Blue Skies

Jens arrived home carrying a book in his hand. He checked his pocket watch which read 4:30PM. With head up he walked up the stairs of the front porch. One of the steps creaked as he stepped on it.

He purposely ignored the heads peeking out from both sides of the house. Ah, the ambush was set and here came the decoy. His seven year old son opened the door inwards and came out to him with a wooden airship in each hand. One flying after the other.

"Want to play with me daddy?"
"Sure."

Hans put an airship in his hand and then jumped backwards into the house. Julia sprang from the left side of the house and hurled a ball at him. He jumped out of its path. Another ball from the other direction connected with his hat, knocking it off his head. He snapped his head to the right where Lili stood, pointing at him, laughing. Julia and Hans laughed too. Jens roared with laughter as Lili said, "We gotcha!" Hans scooped up the fallen hat and set it on his head. It promptly covered his eyes before he moved it back. Lili and Julia closed the distance and each gave their father a hug before they walked into the house together.

"Hans, don't go to far with my hat tonight. I'll need it when I go down to Tinker's later."

His wife wrapped her arms around him and they kissed. "I've made your favorite dinner tonight."
"Well, in that case, I'll eat first and then go down to the tavern."

After dinner he collected his hat from Hans and then left for Tinker's Tavern. He often went there to get news about the races and in general to keep up with news that didn't always make the paper. He walked slowly, enjoying the gentle breeze. Today was an exceptionally good day for him since nothing stressful had happened at work. This put him in a good mood. At this pace it would take him fifteen minutes or so to get there. Since Jens was not in a hurry, he didn't care.

He stopped by a homeless fellow at his usual spot. Careful not to mess up his formula's he pulled some coins out of his pocket and handed them to the man. He smiled at him and said, "I've had a good day today and with these coins I hope you can have a fine ending to your day." Jens then straightened up and finished his walk to the tavern. He strode in, removed his hat, moved forward enough to be out of the way of the door, and scanned the room deciding where to sit.

 

Running. Every night he runs. Perhaps it's the reason he's in such good physical shape. Young Thomas Adams and his older brother, Randall, have done an incredible job thus far of keeping under the radar in Nemdee. Only the underworld really knows who these brothers are.

Problem is, only the underworld cares about their existence. If it were up to said underworld, Tommy would be an only child. Many times Randy has been caught cheating in poker or owing a substantial amount of money. Usually, Tommy would speak on his brother's behalf, attempting to set up a plan to make amends. This time was a little different.

Randy exchanged looks with the wife of an important man in the Nemdee free criminal system. As usual, Randy was cocky, and stupidity followed his cockiness very closely. Guns were drawn, threats were made, and one helluva window escape was accomplished by the two brothers.

As the two ran, Randall looked behind them. He stopped his brother. Randall spoke fast to get his younger brother out of danger. They were catching their when Randall spoke.

"Okay... go across the street... into that tavern."

Tommy looked at the building that read, The Tinker's Tavern. Gasping for air, he looked around and saw none of their chasers in sight. It was probably the back alleys they crossed to get to this street.

"So where will you be going?"

Randall looked around and saw the brothel. He grinned wide.

"I'm going to say hello to Marlene."

He turned Tommy in the direction of the tavern.

"Now go... and don't come back to the house for a couple days. Until we know we're in the clear. They should be coming for me, not you. If you don't see me in a couple of days, I'm sorry."

Randy ran to the brothel. Tommy ran to the tavern until he was about ten feet from it, then he changed his step to look a bit more poised as if he meant to walk into the hot spot. He had always seen this place, but never had the opportunity to go inside. Generally, he wouldn't have enough money to hang out in a joint like this, but he and Randy grabbed the majority of the money from the poker table before their escape.

He pulled a handkerchief and wiped the smudge from his boots and fixed his vest. The top button to his dress shirt was never buttoned since he never wore a tie. He looked at his pocketwatch. It would usually be too early for such an episode, but it already happened, so in the tavern Tommy goes.

After fixing his hair, he takes a stool. Still catching his breath, he's approached by the bartender.

"What'll be, pal?"

"Shot of Wild Turkey."

Tommy looks around the spot. It's very busy in here. Packed with lots of people. A safe place for him to be. Then he sees the plethora of gorgeous ladies. He turns back to his seat and stares down at the bar, his hands once again fixing his hair.

 

Rose's intro

A small knot of people walked down the sidewalk as the day burnished into evening, talking loudly and laughing, bumping into each other, dizzy with freedom under the streetlamps that a shabby little man was lighting, one by one.

Not that her efforts at the theater were a drudgery, Rose thought as she watched Richard take another swig from his silver pocket flask, his silk top hat pushed far back on his head, she enjoyed her work even if she did have to put up with the foibles of other cast members.

Black-haired Carmine, walking arm-in-arm with Rose, was laughing at one of Richard’s comments and ignoring the other male member of their party, young Ben who had been ineffectually trying to gain Carmine’s attention since the latest production had been cast. Rose felt sympathy for Ben but knew that Carmine was actually doing him a favor.

“Perhaps I’ll just head home,” Rose said, thinking that not only was Tinker’s Tavern going to be hot, crowded, and noisy but she also was a little tired of her fellow cast members. They were nice enough but day and evening with people from work was a bit much.

“Nonsense!” Richard roared and passersby stared at him, “You have to be with us.”

“Oh please do come with us,” Carmine said pleadingly, “otherwise who will chaperon me with Richard?” She ignored the pleading glance that Ben shot her.

Rose gave in with good grace. One must eat after all and maybe there would be someone interesting at Tinker’s on this evening.

People stared as Richard shoved through the crowd at Tinker’s laughingly telling the other patrons to ‘Make way for the two most beautiful women in the world’ as Ben slinked in behind them.

They found a central table, right where Richard wanted to be, and Rose shook her head with a smile, touching the rose in her hair and smoothing her deep-red silky suit with it’s form-fitting jacket and long graceful skirt as she sat.

 

Danny stood in front of a mirror, waving around a shiny silver blade with a bronze handle. His eyes glittered as he marveled at the sword's beauty. "I never get tired of doing this."

His mentor and boss, an elderly sword welder named Adrian, smiled and replied, " Neither do I! You seem to be a quick learner in this. You made that blade practically by yourself."

"I think that is stretching it a bit."

"I never stretch."

Danny moved the blade in poses of a warrior. He let his imagination get the better of him. He imagined himself a fine warrior, slaying the unjust with just a swing of might blade. Who were these unjust? In this daydream, they were the other boys at the boarding school where Danny resided. There was not a soul among them he considered his friend. At best, he was indifferent to a select few who left him in peace. The others, they lived to torment Danny. They pulled at least one prank a week on him. Some infamous ones had been spiking his food with alcohol, and tricking him into skinny dipping in the lake, only to steal his clothes and lock him out of the dorms, naked.

As their many embarrassing pranks came back to him, Danny smiled as in his daydream, these bullies were cut down like ants under the feet of a galloping horse. When the boys were down, another enemy appeared before Danny. He wore all black and his mere presence struck an uncontrollable level of fear into Danny's heart. His torturer! As Danny stood petrified in fear, he was awakened out of his daydream by the shouting of his own name, coming from his mentor.

Embarrassed that he had made a fool of himself, he bowed to his master and apologized.

His apology was met with a warm reply, "Tis alright child. Everyone needs a daydream occasionally."

Grasping the sword in his right hand, Danny swung it around one final time before presenting it to Adrian. "Here you are master."

Motions and sounds ceased for nearly ten seconds as Adrian stared at the blade, pushing Danny's hands away, he said, "Keep it!"

Astonished and fearful simultaneously, Danny said, "What? Why? Is there something wrong with it? Did I screw it up?"

Adrian chuckled. "Oh no, it is a fine blade, as fine as any other I sell."

"So then, you should take it up front and put it with the others."

"You've worked here since you started at your boarding school, and never once have you ever had a blade of your own."

"I don't feel worthy to wield such a fine weapon. I am not skilled in combat. Such a fine blade would suit me about as much as a sculpture. It is better to sell it to somebody more capable. This is what I wish."

Impressed, Adrian said, "Very well. We shall select that blade, but you will select another to keep as your own."

"But Sir!"

"I will not hear another word about it. Come, bring the blade up front and you will select another to keep as your own."

Danny followed his master into the front of the humble store. The walls were covered with shelves, and on the shelves sat blades of many varieties. Each had been handmade by Adrian and his sensitive little apprentice.

Adrian pointed to an empty shelf near the door. He said, "That one, place the sword you made on there." Danny obeyed without haste. He gently placed the sword on the shelf and took a step back. Perhaps it was his bias but among the other swords, the one he had made seemed to shine brighter.

Adrian said, "NOW! Onto your own weapon. Select a blade of your own."

Danny made one last attempt at protesting. "I am not worthy to own a blade. I will not accept such a fine blade as the ones you sell."

"Not all the blades I sell are magnificent. Come." He walked Danny over to the counter and pointed to a small dagger which rested on the top. "Do you remember this?" He asked!

Danny's eyes widened. "You kept this?"

Adrian replied, "Indeed I did. It is the first blade you made after becoming my apprentice. You tried too hard to do it on your own, and it didn't come out as you liked. But, it is a fine dagger. It requires less skill to use than a full-sized blade. But in the right hands, it can be just as powerful. So, you feel you are not worthy for a sword, than take this." He handed Danny the dagger by it's small hilt. Danny was nearly moved to tears, but he held them back.

He took the blade in his hands and marveled at it. As he looked at it now, it seemed much better than what it had looked like when he had first made it. But he still recognized it as his own work.

Gripping the hilt of his dagger, he placed it securely in his robe and said, "Thank you master. Now I must be getting home, I am expected for supper."

"Very well! I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight master!"

Adrian watched as Danny walked out the front door, letting in a small gust of wind in the process.

Later that night, Danny prepared to go to bed in his cramped dorm. His room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight shining in through the small window. He had disrobed for the night. He sat on his bed, staring at the dagger, wonder if somebody as weak as him was even fit to hold an inferior blade. As if answering his question, a light seemed to zip across the blade, giving Danny a sense of confidence. It was a feeling he had known little of since his torturing began. He had been victimized for so long, but it seemed that for once, he was being praised. He placed the blade securely under his mattress and pulled up the covers, climbing under their warm embrace. He pulled them over his body, leaving only his head exposed. Shortly, he was consumed by sleep, and with it, dreams.

The smack of a pillow suddenly woke Danny from his sleep. He glanced out the window, thinking it was morning, but it was still dark. He turned to see a boy glaring down at him. Arthur Larkin, his greatest antagonist. Arthur violently ripped the covers off of Danny, exposing Danny to cold air.

Arthur said, "You got a job to do."

Danny asked, "And what might that be?"

"It looks like the idiots in charge forgot to get us breakfast. So you gotta go and pick it up at Tinker's Tavern. It's ready to be picked up, don't worry."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because I got things to do. Plus, the dorm head specifically asked for you to get it. After you painted your name all over the walls last week, she thinks you owe it to us."

"You know as well as I do that you did that."

Arthur smiled sadistically. "The truth is of no consequence. You have orders. Do them, or face penalty. Now get some clothes on and get going."

Arthur left the room. Danny scowled at him for a moment before quickly putting back on his casual clothes. He grabbed the dagger from under his mattress and quickly departed for the tavern. He arrived in fifteen minutes, but the order wasn't ready as Patrick had said. In fact, there was no order placed. Arthur had done it again. Now Danny was alone, in a strange place, with strange people.

 

“So, what are we looking at?” Desmond Monroe leant against one of the large airships. The town seemed peaceful, too peaceful for a town so close to the mountains. So unaware of the fact that there was an hostile battleship less then an hour away. Of course they hadn’t been able to bring the Humility all the way to the town; a ship that size would be spotted by the nearby military base. Instead, they had used two smaller crafts to approach the city. A dozen people in each craft.

“A large town, sir. Five, maybe six thousand people. Probably some high ranking military officials who don’t feel like sleeping in the barracks.” Desmond nodded at the man that had just spoken. “Right. I meant, what is the name of that town.” The man frowned. Their captain was a weird man. “Nemdée, sir.”

Desmond straightened himself before turning to the small crowd that stood near the two crafts. “We all know our tasks. I’m going in, I find our target, I mark the spot. You do your thing. In and out before any Emenisian battleship knows we’re here. Give me an hour.” The men nodded and Desmond allowed himself to smile. These were the finest men in the Sahnethese felt. It was fitting they were here with him today. He turned around and started heading towards the town.

The target would want to be somewhere near the towns centre, to make sure there were a lot of witnesses. He would think that with so many people around, no one would dare to touch him. Little did he know that they had been tracking him all along. Desmond took one of the round mirrors out of his pocket to examine himself and rearrange his shoulder long hair. After returning the mirror to his pocket, he checked his holster, making sure his small handgun was loaded. He preferred larger weapons, but it would draw attention if he barged into town carrying a riflepack. And he didn’t want to draw attention just yet.

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The man accepted his drink, paid and sat down at one of the empty tables, trying hard not to draw attention to himself. More people started to pour into the tavern, and every time the door opened, he felt his hand twitch. More then once, he put a hand in his coat to touch the envelope. Perhaps coming here had been a bad idea.

 

The man Rory was in a showdown with changed his tone realising he had made a mistake. His eyes changed, a glimmer of the sober side inside him telling him to back off. "Be no need kid... Just er a mistake." the man wiped the table down with his sleeve not taking his eyes off the knife in Rory's hand.

"Glad we came to an understanding." Rory rose and the man stepped backwards showing a sense of unease. Once again his theatrics had worked well. He wasn't the brawling type the only injuries he'd ever caused had been on the race track. Competitive racing could be dangerous sometimes. He downed the rest of his pint and approached the bar that was now beginning to fill up. He wanted to get another order in before he had to que for to long.

"Single Malt please. 12 years?" the barman nodded and moved off returning with his drink and accepting the coin he was playing with in his hand. He could never just hold anything normally it always had to be twirled, flipped or whatever else he could do. He winked at a girl just down the bar as he smelt the malt. A different one from what he'd had at the other taverns in the area it seemed.

 

Miser stared at the coins in his hands. It was a bit surprising. He could save these for another time, but he could use these right now as well. He needed to make a decision. It had been such a long time since he had walked into civilization for once. He picked himself up and decided to walk around. Fine somewhere for the evening. A nice place. This was just one of those rare nights he certainly had to celebrate. Suddenly he found a nice little tavern, he heard about this place. Being the place of racers and fans of races. He walked inside, there were quite a lot of other people in here to. Most people more well dressed then him. He smiled slightly.

 

Alec, his bookstore only a few blocks from the tavern, decided to walk. He enjoyed the cool breeze and inviting chatter of pedestrians who passed, only vaguely aware of him as he walked on the edge of the sidewalk with his head aimed slightly toward the ground, hands in his jacket pockets, using his peripheral vision to take stock of each stranger that passed him.

As he rounded the corner he could see the bright lights of the tavern a couple of blocks down. People congregated in the street just in front, drinking and engaging in boisterous conversation effectively lubricated by the alcohol.

Alec smiled, soon he would be surrounded with inspiration for his novels, for even though he lacked the courage to present them to a publisher and was certain that his fiction would never grace a bookshelf, they were his secret passion. His fiction brought him more joy than his limited success with articles for "The Heart of Nemdee," the city's most prosperous newspaper, ever could.

As Alec slowly made progress to the pub, he noticed a glint from an alley. A filthy looking gang of young thugs, somewhere around their twenties seemed to be looking in his direction, one of them brandishing a knife. Alec quickly looked away and crossed the street as two of them approached, seemingly insulted that he had made eye contact with them. The others remained in the alley, laughing and watching.

"Hey mister!" one of them yelled. "Mister can you spare any coin? Me and my brother here aint ate in days."

The other one snickered "Yeah days... i could eat a horse Mister. You got enough to buy me a horse?"

"Why you walkin' so fast mister? You got somewhere to be?"

"Give us your wallet, bitch or i swear i'll gut you!"

Alec burst into a sprint toward the crowded Tavern, he could hear the boots clap against cobblestone as the ruffians gave chase, cheered on by those who'd stayed in the alley. People did nothing as he ran past, just continued on about their day a if a man being chased by thugs was an everyday occurance, which, Alec realized, was probably true in this part of town.

Alec darted through the open doors of the pub past the two hulking bouncers who knew him from previous "adventures." His pursuers did not follow. Heart racing and desperately out of breath, he made his way to the window and, spotting the boys, began smiling in between gasps at the two thugs. They smiled back as one of them held up his notebook opened to the first page which bore his stamp: "Property of Alec Valentine if found please return to Valentines Books" the address was listed below. Alec's heart sank as the other thug mockingly drug his knife across his throat in a silent threat before they disappeared into an alley.

Alec took a seat at the end of the bar.

"Usual Earl Grey tea Mr Valentine?" the bartender asked.

"Your strongest alcoholic beverage please."

"You sure? i thought you didn't drink. You look like hell by the way. Business bad today?" he said as he poured the drink and handed it to Alec.

"Something like that." Alec said downing it, whincing as it set fire to his innards.. "Keep them coming please."

 

Simon sat, alone, at his table in the corner. The tavern was beginning to fill and there were already quite a few interesting personalities in the room. He hadn't planned on staying long. Just a few minutes to take in the night life, he thought. But things were shaping up to be very interesting. He'd never seen so many strangers before. It was as if every person in town he'd never met decided to show up all at once. He couldn't focus on his new inventions here. And, for once, he didn't want to.

Scanning the room, he caught sight of a familiar face; Catrin Thornton. She taught at the school down the street from his shop. Though they weren't personally acquainted, he often saw her in passing and she occaisionally came by the shop. Simon didn't like sitting alone, and Ms. Thornton was certainly less of a stranger than the others in the room, so he approached her table and presented himself.

"I never imagined seeing you here, Ms. Thornton," he said, with a gentlemanly bow. "Is there room for one more?" he asked, panning his eyes from Catrin to the other lady seated with her. He recognized she was a teacher as well, but couldn't recall her name, no matter how hard he tried. "I would be honored to treat you both to dinner if you'd like."

 

Rory watched as a man pulled up a stool and ordered a drink. His breathing seemed laboured and his attention seemed to be more on the door than the tavern he had just entered. He was curious about the story behind this one as he necked a drink down. He leant over the bar as he was still a stool away and the chat in the place had the potential to drown out any attempt at converation from a distance.

"You look like you have a story to tell. Everything alright?" he said to Alec. If he'd had his hat on he would have tipped it to the man but he was in his race suit he was somewhat disapointed it had only attracted one drunk to mock him he had been hoping for some interested racing fans but reminded himself this was a bar and the boyish fans he was hoping for didn't belong in a bar.

 

The Tinker’s Tavern was clearly popular, a steady stream of customers coming through the door, chatting and laughing, ordering drinks and filling up the empty seats. Catrin felt herself relax, even begin to enjoy the evening’s outing. Georgia’s eyes kept turning to the door every time it was opened, but she was constantly disappointed – except for once, when a group of four walked through the door. One of the men was clearing the crowd, calling loudly,

“Make way for the two most beautiful women in the world,” much to the amusement of the two beauties that followed him, the fourth member of the group skulking a little way behind.

Catrin would have given them no more thought, if hadn’t been for Georgia seizing her arm in an iron grip and whispering in a voice even more high-pitched than usual, “Oh my gosh! That’s Rose Daughey! And oh my gosh, Carmine!”

“Carmine?” Catrin looked at her friend amusedly. “She only has one name?”

Georgia responded with a scathing look. “She doesn’t need more than one name. It’s Carmine! And Rose Daughey! I don’t believe it … I’ve seen their show so many times!”

“Have you.”

“Yes,” Georgia was oblivious to Catrin’s disinterest. “I can’t believe it’s really them! And isn’t their friend handsome?”

Catrin spared the man a glance. Yes, he was good looking – not that she doubted Georgia’s taste in men – but he was also more than a little inebriated already and clearly besotted with the raven-haired Carmine.

Turning back to Georgia, Catrin realised she would be hearing endlessly about Rose Daughey and Carmine until her friend’s latest suitor finally made an appearance. But clearly someone was looking out for her – as Georgia opened her mouth, she was interrupted by a young man stepping up to their table. Georgia glanced up, clearly hoping for Joshua, but while she was disappointed, Catrin was pleasantly surprised.

Simon Lancaster was an engineer who ran a shop a little way from the school. Catrin wasn’t very well acquainted with him, but knew him well enough to be pleased at his appearance. Though she would probably have been grateful to anyone interrupting Georgia at that moment.

"I never imagined seeing you here, Ms. Thornton," Simon greeted her with a bow. "Is there room for one more? I would be honored to treat you both to dinner if you'd like."

“Mr Lancaster! Please, do sit down.” Catrin gestured at the free seat opposite them. “We’re waiting for a friend of Georgia’s, a Mr Greyson.”

“Yes,” Georgia smiled beatifically. “My Joshua.”

Catrin rolled her eyes. Turning away, she was surprised to recognise another face; Alec Valentine, who had just entered and sat at a window table. Catrin was a regular visitor to his bookshop, purchasing volumes both for personal pleasure and her World Literature class at the school.

So, two people she knew … or maybe three, she corrected herself, catching sight of young adolescent boy with dark blond hair slinking nervously around. Catrin frowned. What on earth was Danny Hale doing here at this time of the evening? He was underage and it was past curfew.

She shook her head. Schoolboys. She would have to speak to him about this.

She turned back to Simon. “So, Mr Lancaster. How are you this evening?”

 

“Mr Lancaster! Please, do sit down.” Catrin gestured at the free seat opposite them. “We’re waiting for a friend of Georgia’s, a Mr Greyson.”

“Yes,” Georgia smiled beatifically. “My Joshua.”

Removing his hat, Simon took a seat across from Catrin. For a moment, he was afraid she wouldn't recognize him or wouldn't want to be bothered with him, but things seemed to be going nicely so far. He was glad to be in good company, but he noticed her eyes were scanning the room. Her friend, Georgia, could only focus on two things; the door and the famous group hogging the attention at the center of the room. But Catrin was interested in other things, namely the bookseller, seated by the widow, and a young boy at the bar. A young boy at the bar!, Simon thought. Oh dear. The things teachers must put up with these days. No wonder she's so troubled.

“So, Mr Lancaster. How are you this evening?” she asked, returning her attention to him.

"Very well," he said. "But you seem troubled, Ms. Thornton. Is that young man over there a student of yours by any chance? She's an excellent teacher," he said to Georgia. "Even at this late hour, she cares about her students. That is the mark of not only a great teacher, but a great person. And the poor man looks so lost, how could one's heart not go out to him?" He sat back in his seat, suddenly silent, melancholy. "Reminds me of my younger days. Hmm."

 

It had taken the waiter much longer than it should have to bring him his food. He had ordered a simple meat pie with a biscuit and some green tea. Simple but good. He was rather glad none of the other customers had decided to bother him yet. Exspecially that loud one who had cleared a hole shouting that others should make way for the most beautiful girls in the world, and from their looks it might not have been an exaggeration.

Still,Sam never did fancy himself smooth and told himself that someone much plainer was destined for him. He unconsciously wiped at the grease smudge on his cheak as he noticed how nice the group was dressed, and went back to enjoying his meat pie.

 

Myra flitted through the darkened streets. Watching smoke rise from the small smoke stacks. Her heavy skirts barely rustled as she carefully chose her steps. The amber light of the street lamps touched her face and she moved back into the shadows, lurking.

From the shadows she watched the tinkers tavern, lit with dull candlelight that throbbed with the breeze each time it brushed by them. People were laughing, Myra could hear glass tinkling. The smell of ale was strong even from her shadowed hiding place across the street.

She had been here many times with her father before he had left her. She had watched the drunks stagger and the girls laugh. Fanning themselves and hiking their skirts for approval of the gentlemen present.

She slipped in and stalked the shadows of the Tavern. Her eyes on each lady and gent seeking a target worth stealing from. She slide through the crowd towards the counter of the bar and with a grubby gloved hand held out her coin asking simply for tea. A pickpocket could not steal with a mind swirling from the drink.

“Here waif,” the man at the bar said passing her change. He eyed her a mixture of disgust and fascination.

“Thankyou sir,” Myra replied her tone sickly sweet. She moved took a seat close to the bar so she could retrieve her tea when it was ready. Her eyes went back to scanning the room for the wealthy.

 

Miser walked over to the bartender he stared at him and the man stared at him back.
"May I have some tea, sir," he said calmly and kindly, "And as many peanuts as you have."
The man stared at him.
"Coming up," the man said.
"Thank you, sir," Miser sat at the stool he was closes to, which happen to be the one he was standing over.

 

The voice of a girl ordering tea caught Chaos's attention. So there are others who chose not to pollute their minds, thought Chaos. Hmm, she's eyeing everyone... Likely a theif or a prostitute looking for a client.

Taking his glass of iced tea, Chaos walked over to the rather attractive woman and asked, "Is this seat taken?"

 

After looking around the room, Jens thought he recognized one or two people besides those that worked here. He decided to take a seat at a table near the wall, putting his back to the wall. He always liked his back to be against a wall. He had eaten light at home so that he could eat here too and had ordered some vegetables, potatoes, and peppermint tea. He sat quietly eating at the table while watching those that entered.

He recognized Rose Daughney and her companions from performances he'd seen with his wife. He saw Alec come running in and hoped nothing was the matter. He frequented his shop often and knew it was not far from here. He recognized Simon Lancaster too as he often bought clocks from him. A smile crossed his face as he saw the person he gave the money too come in. Good, the man took his advice to improve the end of his day.

He fingered the insignia on the straight collar of his blue shirt. He noticed the boy, twelve or thirteen by the looks of him, that had gone to the counter asked something and then look flustered and upset. What would he be doing here in the tavern? He also saw one fellow dressed in racing gear. Was he here from the race a week ago or was he early for the race that would be held in a few weeks?

 

"Is this seat taken?" a man asked standing in front of her. She stared at him and frowned. She didn’t want company. Perhaps he had a few items worth pinching.

“Depends on what you want…” she said. She thanked the bar tender that brought her tea over and let her gaze settle upon the man. Surely a pretty face like his had lots of trinkets worth the taking.

 

"Just simple conversation, milady. Just consider me to be a bored and curious tourist." said Chaos as he sat down next to her. "My name is Chaos by the way," turning to look into her large hazel eyes, "And may I inquire as to what your name is?"

 

"Just simple conversation, milady. Just consider me to be a bored and curious tourist. My name is Chaos by the way," turning to look into her large hazel eyes, "And may I inquire as to what your name is?" Chaos said sitting next to her.

She gave Chaos a teasing grin, “I shan‘t tell you.” she said the words in a sing song lit. her eyes twinkling. For all his kindness, Chaos did not realise her wariness. It was well hidden with her teasing manner. A thief could trust none, not even herself.

 

"Well then, perhaps I should simple call you Angel then... or perhaps Demoness, whichever fits you more," spoke Chaos as he sipped he glass of tea. He made it a point to stick his hand in his pocket and fiddle with one of that balding man's coins. I wonder if that will get your attention, wondered Chaos to himself.

 

Tommy had kept his head down a while, making the beginning of his first tavern experience audio only. He heard others come into the Tinker's after him, the majority of them ordering tea.

"A very sophisticated crowd you're in, Tommy..." he thought to himself.

He caught a pair of young thugs he was acquainted with, one threatening a man with throat slitting gestures. Tommy left his stool to talk to the young men. He shared a laugh with them as they questioned how he made it into the tavern. He asked them their quarrel with the man they threatened. They had nothing against him, they were simply fooling about. He took the notebook back in exchange of some of his coin and wished them a good evening.

Tommy tossed the notebook onto the bar in front of the man. It seemed the man was engaged in a conversation with another man.

"Mister, you better thank your lucky stars. You gents enjoy your evening."

Tommy heard that actresses had graced the tavern, he looked at them as he made his way back to his stool. There he saw them, goddesses. Rose Daughey and Carmine, two of the most stunning women on the planet. He took his shot of Wild Turkey and ordered another.

His eyes shifted from the actresses, to the bartender, to this other woman. She was very unladylike, her back perched on the bar as she peered into the sea of nightlife. She was attractive in her own right, but that hawk's eye really seized his attention.

He looked in the same direction as her, hoping to satisfy his curiosity. Since she had his attention, he was interested in what demanded hers. All he saw was a pile of aristocrats, and the lovely actresses with their dates for the evening. Couldn't be.

"Nah," he said to himself.

He turned back to the bar and took his second shot. He grinned to himself, because he was just allowed to come in and drink liquor with no trouble. If he were to frequent the tavern, perhaps his face would be subsequently recognized. A scary thought in his line of business. He needed the anonymity.

As he looked at the lady again, she was speaking a classy looking fellow.

"It's only right."

 

"Well then, perhaps I should simple call you Angel then... or perhaps Demoness, whichever fits you more," Chaos said.

Myra’s smile was replaced with a suspicious glare. The man had his hands in his pockets notably toying with her jingling coins and watching her. He had a sharp mind to guess her so readily as a thief.

“How about harpy or waif, perhaps trouble maker or scum?” she watched him as she rose from her chair. Her eyes locked onto him. “I do hope you‘re not teasing me. I don‘t like to be teased.” She sulked moving away from the table. She felt nervous now her palms sweaty, would he watch her whilst she was in the tavern. She would lose out on profit for the night thanks to this man. She turned her head to keep an eye on the man. Her other hand snaked out and slipped a mans pocket watch from his waist coat. her movements casual and fluid it looked as though she’d merely reached out to brush lint from her clothes.

 

Danny ran to escape, intimidated by these strange people. As he ran, a thug knocked him to the floor, landing him right in front of Myra. (Sorry its so short)

 

Chaos smiled as he watched her movements out of the corner of his eye. After she 'brushed some lint' he turned towards her. "Please return, it wasn't my intention to offend you, I was merely testing my hypothosis is all. Have a drink and a meal, on me," he patted the stool next to his. Well actually it'll be on that man, but oh well. I'm sure he has more important things on his mind at the moment, thought Chaos.