April 1, 2003

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World's End Bar..

Sylvie says "Mmm, well, we weren't exactly having the hottest of conversations at the time..."

Despil appears suddenly.

Yosannah agrees with Sylvie, "Touche." She smiles at Despil and points at her watch, "You shouldn't keep a person waiting."

Despil looks at his watch. "I'm early." He sits down at the table under the balcony. "Tell you what, to make it up, I'll buy you a drink."

"I think that's the standard line in your family. And always applied in this bar. I'm on to you."

Sylvie ahhhs. "Your date?"

Despil says "We can go somewhere else." He looks over to Sylvie and says, "I'm more of a fig, I think."

Sylvie waves cheerily at Despil. "H'lo. Fig? As in Newton?"

Despil waves. "I think so, but I'm more of a Choco Leibniz man, myself."

Yosannah rests an elbow on the bartop, seemingly very interested in the 'fig' conversation.

Sylvie ahs. "Hm, haven't tried those, myself. Snickerdoodle's my thing."

Yosannah asks, "You two know each other?"

Despil shakes his head. "No."

Sylvie shakes her head. "Don't think we've met, no. So?"

Yosannah offers, "Well, Syl. This is my good friend, Dworkin. Dworkin, say hello to the nice lady."

Sylvie ahs, bowing. "A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Despil stands and bows back, low, with a flourish and says, "Hello, nice lady."

Yosannah looks to Despil, "Now, Dworkin, where's my drink?"

"You haven't told me what you're drinking -- unless I get to pick." Despil chuckkles evilly.

Yosannah smiles lightly, getting more serious now. She waves a hand, "Your choice."

At your table, Despil says "What's happening, Yo?"

At your table, Yosannah offers, "Not much happening since I last saw you." And then, sarcastically, "You missed a great party in Avalon."

At your table, Despil says "Did I? Who was there?" He orders a two manhattans. The bartender hands it to a server who takes it to table under the balcony and sets it before him.

At your table, Yosannah says "Nobody of any significance." She takes note of his order, recalling something as she does so."

At your table, Despil says "Sorry about that. I thought you were going to call me."

At your table, Yosannah says "Oh?" She reaches into her pocket and pulls forth a small mish mash of cards, "Let's see.. With this one? Nooo." She thumbs through them some more, "Maybe this one... No, that's my dead mother." She tucks them back into her jacket pocket.

At your table, Despil gets out his cards and looks through his. He thumbs you one.

Yosannah reaches across the table to a terot in Despil's hand. She pauses before taking it, "You sure you want to hand this out?" She studies him coyly, "Risky business."

At your table, Despil says "Are you a risk?"

At your table, Yosannah holds one end of the card as he holds the other, "If you have to ask..." She moves as if to tug the card from his hand.

At your table, Despil says "I'll give you one of yourself, as well."

At your table, Yosannah's hand lingers over the table, his trump pressed between her forefinger and her thumb, "I don't need one of myself, Despil." She flips the card over her fingers.

At your table, Despil says "Then you could probably draw one of me, yourself."

At your table, Yosannah inhales deeply and exhales, "I'd have to have an artist's skill to do that."

At your table, Despil says "Ah. I see."

At your table, Yosannah examines the likeness of him on the face of the card, "Self portrait?" she asks.

At your table, Despil says "It is. You can tell because it's a mirror image."

At your table, Yosannah holds the trump up as if trying to get a better look at it next to him. "Hmm." She lowers it and asks, "And who should I make sure does not get a hold of," she points at the card with a finger from her free hand, "this?"

At your table, Despil says "Anyone other than you, my dear."

At your table, Yosannah says "Ahh, but you know what I'm asking. No need to be so coy."

At your table, Despil says "The main people I'd rather not have trumps of me have their own mechanisms. So no, I don't know what you're asking."

At your table, Yosannah says "Fair enough. When I'm not prepared because some whacko is looking for a trump of you..." She shrugs and, finally, slides the card into her pocket, "Oh well."

At your table, Despil says "My dear friend, that is for you and you alone. Whackos or sane people. They're welcome to ask me for it."

She lifts her dink to her lips.

At your table, Yosannah says "The sorts of whackos I'm talking about aren't the kinds that are going to stroll up to your door and ask all nice like." She gulps at the drink.

At your table, Despil says "Which sorts are you talking about?" He drinks some of his drink.

At your table, Yosannah drawls, "Bad sorts. Sorts that have it out for you. Don't tell me you're the one Chaosian who is friends with everyone and has no enemies."

At your table, Despil laughs. He looks and says, "I'm that one."

Yosannah sets her glass on the table and rests her hand over it, "Bullshit."

At your table, Despil laughs and laughs. Between laughs he says, "No, really. There has to be one, doesn't there? Why not me?"

At your table, Yosannah is doubtful, "The better question is -why- you."

At your table, Despil says "I won the lottery."

At your table, Yosannah is apparently intrigued, "No, seriously."

At your table, Despil says "Why are you so interested about that? Good enemies are hard to find and are to be cherished."

At your table, Yosannah shakes her head,"No. I mean. Why are you so liked? I mean... I don't mean to suggest that I think there is a reason not to, I don't know you well enough." She rambles a bit at that, "That's just extemely rare in this world."

At your table, Despil sips his drink and says, "Go on."

At your table, Yosannah says "Well, based on what I know of your family, nobody much trusts anybody else. Yet you don't have a bad word to say about anyone? Is that what you're saying?"

At your table, Despil says "It's true, we're all more than a bit wary of each other."

At your table, Yosannah nods, insistantly, "I'd say so... But not you?"

At your table, Despil laughs some more. "Oh, I'm wary of them, of course I am."

At your table, Yosannah says "All of them. Or some more so then others."

At your table, Despil says "Definitely some more than others."

At your table, Yosannah ahhhs, "Now we're get'n somewhere... Okay. For example?"

At your table, Despil says "My brother, Mandor, for one."

At your table, Yosannah nods, "Uh hu..." She finishes her drink and begins to poke around the ice-cubes in effort to fish out the cherry.

At your table, Despil drinks his drink and says, "But as I said, good enemies are to be cherished."

At your table, Yosannah humphs, frowning. Just as quickly however she quips up, "Ah ha." She holds up the cherry.

At your table, Despil smiles. "There are people I work to thwart, as well, but I'm not sure I call them enemies."

At your table, Yosannah says "We're going to need a bottle of bourbon, I'm going to need a lift home, and you're going to have to tell me all about it." She pops the cherry in her mouth.

At your table, Despil says "All right."

At your table, Yosannah says "You're -so- easy. I adore that."

At your table, Despil grins and says, "That's so kind of you to say."

At your table, Yosannah moves to slide out of the booth, "You love it."

At your table, Despil slips out as well. "We'll have to see."