Samantha grasps Seth's hand and grins up at him, the other dissapearing into a pocket of her over-sized jacket. "Sure, lets do that."
At times fairytales do end happily as they're told in modern days. Some times the girl actualy got her Prince Charming after all. Even thought he is a tattoed and bearded heavy metal musican.
Samantha and Seth exit the scene.
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Ishani was getting tired. The night was still relatively young but the constant press of customers and the smiling and the greeting and the rushing around to meet orders was beginning to wear her down. Even though she was immortal and did not get fatigured as she used to, she could still get worn out and irritated.
Deciding it was time to take a break, Ishani informed her manager that if she was needed she'd be in her office. Slipping into the quiet room, she collapses into her chair letting her head sink to the desk
What the hell was I thinking? She moans to herself.
None the less, the night seemed to be a success and she was pleased to see such a large turnout. She wonders vaguely what Asa is up to and if the Asylum is doing just as well. Her mind wanders to thoughts of the Ventrue Priscus and the hot flash of jealousy shoots through her so quickly, she sits up with the force of it.
Frowning, she looks down at the clean, polished wood in front of her and considers the instant reaction. She'd had the reaction with other women before that she knew Asa gave attention to. Twist was among those at first. She had slowly aclamated to the idea of Twist being a part of their relationship, but her instinct for total possession of the one she loved still interfered with her conscious decision to accept the other woman. This was not something she could just let go of and accept. It was something she was going to have to work through.
Leaning back in her chair, Ishani looks to the ceiling for answers. Would she ever be able to accept Asa's nature without the constant irritation of knowing there were, indeed, other women involved in his life?
Probably not.
With a sigh, Ishani's head sinks back down to the top of the desk and for the first time in decades, she wishes she could cry.
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Asa entered Reverence, taking his time to appreciate all that had been done, and the changes that had been made. Finished, and filled with people, it was transformed from stark floorplans and to-do lists into something magical.
She made her vision come true.
Not immediately seeing Ishani, he made a slow circuit, curious as to what she was up to. After a few minutes, he finally pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to let her know he was there, and to see where she was.
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The Bouncer shrugs and motions to encompass the street in front of them. "If you want to perform man, go for it. I know the lady owner wouldn't have a problem with someone wanting to make a buck or two and if you're good, she might hire you for a gig. I
ll radio her and let her know what's going on, but if you want to get started, you're more then welcome."
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Ishani lifts up her head and checks the phone. She gives a slight smile at the message and responds, giving a brief description of where the office is.
Once finished, she puts the phone away and sits up, straightening her hair and smoothing down her shirt. The radio goes off and the bouncer informs her of what is happening outside. She tells him thats fine and sets the radio back on the desk. Looking at the clock on the wall, she briefly wonders how long this night is going to last.
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Asa read the message and headed to the office. On a busy night like this --both a grand opening and the Block Party event-- it wouldn't be unusual if she had a business emergency come up...
Or she's just 'over' the crowd.
He smiled slightly as he walked, both in anticipation, and at the thought of how similar, yet differently, they handled people. Finding the office door, he knocked.
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Ishani asnwers the door shortly after the knock.
"Hey." She says shortly as he steps inside. She closes and locks the door, turning around to head to the couch.
The desk sat against the wall farthest from the door, it was large, cherrywood, and gleamed in the low lights of the room. There was a couch placed almost in the middle of the room, facing a large television that hung on the wall. Two cherrywood tables flanked the couch and another large chair sat next to one of the tables, turned to face the couch. Behind the couch were three large bookshelves. They were currently packed half-hazardly with books as if Ishani had not had a chance to organize them just yet. A big, soft carpet lay under the couch and chair area but the rest of the room was done with wood flooring. Her heels clicked softly on the floor as she moved.
"Asylum doing well?" She asks as she sits down.
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Asa looked around, but what his eyes saw mostly was nothing. No emergency or the dust settling of a frenzy of activity. Which meant she had probably retreated here for some quiet calm.
"Hey, yourself," he replied with a concerned smile. "The place looks fabulous, and seems to have drawn quite the crowd."
He sat, stretching his long legs out to balance one foot on the other.
"The Asylum is... the Asylum," he answered.
Looking over, he smiled. "Werewolves and all."
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She quirks an eyebrow and leans her head on the back of the couch. "Sounds like a barrel of fun. Since you're still in once piece I can saftly assume they decided to play nice."
She nods in response to his first comment. "Yeah, the rennovations went well. It filled up rather quickly once the doors were open, but we will see how long it stays popular. It is new and I expect a lot of business in the next month or two, but after that will tell me if it will be a true success or not."
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Joseph looks at the bouncer for a moment before he smiles and dips his head towards the man. “Thank you very much, I appreciate it. I’ll set up and get out of your way.” He extends a hand towards the bouncer, palming him a twenty. “The Reverence has great service,” he offers, walking away. He returns to the alley where he had put his improvised kit and picked it up. He made sure not to get in anyone’s way as he carried his assortment of buckets, pots, and a few other odds and ends; his step carries him forward with a peculiar spring in it, even despite the load he carries. He takes a moment to set up on the edge of the sidewalk in front of the middle of the waiting line. He looks at the “kit” with a smile and then pulls his drum sticks form inside his coat. Tonight is a good night. Good policy, a good show, and later a good drink.
He sits down and takes off his coat laying it beside him. A simple, steady quiet beat emanates from his instrument as he addresses the line. “Good evening everyone. It looks to be a fun night,” he says with a wolfish grin. “Cold though…On behalf of the Reverence I would like to welcome you and provide some waiting music. Maybe you’d like to consider some, ah, movement there to get you warm, warm for the party inside. Get your blood and your rhythm flowing…”
With his introduction out of the way he raises his stick in a mock salute and begins a quiet and fast drum roll (or bucket roll) and slowly builds to a loud crescendo, ending it with a quieter strike of his “cymbal” (the lid from a barbecue). Without a pause he begins a basic, pounding rhythm and ads more and more complexities to it, his beat like that of a great heart… He clearly is talented and experienced, as skilled as a professional musician and yet he also has a burning intensity as he plays, a bedrock deep intensity. He grins as he plays, seeing some of the people waiting in the line beginning to move, even if ever so slightly. Yes, tonight was a good night…
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