How strange to return to New Babbage after an extended absence. But, as sometimes happens, when one runs off to join with scoundrel pirates, you find that yes, you *can* come home again, even if it is a reconnisance/amusement jaunt with your fellow scoundrels.
But when one finds their toes resting on Babbage soil, toes that have grown deep roots before, they do find it so very easy to send whisps of tendrils back down into oilsoaked ground. Hearing the cheers and hoots of familiar voices, in a place of both revelry and mayhem, as so suits their hearts… it sounded like home.
Well of course it did. Babbage is home. Always was. Always will be. No matter where I roam.
Now then….. *taps fingernails on a streetside wall* What to do about it?
(freeform roleplay encouraged! So, say you saw Ceejay standing by the wall, tapping her fingernails. What goes through your mind? Do you speak to her, or do you keep on walking? Bring it.)
Bianca shooed the little monkey back to The Bucket as she rounded the corner, almost running into the woman who was leaning against the wall she halted quickly. “Oh! Didn’t know anyone was still around here…Sorry miss, I’m locking the gate. Events over.”
Ceejay quickly stuffed the application further down in her pocket and smiled brightly at the woman. “It was a good event! I hope the contestants aren’t too battered. How bravely they fought.” Ceejay’s smile was evident as she spoke, the evening had been pleasant in ways beyond the boxing matches she’d watched.
She eyed the lovely woman a moment, trying not to stare any longer than might be polite. “My name’s Ceejay, and perhaps I’ll see you around town again. I need to regain my bearings, walk the cobblestones, see what is new. I’ve been away.”
With the smallest hint of a curtsey, Ceejay softly said “Goodnight” and turned on a well-worn heel to see what the north end of the city was up to these days.
Bianca watched with jutted jaw at the womans curious behavoir upon leaving. Shrugging slightly, she smiled to herself as she closed and locked the gate. Her thoughts fogged over by the evenings previous matches and sighed to herself aloud, “It is nice to see New Babbage can be eventful again…”
Bookworm listened, with more avidity than she showed, to Mariah Lanfier’s account of the boxing matches that evening. Given the current situation between herself and Miss Namori, she hadn’t thought it appropriate to go there, but she was as curious as the next person about the results.
“I rather thought Mr. Holmes would win,” she said with satisfaction. “And it sounds like Dr. Watson acquitted himself well. I’m glad.”
She also perked up her ears when Mariah mentioned that Miss Ceejay had been there. “So she’s back in town, is she? I should invite her over for coffee–I’ve not seen her for such a long time. I wonder where she’s staying…”
((Out of character note – I am totally unsure of where Ceejay is staying. Probably just making daytrips to town for the time being, but that’s open to change, as interactions sway her thoughts. I’m sure she’ll think of the CocoaJava as a haven for resting, though.))
((I can just send a note by carrier urchin. They can find ya. *grin*))
((I trust Urchin Express more than the postal service.))
grins at the thought … Whole new Meaning .. to “Oh Get a ROOM” *grins* and quietly twirls …..welcome back ! welcome back !! Welcome Home !!!
((Thank you! Ceejay returning is a work in progress, but I wish it to be an enjoyable, unhurried, organic thing. I’m as interested as anyone how she will take this!!))
Sera stops and watches Ceejay for a few minutes. “Whatever is she doing? Hatching a nefarious plan? Testing an unsound wall? Waiting for someone dark and good looking?”
Unable to restrain herself any further, Sera runs to Ceejay and gives her a big hug, slightly scaring Ceejay in the process. “Good to see you, sweetie! Oh, do you need to breathe? Er, sorry.”
Embarrassed, Sera steps back and fumbles with her pockets.
Ceejay giggled as she caught her breath and patted her hair back into place (a futile thing, her hair always seemed permanently off on its own mission).
“Sera, it’s really good to see a familiar face! And just as self-confident as ever, I see!” Ceejay playfully grasped her old friends wrists and lifted her hands from her pockets. “I have so much to catch up on! Where’s one go these days to get a strong drink and overhear the good gossip? Ah….. I suspect you wouldn’t know – you always were sweeter than this old city knew what to do with!”
is that woman ever sober? look at her there, tapping on the walls…
*tap tap tap tap KER-THUNK*
“Harumph.” Ceejay glared at the brick that barely missed her boots. She tapped on the mortar surrounding the hole that until extremely recently contained a brick. “Seems solid enough. Odd.” She bent down and peered in, hoping a spider wouldn’t be peering back. Luckily, no critters emerged, but the hole went a lot deeper than a brick needed. And something back in there was catching a glint of Babbage’s feeble sunlight. She made a face and reached in, being a curious sort.
The brass box wasn’t ornate, in fact it was quite flimsy and held no lock. Ceejay gently lifted the lid… and smiled. A tin airship pirate, shiny marbles, three Tenker coins and two paper wrapped pieces of candy lay inside.
She tucked the box back in its hole and carefully replaced the brick, making sure it was pushed in well. “Urchins and their comforts.” She wandered off towards the port, whistling.
Underby strolled past the woman clearly lost in thought, as he walked out from City Hall. He passed by her, noting her face for further use, then stopped. He knew that face.
“Miss Writer?” he asked. “Really it has been too long since I have seen the face of the first person in town who had the courage to speak to me… when I looked… less presentable than I do at present. Back in town to stay?”
“Why, Mister Underby – it’s a surprise to see you still here!” Ceejay immediately regretted her tactless wording and hastily added, “I mean, well, entertainers like you usually move from town to town, looking for fresh audiences.” In spite of his still-strange appearance, Ceejay had always thought Underby to be an interesting sort, and well skilled at his carnie tricks. The fact that New Babbage hadn’t yet chased him off meant that either they hadn’t caught on to his various sleight-of-hands and mastery of the power of suggestion, or else he’d somehow endeared himself to the locals, she surmised. Either he was more likeable than she knew, or Babbagers had gotten exceedingly dense. Either answer could prove amusing.
“Well, I couldn’t stay away, it seems, and I’m enjoying getting re-acquainted with the place. A lot has changed, hasn’t it? I have a little cottage in another town, but I’ll admit, it’s tempting to take a little place again. I miss the sounds of the factories at night. They help me sleep.”
((OOC for those who don’t recall Ceejay’s previous assumptions about Underby. She’s convinced he’s a traveling confidence artist who uses showbiz skills to dazzle his audiences and loosen their purse strings. She doesn’t believe the wild stories she’s heard about him from obviously hysterical folk.!))
As Miss Writer stands, tapping nervously for the umpteen millionth time on the brick wall, she sees a peculiar thing, which is saying something, given this is New Babbage. The smog in front of her slowly begins to collect into an amorphous cloud a few feet above the ground. The cloud begins to grow and grow until…
The form of a dreadlocked individual wearing a brown bowler and long brown overcoat steps from the mysterious cloud. He gathers his footing, brushes some dirt from his jacket, and turns around, apparently seeing the woman for the first time.
“Good day Miss,” he says as he tips his cap at the woman. She sees that his eyes seem to give off a forboding luminescent green hue in the shadows. “I have lost something of great value, and I am sure that it has ended up somewhere in the city. I am checking some of the more ‘out-of-the-way’ nooks and crannies. You haven’t seem anything, errr…. out of place have you?
Ceejay tilted her head at the apparition that appeared before her, momentarly confused. “I um, uh, wait, what?”
And then she noticed the glowing green eyes. Must be a sign of her advancing age – the green fairies from the land of Absinthe had never looked quite like this one. She sighed, not remembering when her last drink was but apparently it hadn’t been long ago.
“Try Loki’s Absinthe, down on the canals. I expect it’s still there, some places never change. Whatever you’re looking for, I expect it’ll be similar to something there.”
Ceejay chuckled and wandered on down the road. “Talking to your visions now, are you Ceejay? Silly girl.”
*walks up to Ceejay and gives her a big hug*
“You know that rabbit that took over your old cafe? He’s evil and his coffee is bitter, and he’s forced me to sell his coffee in my Hotel!”
*looks at Ceejays legs…*
…”what was i saying again?”
*in a smushy voice from somewhere inside a hug* Viiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiictor!
Now wait a minute. You’re trying to tell me that Blackberry’s serving bitter coffee? I don’t care about the evil stuff, lets focus on what’s important! The coffee is BITTER? And why on earth are you selling Bitter Bunny Brew in your hotel?
Oh, and Viiiiiiictor? My eyes are up HERE. *points to them*
looks up and ponders .. Is that really:
that adorable bunny Thump-er trying to stir da Pot ..
Grins to ” you selling *Bitter Bunny Brew* in your hotel?__”