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* Michelle unlocks the door and announces, "Hall's Open!" * Michelle returns behind the bar. Tonight she's wearing a white, embroidered blouse and loose pants, her hair flowing loose. * Kevil enters, looks around hopefully, then sighs somewhat and goes to the bar and removes his cloak. "Good evening, Lady Michelle." <Michelle> Good evening Kevil. What can I do for you this evening? <Kevil> Something to drink would be most welcome - I care not what, so long as it is served hot. * Glossaria opens the door and stops on the threshold, staring in consternation at the "no magic" sign on the bar. "Oh, dear. All is not... entirely well yet?" * Kevil looks around at Gloss's entrance and gives her a warm smile. "Good evening, bright angel!" * Michelle smiles and nods, "I'll be back in just a moment." Notices Glossaria's entrance, "Good evening Glossaria. And no, Lord Erdian's touch still seems to be present for all to see. I was about to get Kevil some mulled wine, would you like some?" <Glossaria> Um... "mulled" refers to "heated and spiced," correct? That would be lovely, but... just a moment. ::exiting again and closing the door carefully behind her:: * Michelle quirks an eyebrow and looks questioningly at Kevil. <Kevil> ::shrugs:: Perhaps she has in place some active magic which she feels it would be prudent to extinguish before entering fully. <Glossaria> ::unnatural noises come from the alley, followed by what sounds like someone playing a very fast game of hopscotch:: * Kevil casts a raised eyebrow toward the door, then looks at Michelle plaintively. "My wine?" * Michelle nods, "I'll be back shortly." Disappears into the kitchen. * Glossaria returns, entering with three very large books tucked under her arm, her face slightly pink from exertion. "There, much better. I took the calculated risk that *outside* the demesne of the Hall would be sufficient." * Michelle returns from the kitchen carrying two steaming goblets and setting them on the bar. <Michelle> Anything else either of you would like? <Kevil> One hesitates to ask, sweet angel, where those came from, but I find my curiosity has quite outweighed my common sense... <Kevil> ::curls his hands gratefully around the bowl of his goblet:: Thank you, no, Lady. ::he breathes in the spicy steam for a moment before taking a slow sip.:: <Glossaria> "Those"-- oh, the books? They were in my sleeve, with the others. I didn't wish to risk coming in with active spells, so I deactivated them all and left the rest of my things warded outside. ::glances at the door a little anxiously:: It *is* too cold for rain, I hope. <Glossaria> ::setting the books on the counter as she slides onto a stool, and patting them fondly:: I didn't want to risk leaving these out. <Kevil> ::laughs:: Taken a page from Zoya's book, have you? <Michelle> ::shakes her head:: Maybe we should build a shed or coat room or something in the alleyway. <Kevil> It might be an excellent idea, if the malaise is to continue some time longer... A large number of the patrons are, after all, well-accustomed to bearing on their person any number of magical artifacts... <Glossaria> ::eyes wide:: I would never take a-- ::blinks:: Oh. ::looking a little shamefaced:: You intended that idiomatically... her sleeves? The concept is similar, but I would surmise she uses a different technique. Mine is somewhat limited, in both space and duration. <Kevil> ::half-smiling:: I do not claim to understand even a whit of the magic Zoya uses for that particular amusement. <Alfonse> ::the gangly, War Wizard walks in, narrowly dodging the door frame. His dark hair is looking a little shaggy around the edges, and he's laboring under a large leather pack that strains at its stitching with the outlines of books, and the edges of papers peek around the flap. He sets the pack down on the floor and heaves a sigh of relief:: Would you have some-- no, wait-- I'd like a-- better yet, some water? <Glossaria> ::sighs a little:: I wish *I* knew. I doubt I'm anywhere close to the necessary proficiency to cast it, but a study of the magical theory behind-- oh! ::smiling as she turns to look towards the opening door:: Master Alfonse! A pleasure to see you again, sir. * Kevil blinks at the skinny, awkward mage, then nods politely. "Good evening, sir." * Michelle smiles, "Would you like anything while I'm in the kitchen sir?" <Alfonse> Hm? Um, well, I wouldn't mind something like a-- no, yes. A cheese sandwich? * Glossaria takes a sip of her mulled wine, eyeing the bulging pack almost avariciously. She shifts a little in her seat, leaning her elbow on her "small" pile of books in such a way as to cover the spines with the sleeve of her robe. <Michelle> I'll be right back then. ::Michelle disappears into the kitchen:: <Glossaria> How do you fare, Master Alfonse? ::glancing around the Hall:: This isn't an official visit, is it? * Michelle returns from the kitchen with a tray carrying a fresh loaf of bread, crocks of butter and honey, a large block of cheese, and a mug. She sets the tray on the bar and the mug waddles over to an empty stool near Alfonse. In the mean time a pair of knives on the tray have teamed up to slice the loaf of bread and the block of cheese. <Michelle> Here you are Master Alfonse. <Alfonse> Official? What? No, I just stopped in while I was bringing some home work. Er, some work home. ::he makes several tentative twitches toward reaching for the sandwich and finally works up the nerve and snatches the food off the tray:: So, no, nothing official. I think, at least. <Glossaria> ::relaxing a little:: Well enough. ::glancing at the satchel again:: If... if I may pry... what *are* you working on? * Alfonse starts absently labeling fingers, "Um, alternate components for Magic Missile, the effects of the uh, age of bat guano used in the common fireball spell, how cold a Chill Touch actually is or if it simply *seems* to be cold, modifications to the targeting and rebound effects of a Lightning Bolt, and... well, some personal research that really I'm just doing on my own time. Hence the personal part. <Glossaria> ::eyes widening as she listens:: Fascinating! Do you... that is, will you be publishing, when you've finished? * Alfonse plays with the rung of the stool with a toe while studying the bartop. "We're not really, you know. Allowed. Because of... the job. Thing. Sorry." <Kevil> ::eyebrows raised:: That is quite a collection of studies to handle at once, Master Mage. How do you keep them all separate? I should fear accidently attempting to learn the temperature of a lightning bolt, and ending up quite the worse for wear. <Alfonse> Oh, I learn. Mostly. Everyone once in a while. But mistakes happen, they say. And it's not like anyone was *permanently* hurt. Badly. Except for Ellorik, but he's gotten used to, well, things. <Glossaria> ::looking crestfallen:: Oh... ah, well. How disappointing that must be for you... although, of course, the research itself is its own reward. ::cocking her head:: Hmm... temperature of a lightning bolt... ::a gleam showing in her eye as she pulls her notebook from her pocket and a pencil from the nest of her hair to start scribbling:: <Kevil> ::gives Gloss a fondly tolerant look before turning back to Alfonse:: Ellorik? Dare I inquire what happened to that unfortunate? <Michelle> I read it was in the millions of degrees Glossaria. Or was it hundreds of millions... <Glossaria> ::nodding distractedly in response to Michelle's comment:: I wonder, though, if the nature of magical lightning differs from that of natural lightning in such respects... ::frowning in thought as she continues to scribble notes:: I've read of mages who could tint their lightning to certain desired shades.... <Alfonse> Well, it was one of those things. Really. He was working on this insubstantibility matrix, and some of his papers got mixed in with mine somehow, and it really was an accident, and an odd twist of fate that he was the subject of my perfectly harmless experiments, but in the end, some of his, um, head is insubstantial now. <Alfonse> It might wear off. Eventually. We've got two sets of numbers, and we're not sure which is more right. Or less wrong. <Glossaria> ::eyes wide:: His... *head*? Is it still... er... *there*? Has it affected his thinking processes at all? ::getting slightly excited:: Can you see an exposed cross-section of his brain? That would be *fascinating*....! <Kevil> ::gives Gloss another look, this one somewhat more disturbed:: <Glossaria> ::giving Kevil a wounded look in return:: One is not generally able to view the brain in situ, so to speak, without causing great damage to the subject. My interest is purely scientific. ::sniffs:: <Kevil> I am certain that it is, bright angel. <Alfonse> We think it's there. We know the part we can see is there, at least. And he seems to be normal. Mostly. He keeps calling green blue,and blue green, but some people think he was doing that before, but just wasn't telling anyone about it. And... he wears a lot of hats, now. So I don't know. There was a small explosion, at the time, and I was a little distracted, so I didn't get a good look when it happened. <Glossaria> ::sighing and taking another sip of wine:: And so the difficulty in recreating it... pity. <Kevil> Hats, indeed. Allow me to recommend to your colleague the excellent haberdashery on Dunbury Street, if he has not already found his way there. * Michelle pulls a mug out from beneath the bar and takes a drink from it. * Alfonse nods at Kevil as he takes a bite of cheese sandwich (and almost the first joint of a finger). "I'll tell him. About the dasherhabery. On Dunbury Street." <Glossaria> ::smiling a little behind her hand:: How many hats can a man wear at once, Master Kevil? <Kevil> ::raises an eyebrow at Glossaria:: One is usual, though I will not claim to have never seen more. The shop also makes excellent wigs. <Glossaria> ::sighs:: I was attempting to tease you, Master Kevil. Ah, well. A skill I need to work on... * Glossaria takes another sip of wine. <Kevil> ::smiles:: Ah, but I rarely wear a hat at all, my sweet angel. I only frequent the place in order to purchase the occasional gift. * Alfonse remembers his water and gulps down about half of the mug. <Glossaria> ::grinning a little:: Such as for Lord Jaret? <Kevil> ::nods:: Certainly. Or for my lady wife, who occasionally enjoys certain styles. Or my daughters, who are yet too young for much sun... The possibilities are myriad, you see. <Glossaria> Hm. ::cocking her head:: I don't believe I yet own a hat. <Kevil> Not even one? ::he bows floridly from his barstool:: Allow me to drop a word in your husband's ear, bright angel, that he should rectify the matter at the soonest available opportunity. <Glossaria> ::blinks:: Vallel? ::cocking her head:: Is there a reason that Vallel should buy a hat for me, rather than I buy one for myself? <Kevil> Only that it is pleasant to receive a gift from someone that one holds dear. <Glossaria> Oh. ::considers:: But... how will he know if it fits me, if I've never worn a hat before? <Kevil> ::smiles:: I am certain he will contrive to obtain your measurement in some way. <Glossaria> Ah. Well... ::smiling a little as she sips her wine:: ...that could be entertaining as well. * Michelle smiles and has another drink from her mug. * Alfonse quietly thinks. "He could take a casting of... no, that would probably leave residue..." <Kevil> Excellent. ::he drinks down the last of his rapidly-cooling wine:: Though it may not be this very evening, I fear. My family awaits. <Glossaria> Ah! The girls do well, I hope? I must come see you all sometime soon... how do they fare in the cold? <Kevil> They thrive. When, on those rare occasions they stand still, I might swear that I can see them growing... ::he smiles:: Aylin loves the cold, it seems, while Shavyl prefers the heat. It is something of a challenge, I admit, to keep their room at a temperature which they both find equitable. <Glossaria> ::smiling wider:: They still will not be separated? <Kevil> Not often, or for long. They will play separately, but if the other is not within sight... ::he shrugs and grins:: * Alfonse finishes his cheese sandwich and mug of water in alternating bites and gulps. "I should probably be going. Home." <Michelle> ::smiles:: Well if you ever want to take another meal break from your work feel free to stop by again. <Glossaria> It was good to see you again, Master Alfonse. Please, if you're allowed, I'd love to hear about some of your findings at some point. <Kevil> I, as well. ::he captures Gloss's hand and kisses her fingers:: Do come and visit, angel. We all would welcome you with joy. ::he pulls on his cloak and bows to Michelle and Alfonse:: Lady, Sir. I bid you all a good night. <Glossaria> ::smiles:: Good night to you, Master Kevil, I will. I promise! * Kevil straightens his shoulders as if preparing for some immense bravery, and steps out into the frigid night. * Alfonse stands and heaves his pack onto his shoulder. If the bag could sigh, it would. He tries to return Kevil's bow and almost collapses. "I of course. Yes. That's very kind. Thank you very much." * Alfonse staggers out the door and (hopefully) home. <Glossaria> ::smiles a little as Kevil leaves and looks around:: Best I leave, too, so you can get home, Michelle. And make sure my books are alright... ::casting another look at the door:: <Michelle> Have a safe trip home Glossaria. <Michelle> I'll talk to the others and see what we can do about building something to store people's goods. <Glossaria> ::straightening up from her lean on the books and gathering them into her arms:: My thanks, Michelle, you as well. ::glancing down:: Just as well I didn't leave these outside, but I'm glad Master Alfonse wasn't here officially. * Michelle smiles and waves a hand, "I don't want to know Glossaria." <Glossaria> ::smiling wider:: No, you don't. Good night. ::hefting her books up a little higher and heading out the door:: * Michelle starts cleaning up and then looks around the empty Hall, "Damn, I forgot to make them pay." She shrugs and finishes straightening up the Hall before departing herself. |
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