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 Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2008 8:54 pm
There where perks to aristocratic status, and though the Pulsipher were not entirely official nobility or any sort, their family legacy did leave doors open that would be otherwise locked to those that shared their wealth. Anthony was always thankful for fame of his grandfather, who even after death had somehow managed to ensure they remained with enough pride to keep their head up despite unconfirmed gossip that floated his family. Despite everything, he also had to take into considering that his father’s past years in the service did help boost their status, but it was also one that could potentially drag it into the dirt if plans hadn’t been taken into effect to do damage control and even then, Anthony had to check his words to make sure proof of anything slipped his lips. Luckily, years of practice did him well, to the point that he didn’t feel as apprehensive when he first entered his first gentleman’s club. By now, he had long since established himself as the head of the Pulispher family, of a respectable career and nature, to the point that the nagging inquires regarding his family that had first been thrown upon him when he was younger had long since died down to the point of only a few whispers darting about to ‘fill in’ the newest recruits.
After a few years, he had found the gentleman clubs such as the Lavender House a sort of male sanctuary from his female dominate household. There where realms women and men both found havens in and when he had free time, he made it a point to venture back to the club, making his rounds, an appearance, and catching up on the news, which had to be his greatest interest.
In the clubs, merchants, scholars, and soldiers all intermingled and traded news from their sources and with the aid of comfortable chairs, a good tobacco, and a strong drink, even confidential information was disclosed.
In need of an update and thirsty for a hard drink, male interaction, and the vulgarities that he found both disgusting and amusing, he entered the Lavender House. It was around dinner time and he could hear the dings of dinner conversation from several rooms away. Having already eaten, Anthony went into the smoker’s lounge and found that the crimson armchair was open, a item that was fought over with the same vigor by the men here as they would for a beautiful woman.
After preparing a drink and dropping a few cubes of ice, Anthony deflated into the chair, rubbing the wooden armrest of the chair with one hand as if it was a faithful horse and friend while he took a sip from his preferred poison with the other, letting the taste burn down his throat. He’d wait for the dinners to flood in and catch up on old and new news.
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Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2008 9:06 pm
Taka strode into the room purposefully and walked over to the liquor cabinet to make himself a drink. He poured himself a glass of bourbon, on the rocks and walked past the armchair Anthony was currently sitting in. He seated himself in one very much like the other Koshka's own. He took a large drink and sighed contentedly as the amber liquid warmed him through and through.
He slipped out his pocket watch and took note of the time. He had left his pipe at home, damnit! It figured.
He had matters to attend to anyway. He had yet to catch wind of what everyone was saying about his brother's recent accident. Of course, he would play the sympathetic bystander and feign being broken up over the incident.
Naturally.
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Posted: Thu Jul 24, 2008 9:39 pm
Anthony’s ears perked long before the black-haired Koshka peeled open his eyes to take notice. When he did, he watched a very elegantly dressed man walked without even glancing to the liquor cabinet, pouring a drink he instinctively grabbed. From the directness he walked into the room, he guessed the stranger wasn’t having a good day to require a hard drink so urgently. Watching, the stranger walked over to a chair and collapsed into it, leaning back and drinking a hearty sip from the crystal glass with an air of deep satisfaction. He was also mindful of the man checking his watch. Either the man was waiting for someone or was on a tight schedule. It was a common habit for some, though most learned that you had to devote some time if you came to the club as you didn’t know what long debate you would be pulled in or who would come in and drag you off to dinner or to accompany them to some duty they had to attend to.
The man was clearly older and having more Koshka attributes (Anthony noted the more pronounced claws as he held the glass), he knew he had a higher social standing among the Koshka here (it was primarily a Koshka club here, though no one would say they discriminated. They would just ‘suggest’ you to find a better place to go to).
Listening to the chatter muffled several rooms away; he looked at the stranger and offered a smile. “Terrible afternoon we’re having. The weather hasn’t been helpful in any way.” He said with a small wave in the direction of the ceiling as if the clouds outside roamed overhead. It was a start up and a offer for a conversation. They would quickly direct what they wanted to know in the social dance that happened often in high society.
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Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2008 8:31 am
Taka glanced to the lad and nodded. "Yes, but then again, this is England. If it's one thing we've got a lot of, it's dreary weather." He said, wondering why the lad was commenting on the weather when it rained most of the time anyway.
His tail flicked lazilly as if the last bits of tension were slowly melting away. He took another drink, a sip this time and his tail barely moved at all. It wasn't that Scar was anti-social, wait, yes it was. He spoke when it was necessary or polite to do so. Nothing more and nothing less. He swirled his drink slightly and glanced to the lad again, this time really taking him in.
He had to think of something to say, and quickly!
"Oh, how rude of me...I'm Taka Oenji...might I ask yours?" He asked, trying to sound interested. As luck would have it, he managed as always. He noticed the lad had a quite prominent mench feature. His furless face. and yet he had every other bit that would make him a koshka. That was...interesting.
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Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2008 8:08 pm
His ears rotated back when he was reminded his current location. Of course they had a lot of rain in Eramus, but it had only been the first step of the aristocratic social tango. He felt somewhat like an idiot and wondered if the social norm had been changed. Then again, with all the rain, it probably irked a lot of people to be reminded of the forecast. Rain, more rain, then a light drizzle followed by a Thunderstorm with the occasional fleeting moments of dark overcast to brighten up the day.
Taking a rescuing sip from his glass, he set it back upon his lap and was glad to see that the conversation was taking it’s next and more appropriate step. Introductions. “A pleasure to met you, Mr. Oenji. My name is Anthony C. Pulisipher, and as to be accommodating, he grabbed his glass and stood, leaning over and standing to walk over and offer his hand in a handshake. It was a must performance. Saying your name without it made matters feel unofficial and Anthony was one to keep things pretty close to the books as he could.
“I haven’t seen you around the Lavender House before. Do you frequent here often?” He asked, wondering about the man’s profession and rank with the hierarchy of the club.
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Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2008 8:54 pm
He rose and took the lad's hand, pumping twice, his grip strong but not overbearing. He locked eyes with the lad in a meaningful way as if to assert his dominance. "S'a pleasure Anthony." He said pointedly before reclining back to his seat.
He swirled his drink and gave the lad an appraising look. "Might I ask what you're line of work is, Anthony?" He asked casually, only asking do the dance could begin in earnest. He hated these 'dances'. Sure he knew the steps, and could preform with the best of them but there usually was no passion to back up his steps. Nothing at all.
His left hand slid into his pocket and he ran a hand over the raised etching on his pocket watch. He wondered, vaguely, if he had any common ties to the lad. Taka doubted it seriously. But his last name sounded, very familiar. He tried to place it but couldn't seem to at the moment. Ah well, perhaps his job would help him fit the soggy pieces of the slowly forming puzzle together.
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Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2008 9:14 pm
The grip and moment of direct eye contact, strong and one that sent messages in a heavy gaze, did not go unnoticed by Anthony as he reclined back into his seat, the phantom touch of Taka leaving through his hands. He didn’t know if he should have placed so much on the fact that he only used his first name, untraditional and very informal, as a sign that he was asserting the fact he was older or did not find any reason to respect him. There was also the gaze. It seemed to warn him and at the same time, made sure that he was remembered. It worked.
This was proving to not be the normal conversation and he felt the traditional dance steps falter, unsure to a new waltz he had yet to be sure how to pick up. Take was taking the lead.
“I am currently a apprentice mapmaker, though I’ve already been certified to work on maps away from my master.” He said, holding onto the drink in his hand. “I work on creating maps from anything from sailing wind currents for sailors, am well learned on the currents at sea, and have frequented and mapped various areas all across the world. Mostly commissioned based requests for some from various organizations.” He said, giving a summarization that made him feel much like he did when he was giving his credentials to big business merchants who usually watched him over ledgers and large, intimidating desks. Taka had that air to him. The air of nobility and importance was strong, stronger than some people he met here in the smoker’s lounge.
His eyes traveled to the watch and he couldn’t help his biting curiosity, but knew he had a limit to once question as both were far apart from each other. Two paths. He could either ask him who he was meeting, or what he did for a living. His eyes lingered on the watch, a stunning beauty of craftsmanship, which wasn’t something odd. He had seen every array of detail, etching, and beautiful displays of wealth in regards to pocket watches here. All of which made him envious.
No. He couldn’t ask whom he was meeting. It was being nosy.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Oenji, if I may be so bold?” He asked, attention back on the man, eager to know more about the mysterious man that seemed to command so much of his attention in hopes it would make him seem less intimidating by giving him a job. A life. A way of living.
He took another, deeper drink from his glass.
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Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2008 9:57 pm
A smirk tugged at the conre of his lips as he took a sip of his drink. He paused a moment before speaking to simply, experience, his drink. The way it trickled down his throat leaving him feeling as if we were wrapped in an old, worn yet loved blanket.
He often didn't speak his company aloud, but he found it quite appropriate in this circumstance.
"I'm the owner and CEO of a company that mints top quality brass cogs, using only the most pure alloys." He said. "We also dabble in custom billows and steam tanks." He added casually. " 'Cog Works', perhaps you've heard of it?" He asked arching a brow, all ready knowing the answer.
He had yet to address Anthony's means of making a living. "Map making you say?" He asked. "A very important profession I daresay." He said, giving off the air of caring, when he really couldn't care less. It was, afterall, polite.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 7:18 pm
If it was possible for this man to be any more intimidating, he did, and not only surpassed it, he was on another island! No wonder this man wasn’t doing the typical prance of banter that the average aristocrat here was accustomed to. Taka was by no means the normal aristocrat. Clog Works as THE industry. The life blood of the era.
In comparison, Anthony was a very small fish compared to the massive shark before him and he felt himself sink into his seat. Out of need, he gave another swallow of his glass, emptying it. “Well, I would be very out of touch with the world if I did not know your business. It literally runs everything.” He said, giving a nervous laugh to his admittedly, very lame joke.
He lifted a fist up and ‘ahemed’ himself to clear his nervous jitters and clear the fleeting need to lighten the mood with puns. He wasn’t a comedian.
“In think I should be the one saying that you have the important profession.” He said, breathing deep. His heart was racing. This man, literally, could crush his entire family’s reputation and make it so none of them could so much as brush a tail against high society and as hard as Anthony worked and as on ice their status was, he didn’t want to see it gone with a sharp word from a high authority figure.
He could feel his heat thudding, no way prepared for these types of stressors.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 8:54 pm
Taka gave a dry laugh at the lad's pun. He hadn't gotten to his station in life by not knowing how to read people. "This is true, but where would we know how where to dig for precious metals?" He suggested, lofting a brow again. "One occupation begets the other. While some jobs don't hold the same...grandeur or payoff where would we be without bakers, or cobblers?" He said. Yes, Taka wasn't the typical aristocrat. He made his own fortune and guarded it well.
He felt for some reason he had to ease the lad's tension. He had to keep the conversation flowing and scaring the piss out of the boy would make him hold his tongue. While most of his speech was to meet his own end, he wasn't completely cold hearted.
When it suited him., of course.
But of course he would guard his own. His father had once said to him, ' The garden of a man's heart is stony...he plants what he may and tends it, no matter what poison springs forth. Thus far he had things he considered thistles but may as well have been barbed with arsenic. But that was for him, him alone.
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Posted: Sat Jul 26, 2008 9:38 pm
“Too true. We all, in one way or another, support the other, though some more than others.” He said, watching Taka with a sort of mingling of emotions that ranged from fear and apprehension to curiosity and a sort of honor. It wasn’t every day you met the CEO of Clog Works, and he didn’t know if this was something he should be avoiding like a bad omen or, pardon his thoughts, a black cat crossing his path, or a sign of something better. An opportunity. It was a selfish thought, but one he couldn’t help NOT think. He was always on the prowl for improving his family shady status and if he could find a way for Mr. Oenji to vouch his good words to him in some way to others, then maybe it would clear up any of the lingering gossip about his family.
Good impressions were a must at this point, but that wouldn’t settle. Anthony needed a way to keep him somehow notable enough in Taka’s mind. Even a bit. Thing was, Anthony wasn’t a memorial person. Some people forgot his names at times or that he even existed. Mapmakers didn’t often get begged to join people for dinner parties or tea. There were still some members of the club he did not met yet and didn’t think he would.
At least he made him laugh. That was something, right?
“I actually once worked in a mine. Mapping tunnels have to be the worst. Hardly any points for reference and it’s downright hard to map depth correctly or set up a scale. I still have to say, I tip my hat to the workers there. Though stuff, those men. Strong as oxen and braver than most to work in those environments. Call me a coward, but I’m glad I have my profession in comparison to that. Then again, to each there own, I suppose.” He said with a shrug. Wow. I just dropped from unmentionable to boring. Maybe making him yawn consecutively will make me worth remembering, just so he will never speak to me again.
Signing, he stood up. He needed to refill his drink of he wouldn’t be surviving very long.
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Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2008 3:56 pm
Taka nodded and murmured a few 'oh's or 'I see's as he tuned his mind out of the conversation. He felt a yawn coming on but let it out in a manageable sigh. God, this lad was boring! Then he placed the lad's last name.
'Trying to keep up in society I s'pose. Heh, too bad he chose map making for a profession. That'll really count against him. Something so mundane and common.' He thought as his mind drifted to the smell of the pot roast in the dining hall.
He managed to focus a bit and catch the last bit of what Anthony had said. "Hmmm, yes I suppose that would pose an issue. Some aren't made for manual labour. Myself included." He said.
He wondered if the lad knew of his brother, Mufasa. He knew he'd be recounting the incident in Spain for quite some time much to his displeasure. But, such is life. It was a well known fact that he and his brother never quite saw eye-to-eye.
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Posted: Sun Jul 27, 2008 10:48 pm
A ‘dink’ of glass emanated around the room as Anthony poured himself another glass. The silence was stifling and it felt like a hot breath against the back of his neck.
He knew he was boring the man to tears. He hardly spoke, and he seemed to be impatient to met the other person. If he touched his watch any more, it would wear away the gold! Then again, he probably could just buy another one.
Breathing deep, he looked into the golden liquid in his glass, the ice cubes clinking as they melted further down, their water mingling with the harsh tonic.
His mind drew to something. Something he had heard, on an off chance, while being an entourage of sorts for a friend of a friend who was visiting a shady bar to ruff up a few men. Of course, Anthony was not there to do any of the ruffling, but he had been standing about just in case to report the matter and be witness that no one was killed. It was there that he heard talk about Clog Works. A name, hushed.
He knew he remembered something and now it struck him. Now it came to a question if he should say anything and be remembered as the boring guy that made poor conversation, or something else, either worse or better.
Risk it?
….well, he guessed he had a bit of his ol father in him, at bad as that was.
Turning around with his drink, he looked at the man seemed to be ready to doze off, bored out of his attire.
“I hope I’m not being too bold or outdated with this, but ….I’m sorry for your loss. I heard you recently lost a member of your family, is that correct?” He hoped it was or else he would be moron.
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2008 6:34 am
Taka's emerald eyes shifted over to the lad, the corn re of his mouth ticking slightly. "Yes and no, but thank you." He said.
"My older brother was injured while on holiday in Spain and isn't too right in the head. He had the daft idea to try the, ah, 'Running of the Bulls' or some such nonsense. Took a hoof or two to the head." He explained. "He's never been right since but other than his addled head he's the picture of health." He explained.
"It was a rather harsh blow to the family, I must admit. But he's not completely helpless now, so we just have to wait and see how much of his mind's inner workings come back to him over time." He said.
He paused. "A certain degree of boldness is a very good thing." Taka added. Oh, Lord. He was being rather pastoral again. Well, as pastoral as he was able to be. That side of him showed up ever now and again and he felt the need to squish it like a black beetle under the toe of his shoe.
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2008 8:13 pm
“It depends if being bold risk something that would otherwise make your bold action foolish.” He said, resuming his spot in his chair. He took a drink from his glass as a reward for making it to the counter and back without fainting. Swallowing some liquid courage, he resumed addressing Taka with his full and much deserved attention.
“That sounds terrible. To have your brother go through such a trauma. My best wishes to you and your family that he makes it through.” He said raising his glass in a small toast of ‘best wishes’ before taking a sip.
The idea of running with bulls was an insane idea and a worthless high, though Anthony was not about to insult the man’s ailing brother by insulting his poor choices. Still, you wouldn’t see Anthony do something as ludicrous as that. He already had a hard enough time dealing with horns the men at this club jabbed at him.
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