Obrimos Path Meet-up

[Cryotic]

Having nothing to comment about paint thing, Orpheus just sort-of watched, his grin widening as the situation continued. Finally, he speaks up, "You've got a touch of paint on your cheek there." He might've just killed Ixidor's fun, but Vae just seemed so perplexed.

Grabbing some food for himself, the Mystagogue plops himself down into a chair, idly wondering why Reverb was getting so animated about the game he was watching. "I could use a drink, sure." He says, getting back up and leaving his food nearby.

[Ixidor]

"Probably the same way Reverb knew that I've been rocking," Ix says with a smile and glance to Vaeltia while he washes his hands. Unlike her, he had seen himself in the mirror since he got off stage. He just decided to wear it proudly; the smudge of eyeshadow or mascara likely streaked across his cheek when he wasn't paying attention to how he wiped with the back of his tattooed forearm. Eyeliner has also leaked into the wrinkles and lines of his skin around his eyes, as though he'd been crying. Mostly it's because of the sweat.

But during some songs that will always be pretty emotional to him, his eyes water even while he's banging his head and pulling angry faces.

Pointing with a thumb toward the guy that just spoke in a 'what he said' fashion, the Théarch splatters water all across the counter. He takes a whole roll of paper towels from the stock, wipes up the mess he made before even touching the food, and tucks the roll under his arm.

Somewhere in the middle of taking two plates, but leaving them stacked and loading the top one with wings, Ix simply asks Vae, "Redoing the den, or something?"

His mind hadn't immediately leaped to the conclusion that his fellow Obrimos painted artistically. He remembered the uniform she wore to Consilium, and that meant one of two things:

Cop, or stripper.

Her stature suggested the latter, but her Order the former. Either way, he has no way of knowing she's also an established painter.

[Leo Lockheart]

Leo continues looking at Vae's cheek when she asked him her question, wondering if she'd catch on before anyone said anything. He held a similarly sized potato chip up to his own cheek when Orpheus points out the paint.

"You also asked me and Weavebreaker if either of us painted when we finished our tour of the Circle." With a shrug and a smile he shoved the chip in his mouth. "Since that was over half a year ago, I'm guessing it's more artistic. That or you're an interior designer when you're not being an Arrow or a cop."

Leo raised an eyebrow when Halo walked in. He hadn't actually seen the Guardian look that pissed, but it was the look he thought Halo would've had after the door tried to eat him. "Not yet." Leo said in a small attempt to comfort his fellow Theurgist. "Cliff notes are as follows. Nothing. Nada. We haven't even got our drinks yet." The Arrow smiles to his favorite Guardian. "If it helps any, you can get a bunch of drinks from the bar. You get to drown away your sorrows, and if all goes well, we get some embarrassing stories to tease you with down the road. It's a win-win really."

With all that settled Leo eyed the Wings on his plate, wondering if he should get a drink first or risk looking like a raving idiot. "There a bottle of water behind that bar?" Because the twenty year old probably shouldn't be back there.

[Vae]

“Oh...not my den, I just find that painting is a better way to relax than mucking out the horses’ stalls.” she said with a grin, “Not that I don’t do that anyway.” She made her way past the rocker and began to try to remove the paint from her face. though, when Leo started mentioning booze she looked at him.

She had seen his ID, there was no booze going into that kid, at least not while they were here.

“And if you want to watch the people on bikes they’re outside of the window.” she told Halo. With a hand she grabbed her helmet again and put it off to the side before moving through to get some food.

“So, Reverb, I’m not sure how formal you intended to make this, but we should at least talk concerning what’s going on in the consillium. At the very least we have a Herald and a Sentinel here to move some issues along. Unless you wanted this to be more of a ‘welcome to the mighty of sacramento, lets enjoy a spectator sport’.” She smiled again. "Which is fine, I just want to know."

[Vae]

“Glo?” Vaeltia said with a raised eyebrow, “You mean the street drug that’s been up on the Æthernet for almost a year?” she tried to pull the Apostate’s train of thought back to the actual process of thought that might get somewhere. “I know there are some who chose to go by no shadow name at all, why should you care?”

[Leo Lockheart]

Leo grabbed his bottle and returned to his seat. He didn't really care where the water came from, just as long as the bottle cooled down hot wings it would suffice. He enthusiastically dug into the wings as he listened to the conversation going on. The Glo sounded serious, but it wasn't the story Leo expected to hear at the meeting. The story he wanted to talk with the other Theurgists about was the mention of an angel sighting.

After downing half the wings he takes a drink and wipes off his mouth and hands. "Don't know anything about the Glo or the Rossi dude. Personally, I'm more interested in the Angel sightings. Are they real, and if so, why is an angel in Sacramento?" He looked rather serious. The Old Testament angels weren't the cuddliest creatures, and if there was divine smiting going on the Mighty should know what's happening. One way or the other.

[Ixidor]

Ixidor blinks once at Halo's entrance, a headlight-targeted-deer look on his face for a moment. He's standing there frozen; with his stack of double plated wings piled high, the paper towels tucked under his arm, and reaching to spoon out some dip. He doesn't even know what the dip is, he just picked something that looked like it might be a Ranch or Blue Cheese... derivative.

"Naw man, it's cool." He reassures his Cabal mate with a clap of camaraderie over the shoulder and takes a seat. "You're not actually that late.

The rocker picks his stride back up quickly, recovering from the loop with ease. "Sit. Stay. Chill a while."

Over the next few moments, while the others mingle, there is surprising little chatter from Ix. The wings are being devoured like they're going out of style. It's quickly apparent what the second plate is for. The bones.

Ixidor is stripping bones of their covering with wicked efficiency. The pieces that are actual wingettes get a twist, are deboned with one pull, and are dipped and eaten like chicken nuggets. Only when wiping grease off of his hands and mouth with a section of three paper towels cause a pause in his cycle does he speak again.

"Well, my real name isn't exactly a secret," he adds neutrally. "Even though I don't use it among Awakened." At least he finished chewing and swallowed before he spoke.

Taking a swig of the drink Reverb delivered reminds him to belatedly answer the man's question. "There at the Ace of Spades this week. Not sure about next."

Almost as an afterthought, he adds, "I was dead sure I had an inside track to a show at the Avalon, but the cute little chick that hinted she knew the management never gave me a call back. Story of my stay in this city, that is."

Deciding to listen, rather than speak about Angels and Glo, Ix goes back to eating. He is paying very close attention, though.

Probably because it was after a drug overdose that he first saw angels. Shortly before pulling a quill from his own dirty wings to write his name at the top of the Tower of the Golden Key in blood.