Log Date: 2/20/97 Log Cast: Shikh, Shenner, Chantinelle, Sierra, Ahkaurakh, Xerxes, Grathix, Kian, Stalh Log Intro: Having been let in on the details of Grathix's plan, Shenner has returned with a vengeance -- and with a somewhat lightened heart -- to busking on the streets of the capital city of Etti IV. Much to her satisfaction, the time she's been putting in practicing on the guitar Grathix has given her, as well as studying the lesson holos on music from the local library, has begun to pay off; able to sing while playing guitar, she's begun attracting audiences more often, and begun to gather more credits. Some of the young club-goers who'd seen her sing at the Dome have begun to meet with her in the evenings, regularly, to play music and to do general carousing, as well. But the improved notice has its downsides for the kid, too; she has been noticed by an Imperial officer, and try as she might to shake him, the man can't be dissuaded that she's not interested in going to work for him. As she takes to the streets again, she spends more than a little attention on keeping clear of not only the Espos, but Imperials as well.... [NOTE: The lyrics quoted in this log are from "The Elf Glade", by Meg Davis.] ---------- Shikh comes into the District from the east. Shikh has arrived. Shikh walks at a stiff march-like clip from the west, fingers combing his hair back A burst of music sails down the street from somewhere off to the east; someone's tenorish voice is ringing out, husky and hard-accented, on words of some song indistinguishable due to distance. Shikh's head snaps up at the somewhat distant music, a faint smile washing over his face, along with a definite look of relief. He starts off in the direction of the notes, eyes searching the avenue for some sign of the talent which produced the distinctive music and lyrics. Working your way through the streets, you can track down in reasonably short order the source of the singing: it is, indeed, the young redhead Shenner, busking, but this time not in the Memorial Park. And this time it's not with the flute, either. The kid has a bass guitar, the kind of instrument one might expect to see being played in the Free-Flight Dance Dome -- here, it's oddly incongruous with the scruffily-dressed youngster. Shenner's playing it only passably, missing some chords, but nevertheless keeping up a respectably fast tempo as 'he' belts out: Yes they're real (no they can't be) Come with me, and see what might be (I'm afraid!) O you are childish! Nothing kills that does not know ye! The redheaded musician then coaxes several measures of furious chords out of the instrument, before singing on: Come ye now! (No, I fear thee!) Did I say that I would lead thee? (We have walked too far this night Out beyond the firelight!) Come ye now! (No, I fear thee!) Come with me, for I will take ye Dancing now with all my brothers -- I am real! And like the others! Shenner's voice, drawn closer to, can be heard to be ringing out with rather more confidence than the chords of the guitar -- and rather more energy, as the kid puts a raw but palpable force into the words. Not all 'his' delivery is perfect or even passable, but all of the sung notes are on the true. Shikh spots the kid plying 'his' trade outside the dome, and doubles around through the crowds on the far side of the street, to lean against the wall behind Shen. He crosses his arms over his chest and just stands there, listening contently. Occasionally, his demeanor darkens as some passerby outrightly refuses to pay Shenner any mind, and he flashes them an angry glance for their callousness. Yes, they're real -- "No," you told me "Yes," I said, "You should believe me!" Now we have you, wrapped in darkness Now we keep you, never leaving -- Trade your life for not believing! Shenner, singing, storms through another short verse, adding particular bite to a lyric about 'wrapped in darkness, never leaving'.... and at last, the kid's voice rises on a closing chorus: Steel and mail and gilded crossbow Feather of the ancient windbird Wide as wonder, tall as starlight Lords of earth and lords of fire, Life the love that they desire Lords of earth and lords of fire, Life the love that they desire.....! And with a credibly hard -- and in tune -- crash of a chord, the kid falls breathlessly into silence, grinning crookedly at one passerby who tosses a credit note into 'his' guitar case. A handful of credits clink into the case from behind Shenner, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of clapping. Shenner jerks 'his' red head up, blinking rapidly, gaze flicking round. Shenner's expression shifts into blank shock for a moment, before a hesitant grin flickers across that mouth. "Shikh..." Shikh nods slowly, lowering his hands to his waist and looping his thumbs in his belt. "How ya been, kid?" Something about Shenner's expression remains a bit guarded, a bit shy -- but despite that, the kid lopsidedly grins. "I, uh, been workin' on my guitar." Shikh smiles, "Yeah, you're sounding good..." He scowls slightly and studies the face of his chrono, "Been a while, huh? Feeling better than you did last time we talked?" Shenner's eyes darken a bit at the question, not quite completely overshadowed by the attempt at a gamine grin. "I'm better, yeah...." Shikh clears his throat and frowns a bit, looking toward the pavement. He toes the ground uncomfortably with his boot. "Sorry about all that, kid... I didn't mean to get so out hand back there..." Shenner says, surprisingly meekly, "It's okay." Shikh chews on his lip a bit self-conciously, still not lifting his eyes to look directly at Shenner. "...fyou say so, I guess..." He shrugs, "I had no right to get angry like that... I mean, in reality, what am I to you? ...Nothing." As 'he' is not being directly looked at, the sudden liquid look of the redhead's green eyes goes safely unnoticed. But Shenner's voice doesn't require visual contact, and it turns a bit huskier as the kid ventures, "I... ain't really sure what you are, Shikh. I ain't... used to havin'... friends." Shikh raises his eyes a bit, but doesn't really look up, "Friend, huh? I guess we'd have to be to still talk after that episode..." He shakes his head and sighs, "I didn't think I could get so upset about a little argument like that... boy was I wrong. I was afraid you'd leave the planet or something." He shrugs. Shenner chews consideringly on 'his' lower lip for a moment, that liquidness still present in those green eyes. "I, uh, can't really leave yet... I-I gotta manager now, see? Somebody who wants to help me sing. So I been practicin'. Seein' if people wanna hear me, at least on the streets." 'He' nods at the guitar case that rests beside where the kid's sitting crosslegged on the pavement. Then Shen adds tinily, "Sorry I made yah mad." Shikh nods weakly, then pushes off the wall, sidling over to where Shenner sits. He tousles the redhead's hair, then drops heavily down beside 'him', groaning exaggeratedly with the effort. He slaps his hand on Shen's leg, "You're doin a good job, buddy... Looks like you're startin to wrack up some contributions..." He thrusts his chin toward the case, raising his eyes to peer into its confines. Shikh adds, pulling his hand away quickly, recalling Shen's discomfort at physical contact, "You've got real talent... ya do." More than a few credits can be seen in the guitar case -- notably more than Shen tends to pull in with the flute. The kid does blush a bit at the brief slap on the leg, but the blush yields readily enough to a crooked grin. "Nothin' to sneeze at," 'he' agrees. Shikh chuckles, nodding, lifting his eyes to watch the cross-section of people passing by. "So when's your first gig?" He thumbs back over his shoulder, "Official one, I mean... at the Dome is it?" Shenner looks up at the place, grinning slightly still. "My boss's workin' on that," the kid confides. "Ain't given me a date yet. Just told me to keep practicin'." Shikh laughs lightly, "Sposed to make ya perfect... We'll see I guess, huh?" He glances over at Shen grinning. "I'll be there, whenever it is... just make sure ya let me know." Shenner brightens. "I will," comes the immediate promise. Shikh relaxes, leaning back and propping himself on his hands. He smiles contentedly, "So what're you up to now?" Shenner laughs, low. "Well, I _was_ singin'," 'he' points out. Shikh nods, "Course... Guess I'll leave you to it then. Don't wantcha underprepared for yer big break..." He smiles and straightens his arms, pushing himself up to stand. Hastily, Shenner nods, too, watching you get up; a hint of awkwardness remains about the kid's eyes, though 'his' voice is steady and clear. "You got a job yet?" Shikh nods and starts to walk away, "I'll see you around, Shen." He tucks his hands into his pockets. "Okay," the kid calls after. A moment, then, the guitar starts up, much slower this time, as Shen warms up with a slow and careful and simple melody. Shikh disappears back toward his home, whistling quietly Shenner's song. Must be one he knows... ---------- Interlude: With more than a little trepidation, Shenner watched Shikh vanish into the crowds. Two distinct and separate reactions to the young man gripped her, and the way they clashed in Shen's head did things to her stomach that she was sure she didn't like -- the one thing she _was_ sure about. Shikh was a man -- unnerving enough. And Corellian -- even more unnerving. To round it off, Shen still wasn't sure what connection he had to Simone Drake. But on the other hand... he had never been anything but kind to her. And not only kind, but apparently fond of Shenner in a way she couldn't remember anyone ever being fond of her. _He's only seen me a few times, had a few drinks, listened to me sing... and I'm his only friend in the universe?_ She didn't want to think about someone being that attached to her, especially if she was due to leave the planet soon. And especially if Grathix wanted her to fake her own death. The musician did her best to settle herself and keep drawing in her credits on the street corner, and she more or less succeeded, but the nagging thought of Shikh nevertheless stayed in the back of her mind. And after a while.... ---------- Out and about on the streets today, a respectable number of businessbeings of countless sizes, shapes, sexes, and species have an unobtrusive addition to their daily travels: a skinny redheaded youth sitting crosslegged on the sidewalk, flanked by an open guitar case in which rests, on one side, the instrument that belongs in it, and on the other, a handful of scattered credit notes and coins. The redhead's playing a wooden flute, though, weaving a melody in among the traffic noises of sentients in vehicles and on foot, tentacle, claw, or whatever mode of transport they might happen to employ. Sierra comes along the road to the southeast. Sierra has arrived. Sierra A lively, quiet young woman in her early twenties. Shoulder-length golden hair surrounds her head, ending at a shelf of blonde bangs which reach just down to her sharp black eyebrows. The brows are a great contrast to her bright blue, sparkly eyes and her fleshy, deep, olive-hued skin. Her jawline runs in a tight curve from her ears to a small chin. She has round cheeks, in an as exceptionally defined arc as her jaw. Her lips are full and pink, tending to stay in a tight, subconscious smile. Her nose is a pink button between her equally rosey cheeks. She is dressed in a black suit. The jacket is sleek, tailored to follow her concaving figure. The shoulders are broader than hers, sharp at the sides and flow down into loose sleeves. Her little hands extend from the sleeves, attractive but subtle jewelry adorning them. The sides taper from the wide shoulders, down into a narrow waist. The suit is buttoned closed. A little gold pin is attached to the left breast of the jacket, shining in bright contrast. The matching black pants are of the same sleek, attractive silk. They plume about her wide hips, following down into loose, comfortable legs which end just above the ankles. The ankles show a sheen darker than her olive-tanned skin, seemingly some thin hose. The shoes are solid black with heels that make her look subtly taller. She maintains quiet, meek shyness, but still smiles and can be coaxed to laugh. Carrying: DROID: G1-587 Droid Controller Chantinelle looks at you for a moment. Chantinelle comes out with Sierra the embassy, hand in hand. She looks curiously around and sees Shenner "Oh hello!" she greets friendly. Shenner looks up from where 'he' is sitting on the pavement, flute in hand and to mouth; the kid's dark eyebrows quirk, but the cropped red head bobs, once, in reply. The song the musician's playing doesn't waver. Sierra trips along, behind Chantinelle. Sierra smiles softly at Shenner. Chantinelle having her arm around Sierra's shoulder and looks curious at the young musician, waiting that she ends her play." Eventually, the kid does, and lowers the flute to catch some breath. Sierra stands with Chantinelle, looking down curiously at Shenner, and smiling brightly. Shenner's green gaze remains amiably bland, as the musician drawls, "Afternoon." A skinny hand reaches into the guitar case lying on the pavement beside Shen, getting the little vial of oil for the flute; Shenner sets to oiling, then. Chantinelle smiles, "Heya, want to join us little celebration in the FFDD? I am just in such a good mood, I could even invite some rebels to join us! And you was so upset the last tim....?" Sierra looks at surprise in Chantinelle, her eyes widened. Sierra turns her head towards Chantinelle's, and whispers to her, keeping her jaw set tight, moving her lips. Shenner's brows go up. "Celebration?" the kid inquires, even as that carefully cheerful green gaze takes in the two women. Chantinelle shakes slowly to Sierra, answering her whispered question, "No no!" Chantinelle's eyes cheers, "Yeah! Life is so beautiful, its worth to celebrate every day!" Sierra raises her eyebrows, creasing her forehead. Chantinelle sighs seeing you two not so happy and looks down, "Well at least, we can thank that we still live." Sierra tugs on Chantinelle's hand, nodding minutely towards Shenner. Chantinelle smiles again and looks at your faces, "So whats up? Com'on! While verybody here just waits for the death, we could enjoy it!" Chantinelle looks up to the sky, seeing the blinking hulls of many starships. Sierra smiles softly, shaking her head. "Perhaps you should /introduce us/, 'Elle?" she asks. Sierra looks at you for a moment. Shenner, one eyebrow still crooked, remains paused there, still sitting crosslegged by the open guitar case. "Well," the redhead drawls, "It's about time I took a break to lubricate my throat anyway." With that, the youngster rises, moving to slip the flute into its carry-sheath, gather up the loose credits in the guitar case, and close the case up. Shenner adds, simply, "Shenner," in Sierra's direction. Sierra smiles at Shenner. "Hello, Shenner!" she greets enthusiastically, "A pleasure to meet you." Chantinelle smiles and introduces Sierra, "And this is Sierra, a dilpomat like I." Sierra smiles up at Chantinelle. Shenner slings the flute case over one shoulder, hoists up the guitar case to sling onto the other, and says airily, "After you, ladies." Chantinelle looks down on the guitar case, "You are playing for money?" she asks frowing. Sierra glances at the case. Shenner gives a lopsided half-grin, half-smirk. "I don't beg, and I expect the Espos'd get a trifle peeved if I tried to pick anybody's pockets. Besides... I need the practice." Sierra turns a smirk up to Chantinelle. The guitar case in question is a simple carrier for the instrument that had been visible lying inside; it's black, battered with signs of being toted around the streets, and sporting no adornments. A scruffy case, but functional, apparently like the redhead's general garb. Sierra jabs Chantinelle in her ribs, laugh-grinning up to her. "Well?" she prods, "Are we going, or aren't we now?" Chantinelle nods slowly to Shenner, "Hmm well indeed the Espos would be a little bit surprised about pickpocking on Etti." she turns around and moves to the FFDD, "Lets go!" she cheers. Sierra walks quickly with Chantinelle. Chantinelle yiiikes and grins a Sierra, "Hey be carefully, I am not a ST!" Shenner smiles blandly, and, one hand on the guitar case's carry strap to keep it steady, the kid ambles after the other two. Sierra follows Chantinelle, tripping behind. Chantinelle makes her way into the Free-Flight Dance Dome. Chantinelle has left. Sierra makes her way into the Free-Flight Dance Dome. Sierra has left. You enter the Free-Flight Dance Dome, ready for an enjoyable time. Free-Flight Dance Dome - Capital City The Free Flight Dome of Etti IV is famous. Not only for the repute of it's patrons, but also for the amazing dance floor it possesses. A ring of tables rise around a central open area. The tables are terraced, with the higher ones being tucked back further and further into shadow and dimness. The center of the room, in contrast, is brightly lit. It is here, in the opening at the middle of the ring, where the dance floor lies. It is from this space that the establishment received it's name. The space is bordered with a railing made of chrome, polished to a high gleam. Beyond this railing there is a field, controlled by the workers, that nullifies the act of gravity. Dancing of all sorts is possible in this field of weightlessness. Flips, jumps of incredible height, and mere toe tapping all to the beat of the live band that constantly plays on the bandstand. The ceiling towers 25 meters above the floor, giving ample room. The bandstand and the glass and chrome bar are the only things that break the circle of tables. The bartenders, two of them at a time, prepare drinks quickly, and attempt to avoid listening to the interesting (and often dangerous) conversations around them. After all, one false word in this place can mean one's life. The Espo police presence here is normal. (OOC: Type '+lhelp' for local help.) Contents: Sierra Chantinelle Obvious exits: leads to Port District - Capital City . Sierra follows the exuberant Chantinelle in, grinning playfully at her. Sierra speaks through grin-gritted teeth, restraining her excitement. "Well, shall we fly?!" Chantinelle looks around at the tables, "So where can we sit?" Chantinelle laughs at Sierra and looks up to the flying dancers, "Oh dear, you know I hate the space and esp. the Zero-Grav areas. this would really kill me up there!" Sierra pleads with Chantinelle, putting on her pouty face, "Please!" She grips Chantinelle by both of her hands and walks backwards, attempting to slowly progress Chantinelle to the floor. Shenner saunters after the other two, casts a green glance to the antigrav floor, and grins wickedly -- but does not comment. The kid simply says, "Well, if you ladies are gonna sit, pick a table, I don't wanna cart this guitar around the whole place." Shenner nevertheless carries the thing with ease enough. Chantinelle yiiikes and blushes shaking her head wild at Sierra, "Oh No!!" she begs "Better let us search a table for Shenner!" and tries to escape Sierra. Sierra laughs happily, and tugs Chantinelle, shaking her head. "Nope!" she declares, "Sorry! We're dancing!" Shenner smirks, but not without amusement, folding that lean frame into a booth not far from the dance floor. Sierra concedes to Chantinelle's pleading, retaining a pouty face, and lets go of her hands. Chantinelle puuuhs and wipes her wet forehead, "Thanx stars, I am saved! Oh Sierra, you can be really evil, you know this?" she grins at Sierra. Sierra smiles sweetly, innocently up at Chantinelle and asks in the most astounded tone, "Me??" She reverts to a dramatically evil grin, and wiggles her eyebrows. Chantinelle laughs out loud and chuckles, "Why, of course not you! Or are you seeing anybody else trying to kill me here?" she asks ironically. Shenner, still amiably neutral of expression, lounges at the table now, throwing each arm back around to the back of the chair, and scanning the place for a waiter. Sierra walks back to Shenner, and sits at the table. Chantinelle follows Sierra silent and takes place at the tabel too, "Good choice, Shenner." she waves commanding to the waiter to appear at once at the table. Shenner smiles blandly, gives a single nod, and requests, "Cider," when the server hastens up. Sierra smiles at Shenner kindly. She asks, tilting her head, "How old are you, Shenner?" "Of the age of consent," the redhead replies promptly. "Why?" Sierra meekly bites her lip, and shrugs apologetically, looking injured. "Just ... wondering," she whispers. Shenner, if offended, gives no sign of it, and simply says cheerfully, "I'm old enough. Don't fret about it." "It wasn't about drinks.." she murmurs, "I was just wondering." Shenner's eyebrows quirk. "Old enough for anything that might come up," the kid adds. Chantinelle smiles, "Well okay, what you want to drink you too? I have today Caldny's credit card." she grins. Sierra looks surprised at Shenner, her eyebrows raised high and eyes widened. Shenner, having already put in her order for cider, just grins. "Far be it from me to refuse free booze," the redhead drawls to Chantinelle. Chantinelle smiles and looks at you, "Hey what is! So quiet suddenly? Come one, let us enjoy today only!" Shenner, looking at Sierra's climbing brows, gives an apparently amused and definitely broad grin. Chantinelle sips slowly at her mineral water, "I can't forget seeing you outside playing for money. I mean if the Espos see you doing this, they will arrest you for sure!" Cider aquired, the kid takes a healthy swig of it, and looks to Chantinelle. "Not a problem," comes the confident response. "I got a busking permit." Chantinelle oohs and nods, "Oh I see. Good for you! Cuz I heard bad rumors about these Espos! They do not have any respect for anybody." she sighs and leans back in her char, relaxing and puts her feet onto the table. "nobody really shows respect on this planet." Shenner murmurs into the cider, perhaps sardonically, "Can't say I'm in a position to know." Sierra looks at Shenner, her eyebrowse raised and eyes wide in surprise. Shenner winks. Sierra bites her lip, looks around unsurely. "So," the redheaded kid asks lazily, "what's getting celebrated?" Sierra looks back to Shenner, and shrugs lightly. Chantinelle smiles, "Do not mind Sierra, if Shenner do not want to tell us the age, there is not need." Sierra nods slowly. Chantinelle smiles to Sierra and raises her glass, "To you, dear!" Sierra raises her eyebrows. "To me?" she gasps in surprise. "What did I do?" she wonders aloud. Chantinelle laughs about such cuteness, "Just for your being!" :) "Oh," whispers Sierra in fascinated surprise. She smiles, and takes her glass, raising it for a toast, as well. Shenner chuckles a bit, and briefly lifts the glass of cider before returning to nursing it, and watching the other two at the table. Sierra sips her glass, her large, blue eyes seem to cross slightly as they look down at the liquid. Chantinelle smiles, watching only Sierra and sighs gladly. Sierra presses her lips together, enjoying a last bit of the drink, and places the glass on the table. She looks about the table and smiles, delighted again. Chantinelle sighs suddenly and searchs for something in her dress, "Btw I got a I-Net message this morning. Read this." She gives a small paper to Sierra. Sierra looks at the slip, holding it delacately between her index and middle fingers. Chantinelle sighs again and raises her glass another time, "So I can only say: Hail to the Empire! .... .. even now." Shenner just grins a bit, taking time with that cider, appreciating it. Chantinelle looks astonished at Shenner, "You aren't raising your glass too?" Shenner, expression utterly deceitless, says easily, "Empire... Rebels... you're all way over the head of a street rat like me." Chantinelle smiles and is nearly pleased by this answer, "Oh, well I heard many persons saying this and later they changed their minds! Well let me say that on a rebel-ruled world you wouldn't be ever allowed to play on the streets! They are real bureaucratists!" Lopsidedly, the redheaded musician smiles. "Can't say's I ever met any. Rebels, that is." Chantinelle oohs, "you will recognize them easily, just look at them: dirty stinking, no uniforms and no manners. Well in one word: criminals." "Yeah?" Shenner's brows quirk again, and the redhead chuckles lowly. "Hrmm. I ain't been so much dirty and stinking lately, but I ain't got a uniform, and can't say I ever passed any courses in manners." Sierra looks at Shenner with a humored smile. Sierra giggles softly. Chantinelle scans you carefully and sighs, "But you aren't a rebel, are you?" Shenner readily replies, before another healthy swig of cider, "What you see is what you get, lady; I'm just a buskin' street rat." Chantinelle grins, "Oh, I am not a Lady either! But you are right indeed!" Sierra smiles at Chantinelle, nodding in agreement. Sierra says, "You're an animal, 'Elle.." Sierra smiles. Chantinelle blushes at once and turns to Sierra, "Oh, why this?" she asks with wide eyes unbelieving. Shenner puts in dryly, "Whoo!" Sierra's smile drops for a moment, and she looks sorry. "I was-it was a joke! Just kidding," she says, smiling weakly. Chantinelle oohs and smiles again, "It was my fault, sorry Sierra!" and hugs her slightly. "Well back to these rebels. Shenner you sould really think what you will do with your future." Sierra hugs Chantinelle with a happy, friendly smile. Shenner says brightly, "Oh, I have. I'm gonna be a musician." Sierra nods slowly. "Will you join an orchestra?" she asks with a lilt of interest in her voice. Shenner laughs, fully, tenorish voice rounding it out. "Huh. Trifle refined for the kind of music I play, I think. 'Sides, I ain't seen an orchestra yet that takes guitar players." Chantinelle smiles, "Why not? I think I can remember this band back at home on Corus, they had a few guitars in it." The redheaded kid grins broadly. "Band, now that's a different story than orchestra. I might join a band. Or make one." "Oh," Sierra says curiously, "What would your name be?" Shenner's eyes glitter. "My name, or the band's?" Chantinelle chuckles, "The Band's one, of course." Sierra nods sideways to Chantinelle. Shenner leans back in the chair, considering this, swirling cider around in the mug. "Huh. Band name. Karkin' good question," comes the tenorish murmur. An almost dreamy look flits across the kid's eyes. Shenner finally looks up at the stage off across the antigrav floor, still grinning crookedly, but that green gaze holds speculation. "Dunno. I think the name would come with the band. Has to fit, you know. Names have power." Sierra nods slowly. "I see." Chantinelle sighs, "I a really curious about the name of the new one?" she says silent to Sierra. Sierra says, "Hm?" Sierra looks at Chantinelle, blinking in perplexity. Sierra laughs, "Oh!" Shenner returns to polishing off that cider. Sierra says, "So do you just make a living off of your street-playing, Shenner?" "'Least till my manager actually starts managing," Shenner replies laconically, still occasionally glancing off to the current crop of performers on the stage. Sierra bites her lip, giving an apologetic, sorry look. "Well," she says, "You are a very talented young man ... I'm sure you will someday make it." Shenner inclines that dark cropped head in Sierra's direction. "Grath claims he's gotta get me up there." -- the red head bobs at the stage -- "but I'll believe it when I see the contract to sign." Another crooked grin. Ahkaurakh comes in from the street. Ahkaurakh has arrived. Ahkaurakh rolls a 18 for his SNEAK skill. A Good roll! Sierra looks at Chantinelle, smiling. Chantinelle rolls a 22 for her PERCEPTION skill. An Excellent roll! Shenner rolls a 7 for her PERCEPTION skill. A Poor roll! Chantinelle looks at the newcomer and frowns slightly, looking around carefully. Shenner, still studying the stage and the musicians upon it, gives a covetous eye to some of the instruments being played, while finishing off the last of that cider. Ahkaurakh stealthfully approaches Chanti Chantinelle looks nervously around and turns to the table, "Well would you excuse me for a sec." Sierra looks curiously at Chantinelle, raising her eyebrows. Ahkaurakh walks over to a crowded corner of the FFDD Chantinelle stands up smiling at Sierra, "Just a sec hon." and moves to the bar, heading into a crowd of persons. Shenner blinks, then drawls, "Sure thing," and looks for a waiter to flag down for another cider. Restlessly, the redheaded kid fidgets a bit, one hand idly patting the guitar case propped next to 'his' chair. Sierra looks at Shenner, and shrugs, smiling slightly. Sierra whispers, "So how do you get enough money to survive?" Shenner, at something whispered, looks at Sierra, brows going up. The redhead then grins faintly, leans over, and whispers something back. You whisper, "I'm a _real_ good musician." to Sierra. Sierra raises her eyebrows in wonder. Chantinelle looks back at her table for a sec and shakes slowly her head turning to an invisble man. Sierra whispers, "So you get enough money in your case to support yourself??" Chantinelle searches something in her suit and draws out a small black box putting it on the bar, the presses her thumb on it and it opens with a loud hiss. Shenner's eyes glitter again, almost playfully. You whisper, "I know a few tricks for gettin' by. I ain't starvin'." to Sierra. Xerxes comes in from the street. Xerxes has arrived. You sense: Sierra nods slowly. "And even afford a manager, too!" Shenner suddenly laughs. You whisper, "I ain't affordin' him _yet_, but we'll see what happens." to Sierra. Xerxes stops at the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the change in illumination, before proceeding to a seat at the bar. You sense: Sierra quiets, glancing around. She leans towards you and asks, "Is it illegal?" conspiratorily. Chantinelle produces a small data disc of the box and scans it carefully. She looks around again nervously and give the disc carefully to the hidden person. As Xerxes enters, he might spy Shenner and Sierra at one table, apparently deep in conversation; the redheaded musician has a guitar case propped by 'his' chair, and a flute's carry-sheath still slung around one shoulder. Shenner, to Sierra, offers a completely guileless expression. Ahkaurakh quietly takes the disk with a quick fluid motion You whisper, "Now, if it were, I wouldn't be wanting to talk about that, now would I?" to Sierra. You sense: Sierra bites her lip, her eyebrows arching apologetically. "Sorry," she whispers. Chantinelle shudders slightly and turns to the bartender at the bar, talking to him and giving him some credits for her bills. Shenner winks to Sierra, leaning back in 'his' chair. The waiter brings Shenner's second cider, and the kid settles in to start nursing it. Chantinelle returns to her table sitting down, "Everything okay here? I just payed all my bills I left her in the last week." she smiles slightly. Sierra nods to Chantinelle, looking doubtingly at her. "Right as a dimple on a dewback's behind," says Shenner placidly. Chantinelle still has the small box in her hand and blushes as she puts it carefully into her suit. Chantinelle hmms at Sehnner, "Pardon?" Shenner, without missing a beat, asks, "Never seen a dewback?" Chantinelle says, "Yes I saw some, on Tat, I think." Chantinelle gulps down her glass and sighs, smirking. Chantinelle's commsystem beeps and she listens to it. Shenner starts to speak, but perhaps changes 'his' mind, and settles back to sip cider instead when the commlink goes off. Chantinelle oohs and blushes, "Oh please excuse me again, I must head back to the embassy. But please stay here and enjoy this lovely day! The bartender knows me and will bring you everything you order! No limits ofr today." she grins. Sierra begins to stand up. Sierra asks, "What happened?" Sierra looks wondrously at Chantinelle. Chantinelle stands up and pushes Sierra softly down into her chair, "Nothing dear, just stay here!" she kisses Sierra on her forehead and leaves, waving back. Shenner says in amiably bland politeness, "Thanks," as Chantinelle departs. Sierra looks curiously at Chantinelle. Sierra poutily relaxes in her seat, surrendering. Chantinelle throws a kisshand to the table, "Have some fun! Well I will catch oyu later!" Sierra waves at Chantinelle, smiling sweetly. Chantinelle exits and heads into the Port District. Chantinelle has left. Sierra looks at Shenner, her mouth quirked down. Shenner considers 'his' remaining table companion, then observes, "If you wanna go after her, don't let me stop yah...." Sierra shakes her head, shrugging. "When she says stay," she explains, "It is for my own good." She sniffs, and lowers her eyes, disappointedly. Sierra bites her lip, and glances at Shenner. Shenner considers 'his' remaining table companion thoughtfully, then gives a mild shrug. "Well, if you're worried about _her_ own good. Not my business, though. You gonna milk her tab for her?" The kid winks again. Sierra shrugs, shaking her head. "I'm not much of a drinker," she says. Shenner leans over a bit and confides wryly, "It gets easier with practice." Sierra smiles sweetly at Shenner, nodding assent. "I suppose so." Shenner taps 'his' cider mug. "Take this brew, for instance; I been on a few planets, and in more than few bars, but one thing's for sure, _this_ place has got the best cider I ever had. Goes down real easy. You oughtta try some." Shenner, as 'his' table companion excuses herself -- perhaps intimidated by the cider? -- shrugs, and sits back, now alone. The second cider finished off, Shenner finally stands, resettles the flute-sheath on 'his' right shoulder, lifts up the guitar case to be draped off 'his' left, and starts ambling out without bothering to leave any money on the table. .oO (Well, the Imperial SAID she'd paid for it...) ---------- Interlude: The situation, Shenner thought as she left the Dome, was growing unsettling again. Her conscience was more or less at ease now with what she was on Etti IV to do -- but replacing this was a new nervousness at the interest the Imperials seemed to be taking in her. On the one hand, a Stormtrooper lieutenant -- another Corellian! -- and on the other, a woman who seemed quite highly placed in the Imperial diplomatic corps on Etti IV. Shenner didn't mind letting Imperials buy her drinks, but she had no intention of working for any, and she wasn't sure how long she could keep saying "no" to any such offers. Especially on a world who answered to the Empire for its existence. As night fell and Shenner opted to head for her favorite cafe, intending to meet various acquaintances of musical bent she'd made, she kept a wary eye out for the ESPOs... and the Imperials. ---------- Music on the streets -- down a side avenue, away enough from the Free-Flight Dance Dome that the music carries clearly through the evening air. There's the banging of more than one drum, a skirrl of some kind of pipes, and over the top of it all, fierce strumming on a bass guitar. Grathix stops as he enters the area, stopping to listen to the traces music Kian comes through the District from the direction of the spaceport. Kian has arrived. Kian looks at you for a moment. From that same side avenue, Shenner's tenorish voice rings out huskily over the frantic tempo of the dance reel being played; a few other voices are belting out, along with the redheaded musician, the lyrics to the song, while several enthusiastic young sentients are dancing in a circle before the cafe. Grathix .oO(Could it be?) Kian half walks half skips down the main street, gracefully tunelling through the crowd. Occasionally, he stops to peek into the shop displays, full of childish interest and curiosity. After hearing Shenner's voice, he twitches his nose and floats towards the musician wearing a big grin. Grathix begins to make his way towards the side avenue. A slight grin upon his face visible as he approaches the avenue. Any being drawing near might spot, in the cluster of musicians putting out the fast-tempoed song, Shenner poised on a battered stool, skinny hands on the guitar strings keeping up well enough with a more competent guitarist carrying the lead, a large blue-skinned fellow with six digits on each hand. Shenner's grinning fiercely, green eyes glinting, as much attention on the activity of the dancers as on the song. Kian stops before entering the darkest, narrower street, and just peeks around the corner, still with the same grin under his twitching nose. Kian chuckles, bends, and the moment later walks towards the group on his hands. Kian stops just behind Shenner and stands there for a moment, blinking into the upside-down world and scratching his knee with his heel. A couple of the musicians across the half-circle smirk as they play -- but nobody in the cluster falters, not with the song in full swing. Shenner, for a skinny kid, puts out a powerful contribution to the harmony. Kian suddenly stands on his feet again but is already moving, like a turbulent cloud or a hat in the wind, in a swift and light circle around the group. If this is a dance, it is a very strange dance; a perfect circular orbit of a kid wildly spinning around his axis in the rythem of the music, first once per beat, then twice, becoming almost a blur. The circle narrows and becomes faster and faster, and still it is a regular motion, hands just lightly spread but not moving, the small, thin Kian's shape spinning and spinning constantly in the same level... Then, disorders appear in the-almost-blur: occasionally, the whole body waves like a touched string, just lightly, and the blur becomes patterned... going faster and faster. Some of the other dancers note the presence of the child that's joined them, and enthused noises issue from many kinds of mouths. The musicians, perhaps inspired, pick up the tempo and frenetic pace. Kian increases the spin with the new tempo, his hands float outwards and up, he's no planet anymore, now he's a comet... He crashes into the walls of the narrow street, but bounces off like a rubber ball, accelerating. What used to be order changes into chaos of shapes and motion and colors (in this special case, mostly ruby red of his hair and light of his clothes). Rolls and saults, flips and twists, everything like running water: turbulent but fluent and transparent. The music crashes on, until at last, with a final surge of chords from both instruments and voices, the song roars to a close and ragged, breathless cheers. Kian sits down on the pavement and pops a huge chewing gum into his mouth. "Who," he blinks. "Fun." One or two of the dancers grin or whoop or smile to the kid, while Shenner, grinning just as big, high-fives the drummer sitting next to 'him', before setting the bass guitar aside and stretching tiredly. Somebody thrusts a cider into the redhead's hands, and Shenner chugs it, thirstily. Kian yawns and stands up, suddenly looking very sleepy. His grin is a bit tired too. He crosses his eyes like a sprite then nods to everyone (and to Shenner with a naughty little wink). "I need a bed," he comments calmly. "And I am going right there." Shenner gives Kian a bland look right in return, but then grins to the kid, and winks. [And not too much later...] Down a side avenue not far from the Dome, in front of an outdoor cafe where a throng of young beings is busily devoting itself to the pastimes of drinking, dancing, and making music, a skinny young redhead parks lazily at a table, tosses booted feet up atop it, and thirstily nurses a glass of something cold. Stalh notes the fiery young woman and checks his uniform. Stalh looks at you for a moment. Stalh straightens his uniform and walks over to the table where the young woman is seated. At a momentary glance, Stalh takes a step back as if recognising the woman before someplace, but disregards it after a moments thought. He walks up to the lady with a well balance measure of confidence and endearment. The redheaded kid has a guitar case propped open behind the chair; within it, a bass guitar rests, along with the wooden flute and its carry-sheath. The redhead in question lifts a green gaze to note the arrival, and dark eyebrows crinkle together over green eyes. After placing one of his leather gloved hands behind his back, Stalh speasks and says, "Is this seat taken?" Shenner drains a bit more cider from that glass in the skinny pale hand, and drawls across the top of it, "Not currently."" Stalh swallows and continues as he looks at his surroundings. "May I sit there?" The redhead shrugs. "Knock yourself out, pal, I'll be gettin' up to play again in a bit anyway." The tone's neutral, the redhead's gaze wary, but not hostile -- at least not yet. The hand with the cider gestures off across the span of tables and seats to a raggedly organized cluster of musicians warming up for another dance reel. The young Imperial Officer pulls a chair from out of the table and gently graces it with his presence. The young man's hand reaches slowly down the leg of his pants and you hear a click-perhaps of the holster fastener. The Imperial shifts his weight a little as he repositions his blaster into a more comfortable spot. The clic returns as he refastens the belt. Casual still of expression, the redhead nurses the cider, grinning faintly as the musicians across the way, another guitarist, a pair of drummers, and a piper, launch into a foot-stomper of a number that makes several patrons of the outdoor cafe whoop in approval. A few of them get up to dance, some with grace and some without. The voice of the man is soft and charming...He speaks as if he is seducing you but you are unsure of his intentions. "You are a musician I see... Stalh says, "Are you...Intrested in some...business?" Shenner swings a green gaze back around to you and says blandly, "I seem to recall tellin' you already I got a manager, pal." Stalh smiles charmingly as he listens intently to you and the music. A quicj flicker of slight anger indents and tarnishes his smile-but for only a brief second... Stalh nods..."A Manager....ahhh..Yes I remember you telling me that...Something about his credits bein as good as mine? or something like that..." Stalh Mutters something to himself before continuing... Stalh says, "Yes...I am sure Grathix's credits are as good as mine-if they are Imperial coinage that is..." Stalh smiles wryly as he goes on. "However...would he have the quantity that I do?? Stalh says, "The Empire /IS/ very profitable." Grathix enters the area from the Spaceport. Stalh says, "I am quite positive that you know Madam Director chantinelle. I saw the recognition in your face earlier the other day...Dont be coy with me..." Stalh says, "And quite frankly I am positive that you would be honoured to play for her...And me." Stalh looks at the Flute..."Do you mind? I just want to have a look at this..." Grathix begins to weave his way into the crowd and bumps into a familiar face. He greets the human with a solid hand shake and begins to talk with him. Shenner, still parked with booted feet up on that table, lowers the cider glass a bit, and replies frankly, "I know of a woman named Chantinelle, I know she works for the Empire, 'cause she said so. Bought me a drink or two. Don't know squat besides that, or anything about her musical tastes, except she thinks the band in the Dome reeks." The redhead's right brow goes up, as the green gaze flicks from you down to the flute, and a shoulder shrugs. "Sure." The flute, examined, can be seen to be made of a dark wood, dappled in hues -- either naturally, or perhaps through judiciously applied artistry. The surface of the instrument is entwined with delicate engraving, a single leafy vine that twines from one end of the flute to the other, invisible from a distance but noticeable to the touch. Green cord binds the flute around both sides of the fingerholes, and another stripe of binding is up near the mouthhole. Grathix continues his talk with his friend, then breaks out into a boysterous laugh and exclaims, "Yeah right, that'll be the day!" Stalh nods in agreement that of the flute's complexion. "Barbaric, old, antique...It has a certain character. Quite pleasant I must say." Stalh turns abrubtly to the loud man in the crowd and frowns. A quick shake of the head is noticeable as he concentrates further on the 'thing' before him. Shenner smiles narrowly. "Older than me, or so the little orange guy I bought it off of woulda had me think. Probably older than you." Stalh says, 'Very nice' as he returns the flute to you. "So you are still adamant about the playing then??" Grathix shakes his head with a smile. He pats his friend on the shoulder and utters a farewell. Grathix parts company with his friends and continues his trek amidst the crowd. Stalh eyes narrow as the word 'orange' is spoken. Stalh's immediate though is off disgust as it most obviously be another...alien." Shenner takes the instrument deftly in the hand not claimed by the cider, and says, still neutral of tone, "I told yah, pal, you want me to play at that lady's party, you take it up with my manager." A shrug. Stalh says, "A rather shame as I see it...If you are not offended, I say that you are a fool for turning down the offer to play for Madam Chantinelle and be able to leave your manager out of it."" Stalh says, "But...if you insist. I will..." Stalh smiles evilly..."Speak to your 'manager.' Perhaps we can come to a deal." Grathix makes his way over to a local cafe withing the area. He takes a seat at one of the tables outside the establishment. "ST_SSO1686 please report to the the Colonel immediately." The voice on the comink is crisp and sharp. Stalh says, "Excuse me for a moment." Shenner says cheerfully, "I'm just a street rat bard, pal. Ain't got a head for business." Without missing a beat, the redhead inclines that cropped head, almost graciously. Grathix orders a drink form one of the mech-waiters and begins to observe the people in the vicinity. The young officer removes the comlink from off his collar and speaks into it. "Acknowledge base. The reason?" There is a long pause in between the next batch of talk from the comlink. A different voice emits from the comlink this time. "Redeployment...We have the go-ahead for..." The voice returns "Is it safe where you are?" Shenner sips at the cider, thin features an amiably bland mask. The mech-waiter brings Grathix his black colored drink. Grathix places the appropriate currency on the mech-aiters tray and dismisses it. He then turn back to viewing the people in the area. Stalh speaks into the comlink as he removes the blaster and hold it in his left hand. "It is now Sir." The metallic voice continues. "We have the go-ahead for operations. Shuttle departure in 10 minutes. You and your squad will be there Lieutenant." Stalh says, "Yes Sir." into the comlink. Stalh glares to shenner and a lil' bit of malice is evident in his voice. "Ill be back to talk to you...and your...'Manager'. Be assured of it.' Grathix paces his brifcase upon his table, pops it open to reveal a compact computer terminal within its confines. Grathix withdraws a headset from the confines of his terminal, palces them aroud his ears and begins utilizing the terminal before him. Shenner eyes the blaster, then its wielder, and the kid's face stays quite neutral. "Knock yourself out," the redhead murmurs. Stalh stands from the table. "ill be seeing you around." Stalh replaces the blaster in his holster and stalks out, stopping momentarily at the man with a terminal. Stalh heads through crowds and into the Government District to the southeast. Stalh has left. Grathix rolls a 11 for his COMPUTER PROGRAMMING/REPAIR skill. An Average roll! Shenner's mouth makes something resembling a smile, but it's just as neutral as the rest of the kid's expression; that's the only farewell offered, as the redhead settles back into drinking the last of the cider. But as the Imperial officer strides off, the green gaze flicks after him, warily. Shenner slugs down the rest of the cider, then shoves the glass away, and brushes the flute slowly against the leg of her pants, almost as if afraid it had been soiled. The kid's pale brow furrows, then, doggedly, Shen rises, moving with the flute off towards the cluster of musicians pouring less-than-perfect but nevertheless enthusiastic music into the night. Grathix nods as he finishes fiddleing with his terminal. He replaces the headset into he c onfines of the case and closes the case back up. He grabs hold of his dark drink and sips at it lightly. Grathix sets his drink aside, stands, and walks off towards the residential district to a nearby hostel he heard so much about. ---------- Postlude: To Shenner's general relief, the rest of the night was reasonably uneventful... simply another evening of music-making, interspersed with dancing and drinking, and sometimes gaming, with the young beings with whom she'd taken up ever since they'd heard her play and sing in the Dome. No further Imperial or ESPO notice came her way, and she returned to her hostel unchallenged. But as she went, she watched her back.... [End log.]