The Trance is the Motion (Yuiven)

[Kitty]

Generally she slipped away with the intent of being found a few hours or so later, but tonight she just... wanted to get away for long. Her servants were being particularly ... attentive, especially the old canine butler she had that made it his personal mission to fuss over her as if she were still a child, and she needed out before she screamed. Thanks the stars they were in the Capitol for the week, and she had more places to escape to. Elanzo would be expecting her in the park, not somewhere else ... she could have a night alone and worry about getting back to the hotel later.

She had help, of course, the woman who helped with her hair and wardrobe understood her desire to just be... young and have fun and was quite willing to take her someplace she had a hunch would provide the girl with ample entertainment... or make her stick closer to home... whichever. She'd brought her here in the carriage, took her inside and the two of them had been chatting for awhile... until Murmur discovered the woman's ulterior motive. The pretty little feline was here to meet a man... and she promptly left when he arrived, telling the Torquehelm woman that she'd make the arrangements forh er to be picked up at the park later so nothing looked 'suspicious' and they could do this again sometime.

Oh yes .. .a lot of fun being alone was in a bar... when you couldn't see anything and it was just a little too noisy to hone in on conversations around her. not to mention she looked rather... out of place. Great night indeed ...

[Yuiven]

(GAH HA HA HA! I am so, so sorry Kitty for taking such a long time to reply; this is bad even for me. To make up for it, here's a juicy long post for you.))

Beowulf's taloned foot trod down on the planking, kicking up puffs of dust. His hand on the doorknob, the Josiggy Marsh crow stood framed in the doorway of Furgus' Bar and Pub, doing a sweep of the joint with narrowed turquoise eyes. "Well, looks like we're here," he murmured in confirmation, a smile tugging at the corners of his beak. From behind him, he felt a familiar and welcome presence as someone approached and stood slightly to the right of him. Already intoxicated, even though he hadn't had a drop to drink, Beowulf shot a covert glance at Wiglaf. The ghost of the Sorgaire Range Percheron canted a smile at his drinking buddy in acknowledgement.

Closing the door with a click, Beowulf began to make his way through the pub with Wiglaf at his heels. Inside it was obviously packed with Cards– mostly older adults, but a scant few teens appeared here and there. None of the patrons bothered to look at him. They clustered around the tables, chatting and knocking back pints of beer while being waited on by servers.

It felt damn good to be back on his old stomping grounds after so long.

On this particular evening, as the off-duty soldier searched for a seat at the bar, he noticed someone hovering at the edge of his peripheral vision amongst the throngs of people. Without quite knowing why, he stopped and turned to look at this individual. Then he promptly did a double-take. A soft gasp escaped Beowulf's beak as his eyes fell upon a beautiful woman sitting at a table in the corner all by her lonesome. Hel~lo!

Meanwhile, Wiglaf had carried on walking a ways until he suddenly realized that his drinking buddy was no longer with him. As soon as this realization hit, he swung his head in panic from side to side and then looked back over his shoulder, but there was no sign of Beowulf. Alarmed, the equine blew out air from his nose, nostrils flared. Where's Beo?!

He began to retrace his steps, looking frantically around in search for his missing friend. Oh Suits! Where could he have gotten to? he wondered. If Wiglaf was separated from his chosen haunt, he would... Such morbid thoughts were abruptly cut off when he spotted Beowulf standing not three meters from him.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Wiglaf took one step forward, but before he could take another, the expression on the crow's face froze him in place. All the relief he had felt a minute ago drained away in confusion as he stared at Beowulf with a raised eyebrow, wondering What is he looking at? Beowulf stood as if in a trance, arms dangling loosely at his side. Following his gaze, it took Wiglaf a moment to notice who, not what, he was looking at. That's when it all made sense. He regarded that total babe with half-lidded eyes, a knowing smirk curling his lips. Oho...so that's why Beowulf was slack-jawed...! Wiglaf tore his gaze away from the woman, then moseyed right up to where his best friend was, slinging an arm around Beowulf's shoulders. "So this is where you've got to."

Beowulf had been so pre-occupied ogling the woman that he started in surprise when Wiglaf spoke to him. He eyed the meddling spirit sideways. His cheeks reddened beneath light grey feathers as he picked up the innuendo in Wiglaf's statement, but he said nothing in reply. Instead, he crossed his arms and tilted his head to one side, analyzing the female human from across the room. She looked to be about in her early twenties, a Torque, and a three of Spades, but her species was currently unknown.

It begged the question: why would a lady willingly put herself in the midst of such a wild crowd of drunks, smokers, and perverts looking to cop a feel? To his chivalrous nature, that just wasn't right.

There was a brief pause for consideration. ...Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, Beowulf thought, giving a rolling shrug of his shoulders before heading towards the young lady. When he reached the table she was sitting at, he cleared his throat to get her attention. "Excuse me, miss." He laid a hand on the back of an empty chair opposite her. "Is this seat taken?"

[Kitty]

The 'perverts' and the 'cop a feel' factors were largely why she remained at the table. It was safer there, marginally of course, but it left a little more to the imagination of the 'viewers' then her actual outfit did. She wasn't going to be forgetting this little stunt all too soon either. That little feline was going to get a payback for sure.

Someone came up and asked her what she wanted to drink, she assumed it was some form of waiter, or whatever the equivalent was for a place like this. She'd waved the man away, not really wanting anything at the time but, as her nerves started to get to her a bit, began to wonder if that was such a good idea.

And then there was another voice, male once again but with a little more manners. She turned her head in the direction she'd heard his voice come from and waited for him to speak again, her expression remaining neutral. He wanted to sit with her? Well, ask much as it didn't' seem like a good idea a bit of company wouldn't be too bad.

She nodded, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth before she spoke, her voice holding a definite french accent.

Only if you are good at holding up a conversation, yes?