03.11.2022 - A Visit to the Sideshow
| A Visit to the Sideshow | |
|---|---|
| A newcomer to town visits the Sideshow and meets the proprietor. | |
| IC Date | March 11, 2022 |
| IC Time | 8:00 PM |
| Players | Aed, Keira |
| Location | The Sideshow |
| Spheres | Mage, Changeling |
The club is in full gear this time of night, the current flavor of performer on stage for this time of night one of the Firedancers that the club employs. The music is up, the dinner crowd is filtering out for the night and the drinking and dancing sort are starting to become the major patrons in the room.
Keira is over near the door, just past the security check so she can look the room over more easily, checking out the mood of those coming and going. She's smiling, and looking for other smiles as well.
The newcomer is dressed for a neutral impact - hoodie, jeans, hiking boots. Over one shoulder is a canvas rucksack with what may be about two gallons of milk in it, judging from its size and contours, while he has no other items of merit in his hands; no phone, cigarette, drink. Just an everyday Aed, looking from space to space, conspicuously avoiding eye contact, swerving into the crowd smoothly.
At finding an open space near a bar, he takes a seat, exhaling slowly, and glances to the bartender, holding up two fingers in the universal symbol for: a beer and a buddy, thank you, and paying in cash. When his eyes sweep across the door where Keira is, he furrows his brow, angling his head at seeing her. Huh. His expression is artfully void of most emotional cues.
Playing the good hostess, or she just is, she bids the few remaining families departing a good evening and invites them to come again. Some of the younger ones have balloons, and from the ones floating up amongst the lights, some have left without them. It is a tangible thing, the vibe change that slowly comes over the place as the tables are bussed and cleaned for the night. Food is still an option, but the kitchen does drop back to what would be considered bar fare.
As the last of the dinner crowd leaves, Keira says something to one of the security guards and then the stack of wristbands comes out; the easy flag for anyone not of drinking age in the club. Then she moves on over towards the bar to check on the supply for the night, giving Aed a curious look and a smile as she passes him by. "Welcome to the Sideshow."
"Uh, thanks," Aed says, his tone strained, as if working vocally were problematic. He clears his throat, and then looks back to Keira. "I mean, yeah, this place, it's.. well, kind of cool." He has a soft, wounded smirk, then gestures with his just-delivered bottle; he's tipping with a five on an eight-dollar order. Not a rich man, apparently. "I like the decor. Met a guy, where I, uh, used to live, he worked in a carnival for a long time. Told me some fun, kind-of-weird stories."
With that all out in the open, he resumes drinking, careful in his body positioning to secure the rucksack between his feet, the strap dangling over one of his knees. Whatever it is inside of it, he's deeply defensive about it staying with and close to him at all times. Then his eyes look to Keira's. "You work here, or just a friendly regular?"
Keira nods, the smile remaining though she looks at him with a touch of concern for a moment. There and gone again as he starts to talk. "Thank you. We've been here for almost twelve years now, people seem to enjoy it quite a bit. Family oriented during the day, a little less at night. Something for everyone." She shrugs and moves past to slip behind the bar, getting herself a glass of water.
She takes a long drink before answering his question. "I own it." She refills then steps to the side and out of the bartenders way. "Couple of years now, but I've been coming here for a long time even before that."
With raised eyebrows, Aed says, "Okay, I'm all kinds of impressed," with a tone conveying exactly that - he's apparently quite impressed. "It's a good set-up, lets you get the best of both worlds. Daytime tourist cash.. nighttime locals. I can dig that." And then he raises his bottle in salute to Keira, gesturing to the second beer. "I, uh, don't drink often. As soon as I saw the theme, kind of had to step off of the wagon again. Besides, what's sixteen years, really, in the grand scheme of things?" He rolls his eyes, smirking as he shakes his head, once more looking over the room.
As he does so, he gestures vaguely to someone juggling. "About five minutes ago, I saw that guy up the street, working at the coffee place." Then he furrows his brow, looking back to Keira, swiveling in his chair, elbow resting on the bar. "That, uh, kind of thing happen often? People.. just.. juggle?" He seems rather baffled.
She glances from him to the bottle, her eyebrows lifting up a little. "Are you sure you want to then? I make a pretty mean Shirley Temple." She offers, the grin starting to curve her lips a little more. "Or what's the other one...Roy Rodgers. Cherry or Orange I believe is the difference." She shrugs a little bit, glancing from the bottle back to him. "I mean, I know we've got good drinks, but you don't have to climb off the wagon to have one.
She looks to the man that has caught Aed's attention and nods. "In between acts we encourage people to get up on stage and share unique or fun talents they may have. Dancers, singers. Even jugglers. Gets people invested in the place, and curious. No night is ever the same twice."
"Nah," Aed says, then gestures behind the bar, once more using his bottle as a pointer. "When you make a Roy Rogers, it's cola and grenadine." Then he takes a quick swallow of his beer, exhaling slowly, eyes closed. Before opening them, he continues. "Shirley Temple is ginger ale or lemon-lime and grenadine. Common error." He shrugs, then his eyes are open, looking a little watery. "Besides, I'd already had a swallow of it. No sense tossing it back up, just to keep to 'pure' status." This has him smirking again, and he looks Keira over again.
Without using the bottle as a pointer, just his thumb, he announces, "My name is Aed. Just got into town. I, uh, kind of like this place." Whether he means The Sideshow or the town, in general, it's unclear.
She ahhs softly and snaps her fingers. "And that's why I pay the bartender." Laughing softly. "I don't do much fixing fortunately, unless juice and vodka counts. Those are pretty much infallible combinations if you ask me." Her expression softens a little, watching him as he gets watery downing the beer. "Okay...if you're sure. I don't mind giving you the money back and just making you something that goes down a little easier."
She nods again and smiles. "It's a good place. Has it's ups and downs just like anywhere. But you find your people, get settled in...it's easy enough to make your own way here." Not specifying which she means either, the lingering smile growing a touch.
Shaking his head, Aed says, "It's all good," with a raise of one eyebrow. "Not to be, uh, well 'that guy', it's.. when someone introduces themself, that's, uh, kind of the cue for doing the same in reply, isn't it?" He shrugs, then drinks about two-thirds of his first bottle, swallowing harshly, sighing as he sets it aside. "Different strokes for different folks, I suppose." Then he chuckles, glancing to the bartender. "Shirley Temple Black, please. Two."
Then he cuts his eyes to Keira again. "Presumably, you also drink. When you do, what is it?" The drink he ordered: it's a Shirley Temple, save it has a shot of dark rum added to it. A ten-dollar bill is left on the bar, followed by a five, and he keeps his hand on them, looking to her with interest.
She blinks a couple times, then laughs. "I didn't did I. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. Little scattered sometimes." She even goes as far as to offer her hand to him. "I'm Keira, pleasure to meet you Aed. Welcome to Prospect and The Sideshow." She looks upwards in thought, then back to him, her head tilting and her eyes squinting a little as she lightly teases. "I think I covered it that time, but let me know, I wouldn't be surprised if I left something out."
The inquiry about what she drinks has her grinning, "Usually something fruity with sticks of random snacks shoved into it, but if you're inquiring after this particular evening..." She thinks, then looks to the bartender as he slides back around as there's the hint of more drinks needed. "Irish coffee." Keira waves away the additional money. "This one is on the house, consider it a welcome to town."
"Nah," Aed says, nudging the ten, not the full fifteen, to the bartender, and nodding to them in recognition of: boss is paying for part, not all, of his drinks. "I appreciate the offer, though." Then he's draining his first bottle, looking satisfied, setting it to the side, glancing back to Keira again. "Nice to meetcha. I, uh, used to bartend a little, when I was in my twenties. Couple of roadhouses, a truck stop bar. That kind of thing." He shrugs, then glances down to the second beer.
Licking his lips, he pauses, then rethinks grabbing, settling for looking back to Keira again. "I get the feeling that Prospect is, in a way, kind of an extension of this place, wouldn't you say?" He vaguely motions to the outer world, then adds, "On account of the, uh, well, diverse communities. Met some pretty hard souls, couple of hippies, few.. well, I guess they were underwear models in their off-duty hours." Another shrug. "So many pretty people, then.. well, folks like me." Withered, aged, battle-scarred.
She looks like she might argue, but in the end sighs softly and lets him do what he likes. A nod to the bartender as he goes to make the drink, and goes ahead making Keira hers too. Her eyebrow lifts slowly and she looks at him curiously. "Are you looking for work?" She finishes off her glass of water, putting the empty in the bin for cleaning under the bar.
Keira smiles and nods. "It is a very...eclectic community. One neighborhood to the next and you never know who you're going to get." The smile looking terribly amused, but it fades a little bit and her eyebrows raise. "You don't think you have anything beautiful about yourself? Everyone has something." She shakes her head, warm scolding entering her tone.
Raising his eyebrows, Aed says, "What, me?" as he slides the second beer into his hand, not yet drinking it, just collecting the condensation from it onto his hand. "Nah, I'm already more or less gainfully employed. Place is called 'the Lucky Shamrock'. Mostly, it's bar-back, janitorial, that sort of thing. Working for a friend of my wife's family." There's an indentation on his left hand's ring finger where a wedding band should be, yet isn't.
Taking his first swallow of the second beer, he pauses before he speaks. "Something beautiful about myself?" Then he shrugs, smirking as he shakes his head. "Not really, Keira, no. I just got out of prison about ten days ago. If there's anything beautiful in there, someone is killing it, or dying over it. It's the ugliest thing in the world, that place." It seems to suit him, really. Hard edges and rough surfaces. No polish to him whatsoever.
She takes note of these things. Little flickers of her eyes here and there that note the intention on his finger, and the way he looks worn and tired. A little sigh slips out and she walks around to his side of the bar, sliding the seat out next to him to sit down on it. A little scooting brings her up against the side, so she can reach her drink comfortably when it arrives. "Everyone has something beautiful inside them." She says firmly, her hands folding on the bar. "The darkest, terribly places in the universe can't take them away. We may hide them, protect them, sometimes even from ourselves, but they are always there."
She tilts her head, watching him with that soft smile and that hint of curiosity in her eyes. "You have something. You may not remember it right now, because you spent too much time in the dark, but sooner or later it will find you again. Sometimes it takes time."
"I'm happy to hear you say that," Aed says, his smile a little brittle, a tinge sad, yet earnest. "It's, uh, not really going to be my lot in life, I'd say, to have that again." Then he holds his hand, the one with the ring indentation. "The most beautiful thing in the world was stolen from me. Cruelly, and.. it.. did not leave me whole nor capable of being whole again." He sets his hand down, swallowing the remnants of the second beer, his throat working to empty in a rapid succession of swallows.
He nods to her, then rises to his feet, picking up one of the Shirley Temple Blacks, raising it in front of her. A toast, it seems. "To the idea that I'm wrong, you're right, and something beautiful can still happen, then." And with that, he downs the drink, picking up his rucksack with a sweep of his foot, kicking it up into his grasp. "Thanks for the drink, Keira. It's.. a rare thing, seeing a generous person when they're dealing with a convicted felon." A small, not-entirely-pleasant chuckle follows; he may not be used to laughing like normal people do, apparently.
She looks to his hand as he holds it up, the smile never faltering. "Ah, see, you are used to thinking in the short term. I too have lost my great love." Her words softly spoken, "But even though we may not be together in this life, I have hope for the next, or the next after that. I can be very tenacious." The smile grows a little bit. "You will find her again. May not be tomorrow, or in this life, but souls that are meant to be find one another again." She sounds quite firm, then reaches to collect her coffee. Then she toasts him in return.
Inclining her head to him she gives him another soft smile. "Of course, Aed. You're a person, just like the next. I am not one to pass judgement on another, that isn't my place in the world. I offer sanctuary to those that need it. Even if it's just a conversation and a drink."
He's two steps away when he pauses, hearing a word from Keira, then casts his eye over his shoulder to her. "Judgment," he says, "Oh, me and that word, we go back a looong way, Keira, and some folks, they'll learn it just as good as I did." There's a pause. "You do have my sympathies, though." Then he adjusts the strap on his rucksack, hoisting it to his shoulder, and is walking into the crowd, being absorbed by it, vanishing in increments; moving through it, he's like water between rocks, invisible soon after those first steps.
At the bar, his two bottles continue to sweat chilly vapors, their contents emptied, the exteriors somehow a little cooler than they should be. Peculiar. Maybe the refrigerator in the drink well is acting up, or something similar. Odd. Like the man who just left.
