Log Date:
	2/4/97, 2/5/97

Log Cast:
	Shikh, Shenner, Silversand, Hei, Dillon, Xerxes, Kian, Grathix,
Chantinelle

Log Intro:
	Life for Shenner in the capital city of Etti IV has settled down
into a tense waiting game -- on the one hand waiting to see exactly
when her employer Grathix will finally get around to revealing the details
of the job for which she's been hired, and on the other, waiting to
see when the young Corellian she's met will cause her trouble, for
Shenner believes deep in her gut that she can't help but get trouble
from Shikh's acquaintance.
	As much as she can, Shenner takes refuge in the transients' hostel,
but the tiny closet of a room she's been renting goes only so long
before driving her back out into the streets anxious for space to act
and move....

----------
Shikh leans, arms crossed over his chest, against a shop, across the 
  street from an Espo squad. He eyes the squad warily and pretend to window 
  shop.
Shikh is seemingly window-shopping

Shenner emerges from the transients' hostel where 'he' has been spending the 
  last week or two, and heads out into the streets, padding intently in the 
  general direction of the Free-Flight Dance Dome.

Silversand makes his way into the Free-Flight Dance Dome.
Silversand has left.

Shikh narrows his eyes and turns around, scanning the street carefully. 
  Hegrins, seeing Shenner and waves to 'him'.

Hei makes his way into the Free-Flight Dance Dome.
Hei has left.

Shenner blinks once, greenly, seeing Shikh out on the street; the kid smiles 
  faintly, but ambles on directly to the Dome.

You enter the Free-Flight Dance Dome, ready for an enjoyable time.
Free-Flight Dance Dome - Capital City <ETTI IV>
    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:
Silversand
Dillon
Obvious exits:
 <OUT> leads to Port District - Capital City <ETTI IV>.

Shikh comes in from the street.
Shikh has arrived.

Dillon is sitting at a table near the band drinking a dark beverage.

Shikh follows Shenner in a mysterious look of curiousity on his face,

As if proposed by a small engine, the redheaded, greeneyed human kid arrows 
  into the Dome, stride quickening to match the pace of the band on stage. 
  Shenner heads directly for the dance floor, lean face intent.

Dillon takes a finally drink from his glass and finishes off the liquid. He 
  places the glass on the table and as soon as the two make contact, a waiter 
  is at Dillon's side placing another dark beverage in front of him.

Shikh slows as Shenner disappears onto the floor. He stops at the edge, 
  looking out into the chaos of anti-grav acrobatics, crossing his arms over 
  his chest.

Shenner grabs the railing around the floor, flings 'himself' over it, and is 
  promptly airborne, thin arms and long legs settling into a rhythmic writhing 
  to the music that speedily adds to the kid's altitude.

Silversand sits at the bar, looking on with much amusment, the people dancing.

Shikh cocks his head and blinks rather obtusely. He glances sideling at the 
  band, then looks back out into the dance field.

Evidently, the redhead has the hang of this antigrav dancing thing, and a few 
  of the dancers appear to have grown familiar with the young human's presence 
  in the air. Shenner gets a measure of unoccupied space in which to dance, 
  alone, concentration keeping that pale face sharply intent. From a distance, 
  the kid's mouth can be seen to be moving, as if in harmony with the band.

Dillon hands the waiter a few credits as the waiter takes the empty glass. He 
  looks out onto the dance floor for a moment and takes in the cacaphony of 
  colliding bodies and flailing appendages.

Shikh raises a brow and peers over the edge of the railing, fingers locked in 
  a white knuckled grip on the metal.

As the song continues, pouring a flood of sound through the Dance Dome's 
  projection systems, the dancers continue their acrobatics; among them, 
  moving with a sharpness and speed that almost suggests more than just 
  youthful energy being worked off, the redheaded kid carries on a 
  singlehanded battle with the music, occasionally punching and kicking at the 
  air, frequently spinning in place, on more than one axis.

Shikh grimaces, then looks to either side along the rail, teeth clenched.

Shenner stays aloft through that song and the next, slowly turning flushed of 
  cheek and sweat-beaded of brow, as the anti-grav exertion apparently 
  eventually begins to catch up with the youngster.

Shikh frowns and starts to relax, leaning on the railing, occasionally staring 
  down into its well-bottom generators.

Dillon glances down at his waatch and his eye's widen slightly in surprise. He 
  takes a quick drink from the glass, throws a few credits on the table, 
  stands up, and makes his way toward the exit.
Dillon exits and heads into the Port District.
Dillon has left.

At last, as the band takes a break, the redheaded kid drops back towards the 
  railing, mopping a skinny hand through moisture-darkened hair.

Shikh claps appreciatively, "Very cool..." he says through a wide grin.

Shenner grabs at the railing, blinking a bit distractedly at the hail. "Oh..." 
  With that, Shenner flips back over into normal gravity... and lands with a 
  *thud* of heels onto the floor. "Watching, were yah?

Shikh gestures toward the open air dance area, "Where'd you learn.. that?" he 
  wrinkles his nose up.

Shenner staggers a bit towards the nearest table, and smirks faintly, tiredly. 
  "Watching the others, mostly. And improvising..."

Shikh nods and pulls out a chair for the kid, "Multitalented..." he mutters, 
  and sits in a chair across from the one he pulled.

Shenner slumps into the chair in question, and glances across the table at the 
  young Corellian, smirk shifting into a bit of a grin. "And I'm not even done 
  growin' yet."

Shikh averts his eyes to the table and a sly grin spreads across his face, 
  "Tell me about it..." He gestures to a waiter who brings over a glass of 
  cool water for Shenner. Shikh smiles, "Drink up... you must be exhausted 
  after that display."

"That's the idea, pal," murmurs Shenner, but the redhead gratefully accepts 
  water, and upon receiving it, starts guzzling it energetically, pausing only 
  occasionally for breath.

Xerxes comes in from the street.
Xerxes has arrived.

Shikh nods, "Why are you so strung out?" He notices the water getting low, 
  "Another?" he points, indicating the emptying glass.

Xerxes snags a piece of bar after walking in. He leans forward mumbling 
  something to a bartender before turning to survey the room.

Shenner stretches where 'he' sits at the table, rubbing at one shoulder, and 
  eyeing Shikh across the table's surface. The other shoulder, the one that 
  the kid isn't rubbing, rolls in a shrug, and Shenner says, lowly, "Just 
  kinda stressed, mostly."

Shikh nods in sympathy, and turns his head to look out over the dance floor. 
  "Need more water?" he asks absently.

Shenner smiles tiredly. "Cider, if you wanna buy me something."

Shikh's face brightens a bit and he grins, off to one side. He nods and waves a 
  waiter over, "Get the kid whatever he wants."

Shenner flicks a crooked grin at Shikh, then repeats firmly to the water, 
  "Cider. Good stiff one."

Shikh chuckles at Shen's seriousness in ordering the waiter around

Shenner, upon obtaining cider, settles back to nurse it steadily down.

Shikh straightens up in his chair, then tips it back on two legs, crossing his 
  arms over his chest, "Why so quiet?"

Shenner looks up from the cider, stopping for breath in between swallows. The 
  kid's mouth quirks. "Hopin' to hear me talk?"

----------
Interlude:

	Evidently, Shikh _did_ hope to hear her talk. The thought troubled
Shenner, and after skydancing off her excess energy -- and muddling the rest
with the Dome's stiff cider -- she found it difficult to keep a grip on
her tongue. Somehow she managed it, but even as she and Shikh parted
company that night, she found herself suspecting that he knew she wasn't
telling him something, and that he was determined to find out what.
	The thought kept her troubled even into the next morning, as she
returned to the park to busk....

----------
Shikh comes into the park from the west.
Shikh has arrived.
Shikh strolls into the park, hand brushing through his hair. He looks around, 
  especially at a certain bench...

That bench is, in fact, occupied by the tenant who has claimed it for the past 
  week and a half: the redheaded flute player. Shenner isn't playing at the 
  moment, though; the kid appears to be engaged in studying a little datapad 
  in 'his' lap, while holding the flute and lifting and dropping fingertips 
  along its holes in soundless patterns.

Shikh looks sidelong at the Espos, then breaks into a brisk jog, straight for 
  the bench. As quietly as possible, he runs up and takes a flying leap, 
  landing on the corner of the bench, "Good afternoon!" He yells at the top of 
  his lungs, a wicked grin on his face.

The Espos brandish their rifles and aim at Shikh, eyes glaring as they realize 
  he's just being a nuisance.

Shenner jumps, quite startled, and drops the flute, to leave it landing with a 
  dull clatter against the datapad. "Don't _do_ that!" the kid yelps, 
  breathlessly, a moment later.

Shikh cringes and retrieves the flute, turning it over as he examines it, 
  "Keep your voice down... you'll wake the troops..." he grins, slyly watching 
  the Espos grumblingly return to their posts, each giving him nasty looks.

The flute appears unharmed, its dark, dappled surface and green binding cord 
  unperturbed by the brief collision with Shenner's lap and datapad. It's a 
  pretty thing, longer than Shenner's forearm; that forearm shoots out, 
  though, for the flute, as the kid says, "I could give you the same advice, 
  pal."

Shikh surrenders the flute easily, "Just looking it over, Shen..." He shrugs 
  off the guards, "What'll they do, shoot me?" He asks, a fearless grin on his 
  face, as if daring the single Espo still eyeing him to act.

Shenner snorts, but smiles thinly, perhaps amused. "Hadn't I mentioned? Gonna 
  circulate a petition to get a law passed against startling street bards."

Shikh chuckles, "Well, I'll believe it when I see it... I doubt anything could 
  cut through the red tape they've got here in short of a millenium..."

Shenner punches a key on the datapad, making it scroll the contents of its 
  little screen, while inquiringly blandly, "You've tried?"

Shikh shakes his head, "Just about housing, and permits for my pistols..." he 
  explains, patting the lethal looking lumps of destruction at his hips.

Shenner returns the flute to the place it'd held in 'his' hands before, poised 
  as if for play, though Shenner doesn't lift it to 'his' mouth. Occasionally 
  glancing at the datapad and tapping out fingerings on the instrument, the 
  redhead huhs. "Bet you had more tape to cut through than I did for a buskin' 
  permit, then."

Shikh shrugs, "Probably... " he concedes. "Got myself a pretty nice place 
  though, and I am carrying my babies..." he smiles.

"Look like," Shenner says dryly, "a coupla temperamental kids."

Shikh shakes his head, smiling, "Nah... they're angels, never even tried to 
  crawl out of their cribs..."

You say, "Doting father, are you?"

Shikh shrugs, "Guess so."

Shenner's mouth quirks up on the left side into a grin of sorts. "Well, you 
  look more like a bodyguard now."

Shikh raises a brow, then winces, "That bad?" he asks, then chuckles, 
  dismissing the question.
Shikh sighs, turning from Shenner to watch the people walking the park, "Maybe 
  I'll retire them... er, one of them then, least for a while."

Shenner gives a bit of a shrug. "Well, if it's what you wanna do, I mean, 
  guess you _need_ to look like you mean business." The kid's voice remains 
  casual, green gaze still fixed on the datapad, slim fingers moving through a 
  sequence on the flute's holes.

Shikh nods, "Yeah, figured I should seem equipped when I went in for 
  interviews..." he shrugs.

You say, "How's the job hunt doin', then?"

Shikh shakes his head, "Not well so far... Haven't gotten any callbacks."

Shenner smiles a bit, distractedly, most attention on the datapad. Is the kid 
  trying to focus on it, or just bad at small talk? Difficult to tell.

Shikh quirks his lips to one side and shrugs slightly, having nothing really 
  important to say.

Kian comes into the park from the west.
Kian has arrived.
Kian looks at you for a moment.

Kian
        The long, ruffled and fluffy red hair of this tiny human boy hangs 
  like a split curtain over his white brow and the wide blue eyes, sparkling 
  brightly with a mixture of curiosity, candour and lust for life. The small, 
  sooty nose, covered by a galaxy of freckles, sits in the middle of his 
  mischievous, yet still innocent young face like a black button, just waiting 
  to be pressed and make the child's full, serious lips smile, the strong, 
  pale blue vein pulse between his eyebrows in the beat of his heart.
        Kian looks even a bit smaller still than he is in his clothes: a light 
  white shirt, hanging loose almost down to his knees, is covered by a 
  shorter, grey cloak with elbow-long, wide sleeves, and with huge patches and 
  arrays of `hold-just-anything` pockets all over. The tight pants, made of 
  the same grey material that contrasts wildly with the child's gnomish red 
  head, end up tucked into low, travelling black boots, and hanging across 
  Kians lap, there's a black pouch with an old, ragged wookiee doll grinning 
  at you.

Kian walks into the park with a big paper bag of chocolate candies and a smug 
  little grin, mixed up with an off-tune whistle.

Shenner, parked crosslegged on one of the park benches, eyes the figure of a 
  tall fellow with blasters as the man gets up from that same bench, and 
  saunters off across the walkways, heading back towards the Residential 
  district. The redheaded human remains, a flute held in lean hands, a datapad 
  in that crosslegged lap; green eyes track Shikh's departure, before Shenner 
  lets out a breath and returns to study.

Kian stops for a moment, twin sparks of curiosity in his vivid eyes, watching 
  the scene with a twitch of a nose, then calmy unwraps a candy and eats it 
  with a smile of primal pleasure.
Kian blinks a staccato.

The lanky youth on the bench at last lifts the flute, blowing through it 
  slowly in the beginnings of a song -- clearly one that's unfamiliar to the 
  musician, for the green gaze keeps to the datapad, perhaps following 
  information there.

Kian tilts a bit to the left, then to the right, like a little clown boy, 
  which he is, with all that chocolate on his lips, and shines a sunny smile. 
  He steps towards Shenner, in a careless, springy pace, eating another 
  chocolate at that.

Shenner's green gaze lifts, as the redhead appears to register the presence of 
  another audience, at least of sorts. The left side of the young musician's 
  mouth quirks up over the mouthhole of the flute, and Shenner shifts from the 
  previous song into a clearly more familiar ditty, something airy and light 
  of tempo.

Kian licks his lips with a satisfied smack, quirks an eyebrow into something 
  incomprehensible, and the vein in his pale brow pulses in excitement, almost 
  in the rhytem of the music... He stops whistling himself and seems to be 
  listening very carefully, his clear childish eyes sharper and sharper, bluer 
  and bluer with every tone.

Ah. An _attentive_ audience, even if a small one. Shenner keeps playing, one 
  eyebrow quirked, keeping an eye on the kid throughout the melody. The 
  flute's voice, given added breath, comes out mellow and earthy and rich, 
  sweeter as the song lifts into higher registers.

Kian suddenly stops listening, his shifty, short-living attention fluttering 
  away like a butterfly, his smile changes back into a naughty grin, his nose 
  twitching impishly again. He picks up a little pebble, quite sure that the 
  musician is too occupied by his music to notice, and starts weighing it in 
  his hand, a set of wicked devils dancing in his azure gaze.
Kian launches his pebble into the tree just above the musician... Hidden to 
  everyone but Kian's eyes there's a squirrel sitting on the branch, 
  distracted heavily by the pebble that misses her just for an inch or two 
  (deliberately, maybe?), she jumps up in fear and shock, then lands directly 
  into Shenner's lap, still squealing.

Shenner is up in a flash, hand moving off the flute to the squirrel, flinging 
  it away forcefully.

Kian laughs and giggles and chuckles, everything in the same breath, actually 
  almost chokes on it. "Wow," he squeezes through his tears and giggles, "that 
  was something."

Shenner, as the squirrel scurries off, glowers at the child, before moving to 
  retrieve the dropped datapad and make sure the thing hasn't been damaged.

Kian stops giggling and smiles innocently, from ear to ear. "You're not angry, 
  are you?" he chirps.

The datapad bleeps its status as the redheaded flute player pokes it. Then, 
  disgruntledly, the musician pockets the thing, before glancing over at the 
  smaller human. "I'll letcha know if I get foamsickness from the little 
  beast," comes the reply, along with a smirk.

Kian blinks and nods, enthusiastically. "Okay... But do it, really... I've 
  never seen anyone having foamsickness before."

Shenner next inspects the flute to make sure that squirrel's teeth or claws 
  didn't damage it, and only upon finding the instrument unharmed does the 
  musician's green glower relax. Slightly. The youth eyes the watching kid, 
  gives a narrow smile, and replies, "You wouldn't like it. I'd go mad, get 
  all foamy at the mouth, and I'd probably then bite you and give it to YOU, 
  too, and then the Espos would have to shoot us both."

Kian frowns and ponders a little bit on the subject, closing an eye to think 
  better, then glows with a know-better smile. "Maybe... Though I don't think 
  foamsickness would do much to *me*."

Grathix comes into the park from the west.
Grathix has arrived.
Grathix strolls into the park area.

Shenner snorts once, settling back down on the bench, keeping half an eye on 
  the kid and half on rearranging the silken cloth lying on the bench. "Got a 
  comprehensive medical plan, do yah, kid?"

Grathix walks over to a path within the large everegreen trees.

Kian nodnods, with a cheerful blush. "Of course." He chuckles, like if someone 
  opened a water tap. For a moment. Then he talks on. "The clue is in kicking 
  every disease's butt as soon as it wants to come close to you. Simple, huh?" 
  His grin looks almost misterious.

"Kicked the behinds of many sicknesses, have yah?" The redheaded flutist 
  resumes the crosslegged stance on the bench, after scarfing up the single 
  credit that had been lying there and ferreting it away into a vest pocket.

Kian nods vividly enough to shake his flaming hair into further mess. "Oh yes, 
  about a dozen of them... Anyway, that was long ago and they learned 
  better... Noone had dared to come close for some time since then."
Kian chuckles again, he seems to like this sort of expression. This time, it's 
  pitch is higher, and the color softer.

Shenner drawls, "Impressive," while settling back against the bench, to run 
  soundlessly through a few fingerings on the flute.

Grathix reaches the end of the Evergreen path. He stops standing before the 
  last Evergreen tree, scanning the inner rim of the park.

Kian smirks. "Not really... It's even easier than it sounds." And his 
  attention is off again, his blue eyes pinpointing the tall man walking 
  through the park on the other side. He turns his nose up, curiously, and 
  follows the man with his restless gaze.

Grathix bends down, placing his briefcase before him on the floor. He opens it 
  up and retrieves a small metallic object from its confines. He fiddles with 
  something on the object. He stands and casually sticks the object into the 
  tree. The object sliding easily in, for when Grathix removes his hand, no 
  trace of it can be seen.
Grathix bends over to hs briefcase again and retrieves a black glove. He 
  slides this glove over his right hand.

By contrast to the smaller redheaded human, Shenner by all appearances remains 
  focused on the flute, putting a bit more sound through it as those slim pale 
  fingers keep up with their motions along the instrument's holes.

Grathix closes up the briefcase, stand to his full height and resumes to walk 
  towards the inner irm of the park, amongst the large Oaks.

Kian frowns, rising to stand on the tips of his toes to see better. "Um..." he 
  mumbles, giving Shenner a dubious glance, "any idea why the darkman 
  overthere is sticking pins into trees?" he chirrups in a low voice.

Grathix continues along the path of the oaks heading towards the center of the 
  park.

Shenner lifts an eyebrow, sliding a sidelong glance off in the direction the 
  kid appears to mean. "Not a hint," comes the bland reply.

Carmine comes into the park from the west.
Carmine has arrived.

Shenner settles back down into playing, this time something liquid and slow.

Kian picks his nose, watching Grathix as carefully and intensely as a cat 
  waiting for its prey. "Hum." he says after a moment. "Hum." And watches. "I 
  guess I'll go and ask him, huh?" He looks down at Shenner, almost sort of 
  mockingly, "I guess you won't come with me, so you just stay here and play."

Carmine walks into the park, with his slow ambling pace. His large tongue 
  flaps in the air, tail wagging

Shenner smiles narrowly across the flute. "You do that, kid; I'm buskin'," 
  comes the response, a brief interruption of words in the music.

Grathix makes his way towards the center monument in the park. He stands 
  before it, inspecting it.

Kian puts his bag of candies into his pocket, and heads directly towards 
  Grathix, careless and seemingly ignorant about everything, including the 
  fact that his path is soon to collide with Carmine's.

Grathix strolls aout to the side of the statue, looking at it intensely from 
  this perspective as well.

Carmine yelps and bristles up, seeming to grow to twice his size. He growls 
  and his mouth runs a steady flow of saliva as he slowly advances on Kian.

Shenner jerks up 'his' head, and pauses in the middle of the song, to call 
  sharply, "Yo. Kid. Watch it!"

Grathix, at the sound of the voice turns around abruptly to see what the 
  commotion is all about.

Carmine gets distracted by Shenner's outburst. He forgets about the klutzy 
  Kian and ambles over to the bench where Shenner plays, sitting and 
  scratching behind his ears.

Shenner eyes the dog warily, evaluating its approach and its mood.

Kian stops and turns around to look at Carmine walking away, there's a twitch 
  of a grin on his lips. "Oh... A dog. He likes to fight?" he chuckles at 
  Shenner.

"Damned if I know, kid," says the musician. "But he was snarling at you. Pay a 
  little more attention."

Carmine growls, almost as an after thought, then hops up on the bench beside 
  Shenner.

Kian blinks and gives Carmine almost menacing a gaze. "Snarling?" He giggles, 
  then turns away and goes on. "Better not be snarling at me."

Grathix, seeing the commotion end, turns his attention back to the statue.

Carmine barks at the snotty kid, then rests his head on Shenner's lap

Shenner smirks. "I suppose you go whipping on the behinds of dogs as well as 
  sicknesses?" the redhead drawls lazily, though the green gaze remains on the 
  canine. Especially when the dog's head moves in like that; Shenner's dark 
  eyebrows both go up.

Kian walks very quietly and stops behind Grathix, ignoring Carmine completely. 
  Just a few inches behind the dark man's back, he coughs. "Um..." he says. 
  "Hello there."

Carmine looks up at Shenner with surprisingly good-natured eyes, then moves 
  his head slightly and closes them.

Shenner, remaining poised there with flute in hands and canine head in lap, 
  stares down at the beast, brow furrowed. "You want something, hound?"

Grathix tilts his head slightly and observes the youth. He briefly nods and 
  continues observing the statue. He moves to get a better look of the statue 
  from behind.

Kian turns to look at Shenner and the dog, watching them for a quiet, friendly 
  moment, they're such a pleasing sight. Then he shoots a naughty gaze at the 
  musician. "Whipping?" he grins, "nah... Biting is better for the dogs..." 
  And, quite surprisingly, his meek cheerful face changes and shifts, he shows 
  his shining white teeth, below the evil curl of his lips and storming eyes, 
  and he growls with a voice about five times bigger than himself.

Carmine rolls his huge eyes over toward Kian andsnuffs, then relaxes again and 
  lolls his tongue out of his mouth.

Kian then looks away as if nothing happened, smiles curiously at Grathix. "Why 
  did you put that thing into the tree?" he asks directly and plainly, in 
  almost a serious tone.

Grathix turns his gaze toward the kid. His eyes linger upon him before he 
  speaks.
Grathix says, "oota oaol goota ooota goota guoor" in Rodian.

Kian blinks and hums, somewhat shaken. "Um... you don't want to speak basic, 
  or you don't speak basic?"

Carmine perks up for no reason and stands, shaking off his short rest. He 
  takes one look at Shenner, then jumps down and half-runs over to the fountain

Grathix gives the kid one last look then return his attention on the statue.

Shenner eyes the dog. .oO (Well, okay, if it's not inclined to go chomping off 
  any portions of my anatomy, I don't care what it's doing....) When the 
  creature hops up and runs off, Shenner stretches, then crinkles 'his' 
  fine-boned nose at the further disarray the dog had dealt the credit-cloth 
  spread out on the bench.

Kian narrows his eyes, being ignored is *not* what he's used to. "Alright," he 
  says with a smirk that promises anything but honey flower and milk. "I'll 
  ask someone else what you did..." And he turns away, striding back towards 
  Shenner.

Carmine breaks into a run and jumps up oto the containing wall of the fountain 
  beside Grathix. He looks up at the man with large blinking eyes, then into 
  the fountain, and growls lowly at his reflection

Grathix adjust the glove on his right hand.

Kian plops down on Shenner's bench with an offended pout in his face and the 
  vein in his brow beating wildly. "People got no manners today," he growls, 
  then his mood shifts again and he chuckles. "No matter. I'll find out my own 
  way."

Grathix nods to himself as he finishes his 'evaluation' of the statue.
Grathix says, "guoor wroota oong guoor oaol" in Rodian.

Shenner gives a thin smirk, and remarks, "I ain't exactly courtly either, 
  squirt. Can't help yah in the manners department."

Carmine pants from his run and leans forwardinto the fountain, lapping up 
  water sloshingly

Grathix looks upon the canine, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Kian swings his feet in a totally careless fashon, he seems to have forgotten 
  about Grathix business already. "Manners?" he repeats, and there's a giggle 
  that would make a dead man's skin go turkey. "Manners? Who ever said 
  anything about manners? What are manners, anyway?"
Kian produces his bag of chocolates and eats three before you could say 
  "cookie."

Eyeing the strange boy with about the same level of wariness accorded the dog, 
  Shenner shrugs laconically, resuming playing, this time a practice sequence 
  of a minor scale in eighth notes.

Kian pulls up his feet and squeezes his knees to his chest, rocking to and fro 
  on his heels. "Ever tried something out of this eight dingos?"

Grathix walks past the dog and begins to make his way towards the redhaired 
  flute player.

Carmine sniffs and hops down from the fountain, attracted by the sound of the 
  flute. He heads over to the bench again, and hop up on the far side of 
  Shenner from Kian.

Kian turns his head towards Carmine and smiles sincerely. "Hey, doggy doggy 
  doggy," he twitters childishly, "what a nice doggy. Heya boy, why don't you 
  come on here, huh?" He takes out a chocolate from his bag and tosses it to 
  the rottweiler.

Carmine cocks his head at the boy strangely, then steps heavily on Shenner's 
  lap reaching across for the chocolate. He snaps at it greedily, barely 
  missing Kian's fingers.

Kian chuckles. "Hey, you're a snatchy little dog. Have another one," he offers 
  the dog his little palm with two chocolates already melting on.

Grathix places his hand in his pants pocket as he closes in on Shenner's 
  location.

Shenner pauses, and says wearily, "C'mon, kid, hound, I'm tryin' to play here."

Carmine lolls his tongue out, then licks the melty chocolate off the boy's hand

Grathix looks at the the flute player and nods solemly, all the while walking 
  slowly past 'him'. He takes out his hand from his pocket at tosses a couple 
  of credits towards 'him'.

Carmine lolls his tongue out, then licks the melty chocolate off the boy's 
  hand the hard way

Kian giggles and flickers his eyes mischievously, patting Carmine's snout in 
  the process, softly. "Play? Why don't you choose another place for playing, 
  this one seems to be occupied by a dog and a kid."

Carmine starts to make a hweezy sound and paws his way back over Shen's legs, 
  jumping down from the bench

Kian ers. "Only by a kid, now."

Carmine stomps around uneasily, then whines strangely, stopping at Kian's feet.

Shenner, flanked by a kid on one side and a dog on the other side, blinks at 
  the toss of the credits. When they land near the bench, the musician can't 
  fetch them, pinned there by the dog's weight -- at least until the dog 
  moves. "I was here first, runt, and I got a permit to play here. Bite me," 
  the youth finishes rudely.

Kian chuckles. And is somehow not sitting anymore, but standing beside the 
  bench, although it's difficult to say what was in between the states. 
  Something fuzzy, anyway. "And the kid is leaving." He kneels down and gives 
  Carmine another friendly pat.

The coins land upon Shenner's cloth, some slightly stained with a crimson 
  liquid.

Grathix walks past, making his way back to the residential area.

Shenner, however, at the dog's behavior, frowns at it, distracted now.

Carmine makesa strange face and a retching sound, then paws at his muzzle, 
  pressing his face against the ground

Shenner utters an oath, hastily putting the flute and the credit-cloth out of 
  the way, and getting quickly up. "Flaming karkin'... now what?" Green eyes 
  flick over the dog.

Kian grins up at the musician. "By the way, I am not a rump. I am Kian. See, 
  simple enough." Another (sort of) irritating chuckle. Then, when Shenner 
  gets angry, stands up and watches him calmly. "What's up?"

Carmine paws at Kian's leg, and whines hoarsely, peering at him with widely 
  opened eyes, displaying lots of white.

Grathix leaves the park to the west.
Grathix has left.

Carmine follows Grathix's departure with emotionless interest, lowering his 
  head back onto his paws as he disappears from sight.

Shenner seems to ignore the kid, kneeling next to the hound, 'his' pale brow 
  furrowing. "What is it, mutt?" the musician asks gruffly, somewhat less 
  snide of tone than before.

Carmine
        A VERY large, scarred rottweiler wearing a spiked leather collar 
  stares back at you, a low growl issuing from his throat.

Carmine whines again, his tongue licking his jaws rapidly.

Kian seems to get worried a little bit himself and kneels down again, studying 
  the dog closely. "Hey, doggie," he pats Carmine's head, "what's up with 
  you?" His voice has changed, again, is soft and soothing now.

Shikh comes into the park from the west.
Shikh has arrived.

Carmine raises his head off his paws and growls a low warning at Shikh, as if 
  to say, 'Keep away from my spot.'

Kian picks up a crimson-stained credit and studies it, brow furrowing.

"The mutt's sick," Shenner barks, getting to booted feet and looking around 
  urgently now. "Oughtta be somebody we can call..." The musician's green eyes 
  narrow a little at the sight of the nearest of the Espos on patrol, but, 
  resolutely, the youth calls out, "Hey, you! Buddy!"

Carmine raises his head off his paws and growls a low warning at Shikh, as if 
  to say, 'Keep away from my spot.'

Kian brings the credit to his nose and smells at it, sniffling like a cat. 
  "This isn't strawberry juice."

Carmine heaves a bit, but doesn't bring anything up. He produces a pitiful 
  whining sound and curls up on the ground

Shikh walks heavily into the park, hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun.

Kian runs his hands up and down Carmine's back, comforting the dog with quiet, 
  incomprehensible words, soft and calm.

The Espo shoulders his rifle and walks over to Shenner, Kian, and the dog. 
  "What seems to be the trouble here?"

Shenner scowls, turning back to the ailing dog. "What?" comes a tenorish bark
  at Kian, even as Shenner crouches carefully by the animal, intending to search
  it for a collar or an ID tag or _something_.

Shikh notices one of the Espos headed over to a couple kids crouched down on 
  the ground, recognizing red, he heads over, concern painted over his facial 
  landscape.

The responsive Espo sees Shikh and draws off strangely, remanning his post as 
  if nothing had happened.

Shikh stands tall over the two kids, "What's up, Shen?" He nods to Kian, not 
  recognizing him.

Shenner blinks, looking up at the Corellian, startledly. "Um. Dog's sick." A 
  slim hand flicks at the curled-up Carmine. "You know a vet, pal?"

Kian looks up from the dog, into Shikh's eyes. There are seeds of rage in his 
  face, his red lips puckered into a frown. "He poisoned the dog. I know."

Shikh frowns and kneels beside the dog, "Damnit, Carmine... I warned you about 
  sneaking off..." He rubs the dog's stomach consolingly, "Did he eat anything 
  wierd, either of you know?"

Carmine licks Shikh's hand and his tail begining to wag.

Shenner blinks, first at the younger redhead, then at the dog, and finally at 
  Shikh. "Wait... this is _your_ dog?"

Kian then blinks.
Kian remembers and ums.
Kian swallows hard and looks down at Carmine apologetically. "Er... How was I 
  supposed to know you're allergic to chocolate?"

Shikh nods, "Yeah... been with me for years..." He pets the dog lovingly, 
  "Rescued him from some barbaric underground fighting circuit, called him 
  mine ever since."

Kian smiles sheepishly. And gives the stained credit to Shikh. "And I guess 
  this *is* strawberry juice after all."

Shikh looks at Kian with disbelief, "Chocolate?" He shakes his head, "You're 
  in deep..." he trails off, not wanting to offend the kids. "He'll be 
  alright, really... don't worry about it." To Carmine he admonishes, "You 
  know better than that, Carm..."

Shenner eyes Kian narrowly, then takes the credit and goes ahead and pockets 
  it, then says to Shikh, "You can take care of 'em, then, I guess. If you got 
  a vet or something."

Shikh shakes his head, "I don't, but I'll see what I can do..." He seems 
  worried.

Kian bites his index finger and looks up at Shikh again, blushing a little 
  bit. "I am sorry, you see..." He recollects himself a moment later, and he 
  frowns. "At least he'll learn... He shouldn't be eating things that are bad 
  for him..."

Shikh nods, "Yeah... and you too, will know not to give it to him next time, I 
  mean."

Xerxes comes into the park from the west.
Xerxes has arrived.

Shenner puts in, folding up the credit cloth, "Look, boys, not to interrupt 
  the morality lesson, but shouldn't the dog be tended?"

Shikh is kneeling with Shenner and Kian, around something hidden from view on 
  the ground.
Shikh nods solemnly, "Yes, but there isn't too much I can do..."

Xerxes walks casually into the park, seemingly out to enjoy the fresh air...

Kian nods and shrugs at the same time, standing up. "I guess so... Unless I 
  forget about it, that is... I am... er... forgetful... " There goes another 
  sheepish, innocent smile.

Sounding faintly impatient -- out of concern? Naaaaaaaah -- Shenner demands of 
  Shikh, "Does this nardling city have any animal medics in it?"

Shikh shrugs, his hand still rubbing th dog's growling stomach, "No... I don't 
  know... Only been here a week or two."

Xerxes, upon seeing the small clutch of people, moves to the other side of the 
  path to avoid them.

Kian blinks and smiles, almost relieved. "Eh..." He chuckles a bit. "You don't 
  need a vet for that... He'll be alright in half an hour. Dogs have very 
  strong immunity systems."

Xerxes continues on, taking a seat a bit removed from the anxious kids.

Carmine suddenly jumps up and grumbles, then cocks his head and wags his tail 
  at Shikh.

Kian giggles at the dog. "Puke, Carmine, puke... Makes you better, you know."

Shikh looks at the dog strangely, backing away, he raises a brow, "I'd move 
  back if I were you, Shen, er... and whoever you are..."

Carmine turns toward Kian, cocks his head, then grumbles, a sound from deep 
  inside that slowly makes its way out.

Shenner scrambles up and out of the way, hands grabbing at 'his' carisak and 
  flute and credit-cloth.

Kian looks at Shikh, then at Carmine, then makes a swift sidestep out of 
  Carmine's way... Especially any possible Carmine's puke's way.

Xerxes shakes his head, overhearing this discourse. He pulls out a Data Pad 
  and begins scrolling, trying not to pay attention.

Carmine shudders and his eyes squeeze closed, then he explodes, spewing up 
  almost a gallon of nasty smelling, now brown-colored prechewed leftovers.

Shenner utters a pungent oath, face crinkling in disgust.

Kian rolls on the ground, laughing.

Carmine shakes it off and wags his tail, then goes running off toward home, 
  leaving the trio of well-wishers behind.
Carmine leaves the park to the west.
Carmine has left.

Shenner stares balefully at the puddle of dog spew, quite close to the bench 
  'he' _had_ been busking on. "Well," the redhead says dryly, "chocolate 
  doesn't kill dogs. Learn somethin' new every day."

Shikh eyes the pool of 'stuff' warily, "We better get scarce before the Espos 
  figure out what happened and make us clean it up..." he murmurs quietly.

Kian stands up after having a good thorough laugh, and without bothering to 
  clean up his clothes, still letting an occasional escapee chuckle here and 
  there, looks at Shen. "You see, you can't kick diseases' butts if dog's puke 
  disgusts you..."

"Don't have to tell me twice," the musician murmurs to Shikh, then snorts at 
  the kid's mark; without turning, Shenner tosses back over one shoulder, 
  "I'll leave the job of wrestling the spew to you, squirt." And with that, 
  the youth strides off, shouldering the battered carisak, and slipping the 
  flute into its carry-sheath.

[Shenner heads off to the Dome...]

You enter the Free-Flight Dance Dome, ready for an enjoyable time.
Free-Flight Dance Dome - Capital City <ETTI IV>
    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:
Chantinelle
Silversand
Obvious exits:
 <OUT> leads to Port District - Capital City <ETTI IV>.

Silversand looks at you for a moment.
Silversand looks over from the bar, seeing Shenner enter.

Shenner, scowling in faint irritation, stalks into the place, and starts 
  scanning around for an out of the way table.

Xerxes comes in from the street.
Xerxes has arrived.
Xerxes walks up to the bar, an obvious scowl of distaste apparent on his face. 
  He leans forward, mumbling something to the bartender.

The bartender arrives with a drink for Xerxes. After accepting it, he takes a 
  seat at the bar, focussed only on his beverage.

Shenner plunks down at an unoccupied table, slumps into the chair, and mutters 
  curses at the general direction of the table's surface.

Kian comes in from the street.
Kian has arrived.

Chantinelle looks at the newcomer and smiles at Kian, she waves friendly at 
  him.
Chantinelle moves through the crowd and joins you at your table.
Chantinelle nods to Silversand, "Greetings."

Kian blinks to get used to the new light. Spotting Chantinelle, he waves back 
  with a grin. "Hey there."

Flagging down a waitroid, Shenner grumbles out an order involving "a good 
  stiff cider"; upon receiving it, the redhead settles down to nurse it, 
  broodily.

Chantinelle sighs and murmurs, "The Youths starts now earlier to drink 
  alcohol." and sips slowly at her mineral water.

Kian puts on a nasty, crocodile grin upon noticing the musician, and he pushes 
  his hands deep into his pockets, descending down terace after terace towards 
  him. "Oh, whom do I see," he fakes surprise, blue eyes itching with 
  mischief, "a squirt, or something."

"Bigger squirt than you, infant," Shenner growls over the top of the cider mug.

Chantinelle waves to Silversand to invite him to her table while she starts 
  chuckling seeing Kian and Shenner.

Kian chuckles, endlessly amused by Shenner's grumpyness. "Oh yes? How much 
  bigger, that is? And in what way? Fatter? A bigger gump?"

Chantinelle chuckles and sips slowly at her water.

Shenner's upper lip curls in a sneer. This, and a sardonic, "You wanna bait 
  me, kid, grow up first," is the only response the redhead offers.

Kian giggles again, undisturbed, and hops to sit down on Shenner's table, 
  dangling his feet carelessly down into the depths of arena. "Bait you? Grow 
  up? I thought smaller baits were better for such big fish as you are."

Chantinelle can't control herself and starts laughing, spitting her drink over 
  the table. She blushes at once ashamed and sorries.

Kian leans back on his hands and winks at Chantinelle, in the same time 
  already chatting on. "You shouldn't think of yourself as being too big... 
  The bigger you are, the less stable you are... Might make you dizzy, once, 
  and pfeeeewww, off you go..." He looks down towards the arena. "You're lucky 
  there's no gravity there, though."

Shenner smiles mirthlessly at the younger redhead, and drawls, "Been up there 
  already. It doesn't bother me."

Kian chuckles, drumming a cheerful beat at the table with his feet. "Is there 
  a reason why you are so bitter? Eat less lemons, more sugar... Here..." he 
  offers Shenner his bag of chocolate candies. "This will make your smile 
  sweeter."

Chantinelle calms down and sips again at her drink, thinking about her youth 
  and sighs.

Shenner glances at the kid, then at his offering, then smiles narrowly. 
  "Sorry, kid, you ain't gonna see me spew like that dog."

Kian smirks calmly and eats a fistful of candies himself, then. "Your 
  problem... I am not puking, but if you're stomach is made of paper, then you 
  should most certainly watch what you eat."

"I'm sure," Shenner drawls sardonically, "I'll manage somehow."

With his voice even calmer than before (actually, a bit freezin now), Kian 
  smiles. "No, you won't. You'll just die like the rest of us."

Chantinelle turns around at Kian, "Hey kid, why saying this? Nobody dies 
  here!."

Kian winks. "Sooner or later." And looks at Chantinelle. "Didn't really mean 
  *here*."

Chantinelle oohs and nods slowly, "Well this is right, sorry." and turns back 
  to her drink.

Shenner drinks cider, eyes Kian warily over the rim of the mug, then says 
  blandly, "Regular junior philosopher."

Kian turns to Shenner with a giggle and pokes the musician's nose with his
  finger. "Bleep," he says, "no philosopher. I just took a job of being an
  angel. I have to make everyone happy, especially you."

Shenner's dark eyebrows climb, but the musician doesn't blink or alter 
  position in the chair, or the hold 'he' has on the cider mug. "Yeah? To what 
  do I owe the honor?" The stress on the last word suggests the redhead finds 
  it a dubious honor at best.

Chantinelle sips at her mineral water.

Kian picks his nose and turns away from Shenner, turning his attention at the 
  dancers in the center of the dome, again. "Well, you're the grimiest person 
  I've ever met," he says, and it's obvious he's lost most of the interest in 
  the conversation already.

Chantinelle whistles quietly the imperial march while she leans back in her 
  booth, puts the feet onto the table and crosses her arms behind her head.

Shenner, plainly, is interested in cider, and keeps drinking it, letting the 
  younger human's attention wander where it will.

Kian jumps off the table, stretches and yawns. "You're hopeless."

Chantinelle turns to Kian, "Hey, keep polite to the Miss."

Kian blinks, somewhat shaken, and studies Shen with a puzzled glance. "Um... 
  you're a miss?"

Shenner's eyes narrow just a bit, flicking off to the woman across the way, 
  before returning to the inquisitive kid. "Do I look like a girl to you, kid?"

Kian shrugs. "Beats me." And yawns again. "Wouldn't care either." He smiles, 
  sleepily. "Anyway, I do hope you get better."

Chantinelle umms and blushes again slightly, she turns her head and looks 
  deeply into her glasss.

Kian then turns and half walks, half skips towards the exit, winking a goodbye 
  at Chantinell while on the way.

Shenner smiles narrowly, unhelpfully failing to elaborate on the question of 
  gender, and returning to the cider.

Chantinelle nods to Kian, "Take care."

Kian exits and heads into the Port District.
Kian has left.

Chantinelle looks after Kian and sighs, turning to Shenner, "this boy really 
  knows life!"

Xerxes turns in his seat, pitching his voice to carry, "The boy is a 
  loud-mouthed brat."

Chantinelle oohs astonished, "No Mr, I don't believe this! Why should he!"

Xerxes shakes his head, turning back to his drink. "I could be wrong. I only 
  saw the way he behaves."

Shenner snickers, rudely, and returns to nursing that cider.

Chantinelle hmmms, "Well the kid is young, so excuse this manners, but I think 
  he is smarter then many _adults_!"

Xerxes turns back to Chantinelle, a rueful smirk on his face. He takes a sip 
  of his drink before asking, "You do? Why?"

Chantinelle shrugs, "Oh well, *she pauses for a sec* perhaps he has seen more 
  strang ethings then the other humans! but who am I to judge this!? I am not 
  his mother, stars save me!""
Chantinelle takes another sip from her mineral water.

Xerxes raises an eyebrow, "Perhaps? Do you know 'it' well?"

Chantinelle shrugs "As I said I am _not_ his mam, so I do not know!"

Xerxes nods thoughtfully, taking another sip from his beverage, "Then what 
  makes you think 'it' is so wise?"

Chantinelle hmms, "Err He of course1"
Chantinelle yawns with her mouth wide open and blushes, "Oh sorry, it was a 
  hard day."
Chantinelle stands and leaves a large table.

Shenner watches the woman across the way get up, but says nothing, and keeps 
  (at least obviously) most of 'his' attention on downing 'his' drink.

Xerxes inclines his head to one side. After a dissmissive nod, he turns back 
  to his drink, "The little brat certainly exudes....something."

Chantinelle nods slightly to Xerxes and Shenner, "Well if you please exuse me, 
  I have to work still in the embassy."

"Sure thing," drawls Shenner, neutrally.

Chantinelle gives the bartender a sign to add her drink to her usual bill to 
  the embassy and leaves.
Chantinelle exits and heads into the Port District.
Chantinelle has left.

As Chantinelle departs, Shenner slides the woman's exiting back a wary, 
  narrow-eyed glance, then shifts where 'he' sits, flinging booted feet up 
  onto the table and crossing them there.

----------
Interlude:

	_That,_ Shenner thought warily as the woman Chantinelle left the
Dance Dome, _was way too close..._ On the heels of that little thought came
the notion that if a woman who barely knew her could tell that she was
really a female, someone with whom Shenner regularly interacted could
figure it out sooner or later.
	Before her mind could carry on that train of contemplation to the
notion of a certain Corellian figuring out her gender, Shenner ruthlessly
squashed the entire concept flat, then tried to drown it in a few more
mugs of cider. Neither really worked, and eventually, as the night went
on, Shenner finally stalked out of the Dance Dome and out into the city,
into the Residental District.
	Apparently the Espos had grown used to her music, for none of them
stopped her as she finally chose a place at random in the Residental
district, and sat down to play....

----------
Duke comes along the avenue from the west.

Simone_Drake comes along the avenue from the west.
Simone_Drake has arrived.
Simone_Drake steps into the area quietly, a canine by her side. Four guards 
  move alongside her as she makes her way towards one of the many residences 
  on the Avenue.

Sitting crosslegged on one of the park benches, dark red head down, Shenner 
  plays flute: a solemn ditty in a minor key, slow triplets rising on the 
  night breeze.

Simone_Drake offers a curious glance over to the source of the music as she 
  continues towards her house, but makes no slowing of pace, seemingly quite 
  intent on her destination.
Simone_Drake looks at you for a moment.

The slim redheaded kid on the bench doesn't look up; in fact, there's quite 
  the intent scowl of concentration on that pale young face. The flute's song 
  is reasonably clear and loud, perhaps obscuring any nearing footsteps, 
  though the musician's face is turned along the street nevertheless. There's 
  a cloth out on the pavement before the bench the flute player has claimed, a 
  silken piece of something that glitters under the street's illumination.

Simone_Drake glances but a moment longer at the odd musician upon the bench, 
  her eyes and pace indicating her thoughts are elsewhere and are more 
  distracting to her than the rather clear music pervading the night air. She 
  moves up the steps quickly, deactivating the many security devices upon her 
  door one by one. The Espo guards stand watching the immediate area as the 
  canine waits patiently by her side.

The musician is clearly not trained -- clear though the music is, there's 
  still nevertheless a raw quality about it that speaks of much improvisation. 
  The notes occasionally skip, as breath is taken in the wrong places to 
  sustain them, and sometimes as fingers touch the fluteholes in the wrong 
  order. Perhaps it is not too surprising, then, that the flute song jumps a 
  little at the passage of the woman, the guards, and the dog.

Shenner does not shift stance on her chosen bench. She isn't sure she can, as 
  her pulse abruptly decides to step up its tempo, but she can't help but 
  follow the woman and her entourage at least by gaze until they're out of 
  range for observation.

Simone_Drake glances around once nervously before initiating the final 
  sequences to disarm the security devices in place. As the door clicks open, 
  two guards slip ahead of the woman and into her home, and through the 
  windows the lights are seen to have been brought up. One guard returns to 
  the door and speaks quietly to the woman, who then proceeds to enter the 
  residence, the canine by her side. The remaining two guards take a final 
  sweeping glance of the area before entering the house as well. The door 
  shuts and a series of audible clicks and clacks are heard before all is 
  silent from the residence.

Duke unlocks the front door and enters Piper's house.

Simone_Drake unlocks her front door and enters her house
Simone_Drake has left.

_...._ Shenner feels her mind struggling for some kind of reaction, as her 
  hands turn weighty, shaky, dropping the flute to her lap of their own 
  accord. Finally, she manages to herself, _That was her..._ And then, a beat 
  after, _I was THAT close to her house?!_
Two beats after, a sudden clench in her gut brings with it the wondering of 
  whether _she_ can be seen where she is. Shenner sucks in a huge breath to 
  calm herself. She lifts the flute again, to play for a while -- to keep from 
  making _too_ abrupt a departure. But after a quarter of an hour, Shenner 
  packs her flute away, and flees, as fast as she dares.

[End log.]