Casino Blues

The casino is in fine form today, with plenty of people wandering about laying their bets and drinking their way into another round of debt. One of the people here however is not looking to gamble. There is a lovely sildanyar talking with one of the hostesses, or rather more accurately being talked /to/. The elf is dressed in robes of blue, and has long blue hair that graduates to white at the end and whom is entirely recognizable on sight by those who know the slender figure.

"I said no!"

"Please?" There's finally a soft reply which carries surprisingly well over the din of gambling as the elf speaks up.

"There's no room in that corner for you to play your silly harp. Now go gamble or something."

Nels is gambling at one of the tables near where Shinzin is arguing with the manager, and collects his meager winnings after flipping a coin to the dealer. He looks over, thoughtfully, and nudges the fellow next to him, then snickers.

There is one watching the commotion, sat near the bar is a grim figure, slender and pale. He's sat with his legs crossed, rugged leather boots laced up intricately and immaculately. In his hand is a drink of some vague liquid, his eyes intently watching the altercation. In his other hand is a lovely walking cane that he's twirling idly, almost like a baton, and along his belt are weapons. It's clear that this is a man who makes his living violently, or at least that's the image he wants to project. He can't help but put out other vibes as well. The feeling of old money, of good breeding mixed with poor experience.

Even still, he watches.

A clean-shaven, blond Aesir man in his mid-to-late 20s is wandering the floor of the casino, checking out what games there are. He's wearing a blue tunic that has a silver star and a blue rose neatly embroidered on the collar. His attention comes to rest on a slightly depressed "pit" with rubber mats covering the floor. A sign by it says, "Martial Arts bouts. Place wagers with bookkee" above an arrow that points to a seat in which an heavily warted gobber sits looking bored in his green eyeshades. The man walks up to the bookkee and says, "When's the next bout?" to which the gobber says, "Whenever you're ready, pretty boy. You fight and I'll find someone to fight ya." The man looks nervous.

In from the cold comes another wee figure, wrapped up tightly in furs, with only their red eyes showing. They slowly make their way more deeply into the casino.

The elf sighs in defeat but nods, looking around the casino as if only now seeing it for what it is. The hostess wanders off, seemingly satisfied and the sildanyar watches the disappearance with keen eyes. A small smile plays across Shizin's lips and the bard slips into the corner gracefully. There Shizin sits down, all the way on the ground where the elf can hardly be seen at all. Then pulls out a lovingly crafted lap harp and begins to play.

Considering the noise one might think that music would not be heard, but this music seeps around the loud calls for chips and drinks and food. It curls around the corners and draws in those that might listen. The music is hauntingly beautiful, speaking of overwhelming loneliness. Something in it makes the feeling rise up and be remembered. Some people at the tables stop for a second, hearing the music and feeling it, trying to find the invisible source that calls out.

Nels grumbles as the elf starts playing anyhow, and it's all elfy stuff. He assumes it's elfy stuff, it's got nothing for him. "Something we can dance to, if you're gonna play," he shouts toward Shizin, though whether he can be heard above the background din is questionable.

The wee figure in fur ends up staring at Shizin, standing before the harp-playing Elf. The hood is pulled back to reveal the face of a Gobbo. "What is it called?", she wonders. "The song, I mean."

His eyes lit up when he watched the performance. Others were criticizing the sounds, but they were capturing Rondel's attention in a way that entranced him. He'd wait until the figure seemed like they might be finished, and only then would the tall, thin figure flip a coin across the casino toward the bard, followed by one more.

"Continue."

Was it a request? Was it a command? Whatever it was, it was accompanied by two whole gold pieces, the voice itself being deep and quiet in a loud way.

The flight across the room of first one then a second gold piece catches many eyes in this Mecca of money. One of those who notice is the man by the fight pit. He turns and sees the leather-clad man-in-black, and strides confidently toward him. He says, "That was amazing. Hi. I'm Deak, and I coach a youth soccer team here in Goblintown. I think they'd love it if you came to give them some tips on accurate aiming." (Is this blonde-haired, blue-eyed man for real?)

It is not particularly surprising that Shizin waits until the song has run its course to answer the question. "Faer Solum." The elf is flushing, the color showing up on pale cheeks and turning the tattoos on either side of the sildanyar's face a sort of purple color. "I wrote it." Lavender eyes flicker toward the voice that demanded a different kind of music so that Shizin misses that coins are being thrown. The sildanyar makes a distressed noise and fails utterly to catch them. It seems that payment was not expected. Even so Shizin collects the coin and nods to the figure that tossed them before beginning again.

This time the song is more different in a subtle way. A song of fighting against the dark. The song suggests deeply that the darkness, the loneliness is winning. It is a desperate sort of fight without knowing if winning against such a vast force is possible. The song sinks down and down.

The Gobber looks up, as if the casino were raining coins upon them, and she looks slightly disappointed that the Elf keeps both. "That sounds pretty.", she says and her ears perk up at the next song that starts. She's soon sniffling at the somber tone.

Nels grumbles as the bard fails to shift to something upbeat, and wanders over to the bar. He calls for a drink, and pushes a couple coins across the bartop. When his drink arrives, he drinks deeply and sighs at depressing music.

Just as Shinzin was not ready to catch their 'payment', so it seemed that Rondel was unprepared for the question of the strapping blonde man. The finely dressed gentleman glanced up at the man from the north with a raised brow, his walking cane briefly stopping in his hand so that he could bring it down to the ground, and keep his hand rested upon the very top of it. Just in case it was needed. His left kept the cigarette holder steady, and amidst a plume of purple smoke, the man spoke with that immediately identifiable voice of his.

"I'm sorry, I did not have time for games, growing up. My time is usually spent knee-deep in the ichor and innards of beasts."

Was this man mocking him? Rondel couldn't tell, but he was wary all the same.

Deak looks ENTIRELY like he's out of his element in a place like this, but either doesn't care or is utterly clueless about it. Frankly, the impression he gives off is of a boy scout in a bar... just /wrong/, but anyway, at Rondel's brusque reply, he says, "Okay then, but wading through monster guts can be a drag, you know. Kicking a ball around might be a nice way to restore your spirits once in a while." He says this as if he's never had the need to restore his spirits in all his born days. His buoyant cheerfulness is at once charming and so out of place that it's either entertaining or downright creepy.

Shizin allows the song being played to trail off as the elf turns toward the one who offered payment and blinks twice. Once at the words spoken and once in recognition. With grace the elf rises upwards and tucks the harp away, offering a polite nod to the goblin who has been listening so kindly to the music before making way toward the two speaking. There Shizin offers a nod to them both, smiling with warmth at them both. "Deak." The softly spoken name carries just as Shizin's voice had when speaking to the hostess. It is a voice which is slightly masculine, and sounds like it is meant to be singing. The elf nods again to Rondel. "I am Shizin Hinota."

Choler nods to the elf, and watches him as he walks away. When he stops to talk with the other two, she follows quietly. While he is distracted, she reaches up to turn his hands over, seeing if he has, indeed, pocketed the two coins already. Looking slightly disappointed, the be-furred Gobbo moves to the bar itself, and settles onto one of the stools there.

The sitting man looked between the bright, chipper man and the elven musician. Between everyone present, it seemed that he was perhaps a bit too prepared for danger. Even with him relinquishing his spear to be held in the casino's waiting room, he had a number of things on his person that could be considered 'lethal'. Even still, his body language suggested that nobody was in danger. Even if he wasn't entirely comfortable with this crowd that was now gathered around him, putting a bit of a damper on the whole 'dark stranger alone in the corner' vibe he had been putting out earlier.

"I am...Rondel."

What was the harm in sharing his professional name? He reasoned to himself that perhaps this was the necessary step in advertising oneself as a hunter and professional, so that one could get hired. Even still, he glanced over to Shizin, and nodded his head slightly.

"You're quite well trained. I briefly studied the viol, myself. But found I had no talent for it."

Deak smiles at Shizin, with a certain... pity? compassion? ... Anyway he reaches out and pats the elf on the back and says, "Heya, bud. Alway nice to hear you play." Sensing Rondel's slight unease at becoming the sudden center of attention, he steps back behind the others.

Shizin gives a silently questioning head tilt to Deak, and like Deak takes a step back away from Rondel to give the other space. It is clear that the elf is shy, lavender eyes not quite ever seeming to meet anyone's gaze. The elf gives Randel attention for now, nodding. "Do you prefer it?" The elf seems to be even more uncomfortable than a moment before. "The violin?"

Choler returns to Shizin's side and tugs on his elbow, offering up a delicate looking wine glass, which is filled with a deep purple liquid. "I do not know for certain, but the barkeep assures me this is elven wine, more specifically, a kind made by the Dawn elves... which I assume you are? A way of saying thank you." The wee Gobbo smiles toothily.

"I'm not certain I 'prefer' anything. Certainly, I enjoyed your performance, and I'm not certain a change in instrument would have affected your performance. It's like the famous wizarding argument of two cats in two boxes, you know."

The more he speaks, the more one can notice his formal accent, and the way that he keeps others at arms length. After a few moments of this, the man finally uncrosses his legs, rising to his feet and his full 6'4 height.

"I've got to go. Thank you all for your time."

Deak says quietly, "I should head back soon. It'll be time for evening prayer soon. You can come hang out later, if you want." Then he straightens up and says to the others, "Althea's compassion be upon you all. It was good to meet you." He turns and leaves.

Shizin is utterly surprised - and it is clear from the expression on the elfs face - that this is so; to be offered a drink. The elf flushes deeply and accepts the glass with a bow of the head that hides pale features behind a veil of blue hair for a moment. "My thanks." The glass is pulled a bit closer and with a nod to those leaving Shizin looks at the one who bought the drink with continued surprise. "I am Shizin Hinota, and you?"

Choler stares at Rondel stands, her jaw dropping at his height. She blinks a few times, and then offers Deak a wave as he, too, makes to leave. The Gobbo grins as the Elf takes the drink, and she offers a formal bow in return. "I am Choler Kor."

Shizin smiles gently at Choler. "You are very kind." The elf stares at the glass of wine if somewhat uncertain what to do with it beyond taking a sip.

Choler blinks at the Elf after a few moments. "Does it smell off?", she wonders quietly. "I could go get another one, if you like? I don't know much about wine, so, I wouldn't know." The Gobbo shrugs and she grins. "It's just a thank you. I don't have much in the way of coin, and I figured instead of insulting you with silvers, a glass of something that tastes like home might be better?"

The elf flushes again and shakes blue hair back and forth. "It is perfect." The glass is settled into Shizin's pale fingers comfortably, and close to the body. With eyes lowered it is hard to tell what the elf is thinking, but it is clear that Shizin does not quite seem to know what to say. "It seems too generous." The words come at last, embarrassed and yet as clearly spoken as any other statement that Shizin has made.

Choler giggles and shakes her head. "It is the least I could do. I do not have enough coin to be what I would consider 'too' generous.", she says, tugging on his elbow slightly, gesturing to the table he'd hidden behind previously. "Did you wish to sit a while? Are you thinking of playing more?"

Shizin follows obediently, seemingly satisfied with that. When they reach the table Shizin instead sits on the floor. Long fingers soothe over the elf's robes, everything falling into place neatly. Then Shizin sits the glass nearby, wetting the throat with it briefly and then pulling out the harp from before. There are metal rings on some of Shizin's fingers and they are clear now as they touch the strings reverently. "I will play for you."

The Gobbo begins shrugging out of her furs while Shizin settles on the floor and begins to play. She sets her warmer clothes upon a chair, and sits cross-legged before the Elf, dressed in a deep red gi. Choler grins to him and nods. "That is nice of you to do so."

The song this time is one of home. It begins in that lonely way, soft and full of the want to be returned to where one belongs to. Then it begins to change slowly, growing into the thought of home. The remembrance of the warmth what a true home can feel like. Not merely a house, but a place of true belonging. Shizin's fingers play over the strings and the silver bands on each finger roll out a twinkling sound like laughter. Going home, the travel to get there that lifts the heart.

At the tables people are leaving, mumbling about the lateness of the hour and people that they want to return to. The song has that effect on people, drawing them out of their gambling and even if they do not really /listen/ to the music it is speaking to them just the same.

Suddenly the hostess reappears, her face angry. "I told you no! Get out of here! You're driving the customers off!"

Embarrassed Shizin's fingers stop on the harp. Pale lips open and close but no response comes out of the clearly shocked sildanyar.

The Gobbo is completely enraptured by the Elf's song, apparently lost in some daydream she knows never existed. At the interruption, she looks lost for a moment. Then upset. Then ANGRY. She slowly stands, and turns to face the hostess. "Stuff a well used Orc sock into it, lady.", she says, the rage in her eyes slowly mellowing into impassiveness. "We were just leaving." She starts piling all the furs on again, and soon tugs on the Elf's elbow. "Come. We will find a bar or tavern where people will throng to, to hear such wonderful play." Choler surreptitiously snags the wine glass too, holding it out of view.

Confused, but glad of someone's aid Shizin rises upwards and nods politely to the hostess. Not a single word leaves the elf's lips until they are far out of earshot of the hostess. "Thank you." This time the words are spoken in an undertone that carries to Choler's ears and no further than that. Together they leave the casino, and Shizin at least does not spare it a backwards glance.

-End-