The First Age

As soon as Zee ordered, Seven nodded emphatically. “I’ll take the same as him,” he said. “High end tastes. Bravo. I haven’t had a scotch in a long time,” he added with a nod of approval. Madame Marie turned her scrutiny upon Zee then, and Seven was enthralled with the inspection afforded his companion. Zee admitted to being here before, and Seven smiled broadly to confirm Madame Marie’s suspicions.

“Oh, most likely. He is the one who recommended your establishment! And his glowing recommendation could not have been more accurate. Although I do not recall you describing the charming madame! Want to keep her all for yourself, I assume?” he said, turning to Zee with a jesting clap on the shoulder.

Upon the promise of a reading, however, Seven could not be dissuaded from his current path. “Madame, I absolutely demand a reading. I will not depart the hospitality of your house until I do,” he said, brows raised devilishly.

The woman looked startled to see him. Xander tried not to roll his eyes which he was sure looked more awkward than the annoyance itself. But Seven seemed more charming than the woman. It was a good thing he wasn't alone tonight. He hadn't met the woman before, at least not more than in passing, he made sure not to draw attention to himself. "Seven's right I've been here before, usually just stay in the front and mind my own business. I can't resist the Beignets -- a taste from home." Xander made sure to push the American accent tonight, Tobias was Dutch. He spoke like a dutch man. Tonight Xander needed to make Z the all-American boy.

Seven demanded a reading -- charmingly of course. Rowan's had stuck a cord. But this woman had no gift or insight into said powers. She was ordinary. Her aura was a mixture of yellow, greens and blues. She was bright an intelligent and a teacher of the trade, but she was just a woman, no images really sprang to mind when Xander looked at her. He smiled softly. "I'd enjoy watching myself." He said about the reading but he didn't want her reading him. Even a bad tarot reading meant you speculated on what the cards truly meant even if they were nothing at all. But they weren't nothing if you believed. They made you think. It was like your horoscope. But then reading auras was said to be the same thing, and Xander knew for a fact that skill was real. He saw it everyday of his life.

Eido's heart sank at the familiar cadence, miring her in both deep yearning and shame. When Kōta spoke to her in their language of birth, she refused to acknowledge it. He rarely did anymore, unless it was to vex in the way of siblings. With a stranger, though, Eido simply weathered it politely, assuming he had intended to try and put her at ease.

The General Manager had no need to apologise, but she accepted it with only a little discomfort. In fact he had implied nothing of the sort, and she did not wish him to bear the dishonour of her own guilt at having spread her claim over an entire table. Refuting would further the awkwardness though, and accepting absolved them both. She inclined her head, and stilled her hands to rest laced in front of her.

“You speak it very well. Thank you for the kindness, but please do not trouble yourself. English is preferable to me.” She did not enquire where or why he had learned, though the compliment was sincere. Rather, she did not wish to think of a life dead and buried and mourned, nor pause over the way her chest for a moment tightened in memory.

“It’s my brother I’m waiting for. There is a resemblance. But I'm sure he is just delayed; time keeping is not among his virtues." Dark hair ghosted her cheeks as her head tilted down. She had a way of avoiding eye contact that most took for demurity, and she never disabused the assumption. Her tone was warm enough, and not flustered, though the words were softly spoken.

After a moment, she added: "I should purchase something else while I wait. That was inconsiderate of me. Do you have any recommendations?"

Maman Marie Mayfaire
Front Counter Attendant

---

“Then a reading you shall have, cutie!” Marie said most seriously. She had read for some of the patrons before, and they had seemed to enjoy the results. Never did say if she was right or not, but that didn’t matter. This was fun and she liked fun. Marie began fishing around in the multiple pockets sewn into her cotton dress. Where had she put them again?

Zee spoke up and she gave him another up and down. Yeah, he did look familiar. Something was off, though. She readjusted her coke bottle glasses, but still couldn’t remember where she had seen him. She had seen him before, though, that much was plain. Must’ve been the café. She didn’t get out much. Russia wasn’t as welcoming and warm as New Orleans had been. The café was the only piece of home she had here. Still. This was an adventure for her. There was nothing left for her back in New Orleans, nothing but gravestones and old houses. She shook her head and the thought vanished.

“Oh, you got a devilish bone in ya’ too, I see!” Marie cackled as she smacked Zee on the shoulder in jest, “Just like watchin’ eh?” She waggled her sparse eyebrows at him. Really, if she’d have known she’d had the opportunity to flirt with such handsome men tonight, why she’d have made sure to draw those eyebrows on. Lord, one never knew what might happen around here. Marie made a little note to herself, ‘start dressin’ proper, you might bag a man yet.’

Galina came wandering up with a tray of drinks for the two young men. Now, how had she known what they had ordered? Marie hadn’t even had the chance to put it in.

(Much to Marie’s oversight, a waiter, by the name of Leonid, sat behind her shoulder taking the orders and delivering them while she prattled on.)

The drinks were dispersed and a plate of beignets to top it off. She nodded to Galina and thanked her before her hand struck a lump in her back pocket. The cards. She gleefully extracted them and held them up to Seven, in a reverent gesture.

“Now, Rowan always told me that you gotta have the patron shuffle the cards for you. Something about energy and the like… So, here. Shuffle them and think of a question you wanna ask. Can’t be yes or no, mind. Gotta be open!”

Gareth Rice
General Manager and Rowan Finnegan's Personal Manservant

---

“Thank you very much,” he spoke in a crisp tone, “I studied Japanese while attending University. Communication is a very precious thing.”

From there, Gareth broke back into his more familiar English, accented with the tones of his father’s Birthplace. He had grown up in New Orleans, and he had shared childhood with Rowan and Aiden, but he had always striven to mimic his Father and Mother in speech. Their way of speaking had always sounded more refined, more polite, than that of the denizens of Ireland or Louisiana. The other children had mocked him for it while growing up, but then again, all children were cruel.

The patron, he had yet to catch her name, had looked down as she spoke – dark curtains obscuring her smooth features. She was a beautiful woman, to be sure, but a shy one. He understood all too well, was he not on the clock, he would likely have found himself snuggled up in a leather easy chair with a pipe and book in hand, deigning to hear the siren song of the social world.

“Do not feel obliged to order something while you wait,” he said suavely, “but if the madam would like to hear tonight’s specials, I will not deny her the opportunity. The chef recommends the BBQ Shrimp, simple in name, but bursting with the homespun flavors of New Orleans. Garlic, butter, Worcestershire, amber beer, and a house blend of seasoning will leave your tongue popping with flavor.”

Gareth took on a conspiratorial look as he spoke, “If you ask me, it’s more money than its worth. If you want my recommendation, why you should indulge in our Muffalettas. House-cured meats, three types of cheeses, olive dressing, and a well-buttered bread. One bite and you’ll be in heaven, and it’s light on the wallet. In the meantime, I shall inform the front desk to keep an eye out for your brother.”

Gareth clapped his hands and a server, a younger man named Dima, appeared at his shoulder.

Perhaps it was the attention parlayed during the day. Perhaps it was the aroma of incense hanging on the air or maybe the scotch in hand wasn’t his first drink of the night, but Seven’s smile at Zee was flirtatious. “You like to watch?” he asked with coy suggestion. It was a poor attempt to rile Zee from his shell. He was clearly uncomfortable, and Seven’s very nature was to coax the hesitant from their sometimes-prickly exteriors.

The scotch warmed his chest pleasantly. The blend had a peculiar effect on Seven completely unlike the flowery gin or zesty vodka. Scotch seeped into the bone, he once heard it described. The sentiment was absolutely correct. The beignets laid before them mounded a succubus of sweetness, but the glint remained only in Seven’s eye. He was hands’ off for now, despite the tantalizing sticky promise of the dessert.

He accepted the cards, and if there was a proper way to shuffle according to ancestral decorum, he did not know it. He worked the deck like he sat at the tables in Monte Carlo. For what a glorious place the city of royals was. Maybe he could find a similar situation in Moscow, if one knew where to inquire. He had a hint that perhaps the most exclusive of card houses in their dear Custody Capital would outshine even the most glamorous of his previous experience.

As it was, he shuffled the deck with a dramatic flair, arching the cards back down in a blurry whoosh. However, before returning them to their diviner, he held the deck to his forehead and closed his saintly pale eyes, fixing in his mind the question he desired most to answer.

Once concluded, he returned the deck to the middle of the table and leaned inward like he may share a whisper. “Madame, I am open,” he said with the promise of being hers.



((Sorry for the delay. Rowan, let me know if you want me to PM you the question.))

Xander laughed and leaned into Seven's ear "I like to participate more." He leaned back with a smirk "In this case I will watch"

Xander watched Seven suffle the cards and opened himself to what he saw. To everything, images, and the aura and took a deep breathe at the colors and flashes of images that could or could not mean more than what he knew. There was a fire faded into the background, a past event. Xander didn't always understand them. The question didn't matter his gift didn't work like that. But sometimes it flaired other things. There really was something to read.

A small smile touched her lips for the conspiratorial nature of his tone, though she did not look up. Her head dipped. “I will take your recommendation. Thank you.”

She would have in fact taken the personal recommendation whatever it had been, but it did not hurt that he added it would be light on the wallet. They did not have masses of money, and Moscow was an expensive city. Kōta had secured them lodgings, and his hustling always trickled them some small income wherever in the world they roamed, but she would need to look for work now. Her lack of a legitimate CID number usually made suitable employment harder to come by. It seemed Kōta was intent that their stay here would be permanent, though Moscow was not the first time he had insisted as such. Eido found no hardship in a rootless existence, which was fortunate, for more likely than not they would be forced to move on sooner or later.

In the few moments while the reading continued, a rumble suddenly quaked in his stomach. The pastries looked divine, but it was the food delivered to another that wafted irresistible scents. Unlike the sticky promises of sweets, this was the aroma of savory feasting. Trays of meats floated by as if delivered to Odin himself. Cheeses and the pungent allure of olives slicked fresh saliva in his mouth. While he realized the order was to be placed upon the table of another, two options presented themselves. Order the identical to share with two or feast with many.

The lady was seemingly unaccompanied. At first glance, she was quite lovely, not that attractiveness was the first thing Seven always noticed about people. 

"Miss, it is a shame to feast alone. We would be honored if you would join our small group." The smile that followed was warm and inviting, pleasant and welcoming. 



((Did a little moding. Hope its okay. It was in an attempt to join our groups and continue the thread.))

Seven had no qualms about inviting the woman to join them. Another one of the special ones. And the snake made Xander's skin crawl. But he smiled anyway -- inviting and engaging. It was easy to fake. And Z well, he was happy. He liked people. He was the one here really. Outside he was yes, join us, but on the inside, it was more like can I go home now. What was this town filled with special people and snakes?

Everywhere he went there they were...

(( don't have much to contribute really ))