[Part of the Creatures of the Night roleplay]
Angela’s snapped back to reality after her deep focus on the new guy in the bar. She noticed that Tegan was still gone, she looked around looking for the girl and then saw her coming back towards the table.
“Sorry it took so long,” Tegan apologized as she took her seat.
The blonde girl was bouncing in her seat as she excitedly spoke with the sitar girl.
Tegan must’ve just missed something fun.
However, she couldn’t find it in her to care too much.
She took a swig from her cup before pulling her coat over her lap. Part of her prayed that the girl would play once more and provide a suitable distraction for Tegan to leave. She didn’t feel like being around people much anymore.
Angela could feel that Tegan didn’t want to be here any longer and she didn’t need to look inside of her soul to do so. She could see that her eyes are heavy and drowsy, and her expression shows that she is bored and sleepy. “Tegan,” she says, “You can leave if you want I’ll be fine. You look so tired and I rather you get some sleep then keep me company and strain yourself like this.”
“Oh!” Tegan flushed, her embarrassment shown plainly on her cheeks. “I’m quite sorry! I didn’t mean to…I mean, I’ve been tired all day, and…”
She stopped and groaned. “Yes, I believe I will leave rather soon. I feel as though I can barely stand. I’ll finish my drink, then return home.” she spoke more to herself than Angela.
She then downed what was left of her drink and stood, bidding her table-mates a good night.
She pulled her coat over her shoulders and began to walk out of the bar.
She had every intention of leaving, except that, on her way out, she noticed a woman by the door.
The woman was tall, blonde, and exotic. She was like an amplified version of the sitar girl. She was beautiful, that could not be denied, but her beauty was expertly marred by the sadness evident on her face.
Perhaps it was Tegan’s motherly instincts, but she found her way over to the table. “Excuse me, but are you alright?”
Angela’s snapped back to reality after her deep focus on the new guy in the bar. She noticed that Tegan was still gone, she looked around looking for the girl and then saw her coming back towards the table.
“Sorry it took so long,” Tegan apologized as she took her seat.
The blonde girl was bouncing in her seat as she excitedly spoke with the sitar girl.
Tegan must’ve just missed something fun.
However, she couldn’t find it in her to care too much.
She took a swig from her cup before pulling her coat over her lap. Part of her prayed that the girl would play once more and provide a suitable distraction for Tegan to leave. She didn’t feel like being around people much anymore.
“Oh sure go ahead, she said as she gives another warm smile.
Tegan was exhausted. As the bartender filled her glass to the brim, Tegan massaged her temples.
A part of her just wanted to leave. She didn’t like this bar.
Her eyes traveled once more around the bar. It seemed like the blonde girl was still excitedly conversing with the sitar girl. Angela seemed to be almost mesmerized by a new addition to the bar: a large man with black spiky hair.
Another man had entered—a solemn man with dark hair and a dark coat—and he was sitting with the object of Angela’s attention.
Tegan wondered if she could just sit at the bar and be alone. She didn’t mind speaking with Angela, but she was just tired of other people. It wasn’t probably even noon yet, and she was ready for bed.
She had to go back to that table—she had left the coat her daughter had given her there.
She straightened up and headed back to the table, thinking of reasons why she might have to leave suddenly with a full pint of beer.
Angela was taken back by Tegan’s question, how was she supposed to respond to this?! Her real home was in heaven, and she couldn’t give away that she was an angel, but she had lived for some where else when she was cast out. Where was it again… ah yes! France! “I’m actually from an European Country myself as well, I used to live in France.” She then closes her eyes trying to depict the landscape, “It was such a beautiful country as well, and the most beautiful landmark there was the Eiffel Tower, a piece of art, I miss being there.”
“That sounds…lovely.” Tegan smiled, a little confused as to why she had taken so long to answer. However, that train of thought was derailed when she realized she had no idea what the Eiffel Tower was. It was art, she got that. And that was the extent of her knowledge of on the Eiffel Tower. And France, for that matter.
Angela sees by Tegan’s face that it seems that she has no idea what the Eiffel Tower was. “Oh you don’t know? I thought you would have at least heard of it, it’s one of the most famous structures in all the world. It was built in 1887 then finished in 1889, it’s architecture and crafting is amazing.”
“Oh.” Tegan answered. “Um, I’ve heard of it…”
When Tegan had decided to live a life on the surface, Ronan had tried to give her a broad, elementary understanding of how things were.
However, Tegan had always had trouble keeping every fact in check. She knew pieces of a lot of things, but never what those pieces meant in relation to anything else.
So, yes, Tegan knew that the Eiffel Tower existed and that it was a tower, but that was kind of it.
Her eyes drifted down to her glass. If they were going to talk about architecture, she was going to need another pint.
“I’m quite sorry, but I’m just going to get another drink. If you’ll excuse me.”
Angela was taken back by Tegan’s question, how was she supposed to respond to this?! Her real home was in heaven, and she couldn’t give away that she was an angel, but she had lived for some where else when she was cast out. Where was it again… ah yes! France! “I’m actually from an European Country myself as well, I used to live in France.” She then closes her eyes trying to depict the landscape, “It was such a beautiful country as well, and the most beautiful landmark there was the Eiffel Tower, a piece of art, I miss being there.”
“That sounds…lovely.” Tegan smiled, a little confused as to why she had taken so long to answer. However, that train of thought was derailed when she realized she had no idea what the Eiffel Tower was. It was art, she got that. And that was the extent of her knowledge of on the Eiffel Tower. And France, for that matter.
(Source: teganmccrory)
Tegan the Selkie: “It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems…
“It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems she’s not a very social person, and it sees she wasn’t even expecting her to talk to her. But no matter of course play it cool as I have been doing. “Tegan what a interesting name.”
“Um…yes.” Tegan answered. She…
“Oh Ireland, I’ve heard of that place isn’t Ireland somewhere…” Angela stops herself as she notices that Tegan has stopped paying attention to her. She then fixes her eyes over to the younger girl, she is still there and seems occupied inside her mind. She then fixes her eyes back to Tegan and continues her sentence. “Isn’t Ireland somewhere in Europe?
“Ah!” Tegan was thrust back into reality with that question. She found that she had to think about the question for moment before answering. “Oh, yes, yes it is. It’s, um, right off the coast of England.”
She had never been good with geography. Considering that most of her life was spent in the ocean, though, she figured she was allowed a slight reprieve.
“How was it like… Ireland. Oh forgive me for my questions I must be annoying you with them.” She then looks down with a slight guilty expression on her face.
Yes. Yes she was.
“Oh! No! Please don’t feel that way!”
To be fair, she wasn’t really being annoying. However, when one was like Tegan, one wasn’t able to hold a conversation for long.
When, once in a blue moon, one like Tegan was able to hold a conversation for long, a feeling of apprehension set in. Tegan was slowly convincing herself that she was going to screw up socially and become an outcast.
And being an outcast in a city you can’t escape?
Not a good idea.
“Ireland was…” Tegan struggled to find the right word. “Perfect.” she stated simply. “I miss it a lot.”
“I see, Well I’m sorry you had to be seperated from your home like that it must be terrible,” she says in a sad tone. She then looks over to Polka and damn it, now that blonde women has her got to her. She was hoping to gain her trust here and now, but it look like not today, no matter good things come to those who wait. She then turns her attention back to Tegan.
“Yeah…” Tegan felt a small smile grace her lips. “I miss it more than I can say…”
Her thoughts immediately went to her family: to her husband and her children. How were they doing? Did they miss her half as much as she missed them? How was Ronan handling suddenly being a single father?
A feeling of determination washed over her anew. She glared at her pint, as though it was the glass’s fault that she was in this city rather than her home.
When she finally looked up, Angela was glaring at the sitar player and pigtail girl.
At least Angela hadn’t noticed that Tegan had zoned out herself.
When Angela turned to face Tegan again, the latter asked “So…h-how about you? Where are you from?” she tried, determined to at least be sociable for a bit before returning home.
Time to move in. The others at the table were engrossed in conversation, and they were looking more easygoing. This was the best chance to get any info they knew of each other. She set the now empty tankard down and waved a little to the barkeep. The woman behind the bar smiled back and went on to another customer. The two had an agreement. When Viola rented a room, it meant she wanted to meet up with the guards tonight. That wave cued the bartender to be ready to make some… arrangements. But for now, she had to act.
The siren lifted the sitar case once more and walked smoothly over to the table with the girls. She leaned on the table, close to the girl with the pigtails. “Hey there, cutie. You missed the performance earlier, but I can always spare a song for a new guest.” She tilted her head slightly, brown eyes seeming to glow with her best charisma. She turned a little so that the other girls were in her sight as well so that they wouldn’t feel totally left out. But she made it clear she was approaching the blonde for the request.
Tegan’s eyebrow rose. That girl was here. The singer/sitar player girl who was playing when she came in.
I guess she was looking at…pigtail girl… Tegan thought, realizing that the other girl had remained completely silent during the entire conversation.
Lucky.
Tegan turned back to Angela, deciding that it wasn’t her place to intrude.
Tegan the Selkie: “It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems…
“It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems she’s not a very social person, and it sees she wasn’t even expecting her to talk to her. But no matter of course play it cool as I have been doing. “Tegan what a interesting name.”
“Um…yes.” Tegan answered. She…
“Oh Ireland, I’ve heard of that place isn’t Ireland somewhere…” Angela stops herself as she notices that Tegan has stopped paying attention to her. She then fixes her eyes over to the younger girl, she is still there and seems occupied inside her mind. She then fixes her eyes back to Tegan and continues her sentence. “Isn’t Ireland somewhere in Europe?
“Ah!” Tegan was thrust back into reality with that question. She found that she had to think about the question for moment before answering. “Oh, yes, yes it is. It’s, um, right off the coast of England.”
She had never been good with geography. Considering that most of her life was spent in the ocean, though, she figured she was allowed a slight reprieve.
“How was it like… Ireland. Oh forgive me for my questions I must be annoying you with them.” She then looks down with a slight guilty expression on her face.
Yes. Yes she was.
“Oh! No! Please don’t feel that way!”
To be fair, she wasn’t really being annoying. However, when one was like Tegan, one wasn’t able to hold a conversation for long.
When, once in a blue moon, one like Tegan was able to hold a conversation for long, a feeling of apprehension set in. Tegan was slowly convincing herself that she was going to screw up socially and become an outcast.
And being an outcast in a city you can’t escape?
Not a good idea.
“Ireland was…” Tegan struggled to find the right word. “Perfect.” she stated simply. “I miss it a lot.”
Tegan the Selkie: “It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems…
“It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems she’s not a very social person, and it sees she wasn’t even expecting her to talk to her. But no matter of course play it cool as I have been doing. “Tegan what a interesting name.”
“Um…yes.” Tegan answered. She…
“Oh Ireland, I’ve heard of that place isn’t Ireland somewhere…” Angela stops herself as she notices that Tegan has stopped paying attention to her. She then fixes her eyes over to the younger girl, she is still there and seems occupied inside her mind. She then fixes her eyes back to Tegan and continues her sentence. “Isn’t Ireland somewhere in Europe?
“Ah!” Tegan was thrust back into reality with that question. She found that she had to think about the question for moment before answering. “Oh, yes, yes it is. It’s, um, right off the coast of England.”
She had never been good with geography. Considering that most of her life was spent in the ocean, though, she figured she was allowed a slight reprieve.
“It’s nice to meet you Tegan,” she says. This girl, Tegan it seems she’s not a very social person, and it sees she wasn’t even expecting her to talk to her. But no matter of course play it cool as I have been doing. “Tegan what a interesting name.”
“Um…yes.” Tegan answered. She wondered why this Angela woman was insistent on speaking to her. However, she was probably only being nice. What was the harm? “It’s Gaelic. I used to live in Ireland.” she explained quickly.
As she accepted her drink, Viola took a discreet peek over her shoulder.
She looked down at her drink, noting silently that her glass was already running low. Perhaps they would be kind enough to save her seat if she offered to buy a round?
She turned to see if the bar was empty enough for her to approach when she saw the sitar player staring at her table. She was being very subtle, and Tegan was frankly surprised that she had noticed her looking at all. Just who was the performer staring at and why?
With Tegan’s interest sufficiently piqued, she turned to face the younger girl and Angela. She said nothing about the sitar player, assuming that it was nothing to worry about. They were in a tavern full of witnesses in the middle of the day, in any case, so nothing too horrible could happen at the moment.
Tegan the Selkie: gorgonsgarden: “Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Polka replied, mentally berating…
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Polka replied, mentally berating herself. Apparently she hadn’t been as good at not making a scene as she’d thought. “I just had a bit of a fight with my…older brother,” she finished hesitantly, momentarily stumped on what to call Frederic. “You know…
Angela wasn’t expecting this. She was hoping to have a small heart to heart with the girl herself. Even though this slightly irritated her, she got to feel the inner feeling of this strange new girl that appeared to her, she could feel sorrow and a feeling of want and desire in her. So maybe she to could fine some use for her. But for now she must act natural and gain their trust for now.
She looks over to the girl that suddenly approached the, her eyes are big and innocent and has silver hair that trails down to her back. She looks at where the girl is looking at and to her dismay she sees a blonde woman with what appears to be a undead servant.
She sneers at the sight of it. Oh how she loathes the undead, in her opinion she sees them as one of the most filthiest beings to walk on this Earth, that and demons of course. Though she would deal with them now, she has more important things to do, and to many witnesses also.
She then sighs an then looks over to the girl that came to sit with them. “Hi I’m Angela, Angela Leblanc, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Tegan started. She should’ve expected to be spoken to, but she wasn’t.
“Oh…um, hello. It’s, um, just lovely to meet you…as well. I’m Tegan. McCrory,” she added at the end. “Tegan McCrory is my name…”
She almost groaned. Ronan had always made fun of the fact that she was terrible at meeting new people.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Polka replied, mentally berating herself. Apparently she hadn’t been as good at not making a scene as she’d thought. “I just had a bit of a fight with my…older brother,” she finished hesitantly, momentarily stumped on what to call Frederic. “You know how it is with siblings,” she said, offering the older girl a smile.
“Pardon,” Tegan began as she approached the table. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is this seat taken?” she asking, motioning to the aforementioned empty chair.
“No,” Polka replied, a little taken aback by so many people approaching her, until she glanced around and noticed how full the bar really was. There were barely any open seats left. Apparently this was going to be a rather sociable session of Hide-from-Frederic. “Please, go ahead.”
“Oh, thank you!” Tegan breathed out in a sigh of relief. Her feet began extolling Tegan the moment she sat down. She took another swig of her drink before truly examining her table-mates.
The younger girl seemed to be the picture of innocence: blonde, pigtails, young, the whole nine yards. However, there was something about her eyes. She couldn’t pick out what exactly set her hair on end, but there was something wrong. Tegan gave up and moved onto the older woman.
Said older woman had short blue-white hair. She seemed to be almost ethereal. She had a sort of calming presence, even if the woman herself seemed a bit worried.
Her eyes drifted from the woman to the other patrons in the bar. She couldn’t see any humans, but, in all honesty, she only could tell the difference if she really concentrated. Since Tegan was simply a selkie, she was sort of a shifter. She jumped between human and seal, but when she was human, she was almost completely human, and the other way around was just as true. All she got in the way of powers was that she was a great swimmer and she could sort of tell the difference between humans and…others.
She saw a blonde woman at a table nearby, who seemed to be ordering a pale undead man about. A necromancer, then.
The performer had moved to the bar, and Tegan idly wondered what was she was, but didn’t really think on it too much.
Tegan put her jacket over back of the chair and settled in. She wasn’t really interested in speaking to these women. She simply wanted a drink (or two), then she would go home and try and come up with another escape plan that didn’t suck.
In the meantime, she would enjoy her beer and try to have a nice time.
“Remember Angela, innocent and gentle” she thinks to herself. She looks down at the girl seeing the girl’s lovely face. She then takes a seat next to her and smiles warmly, “Hi how are you,” she says.
“Fine,” she said, still a little confused as to why this girl had chosen to speak to her. “I just came to listen to the musicians,” she said, noting the girl with the sitar case a little ways away from her in the bar, although she didn’t appear to be playing at the moment. Still, it was a decent alibi, and would keep her from having to consume any food or drink. “How are you?”
With her coat thrown over one arm and her glass in her free hand, Tegan began searching for a free seat.
Everytime she was sure she had found one, another patron would appear (seemingly from nowhere) and take the seat before she could.
Finally, she saw a table almost completely hidden in the corner. At the table, she saw two women—one older and one younger.
They seemed pleasant enough, but, if there was one thing she learned from being a selkie, it was that appearances could be quite deceiving.
However, her feet began their complaints anew, and she decided to take her chances.
Plus, what could really happen to her in a room full of witnesses?
“Pardon,” Tegan began as she approached the table. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is this seat taken?” she asking, motioning to the aforementioned empty chair.
Tegan was used to the cold.
She had lived in Galway.
Next to the ocean.
Tegan was used to the cold.
However, this cold wasn’t so much cold as bone-chilling.
She tightened her coat, hoping to keep the wind from her skeleton (and failing). The sunlight was so that it almost warmed her skin, but a sudden gust would quickly change that, and her teeth would begin to chatter once more.
This walk hadn’t helped at all. She was about to resign herself to her flat, grey, depressing apartment when she noticed a bar.
It was causing a ruckus one wouldn’t expect to hear so early in the morning.
Suddenly, she felt her mouth go dry.
Tegan straightened herself. She was Irish. If there was one thing she had learned, it was how to handle herself in a bar.
She completely ignored the bright white puffs hanging innocently from her pink coat and marched right into the bar with her head held high.
The bar was hot and humid from all the bodies crammed into the smallish space. She squeezed her way through to the bar, shedding her coat quickly.
There was some girl singing, but Tegan paid her no mind. The bartender, however, was mesmerized. Tegan tried to grab his attention, but did not gain it until the song was over. Only then was she able to get her precious drink.
The first sip flowed through her, warming her toes and pasting a small smile on her face.
If the beer is always this good, Tegan thought idly. I might need to come here more often…
Tegan’s spoon pushed the soup around in its bowl. A part of her hadn’t even truly registered that she had food in front of her, but that was beside the point.
How long had she been in this city? Days? Months? Surely not years (though it felt a bit like eternity).
Ever since arriving, the days had all merged into one unending grey blur for the selkie.
At home, every day was vibrant and unforgettable, bright and colorful in some special way.
Tegan placed the spoon next to her bowl and got up from the table. It wasn’t like she was really hungry, anyway. She was more…restless.
She didn’t know what was worse: losing her family or losing her skin. When she was home, she could almost forget how the sea called to her. When she was home, she was near her ocean.
Here was a grey, bustling metropolis, where the air was coated with all sorts of putrid smells, miles from a body of water. It only made her itch more for her skin, for her freedom.
She sighed as she grabbed her coat. At home, a walk always cleared her mind. She doubted it would help much, but at least she would be doing something. She opened the door and walked into the desaturated sunlight.
