Open Mic at the Temple

[Key]

Finally someone who looked at the damn menu...

William shrugged at Jimmy as he began to work on the new orders; although the bumping of the chick with the harelip only made him raise an eyebrow. But tips were tips where ever they came from.

With a two finger lift he dropped the bill into the “Just the Tip...just to see how it feels” tip jar with a subtle eyebrow bounce. People just got weirder and weirder -- and so long as he kept getting paid, he really didn’t care.

At least the performances were getting better... With a flourish he grabbed the next orders and spun them out to the tables. It was open mic night, and it wasn’t too busy; so he could do the walking across the floor, but this wasn’t a restaurant, it was more like a bar sans waitstaff.

“So what’ll it be Jimmy?”

[Brenn Lawrence]

Brenn clapped loudly for Michael as he dismounted the stage. She knew that it was more in line with coffee house etiquette to snap, but sometimes her fingers didn't quite do what she wanted them to, and now she wanted to make her appreciation heard. The frustrations of live performance were especially familiar to Brenn and she held respect for anyone who was willing to perform, especially if they weren't particularly skilled but went for it anyways. That showed the heart of what it really meant to step up to the open mic.

She waited for a moment, gathering her courage, and then mounted the stage once it was clear no one else was up. She clomped over to the microphone and turned to the band. "Feel free to take a break, guys, this works better without any instrumentation. Hey! Eyes up," she snapped, gesturing with two fingers for the drummer and tambourinist to stop staring at her mangled mouth.

"Ok," she mumbled, turning back to the audience. "Hello and good evening everyone! I'm Brenn Lawrence and tonight I'll be sharing a few words with you that were written by one of my favorite poets, Steven Connell, a fellow Californian. I hope that some of you who are in the audience tonight," she said with wink towards the assembled kindred, "will find it inspiring."

With that said, Brenn began to recite the poem, her words echoing with intent and feeling through the microphone. Even around the way her harelip distorted some of her words, she delivered with a gravity and energy that transformed what she said from a jumble of words into a poem

Solid Performance

50151 2013-08-07 14:30:05 Brenn Lawrence rolls 10 to Slam poetry (pres+express+spec+WP) (WillPower) 2, 8, 3, 5, 6, 8, 3, 9, 6, 5 3 successes

[Hildegarde Bingen]

Hildegarde stared at the woman with hair lip as she began her recitation. The cadence and shape of the poem was unknown to her, but nots its power; not its truth.

"So speaks a Lord. You should take note, child." Hildegarde turned her head lazily; she had not expected the Courtier in her fine old robes to be seated close by, fan wafting lazily in her hand.

"Uh. No." Hildegarde replied as she joined in the applause.

[Claire Edmonton]

Claire sips the freshly served tea, taking her time to analyze it's flavors - otherwise, there would be no point to the experience beyond appearances. Ignoring that last bit of noise from Hildegarde, she instead addresses her proper remark, "Indeed, I find it to be interesting. Not entirely necessary, but it serves family interests to keep up with all of the goings on of the financial world. Have you taken up any new hobbies to interest you of late?"

She notes that the cadence of the spoken word performance is far more enjoyable than the visage of the poet, and looks off to the side. This seems to emphasize the general theme that tonight's entertainment was more for the ears than the eyes, but that was fine with her, as long fingers periodically brought her tea back up to her lips for further analysis.

For once, she was not trying to be the center of attention, even though it seemed she was a better candidate than the rest of those gathered here tonight.

[Hildegarde Bingen]

"I have not, no. I'm still finding my feet." Hildegarde smiled sweetly. "It would be nice to find a hobby, as you say. I don't think I'm cut out for number games, though." Her interest on the stage waning, the Lord shifted so she could focus more on the woman across the table - and for once the gesture is natural. Lifting her cup to her lips, she adds: "What do you prefer to do when not 'working the numbers' for the family?"

[Joseph Hartman]

"The Santa Elena Coffee I guess. Might as well see how it goes this time." Trying things twice and expecting different things to happen? Not insanity, life.

James takes a glance at the fight champion again before looking at William. "How's business?"

[Key]

The hipster Barista smiled, he had a few tips and tricks he could show Jimmy if the man ever decided that working behind a counter and going home smelling like Coffee was what he wanted to do with his life.

“Oh you know, same old same old. I had someone buy the silver needle tonight, and a few other things. Oh, Shandra might be in town. If you see her, tell her hi from me.”

Of course there was no one named Shandra, but Jimmy knew that, he also knew that it meant there was something that William couldn’t say with so many customers present.

As he talked he spun the coffee and teas into existence, with only a pause to take the money and return change.

[Claire Edmonton]

Contemplating her question with a slow mock breath, Claire answers Hildegarde, "I greatly enjoy music. Classical, opera, punk, but I'm not generally fond of the 'latest and greatest' in pop. I figured it might do me some good to see how the performers here tonight go about it."

And such are the limits of how much I should like to share with you this evening about my life. I wonder how else we might amuse ourselves tonight?

She returns to a slow, subtle sip of her tea, contemplating every nuance.

[Brenn Lawrence]

After dismounting the stage, Brenn returned to her table, simply people watching and wondering if anyone else was going to mount the stage. The sign up sheet had seemed rather sparse, after all.

[Martha Villiers]

After applauding the work of Michael Redfill and then Brenn, tiny Martha waves and beckons Brenn over and smiles to Micheal.

"Ah...the acoustics seem to be playing all manner of pranks with people tonight! The weather...doubtless the weather."

She offered Michael a shy smile to show her full and sincere support for his performance.

"Miss Lawrence is quite amazing!" she shares with Micheal.