Lucky Cat meet-up

===> COH <===> 2/5/2020, 6:46:07 PM <===

Lucky Cat Roadhouse - Bar(#14304RM)

	The Lucky Cat Roadhouse - a small intimate honkytonk type of a dive bar joint!

	The lighting in the roadhouse is low and dim, and the the air is kept perpetually cool. There's a jukebox in one corner of the long rectangular room. A small parquet dance floor anchors the center of the space. Towards the back, opposite the entrance, is a long bar. Behind the bar are bottles of cheap booze, along with a tap for a few select local craft brews. Off to the side of the bar opposite the jukebox is a small raised wooden stage for live music performances. Over on the other end of the bar opposite the stage are a few billiards tables, and storage for the cue sticks and balls.

	 A door behind the bar leads to a small kitchen that prepares snacks and basic bar food meals to accompany the drinks. Another door behind the bar is marked "PRIVATE" that when opened reveals a set of stairs leading up.

	*** PLACES ENABLED ***
Contents:
Kaati

	*** Nightzone ***

Obvious Exits:
  Loft <Lo>   Out <O>

	Mo makes his way out into the roadhouse via the door marked "PRIVATE", looking a little bleary eyed and tousled. A yawn is stifled, eyes are rubbed at, and then he grabs a bottle of beer from a cooler behind the bar. Greetings are exchanged with the bartender and then Mo is mo-seying (get it? mo-seying?) around the bar to find a stool to sit on and enjoy his liquid breakfast. Or lunch. Dinner. What have you.

It's the prickle of magick that brings him down to investigate: a subtle but powerful current of emotional energy, sending hope thrumming through the building as if the entire structure is a plucked string. Vibrating with a positive sound, something that speaks of change and love.

	An eyebrow will arch as Mo knocks back a deep swallow of some local craftstyle brew. Business was never booming, but there was a regular clientele mainly composed of the permanent and seasonal workers of the hamlet. New entertainment was a special draw, and the Cat made sure to try and find ways to keep things interesting. Mo hops off his barstool, and makes his way closer to the stage to get a better sense of things, bringing his beer with him. This? This was /interesting/.

	"...Down from the water she casts a spell,
	down to the water she goes."

	Kaati Isn't alone on the small stage; a couple of partners occupy chairs alongside her, one with percussion instruments, another with a hurdy-gurdy and a fiddle close by. The Dreamspeaker's voice is clear and pure, her hands sure on the guitar, but it's her soul--her energy, for lack of a better word--that makes her an exceptional performer. She pours her heart into the songs, colors them with meaning... and infuses them with that subtle push. People will leave this place uplifted, after hearing her. Their souls a shade lighter, their hearts more hopeful.

	"Awake in the day with the morning light
	She touches your shadow with fire
	and in the shade of her open hands
	She harbors your burning desire."

	The hurdy-gurdy comes in along with subtle percussion, for the chorus; voice lifting to a higher register suddenly and then falling, turning, falling again into the alto range.

	"And the more that you love her, the more that She grows,
	The more you run from Her, the more that She knows,
	The more She knows..."

	Mo was a /fan/ of the hurdy-gurdy. He had one upstairs, in fact! The man couldn't recall the last time one played up on the stage, though so this was an extra-special treat! His body would begin to slowly sway with the music even as he finished off the last of the beer in his bottle. A free hand comes up to wipe at his eyes. It was good for the locals' spiris to receive a little uplift, especially in the dead of winter.

	The hurdy-gurdy plays alone through the melody of a verse, and then Kaati sings the next. Her eyes are dreamy, focused somewhere beyond the now--inhabiting the world of the song.

	"I can see by your eyes you're a wise old man,
	I can tell by the way that they burn.
	Your beard has been growing six thousand years
	while you've waited for her to return..."

	On the last chorus, the percussionist sings with her, an octave down. The last repeat of the chorus is underlaid with only subtle chords and Kaati's soft voice, ending way down low in her range... and then everything fades and she silence the strings. Without time for applause, they launch into something both mystical and upbeat, something about finding the soul in nature, going back to the trees, dancing beneath moonlight.

	Mo smiles, foot tapping in time to the peppy upbeat shift in mood. Man, he was gonna have to thank the roadhouse's manager for this particular booking. It had been a while since these walls contained such multitudes of emotion within them. And what was good for the roadhouse, was good for the locals, and vice versa. He'll wait for a break in the performance before making his way towards the stage to offer his thanks and appreciation. "Hey, that was really nifty. Brews and snacks on me for all of you." He focuses his attention on Kaati. "We don't get many talents like yours up this way. Maybe once in a blue moon. Thank you for making the trek."

	Kaati spots him as he's coming up, and for a moment her gaze catches as she recognizes him. Behind her, the buddies are packing up. She's already put away her guitar; Mo might have noticed the silent moment she took, touching the instrument and murmuring something. Thanks, a prayer maybe, a benediction.

	The woman offers him a small smile, one corner of her mouth ticking upward. "We're getting paid, but I don't mind a drink."

	The hurdy-gurdy guy trades looks with the drummer and says, apologetically, "Can't, dude, but thanks." A look to Kaati. "So, see you tomorrow, yah?"

	Mo nods to folks, "As you wish, but everything can be taken to go too if you wanted to sample the local craftbrews later. The grub's not fancy, but it's all local." Then he looks to Kaati and nods, motioning to a table. "C'mon, you can get a flight to sample, or just choose your favorite style."

	The band folks trade brief goodbyes with Kaati and politely demur--and then Kaati slings on the ever-present messenger bag and picks up the guitar. "It's, ah. Mo, right?"

	Mo gives an enthusiastic nod in the affirmative. "For short, and mundy-friendly, yeah." He'll catch the bartender's attention and motion to himself and Kaati before leading her to a table and kicking out a chair, then dropping down into one beside her. "You were pretty awesome, by the by. Just the tonic we needed."

	"Thanks," she murmurs, finding a place to lean the guitar, setting the bag on an empty chair. Then she tips her head, birdlike. "We?"

	He'll gesture to the space around them. "Yeah, the Lucky Cat. It's been a minute since we last had that kinda vibe and energy here. You and your band really lit us up tonight. I could feel the vibe from upstairs. Mr. Fu too, and I'll tell you, he is one particular fellow."

	Awkwardness crosses her face, then. "You live here? I didn't know it was-- I'm glad I didn't, like, offend anyone." She flushes a little, then. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

	Mo nods, jerking a thumb upwards. "Yeah, up above. Mr. Fu likes the air up here, and there are these berries, local to here, that he just /has/ to have when they're in season. So this is, ah, where we hang our hats." He leans in conspiratorially, and lowers his voice a little. "Also? Its off the beaten path, so. A little easier to defend and such."

	Tipping her head, Kaati asks, "Currants? Blackberries?"

	Mo mmms thoughtfully. Botany wasn't his bag, but. "Alpine strawberries I think they call'em. Whatever they are, Mr. Fu is a big fan."

	"They're tiny, and a pain to harvest in any quantity beyond personal consumption, really, but. Man, they're tasty things." Mo grins. "He likes the cut of your jib. y'know. Says you give off a certain aetheric vibe." A pause as Mo considers. "You gotta guide too?"

	"Oh, yeah. Tiny but they are *so* good." Kaati smiles, and it's practically shocking, the way it lights up her face and sparks in the dark eyes. She seems the slightest bit high, blissed-out perhaps. The way the three performers stood together, in a small circle, after the applause... the whole thing was probably a ritual, the three of them working that energy together somehow. So she's likely still in the afterglow of that working, riding the high. Still, it's nice, the way her eyes hold a warmth. He certainly didn't see that... before, in the hard-edged warrior.

	Mo looks up as a flight of beers is brought over, before the bartender asks Kaati if she'd like anything in particular or special conjured up for her. "Music is really your jam, huh? I never really learned any instruments. Orson used to try and teach me the pipa, but. I dunno, I was lacking in patience and such back then. At least for the finer arts."
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	"Just water, thanks," Kaati says, but she offers the barman a smile to charm him. She turns her attention to Mo when he speaks, and her brows lift. "Pipa, huh? Cool."

	Mo looks a little sad and wistful at a memory, then gives a nod. "I still have the one that he gave me. Upstairs with my other mementos, yeah. I should probably take another stab at the thing." A pause. "WHen he played that thing, it was really the only time I ever saw Fatima smile. I mean, in her eyes, y'know? Cause her /smile/ smile was a whole 'nother thing entirely." A shudder wracks its way across his broad shoulders. "But when her eyes lit up when Orson played the pipa. That was something to see."

	"Music... does good things. Mostly." Her voice is quiet, her smile a touch smaller now. She scans the room, exits, entrances, people moving about.

	Mo nods. "The Captain? He had this instrument that you played by NOT touching it. But, ah. It wasn't much to anyone's particular tastes." A smile, "Except for me, I mean, but Ijust, I mean, the whole notion. There was something about it that helped me with my focus for other stuff too." He slides a glass of water over towards Kaati. "You have a favorite instrument?"

	She lets out the sort of swift breath that's almost a laugh, self-conscious. "Like, to listen to? It'd have to be either cello, or maybe that weird ancient Viking lute thing that Einar Selvik plays... or maybe lute and oud..." She's slightly flushed again, as she takes a drink.

	Mo's eyes track back along the space as he retraces her glances, then looks back to her. "Things alright? Something awry? Mr. Fu is usually pretty good at sensing things comin' 'round the corner at least a few moments before they actually arrive, and I haven't been alerted. But. He's not infallible, as much as he might believe otherwise."

	For a moment she looks perplexed. "I'm good," Kaati answers, taking another drink and lowering her eyes. There's an enormous difference between this odd mix of radiant-performer light with little moments of social gracelessness... and the woman he met in the Umbra. The dissonance between the two is profound, and yet somehow... they're the same person.

	Mo nods. "Ok. My, ah. Joss is a little funky, on account of my dad an' stuff. Sometimes, for folks with the Senses and stuff, it can, ah. I dunno, bend the vibe or whatever." He reaches back and rubs at his neck with his hand lightly before looking back at Kaati again. "I'm glad we serendipitied again," he'll finally muster with a small smile.

	Something in the young man's body language spoke of an affinity for Kaati. An unconscious desire for some sort of connection, in his own clumsy little offbeat way.

The use of words brings back that swift, sunlit smile. Hawk is a child of Sol, after all. "First time I've heard *that* verbified," she says. "I like it." A touch of questioning surfaces after, with a little turn of her head and a lift of one cheek. "Joss? Like... your energy, you mean?"

===> Server closed the connection. <===> 2/5/2020, 8:48:56 PM <===