Weary Folk Stop to Sit and Chat

Old Ironsides bar

Grobbler sits down at the bar, furthest he can from the other patrons. He left a note with Edna so that the others would know where to go. His trip to The Four Seasons had surprised him a little, but that wasn't a bad thing. He felt confident that things were looking up.

He fishes into his pocket for his slim wad of spending cash when suddenly he is struck by a thought that hasn't crossed his mind in years. Maybe I should clean up and find a job... He tries to rationalize where the idea comes from. After all, if he finds Sarah he can't let her see him like this. Yea. He'll try to put things together again, but just for her sake.

"Like I'd say no to that! Come on man, saved you a chair."

Grobbler gives him a wry smile.

"So how did apologizing to half the city go?"

"High Life is fine. If you're offering something fancy then Whiskey on the Rocks would be great."

Grobbler swivels his stool as far as it turns to get a sense of the bar's ambiance.

"You know, everywhere I look I keep running into people who just got here, or you know, just got back back. So where you from, man? You been here in Sacramento a long time, or are you new?"

Marilee pulls up outside the bar, abruptly stopping the decrepit old motorbike she'd bought used last week. It comes to a stop with a rumble and a clank, and she rolls her eyes. She's got to fix the stupid thing - it won't do to have the owner of a auto repair shop riding a bike that looks like it'd fall apart at the slightest provocation.

Right. Social interaction. Lee takes a deep breath, steeling her resolve, and walks into the bar. There are two changeling guys already sitting up at the bar, conversing. She settles herself onto a bar stool, orders a beer from the bartender, and stretches out with an audible clank that makes her wince.

"Still getting used to that," she mutters to herself.

Shit. Nothing to be done about it now, Marilee thinks. Besides, the guys know why she's clanking, or they can guess.

"Hi! Sorry, it, uh, does that," she says, gesturing at the offending knee joint. "I'm Marilee - you can call me Lee. I'm new here, I guess." She stands up to extend a hand to the guy who turned around, and waves at the fellow he'd been talking to. Nothing, mercifully, clanks.

"I'm still getting used to it - the clanking, that is. It's not out of place around the shop, at least."

Marilee checks her pocketwatch, and sighs. "Speaking of the shop, I should be getting back there. The old bike needs some more work, and I think I've got an appointment coming up. I'll see you guys around, I hope!"

((OOC: Class time sneaks up on a person, my apologies! Hopefully we'll meet up again soon!))

Grobbler always hates meeting new Changelings away from the safe zones, there's no way to vouch for them.

He hopes she's one of Pryderi's friends.

"Lee? Don't think I've seen you around," Grobbler shakes her hand lightly. His head crooks just a bit and he distrustfully tries to get a bead on her intentions, huge yellow eyes unblinking. "Mr Pretty, this a friend of yours?"

Aaaand she's gone.

"Wow, OK."

"That's an Elemental for you, hehe. Think you were talking about the band you toured with. Were you big time? I wouldn't have thought no one'd notice if you vanished on tour. Is... he still playing."

"Six months...? Six months?" Grobbler tries desperately to stop from cracking up. "Who was your Keeper, Teddy Ruxpin? Huh-huh-ha."

He shakes his head and slurps down a huge gulp of the Devil's piss.

"No, man I'm sorry. That was fucked up of me. Didn't mean that, you're just lucky. Most of us don't get away so quick..."

"Share? There's not much to it. Blah blah, got kidnapped, life ruined, purple monster, and now I hang out with fairies."

The bartender catches only the last part of the conversation while pouring drinks and gives them the stink eye.

"Yea, you wish buddy." Grobbler waves him off and rolls his eyes before picking back up.

"Anyway, there were only six of us when we were at in Montana. Didn't even have any Summer. And that lasted maybe a year... max, before one of us got taken back. Of course, we fell apart after that... and I ended up coming here looking for family. From before, I mean."

Grobbler nods thoughtfully, talking now more to himself to his company.

"I thought that was the fucking plan." He slams the second drink.

"Whew! Goddamn it burns so good."

"So what the hell is up with the Freehold? I get this weird feeling from dealing with those guys, like there's a whole bunch of shit that they've got going on they aren't letting on to. Strange as hell."

"Maybe we need to slow down, just in case the others are coming. It's still crazy early."

"Spring on a whim? That's no good. Back in Montana, me and Bobby Smouldre were the mother fucking baddest boogeymen in the state! Didn't matter if it was hob, or gob, or punk kid," Grobbler hushes and grins menacingly. "We scared them shitless."

"Cities are different man, there's no spooking people. Everybody's packing heat, and the Blues are everywhere."

"Yea... been feeling like I've been hitting a lot of dead ends lately, so... I guess I can see where you're coming from. But eff that rockstar, you don't have to hide the rest of your damn life. Who's that lady, what's her name? The Mother Goose lady... the one with the kids show? Anyway, she sure as shit doesn't hide herself." Grobbler thinks for a long moment.

"I've got something to cheer you up... pull a prank with me." The look in Grobbler's eyes is just devilish. "You want to feel like you're in control of your own life again, you want to feel alive? Let's spook some asshole senseless. What do you say?"

Grobbler hasn't been this talkative in a long time. Maybe as much as he hates to admit it, just being around Pryderi puts him at ease, lets him speak freely, inspires him (admittedly to reckless meanness, but still). Goddamned Spring Muse...

"Make people weep? What, you looking to bore me to death? Alcohol and peer pressure demand that you man up. Hell, if you just play the Jaws riff that'll be helpful enough!"

(( PM me a dex + expression roll please ))

"Ha! Yea man, sounds about right." Grobbler takes account of the time, later than he expected.

"I don't think anybody else is coming... eh, well... whatever. I probably have got to go. It's fuckin' late, and I started before you showed up."

Grobbler rises shakily to his feet.

"Parting advice: you should start up another band. Nothing stopping you, and sounds like something you loved to do."

"Now where the fuck is the door...?"

The two make their way back to wherever it is they pass out for the night.

>End Scene<