mogget_cat | OOM: Open-Mic 2

Yrael and Teja step through the door and out into a deserted alleyway in New Orleans. It's evening, here, around eight o'clock with the sun just having fully set. The people in the street before them haven't noticed them yet.

"All right... to find a clothing shop."

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"You'll see," he says, still grinning.

Soon enough, their order comes. Two cups of strong coffee with cream (there's a container of sugar on the table, in case one wants it), and a plate stacked with golden puffy pastries mounded with a fine powdered sugar, light enough that breathing near them induces a cloud of white dust.

"Why would one put loose flour..." Teja begins, picking up his.

Oh!

"'S not flour. It's sugar," Yrael chuckles at the resulting sugar cloud.

And its lovely dusting of the Goth's black hair and attire.

When he picks up his, he taps it against the plate to get most of the excess off.

"Oh!" Teja says, trying to dust the sugar off himself.

He looks much less black than usual at the moment.

The two girls at their table giggle hysterically.

Yrael bites into his beignet, making an 'mmmm' kind of purring sound.

Carefully and slowly, Teja eats his; and drinks his coffee.

It is actually very pleasant, for coffee.

It's a smooth coffee, robust but not too strong, and not weak at all.

There are two each, on the plate. They're good, but too much sweetness at once kind of ruins the experience, Yrael feels.

Teja eats his; it goes very well with the coffee.

It is not too much, just right -- but he still feels somewhat sticky from the cloud of powdered sugar.

And both of them are kind of... covered in powdered sugar. There is no neat way to eat them.

The girls at their table glance and giggle.

Yrael grins at Teja, moving to stand. "I'll take our plate and throw it away," he says, picking up the plate covered in excess powdered sugar.

As he does so, something tickles his nose, causing him to sneeze loudly. A huge cloud of sugar erupts into the air from the plate, coating the girls' blouses and hair in a generous dusting of white.

They do not laugh now -- on the contrary, they squeal!

Teja doesn't laugh, either; he never does. But his eyes meet Yrael's with approval.

Yrael murmurs a soft, insincere apology as he moves to throw away the paper plate.

"Ready to go?" he smirks as he returns to Teja.

"Indeed, I am," Teja says, nodding farewell to the two non-giggling young women.

He is not quite sugar-free yet, but for that, there will be wash-basins, and a fresh t-shirt.

Indeed there will be. Luckily for Yrael, the sugar doesn't stand out nearly as much.

He is still, however, licking his fingers. Some things transcend shapechanges.

"It's just a few blocks, now. We can change when we get there."

It really doesn't take long to reach the rather nice-looking bar. Not nearly as nice as Milliways, in Yrael's opinion, but it's all right. The light is low, but for the well-lit stage area.

Teja looks around, interested.

"This will not hold such a large audience," he says, "but then, why should you wish to play to crowds? I never did! Where may I change?"

Yrael grins sideways at Teja. "Because I intend to make a name for myself."

Teja was certainly well-known in his day, if for a different reason.

"And my music is meant to be shared. It does better with someone to hear it."

At Teja's last question, though, Yrael looks around. "There, there are restrooms where we can change."

"My music just is -- it is the same if I sit by my own fireplace, or down in the bar where people are listening in. But I do not, usually, play for an audience. I fell out of the habit during our long wars," Teja says.

Then he nods, and vanishes to the restrooms with his bagged t-shirt. When he returns, he is wearing it, and has cleaned the sugar off his hands, face, and even hair (mostly).

Yrael goes to change as well, though the shirt he was wearing is no longer anywhere to be seen.

"Now I need to find Jack, make sure he knows I'm here, and see the order of performance."

"I might get drinks in the meanwhile?" Teja suggests.

"Sure. Order whatever sounds good," he says. "I'm willing to try something new."

He bumps Teja on the shoulder and wanders off towards a man with a clipboard near the stage.

Teja wanders to the bar, enquires about what is customary to drink here, and then approaches Yrael with two Mint Juleps in his hands.

Yrael is chatting with the man who must be Jack, grinning and nodding. With a word of farewell, he turns back to Teja.

Only to recoil slightly at the drink.

"Um."

"Oh - you do not like these?" Teja says, at Yrael's reaction. "I asked, and was told they were customary."

"Do you know what kind of mint is in it?"

Very important question.

He's not coming near it.

"No," Teja says, puzzled. "One would assume it is the normal mint they normally use? Does mint give you rashes?"

That makes him laugh. "No. No rashes. Some types of mint, however, cause something near insanity in me and other catlike creatures."

"I would rather not miss my performance because I had the urge to see what the brilliant colors of the ceiling tasted like."

The ceiling, it must be noted, is a matte black.

Edited Date: 2008-04-09 06:11 pm (UTC)