their merry way? Or would it gain a touch of permanence by newly discovered common interests?

Quin leans up, swirling her bubbling drink.  Removing herself from those around the bar with a soft Excuse me.

She stood closer to the safety rails overlooking the dance floor, her eyes not as meandering, but her awares always ready.

Vonon's ears twitch as the Human woman quietly excuses herself, and begins to turn away. Vonon immediately turns his attention to the female, almost as soon as she stops speaking.

"Ah! Where are my manners!" Vonon says, "Please forgive my intrusion, Mistress. It was not my intention to disrupt your conversation with my old friend, here. Please, do not let me intrude further. This old Marine and I can always tell each other lies about our war stories later, now that we know we are each here. Right, Ikram?" Vonon gives Ikram a small nudge.

"Anyways, please continue. As you were..." Vonon gestures back and forth, between Ikram and the woman; his body language clearly indicating that he is willing to walk away.

The evening found Sharik in one of the booths off to the side along the walls on the first floor.  Even in the flickering light of the dance floor disco balls, it was obviously her, resplendent in what seemed to be a casual, but undeniably stylish, set of form-fitting leathers.  The bolero-style jacket was unzipped, but the collar was still up and covered the back of her neck.  Her dark brown hair was down and bobbed easily as she moved and spoke.

From the looks of it, Shar had been at The Other Side for a while now, half-eaten appetizer plates and, at least, one empty wine bottle adorned the table top.

The youthful-looking cosmopolitan socialite was having a rather animated discussion with another woman and two men about something.  She gesticulated widely with her hands passing them near each other multiple times as she seemed to be relating a story of some sort.  An off-hand comment and the mischievous smile moments later and the foursome erupted in a bout of laughter before she continued to speak.

She shrugged slightly and then using the salt and pepper shakers on the table, Sharik demonstrated a three-dimensional passing maneuver with them.  Twice.  Once, as it should have been and then again in a less clean manner - literally, for the pepper shaker was knocked over spilling a portion of its contents on the slick surface.  The table erupted with another bout of momentary mirth as the climax was revealed and she explained exactly what had happened in no uncertain terms.

Anyone familiar with the Imperial grav-bike racing scene in the subsector, which her companions did not seem to be, would likely have already heard the story being told; Shar had had middling success on the second-tier racing circuit.  But, her reflexes weren't really all that great - definitely not enough to match her actual training and experience with the equipment.  So, even though she had been good enough to get a tryout and a minor sponsorship and contract, she never even came close to winning a big race and so her prospects (along with any delusions of a true career in it) faded away without fanfare a while ago.

Her story done, there was a lull in the conversation.  One of the young men leaned over towards Sharik, who brushed aside an errant lock of hair and nodded slightly to him, flashing him a smile.  Then they both stood and with a wave and a gesture to the other couple, started to wend their way through the crowd in the general direction of the dance floor.

Over in one part of the bar, an Aslan and two humans are talking "Thank you Kheaiftouaw I am sure we will be needed that position filled. The hard part is going to be figuring out what we need and can afford." Sir Walter said as he scrolled through the listings on his computer.

Count Cromwell looks at the menu, and since he's not really hungry, decides to buy a bottle of fine whiskey and asks for 3 glasses...(Price?)

Quin smoothed her black skirt as she finished her drink, she cared not what happened to the glass, she just left it on a pillar to be grabbed by the waitstaff.

She started to walk to the head, a chance to straighten her self, her shirt, tighten her pony tail.  Started to, but then stopped...

The dance floor, it was not her normal place, she tended to find her enjoyment elsewhere.  But this time, she thought she saw...  was that?  But she was on another planet wasn't she?  Sharik?

She stepped onto the skirt of the dance floor, the are where people simply swayed and waited for a place or song to dance.  She made herself evident to Sharik, smiling.  Maybe she had finally found the contact she had been searching for?

Vonon's jaw dropped open as the Human female silently finished her drink, smoothed her clothing, and walked away.  He blinked his eyes twice, in disbelief, before snapping his mouth closed and turning to Ikram.

"Well. I may have been ignored, but you, my friend..." Vonon pointed a well manicured, dull-clawed finger at Ikram, "...have just been blown off. Heh-heh."

Vonon looks back over his shoulder at the receeding female, then shrugs his shoulders, "Eh, she had that Scout vibe going, anyway; they all have that focussed 'I just want to be alone' stick up their butt. Say! That reminds me of that Scout Commander, at the combat training facility back on Cassandra -- the, uh, red-haired woman, remember? -- she had that fancy rapier, and kept bragging that nobody with a dinky little knife could ever get close enough to touch her with a blade? Heh-heh-heh-heh." Vonon gave his bark-like laugh.

"Remember, you finally challenged her to a fight -- her rapier against your dagger -- and as soon as the Instructor shouted 'begin!' you threw your dagger and nailed her in the chest! Heh-heh! Klono's hairy butt, how we all laughed! Heh-heh. Thank the Stars it was just a dull-edged practice blade. Still, it had to hurt..."

Vonon suddenly looks serious, and glares at Ikram, "I also remember, after she stalked out of the gym, you saying you were going to go appologize, and then I didn't see you again until next Morning Shift. You never did tell me...did you sleep with her?"

Sharik whirled and twisted dancing with her partner for a few more moments after noticing Quinzella at the edge.  She moved in time with the music, and found a cadence which allowed her to break away from the young man without being too conspicuous.  Hands and hips still moving in time with the beat, Shar sidled up along side Quinzella and gave her a wink.  Then the thin brunette gently grabbed the hand of her long-time acquiantance to lead her out onto the floor.

With a skip step and another twirl, Sharik rejoined the boy she had been dancing with.  "Finn!" she shouted over the music, to introduce Quinzella, "This is Susie."  The waifish ingenue recalled that her friend didn't always use her real name; and Shar could respect that.  Plus, it was an old code, a sort of game for the two of them.  Since Sharik had introduced her under a new name, Quinzella could be whomever she wanted to be at this point.  And it also meant that Finn was not necessarily in Sharik's Circle of Trust.  Which meant, that any discussions of serious business might have to wait for a slightly more private venue.

Or, at least until Sharik had finished 'working the room'...

Quin smiled as Sharik began to approach.  But soon she realized she was being ushered to the dance floor, not her favorite place.  The incredulous look she was giving Sharik would only be evident to the other woman.

Then she heard the introductions, inwardly she chuckled.  Her smile could not help but be real.  Though a part of her wanted to roll her eyes at Sharik, this unbelievable event.

Sharik was the obvious better dancer of the two, but 'Susie' certainly gave it her all.  She moved in closer to the man who was apparently Finn and whispered softly into his ear, "Hi."

She had to admit a bit of joy, not being herself.

As she supped her beer, another was brought over to her, unasked for.

When Sam gave the waiter a querying look, he gestured over to a table, where the indicated drink buyer and a man got up to dance.

Sam didn't know her, but she had spotted her in the TAS earlier. Perhaps jut being friendly then. With Sam and every body else, apparently.

As she watched, the girl dragged someone else on to the dance floor. And this was someone she DID recognise. Their paths had crossed a while back.

As she had suspected, the Galaxy was smaller than people thought. Sam watched them dance for a while supping her beer, deciding if she wanted to say hi.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:20, Tue 19 Aug 2014.

With the prospect of a job, either as an engineer on CountDarrellCromwell's ship or in maybe in that advertised orbital factory if this wasn't going to work out Khea let her eyes wander while pondering if she should spend one of her few remaining credits to celebrate, even if it is a bit prematurely. Her gaze was drawn to a nearby table where one of the wolf man she has occasionally seen from afar during her trading days was heartily talking with another humanity.

(Trokh) "Good to know I am not the only one with proper fur living here." she silently said to herself.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:11, Tue 19 Aug 2014.

Ikram shrugged a little as Quintus moved away, turning back to Vonon with a slight smile and moving the basket of bread between them.

"Lieutenant Darnell?" He chimed in as Vonon mentioned the woman. "Oh yeah, that blade had supposedly been in her family for generations, which is why is always seemed a bit big for her I suppose..."

He laughed loudly and gave a series of nods at the story, shaking his head at the memory.

"It was luck that I hit her at all...those practice weapons were so off balance, and I'm fairly sure they weighed a lot more...anyway, I remember thinking that if I missed that she would probably make an example of me...heh. Guess we'll never know"

He licked his lips and looked more than a little amused by the last question, shaking hisbeyes slightly. "No, no...we flirted sure, but I have never been the best with women, I still get nervous, truth be told." He added softly.

"We all dont have your advantages you know" tapping his own nose in reference to Vonons keen scent. "Some of us have to guess...how about yourself?  I figured you'd be running the enforcement branch on Cassandra by now...the way you were making cases. It seemed you missed every other class because of having to testify...or having to attend some awards ceremony"

Hmph. Not much to reply to in my absence...


There's nothing wrong with the local whiskey, but the planet's limited resources really don't produce anything of superior quality, so the attendant brings Darrel a bottle of Aldebaran Crown Royal Black Label, a 30-year old single malt Scotch... for Cr500.

"Would you please excuse me for a moment?"

Khea stands up and walks towards an table with a lone female (Samantha), taking some deep breaths on the way.

"Excuse me, you do smell familiar to me. Could it be that some years ago we both had an encounter with the same pirate near the Hierate border?"

"Heh-heh." Vonon chuckled, as he stepped away to recover his drink, then returned, "Well, as to that -- I'll have you know that you are now speaking with Commander Vonon Ronkunu, CO of the 3rd Tactical Space Fighter Squadron, 'The Redline Rockets', of the Cassandra Belt Space Patrol. Retired, thank you very much."

Vonon paused to sip from his drink.

"Feh!" he said, putting his glass down just a little hard, "I should never have accepted the assignment. I belong in a cruiser, patrolling the belt. This fighter squadron commander crap got me assigned to Rockport -- that's our capital community, if you recall. There I spent more time attending military briefings and keeping up the expected social life of a Patrolman of my rank. Parties and dinners and informal chats at the tennis club! Gah!"

"I could only stomach it for a single term, then I cashiered out. I was born a rockhound, and a rockhound I wanted to be...but I had spent to many years on the move, living in ships.  And, after years and years of watching you Imperial types wander through Cassandra Belt on your ways all over the galaxy, I wanted to do some travelling."

Vonon drained what was left of his drink, "I have it in my head to try my hand at being a Space Trader; a ship and a crew, travelling wherever and doing whatever to keep on flying."

Vonon signaled the bartender for another drink, "But not tonight! Tonight I stand on a planet where the gravity is real and not generated by the floor under my feet. where the air is free and not taxed. Where the sky isn't a crystal-ceramic dome and I'm surrounded by an entire ocean of liquid, not frozen, water! Here's to water!"

Vonon downed a sizable gulp of his new drink, then threw back his head and howled.

In reply to Kheaiftouaw (msg # 15):

Sam had been staring across at the dance floor, and hadn't noted the female Aslan approach. Which given her size was some trick. She chided herself slightly - Security Officers should never really be off duty - even when unemployed.

Turning to the Aslan, Sam smiled "Yes I think we did." Obviously, Sam was talking while she tried to remember the Aslans name. "That was a little while ago now though. I hope you've had no further bother in that regard since?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:59, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

Walter looked up from his computer and turned it towards the Count,
_____________________________________________________________________

                              FOR SALE CHEAP!

        DELTA 100-Tonne Courier-class starship with Zyrix hull design.
                         Excellent condition.  Willing to deal.
                  Contact Karma Verchata, Starport District, X970-Z567.
_____________________________________________________________________

                            Pre-Owned Starships:

Elegant-Class Yacht Light Fantastic
Aggressor-Class Corsair Eternal Knight
Animal-Class Safari Ship Jaguar
Devastator-Class Heavy Assault Ship Night Thunder

Visit us for a hands-on guided tour of these classic ageless beauties!
                       Starrider Pre-Owned Starships
                             Docking Bay 11-15
                                Beowulf Down
____________________________________________________________________

                       F O R   S A L E

Modified Type A2 Far Trader Last Chance; 20 years old.
Assume payments; pay just MCr5.5.
Good condition; full software, weapons, extras.

Box 693, TAS
____________________________________________________________________

"Well, there are a few options for jump capable craft. The Courier is too small and a Heavy Assault ship might way way too intimidating to the point that if pirates were to attack it, they would bring far superior firepower to bear.  A corsair has plenty of space to the point it could carry a courier with room to spare but might be out of our budget unless others go in on it. The Far trader might suit our needs and would have the space and range to make some money in the process." he said pointing out the craft along with strengths/weaknesses




OOC:Devastator-Class Heavy Assault Ship?

Devastator-class Heavy Assault Ship is a deck plan I downloaded from the internet and modified, and worked up Traveller stats for it. There is an upper deck floor plan under Map 0.

An attractive woman with blue hair enters the club and starts moving around to the various people there. She chats with them for a moment, then moves on to the next. By the time she reaches you, it's clear that she's been handing out a business card. When she gets to each one of you, she smiles, introduces herself, asks how you are doing, and then hands you her business card.

"Hello. I'm Ceruleanne. How are you? My company is always looking for talented people, in case you are interested."

________________________________________

        ACQUISITIONS and RECOVERIES
                    AcquireCorp LLC
             5000 Dragon Boulevard
                 Beowulf T292-Z114

                             Ceruleanne Blue
                             VP of Talent
                             5050-2250
                             cerulean@grendal-com
________________________________________


Turning the card over, you see that '8pm back room' has been hand written on it.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:28, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

OOC:Stats?

In reply to Ceruleanne Blue (msg # 20):

Count Cromwell pays for the whiskey and takes an appreciative sip.OOC: Deducted 500Cr

At the arrival of Ceruleanne Blue, and looking at the back of the card, he introduces himself and Walter... "Miss Blue, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, would you care to join us for a drink? My friend and I were just discussing the pros and cons of various ships."

The Count points out the ships listed and asks, "Myself, I'm fond of the corsair, plus it has an appropriate name "Eternal Knight"...but, it's a bit pricey perhaps...If I were in the ACQUISITIONS and RECOVERIES business, I think the corsair would come in handy don't you think?"

Leaning back and enjoying his Scotch, Count Cromwell ponders...

Darrel can get the statistics of the Devastator when it was built new.

Walter cocked an eyebrow as the woman approached and watched the transaction. Not one for passing up a free drink, let alone an expensive one to boot, he was happy to take a sip of the whiskey. "I like the cargo space on the corsair and it would be a tougher target for any pirates. They would think twice before attacking. getting enough gunners might be a problem. We might see about going into a partnership with some others in order to acquire it..." he said.

"As to acquisitions and recoveries, while I would like to keep an open mind but most of those on the other end tend to want to stay out of sight or shoot first. The only ones that make money are the owners of the company, not the ones doing the work. That is my experience I have seen on recovered vessels. The lowest ranked member of a prize crew on a navy vessel gets a far better share than a civilian."

OOC: Does she stay at the table or leaves?

"Thank you for the offer, Count," Ceruleanne replies, "but I'm working. Perhaps another time."

"Any ship could be useful under the right circumstances, but those circumstances are few and far between, and maintaining a ship for that rare occasion simply isn't cost effective."

"See you later maybe."

As she's getting ready to leave, "I wonder how much the recovery fee would be for the Iridium Throne?"

Khea takes the business card silently while watching the woman making her rounds through the club. When she stops to talk with Darrel, Khea turns back to Samantha.

"Thank you for your concern, but no the rest of my travels were mostly peaceful. But I also try to stay away from offers such as this."

PM

At a light touch on his shoulder, Vonon ceases his howling, and turns to see who wants his attention.

"Hello. I'm Ceruleanne." says a Human female with bright blue hair, handing both Vonon and Ikram a business card "How are you? My company is always looking for talented people, in case you are interested."

The woman smiles again, then wanders off to the next person. Reading the card, then turning the card over, Vonon sees that '8pm back room' has been hand written on it. Glancing over, he notes that Ikram's card has the same message written upon it.

"I don't know, my friend." Vonon says, waving the card slightly, "While I'm a little interested in the offer ... if she's handing these out to everyone in the club, that is going to be one over-stuffed back room. What do you think?"

"I mean, I'm not exactly strapped for cash, yet, but a little more is always welcome. And maybe make a new business contact, maybe."

Ikram listens intently to what Vonon has been up to, nodding now and then.

"Commander? Well...it seems you have been busy..."

Taking the card he looks it over and nods to the Vargr's sentiments.

"Might be worth hearing them out at the least...I'm in no rush to get off world. Want to head over with me? Might save you a reference call" he adds with a slight smile as he finished off the bread.

"Sure, I got your Six." Vonon said, picking up his drink, "But we have time, yet. Why don't you fill me in on what you've been doing since we last met, while I finish my drink. I remember you said you'd been born on a desert world ... obviously." Vonon gestures at Ikram's robes.

"But when we met you were in the Imperial Marines, and a young officer, at that."

As an old dance song came on, Count Cromwell recalls a small bit he had done at a far off USO show many years ago, dancing girls, lonely men...bad whiskey....there's always a bit of melodrama, and looking out into the crowd of servicemen/women....

Although the uniform is gone, the weary-eyed look of combat, the disheveled attempt at stability...

A face, one of many in a crowd of thousands, no it's not possible...

The Count sees an older man. aged by the years, as he remembers him when he was younger...

He calls over the closest waitress, and gives her the following instructions, pointing out Ikram..."Tell that man, Count Cromwell would like to buy him a drink, and his howling hairy friend."

Walter looks around at the bar and the various species. "It looks like we are running into others here, almost like ghosts of our past. I for one do not plan on being stuck on one place any time soon. While they gave me the title but no land, making money by trade (along with making other nobles rich in the process) and I hope to get things started once again. I have meet a friend Kheaiftouaw and you here and it looks like there are others in this same bar, why not lets see if we can gather our old friends, move to a larger room and discuss our future without further interruption?" he asked the Count
This message was last edited by the player at 01:25, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Showing the backside of her card to Walter, tapping the card given to him, "Well, if you have the same message, Ceruleanne is somewhat indiscreet... It would be interesting to see who goes to the back room..."

OOC: If there is a signal for SOC14+ to get attention in this bar, I use it, security wise.

"I was thinking more along the lines of us getting our own private room in order to talk in peace and quiet. While I am sure she has a good offer, I have always found that the guy owning the shipping company makes the money and not the guy loading the cargo." Walter said

Sam accepted the business card, looking it over briefly. When she saw the time on the back, she checked her watch and then pocketed it before returning to her conversation.

"Glad to hear it. So what brings you here?"

Khea roars quietly which might be a laugh
"Looking for territory.

I want to see the worlds outside the Hierate, maybe even visit the Imperium clan, and find a nice place to settle down"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:55, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Sam didn't seem phased by the slight roar.

"So your ready to settle down then, Khea" finally, she had remembered the name
"But your looking to do that - from a nightclub?" She smiles, and sips her beer

"This isn't the sort of place people who are settling down usually come to. Are you sure that card doesn't interest a part of you? I'm at a loose end, so will see what they have to say at least.

Sharik was slightly winded as the latest song ends.  Or at least it appeared that way, a couple of small beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead as the thin brunette made an exaggerated show of blowing a lock of hair from her face.  A slightly thoughtful, slightly mischievous expression played on her narrow Vilani cheekbones and lips (a gift from her mother incidentally).

She glanced at Quinzella and then back to their dance partner.  "Gotta freshen up!" Shar chirped happily, grabbing the hand of her long-time friend, "C'mon, Sue!"  Sometimes it was good to play into the old stereotypes.  At least, it was very convenient.  Sharik had noticed a blue haired woman making the rounds; it seemed more business than pleasure from her demeanor.  And she knew about pleasure; Shar took her recreation very seriously.

She pushed into the sea of (primarily) humaniti that was just off the dance floor.  Wending her way, hopefully with her fingers still entwined with Quinzella, Sharik dodge a couple of errant elbows and started towards the line in the back of the main room - which only incidentally, of course, happened to be the direction that Ms. Blue was circulating.

Shar came up short, as she nearly collided with a vargr and a human talking.  She did a double take.  "Vo?!?" she exclaimed with only a touch of incredulity creeping in her light contralto; she let out an idiomatic, though reasonably polite, vargr expletive - even properly trilling the 'R's correctly.  It may have been a while since they last saw each other in person - a fair distance from here, as well; but, stranger things had happened to the wayward dilettante.  And she wasn't about to overlook the wondrous kismet of meeting two good friends seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Still, true to form, Sharik didn't miss a beat.  She gave Vonon's partner a quick once over with her eyes, then turned her gaze back to the vargr spacer.  "
Well," she prompted him with a raised eyebrow, "aren't you going to introduce us?"  But then she didn't really wait for his response.  "Shana." the dirty brunette noted simply in an off-hand manner as a sort of introduction. "Shana Mepede."  She gave her familiar or informal name, which she knew that Vonon and Quinzella would recognize, appending it with the Vilani professional moniker for 'explorer'.  Shar extended a hand towards Ikram; it was slightly pronated, giving him the chance to either shake it or, if he was feeling particularly gallant, kiss the minor noble's hand.

Then pulling Quinzella in closer, she gave her two new male companions a self-deprecating smile.  "And where are my manners?" Sharik quipped playfully, she gestured towards her fellow detached duty scout ready to introduce her.  Assuming that Q didn't want to do so herself...

Quin was actually enjoying herself, which was not normal at any social interaction.  Maybe it was being near the fun loving Sharik again, maybe it was just that she was so deep into her persona.

She plastered on a larger than life flirty smile, for all to see, as the music broke.  When Sharik grabbed her hand, a part of the smile became real, maybe this would lead to a chance to talk, plan their attack and all.

Her eyes caught the attractive blue haired woman, business?  The thought intrigued her, she had to admit.  The pair of women wove through the crowd, herself being more or less towed, but happily so.

She smiled at the two men as they approached, her chuckle pretty audible to Sharik, "I was speaking with them before I saw you."

Her inward smile at tha actions of her friend soaked through her voice, "I am sorry gentlemen, did I forget to introduce myself?"

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 40):

When Samantha mentions the card again, Khea unconsciously flips it around her hand a few times.

"I have no intention to settle down here. First I want to see the Humaniti worlds farther away from the Hierate.
But you can only get so many passages with a Shipmaster's salary"

Khea stops for a moment and looks at the card in her hand.

"Maybe I will follow this invitation, but a high ranking manager giving out cards to random people in a bar does not seem all that honorable to me"

In reply to Kheaiftouaw (msg # 43):

Sam nods

"Agreed, it is a bit of a haphazard way to find suitable staff, but we've nothing to loose, except some time, and I've plenty of that to spare at the moment. Apart from the card, have you heard of any work?"

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 44):

"Oh yes, there is plenty of time. I am still not used to your short 24 hour days."

As he and Ikram continued their conversation at the bar, the sound of a light contralto voice -- the kind of vocal tonalities that Vonon usually only heard from Human females -- spoke just loud enough to be heard abouve the general din.

"Vo?!?" the somehow familiar voice exclaimed with only a touch of incredulity, followed by an amusing idiomatic expletive in Vargr. And a well pronounced expletive, at that.

Vonon turned around and immediately saw the human female that Ikram had been speaking with, earlier. But, beside her was another Human female who looked very familiar.

To the Human eye, Vonon's next action -- dipping his head down a little, then pulling back as he raised his muzzle -- might have been mistaken as a shocked pulling away; but he was really taking a full breath, getting the Human's scent to all his sinuses, so that he could compare it to his scent-memory. And although it had been some years since they had last met and she had changed her appearance since her last vmail, a Vargr never forgets a scent. Especially not the scent of a friend.

But before Vonon could respond to his old friend Sharik, she had already given Ikram the once-over, and continued talking,

"Well," she prompted Vonon with a raised eyebrow, "aren't you going to introduce us?"

But then she didn't really wait for a response from Vonon, she turned to Ikram, herself, and spoke.

"Shana." the dirty-brunette haired woman noted simply in an off-hand manner as a sort of introduction. "Shana Mepede." She gave her familiar or informal name, appending it with some Vilani word that sounded familiar to Vonon, but he couldn't remember what it meant.

Sharik extended a hand towards Ikram; Vonon knew that she expected Ikram to kiss her hand, and that this was a little test she used to get the gauge of some people. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out...

"And where are my manners?" Sharik quipped playfully, pulling the other woman in closer with her free hand.

"I was speaking with them before I saw you." the other woman said to Sharik with a chuckle in her voice, then she turned her attention to Vonon and Ikram, "I am sorry gentlemen, did I forget to introduce myself?"

Vonon saw his opportunity to jump into the conversation and, assuming a stern pose, glared at Sharik.

"Being sorry I am, terribly, terribly, gentle-haroo." Vonon said in broken pidgin and adressing them as males, "But mistaken you are being. Use of yours the familial pronoun conjunctive, when crappily speaking Vargr, you did, named me your sister, you have. Perhaps, maybe, of feathered ornithope, in corner, scratching itself, you were thinking?"

Vonon held the glare for exactly three heartbeats, before he burst into laughter.

"Shar'r!!" Vonon shouted joyfully, using the Vargr nick-name he'd given her, years ago, as he opened his arms to his old friend, "What in Klono's Frozen Beard are you doing on this cosmic ball of backwater? Are you slumming, again?" he jokingly reproached.

In reply to Kheaiftouaw (msg # 45):

Sam chcuckled at this as her eyes swept around the room again.

"Met anyone else you know tonite? I think I recognised one person, but am not sure yet."

Sharik raised an eyebrow at the broken Galanglic outburst by the vargr.  Then she smiled broadly as and met his embrace with her own firm hug, noted as her mouth passed near his ear, "Good to see you, old friend."  The two words were actually in Gvegh.

Then, holding him at arm's length for a moment, the dark-haired dilettante gestured to herself with a flourish, her tailored leather bodysuit and short-cut bolero jacket fully presented.  "Hardly slumming." she noted with a mischievous smile, then added for emphasis, "Commander."  Sharik couldn't suppress the playful chuckle that followed.

"I didn't expect to see you here this far from Cassandra." she noted a touch more seriously, "Why didn't you tell me you were going a-travelling?"  The implication was obvious, she would have tried to link up with him sooner.

Shar looked towards Quinzella, waggled a finger at the woman while chiding her, "Why didn't you tell me that you knew, Vonon?"

But then her mood switched back to playful, "As for why I am here?"  Another, slightly more self-deprecating shrug, before she continued, "It's where the latest working passage dropped me.  I came through the Carrillian Assembly, which was ... interesting."  She glossed over having been in the Assembly in the past under far different circumstances.  "And got here via Yarhfahl, which was dull, dull, dull." Sharik added rather nonchalantly.

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 47):

It is strange that you ask that.
I have indeed met another trader I knew from my times as an engineer. And he in turn met one of his old time acquaintances

Khea turns around and points to the table of Walter and Darrel with her thumb

All here in this bar on this planet. A strange coincindence.

Quin smiled at the the two men, "Sorry I just left earlier, you both seemed rather pleased to talk amongst yourselves and hanging out with her."  She gave Shrik a light squeeze around the waist, "Has always been one of the few things in my life to make me smile."

She heard Sharik's question and looked over rather incredulously, "I hardly know him, I just met him, and I never got his name.  All I knew was he was drinking wine, red, if I recall."

She chuckled to herself, with no work to distract her, this was a good place to be.

Khea turns back to Samantha
"If it is your wish you might join our table"

Almost apologetic she adds "As SirWalter old aquaintaces freely share his table without asking for permission he likely won't object if one of mine also joins."

Count Cromwell welcomes the newcomers, with a hail and well met greeting...calls over more glasses and another bottle of Aldebaran Crown Royal Black Label, a 30-year old single malt Scotch... for Cr500.

"A toast to old friends and new, may our friendships warm our lives and bring joy and happiness, I wish all the best to each of you and may the fates protect you."

OOC: Not being a snob, but, I'm thinking everyone here knows me or at least has heard of me...of course, I could be full of shat...or for me, even better...they love me....
This message was last edited by the player at 18:59, Sun 24 Aug 2014.

"That's former Commander to you -- Able Spacehand!" Vonon quipped back, "And I did try to inform you about my leaving the Patrol. As we speak, there is a vmail wandering the universe, trying to catch up to you. Why didn't you tell me you'd be so close to Cassandra?"

Vonon turned to the woman beside Sharik and paused a moment to look the Human woman over, noting a few subtle details.

"I'm Vonon, actually; drinking what our fancy friend, here, says that Terrans call a Rum and Coal. He's drinking red wine." Vonon says, pointing at Ikram, "But we only call him that behind his back."

Vonon drew himself up into a more formal stance, even bringing the silver buckles round the tops of his boots together with an audible click (i.e., clicking his bootheels together, a rather impressive feat, for a species that doesn't have heels).

"Please, allow me to make introductions, Scout-Pilot." he says, placing his right hand over the center of his chest and making a slight bow, "I am Vonon Ronkunu, formerly with the Space Patrol of Cassandra Belt. Do not let the robes of my wine-drinking friend, here, fool you; this is Ikram Fahreed, former Captain with the Twenty-Second Imperial Marines. It seems we were both engaged in Post-Discharge travel, when we quite unintentionally, ran into each other, here, after a span of a few years."

Vonon's slightly triangular-shaped ears perk-up and seem to focus on Sharik's companion.

"And you are, Scout-Pilot?"

Quin shifted oddly, it was not often she met...well anyone, without having a cover in place.  It was rare for her to be without work for long, her skills were pretty spread out, but that was why she was so liked to be in such high service.  Heck, this Vonon might have been a previous contact or customer, she doubted it though it was possible.

She offered her upside down hand to the 'man' (Vonon), "Yes, I am in fact, quite a stellar one too.  Though when on planet I prefer to use a Grav bike, or something that has an open cockpit and does not touch the ground."  She chuckled.

Turning to Sharik, "I could use to whet my beak, do you want anything?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:20, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

So there are two groups now. And the two groups haven't gotten together yet, right?

Group One: Darrel, Walter, Khea and Samantha.

Group Two: Sharik, Quinzella, Vonon and Ikram.

In case you don't remember, Darrel knows Ikram, and Quinzella knows Samantha (and vice versa).


If you still want to get a private room, that's possible. It'd be a good place for a 'reunion' party! If you'd like a separate thread for that, just let me know. Otherwise, it's about 2 hours before the meeting. We can just fast forward to then.

In reply to Kheaiftouaw (msg # 51):

Sam nods at Khea - "Yeah I'll join your table group, at least until this meeting later"

As she wanders over she checks them out.

The flashy guy seems a bit full of himself, but also vaguely familiar.

The other guy seems more business like, but not familiar at all.

She follows Khea and waits to be introduced - happy to listen from the periphery

Khea stands next to Samantha with a little bit of space between them so that Darrel and Walter can get a good look at her.

"May I have your attention? I present you SamanthaKilgore. She aided my crew when our ship was boarded by pirates during our travels back to the Hierate"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:47, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

Walter stood up and pulled out chairs for the ladies. "Please to meet your acquaintance. This is Count Cromwell, and I am Sir Walter Zeller." he said with a bow before seating them.

Vonon took the scouts hand and bent his head over it, just like he's seen proper Imperials do...in all those videos.

"And, I note, as loquacious as most scouts, as well." Vonon said, retaining her hand, "As you have yet to share your name."

Sharik couldn't suppress the smirk on her face when Vonon called Quinzella out for not actually giving a name.  It always amazed her that her friend could be so secretive sometimes.  She turned her head slightly to regard the other woman more fully, her eyebrow raised a touch.  What name did she intend to give Vonon and his friend, Captain Ikram Fahreed?

Given the pause, she tried to size up Ikram a bit more.  The man was solidly built, much more so than her own rather wispy-build.

"It is quite a coincidence that the two of you have reunited here." the brown-haired dilettante noted rather idly, leaning in towards Ikram, "Much like we..." and she gestured to encompass herself and Quinzella and then herself and Vonon, "have done so.  Doesn't that strike you as a weird sort of serendipitous kismet?"  It must mean something she thought to herself.

Shar had spoken loud enough, actually, to include both Vonon and Quinzella in her musings.  She paused thoughtfully for a moment.  Just what if?  "Do you," the waifish-looking ex-scout, ex-squid, all-dilettante brunette prompted her gathered companions, "recognize anyone else in this establishment?  I mean, it can't be just us, right?"

Sam smiled at Walter as she accepted the offered seat and sat down

"Sir, Count" she said, nodding to Walter and the Count in turn

Internally she though "Nobles, great"

Military rank she got, nobility not really. It seemed as often as not that the Noble would be stuck up and full of themselves, expecting everyone else to defer to them because of a name, not because of what they had earned. Still, that had applied to more than a handful of officers she had served with, so she'd give these guys the benefit of the doubt.

"Pleased to meet you. So how do you know Khea?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 16:24, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

In reply to Sharik Kaagira (msg # 60):

Quin looked at Sharik as if to ask a question, Were these 'people' part of the fun too?  A new name perhaps.

She cleared her throat, luckily Sharik had come to the rescue to quickly change the subject, "Um, yes, I think I recognized a woman earlier."  She began to crane her neck, peering around the room, "Now where did she go?"

"A few years ago, the two of us were stuck in a port due to a solar storm when we were there on different trade missions." Walter said. "We had been there long enough to learn each others languages. First with the help of a translator and then practicing with each other. We got good enough to start a conversation in one language and finish it in the other." he added

Vonon's ears momentarilly flattened back, "Ah. I see." he said with a lack of inflection; releasing the woman's hand as his ears returned to their proper, upright position, and he straightened up.

Every alarm in his head was going off; after all, he'd made a twenty year career out of ... meeting ... people who were evasive about their identity.

And so what? That wasn't his job anymore. He needed to learn more tollerance. And the woman seemed to be a friend of Shar'r, and he trusted her.

So just how bad could this Scout-Pilot be?

Vonon shook himself, physically, and glaced around the club, in response to Shar'rs request.

"No, I do not see anyone else I know." Vonon said, then raised his muzzle a little bit and took a deep inhalation.

"Nope. Nobody here but you two -- excuse me -- you three, are familiar to me. But I have to admit, the pheromone levels in this club have been rising for the last thirty minutes, and I'm not even sure I'd be able to scent any of you from more than fifteen meters, anymore."

Sam turned to Walter as he spoke, and listened

She laughed lightly as he finished "Must have been one hell of a storm, or are you two just very good at languages?"

Sharik gave Quinzella slight tilt of the head and a rather crooked smile.  She has used enough of her real name; her familiar or personal name to Ikram.  And Vonon was apparently an old friend, one that knew her real name (or enough of it) to mean that he was familiar enough.  In fact, her cadence and attitude towards him seemed to say that the vargr was in her Circle of Trust.

Of course, Quin was free to give any name she liked.  It was her chance to do what she liked with her two new acquaintances.  Despite having changed the subject, Shar's raised eyebrow did signal to the her fellow scout that she should likely give the boys some sort of name.  It would be the right thing, the polite thing to do.

Still, she gave Quinzella the benefit of the doubt.  "What does the woman look like?" the raven-haired dilettante prompted her.  Shar didn't bother looking around until she had a better description of what she might be looking for.

Instead, the thin brunette leaned in towards Vonon, chuckling lightly at his nasal problems, "I can only imagine, old friend.  It's turning into a bit of a meat market here..."  Apparently, the concierge that had pointed her to this establishment had misconstrued her intentions.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Thu 28 Aug 2014.

In reply to Sharik Kaagira (msg # 66):

"Well, I did ask for the location of the best night club in the city." Vonon quietly responded to Shar'r, "And as this is also the planetary capitol and the largest city, one could imply that this, then, is the best night club on the planet. I would expect high order clientele in such a location."

"I mean ... we're here ..."

In reply to Sharik Kaagira (msg # 66):

Quin looked at Vonon, "Sorry about my contribution."  She blushed as she turned back to Sharik, "A pretty average human woman, if I was right that I saw her, she is a brunette, green pools for eyes.  And often less armed than me."

She waved to a nearby server hoping for another drink, her mood was souring now that she no longer felt like a secret, or working.

Khea sits down on her seat.

"It was quite a storm. Many ships in the system at that time had to go to the yard to check and repair the electronics. And foreigners were served last."
We also weren't allowed to leave the starport so there was not much to do. I also already learned a bit Anglic on my home planet so I was able to learn the rest while we waited"

This message was last edited by the player at 18:37, Thu 28 Aug 2014.

"Quite true." Walter said "I learned a few of the Aslan games during the wait, but was never a good as you." he said looking at Kheaiftouaw

Having gotten attention from the staff to ready a private room, close to the "back room", Count Darrell gets up and motions for everyone at the table to follow him...

"Our discussion would best be handled without this noise and distraction, go get your friends (pointing to the others known within our group), and meet us there. There's business to discuss."

Sharik chuckled lightly and opened her hands in a mock surrender to her vargr friend's logic.  "Touché." she intoned playfully, simply adding, "but that still doesn't absolve that concierge at the Travellers' Aid Society."  She cast about a bit, noticing that Quin was trying to flag down one of the waiters, as she did so, she asked Vonon, "So, where are you staying?"

She motioned to one of the waitstaff to approach faster, ordered a blue Sylean brandy for herself and looked around to the others - especially Quinzella, who had previously spoken of needing a drink, "Anyone else want anything?"  She tossed a cred stick in the direction of their server.

The thin, raven-haired dilettante raised an eyebrow at Quin's fairly generic description of her other acquaintance.  "You could be describing me, hon." she noted with a slightly affected colonial drawl and a barely stifled laugh, "And a quarter of the rest of the room potentially.  I can get some green contacts pretty easily..."  She prompted her friend for more detail, "Thin?  Stocky?  Long hair?  Short?"  Then Shar rubbed her chin for a moment, looking thoughtful, before she asked slyly, "Did you dance with her?  Is she a good dancer?  What's her name?"  Inquiring minds wanted to know.  Well, and potentially spread unfounded rumors...

In reply to Sharik Kaagira (msg # 72):

"I was born and raised in an asteroid colony, m'dear." Vonon answered, adopting a snooty pose, "My needs are minimal; a three-meter cube, a soft rack, a multi-media comm-station and a corner to stack all my trunks. Oh, and a private fresher, of course."

Vonon dropped his muzzle down from the clouds, and gave a Vargr grin; showing very little teeth.

"In otherwords, I'm staying at the generic Spacers Rest hotel. Coming to Grendal was an impulse. I was at Outpost, looking to maybe buy a ship from their mothball yard, when I got the sudden impulse to visit a true waterworld. Grendal was simply the nearest."

As the Barone got up and started ordering people about, Sam sighed mentally inwardly. So far he was conforming to her stereotype of Nobles.

He might have business to discuss - but Sam wasn't sure it included her - as so far they had just been swapping pleasantries.

Still he looked loaded, and Sam wasn't, so she somewhat resignedly decided to tag along and see if it might earn her anything.

Besides it was still bugging her why he was familiar looking - and she might find out.

Smiling at Khea she muttered to herself, inaudibly under the clubs noise "Certainly your highness-ness"

"Yes your Excellency." Walter said as he picked up his computer, following the Count to the other room.

As the Count heads towards the private room, he stops to look at the card given to another patron (OOC: not part of the group), does it have any writing on the back?

Then he enters the private room.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:54, Fri 29 Aug 2014.

As everyone was leaving for the private room Khea also stands up and follows them.

Quin laughed and smiled at Sharik, "Except the hair color you are right.  But how often have you known me to be verbally descriptive except when reporting?"

She craned her neck more and peered around, spotting Samantha near a separate room, "There going through some door."

She relaxed and removed the smile from her face.

The card that Darrel looks at is laying facedown on the table, so he can see that it doesn't have any writing on the back. While the person it was given to looks to be a reasonably competent fellow, he already seems to have had a few drinks too many, so he probably isn't interested in the opportunity anyway.

This message was deleted by the player at 00:28, Sun 31 Aug 2014.

In reply to Quinzella (msg # 78):

Vonon leans back against the bar, crosses his arms across his chest, then reaches up with his right paw to pensively scratch under his muzzle, as he studies the unknown human woman.

After a few moments, he lowers his hand and slo-o-owly turns his head towards Sharik -- not moving his gaze from the other woman to Shar'r until the last moment.

His gaze now locked on Sharik, Vonon cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows in a near-human expression of puzzlement.

He'd never been much at conversation, certainly not small-talk, so he found the current situation a bit uncomfortable.

He really didn't know what he was doing here... on Grendal, certainly in this nightclub. Well, maybe. He'd caught a glimpse of someone he thought he knew entering the club, though it had been years since he'd seen the Count. He'd since learned the Count had been an actor, so he'd watched a few vids. He couldn't help wonder what had brought the Count to Grendal either.

He barely caught Quinzella's comment as she indicated someone she knew... who was walking with the Count towards one of the back rooms.

Although the Marines had taught him how to plan, his nature still tended to be more spontaneous. Without that military structure around him, his instincts took over.

"And I know the Count that she's with!" he said, jumping up. "Let's go see what they're up to! We've got an hour yet before this meeting." He held up the business card he'd been given by the blue-haired woman.

He started heading in the direction that the Count had gone, only to be stopped by a security person.

"I know the Count," he explained to the security person. "He'll want to see me."

It sounded good; it sounded reasonable. But was it true? Would his old acquaintaince be interested in seeing an ex-Marine?

As Ikram suddenly came alive and charged forward -- in a completely oblique direction, as usual -- Vonon just rolled his eyes and threw his hands upwards in resignation.

"He's always been like this, quiet for hours at a time, then suddenly a ball of frenetic energy. For as long as I've known him." Vonon explains to the ladies, "I blame his upbringing; leaving a little pink primate out under the desert sun can't be good for the brains."

Vonon nudges Sharik in the shoulder, as Ikram starts after this 'Count' of his, he's almost bouncing in place, "In fact, Shar'r, he kinda reminded me of you; always impulsive, quick-tempered, distracted by shiney things...hurr-hurr-hurr."

Vonon's growling chuckle ended suddenly as a rather large individual suddenly manifested out of the crowd in front of Ikram.

"Alert stations, Ladies! Unfriendlies on the scope. Let's bounce."

Vonon straightened up from leaning on the bar and walked over to Ikram in an unhurried manner. He knew Shar'r had his six; he assumed the other woman had hers, but really neither knew, nor cared enough to check.

Vonon walked up behind Ikram just in time to overhear his nomadic friend say, "I know the Count, he'll want to see me."

Sharik craned her own neck slightly to try and catch a glimpse of the woman that Quinzella had been pointing out.  "Really?!?" she asked with more than a hint of incredulity creeping into her dulcet timbre.  The thin dilettante added with a touch of playfulness, "I think that I know her preferred lager..."  There was a pause of perhaps a heartbeat, then she added rather nonchalantly, if much more seriously, "Interesting.  I think that I have seen that woman.  At the TAS accommodations earlier today."  For it was more than coincidental, it seemed to Shar that this woman kept popping up.

Then Ikram burst into action.  She glanced at Vonon, since of course, the ex-Marine was his contact and not hers.  Sharik couldn't help but admire the man's bravado.  It must be the Imperial Corps training, she mused mentally to herself, quite taken with his style.  The thin fingers on an open palm were held out, a gesture for Vonon to lead on.  "Time is a-wasting, apparently..." she noted with slight chuckle watching the quickly receding back of the Imperial Marine disappear into the crowd.

She couldn't help but notice one of the men that she was walking with.  He was very handsome.  And something about him was vaguely familiar.  More than vaguely familiar. she decided.  Or rather the intelligent personal assistant program on her sleek dataglove computer had decided that it seemed.  Since it was linked to her datashades and her personal communicator, the local public subnet was easy to scour.  But, more importantly (at least for someone like Sharik), it had an up-to-date gossip chain Who's Who database at its disposal.  And the man's face, the Count Darrel Cromwell, was all over it the subsector feeds; the price of celebrity is seemed.

She licked her lips slightly.  It was quite possible that they had met previously at on of her parties.  Though that would have been almost a decade ago.

With her vargr guide's ample warning, weaving through the crowd was straight-forward.  Hot on the heels of her furry friend, Sharik multi-tasked in the fast moving people train, trying to get her PDA to pull as much public data on Count Cromwell, while watching Vonon's six, assuming Quin was on her six, and keeping her eyes peeled for anything else unusual all while dodging traffic.  It was almost as much fun as grav cycle racing through chicanes.

She almost bumped into Vonon as he abruptly stopped when Ikram did.  But, Sharik was lucky to catch herself just in time (pretty much, it was only a tiny bump).  She ran her right hand through her hair, while pushing her shades up onto the crown of her head.  Following hot on the heels of Ikram's request, Sharik noted clearly with her chin held high, "Dame Kaagira-Mepede, and entourage, to call upon his Lordship, the Count Cromwell."  She brushed an invisible speck of dirt from her smart leathers, a show of mock impatience.  Then the dilettante with the dirty brown hair gave a slightly mischievous smile to Vonon and gently pushed him forward as Ikram was lead in, and as though entry was a foregone conclusion...

Quin frowned as everyone was leaving, "What meet...?"  She was soon nearly alone (sorry too many players at times for my 2400 mind to track who is near).

She swirled her drink, keeping a close eye on those that went off without her, watching if she was needed.  Seeing lack of any outward motivation, except to follow her friends that seemed to be having fun without her, she stayed at the bar.  She had plans to search the net, look for jobs, and finish her drink.

Quin sat at the bar, she was reaching for her pocket book to pay for the finished drink.  Having been told her first was free.  She felt the soft buzz of a text message.

She softly smiled, she had hoped for that, but was rather unwilling to admit it, and took a look.  It was her friend Sharik, her smile was a little more obvious now.  She fired back, **You and those two men quite ran off to a private room.  I saw the door close and a bouncer outside, I am still at the bar if you need me.  May I inquire as to the goings on of this private party?**

She then looked over the bar, "What do I owe barkeep?"

"Put it on my tab," a voice behind Quinzella says. She turns to see that it is the person who gave her the card earlier.

"Hi, again," she then says to Quinzella. "It seems as if your friends have abandoned you."

Quin smirked, "Um, yes it does."  She wagged the nearly empty glass in her hand, "Thanks."  She smiled.

In truth she had yet to receive the card, having been on the dance floor earlier when this woman was making her rounds, so she was not sure why she was being graced by this gift.  "So tell me, to what is the pleasure of the drink?"

"Oh, excuse me! I've been handing out business cards to people that seem like they might be interested in... an opportunity," Ceruleanne replies.

"You were on the dance floor when I reached your table. Looks like I forgot to return. As it says on the card, my name is Ceruleanne Blue."

Ceruleanne hands Quinzella a card.

________________________________________

        ACQUISITIONS and RECOVERIES
                    AcquireCorp LLC
             5000 Dragon Boulevard
                 Beowulf T292-Z114

                             Ceruleanne Blue
                             VP of Talent
                             5050-2250
                             cerulean@grendal-com
________________________________________


Turning the card over, Quinzella sees that '8pm back room' has been hand written on it.

"My company is always interested in hiring talented people, which is why I frequent the clubs when new ships come into the starport. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn't."

"I don't hand out a card to everyone, just those that look the part. I'm pretty good at reading people, even when they try to hide behind a facade. I got the impression from you that you might be looking for work. Thus the card."

"I'm not always right, but... am I in this case?"

Quin looked at the card as though contemplating it, and then flipped it over to do the same, "Yes, you assume right.  In fact I was directed here to find the work I desire."

She slowly drew out her comm device and idly began to press a few buttons, "I am not much for grouping though, so depending on the work I do like to find the selectness that fits.  What did you have in mind?"

She made a show of forcefully pressing 'send' on her comms, little known she had dialed the number on the card.

"We fit our people to the task, Ceruleanne replies. "I wasn't really expecting everyone of your group to show up, but they've already gone to the backroom. The particular task I need done should only be discussed in private."

"Would you care to crash the party with me?" she adds, nodding at the back room.

Quinzella's comm unit connects with the number dialed.

"Acquisitions and Recoveries. How may I direct your call?" a voice says on the other end.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:21, Fri 05 Sept 2014.

She chuckled at Cerulean, smiling.

She held up her hand as though to ask Cerulean to wait a second while she handled the call, "Cerulean Blue please."  Her cheeks were almost rosy as she smiled.

"Just a moment," the voice on the other end says.

About 2 seconds later, Ceruleanne says with a smile, "Hello." Then she pulls her comm out of her pocket.

"Whenever I'm out of the office, they forward my calls to my comm. It's on silent mode."

Quin chuckled and quietly clicked off the call.  "Thanks for the number, I hope there is no reason I should forget it."

She turned and grabbed some of the salty treats that adorned the bar, "Normally when someone wants my particular skills they see me alone, or at least you know, in a more secure way.  So what about my skills stands out?"  There was a beep over Cerulean's comm, Quin's resume had just landed on Miss Blue's little screen.

"For most... jobs, I don't look at a person's resume, mostly because there's no way of knowing whether what the resume says is true or not," Ceruleanne answers. "Most people are rather bad at writing a resume. They either exaggerate, put in things that they think are significant, or omit things that they think aren't important."

"As I said, I'm a good judge of character... not just my opinion, but others as well. I'm not in the business of quantifying skills and abilities. I don't really need to know if someone can type 70 words a minute; what I need to know is what they'll do if the system is down. 'Innovative resourcefulness' just doesn't show up on anyone's resume."

"For the most part, I can't even tell you what it was about you that caught my eye. Con artists call it 'cold reading'. It can be learned, but the best ones seem to come by it naturally. Comportment, stance, walk, pace, head gestures, dress, manners, eye scanning, smile, hand gestures, touch... It's all of that and more."

"In other words, you fit the profile of someone who could possibly assist me in this endeavor, as did those in the back room. Although we do repo work from time to time, if either the money is right or it's for a friend, that's not our main function."

"I handed out a number of cards tonight, but only you and those in the backroom got the personal request. If the others are interested, they'll call the company and set up an appointment. Those are the ones we'll interview and test to see just what their real skills are."

"Now, any other questions?"

Quin waved her comm at Cerulean, "Judging by the last message from inside there I got, I am not 'on the list'."

She chuckled, "I am more than familiar with the 'cold reading' term, and its use.  I do not send my resume lightly, or false, ever.  Lies are beneath me, I only use them when actually on the job, not when applying.  And I submit the info for the jobs that interest me, as I do not know what you are offering, I sent you everything.  You can run background scans plenty on me.  What you see is mostly me."  She grinned, since the first time she donned an alias this had been a go to phrase for employment.

"So I should ask you if you have any questions, after all if you dislike or disbelieve something, ask about it, if I can't answer the questions it is an obvious lie.  If I can, but not well it will show the 'forward thinking' you say you seek."

"You may not be on their list, but you are on mine," replies Ceruleanne with a light chuckle. "As they all are. Besides, they're in my backroom."

"They are in the room I arranged. It's always smart to get the lay of the land, so I expected at least one or two to check it out first."

"As for asking you a question... Well, asking you an ethical question is moot because it will always depend on the situation. There's always going to be a situation that makes you re-evaluate your ethos, perhaps even violate it."

"So, how many words per minute can you type? I ask this because not every world, not even every locale on this one, has voice recognition software. Sometimes you have to do it the old-fashioned way."

Quin chuckles at Cerulean's words, "That seems like a welcome list.  One I should never mind being on."

She looked back and began to sort of fiddle with her cocktail napkin, "Well my skills are normaly better used outside the type rooms, so I am not the best, but last I checked, my best accuracy was at around 100 words a minute.  Kinda slow."  Quin as blushing oddly as she revealed this news about herself.

"Really? That's actually rather respectible," Ceruleanne responds.

"But that wasn't really the question. The real question was whether you could fake an undercover role as some sort of admin, secretary or data entry clerk. It doesn't matter even if they test you. It's about getting around minor barriers."

"I'm quite sure there isn't a skill on your resume called Bullscheiss. Do you understand now? I can't really ask you a specific question about your abilities because the abilities you might need are dictated by the situation, which could be anything."

"For instance, I knew this guy named Voltgar the Lucky. Didn't need a resume; his name said it all. He and his pals decided to start a salvage company. He claimed they'd salvage anything. So what skills would you expect to need for that job? Turned out that their first client wanted them to salvage his marriage. Same skills you think?"

"By the way, they did it."

"So, ready for the backroom now?"

Quin chuckled, "A roundabout way to ask how well I can act.  A respectable way to be obtuse I should think.  And I actually have done things similar to the hypothetical situations you have layed out.  I am an exceptional pilot, pretty good shot, and can disguise myself pretty well.  I do not have a name similar because it would be Quinzella the Lucky Extreme Awesome Piloting Subterfuge Specialist, or there abouts, basically it would be so long it would not be worth knowing it, especially since those that do usually keep the 'why' as to why they know it, to themselves."

She sighed, "I am great with secrets, and working around secrets."  She chuckled, "Best moniker is Q of all trades.  Will you be there as well?  In the back room?  I hate to go in there and find my efforts futile as to be without a participant I desire there."

"Oh, sure, I'll be there," replies Ceruleanne. "Since everyone is already there, no reason to wait until the designated time. And there is a bit of an urgency to my offer."

She gets up, waits for a second to see if Quinzella will join her, and then starts heading back there.

Quin sighed as she reluctantly followed along, not sure how they would get past the bouncer though.  Not for the first time tonight she was ready to use her training to subdue someone.

"Tell me Cerulean, why the rest of them?  I can vouch for at least one, but the rest I know little about, except a few are rather excitable and like to sprint, not usually the best traits on a mission requiring stealth and guile."

"Don't confuse situation with circumstance," Ceruleanne responds. "What is a reasonable spontaneous reaction in a nightclub seldom translates into the same reaction under stress."

"As for the others, they all have that... for lack of a better term... adventurous spirit. I'm quite sure the job will require more than one person."

She doesn't respond to Quinzella's unasked question about the bouncer though it's clear from her glance, but the bouncer doesn't even blink or move when Ceruleanne approaches. She walks up to the door, opens it and walks in.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Tue 09 Sept 2014.

Quin trails as best she can, hoping not to be stopped.  "No you misunderstand, I meant that I can only vouch for maybe one, period.  Kind of what I said.  The rest was all chagrin, I know of one in there I have worked with and she is A.mazing."

Unless stopped, TO Private Room