When used correctly there is virtually no sound made by the white cane. Tapping loudly is something done for attention more often than to assist in finding ones way around. There is the occasional click as the cane finds the edge of, for instance, a door frame, but not when it glides on the ground ( Read more... )

There are three things you need to know ( Read more... )

The Corinthian sides up to the front door, lowers his mirrorshades just enough to squint inside, then moves quickly to a vacant part of the bar. He scoots the stool aside with his leg, then leans a boit, equally on the bar and the stool. His tailored suit jacket and pants are a deep maroon colour, and he wears a plain black t-shirt underneath. ( Read more... )

Something was wrong.

Raistlin stopped, staring up from his booth before the window, and stared for a moment. He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, and then turned his eyes to the bar.

Power like that would not be hard for one such as him to find.

He rose, and went to seek it out.

[Plotlocked to the White Rider, when she's available -- email me ( Read more... )

Isn't it too early in the morning for evil ( Read more... )

Zuko seems to have taken up living around the fireplaces while he nurses his tea, unable to get warm or feel better. He dozes quietly, his eyes closed, but it's never for long. But it's either be down here, or be upstairs with his uncle hovering about him, giving him more uncertainty about the future; what he said, was it true? Were they really no ( Read more... )

There is an archmage in the typical shadowy booth, with a staff -- topped with a bronze dragon's claw clutching a crystal in it's grip -- and a perchant for black velvet with no adornment. He drinks wine and reads some think tome. It is not, however, a spell book.

It's The Count of Monte Cristo.

It seems to keep him occupied.

There's a Rachel in the bar this morning, rubbing her forehead in annoyance and with flame flickering through her hair. She'd slept...

...that was the problem.

Nightmares.

She was growing far closer to trying the flower Archie had given her for good dreams. For now though, she's down in Bar, hands cradled around a cup of coffee.

For dark mages; Raistlin Majere comes downstairs, amused at some thing ( Read more... )

The Door opens, unusually quiet; whisper thin, there is -- a strange scent and sound behind it. Something comforting, like mom's homemade cookies and the bark of the dog you had when you were eight -- had you a dog, anyway, or a mother who made cookies. It's a resting place from which Raistlin Majere comes, and it comes with happy dreams and ( Read more... )