The night has been drawing nigh for days, everyone awaiting it as they do a tantalizing dinner for the soul. The club is lit by candlelight and the glow of red neon from the bar. The crowd is small, but staunch supporters. Here they come to hear from the souls of the city, the poetic word screamed from the mouths of the wicked and pure. Here is their home, here is their abode.

Artists sit in the small tables and cubbyholes with sketchbooks and chalk allowing their muse to take them, the word made flesh to be so crude. Here they are inspired, here they are welcomed.

Anyone is allowed their time, anyone can speak, there are no rules here. Here is Sanfield in so many or few words.

I have been here sitting in silence for an hour awaiting my turn, there have been a few of note, some that inspire like the man of faith speaking of the divine within us all to the gutter punk whom spoke of thought crime and what will certainly come to be. They are all welcomed here. I stand taking in my muse, I have been inspired of late, feelings welling to the surface, breaking like bubbles upon a placid lake. I am dressed in my finery, lace and corset holding me tight within their grasp. I am a waif from another age. I am a poet reborn, whose soul yearns for those halcyon days that I was famous. I wish it again and it will certainly come again, one day.

I approach the stage, my make up perfectly done, I am the muse this evening and all here know this. I am perfection. (Casting Rote - Cool Glamour - Mind 2 Coincidental)

2009-01-28 22:47:17 Sarah Hill rolls 3 dice to Cool Glamour (Diff 5) 3,9,8 (2 successes)

I step lightly upon the stage, my black boots marking my steps toward the microphone. I reach up and softly lay a finger across it, producing a murmured thump across the club, it is my signature and those whom have heard me before know it well. I draw in my goddess she fills me with words as I speak seductively across the wire rimmed surface vibrating the acoustics in the club.

"Feelings that you give me make me dream
Dream of life's secrets
Your love is the joy that lets me live
And your words that touch my soul are the lilies in my forest


My orchid smells the sweet scent of passion
As you go down between my thighs your eyes gaze
You make me happy that I please you
You go deep in me to smell the scent of love


I spread wide for you to feel my soft body
You caress me with your tongue
You lick me softly
My warm body attracts you deep into me


The heat in me is the desire I can give you
You are aroused and I can smell your breath
The breath of lust has the scent of dreams
Dreams that I worship


Your tongue touches my softness and I moan
My sweet water begins to flow
As you lick my honey I moan again
Your tongue touches my orchid again and I arch


My breath quickens
My moans grow wilder
You make love to me so softly and gently
You are my goddess


The feelings you give me are the dreams of a virgin
I remember that night when my blood flowed to touch the earth
It was the dream that I became a woman
It was the touch that made me see heaven and cry


You took my heart and flew away
I am the female of nature
The female that stayed behind
Stayed behind and waited
For your dreams to make love to her again"

I finish with a sultry pause, feeling out what they crowd has been given from the heart of a true poet, the tenth muse.

2009-01-30 16:42:26 Pelayo rolls 3 dice to 'Go normal mode!' Arete [Matter:1, life:2, +3 coincidental, -1 diff specialty focus: Nano tech] (Diff 4) 5,3,1 (1 success)

Pelayo looks glossy. Maybe he has a sweating problem. Really its because his razor thin nano-skin is currently transparent so he can come to places like this and not look like a big grey-metal freak; even if that might fit in better than his current wild hair, entirely ordinary jeans and sneakers and red teeshirt with some unrecognizable symbol on the front. It requires a little concentration to maintain, thats why Pelayo is drinking coke rather than alchohol- if they even serve alchohol here. He was more fascinated by the barristas hair than by what she was saying.

The real question is why the hell is Pelayo, a Son of Ether, a bio-tech engineer and surgeon, a goddamn scientist sitting in a goth club listening to lezbo poetry.

Well thats simple; He wants to do the input/output dance with the only Goth he knows and needs some kind of insight to try and make that happen.

He may not understand half of what Skarah just spouted off, but damn she sounded good doing it. Being absolutely non-versed in Goth poetry reading etiquette Pelayo is likely the only person to stand and give a cheer when she finishes...  

--Last edited by Pelayo on 2009-01-30 16:51:15 --

Kovacs would watch for a bit staying mostly to the back. Watching the show and then sneaking out to tag the back of the building with a glyph that has a mind/matter effect wove into it.

2009-02-04 13:20:50 Kovacs Kurosagi rolls 2 dice to Reroll arete coffeehouse (Diff 3) 6,9 (2 successes){Diff 4 lowered by unique foci. Spray can)

When touched by anyone with mystic senses it triggers images of art and peace dark shadows and smoke.  

--Last edited by Kovacs on 2009-02-04 13:22:03 --

 I step down from the stage, a disdainful look upon my face. I am the muse and can not show any semblance of achievement. It would destroy the image and as I know, image is the generation of the self. I walk slowly through the crowd back toward my table, feeling everyone's eyes upon my perfect form. They can sense my greatness, they have been moved by my inspiration. Here is how I can shift the world, here is my ascension.

I take my seat anew at the table, my hand moving toward the thin stem of the chalice that holds my wine. It is the gift of the gods and I sip upon it as ambrosia. A small drop escapes the silver goblet and rolls slowly down my chin as I wipe it away seductively with my pinkie finger drawing it out seductively across my luscious blackened lower lip. With it upon my fingertips I reach out to the candles upon my table and twist the wick slowly. As I withdraw my hand with a quick snap of my fingers that wick snaps alight, the flame licking my hand as it is withdrawn.

Pelayo gathers his courage for a few minutes, not really listening to the next reader as much as he glances at Sarah over his shoulder. When there is a slight lull in the readings Pelayo will get up and finally approach her table.

Now if Pelayo is worse at anything than he is at understanding goth poetry, its initiating conversation with an attractive female. He does spend most of his time in a secret underground lab after all and Sarah isnt likely to get all hot and bothered over lasers. Like the perfect Goth Pelayo so desperately needs to impress...

'Hi, I.. Uh... I really liked your poem. I could.. totally see your orchid.'

On his way back in Kovacs would stop and take a couple hitters from his dugout. When he gets back into the bar he is trailing just a hint of dank weed behind him as he returns to his table and glass of water and begins looking around some more. His over sized black clothes and hoddie work to hide his size but his dirt smudged face is slightly perceptible from the folds of the hood.  

--Last edited by Kovacs on 2009-02-04 13:23:27 --

 She overlooks the man standing near her speaking, not exactly her type, but he at least had the temerity to try. She will just have to see how far he was willing to go.

"It was really a metaphor for the true beauty in the dark," with her eyes glancing toward his crotch in interest perhaps.

"Please sit, the spirits are gathering to hear their meat and drink. They clamor for attention and this is a gathering spot for the restless dead, I can hear them whispering in the corners reliving themselves through those that are here. Join me in welcoming them and being a conduit," nodding toward an empty chair at her table.

On the stage yet another poet has come on, a black man dressed in a leisure suit extolling the evils of the system and its repression of his ancestors. He is well spoken and pleasantly received.

Removing a well worn notebook from his back pack the small japanese kid would begin scribbling notes in it while looking up periodiclly to scan the room. A bit of his behavior screams of someone used to living on the streets and the constant need for watchfulness.  

--Last edited by Kovacs on 2009-02-04 12:49:24 --

Puling into himself Kovacs would feel the cool smoke swirl in his mind allowing him to widen his perceptions and take in the energies world around him.  [2009-02-04 13:27:35 Kovacs Kurosagi rolls 2 dice to prime sight (Diff 3)(-1 for foci weed) 2,7 (1 success)]

As the world comes into focus he watches the room checking around him looking at the people as well as the surrounding structure. His life has seen many monsters his last night at home and most nights after. So he has learned to pay attention...better to no when the hell to get out of dodge.

2009-02-04 13:30:04 Kovacs Kurosagi rolls 7 dice to Per+Alertness 1,3,3,1,4, 10,8 ( -1 die due to stoned-ness (failure)

2009-02-06 11:20:43 Pelayo rolls 6 dice to Perception+Awareness 3,9,10,5,1, 2 (1 success)

Pelayo is getting a few sensations about this place. Something non-mundane is happening and he just assumes its all Sarah from the draw of her cool glamour effect.

Again Sarah speaks and Pelayo is lost. Its not that hes dumb, its just a difference of language. He could likely baffle her with Biotech theories as easily as she could run circles around him about ghosts and poetry and mysterious meats. Pelayo will take the offered chair and sit, though his attention will be on Sarah, not the new poet at the microphone.

'This place does have a certain energy to it. Why would teh dead gather here?'

Pelayo again misses a metaphor. This dark, poetic speach will take some getting used to for the Etherite.

Using Prime sight Kovacs will see the shisps of energy in this place. Someone has performed magic here recently, the tapestry is only slightly warped and bent, funnelling all vision and energy to a single point that sems to rest right over Sarahs black painted lips. When Kovacs watches her he will see the tapestry is also warped around the man sitting with her but in a way he is incapable of understanding.

Kovacs watches them quietly wishing he could hear what they were talking about but with the performance and the coffee house noise it is impossible. So he begins taking notes about not just the coffee shop but the two of them putting in descrïptions and his perceptions while still trying to puzzle out what they might be up to.

 She smiles demurely at him as he takes the offered seat. She loves speaking to someone that might be interested and he has an odd look that she finds attractive, maybe its his skin or naivete.

"They are attracted here by the songs of the living, their vibrancy, their truths. They can feel this shop's age, its energy pull them toward it. They are here watching us, they need our attention, but it is very hard for them to tell us. It is the perfect tragedy, for all their want, they are cursed to be forever alone with only their regrets," in an ominous tone that sounds completely fabricated.

"What has drawn you here? I can sense that you were rejected as the rest of the outcasts that call this place and time our own," assuming he must be cool to have found out about the Black Pearl. The advertising was sporadic at best and only a few die hards and random bar patrons were the usual crowd.

Once he has recorded everything he can in his notebook, Kovacs stand and slips his back pack on. Grasping tightly to his hitter box in his left pocket he slips passed the table containing the two of them and brushes his right hand against Sarah's hair he breaths deeply of her scent and feels for he thoughts and emotions as he slips then away from her and outside.

2009-02-09 19:37:37 Kovacs Kurosagi rolls 2 dice to Arete activation of Mind2 (Diff 4){foci box} seeking to pick up surface thoughts and emotions 5,1 (failure)

2009-02-09 19:38:02 Kovacs Kurosagi rolls 10 dice to Stealth 10,4,1,2,9, 1,10,10,10,5, 6,4,4,6 (5 successes)

'Rejected? Me?'

Pelayo forces a laugh. Hes more self-isolated than rejected. At least thats what he tells himself. Rejection will likely come later, when he tries to cyber-goth-seduce Malaclypse. Collecting date here tonight is proving weird, too many variables.

'If you want to see a reject ill introduce you to Rahshid. Hes a geek and a possible terrorist.'

Inside jokes about people youve never met rarely get you too far. Pelayo will shuffle a bit and turn the conversation back to whatever Sarah was talking about.

'Is this place really that old?'