In which a mun cannot believe she's really doing this

[getsome_sleep]

Characters: Huo (getsome_sleep), OPEN to debaters and onlookers!
Date/Time: Evening of the 27th.
Location: Smoke's in the City Without Walls.
Rating: PG, in case of drunk debauchery err debate that's right.
Summary: Debate night down at the pub. Huo's idea of a good time is a bit special.

Comments

[darcyredux]

As long as he didn't attempt to order alcohol, no one would look strangely at the teenager for long. Besides, he wasn't here to secretly drink, he was here to debate. Composer ran a hand through his hair, glancing about. He had worn only his usual attire, a short-sleeved blouse and pants.

That man, he'd never seen him before. Well, no harm in asking, he supposed. The worst that could happen would be that the man turned out to not be Huo and be a grump. But he didn't give off that feeling.

Stepping closer, Composer smiled a bit. "Are you Huo?"

[getsome_sleep]

"I am." Huo rose from his seat to greet the younger man, hands tucked into his sleeves and held together for his usual respectful bow of greeting. A little young, he thought at first glance, and then thought better of it. Who could tell any person's true age in the Sphere? He didn't even know his own.

Smiling, he pulled out one of the other chairs at the table, offering it to the newcomer. "Please, join me. I will assume that we have conversed over the journals?"

[darcyredux]

In response to Huo's bow, Composer executed his own. It felt natural to do so, as if he had many times in the past, even though he didn't bow to most. It was true that no one knew anyone's age, but hewould admit he did look young.

His smile widened into his normal polite one as he accepted the chair. "Thank you. We have, I'm Composer."

[getsome_sleep]

"A pleasure." It was an interesting name, Huo thought, Composer. Doubly so because it belonged to one who looked at least like an adolescent boy. None of the names he had encountered so far were overtly descriptive in this sense; 'composer' was a profession. He would not underestimate this boy; that thought, a touch unexpected, made him grin inwardly.

He did not mind starting off with a challenge.

"Would you consider yourself an admirer of the arts, being so named?" he asked. It was the most obvious meaning, though far from the only one. "Beauty and its ways make a superb topic for discussion, since that is what we are here for."

this can be post-Joshua so i'm not goldfishing you, or whatever works best :D

[seeya_next_life]

He'd gotten to the bar earlier than necessary, but it had been deliberate. Lea had been genuinely intrigued by this newcomer, and wanted to see what sort of man used a bar as a debate statium. Sidling into the bar, Lea cast his eyes about the room--there was the usual smattering of regulars, a few faces he'd seen sporadically, and... ah. He spotted a new face, off in a far corner, dressed head to tow in white and looking decidedly out of place. That must have been him.

Approaching the table, Lea gave the newcomer an inquiring look, his brows lifted and his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"You're a new face," he said, a hair of a grin creeping into his expression. "You must be Huo." He just looked like the very prim and meticulous writing from the journals somehow.

Works for me ^^ ... though goldfishing is a new term O_O

[getsome_sleep]

Glancing up, Huo quickly rose to his feet to greet the new arrival, giving a low bow, and a serene smile. "Correct. On both accounts." He had an air of confidence, this one, and the red hair reminded him of Rabbit and of Smoke, both of them with their own energetic demeanor. Maybe there was a connection. Maybe just a coincidence.

He gestured to the chair next to him. "Would I, in turn, be correct in assuming that we have spoken over the journals, and you are here for the debate?"

[seeya_next_life]

[goldfishing is when players in an open log don't acknowledge anything that has happened prior to their arrival, and assume that everything is happening like they're the first one to tag in, so essentially the OP is stuck in Groundhog Day, going back to the first moment in the log with each new thread instead of having the semblance of passage of time or the reference of previous actions.]

He was surprised when the man rose to his feet and gave a very deep, formal bow. Well that was sort of different. It seemed to be a customary thing--Nova had done it once or twice--but he couldn't quite connect the dots to figure out what common thing might have linked the people who had a tendency to bow when meeting new people. Grabbing the chair and spinning it around to sit backwards, his arms folded over the top, Lea grinned.

"You would indeed," he affirmed. "I'm Lea; got it memorized?"

[getsome_sleep]

[Gotcha, thanks - that is a useful term ^^. We'll put it post-Joshua then.]

"Lea," Huo echoed with a nod, since that looked like what the man wanted. He remembered that name from the journals. "The card player." There was something about this man's manner that suited that, he thought, something of the gambler. Forward. Daring.

He had a sudden idea. "May I ask, Lea, do you play mah-jong?"

[sumi_eight]

The prospect of a debate was an enticing thing. While the puzzle of the sphere itself provided great mental stimulation, the added bonus of potential death at the hands of the powers-that-be made it a far less appealing pastime than a simple, lively, non-lethal debate.

When she arrived, Sumi glanced around the bar, unsure of quite what to look for. Huo had sounded quite proper, like someone noble born or at least highly educated, and his precise handwriting lead her to believe that these traits could probably be found in the man as well. After all, much information could be derived by simply looking at someone's handwriting.

Sweeping a tendril of hair behind one ear, she finally spotted a man who fit her mental list of qualifiers and drew near to his table. "Huo, I presume?" she inquired as she approached.

[getsome_sleep]

"You presume correctly." Even as he rose from his seat to greet her, bowing low, Huo sneaked an upward glance and studied this new face a bit more closely than he had the ones who came before her. For the first time, he thought that he might be able to connect writing and face, without prior knowledge of either, and it pleased him - as did the woman's neat and thoughtful appearance. He smiled at her. "Sumi, if I may presume in turn?"

He didn't stare - that would have been unforgivable - but his gaze did linger, again, briefly, on her face. Was the piece framing her eyes some unknown device, or merely an ornament? It certainly did lend a curious, exotic touch.

[sumi_eight]

While there were many things that Sumi might've called her wire-rimmed glasses, 'exotic' certainly wasn't one of them. They were entirely plain, without any extraneous color or decoration, but it hadn't occurred to her that he might be from a world where the technology to make glasses hadn't yet been developed

[getsome_sleep]

Huo had also noticed the contrast, and was equally pleased by it. Yin-Yang, suitably arranged. This bodes well. The style she dressed in was both familiar and removed from what he might have considered normal, perhaps their different worlds - the worlds of their memory-dreams - had influenced each other, in some unknown way and time. Neither of them looked very much like they belonged in the bar, either, and that pleased him as well. They were their own corner of strange harmony

[ice_echani]

Handmaiden had not expected the idea of debate to strike her in such a way. Indeed, it had not when she'd first read Huo's entry, but it seemed to have stuck in her thoughts, resurfacing more than once throughout the day. A debate was not a spar, not a fight as Handmaiden would have defined it if she were to do so offhandedly. Yet... it was, was it not? A battle that was fought with words and ideas, sharpened to fine points to puncture another's arguments.

She had been to Smoke's all of once, for a birthday party, and she had not returned since. Handmaiden found such establishments frivolous and decadent, alcohol a pointless 'pleasure' that dulled thought and reflexes. But after her shift she found herself entering the building, looking around for someone who might seem like a person who would be interested in such a venture. After quietly asking a few solitary patrons, she finally stopped at the man in the corner, dressed all in white. "Are you Huo?"

[getsome_sleep]

"Indeed, I am." Huo's gaze had followed the woman since she entered, discreet yet interested. The white hair was not as shocking as Yachiru's pink or Stellaris' purple, but still, seeing it on an otherwise young-seeming woman made him wonder. Now as she approached, he rose and greeted her with a low bow, hands put together and tucked into his sleeves. Respectful. Something about her spoke strength.

"You have come for the debate, I presume." He gestured at the chair next to him, smiling softly in welcome. "Please, join me."

[ice_echani]

Handmaiden sat down, although she did not return the smile. "Thank you." She had found herself intensely curious about this, that was true, but try as she might the why still eluded her. And she knew that she was not skilled enough in words to be a suitable opponent to one experienced in such matters. Still, that was not a sufficient reason to shy away, and the wish to know overrode anxiety.

"I have, but I must admit that I am inexperienced in using words as a weapon," she admitted, her voice carrying the emotion that her permanently-stern expression masked. "You spoke of debating ethics and virtuous conduct. May I ask what those things mean to you?"

[getsome_sleep]

Huo's expression remained serene and friendly, allowing the woman her time - it was easy to sense her tension, though he could not puzzle out its source. He had made the suggestion hoping to enjoy himself, and provide enjoyment for others - it was a game, really, and an art. But she was here and now he was curious - she was different from the others he had spoken with.

Her reference to words as a weapon only spurred his interest further. "I am not here in hopes of wielding any weapons," he said softly, his tone neutral. Although perhaps his hopes had little to do with the reality of this game. The statement lingered in the air for a long moment as he considered her question; after a moment, he smiled.

"I believe that it is in the nature of virtue to be known and recognized by instinct, as robust in the balanced mind as the heart is in the balanced body. How can a man live, if his heart is malformed or displaced? And so, how can virtue mean one thing in one man's mind, another thing in another's?"