Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In]

Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Printable Version

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RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Hobo_Bob - 03-08-2016

Relief struck Seri in the heart when Saint spoke. He did not look injured but for what was inside his head. That was something she could not heal with her powers. Still holding one of his hands, Seri pressed another kiss to his knuckles and left his hands at her lips so she could think on what had happened.

Their night before was foggy at best, like a dream long since forgotten but hints of reality poked in. She was here now, Saint was not pulling a prank - at least from what she could tell - and her body felt heavy with the weight of her creatures blood thirst. How he had broken free of his prison and not destroyed the man in front of her, she wasn't sure. But that meant little now as the hunger took over. Not for food or drink, but for the sheer need to spill blood.

"I'm fine..." dropping Saints hand quickly, Seri left the bed by his side. Cold and at a loss for his touch, she gathered her things. Mended what was torn to shatters and pulled the clothes back on. The lace robe covering what she wore under and hiding nothing from view. Once she was dressed, her legs carried her half-unwillingly to Saint once more and kneeled on the bed beside him. "I've not asked much of you, Saint," her once warm and caring tone towards him returned to how it was before their night in bed, "But please tell Ruka I will be at home for a few days. I need to-...." her voice froze as she thought of what her words meant. Of what this man needed to know as opposed to what she should tell him.

"Please let her know I will return once things are settled again." With that, she moved the sheet that once covered her body and draped it over Saints naked form before she headed to the door.

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Angel Kimmi - 09-03-2016

 Ailish had quickly grown tired of the strange men that had shown up in the Inverted Cathedral, they seemed to know her mentor quite well though she didn't really find it appropriate that the blonde one was going around groping Cal. While she had nothing against her choices she resented the man suddenly manhandling her like that. The sight had caused her to press her lips together into a firm line before she retreated, knowing that her mentor would be able to trace her progress or reach her telepathically if concerned.

 Retracing her steps towards the incline of stairs that led towards the hallways of bedrooms though she hesitated for a moment. A familiar dark haired vampire who was mad at her coming to mind.

 She shook her head, dark curls falling around her slender shoulders as she pushed the thoughts away. It was highly unlikely that he would choose now to come out. He was busy with that woman after all, she was going to have to ask Cal to get her white board back...later. There wasn't anyone she wanted to converse with right now after all, so it mattered little.

 Going back into hibernation for another week or so sounded good.

 Ailish sighed softly lifting her hand up to press against her forehead and what appeared to be the start of a headache. Stress...or perhaps all the crying, either way she felt tired...almost drained from all the recent excitement if you wanted to call it that. If it was 'excitement' she could do without anymore for the next few months, she thought dryly as she trudged up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

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RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-05-2016

Saint cautiously watched as Seri kept her lips pressed to his knuckles. His own were parted just so and his brow was knit as pools of emerald and sapphire tried to look beyond hers—too try and see what was rollin’ around in her head. He didn’t need to scent her to know something was bothering—worrying her deeply. Something he didn’t know a damn bit about. Did it have to do with her beastie? His? Last night? It wouldn’t be the first time for that last one; though, usually his bed was empty the next morning when that was the case.

He found himself blinking once as she zipped about the room like a bee looking for pollen. And then she was right next to him, kneeling on the floor beside the bed, speaking before he could think to get a word out. “Uh... sure, Noona...” Leaving? Why? “Where—.” But she was gone before he could make sense of it—of any of it.

Shit... had he fucked up last night? Had the bitch in his head?

Saint ran a hand through his scalp, nails scraping as he moved to sit up. His body hurt for sure, but it wasn’t that bad. Not really. Maybe all that she’d let him have last night was finally kicking in, healing... soothing.

He sighed. It probably wasn’t him. Seri probably had some shit on her mind. It could have nothing to do with him. Or everything...

With a grunt, the vampire slid out of bed and got to work getting ready for the day. About a half an hour later he was showered, dressed, and had the length of his hair tied into a long and thick braid. Bare-chested--a choice that showed off his tattoo work and lithe muscular body--with ripped and faded black jeans, as well as barefoot, was his mode for the day. It was hours yet until the nightly festivities and he didn’t give a damn about being too pretty when he wasn’t on shift yet.

He was yawning by the time he made it downstairs and towards the bar, mouth wide open and flashing fang as he tried to cover it with a hand.

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 09-25-2016

It was a beautiful place, and it had music in it. Teller stood in the entrance and looked up, and up; golden light and warm wood as far as the eye could see. Their fingers twitched, wondering about acoustics, dreaming major chords. Teller wrinkled their nose at an opportunity missed. They did have the lap harp in the carefully-padded case on their back, but this place begged for The Beast.

Well, it wasn't like they were going to trek all the way back to the apartment and get it, and it wasn't like they had any way to transport it here. Still. A dream.

Teller treaded into the room slowly. For all that they wore bulky leather boots, their steps were almost silent, careful. Not wishing to disturb the sound of the room itself, the muffled street echoes and murmured conversation.

It had been a long time since they'd played a concert hall. There had been school, but then-- well, it was hard to maintain a professional reputation and connections when you vanished from the earth for seven years. The renaissance festival a month or two past had had a stage, but that was a rustic thing, and to the open air besides. And Faerie had been...well, different.

Teller wandered up to the bar, for lack of a better direction. No one stood there, though he heard voices coming from-- somewhere. Hard to tell, in a place this large.

There was a fey look to the Cathedral's latest visitor: not that they were anything but human, but a certain look that suggested knowledge just slightly beyond mortal ken. They were short, but wiry, with clever green eyes and a smattering of freckles. A shaft of light touched the shoulders of their neatly-tailored green coat as they stood, head turning this way and that, alighting on messy curls and turning them to a halo of red-gold.
Possibly this had been intentional. They'd deny it, given the chance.

At the sound of footsteps behind them they turned, wondering if they ought to be apologizing for having come in on an off day-- but the figure approaching didn't particularly seem like some kind of staff. He was shirtless, to begin with, and tattooed besides, with long hair and bare feet.

Teller switched tactics immediately, and grinned a crooked grin.

"Well, hey," they said, leaning back against the bar with one hand raised. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-25-2016

Likèreal had not made it to the bar yet, but she had poured him a drink and set it aside on a small square napkin. A rosé, because a red wine seemed too bitter for the early afternoon and a white too airy, especially after a long rain storm. She couldn’t feel the patter on her roof anymore; just drip-drops from the trees outside. The courtyard out back, she imagined, was coated—freshly washed of whatever grime accumulated over days. A good rain always felt good; dark skies were not as dreary as some made them out to be.

Her gaze drifted towards Saint as he made his way downstairs and across the great hall that once served as a place to listen to Sunday sermons. She considered scolding him for the lack of footwear, but it would be quite out of character to bother. They were hardly open anyway.

As she poured herself a rosé as well, not very much either, her senses picked up on a new visitor just as her gaze found him coming in through the door. A short fellow, for sure. He’s come up no farther than her shoulders. Curious too; his eyes darted from one object to the next.

He eventually made it to the bar, not that Ruka was ever in a hurry. Expecting haste from visitors would be high hypocrisy. “Not at all,” she decided to interrupt, her cool blue eyes ever warm despite the chilled shade. “Can I help you?”

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 09-25-2016

The voice came from the bar behind them, out of an area they thought was empty. Teller startled slightly, then took a step back, trying to keep both the man they'd seen and the new speaker in their line of sight.

The person behind the bar was tall- not the kind of height that Teller mentally classified as "unjustly tall", but close to it, with ice-eyes and silver hair that seemed more artifice than age. This time they did adopt a slightly sheepish posture as they looked up, head ducked, with a smile that seemed almost rueful. Some of the self-effacement was genuine: mostly they just felt bad about having apparently ignored someone in favor of a shirtless man.
Which was, by some interpretations, exactly what had happened. But.

They hooked a thumb into the strap of their harp case and rocked on their heels, just once, as they considered the-- man's?-- question. And it had been a question. Asked out of courtesy or not, the intent was there, as well as the compulsion. "I think you can," Teller said brightly. That was true, of course; Teller suspected he could at least serve them a drink if they requested one. And that would be helpful.

"Mostly I was just wondering if you were open," they admitted. "After I saw the sign outside, I couldn't help but take a look. But now that I'm here..." Teller craned their neck upwards again, eyes tracing the soaring rafters.
"I don't suppose you have live music?"

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-25-2016

Her smile was soft, just as it usually was. A very classic and controlled expression she’d perfected over the years; natural, and every bit apart of her as her own skin—like an extension that hummed at a certain sort character within. In many ways, everything Ruka was, or ever would be likely, was in that smile. She offered it easily and with warmth, just as she did for every visitor—especially those who startled quite easily.

He’d been looking at Saint; which was no real surprise. The vampire was made for looking at in the same way Michelangelo’s David was, or Power’s The Greek Slave had been—secretly by Victorian society. His long midnight hair, like a curtain of made from the abyss, tattoos , and even his piercings were, after all, for the benefit of acquiring bedmates. She didn’t feel insulted at being overlooked. If anything, perhaps amused.

She was still smiling gently as she took a sip of her wine. He had an elvish look about him—something pretty, no pointed ears. But Ruka supposed she looked a bit elvish as well with her cut bone structure and aristocratically sharp nose.

“We are; though, I would advise excusing the lack of attentiveness. My staff is not known for being early to rise.” At nearly three in the afternoon ‘early’ would have made anyone laugh. As she reached and pulled an ashtray over, she paused only to wonder if it would bother him. Seri didn’t much like cigarette smoke and Ruka did her best to keep it away from the tiny woman.

“Nothing regular, I admit.” She pulled out a tin housing cigarettes and let it fall open. Then she followed his gaze, smirking as if she could read his thoughts. “DJs on the weekend nights. University students tend to enjoy something loud and fast to dance to. We do have a music room that’s not oft taken advantage of, a library even less.” She was smiling again as she set the tin on the counter and pulled out a cigarette. “Does cigarette smoke bother you?”

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 09-25-2016

He had an incredible smile. Teller was a great observer of people, of voices and movements and expressions, and this man's smile was nearly a work of art. They couldn't help but stare, a little bit, equal parts appreciation and memorization. That would be a terribly useful smile to have in their repertoire. They found they were smiling in response, and more genuinely than usual.

While he took a sip of his drink, they glanced at the dark-haired man, as if looking for some kind of cue.

Early to rise? That got a raised eyebrow out of them, head cocked, as the smile turned into something more like a smirk. "In that case, I apologizing for intruding at this hour of the morning," they said jokingly, leaning back from the bar a little as he reached for an ashtray. He'd said my staff as well, which was interesting. Teller wasn't sure what they'd expected the owner of a place like this to look like (no, that was a lie. It was either an older gentleman, frail but proud, or a young woman with pre-Raphaelite hair and a soft voice. Sometimes the narrative ran away from them), but it wasn't this sword of a man.

Nothing regular was promising, but the word "DJs" had them slumping, acknowledging that this really wasn't their crowd. They perked back up again at "music room". Was it an original with the building? What instruments? It must be on the upper floors; how large? Did they need to rent the space, or was it open to the public? They were jerked out of their excited reverie by a kind of tug at their breastbone.

A question. Teller had almost missed it entirely, and in their surprise they blurted out the unadulterated truth.

"It does, terribly." Sometimes smells were the worst thing in this realm. Then, blinking, attempting to recover: "But it's your place, of course. I imagine in a grand space like this the smoke hardly lingers." Compliment the building, give a winning smile, never mind the truth they'd so inelegantly released.

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-25-2016

She chuckled just as softly as she smiled when he ‘apologized’. Ruka wasn’t always up early, but she was usually the first to wake up. and the place was always as quiet as... well... a church when no one else was up. It wound up, sometimes, making her feel a bit like an intruding ghost.

She noted the slump in his shoulders while she thumbed at the filter end of her smoke. He was awfully emotive, if not a bit endearing. It probably helped that he wasn’t very tall; though, not very short either. She felt as if it might have been better to sit so she might meet his eyes easier. But then he got excited again the moment she mentioned a music room; the reaction, so raw, was enough make her want to invite him to the space. She would too, were it not presently occupied by two people who were very near doing something that would be rude to interrupt.

“Well...” she began, “it doesn’t stick,” she said of the smoke. And it didn’t. At all. She didn’t value things the way some people did, but she didn’t like the way cigarette smoke stuck to walls and ruined paint—wood. Witches were good for simple things, spells that kept such from occurring.

Still, she put the tin away after shutting it, slipping into a pocket in her black suit jacket. “I take it you like music?”

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 09-26-2016

The man was...not subdued, but subtle. An important distinction. In the way that the most skilled fighters moved, without a single ounce of excess effort, he emoted: each action was perfectly tailored to the need. It was beautifully elegant. Suddenly Teller wanted to know what he looked like, overcome with passion or despair.
They'd been interested before, and now they were intrigued. They shifted to face the owner and pressed their palms against the edge of the bar. Almost unthinkingly, their left hand drifted back and forth, feeling the cool smoothness of it.

They watched him put the cigarettes away with the wry twist to their mouth; not about to complain, but certainly not pleased they'd been so careless as to slip like that. You'd think, after all this time, that you'd get better at this sort of thing. If anything, however, they seemed to be growing more and more careless. Wondering what just might happen if the secret came out.

The next question was an easier one.

"I?" The question was almost half-gasped, exaggerated drama as they held their right hand to their chest in a delicate gesture. Teller smiled their crooked smile. "Why, I am something of a fan." They dropped the pose to reach for their harp case, pulling it in front of them in one smooth gesture. It was not quite a recognizable shape, so they pulled the zipper on one side far enough to reveal the wood frame and arrayed strings. Teller didn't see the point in modesty.

"Harper, singer, guitarist, composer, if it's got strings I can play it, and if it's got words I can tell it."
They zipped the harp case back up, but let it rest on the bar beside them.

"That's the name, Teller." They'd have reached over for a handshake (they had a very impressive handshake), but the bar made that prohibitively awkward. They went for a smile instead, a small thing that was a half-conscious imitation of the man's own, and asked, "And yourself?"

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-27-2016

“You are more than welcome to take a seat,” she offered when he didn’t pull himself up into one of the stools surrounding the bar. It seemed unusual, his not sitting. He didn’t look entirely uncomfortable standing there, but a stool would give him a little more height. An inch or two at least. There was also the matter that he hadn’t asked for a drink; an idle thought as she took another sip of her wine, next swirling it around in the long-steamed glass with a slight twist of her wrist. There was a chance he didn’t want one... She was probably thinking about it too much, noticing things about people in a too-detailed manner as she often did. Reading those around her, like little books full of interesting tales.

...Ruka often lived in her head a little too much. Never long enough—usually—for anyone to notice.

He was excited again—very excited, even if some of it was full of flourish apurpose. The case was on her bar counter in a flash, drawing her eyes immediately. Her brows rose just so and her gaze drew over the harp, carefully taking in every detail. It was a fine instrument, truly. She had not seen such in quite some time. There was rarely a need or want for music that required as much in this realm.

She was a little sad to see it go. Ruka had an interest in the arts; perhaps not as greatly as some, but it was there all the same. “A storyteller. Troubadour,” she amended. “Bard?” she asked, smiling softly again. Professions she understood very well. “I can see why you were distracted by my ceilings.” She glanced up at them once more. “I enjoy them for similar reasons,” she said cryptically as she thought of her violin. Generally, she kept her paying to the music room. Though there were some nights, very late ones when she could not sleep that were close to dawn, that she took advantage of the great hall. Saint had caught her a few times, not that she was hiding it from anyone.

Cool blue met green once more. “Ruka Kato,” she replied. “Proprietor of Inverted Cathedral. Very pleased to meet you, Teller.

“Would you like a drink?”

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 09-27-2016

Oh, right.

Teller used the rung of the barstool to their right to step up and take a seat, slinging themselves into a sprawl that didn't look as though it should be possible on such a small surface. As they rested one hand on the bar itself their fingers tapped out a quick and jaunty tattoo.

"Bard," they confirmed, inclining their head slightly. This time Teller didn't allow their surprise to spill over their face, maintaining instead that vaguely pleasant look. That phrasing was curious. And brought back some very specific memories.
It had been some time since they were called bard in any degree of seriousness (or by someone not wearing an ill-fitting medieval costume). While they had no suspicions that the man before them was elven, despite his coloring, there were...other options. What were his similar reasons? Was he some sort of magician? Was the space optimized for that? Certainly it had been a center of worship, once. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Teller grabbed their curiosity in a vice grip and pulled it down before it could get too far ahead.

He had lovely eyes. Blue was a challenge to describe in a way that wasn't trite, but Teller felt they could handle a challenge. They wondered if Ruka was a man's name. Their rudimentary knowledge of linguistics said "no," but the figure before them did seem to be...masculinely presenting, for lack of better words. And who were they to judge for an odd name?

"I would, Ruka Kato," they informed the proprietor sincerely, tapping the bar twice. This was a slightly better height-- they didn't have to look up quite so much. "I would like a drink that is-" They paused, lips pursed. "-pink in color, and tastes slightly more like fruit than alcohol. Is that a thing that can be done?"

Sure, it was hardly the time for it, but Teller hadn't come this far in life to care about something so paltry as the human concept of "appropriate" drinking.

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 09-28-2016

She watched him as he got comfortable and confirmed that he was indeed a bard. An old profession, at least for this realm; one that grew antiquated with the rise of technology. What need did someone have for a traveling storyteller when they had television and movies? What need did someone have for the wandering musician to regale them with legends and stories through song when they had books on audio and songs on an mp3 player? It was actually rather sad. There was something lovely about going out long after the sun had set to watch the stars, where city lights didn’t obscure one’s ability to see them, and to listen to one person’s version of an old tale—one that had been reworked and weathered over the generations.

“Just Ruka,” she corrected, laughter laden in her eyes. It gathered behind her subdued smile. “You want a sangria. Or so it sounds to my ears. Unless you mean a wine cooler? Not as much alcohol, but more sweet than kick.”

As she awaited a response about the drink, she said, “What bring you, if I may ask? Customers that would be unusual anywhere else end up here.” Sometimes they wound up working there, or sometimes they just liked the idea of a bar inside a former church. There was something both salacious and curious about it. “Even so, it does add to my curiosity.”

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - kaythebold - 10-02-2016

"Ruka, then." They leaned in slightly as they said it, head tilted and eyelids lowered, as though the name itself were an endearment. But in the space a half of breath they'd moved, back straightening, returning to the casual and jaunty posture that they'd worn since their arrival.

"Sangria!" Teller snapped and pointed at Ruka approvingly. "No, just the trick. Wine cooler won't do, terrible name and the color's not as exciting." And they'd had it before. Though Teller was, by all legal accounts, on the far side of drinking age, they hadn't actually had that much time to experiment with alcohol. Technically they'd gone for seven years without a drink at all. That was the sort of thing which sounded more strange than impressive, unfortunately, so they'd never gotten a chance to brag about it.

They looked at him for a long moment, feeling the hook in their breastbone, considering. "Unusual" customers, hm? And he'd used the word bard specifically. It only confirmed their suspicions. What kind of beastie was he, then? Human-seeming, or close enough as to make no difference. They could usually spot glamours by now. They couldn't necessarily see what lay beneath, but there was a kind of glimmer in the corner of your eye that just discernible if you knew what you were looking for.

"'Curiosity,'" they repeated. "Just so. How could a person see a place like this and not be curious?" Teller waved a hand generally at the cathedral. The pressure at their throat lessened, but they could still feel a sharpness there, a too-familiar threat. They swallowed. "And your charming sign, of course." There. The whole of the truth.

A haven had sounded...good. If unlikely. If only for a little while.

"And what of you? What brings you here to the home of the unusual, Monsieur Proprietor?"

RE: Inverted Cathedral [Month 1/Day 5/Year 1] [Walk-In] - Blade - 10-19-2016

Another smile, gentle and reserved as ever, as her name rolled off his tongue. It was half because of the sound of his voice and half because of his movements; he reminded her a little of an inquisitive kitten—one moment utterly still and the next raptly distracted and toying with something else altogether. This opinion became especially solidified at his exclamation of the drink name.

“A Sangria is it, Sir Bard.” She nodded once and set her own glass down. She turned towards the shelves and such behind her, crouching down to retrieve a bottle and plastic bowl with a lid from the small fridge there. Both items were set on the counter just above. As she worked, she replied, dropping pieces of cut fruit into a wine glass that was a bit larger than her own, “I suppose you could say that’s part of the reason I purchased it and had it renovated.” Ah, the sign. “I think people take it too literally sometimes; they’re Tolkien’s words after all, I just twisted them a little.” She began pouring the wine into the glass. “In truth, a great many people come here and believe they are lost, when in reality they’re not at all. They are going in precisely the direction they are meant to go in.” It was then she put everything up, turned back with the drink in her hand, and set it before him.

A shrug as she leaned her hip into the bar’s edge; her arms crossed over her chest for lack of a better place to put them. “Many things. Purgatory? I’m not always certain. I like helping people. And stories. People have many stories to tell—many to tell a bar tender.”