The Clutch (A bar for airship pirates, ragamuffins and other law breakers)

[Sandpunk]

A little shaken at the scene before him, the priest gingerly slid up onto a stool and glanced across at the woman "manning" the bar. Briefely concidering her tattoos he placed a few bills on the scarred and pitted wood, "Probably a bit of a long shot, but would you happen to serve an irish cream?" He coughed once his rough voice being a little difficult to talk around.

[ScytheKnight]

Almost forgotten in his corner the mercenary looks the newcomer over raising an eyebrow slightly at his obvious holy calling.

*he places several coins on the table before him before lighting another cigarette*

"Scotch, leave the bottle will you?" He places his order with a passing waitress before his eyes return to roving across the room.

[CorneliaCarton]

"I see that you've forgotten me, Byron" She said, a hint of sadness in her voice as she turned and poured him his drink. She then poured the mercenary his drink, before turning and handing them both their respective drinks. She took the money, opening the till and taking out what ever change their was, handing it too to it's respective owners. She closed the till with a slam and grabbed the bottle of scotch, placing it infront of the mercenary.
She then set about cleaning the parts of the bar that weren't in use, not saying a word, a silence having settled over the sky pirate.

[Sandpunk]

Desperately scrambling for an appropriate responce Byron quietly slides the coin into the pocket of his coat. "A true tragedie m'lady." He Palms a crudely rolled ciggarette and sets it on his lip. " I do appologize. I have been in the questionable service of a few captains over the last two years." He finds his small lighter tuced behind his binble and carefully puffs the ciggarette into life, "I would hope to remember one so lovely, but I am unfortunatekly remiss. Perhaps you could clear my faded memories?"

[ScytheKnight]

The mercenary slides the coins off the table and secrets them somewhere, although he is careful to make sure no-one knows where. He takes a cautious sip of the scotch and smiles slightly in appreciation before taking a second larger drink.

His eyes continue to rove the bar, smiling slightly and chuckling softly at Byron's predicament.

[CorneliaCarton]

"You really don't remember me?" She asked, looking at him, hurt.
"I used to be known as Lady Carton. You found me one day sitting on a bench in the park, crying because my husband had divorced me and left me for another woman" She said, fighting back the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes.
"You took me by the hand and took me to the church, telling me that God would help to heal my heart. And I prayed that the pain would go away, that God would take the pain away and you prayed with me" She said, looking back at Byron.
"A blind man could have seen the look in your eyes" She mumbled under her breath, no longer looking at him.

[The Corsair]

He waltzed into the clutch and immediately stopped in his tracks at the tangible tension
Cornelia stood at the bar in tears
A stranger sat in front of her looking decidedly awkward
An unknown figure sat in the corner, possibly a mercenary, making a point not to make eye contact with any of the bar's other patrons
He silently moved to a stool at the far end of the counter and waited for the end of Cornelia's apparent breakdown.

[ScytheKnight]

He watches as the newcomer enters the bar, plainly still recovering from the night before. He smiles slightly as the stranger, perhaps very sensibly, takes a seat at the far end of the bar.

He finishes off the drink in his glass and pours himself another from the bottle before leaning back slightly to watch the interplay. The move of apparent relaxation comes off more like a spring slowly coiling itself in readiness for release if necessary.

[Sandpunk]

He thought on that one, it had been quite some time since he had actually set foot on holy ground, let alone been inside a sanctuary. He tried to place her, searching for a way to soothe her tears.

A bereft woman now as then, save for the fact tha tnow it appeared to be his own fault."Dear woman," he pushed the coffee aside and carefully set the smouldering tube on the saucer. "I must appologize." He gently reached to touch her hand, "In this light, in this place, I would not have expected to find you." He sighed and looked a little to his right, "I would not have expected to... but... My dear why are you here?"

[MWBailey]

"Bereavement," Erasmus Saintley (Bailey's first commanding officer) had once said, "however it is arrived at, tends to cause people to do suddenly things that harm themselves and others."

The Tesla rig could be used, crudely, as a blasting or shocking weapon, but it could also be used to do quite a large number of other things. Nonlethal, beneficial things --Some of which would keep a bereft person from harming themself or others. He surreptitiously turned turned on the 'fanny pack' rod and generator, and as it hummed to life (almost inaudibly) he used his pinkie finger to joggle a smallish lever to one side, and when a barely-noticeable arc crossed his left hand (where the levers were located) manipulated a separate lever with his right hand, on the belt, thus locking the field  in place.

The field's tertiary effect was to ward off sudden impacts such as bullets, knife blades, punches, etc. the primary effect was to create a 'sticky' field in which and from which it became possible to remotely capture or move objects, whether small or many times the user's size and weight. It was invaluable for day-to-day  duties aboard a primarily cargo-hauling vessel, which essentially the Venture had been.

Bailey sat back, nursing the pint he had acquired earlier, and waited, watching, as a very slight hint of ozone wafted up around him.

[The Corsair]

Realizing he would be denied of a drink for a while, the corsair quietly left
once outside he took a stroll around the shops where he bought himself a low top hat
the thought of Abigail's unknown whereabouts still troubled him
It's too late to look for her now... wherever she is, she'll have to fight her own way out. I would meet her halfway with that but I have no idea where halfway is...
He walked towards the docks where his airship, the Implacable, lay silent...

[CorneliaCarton]

She looked at Byron, feeling his hand touch hers.
"I'm here because I became a Pirate. I gave up on the life I had. I was sick of it. Always being expected to do certain things in certain ways. I was always too wild and free for anyone to try and change. I left. I changed my name, bought an airship, found a crew and we sailed the skies, taking only what we needed and never killing anyone. The most feared pirate airship in all the skies...." She trailed off, her watery eyes filled with wonder. She looked back to Byron, her hand covering his.
"I always hoped I'd find you again. The only kind person in a world of strangers, the only one who loved me for who I was" She said, blinking, sending the unfallen tears racing down her cheeks.

[MWBailey]

's can't end well, MW found himself thinking, he's a priest! that scarf sorta covers that collar o' his, but not quite, it's a miracle for 'is sake Cap'n Cornelia's not seen it an' figured it out yet an' decked 'im fer gettin' 'er 'opes up!

[The Corsair]

He fixed himself a coffee once inside his ship's gondola and he headed to the aft of the ship where the stairs into the envelope lay
He climbed the stairs and again headed to the aft of the ship where his myriad of weapons lay in a secret compartment
Bailey took all my ammo... sneaky b*****d

Once restocked, he headed back down into the gondola and set about tinkering with his wrist mounted weapon
Definitely on it's last legs, and if Abigail turns up again I'm going to need it to be firing reliably
As he worked, he listened to the hustle and bustle of the port outside...

[Sandpunk]

(OOC: sorry for the delay, Job whipped me yesterday)

Reaching into the interior breast pocket of his coat he retrieved a well used handkerchief. Grimacing at its slightly bloodied state he reached up to dab at her tears. At least that seemed to calm her somewhat. "Piracy, of any sort, is difficult work." He placed the cloth into her palm and folded her hand over it, "It can be quite dangerous, I'm sure you know." Finally taking a sip of his coffee with one free hasnd keeping the other on hers.

He glanced at his abandoned ciggarette, and decided it was less important, "I am glad that you seem to be unharmed." Placing the cup back on it's saucer He adjusted his glasses and looked up into her shimmering eyes, "Did you find what you were looking for out there?"

[CorneliaCarton]

She shook her head.
"No, I didn't. I found what I was looking for right here, Byron" She said. She moved around the bar, moving towards him. When she reached him, she just stood there, looking at him.
"I'm sorry I left, Byron. I'm so, so sorry I hurt you by leaving, but I didn't have a choice. I had to go" She said.
Cornelia's façade fell, and for a breif moment the same woman that Bryon had seen in the park stood before him, the hardy sky pirate gone.

[Sandpunk]

It was a serious act of will to keep his eyebrow from moving toward his hairline. Things had begun to move toward the fabled vanishing point. The indication of a potentially intimate relationship further complicated the situation. Her eyes had cleared though, and he was looking at a vulnerable woman. Cautiously he reached his hand up with the slightest nervous tremble and again took hers, "The past is not to be held against anyone." He touched his bible, "Forgiveness and all that." He smiledas warmly as he could manage, the glasses sliding down his nose a bit. Great gods could his memory truly be that scarred?

[CorneliaCarton]

Cornelia snatched her hand away from him, the sky pirate returning to her eyes.
"You don't remember, do you?" She asked accusingly.

[Sandpunk]

Byron sighed heavily and decided it would be simplest to show her. "I don't remember much of the years before I was pressed into piracy myself," He removed his glasses and lifted a section of the wild mass of hair on the right side of his head to reveal a large circular scar. "I've another on the other side aswell." He retrieved the ciggarette and took a long satisfying drag.

"Not all my memories, mind you, are lost to me." He tapped the ash off onto the saucer and looked up at her again. "I can remember most of my time in seminary, and even a few days of my marriage," he sipped at his cooling coffee, "but I have no memory of my service to the king, nor how I recieved these." He pulled down his scarf and collar exposing nasty jagged scar tissue all along his throat as if slashed deeply several times, "And sadly, no I do not remember you. Though, I greatly wish I could."

[CorneliaCarton]

"I should have known you'd forget me. Everyone else has" She said bitterly, turning away from him.
"Why should anyone remember sweet little naive Annabelle Jane Carton?" She added in a soft voice, her old self showing through her eyes breifly, but it dissapeared just as quickly. She looked back at Byron sadly. She moved closer to him and leaned over, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away and moving back around the bar, but she had her back to the patrons and she used her arms to lean against the shelf containing the bottles of alcohol, taking deep breaths.

[Sandpunk]

Shivvering briefly at the touch, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Listening to her steps as she moved about the room. "My lady..." he swallowed a knot of anger. His fingers tightened until the ciggarette shredded the cherry ember darkening as it hit the floor, "I am sorry." He bit his lip at the repetition.

It hurt him. It hurt to breath. It hurt to wake up every day and travle to some God forsaken den of filth and waste trying to find men that most people swore were dead. It hurt that he was bound to that walking abomination that called itself a man. It hurt to know that he was known. And worse yet It hurt that he was expected to assume fault for the butchering of his own brain. A darkened spot appeared on the wood of the bartop as a tear rolled off of his chin. They should have killed him like they did Jacob.

He should have left when she first recignized him, but it was too late for that. His breathing evened out to a slow forced pace. "I came here looking for a man," he adjusted his glasses as ice seeped into his voice. "A priest most likely, like myself. His name was Hammish." His hands folded over one another as he looked at her. "He is an old man, perhaps in his late 70's, bald, with a northern accent, and grey eyes. Have you heard of or seen him?"

[Lord Wraste]

Wraste ordered another round for himself, his chatting companion gone quiet in the ruckus at the end of the bar.
I should stay out of this, I know I should... I should stay out of...
"Damn it." He muttered to himself.

He sighed, "Padre! Father Byron, that you? My it has been a long time!"
A warm and friendly smile raised the a light behind Wraste's eyes as he sidled along the bar to the dust covered priest.
"You look worse for wear, Padre. Buy you a drink while we catch up?"

[Sandpunk]

"The hell?" The Ice cracked as his head flung around. Two years working for murderers and thieves and never anyone alive to remember him. Then suddenly this room, this BAR.

"I'm sorry..."again he was stammerinbg on that word. "How do you know me?"

[Lord Wraste]

"You are Father Byron, yes? You look a little worse for wear, but I'd know you from a dozen paces in any state of repair!" Wraste said jovially. "I'm not surprised you don't remember my face, Padre. I was one of many men that you've met in your travels, and besides, I was just a lad last you saw me. It's me, Gabriel." Wraste flashed a grin of comfortable camaraderie, the light never leaving his eyes.

"Can I get you a drink, Padre. You're looking parched."

[Sandpunk]

"it's," he shook his head, "It's Brother actually." He pulled the scarf back up over the collar. "Circumstances of my sect affraid." Turning on his stool he sized up the man."no I've had my drink thank you," he placed his hands on his lap. "Were you a King's man or elsewise?" Elsewise from the look of him, but the King's were taking almost anyone nowadays.