Log Date: 2/22/97 Log Cast: Quick, Shenner, KuhnDog Log Intro: Bolstered by Grathix's offer of her very own ship upon successful completion of their job, Shenner has cheerfully thrown herself headlong in cultivating whatever audience she can from the populace of the capital city of Etti IV... while at the same time keeping an eye out for useful information, and ways to keep herself from coming to _too much_ attention, especially from Imperials and Espos.... ---------- Quick comes into the park from the west. Quick has arrived. Quick wanders down the road quite oblivious, "Hello... Miss?" Quick(#15786) is trying to get your attention! Quick looks at you for a moment. A nice day in the park this afternoon, pleasantly cool and sunny... almost perfect for the flutesong being put out by the lean, crop-haired kid parked on a bench, a silken cloth draped out in an open guitar case on the pavement. As you pass, the musician quirks a dark eyebrow but doesn't stop playing, not yet. Quick Before you stands a man who is late in his twenties and of medium build and medium height around six feet tall. His body is firm and tight from the long hours of fligt. His shoulder length, straight hair of brown with blonde highlights shows no signs of graying, but the oddity of his hair is that a single locke of the fringe is pure white. This hair frames a face that has seen many hours of work, it is young looking but has an age all its own the smoothness of his youth has been replaced somewhat with the firm lines of adulthood. His eyes are a deeper brown then his hair, though slightly tired looking, but shine with mirth and happiness. Quick wears a pair of slightly wrinkled and paint spattered light tan trousers. A white shirt covered by more paint speckles, his jacket has no paint on it but is seems to fit him none the less, with its dark tan coloring and its nerf hide color. His shoes are moccasin like leather shoes with a hard sole. Around his neck hangs a small chain with dog tags on it. Quick cocks his ear to the music and begins to sing an old song in his Alto voice. The redheaded flutist's dark brows crook, but apparently, this youngster's good enough with a flute that the sudden addition of a singing voice to the music causes no hardship. Unruffledly, the redhead slides the melody into a better key to fit the singing. Quick says, "Willow Willow, shed your tears... Willow, Willow cry for me tonight... My love is drowned in the river of dreams... and I'm losing my way down this hole of fears." Quick stops singing when a cough takes over his whole body, when its finished he says, "excuse me, Miss?" Shenner pauses, then, eyebrow still up, lowering the flute enough to say over it, "Oh, so you _were_ talkin' to me, pal?" The flutist's voice is low, tenorish. Quick grins, "I can see a woman from a mile away.. and your eyes give you away." Quick walks over a throws a credit into the open case, and says in a quiet voice, "I need to find somebody... and I know musicians see a lot that most ignore." Shenner's dark eyebrows stay quirked. The redhead doesn't miss a beat with the reply, "Folks say I got my mother's eyes, pal, no mystery there." One brow climbs a little higher. "Lotta people runnin' around. Anybody in particular you might be lookin' for?" Quick sits next to her and pulls out seven stones of multicolors, and he says very queitly, "The man I seek, is a friend..." Sitting crosslegged there, posture straight and slim, the redhead remains poised with the flute angled in skinny pale hands as if considering resuming playing it. The musician doesn't, however, and says instead, blandly, "And?" Quick chuckles, "Excuse me, we seem to be in a quite interesting situation... give me a minute. " Quick nods to himself, "The man I look for is a Athletic man around six feet tall, sandy hair, grey eyes.. a pilot." Green eyes neutral, perhaps a touch wary, the redhead just waits, rippling fingertips up and down the flute's holes. Description given, the reply comes at last, readily enough, "I mighta seen somebody like that; tough to say, pal, spaceports come chock fulla pilots. I don't see nobody like that on a regular basis, though." Quick says, "well, Hes quite a particular, He wears a uniform, with a Hawk patch on it." Quick throws another credit into the guitar case. Shenner's green gaze flicks to the second credit tossed; one shoulder rolls in a shrug, then, and the flutist says, "I don't know nothin' from nothin' 'bout uniforms, mind yah, pal. Don't get close enough to check no patches, if I can help it. What kinda uniform are we talkin' about here?" Quick leans over and whispers, "Caspar Marine Uniform, slate green with black spoltches its a flight suit. The flutist looks a trifle blank at the identification of the uniform type, but says after considering a moment, "Yeah, think I saw somebody like that. Once. Just once, though. At an outdoor cafe in the Port District." Shenner keeps that straight posture, and leans, ever so slightly, away. One of the Espos around the park looks over at the two sitting there and begins to walks over. KuhnDog comes into the park from the west. KuhnDog has arrived. Quick flips another coin in and stands up, "thank you for the chance to sing again Sir... I hope to see you again." Shenner smirks a bit, lopsidedly, but says blandly, "I busk here or in the Port District every day." The Espo stops and returns to his duty station. Quick nods, "Good day to you.. and maybe I'll return, " with this his eyes flash a warning to the young man. "Hope to see you again." KuhnDog leaves the park to the west. KuhnDog has left. Quick walks away with a wave and slight limp and walks out of the park. Quick leaves the park to the west. Quick has left. [And not too much later....] Quick has arrived. Quick walks down into the park and looks around. The redheaded musician is still on the bench, this time with the big guitar hoisted up out of the case and propped in 'his' -- her? -- lap. The kid's playing, fast-tempoed eighth notes interspersed with the occasional quarter, fingers sliding through glissandos at the end of every measure. He ferrets one hand into his pocket and pulls out a couple of creditnotes, tossing them into the guitar case with the coins as he offers a grin, watching you tune the instrument. Shenner, catching the movement, glances up; an audience again, then? The redhead straightens a bit, putting a bit more energy into the playing, though the green eyes return quickly to the strings, as if the youngster's having just a bit of difficulty keeping track of what fingers go where. Quick eyes the musician with a bit of curiosity, and pulls out his juggling stones and begins to juggle, "You should take a break you know... playing all day is painful." Shenner says promptly, "Had a break. Came back. Besides, I like it." Quick nods, "I like to paint myself, so I can understand where your coming from." Quick looks at you for a moment. Shenner smiles a bit, thinly, still working through the melody line being played. "Find your friend yet?" Quick shakes his head, "Nope.. by the way any fresh info?" "Can't say," the kid with the guitar replies blandly, "that I've seen anybody besides you and a bunch of Espos in the last few hours, pal." Quick nods, and adds a couple of credits to the mix of flying stones in his hands which he puts into a figure eight pattern. Shenner's eyebrows go up, and the chords off the guitar soften a bit as the kid watches this sleight-of-hand display, taken aback. Quick grins, as he flips the stones into a tighter loop and whirl them around him, "You like?" "Pretty good," the kid says at last, consideringly. Quick grins and amid the juggling the four credits fly out and land in the kids case, "anything more you can tell me would be appreciated." Shenner shrugs, lightly enough. "Well, I told yah what I know 'bout your friend, pal; ain't had time to learn nothin' else. Don't throw me credits for information I can't give yah." Quick chuckles, "call it a donation, from one wanderer to another... Just keep your eyes and ears open and you'll get more then that. I'll keep in touch thank you." Quick stops juggling and flips his stones up and catch them and walks back down the road. Quick leaves the park to the west. Quick has left. [End log.]