New Orleans w/Jason

[mogget_cat]

From the bar, the two of them step out into the humid, New Orleans night. The clouds cover the stars and moon, leaving it up to the streetlamps to cast light upon the people who are out and about this evening.

There's the scent of rain in the air. Rain, and the scents of people, cheap hot dogs, alcohol, and the underlying scent of the city, always there.

"It's not far. Just a few blocks over," Yrael says as she looks out at Bourbon St.

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[mogget_cat]

"Gentlemen, could I bother you terribly? There are not enough seats for my friends!" Bianca says behind Jason, followed quickly by the sounds of chairs moving and people rising.

The table is neatly emptied, but for the quietest of the men who had been seeking Bianca's attentions. He lingers for a little while, trying to get up the nerve to say something to her, express his admiration of her and wonderment at her voice, but he is unable to get himself to speak before giving in to the impulse to vacate his spot at the table.

Wik smirks at Jason, stubbing out her cigarette into an ashtray. "My great-aunt taught me when I was little. She could be heard over half a mile a way." The last of her drink is swallowed before she gets to her feet. "Sure. Lay on, MacDuff."