Log Date: 6/4/99 Log Cast: Pallando, Thurain, Shenner, Ariani (NPC), Emma (NPC), the Womprats (NPCs) -- all NPCs emitted by Shenner Log Intro: Now that the Sandbar has been reopened, with Shen Veery taking over as lead singer for the band now known as the Womprats, music has continued in that worthy establishment and has begun to encourage former regular patrons back in to hear their favorite performers. The loss of Rekkie Sheldon is keenly felt -- but the heart and soul of the band is still in place. And it's still drawing attention from the most unexpected quarters, now that Shenner is in charge... --------- Fountain Square - Plaxton City The huge buildings in the background threaten to take over this small patch of green that is the center of Plaxton City. A stone fountain -still in place from another time- sits in the center of the square. It depicts a young woman looking into the sky. water flares around her and bursts into a star pattern ten feet above her head. The inscription at the base of the fountain is written in the aging language of a more romantic time. 'Farewell, for all journeyers that leave this place shall always return to call it home.' Wandering the square throughout the day are Caspar Marines; some off-duty and enjoying their downtime while on-duty commandos in full armor and uniform keep watch over the area. Despite the commandos' aggresive appearance, they are viewed with admiration and respect from most of the citizens, some of them even joking and talking with families. The dusk sky above is full of clouds with light rain coming down. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Thurain => Pallando => IGNews Terminal - Caspar => Mail Terminal: Caspar -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ndbar leads to The Sandbar. outh leads to South Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City. ast leads to East Blake St. - Plaxton City. orth leads to North Mergansar Ave. - Plaxton City. est leads to West Blake St. - Plaxton City. Pallando stnds in the rain at the IGn terminal trying to get the balmed machine to work and loosing his patence. Thurain enters the Sandbar. Thurain has left. For once, the rain is lighter, which is a general blessing to those whose daily activities are hindered by the heavy rains in Plaxton City this time of year. For Shenneret Veery, on the other hand, the diminishing force of the weather is a bit of a disappointment. Still, though, undaunted by any amount of wet in the weather, she comes strolling into the Square, whistling jauntily, aiming herself in the Sandbar's direction. Pallando giving the terminal a good grunt assisted kick uses the momentum to turn muttering, "Dr...Ba...A drink!" His dress uniform sheening the rain off, his exposed forehead mixing the rain with perspiration as it is another hot and humid Orleniv evening. He strides his frusteration out, his boots kilcking and kciking up more wet fro mthe street. Cutting Shnner off at the door he pauses gettign a grip on his emotional state, "Excuse me." He says politly to the red head holding the door open for her. "Er, thanks pal," Shenner says, gruff but amiable, and a bit startled but not badly so at the mannerly gesture. As she saunters into the bar, she adds blandly as she goes, "Kick it on the right side next time, that generally gets it to start spittin' out stuff for me." And into the bar she goes. You enter the Sandbar. The Sandbar A large, comfortable room creates the main part of Plaxton City's infamous Sandbar, survivor of no less than three rounds of destruction, once more back on its feet. Refurbished to much the same state it had enjoyed prior to the invasion of Caspar at Imperial hands, the place boasts dark wood panelling on its walls, and myriad booths and tables of occasionally battered but sturdy lighter wood, and a number of both old and brand new holoposters hung here and there on the walls. Several deep blue glass windows allow light in from outside, while keeping the ambient light level fairly low. The marble bar that survived the recent war still remains, more battered than before, but once again serving as the domain of Ariani; the loft, too, has been restored, providing yet more seating and an excellent view of the low stage towards the back of the room, where the local band called the Womprats play each night. ----For help with tables, type "PLACE HELP" ----For help with drinks, type "BAR HELP" ----For a closer look at the room's details, type "DETAIL LIST" -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => The Sandbar's Band: The Womprats(#5983) => Emma => Ariani -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Fountain Square - Plaxton City. Pallando enters the Sandbar. Pallando has arrived. Pallando shakes his arms and stamps his feet upon entering the establishment to get least the excessive surface wet off him. He heads for the Bar calling out to the maid, "Tepid Spice Tea, please." He plops some creds upon it and follows the perky Red heads path through the room, though with his eyes only. Thurain walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Thurain has left. "Sure thing, pal," Ariani says amiably, as she finishes slinging off a drink to another customer at the bar. The money accepted, the auburn-haired bartender attends to the requested tea. Shenner, in the meantime, tosses off a wave to the bartender as well, even as the four musicians up on the stage in the midst of warming up for the set to begin shortly catch her attention. "Gimme a water with citrus in it right quick, will ya, 'Ani?" Thurain enters the Sandbar. Thurain has arrived. Pallando waits patiently as he notes the band is here tonight. He eyeingly picks out an intended target table upfront. His calmness returning to him his posture relaxes some. For a Friday the bar is still fairly sparsely populated, the late crowd having ot arrived yet. Cup finaly in hand. The young Sarian Captain makes his way to his still empty target table and sits. Thurain wonders over to the bar and grabs himself a seat. It doesn't take long for Shen to get her water and carry it with her up onto the stage. Her guitar is already out and waiting, and since the crowd _is_ fairly small tonight, the band's presence has been suitably subdued. They give time for Shenner to get her guitar and get warmed up as well, and then after five or six minutes have passed, the redheaded musician clips a miniature microphone to her collar and speaks up, her voice carrying across the room, "Evenin', folks, and welcome to the Sandbar. We're the Womprats, and tonight, we're just gonna kick back and give you somethin' casual to listen to. Enjoy, y'all." More softly, she murmurs the name of a song to her compatriots. She counts off a four-count, and then they begin, drums and horn beginning with a two-measure intro before their first number kicks in in earnest. Emma, in the meantime, breezes by Pallando's table and greets him with a sunny smile, "Good evening! You just wave for me if you need anything else after you finish that drink off, okay? Would you like something to eat?" Thurain's arrival, too, is noted at the bar. Ariani's standard greeting is proffered: "What can I get ya?" Pallando glances at his chrono, and seems surprised at the earlyness of the hour. At Emma's question he nods promisingly, but then realizing she said more than how are you he shakes his head, "Uh no all ready ate." He covers the spot on hsi table where a palte might go in mock deffense of it. Thurain starts tapping his fingers and then glances at the door. Emma's undaunted, though. She merely beams full-tilt to Pallando, bobs her perky head, and repeats, "Okay, well, but if you want something, just holler, okay? Or wave, if the band gets going too loud!" And off she goes, to find someone else from whom to take a drink or food order. Mellow, laid-back instrumentals, with just a touch of jazz, seem to be the mode for the five musicians on the stage tonight. Shenner's guitar leads the melody line, with the keyboards played by the Twi'lek Aa'leet providing rhythm; Karm and Tethra's horns are the descant, punching accented, syncopated notes in between the guitar's strummed chords; Loren's drums are the backbone of it all, as the young Corellian deftly flows between snare and tom-tom and bass and back again. Pallando slides his fingers on the table his eyes shut as if manipulating an instrument or sound console of some sort. As the tune drifts on he opens his eyes and smaples his tea, relishing the pungent flavor as it slides to his throat. He emmits a sigh, unheard even thoguh the jazzy sounds are diminuitive. A contented smile creeps upon his face. And so another evening of music and consumption of favorite intoxicants in the Sandbar progresses. More patrons make their way in, attracted by the promise of the Womprats' music, and a few more than have come in in recent nights due to the lighter rains; eventually, a comfortably large crowd fills the bar. Ariani and Emma are practically everywhere, passing out drinks both cold and hot to their intended recipients; some non-particular souls even opt to have their evening dinners here, though the fare is as simple as one might expect from a bar. And through the course of it all, Shenner and her compatriots fill the room with melodic sound, relying more on their instruments tonight than their voices, though they're not stingy with the vocals either. By the time the first set of the evening is concluded the band has worked into higher energy numbers... and by the time they take their first break, promising to be back in half an hour, several of the customers look eager for music by which they can dance. As her companions disperse off the stage, taking over 'their' table nearby and flagging down Emma for a round of their favorite drinks, Shen can be seen to realize that she's killed off the citron-flavored water in her glass. And thus, with a sure stride, the redheaded lead singer of the band aims herself towards Ariani and the bar. Pallando has enjoyed the respite from work and home, though not entirely comfortable in his formal dress uniform after a second and third spice tea, Emma kept her word and attention on the Captain, he is in no condition to notice any longer, the drug component of the tea giving his eyes a pelasent relaxed opiate glazing. He notes the bands table next to his own and coments, "Nice sounds. But your base is set a little soft." his coments is offered as friendly critisim. Thurain walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Thurain has left. There's general amiable laughter as the musicians claim their table. "Give us time, buddy," calls over the young Corellian who plays the drums. "We'll crank it up next set, after we wet our throats." The horn players glance politely Pallando's way, recognition lightening their almost identical black gazes; Tethra nods his big blocky head, rumbling a small indefinite noise that might be a greeting. His sister Karm is a bit more graceful about it, simply offering a small smile. The Twi'lek Aa'leet, claiming the chair nearest the man, gives him her race's version of a friendly smile. It doesn't take long for Emma to show up with a tray with all four musician's favorite drinks. Nor does it take long for Shenner to approach, tossing off waves to a few of the regulars she recognizes, a new glass of water in her hands. Pallando smiles not wishing ot offend the musicians. At Shenners arrival he ties to catch her eye and asks pointedly, "have you ever sungany opera?" He rises, uninvited, "Letme introduce myself, I am Ernie Pallando. I am the director of the Plaxton City Arts Board and Chairman of the Plaxton city Opera. We are having seaon Auditions this week and I realy think oy ushould consider auditioning." Four startled faces at the band's table are most of the result of Pallando's question; Loren, the drummer, chokes on his drink. Emma actually squeals, "_Shen_? Sing _opera_?" And as a few nearby heads turn at the potentially interesting conversation, Shenner herself lifts her eyebrows. "I saw you 'round Trinumvira, didn't I?" she drawls. Pallando smiles at the attention he has gotten. "Yes I am serious, I know you hip types think it is a dead art, but think of It ....Shen is it? An entire 75 piece orchestra backing you up and an audience of not this 100 but of 10,000 per set? You get every other night off and it pays very well." He seems to ignore her rembrance of his hosted liquer party on base. "Shen? Sing _opera?!_" Emma squeals again. Apparently the waitress is having a hard time digesting this concept, at least until someone waves for her attention, calling out a plaintive request for a refill of her beer. Off Emma goes, but not before staring at Pallando as if he'd just asked Shenner to do something on the order of stripping off all her clothes, painting herself fluorescent pink, and smooching someone. On the stage. Shen hooks a foot around the chair the others had left unoccupied for her, scooting it over and turning it around so that she can plop herself down at Pallando's table, all the better to study him intently. "Only two things wrong with that scenario," she points out. "One, when fall term starts up, assuming the U of Caspar's ready, I'm back to school to pick up where I left off. Two, I'm lead singer now for these guys." And she gestures at her companions, all of whom are now watching this conversation with interest. Pallando purses his lips at the obstacles the scared young singer grasps at to hurl in the way. "Oh school, what are you studying?" He asks dismissivly sitting back down at his table now that the siren has joined him. He sips nursing now his tea feeling more in his element scouting out a potential house breaker. Scared? Shenner? Not likely. At least not if you're going strictly by her body language and the level set of her emerald gaze. In fact, if there's any word that could summarize the young woman's demeanor, it's 'casual'. She leans back into a slouch in the chair, hooking one arm around behind it and stretching out her legs to cross them before her, gaze never leaving Pallando. "Gonna be a xenomusicologist," she states succintly. Pallando confident that Shenner's casual street rough outward appearence is her most effective barrier ot hide her true fears persists at gettign through the barrier. "Nods suitably impresed the lass can use multi syllabic words, "Well then I am sure a stint withthe opera should count as credit or at elast reason enough to schedule classes around rehearsals and matinees." HE leans back gaining more confidence, "And as for the band.....we are audtioning for the Orchestra too. You might be surprised at what instruments we could use for what I have planned this season. I ithnk it would be right up this groups alley. What with the Wamprats public aclaim we might even draw a new crowd to the opera." HE wiggles his eyeborws. "Think it over and audtion....all of you. It's only a chance ot open more doors, not a final decision." He shrugs. Wait a minute! This guy wants -all- of them? This causes a murmur of startlement around the table, and it is the horn player Karm who speaks up, then, her deep mellifluous voice rising up to put in, "Your offer is intriguing, Mister Pallando, but there is to be considered as well that our contract with the Sandbar requires us to play here five nights each week." "Yeah," says Loren, his handsome brow crinkled. "Who's gonna play here if we're in an opera?" Pallando waves away the concern with a tilt of his head. I am sure the Larkaans and the Plaxton City Opera can come ot some suitable arrangement to get you out of your contract. You leave those details to me. I tihnk after all is said and done every one should come out the happier for it, including the owers of this establishment." He smiles a friendly smile. "You can all come up with so many reason not to try it. I only ask that yo uaudition and we'll jsut see what happens. Why slam a door shut when oy ucan just maybe peer inside first?" "I have but one question," comes the comment from Aa'leet, as the slender white-skinned alien turns round in her chair to tilt her bi-tailed, beribboned head at Pallando. "Why us?" "Good question," drawls Shenner, still studying the man making this bizarre offer intently. Pallando shrugs, "Well to be frank, Your lead singer has an intriguing voice. I have heard yo ua number of times. and I was serious about capitolizing on your fame as a band as a catalyst to get new blood to the box office. That coupled with the new modern opera's I have commisioned I tihnk will make a nice over all package. You guys are not roguh edged like so many pop bands. you have an ancient style about you that stirs the blood, put it in costume in fornt of a set and we'll sell out the house." He shrugs as if his thought of using th Wamp Rats is the most natural things any Sarian could imagine. To this, Shenner listens, green eyes narrowed in speculation. A small smile curls one end of her mouth at the description of her voice; perhaps it's an expression of wry satisfaction. "Stick us in the middle of an orchestra and an opera company, though, pal, and we aren't the Womprats anymore," she shrewdly points out. The drawl has left her voice, replaced with a less casual, more alert pronunication. Indeed, this girl seems capable of putting herself across as a bit better than a street tough. Pallando holds out a plam forward halting hand, "I suspect you do not know what talents a good maestro can pull out of a orchestra. It will sound as intended. and I like your sound." He says plainly. "it will not be your style xactly of course that is too....small....wont carry to the balcony but expanded upon. Your uniqueness amplified by a score of violins. It will be worth the price of admission I garantee." Karm and Tethra and Aa'leet all seem intrigued; the calmer and older elements of the band, experienced musicians all, they are not unaware of the potential of how they might sound with their ranks swelled by many more musicians... even if the potential material is outside their usual repetoire. Loren looks vaguely discomfited, but as true a Corellian as they come, this translates to a fiercely determined 'I can play anything you put in front of me' expression, full of youthful bravado. Shenner, though... Shenner's expression is not at all unlike Loren's, actually. But unlike with Loren, there's a glimmer in the girl's eyes, intent consideration, as she inwardly comprehends the possibilities. She stares at Pallando a few moments longer, and then glances sideways to take in the faces of her bandmates, gauging their reactions. Reading cautious interest there, she says back to the man before her, "We'll consider it. When and where did you say these auditions are...?" Pallando smiles as if te victory has al ready been achieved in the response from the red headed diva, "They are all this next week at the newly rebuilt Opera House. The government was most generous. IT is better than it was pre war. 9 - 5 drop in any or all of you any time and I'l make sure you are heard." He sips again from his cup. Shenner's head quirks a bit. "Us and our full gear, or just us?" "We have many instruments between us," puts in Aa'leet. "Hells," Loren drawls, "Shen's a one-woman band by herself." Pallando pauses as if unsure how to answer but concludesquickly, "Basic things should be available at the Hall, but if you have rare alien instruments you want ot paly for your audition pieces it might be best to bring them, just to be sure. If we end up needing them for the show you would be paid a handsome weekly rental fee and anything inside the buildign is of course covered by insurance." "We've got my flutes, my guitar, my ocarina, and my bodhran," Shenner says gruffly, "Tethra and Karm's horns, Aa'leet's keyboard, and Loren's drumset. Nothing particularly weird." Rekkie Sheldon's guitar, survivor of the war that killed its owner and the band's former leader, goes unmentioned, safely sequestered in Shenner's apartment. "We'll cope with whatever you got on hand." Morganna enters the Sandbar. Morganna has arrived. Pallando nods complacently, "Yes I am sure we have al those instruments on hand." He dismisses yet another of the bands' concerns, "I must warn you that my Naval duties will probably prevent me from actualy being at the audition unless I know ahead when you intend to audition." he hints trying ot get them to commit ot a certain time. A scarred woman enters from the street. She almost has a slumped look to her, and she isn't particularly happy. Morganna's left hand is bandaged tightly and it appears that she';s having some trouble moving her fingers. Morganna moves to the bar, where Ariani and Emma will mostdefinately recognise her and she speaks in a cool voice, "Spice tea, Huka roasted on a flat bread, to go.." Morganna sounds like she's almost upset, she doesn't want to leave Caspar.. but she has to. Shenner, between the musicians gathered at her own table and Ernie Pallando at his, smiles narrowly at the latter's blatant nudge. "Next day we all have the morning off is two days from now," she says blandly. "We'll be there." Ariani, indeed, recognizes Morganna; the bartender's eyebrows go up at her arrival. But Ariani is the very incarnation of unflappable, and so she merely states, "Be right on it," and names the price. She is, immediately thereafter, right on it as promised. Emma's halfway across the room handing off a big foamy orange-colored brew of some sort to an alien in one of the side booths, but even so she can be heard to squeal to it in wonder, "That man over there wants Shen to sing _opera_! Isn't that _riff_?" Uh oh. Looks like Ariani's little sister has her new gossip topic for the evening. Pallando smiles sipping at his own third spiced tea for the evening, nods smiling, "excellent! I all ready ahve no duty that day and was intending on bringing my new bairns to the Hall to introduce them to one of life's finer pleasures." He bobs his head, "I am most pleased yo uare being open minded enough to consider this. You will not regret it." The grumpy scarred one almost winces at the squeal and she places some standard credits on the counter. unlike in her diplomat days, the tip is almost non existant, it's hard to make ends meet when you can't get into any of your accounts! Morganna sighs and regards the patrons of the sand bar, so happy after the destruction, so willing to continue after rebuilding. "If only my life was this easy.." she mutters to herself, almost unaware that she said it out loud. Ariani takes the credits that Morganna has laid out on the bar and slides the food over, packaged. Morganna takes the bag and inclines her head, "Thanks." The scarred woman, mumbles to herself and begins to push through the crowds on her way to the door. Morganna walks out of the Sandbar and the door closes automatically. Morganna has left. The discussion between the Womprats and Pallando has taken up a good chunk of their break; checking her chrono, Shen flicks a hand at the others, and then points to the stage. Drinks get belted down. Chairs get scooted back, Loren's with a bit less decorum than everyone else's; the drummer's scrapes on the floor. "We'll see when it happens," Shenner says archly, but that glint of interest is still lingering in her leaf-colored eyes. She flashes a small lopsided grin to Ernie Pallando, then, adding as she gets up, "'Scuse us, will ya? We're on." Pallando nods rsiing out of politeness, "Yes I am over due at the baby sitters myself. See you in two days." He pays his tab and departs. [End log.]