Grobbler sits down at the bar, furthest he can from the other patrons. He left a note with Edna so that the others would know where to go. His trip to The Four Seasons had surprised him a little, but that wasn't a bad thing. He felt confident that things were looking up.
He fishes into his pocket for his slim wad of spending cash when suddenly he is struck by a thought that hasn't crossed his mind in years. Maybe I should clean up and find a job... He tries to rationalize where the idea comes from. After all, if he finds Sarah he can't let her see him like this. Yea. He'll try to put things together again, but just for her sake.
After spending a morning teaching some kids how to play guitar, Pryderi feels a bit thirsty and heads into Old Ironsides for a drink, his guitar strapped to his back. As soon as he enters, he recognises Grobbler and moves over to him, keeping a respectable distance.
"Hey, man, would you like a drink? I'll get the first round."
"Hehe, I'm not to sure it did in all truth. I'll tell you about it if you're bored or I'm too drunk," Pryderi says, laughing. "What's you're poison," he asks, pointing to the bar.
"High Life is fine. If you're offering something fancy then Whiskey on the Rocks would be great."
Grobbler swivels his stool as far as it turns to get a sense of the bar's ambiance.
"You know, everywhere I look I keep running into people who just got here, or you know, just got back back. So where you from, man? You been here in Sacramento a long time, or are you new?"
Marilee pulls up outside the bar, abruptly stopping the decrepit old motorbike she'd bought used last week. It comes to a stop with a rumble and a clank, and she rolls her eyes. She's got to fix the stupid thing - it won't do to have the owner of a auto repair shop riding a bike that looks like it'd fall apart at the slightest provocation.
Right. Social interaction. Lee takes a deep breath, steeling her resolve, and walks into the bar. There are two changeling guys already sitting up at the bar, conversing. She settles herself onto a bar stool, orders a beer from the bartender, and stretches out with an audible clank that makes her wince.
"Still getting used to that," she mutters to herself.
Ordering two whiskeys, Pryderi turns to Grobbler, sighing at the lost memories. "Alot of it has gone with the Thorns. I know I was born in Wales and held a passion for music, especially rock and metal bands, like Metallica and Iron Maiden, you know."
Taking the drinks, Pryderi passes one to the Ogre before continuing. "The next thing I can recall is being part of a band and we were supporting someone 'round the States. It was while in Sacramento that I was taken." Taking a sip, Pryderi then asks, "How 'bout..." The sound of the clank along the bar makes him turn in his stool.
Shit. Nothing to be done about it now, Marilee thinks. Besides, the guys know why she's clanking, or they can guess.
"Hi! Sorry, it, uh, does that," she says, gesturing at the offending knee joint. "I'm Marilee - you can call me Lee. I'm new here, I guess." She stands up to extend a hand to the guy who turned around, and waves at the fellow he'd been talking to. Nothing, mercifully, clanks.
"Well, I suppose the odd clank can be excused," Pryderi replies, winking and shaking the proffered hand. "My name's Pryderi. Don't worry, its Welsh, so the spit comes natural."
"I'm still getting used to it - the clanking, that is. It's not out of place around the shop, at least."
Marilee checks her pocketwatch, and sighs. "Speaking of the shop, I should be getting back there. The old bike needs some more work, and I think I've got an appointment coming up. I'll see you guys around, I hope!"
((OOC: Class time sneaks up on a person, my apologies! Hopefully we'll meet up again soon!))
Draft this Post
