There's a young man doing a handstand on one hand in a corner of the bar. He's held up by one hand, the other extended to the side as his eyes flit from his own feet to the hand to the hand holding him.

Another experiment, it seems.

Aaron enters the bar in a suit--a tweedy one that proclaims, This is the best thing I own--and immediately takes off his tie. He sits at the bar with a sigh.

"Sometime strong, please."

Up pops a whiskey on the rocks. It'll do.

He had to testify at a custody hearing today. A little sympathy would go a long way.

The Dryad is out back. It's a lovely day out (a little cold but she's a Rivan Princess so she's used to worse and at least it's not windy), so she's outside. She'd done her share of tree-greeting and chattering and climbing, so now she was just sitting under neath the tree nearest the bar with her homework, the kind from school as she'd already ( Read more... )

Angelo's just walking down the street, heading to his favourite Mexican place after a day's work at the UN.

He could run into anyone, really.

Angelo wanders into the bar, and looks around with a grin.

"Here again!"

It's a park. It could be anywhere, really. Against a tree is a girl, dressed mostly-Bohemian, on a blanket, with coloured pencils strewn out around her. On her lap is a sketchbook, and she is quite engrossed in her drawing. Come talk to her, though. She seems nice, if busy.

As strange folks go, she's not really all that strange. True, there are less and less nuns every day year ( Read more... )