7619/Three traditions walk into a bar. Ouch.

Three traditions walk into a bar. Ouch.
Date of Scene:	31 August 2021
Location:	Tir na Nog (Bar)
Synopsis:	Intriguing meeting of three traditions causes consternation and intrigue in equal measures.
Cast of Characters:	Killian Quinn, Satana Hellstrom, Saeko

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Killian Quinn has posed:
Tir Na Nog is the classy sort of place that you might go for an expensive trivia night or on a fancy first date, from lunch to after dark. After dark, the place gets a lot packed and a little wild. A proper Irish pub with rich, dark woods and an eccentric floor of light slate stones and burnt whiskey-barrel wood.

Entering through its stately and heavy double-doors would land you at the host station; the bar is long and colored honey-oak, lined with red-topped stools of dark wood and stands to the left. The mirrors behind the bar afford a look at the liqours and cordials set up for selection, and above the mirror stylized dragons and creatures are twisted, rendered in wood relief, placed between maps of Ireland and the fabled Tir Na Nog itself. Industrial lights over the bar provide light to the patrons there.

There are a couple of high-tops along the edge of what could be a dance floor, or performance space, and then behind dark rails more traditional tables and booths stand, done up in the same dark-stained wood and with comfortable red-cloth seats.

There is a fieldstone fireplace, fed by a gas line, to one side for that 'cozy' feel.

Upstairs there is a small function room for much larger parties, and a secondary bar. The same dark wood with arched doorways and carved reliefs carries on up here, though the floor is all that burnt whiskey barrel wood.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"This looks like a decent place. It claims to be a proper Irish place. Which means four dentists from Cleveland own it and they've put up "rustic" decorations painted green or something, right?"

Yes. Even demons can get cynical.

Wait, check that. They probably encourage cynicism. That's how you get souls to fall, after all. You remove hope from them.

Satana glances at Saeko.

Keeps glancing a moment with a certain hunger in her eyes.

"Wanna go in?" she asks, after shaking the thoughts out of her head. "I could do with a few sips. And maybe a drink or ten."

Saeko has posed:
"I am not so versed in American real estate and design," Saeko speaks, the dark-haired woman in her human guise lacking none of her true form's natural beauty. "Although, I seem to find similar appears to be the case when it comes to many of the 'Authentic' places serving food from Japan."

Nodding to the offer for to enter, the Kitsune gives a little chuckle and shrugs her shoulders. "No sense in abandoning a night to bordom."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
As her eyes adjust to the muted lighting of the place, Satana stops a moment to take stock.

"Not dentists," she says. "Investment bankers. With way too much money." She practically shivers as she continues, adding, "Investment bankers are the absolute best. They think they know the way of the world and practically fall into your arms. I need to meet the owners. We're running a little short on stock for Mammon's quislings. I grab a few investment bankers and present their souls to him and he owes me."

Slight grin, predatory in nature.

"And he always pays his debts. One of the few things he can be trusted to do."

She continues then, deeper into the den of alcoholic iniquity, drawing eyes with her expensive, yet oh-so-cheap attire. Too expensive to be a street walker. but dressed to make one of them blush and say 'whoah, that's a bit far, sister!'

"What's your poison? Don't worry about the price. Someone else will be paying." She picks a person at the bar who looks like he has money in his pocket. "Him, to be specific."

Mind warping powers begin as the man looks into her eyes. "You'll buy us our drinks tonight," she asks, "won't you sugar?"

Killian Quinn has posed:
It's just about time that the Tir begins switching over from 'nice date territory' into 'this place is packed'. It's not quite there yet, but the tables are full, the bar's packed a few deep and a lot of the empty floor space is taken by bodies. A jukebox in the corner blares 'Prisoner's Song' by the Dropkick Murphy's.

It's a completely different atmosphere than daytime hours. That open space may even go true mosh before the night's over.

Killian is behind the bar, where he can be found most nights at this hour. He's dancing, literally, from customer to customer with a lopsided grin that brings a dimple to his left cheek. Bottles are tossed, twirling up and up to be caught before a pour's made, shaken drinks are shaken to the frantic beat of Celtic Punk, between mixing or pouring, air drums become a thing. When he has the chance, he pauses here and there to have a brief little 'hello, how's it going' with this regular or that.

Ladies, it's the bartender in his natural environment, he makes it look effortless.

Saeko has posed:
Relying on providence via her powers usually meant luck provided for Saeko when she went out drinking, but having a succubus with you when you go to a bar helped!

The disguised fox woman wasn't dressed quite as revealing as Satana, her deep red shirt with a plunging neckline paired with a black skirt and slim leather jacket was clearly intended to draw the eye just a little more as she made her way up to the bar.

Gaze sweeping the patrons, the apparent young woman claims a spot and gestures to try and draw Killian's attention.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Using her charms both mystical and physical to get the man to pay was trivial. It just took a bit of concentration to bend his (rather flacid) will and things were done. Of course, in fairness, rewards apply and Satana gives him a taste of those by leaning against him so close the two are practically bonded.

That this keeps the enchantment alive without further concentration is just a bonus, naturally...

Now able to concentrate on her surroundings she starts to raise her hand to the bartender to call them over, stopping for two reasons.

One: Saeko had already done so, thus the gesture was redundant.

Two: The demoness freezes in place and staaaaaaaaaaaaaaares at the bartender.

"His aura!" she hisses quietly to the fox spirit. "Be wary!"

Killian Quinn has posed:
    Killian holds up one finger toward Saeko. It's not an impolite gesture at all, it's more the universal language between bartenders and patrons when the music's loud enough to drown out words from a distance 'you're on my radar, be there in a sec'. It's a promise that.

And it's one he makes good on as soon as he's slid the glass of perfectly headed Murphy's Stout in front of someone and collects the man's money.

One could never tell that he's been in the States for near on twenty years when he speaks, "What'll it be, lass?!" His brogue, even with so little spoken, sounds like he just stepped through a portal; from Belfast for anyone that's more familiar with the varied accents even within the one country.

Much like the willow that grows for him in Robinson park, Killian may be swayed and bent a little by the feeling of being so close to a demon - ess or not - but he's not broken enough by it to let on. Big brown eyes flicker between the poor sod leaning so close to Satana and the two women.

Two and two in his world generally equals four. The weird feeling Satana gives him, the one reason he knows is a cause of that feeling and a poor idiot that looks all the world like something's missing... some kind of vampire, that's his initial thought on the matter.

"Maybe the two of ye'd be more comfortable upstairs, where it's a wee bit more private, aye?" His voice, it's like someone speaking in ribbons of silk that, is pitched just so to be heard by them over the music.

...I don't give a fuck what you do, just don't do it *at* my bar. That's what those words and those big browns are saying.

Saeko has posed:
If Saeko could sense the difference in Killian, she didn't give any outward sound or sign. Indeed only a little quirk of her lips comes at Satana's warning and she lazily leans her hip against the bar, apparently left to wait.

At least it wasn't too long!

When finally served, the spirit tilts her head to the side, one finger coming to tap at her lips in thought before shrugging her shoulders. "Something sweet to start?" she questions, a glance towards Satana and her new friend before there's a little blink to the feeling of that voice from the tender. Familier, as smooth and entrancing of her own. Interesting.

"Suprise me..."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"Oh, I like being seen!" Satana says with a smile that's as broad as ... a ... completely broad thing ... comparable to a smile ... in some way. So the writer sucks at simile. Sue her!

Of course the way she's dressed it's pretty obvious what she says is the literal truth. Anybody dressing the way she does wants to be seen.

"I'll have a bottle of your top shelf bourbon," she decides. "I'll split it with my newfound friend here."

She gestures at her arm candy holder who nods in eager agreement.

"He's paying for all three of us."

Even more eager agreement.

"Will there be dancing later? I do so want to feel someone's body against mine tonight."

The smile is warm. Inviting. Friendly. Until the gaze reaches the black eyes with the red highlights. Those are stone cold and calculating. Assessing. Categorizing.

Then Satana drops her gaze and grabs a cigarette, lighting it with her finger.

"This is a smoking pub, right?" she asks. After lighting up.

Killian Quinn has posed:
Killian reaches up to put two fingers between his lips for a LOUD whistle. That's all it takes and the bouncer now in place at the door turns. The bartender doesn't point to the women though, he points to the man. Signal received and read: Put this one in a cab and send him home.

"Not down here," Killian repeats. "Top shelf here is over a grand a bottle, lass. And he's not payin'. They have the same shite upstairs." The something 'sweet' is served up in short order, but it might not be what's expected. Saeko, welcome to the perfect Potion D'Amour, a lovely blend of TYKU Black Sake, blackberry puree, and Lillet Blanc; shaken not stirred, stained and garnished with a rose petal.

Someone cues Drunken Lullabies on the Jukebox and the gathered masses whistle and cheer. 'Kill-i-an', becomes the chant of the drunken.

"That's me cue," he tells them both before bowing at the waist and hopping gracefully *onto* the bar.

Saeko has posed:
There's a blink how quickly Satana finds herself without her companion, Saeko actually giving a little mock-pout if only for how quickly her friend's game was ruined. Seems she'll have to pay more traditionally.

The drink taken, a 'love potion' for the Kitsune to sip at and offer a little soft noise of approval. Tasty. A turn of her head, the fox blinks a little a the tender climbs up onto the bar, folding her arms under her bust and leaning back to watch the show apparently about to start.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana's eyes are also drawn to the tender, but not out of being impressed. Indeed there's a momentary baleful red glow before she gets that back under control. Her gaze loses its steel and she shrugs. Easy come, easy go.

"I'll still have the bottle. I just won't be sharing."

And that, as they say, is that. Her playmate removed, Satana leans against Saeko instead and watches, ready for the upcoming show.

Killian Quinn has posed:
It starts with just a tap of his foot to the slower intro. Killian adds the clap of his hands and the entire bar is clapping with him. When the beat picks up, the show really starts.

It's somewhere between a traditional Irish jig and something much more exotic than that that follows. Booted feet stomp a plenty, but he puts the all of him into it. Sometimes his hands are over his head, sometimes at his sides, sometimes he's clapping, sometimes fingers snapping. He makes his way up and down that bar without a care in the world and without spilling a single drink should someone fail to move theirs.

With every round of the chorus, he lifts his hands to encourage everyone to sing along and they all do, to a person, save perhaps Saeko and Satana.

It's about half the way through that anyone with the sense for it can feel it, faerie magic slipping over him, around him, through him, out of him. When he raises his hands above his head to clap again, little sparks fly with each smack of his hands together. When he holds them up and out to his sides, little balls of light form in his palms to dance there like multi-colored fireflies. Nothing more than a magician's trick to those that can't sense it, some sort of chemicals on his hands or some such. A show that has the crowd cheering and stomping and clapping right along with him.

For those that CAN sense it, or even see it, damn but that lad GLOWS. His energy is wild, untamed, fierce, intoxicating, like a storm brewing on a summer's night after a warm and sunny day - unpredictable in a way that's almost dangerous

... and laced with something more than just the obvious, something untapped for the most part and still filled with the wildness of nature. Druid magic, it's sort of a signature thing, unique to those that have felt it before.

At the end of the song, he takes a bow before hopping backwards off the bar and sliding into his role as tender once again.

Saeko has posed:
Entracement, music filling the space intoxicating and ensorcelling the other patrons. Saeko could only assume such magics when the do not touch her, she'd used the same thing herself or at least similar in the past....and that energy was oh-so-similar to her own, yet different enough to be foreign and curious.

Tilting her head to the side, the Kitsune glances sidelong at Satana, leaning into the contact and giggling softly.

"Well, at least a night out with you is never boring Satana. We always seem to encounter the most interesting things..."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"I do have a knack for pulling the weirdos out, don't I?" Satana says with a wicked grin. "Half-vampires. Demons. Fox spirits." Saeko gets a pinch at her hip from the arm encircling it. "And now ..."

Her eyes turn to Killian. Assessing. Her left hand works a few gestures under the bar's line of sight as she murmurs some random syllables to herself.

"... fey, if I would have to take a guess. Or fey-adjascent." She snorts and looks around the bar. "Fucking Irish."

Killian Quinn has posed:
After the crowd's cheering dies down, the bar itself becomes even more crowded, people standing four and five deep waiting to be served. Most of them seem to want to be served by the Dancing Irishman himself. Method to his madness isn't there? Dance a little dance, put on a little show and likely quadrupled his earnings for the night, maybe more than that. Saeko and Satana never go without drinks, served by yours truly. In fact, he's keeping as close an eye as he can on the pair as he dance steps his way from one person to the next, filling drinks, grinning, offer wink where one's due and will do the most damage to a pocket book spilling tips.

But Killian does, eventually, take a break. When he does, he hops over the bar, using one hand palm flat on it to vault himself across. Once he's across, he'll work his way through the crowd and to the stairs that lead up, likely where he was indicating Satana should go if she wanted to do her thing in this place.

Smoke break of his own, out of the press of the crowd and maybe a drink or seven of his own before its over.

Saeko has posed:
"Come now," the vixen purs back, a little grin on her lips as she takes another sip of her 'Love Potion'. Lowering the drink, the woman makes to stand and gently claims Satana's hand, drawing her with her. "If I hadn't approached curious beings and energies out of curiousity, we would never have met...and I'd probably still be trying to cut the noise of those cultists."

Seems she's intending to head Killian's way, Saeko being either curious or unconcerned about the risks in dealing with fae.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"That thing is interesting enough," Satana opines to her foxy friend, "that I think I want to get to know it better."

It. Not him. She's got him pegged as some kind of spirit for now. Well, that and he ruined her fun and she's still miffed.

"Let's get up there and party. But ... just in case..."

A quick gust of wind pairs with a different arm gesture. A wind that momentarily carries with it the strong scent of brimstone, blowing first away from, then toward the demoness. A baleful red aura surrounds her briefly, before being absorbed into her so quickly that witnesses might question if it was just a strange reflection off some light source.

"... Let's not go play without protection." She ahems and speaks in a vague facsimile of ad-over voice. "The Risk is Not Knowing."

That sparks a full-body giggle as she slithers up the stairs alongside her foxy friend.

"I loved AIDS campaigns. They were so earnestly idiotic!"

Killian Quinn has posed:
It's dark upstairs, quieter than down, not a soul in sight once Saeko and Satana make it up there. Not immediately anyway. Not until eyes adjust. It didn't take Killian long now did it? There, against the far wall. His back's to them. In front of him, pinned against the wall, is a pretty little blonde. When Killian 'feels' that quivering 'yuck' in the pit of his stomach, his head drops back, separating his lips from hers, brown eyes focused heavenward, "I'm a wee bit busy lass, can this wait?" Oh what a little *dog*.

Smoke break, riiiiiight. "Wait for me downstairs, aye?" He tells the little blonde and away she goes, ducking past the other two women with an embarrassed smile.

Killian turns, arms crossed over his chest and leans against the wall. That little lopsided grin, left dimple showing.

The Prodigals ~ Black-Eyed Gypsy filters up from downstairs. It seems appropriate, doesn't it.

Saeko has posed:
"I think I was...elsewhere for that one," Saeko muses at the mention of the campaigns with a shake of her head. Spending a few centuries away as a break was perfectly normal for the Amatsu-kami after all!

There was no spell about Saeko aside from her disguise, but to those that could sense such things the young woman was a walking bundle of magic, life and chaotic chance personified, a divine spirit...and she seemed perfectly comfortable here.

Stepping up, she does actually hang back at the stairs, quite aware they'd interupted something and offering a quiet giggle to herself with a hand infront of her lips.

"Ooops."

Elegant and eloquent as always.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana's reaction is more to the point: fistbump the girl on the way back with a lascivious wink. "Up for a threesome later?" she asks, with a wicked grin as the girl moves past the pair. Then a nudge in Saeko's ribs. "Or foursome even?"

She fingerguns the girl and chuckles on entry to the upstairs portion.

"Nice gig you got there, brother. How much of her did you get?"

Satana's eyes stray to the stairs. "Not sure I'd have the control not to take it all. She's a sweet young thing isn't she?" The eyes turn once more to Killian. "Two floor shows in one night. A bottle of bourbon. My best girl. And you. That's the known unknown here. I'm guessing some kind of fae?"

The voice is blandly pleasant. The body language oozes, as it does with her most of the time, even when threatening people with eternal torment, raw sexuality. The eyes ... intrigue. And a readiness for action...in whatever form it may take.

"This foxy girl here..." For some reason this sparks amusement in her face. "...is Saeko, my best friend for girls' nights out. I'm Satana. You are..."

She flashes a meaningful glance to the stairs again.

"...a bit quick. Hopefully when you're not working it lasts longer?"

Killian Quinn has posed:
The little blonde, all pert nose and wherever else she should be thus, glances in Killian's direction as if to question whether or not *he's* up to it later. "Wasn't even started yet, got interrupted, wonder who coulda done all that?" Killian replies, still leaning against the wall, arms still crossed - it's not a defensive posture. It's more casual, relaxed.

"Didn't get anything from her, woulda been a right bang on shag." Little pissed about that maybe? "Name's Killian, most call me Killi... some Kil..." He glances over his shoulder toward the little balcony next to the wall he's holding up and mentions, "I would say it's a pleasure, but ye did interrupt me shag, aye?"

He lets out a put upon sigh, one of the ages that. Big browns roll slightly heavenward. "Was there somethin' else ye wanted?"

Saeko has posed:
Introduced as she was and still chuckling at the antics with the wayward missed shag prospect, Saeko moves forwards and folds her arms behind her back, a little lean that might brush up against the lines of public space. Her eyes move over the man, curious and seeming to see deeper than they probably should before she straightens up with a little exhaled breath and a little chuckle.

"Wanted? No. I was simply curious. You are something new to me after all."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"You were so earnest about us going upstairs, I figured it was because you wanted to hook up," Satana says instead. "Did we err?"

The look of innocence is well-practiced, fitting like a well-worn glove.

"I mean, if we erred, no harm, no foul. I'm easy." She pauses and artfully blushes in a manifestly artificial way. "That came out all wrong."

Body language and mannerisms are lies, however. It's the eyes that give it away. And the eyes are simultaneously wary and predatory.

"You didn't answer my question earlier, though."

Taking a step away from Saeko to keep her out of range, Satana is suddenly wreathed in flames that smell of brimstone instead of her usual cinnamon scent.

"I am Satana Hellstrom, Satan's daughter. And I'm genuinely curious what you are. You've got the smell of fae about you, so ... is that what you are? Or something adjacent like the nature freaks?"

Killian Quinn has posed:
From below, someone cues up Rose Tattoo by the Dropkick Murphys. The chanting of his name begins again. Killian bows at the waist, winks as he straightens again and counters with, "I'm an Irish lad from a far away land. I hear a bar carries its name, aye?" Not a lie that.

Then he pivots, takes the two or so steps needed to get him out to that small balcony and whistles long and loud, two fingers to his lips again. By the time he leaps over the small railing, the floor beneath is cleared for him to land safely. It's not a huge drop, eight feet tops. He hits the ground in a crouch and straightens. When he does, the crowd circles around him and the third show of the night begins.

It's the same as the bar, that strange mixture of traditional Irish dance and something more modern and exotic. This time, however, he pulls women from the crowd into the circle with him, one at a time, for a quick spin and then on to the next... hell there's even a man or two in the mix. Each pulled in shoves bills into the front of his jeans, left to stick out there without him ever taking *anything* off. As before, the crowd goes absolutely wild for it, more bills litter the floor around him and his tips are sure to increase yet again. Like than not, he'll pocket more in this one night than most poor sods do in a week, perhaps a month.

Once the song's over, if Satana and Saeko are watching from that balcony, he places both hands to his lips and blows an exaggerated double kiss in their direction before taking his place behind the bar once more.