A Live Performance

[The State Of Maine]

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Stop staring, Rosa."

"I'm not staring at anyone!"

"You are staring at that gentleman in the corner. Looks clean, well-trimmed, a blonde, didn't know you liked those, a distinct look of boredom with a hint of curiosity, half done with his pint even though he ordered it a minute ago, getting some attention from the lady two tables away, although he's deliberately avoiding her, and now looking back at us. For the last time. Stop. Staring."

"Dammit, Nine. I was just looking."

"It looked stupid. You were making us look stupid."

"Whatever. We've got work to do."

----

One of the drawbacks of being accompanied by a demonic spirit: complete and utter lack of privacy in any way, shape or form. Being watched was the least of her concerns; it's something you get used to on stage. Interference, however, is entirely different.

Rosa had been to Underwood before. Many years ago, when she was younger and still exploring the world, this had been a frequent stop. She would often be allowed to perform, although her appearances were too few and far between to make a lasting impression. Fame was, however, not one of her desires; entrancing and captivating the audience for just one night was good enough.

This night was one of those nights. The crowd was different from what she remembered, and how could it not be? The years change a city, and the people in it. The regular customers grew old, their offspring taking their place as the bar's lifeblood. Soldiers and adventurers and travelers and thieves and more of their ilk were ever-changing on their own. Naturally they would bring new spirits to a simple tavern. Places evolve, and its inhabitants along with them.

To Rosa, it was of little importance. As stated before, the most appealing part of making music was capturing the hearts of those who listened, and a new audience consisted of fresh hearts ripe for harvest. Figuratively speaking, of course. Although the night was young, Rosa and Nine's work was already half-done. She'd been performing since a little after dusk, and her audience loved every second of it. And now, after a quick round of refreshments, she would move onto Act Two and fulfill the rest of their desires.

The chatter dwindled to mere whispers as Rosa took her position on a stool beside the bar. She looked to the crowd once through dim light and smoky air. She had their attention, and she would make it worth their time (and hopefully their money). Gently caressing her guitar's neck, she laid her fingers on the strings, yet did not commence. Technically, cooperation from Nine wasn't required, but she preferred to have his consent before starting. Like many times before, he weaved his permission into the tapestry of her thoughts, and finally the tavern was filled with her delightful sound.


May or may not have been obvious, but feel free to join in.

[The State Of Maine]

Rain fell from a dark and clouded sky into a mostly dormant town. It trickled from the shingled rooftops onto the streets and into the sewers, where it would start its journey into the skies once again.

That same rain trickled down the tavern’s windows, creating a soothing background to the voices and sounds home to a bar such as this. Cheerful laughter, chairs sliding over hardwood floors, gold pieces being slammed on counters and softly whispered avances.

Rosa watched the man seated next to her as he told her of… something. She wasn’t really following. For some reason, the man had taken an interest in her, and he was obviously trying - and failing - to charm her. Probably because of her music. Oh, they always fell for the music. Sadly, this guy’s interest was not mutual. Over the course of the years, Rosa’d met many men like him, occasionally spending the night with one. Without knowing it, this particular specimen was one fish among many in an endless ocean. Still, she did not have the heart to turn him down right away, so she pretended to listen while she finished her drink.

Throwing back the last of the amber liquid, Rosa set her glass on the counter and looked back at the man, who was just about finishing his story.
“… so we’ll be leaving for Radasanth tomorrow, unload some merchandise there, and head back to Scara Brae,” he said, looking at Rosa as if expecting some sort of feedback. She just barely got the clue, and muttered a quick reply.
“I see, I see. Well, in that case, you should get a good night’s rest, yes? I think I’ll be heading off too.”
“Finally.”
Lifting herself off the barstool and on her feet, she tried to head for the door. For a moment, the patron didn’t exactly understand this sudden turn of events. He turned as his gaze remained fixed on the cloaked musician.
“What, you’re just gonna leave?”

Ah, there it was. That pressing weight on her shoulders, the knowledge that she was the source of the disappointment in his voice. Letting another person down would never become easy, and it would never become less of a necessity. There was no benefit in staying with this merchant, for the night or just for another hour. Gotta put myself in front, she thought, a statement which Nine was quick to agree with. The memory of the man’s disenchanted voice would fade soon enough, as long as she left right away.

“Hey! Hey, you can’t just go!”

The man whose name she never bothered to remember suddenly called out to her, as if she were his possession. Even with her back turned, it wasn’t hard to imagine the look on his face as surprise turned to mild anger. Rosa spun around to face him, just several feet from the tavern’s door. Her intention was to tell him that yes, she could just go, yet the sight of the merchant on standing tall with a look none too friendly surprised her a bit more than it should have. He took a step in her direction, the threat in this action nearly reverberating through the wooden floor and the musty air. Slowly, the crowd in the tavern ceased to be individuals as they turned their focus to the duo in the center, one by one.
“Oh mercy, he’s one of those,” Nine whispered. Indeed, the situation seemed to indicate that the man, who continued to grow more and more annoyed, was of the possessive kind. He took another step.

“I bought you a drink! You’re not just leaving!” The distance between the merchant and the musician was quickly closing. In a slightly belated reaction, Rosa responded by straightening her shoulders and looking the man square in the eye, which wasn‘t an easy task considering he was about a head taller than her.
“I appreciated the drink, thank you. We’re both busy people, though, and I have no interest in staying here any longer. Good night, sir,” she proclaimed, spinning on her heels again and heading for the door.

As her hand reached for the knob, she felt a mild pain in her shoulder as she was forcibly turned back around by a strong hand. Once again, Rosa found herself looking the persistent patron in the eye, and this time she took special note of his facial expression. Failing to seduce the same woman twice in a row hurt his ego more than anything else. His favored way of dealing with that was apparently through anger. He opened his mouth once again, and this time his voice was louder.
“I said, you’re not going anywhere!”
Instinctively, Rosa had already placed a hand on the dagger hanging from her belt. Although Nine implored her to put it to good use, she would prefer not to injure her possible assailant. It might simplify this particular situation, but it would cause certain trouble in the future. Which didn’t mean she would take this treatment just like that.
“You have one chance”, she spat at him through clenched teeth, “to take your hand off me, or I will make you.” The message was as clear as the retribution that would follow.

[Chroma the lost]

Heads up, all bunnying between these following three accounts has been approved.
Chroma the Lost
Dark silence
Musica the Chao
Three figures noticed the scene happening by the door, and three reactions followed. A young man with dark black hair and chocolate brown eyes stared at the two, and smiled slyly. This woman was his type. He quickly rose to his feet, brushing his hair from his face, revealing his brown eyes to the world. His nocturnally pale skin almost glowed in the light of the bar, giving him a slightly foreboding feel. His partner to his left however was a different story.

This man was slightly muscular, lightly tanned, and had long blond locks that hung over his eyes which were neon green for the day. He simply looked at his companion in confusion. "Dark, what are you doing?" he asked in a slightly monotone voice. Dark, the man standing, turned to his friend. "Father said I have to do a good deed as often as possible, and that woman looks like she needs help." he said smiling.

The two were good friends, an odd pair if one knew what they really were. Dark was an ex convict, who had been raised on the streets. One day he had been careless, and had gotten caught. When things seemed their bleakest Dark's father, a wealthy priest stepped in. He had released Dark with his companion, Chroma, on one condition. Dark had to do good things to offset the bad.

Chroma's story is a slightly more, interesting story. Chroma's full name is mode E10 Chroma, a liquid form robot who resembled a human and could feel emotions. Chroma had been left behind when his people had left Althanas eons ago. A freak storm awoke him from hibernation, and he found himself with no mental files. Without a purpose he wandered into Underwood and met with Dark and his father, and then took the job as a babysitter.

"Excuse me Sir, I believe it would be best that you let that woman go." Dark said smiling. Across the room a third figure shrunk down into his seat. This of course, was the mighty Musica, self declared comedy genius. He was an odd creature, somewhat impish in form, while his body jiggled like pudding. He was no more than two feet tall, and slightly chubby. To most he would be considered a pet of sorts, he simply ignored them and did his job.

He had a yellow dot that floated above his tear shaped head about the size of a ping-pong ball. This he occasionally like to bat around, but now it quivered with fear. He was scared, and desperately needed work as a comedy relief character.

[The State Of Maine]

The tension between the musician and her would-be attacker was nearly palpable. Even when faced with a direct threat, the man would not back down. The same applied to Rosa. She might not want to permanently injure him, but a good lesson seemed to be in order. Thankfully, the situation was soon defused by a third party, in the shape of a young man. He carried a smile on his face, but his physique and posture told stories of their own. One thing was certain, however; the kid had guts. Intervening in a situation like this required quite a bit of courage, the like of which no other in the bar had displayed yet.

The fellow’s words were simple enough, and polite at that. It proved enough to divert the man’s attention, as he turned towards him, finally letting go of Rosa. He gazed at him for a few moments, and when he responded, it was without the politeness the youth had approached with.
“Look here, son, this ain’t none of your business”, the man grunted, waving a finger in front of the youngster’s face. “You just get back to your seat and leave the grown-ups alone, y‘hear?” The angriness in his voice had made place for a mocking tone. This child couldn’t cause much trouble if he tried.

As soon as the merchant had released her, Rosa’d moved back towards the door, although she still faced those in front of her. Slowly, she tried to find the doorknob by touch, while keeping one hand firmly placed on her dagger, in case things got ugly. The kid’s interference had come as a minor blessing, as it took the weight of the situation out of her hands. He had her gratitude for this, but it would be a wasted effort if she didn’t finish the job. And by finishing the job, she meant removing herself from the equation as quickly as possible, so Don Juan over there wouldn’t have a reason to proceed with his course of action.
“Which might all be very nice,” Nine interjected, “but I don’t think the relations between those two are going to improve.”

The demon had a point, yet Rosa had a different view on things. “It’s not our problem once we’re out of here.” She hated thinking like that, but it was true. There was only one option for the situation as it was, and that option was escalation. In other words, it was all going to go downhill. Her fingers closed around the doorknob. It would be in her best interest to remove herself from the premises before all hell broke loose.

Thanks anyway, kiddo. Appreciate the effort.

[Move Along Move Along]

Law sat back and watched the scene unfold before his eyes. It seemed as though the woman who had been playing the beautiful music for a couple of hours tonight was under some trouble. The man took a sip of his Underwood Bomb (A fine concoction of Red Steer Energy Drink mixed in with Undermeister) while the situation played out. Naturally, somebody stepped in to help the woman in distress, though Law himself caught the musician's hand heading towards her side during her aggressor’s threats.

You know what you could do right now, Lawrence? The voice of the evil God Egr’msatchek spoke in the back of the man's mind. You should go over there and get yourself involved. See how many people you can get into a massive fist fight over one woman.

"Heck nah, Brah," Law replied. The free spirit had spent his entire life ignoring the things Egr’msatchek had told him to do. It made it easier for him when he called the evil being 'Brah' as well, finding that it personalized and degraded the voice at the same time. "One, she's already leaving," Law pointed towards the door, not having any feelings towards those who were now starting to stare at a man talking to himself at the bar.

He took another sip of his drink before he continued. It was thick, as to be expected when the bartender added too much Undermeister. Law had considered getting a job here in Underwood, having intricate knowledge on how to mix drinks just right. The prospects of employment quickly fluttered out of the man's mind, however, noting how the starlet before his eyes was faring with a job in the dive. If situations didn't end well for her, what hope was there of someone like him making it through a night with a bunch of drunkards? One of his primary weaknesses was he did not know how to say 'No'.

"Two, you know I'm not that good of a fighter. Never needed to train for that stuff, Brah. No point to it if you don't go looking for trouble."

Is there anything you are good at?

"I'm pretty good at drinking beer."

Law heard what could only be described as a sigh escaping from the voice in his head. Taking another drink, Law used his free hand to reach into his left jean pocket, sifting through the loose change and knick knacks to find what he needed. When he found the key to stopping the situation from lowing up, he removed it from his person, bouncing it upon the table until nearly all eyes were on him.

When he was confident enough that he had gotten everyone's attention, he grabbed the orange ping pong ball in mid-air. Looking over to the heated area, he finally regarded people with a physical form. "How bout yall settle that with a game of beer pong? Less blood for yall, more laughs for us."

Any situation could be diffused with a simple matter of enough alcohol. All those guys at those AAA (Althanas Alcoholics Anonymous) meetings were fooling themselves into thinking otherwise.

[Chroma the lost]

Dark watched the woman shrink away once the man had released her. Dark scowled at the man who was now addressing him. Dark was not amused in the way he was being treated. In the corner of his eye he saw his companion straiten up. He smirked and twisted his hands palm up, as if he was surrendering. He then quickly twisted his left wrist, allowing the dagger stashed up his sleeve to slide out. With a quick flick of the wrist he let the dagger fly, missing the man on purpose.

He could feel the tension now, and he knew that there was no coming back. He addressed the man with the ball with a quick comment. "It looks like hes drunk, and I plan to stay sober, sorry." It seemed like the situation had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and bar fight was eminent.

The young chao Musica continued to quiver across the room. It seemed like a fight was brewing, and there was perhaps one thing to do. He reached back behind him, and imagined reaching into a chubby into nothingness. He then pulled a cream pie out of what appeared nowhere. He quickly hopped onto a table and squealed in a high pitched fashion, tossing the pie as hard as he could at the merchant.

Chroma, Dark, and many other bar patrons watched with a look that would be classified between amusement and horror as the pie flew in what seemed like slow motion.