Oh No He Di'n't... Did He?

[rassafraggin]

IC Time: Mar 23, 2523 - 06:59:04

Lee prowls into the area along the sidelanes, bumping shoulders with the rabble in his careless haste, maneuverability hampered by the weight of a travel bag and instrument case slung one over each shoulder. A restless night has stamped shadow patches on the flesh around his eyes, contributing to the sullen, dissatisfied glances he tosses along the sights of the thoroughfare.

Vondye is sitting outside a noodle stand, slurping up the last of his meal. Tossing the container it came in away, he hands the vendor some credits. Adjusting the hat on his head, he turns his attention to the crowd at the docks, eyes raking it as if searching for something. "Evr'uns in a gorram hurry," he comments aloud, grumbling.

The young man's progress is abruptly halted when his shoulder socks into something which reacts with zero give. "Ouw! Damn it," Lee grunts in the midst of rebounding off the brickhouse merc gorilla, who in turn pauses before him with a questioning brow raised. "Nothing to see, move along," the youth snaps crossly, even as he realizes the folly of snarking at such folk.

Kirsten comes into view, running, pounding seemingly effortlessly through the spaceport, her long loping strides taking her towards the noodle stand. She looks as though she could keep this up all day, but slows to a jog and then a walk, slipping her earbuds out of her ears as she starts to cool off. Lee gets a curious look, as though she may have seen him somewhere before but isn't entirely sure when or where.

The running young woman is given a cursory glance, but as she slows, Von returns to watching the crowds. Even with a few beers in him, Von's perception of trouble is sharp. He recognizes the young man, and witnesses the collision with the merc. But he doesn't move into the crowd. He stays where he is, still watching, though he hooks his thumbs in his belt loops, close to his weapons.

The big veteran pauses to feel at the inner pockets of his pea-green army jacket, at first suspecting the boy of some sort of knavery. Makes sense, considering that a seemingly innocent collision in crowded conditions is a favoured gambit of pickpockets. But since Lee didn't do anything of the sort, all is well... except. It isn't. The merc rather ponderously finishes his baggage check, then breaks into a scowl. "/Bei Bi Shiou Ren/ - ya'll chose the wrong gorram bastard for this Mi Tian Gohn... now y'get alla two secs t'give it back."

THe little commotion between Lee and the big merc keeps Kirsten's attention. She wanders a little closer, still breathing steadily from the run. One hand comes up to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand and the crook of her arm, the other wanders behind her back to casually unfasten her fanny pack with a hiss of zip. She glances at the merc, then back to Lee.

Lee just stares uncomprehendingly for the two precious seconds he's been granted. Then he casts a semi-wild glance down into his empty hands, as if unsure what he might find in one or both of them. Nope, they really are empty. So he quite righteously gives the man a blank look and gasps an exasperated "...What??"

Vondye tilts his head, debating. "Get mah hands bloody?" he says to himself, then shakes his head. "Ruttin' 'ell, sensa heroics, shoot." Von walks slowly through the crowd, not wanting the merc to hear him coming up. Though that really wasn't hard in the dock's crowd. All that drinking just made Von paranoid. He stops behind the merc, clears his throat so that it's obvious he's interrupting. "The 'ell's goin' on ere?"

"Credit roll, little thief." The growling man towers over Lee, and by bonus coincidence of flood light placement, casts an intimidating, if slightly diluted, shadow over him as well. Like a zipper opening, the flow of pedestrian traffic immediately puts a buffer of space between themselves and the unexpected confrontation. "Give't here, or by Buddha I'll wring it outta yer limp carcass." He doesn't have to shout his threats... years of experience have taught him that the gravelly hiss of his Quiet Voice is more effective by far.

Kirsten tilts her head slightly, regarding the impending carnage with a crooked frown that furrows her brow. She shakes her head slightly, glancing around in the hope that an Alliance patrol would be in sight. Right when you need a policeman, there isn't one. "Easy there," she says to nobody in particular, stepping into the buffer of space so it's clear she's part of this.

Lee finally has the good sense to feel rather endangered by this development. "I... didn't take it. I don't... have it," he falters a bit, still feeling irrationally uncertain of himself. The guy's missing some money. /Some/one must have it... could it be Lee? "Listen, I don't even have enough cred on me to make up a good tiddlywinks match, much less a whole good gorram /roll/!" Conviction enters his voice. Conviction is what's needed to quell this situation. His eyes whip briefly over to spot Vondye coming up behind the merc, and it's that more than Vondye's inquiry that prompts the bigger man to peer over his shoulder.

Vondye looks over at the blonde woman when she speaks, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Ah don't think this un," he gestures at the merc, "is gonna back down without force, sweetheart." He moves the sid of his coat back in a subtle gesture, so that all, including the merc, can see the weapon strapped to his back and the large knife at his belt. "Ya know, I suddenly have a hankerin' for liver," he comments loudly, grinning. "Maybe some kidneys. And a heart." The grin widens, nearly splitting his face.

"Don't need yer help, Shorty. Back offa me," the merc warns.

Kirsten's eyes flicker between the other three participants. "There's no need for bloodletting," she says, her voice rising enough to carry clearly. "Mister, maybe you lost your roll elsewhere. What the hell's tiddlywinks?" Conviction, or maybe distraction.

Vondye's grin instantly becomes a scowl. but he doesn't draw a weapon "I think it's ya who needs to back off," he says to the large man. His eyes flicker towards the woman again. "I think you'd best be listenin' to her. Thissa big crowd out 'ere. I suggest retracin' ya steps." Von's muscles are rigid, as if he's restraining hismelf from lashing out.

The merc now turns again to note Kirsten on his other side, and quickly looks the athletic young lady up and down. "Ain't in the habit of /losing/ a hundred bleedin' credits, Sister," he points out with subdued anger. That his tone changes somewhat for her speaks to either a soft spot for the ladies, or a recognition of something authoritative in Kirsten's voice and bearing. For Vondye however, the merc offers this while he turns away from Lee to face the rather mouthy fellow: "Now now, Shorty. Flashin' yer sharp edges at me carries a weighty fine on it's own.. almost as much as pinching my cred." For all of that fine proud nerve, however, the man's grimace does carry a note of wariness. "Turn out yer pockets, boy," he abruptly orders towards Lee. "Iffin I gotta be.... /retracin'/, as yer little hero says... I'm still startin' with /you/."

Kirsten's comm unit, tucked in her pack, gives a loud squeal of static followed by a garbled voice. Her eyes widen as she starts to make a grab for it, then realizes that grabbing for something out of sight is maybe not the best of moves, her motion turning into a flinch. There's more radio chatter; the comm unit seems to be tuned to a military channel, and Kirsten lets out a Bad Word under her breath as she, too, tenses.

Lee has been standing as quiet as a mouse while the others debate the point, apparently on his behalf. The sudden show of 'support' from Kirsten and Vondye startles him anew. The order from the simmering merc causes a pained look to settle on his fatigued features, and he hesitates, then ends up casting a questioning glance from Kristen to Vondye, communicating half "Aw, do I gotta?" and half "Hey team, we can take 'im!" with his blue eyes.

Drop rockets fire on a sharp looking Luxury yacht.. top of the line.. painted a deep grey with purple lining. However, as the ship comes into better view, it isn't the paint job that makes it stick out. It's the blatant (and infamous) custom Jolly Roger of the Pirate's Commonwealth.

Moments after the ship makes berth on the tarmac, the ramp is lowering slowly.. and standing at the top of the ramp are two forms. Both rather recognizable, but one moreso then the other. Viscious armor with flowing purple cape, eyepatch, and dreadlocks to match.. that can belong to only one man: Admiral Frost. Standing at his side is once renowned secondhand of the commonwealth, Captain Nolan. Becoming first off the ship, Frost begins to make his way down the ramp, half looking to the side as he addresses his accomplice, "Ah needed tah pick up me earnin's from Gus anyways. Been ah bloody hot minute since ah made it out this way.." of course, it had also been a hot minute since he was even supposedly alive.

Vondye stares at the man, still scowling. And then the laughter begins. Quiet at first, then louder, growing thin and strained. There's gleam to his eyes that's rather off, and he puts himself deliberately between Lee and the merc as he sobers. "Don't give ah good gorram about ya fines. Ya can take 'em and shove 'em up ya ruttin' arse." Von looks over his shoulder at the sound of the incoming yacht, distracted for a moment, and when he turns back to the merc, the laughter creeps quietly back. "Boy ain't turnin; out his pockets. Ya gonna turn around and ya gonna pretent ain't nuttin' happen. Or m'gonan loose my temper and gut ya."

Nolan is indeed far lesser known than the infamous Admiral Frost, but there are some advantages to that, as some present company may now be coming to find out, seeing Nolan standing with, and talking to, Admiral Frost in a simple manner. "Aye, met up with him a few days ago. He was still sore about that time I supposedly burned his bar down," he says, shaking his head softly. "He didnt reject my money, though," he says with a chuckle, looking about the docks to see how many headturns the pair of men are getting.

The merc, currently in the middle of a three person triangle, has chosen to rest the majority of his wary attention on Vondye of The Big-Ass Knife. Which means Kirsten's flinch towards the source of the radio chatter goes unnoticed. She could even make some rude gestures at the guy and get away with it. The man meantime looks taken aback by Vondye's.. aherm.. negotiation.. and says incredulously, losing some deadly cool, "Jao Gao, if ya'll ain't the pair o' Guay Toh Guay Nown! We're talkin' a hunnert creds here!" He at this point does turn his glance towards Kirsten. Sure, she's just some gal, but if Lee gets a champion, he should have someone sympathetic to /his/ concerns too! "If the little squirt's so gorram broke, he should have no gorram problem, showing his linty pocketeses."

Kirsten's attention is on the semi-standoff that she's somewhat entangled in, and so the dramatic arrival of the infamous Admiral Frost and his retinue completely slips under her radar. "Pocketeses?" she repeats incredulously, finally reaching a hand into her pack to turn down the incriminating radio. She keeps her hand there, looking somewhat like she's scratching her ass. Well, reaching for a gun can look like that, if the gun happens to be in her fannypack. (...silence. I keel you now.) The radio chatter falls to a subdued murmur. "You're kowng-juh duh! [crazy], all of you. Just gorram walk away."

"He's not ah fuggin' fool, mate. If he doesn' accept yer credits, how can he expect to be payin' me, when ah come around, eh?" Frost asks Nolan, in what would appear to be the most casual of conversation. The Admiral begins to walk away from the Yacht.. pressing something on the utility belt at his waist once he and Nolan have cleared the ramp. Whatever it is he hit causes the ramp to begin raising in their wake. The arrival of the 'Pirate King' does not go unnoticed by the general public, although a good majority of them go out of their way to make it seem like it did. The crowd begins to part for the pair as they stroll through the docks, creating a hole so that the pair can continue forward without much in the way of delay.. save for the occasional vendor that still tries to pawn off their wares on the pirates. Hell, they do have families to feed.. and pirates of the Commonwealth were known to.. well.. have money.

[EVENT] Eavesdown Docks grows less noisy for a moment before picking up in a slurry of hushed voices, all saying the same thing. "Admiral Frost"

Lee's drawn complexion darkens ruddily at the references to his impoverished state. Okay, so he mentioned it first, but it was humiliating enough the first time. "Right. I'm a squirt, you're a ruttin' /planet/, it'd be /suicide/ to touch you for coins. I /ain't/ /got'em/, /Sir/!" Whee, it's so much easier to say all that from behind a knife-wielding maniac like Vondye. Lee's eyes seek Kirsten, also trying to place that pert face. Ahah!

The offended merc reluctantly shushes his own loud grumbles, his focus fragmenting as word of Frost's presence reaches the area of this particular knot of bystanders. He casts a distracted glare at Vondye and Lee, then shifts to one side of Kirsten to gaze over the bobbing sea of heads for a moment. "I'll be doggamned," he dyslexifies.

Nolan grins before nodding to Frost, "Well, he had plenty of patrons in there. People love the place - good place to keep an eye out for anyone of interest," he says with a nod, his eyes moving across the docks, acting as both conversation pal and bodyguard to the Admiral. Anyone approaching with the wrong look seems likely to run into Nolan before they would get to Frost. The softening of the noise on the docks catches Nolan's attention as he gives a grin at the response.

Vondye licks his teeth, still grinning like a mad fool. He turns that grin on the young woman. "I ain't goin' nowhere till he turns his back and leaves the boy alone, hunned creds or no," he protests stubbornly. He steps even closer to the merc, his fingers flexing as he looks up at the much larger man. He hadn't drawn the knife /yet/, fingers reaching for it now. Under his breath he mutters a constant stream of words, and from the corner of his eye he notices the parting crowds. This time he gives more then a cursory glance, as the hush falls upon the docks. His fingers hesitate on the hilt of the knife, and he follows the merc's glance, finally realizing the reason for the distraction. But he doesn't react at all, eyes glazed.

Who needs rumours and hushed whispers and parting crowds when you have an uncanny ability to be where you don't want to at all the wrong times? That was Zale's philosophy, and it's never failed him yet. Not that it matters much. He walks leisurely out of the shipyard yet wearing his usual, humming to himself and evidently completely indifferent as he hadn't heard the 'news' yet. So he, rather than stopping to see what the fuss is about, turns to move deliberately for the nearest vendor of more-or-less edible chunks of meat.

"'Frost?'" the allegedly pert Kirsten repeats dumbly. As if it may be a trick by the merc or possibly Vondye, or even Lee, to distract them all. She takes a precautionary step away from everyone as she looks around for the source of the uber-distraction. "'Admiral' Frost?" She puts as much contempt as she can into the honorific. "He's not dumb enough to come /here/."

NoNoNo. Frost was definatly dumb enough to come /here/. The fact that he was still strolling through the crowd that was parting for him like he was Moses facing off the Red Sea. "Good..." the pirate responds to Nolan. "..that old spce-dog needs tah keep 'imself busy." the quiet that rolls over the crowd doesn't see to effect Frost in the least.. in the past few years it was something he had grown accustomed to when in crowded areas.. of course, this was the first time it had occured because he had 'risen from the dead'.. but nonetheless, he continues on.. buisness as usual. The pair (Nolan and Frost) appear heading in the direction of the spacer's district, and as the Admiral's eye rolls over the crowd, it does pause on the little gathering around the Merc. It was a bit out of the ordinary.. normally when someone is walled in, it means there is a potential for a brawl.. and a potential brawl means potential bloodshed. Frost did so enjoy bloodshed, exspecially other peoples.

Lee almost offers a knee-jerk, "Hey, that's Mr. Grayes with him," upon spying the two crowd-parting 'dignitaries'. Instead, since he went and bit his tongue at the last minute, something more like, "Heyyyyyyy....?" comes out. Dragging his regard away and downwards, he takes sudden notice of Vondye's stalking of the merc, and jerks himself into motion, dogging the shorter man's steps and going to put a hand on his shoulder. "General, just the bloke I was hoping t'run into here," he ventures in an undertone, hoping to get Vondye to stop harassing the obviously preoccupied erstwhile accuser.

Nolan is still generally amused by the entire thing. News has probably spread over quite a distance by this time. A look is given towards the Admiral and he chuckles about the comment regarding Gus, the bartender of The Dregs Bar and Grill. As Frost looks over towards the gathering, Nolan follows the Admiral's look, scanning over the people there. "That girl, I know her. Only...not seen her in plain clothes. Typically in Alliance Battledress," he says. "One behind the guy is Lee - spoke with him the other day. Gotta speak with him again, as it turns out," he says, eyes looking at the man from a distance. "Not sure on the others," he states simply.

From the Spacers District another begins to enter onto the Eavesdown Docks. The attention is not present at the crowd looming around, rather a interesting little bobblehead of none other than Frost himself within her grasp. Free hand continues to flick at its head sending it to bob. "Magnet t' find the real one me arse. Fuckin' liers.", murmured beneath Nysacire's breath. "Damn ting's broken." Cue the shaking rapidly of the bobblehead to the point that it would be in sudden shaken syndrome or something medical like that if it was alive. Not quite watching where she is going, the blonde continues to drift forward until coming to a sudden halt. "Y'damn ting.. Work!" Then with another flick to the head, the Bobblehead's message emits through the hidden microphone within it.

Suddenly, Bobblehead Frost shouts, "Yer a fuggin' dolphin dick!" ...and elsewhere, an angel bursts into flames.

The merc wanders along in Kirsten's wake, almost bumping her in turn since she doesn't actually go too far. "Careful, Sister. He's here, sure as we are. Don't go runnin' off th'mouth." Aww, he's gonna /protect/ her. Sweet guy, really. Unfortunate about those creds. <English>

Vondye comes out of his daze, remembering that the merc was still prsent. And distracted with the other woman. Easy target. The knife slides from the shetah at his belt, that strange smile starts to appear again, and-- "General?" Von asks, eyebrows drawing together as he looks down at Lee, the would-be stabbing fogotten. His memory kicks his ass, then, as he realizes he's being addressed. "Oh, 'er, thas me, right. Heya, Lee, whatcha doin' round these parts." Von's demeanor changes entirely, the knife sitll held awkwardly in his hand.

Kirsten's head whips round to glower at the merc, but as he's turned from bullish antagonist to knight in shining armor, her gaze softens and she relaxes a minute amount. Her hand slips from out of her pack, this time clutching her radio. "General..." she mutters, shaking her head slightly. She gives the merc a small, tight smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll bear that in mind, mister. Appreciate the warning." She lifts the radio to her mouth to talk. "Temperance, E-3 O'Dowd."

Even if Zale wasn't terribly worried about pirates at the moment, Nysacire's bobblehead shouts off behind him and he winces, turning around from the vendor he had chosen, (Rat Free Meat is its ominous name) and glaring some in that direction. "Oi, put that thing away... Yer gonna scare tha hell outta someone." A bit of news is heard then, from the owner of the stall, the man essentially whispering in Zale's ear. Zale blinks a few times, eyes focusing on the distance at that point for a moment. "Whattaya mean Frost is here?" He's not quite willing to turn his back on Nysacire, evidently, but he does cant his head to listen to the man behind him. "Oh..."

As Nolan begins to give him the rundown on whom he knows and from where, Frost begins to nod. "Well, Cap'n.. if ye decide ye need tah be handlin' ah spot ah buisness on this rock, move it to tha Dreggs." the pirate's hands fall to rest casually on the weapons that rest on either hip, PLAIN AS DAY. Illegal Starshot on the right. Cutlass on the left.. and it's likely illegal too. Realizing the other group was begining to take intrest in him and Nolan, a twisted smirk forms on the Admiral's scarred and cleft lips. "Ah think they recognized ye, Cap'n. Ye marked?" he asks the man suddenly as he gives everyone in the group a hardcore 'once-over', checking them out. "Ah hope not. Ah want me ah drink, n' havin' tah commit multiple counts ah murder tends tah take time.. in this case, Rum drinkin' time." he shakes his head, dreadlocks flipping from shoulder to shoulder. "Unacceptable."

As the young pilot saunters onto the docs, she seems determined and with a flask in one hand, a rather large sandwich wrap contraption in the other, she weaves her way through the busy docks. The hustle and bustle seems to fall on deaf ears as Celise spies the Tattoo parlor and grins. "Ahha. Right where he said it was." Taking another swig of her flask, she tucks it away into her backpack before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Nolan shakes his head, "No, Admiral," he says simply. "No trouble with any of them, just seen em around," he says. He gives a nod at the other words, "Aye, Admiral. Wouldnt interfere with that time," he states. He isnt an idiot, by any means. Cross Frost? How cold is hell this time of year? A glance is given as he hears the familiar bobblehead voice, and upon spotting Nysa, gives a simple nod.

"I... well see, it's been some gorram night... the day before that was even worse... and, uh..." Lee starts, his eyes rolling to the side quizzically at the Mini-Frost voice squealing over the general hush. Slightly longer pause, then the boy decides to just keep on with his own business with Vondye. "...Just that, couple nights ago you mentioned a space in your shuttle. A quiet space? I'm just 'bout dead on my feet," he admits wanly.

Zynab slids into the docks all cool like among the rest of the jumbled people. Her attention focused on a bit of string that she is fiddling with, and making little designs. A bit of dried blood coats almost the entirty of her hand as she plays a singles game of 'cat's cradle' Directing her steps towards a stack of crates, Zy steps tp the slightly less populated section of the docks.

"Oh, now yah speak! Fuggin' as bad as the re-" Those words are suddenly cut short as the eyes drift from the bobblehead and onto the fleshy dreadlocked head man of which the bobblehead is modeled after. The colour drains slightly from her face as if she's seen a ghost, remaining in dead silence for a couple long moments until words are murmured, "Me fuckin' gawd, it wasn't ah lie." A skeptical glance is passed down onto the Mini-Frost, then back up to the real thing. Nysacire's eyes narrow as they finally withdraw to look over to Nolan. The simple nod addressed to her is returned with one of her own. Shifting a bit uncomfortably within her stance, another glance is passed over the various faces that linger upon the docks then back down on the 'up and down 'motion of her eyes from mini-frost to big-frost.

Kirsten, her radio held to her face, is holding a muttered conversation with someone. She's staring towards the bulk of the Artful Dodger, and takes a few steps to one side to get a clearer view of the Jolly Roger emblazoned on the side, lifting her other hand to shield against the sodium glare of the dock lights. "Pitbull, confirm ship is a luxury yacht, grey and purple paintjob, bay four. Can't read the name from here."

As she doesn't seem to have noticed anyway, Zale allows himself to relax slightly from the most recent threat he bought upon himself, and follows Nysacire's gaze as he had been watching her. (Looking up and down over and over was a generally curious thing to do!) "Oh, great." He's less than enthusiastic to see Frost, but other than that he reveals no reaction, just turning to take his food, and then turning back to watch the goings on cautiously.

Vondye puts the knife slowly back into the sheath at his belt. "Ain't no fun." he mutters. His eyes dart to what was going down at the docks with boobleheads and Frost and the like, but his tone is nothing but calm and unphased as he continues to speak with Lee. "No work about, eh?" he asks the boy. "Well, course the offer's still good. Wouldn't want for ya to starve or freeze out 'ere. Times is tough." Von reaches in his pocket, taking out a minature bottle of Bourbon. he opens it and downs it in one gulp.

Gallant Sir Merc, still shadowing Kirsten, will never know how close he came this morning to losing a kidney. Because he's already lost his heart! "Musta left the roll on my bunk in my other pants, come t'think of't," he muses whimsically while gazing upon the stern woman and her cute little radio, then, slowly, like a tower of stupid ivory bricks crumbling into the sea, he realizes out loud, "Oh Wong Ba Duhn she's ruttin' Nien Mohn..."

Eyeing the Tattoo parlor, poor Celise is quickly losing her nerve. She steps closer, weaving through ships and people and offers a friendly smile to those she passes. Celise's dimpled smile and air of innocence puts her sorely out of place amung the crowd assembled here this day.. well.. at least from the looks of them from what she can tell. Stopping near the shop, she simply stares at the door a long while as a silent war of to tattoo or not to tattoo wages in her head.

If looks could kill, poor Gallant Sir Merc would be a red smear on the concrete apron. Kirsten flashes him an icy glare, wrapping up all of her own uncertainty and mounting fear, then starts to walk away to flank the Artful Dodger, where she can get a look at the painted name and where she can get away from the town crier in shining armor that's just rumbled her.

Lee nods slowly at Vondye's remarks, but admits reluctantly, "There's work, just not the sort I'm good for." He eyes the resheathed knife for a moment of belated realization then, which does not inspire his confidence in the course of action he's taking. "It's just for the next night... two nights, at most. If I don't get more sleep in me, the whole day's belly up. So..." He glances around again, taking stock of the current situation on the docks, then shrugs his shoulders to indicate the baggage he's lugging.

"Ain't a problem. Ya can stay as long as ya need. Hell, maybe I can pull sum strings, git ya a job some're. Sum folks round the 'verse, they know my name. Ah swear to heavenly buddha." Tall order, but Von smiles reassuringly. He continues to scan the port, noticing the girl by the Branded tattoo parlor not far off. He gives a loud whistle, not missing the opportunity to demonstrate his crassness. "Sometimes, the docks do indeed have ah lovely view," he comments to no one inparticular.

Zynab keeps her attention mainly focused on the bit of red string in her hand. Trying tgo shift a tower like design into a ladder. "damn" she mutters as she makes a mistake, and instead of a pretty little ladder.... Zy make a giant tangled string. Brilliant. Shaking her head she begins the mindless task of working the knot out of the string so she can start her little game over again. she worked dilligantly on her darling little string.

Nolan moves off from Frost, then, heading over towards Lee, stopping a bit short of the man before giving him a nod. A glance is given to Kirsten, but nothing is said to her before he looks back towards Lee. "Remember what we talked about? Well, now you know what the offer is, so consider it. Send me a wave, or come meet me in the Dregs whenever you come to a decision," he says simply. He seems to ignore anyone else talking to Lee, just throwing his offer out before moving off up the street towards the Dregs Bar and Grill.

Kirsten, still talking in her radio, keeps walking further and further away from everyone, disappearing eventually into the bustling crowds of the Eavesdown docks.

The 'up and down' game comes to a cease as her attention span is limited and thus it turns back onto one of the very familiar face of Nolan. Tick.. Tock.. Tick.. Tock. Then, she's turning upon her heels as the man nears close to her direction, beginning to follow like a little lost puppy dog. Nysacire lifts the bobblehead upwards as she takes a few quick steps to send it to hit faintly on Nolan's back, prompting it to do another speel..

Suddenly, Bobblehead Frost shouts, "Where'd the rum go!?" ...and elsewhere, an angel is eaten by reavers.

Lee sags a bit more obviously under the weight of his travel bag and strapped case, then appears to summon some extra fortitude from some mental pocket. A chance at safety and solitude has more-or-less been secured from the slightly deranged, knife-loving man. Er. Lee tries not to think about it, really. But all things considered, he's willing to be patient. The attention-grabbing whistle directs his gaze along the path of Vondye's viewpoint, settling on indecisive Celise as well, just around the time when Nolan is passing close by. So Lee is made to visibly jump in place when the trenchcoated man' speaks from so nearby. Unable to come up with a suitable reply to his words, the young man just sags again, this time dropping his travelbag and sitting down hard on it. "Jing Chai," he mumbles.

The loud whistle startles Celise some what making her neck swivel a bit and her gaze turn just a hint sharp as she glances about. Landing on Vondye and Lee, sort of guessing they were the source.. though not sure as to which one. But as they were the closest to her, her answer is a slight flush creeping up from her neck to her cheeks before turning sharply about and eyeing that door once more. "I don't think I am drunk enough yet.." Murmuring to the door for surely it can hear her.

Vondye has his ear trained to the quick conversation between Nolan and Lee, even though he's still looking at the girl in front of the tattoo parlor, and when it's over he offers a cryptic, "Be wary, boy. My kinda crazy's tame compared to some of these folk proper sitionin' ya." Von continues to watch the girl's hesitancy , and finally calls out loud enough for her to hear, "Ah, just go in already, love. It don't hurt." He pauses to laugh. "Much."

Nolan is hit by the Bobblehead, which calls out for rum. How very timely of it! A look is then given back towards Lee and Vondye before the man continues up the street. True, not as many people move out of the way for Nolan, but that doesnt seem to bother him. Eyes are kept sharp as he meanders up the street, finally fading around a bend.

From his drastically lowered vantage point, Lee can't track Nolan's movements worth monkey poo. All he knows is the man has gone. He settles gingerly atop his bag, bringing his instrument case around to cradle in his lap, and peers up from under his brows at Vondye. "Y'don't have to do any swearin' to Buddha for me t'believe you on that score," he mutters just loud enough to be heard by the man. Then, seeming to brush aside all those pesky worries, he goes back to looking over at the victim of Vondye's insensitive encouragements. "Really depends where y'get it though," he adds his own somewhat hoarse call to the fray. "I hear it's a pain'n the bum!"

Celise heard that yes she did. A small sigh is given and she simply turns away from the door giving Vondye a some what akward smile. Rocking a bit on the heel of her boots, she gives both boys a tilted glance of her eyes. "I will if you will?" A brow slightly lifts; and to hopefully entise... adding a dimpled smile to the proposal.

"Now, it's only ah pain in the bum if ya git it /on/ ya bum," Von comments back to Lee. The corners of his mouth tilt up in a grin. He raises an eyebrow back at the girl, and scratches at his goatee. "Escortin' ya will cost ya some coin," he says, but his tone seems to be on the joking side. "Usually. But m'feelin' generous. How 'bout it, Lee? Ya wanna help out?" Von chuckles deeply.

Lee smiles at Celise in return, easily, but makes no move towards getting up at this point in time, short of being smacked by a passing MULE. "Dunno General," he admits, only half-joking himself as he continues, "I'm awful tuckered. If I fell sound asleep in there, y'gotta promise I won't be waking up lookin' like that lewd mural that's painted all on that cathouse in the slums."

Celise's lips twitch. "Oh I don't need company. I am sayin.. I'll get one if you get one. I was bet 20 creds that I'd lose my nerve at the last moment. And.. it seems to be working out in the other persons' favor. Now, I don't fancy bein out 20 creds.. But mebbe if I see another get one first, I might not feel so woozy 'bout it?" Suddenly as it dawns on her, a hand comes up to scratch at the back of her head. "celise Porter by the way."

Vondye looks the boy over, then grabs him by the shoulder, steadying him as the MULE has a near miss. "Yeah, ya are lookin' ready to collapse." He grimaces. "Ya can go up in the shuttle, if ya like. It's open." Turning to the woman, he shrugs out of his jacket, showing off the tattoo on his neck. "Reassurin' enough?" he asks with a smirk, then introduces himself as well. "Vondye. Or just plain Von."

"I'm Lee," he offers simply. "Ni How, Celise." After giving the current situation some further thought, Lee shakes his head a bit, and starts to collect himself. "Yeah. Guess I will go." He raises out of his seated position, once again reaching a height acceptable for marking a destination past the morning sea of busyness. His two pieces of carry-on luggage go slinging up over his shoulders again. With a last wave, he departs through the pedestrian stream.

Celise studdies the tattoo closely for a moment before shaking her head slowly. "Nope.. You oculda got that drunk off your arse and not remembered til later. I'm mostly sober here. I'm thinkin someone needs to get one and then when I am sure they don't pass out from the pain, then I don't mind gettin one. See what I mean?" Lee is flashed a sympathetic smile. "You look like I felt bout two months ago.. and mebbe a solid week's sleep is the ticket."