15169/Immortal Libations

Immortal Libations
Date of Scene:	01 June 2023
Location:	Joe's Bar, Kingsbridge, The Bronx
Synopsis:	Two Immortals have a glass of Scotch, and remember...
Cast of Characters:	Connor Macleod, Amanda Deveraux

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Connor Macleod has posed:
It was a rainy night in June in New York. The sounds of a live band were coming from Joe's Bar. The Bronx was quiet, but the music was grand. Jazz, Blues, real mellow music was streaming through the street, a real good vibe.

There were the regulars, all seated and drinking - listening to the tunes. A few voices could be heard, quiet and respectfully of the music. Ah, a Sax solo starts, going for a couple of minutes, bringing a bitter ambiance to the room. The bartender pauses for a few moments, closes his eyes, and listens.

In the darkest corner, the lights dimmed for the music, was a man nearly hidden from prying eyes. This was a trenchcoat wearing Connor MacLeod. He takes a sip of his scotch, and watches the stage with slight warmth to his eyes.

Amanda Deveraux has posed:
The door to the bar opens and a woman steps inside. The long, black coat conceals her outfit, the fine leather shimmering from the rain. A tilted fedora hides her face as well, all but those smiling lips.

The moment she steps inside, Connor's immortal senses spike. He is no longer among only mortals.

The brim of the fedora lifts as Amanda senses it as well, like two magnets coming close enough to react to each other's field.

It's a public place, and Amanda takes her time to let her eyes sweep the crowd. Hands remove slowly from her pockets, and she saunters slowly around to Connor's table. "Good evening. Is this seat taken?"

Connor Macleod has posed:
The music was mellow, and filling the room. That was when the sense of something "ominous" pushes its way into Connor's subconscious. It was a feeling of dread mixed with an electricity of perception. The feeling that was unique in the immortal realm. The presence of another Immortal...

Connor sips his scotch. It was a fine vintage. 100 years old. Peaty and smooth. It reminds him of...a brief memory flashback cutscene was interrupted by his eyes finding the woman who has just arrived.

"It is not. Please." Connor motions to the seat with his eyes and a slight tilt of his head. Then his eyes find the barkeep. "Joe. Whatever the lady wants is on my tab."

Joe simply nods, and goes to work. "What would the lady like this evening?" His accent was...strange. Scottish, but seemingly from "lots of places".

Amanda Deveraux has posed:
Amanda Deveraux unbuttons her long coat, showing leather pants and a low-cut blouse beneath... also black. The hat is removed with a flourish and she settles, leaning back comfortably and crossing one foot over the other.

Amanda smiles warmly, inclining her head. "Ah, a gentleman." she offers. "Thank you." Looking to Joe, she adds. "I'll have whatever he's drinking. Scotch, I believe. And rather old."

For a moment she regards Connor. "I am wondering how it is that we haven't met. I'm Amanda." Her own accent is quite clean, although an experienced ear would pick up traces of French.

Connor Macleod has posed:
Connor watches the woman go through her arrival. Of course he takes in what she was wearing...and carrying. With a smile, Connor rises slightly, and sits as Amanda does. "There are few gentlemen left. I learned from the best, a Spanish Peacock." Connor grins, remembering.

"And you are most welcome." Connor nods to Joe. "As the lady wishes. The Macallan it is." Connor raises his glass, and taps it for a refill. Joe grabs the bottle, covered in dust, and his cane, and slowly makes his way to the table. The older, bearded gentleman looks at Amanda in recognition but doesn't say anything. After leaving the filled-to-the-brim glasses behind, he goes back to the bar, and waits for the next set of music.

"Well..." Connor sips the Scotch, and sighs. His eyes closed. They open half way, and his eyes almost smile. "I am perhaps glad we haven't, because I still have my head." Connor's smile is now reflected on his face. "I am Connor. It is a pleasure to meet the Raven." Connor nods his head in true respect, his eyes looking into hers. "Truly."

Amanda Deveraux has posed:
Amanda lifts a brow at the mention of the Spanish Peacock. "And I learned from a French Lady." she replies, her smile becoming wistful. Amanda watches Joe, her gaze lingering perhaps longer than would be considered polite in most circles.

"Macallan, then. I thought I recognized the smell." the woman replies. "Connor. The Highlander. And if you know anything about me, you know that I'm not actively trying to raise my tally."

The woman leans back a little in her seat. "In any case, I am not eager to cross swords with the one who defeated the Kurgan." And with that, it is Amanda's turn to nod in respect.

Connor Macleod has posed:
Connor raises his glass respectfully in a salute. "To our mentors. Missed but not gone. Or forgotten." Connor takes a sip of the Scotch with a small sigh. Connor puts his glass down on the table. "Ignore Joe. He's a Watcher, and tends to overstep himself." Connor's smile reveals he was half-kidding.

"Ah. You recognized the Scotch. Respect." Connor's smiles turns into a grin. "A Lady who knows her drink. Ah'm impressed."

Of course she would recognize him. "I am the Highlander. Tha' original." A chuckle. "Ah'm not looking to raise my tally as well. There has already been too much killing."

Connor lifts his glass, and takes another drink. "The Kurgan." Darkness flashes across his eyes, a struggle for a moment, as the Kurgan's dark quickening struggles to take over. After a brief conflict, it was gone, as was the next Jazz tune that wallows through the air.

"There will always be those of us that follow the light, and the darkness. Ah'm glad to hear you are one of us."

Amanda Deveraux has posed:
Amanda lifts her glass as well. She takes a sip, eyelids growing heavy as she savors the liquor with a slow, deep breath. Swallowing, she echoes. "To our mentors." The woman flashes a smile over in Joe's direction, then. "A Watcher? He got a rugged attractiveness about him. Like Richard the Lionheart." A wink follows.

Amanda watches the shift in his expressions, remaining quiet until the music once more clears the air.

"One of -who-, exactly?" she replies, playfulness returning. "Darling, I have been called many things, but a 'follower of the light' is pretty far down on the list." She shrugs. "Then again, don't be fooled by all the black, either. This Raven may be a creature of the night, but that doesn't mean I follow the darkness."

Connor Macleod has posed:
Connor laughs. "Yes, he does. Richard the Lionheart. Now he's going to be hard to deal with for the next week." Connor grins as Joe tries to hide his blushing and "swabs" the deck with his rag. "Ah mortals." Connor shakes his head.

"Oh. One of the few who are "good guys" versus the "soldiers" of darkness. I am sure you know what I mean. Those immortals who have let their gifts corrupt themselves."

"It is one thing to take care of youself and want what is best for yourself, and those who strive for power. I am happy running an antiiques dealership and wait for the Gathering. As you have your own predilections." A grin.

Amanda Deveraux has posed:
Amanda smiles knowingly at Joe's blushing... mission accomplished. "Well if not being a 'bad guy' makes me a 'good guy', then I supposed that I'm guilty as charged." Her smile turns wry, then. "May I call on you as a character witness the next time I'm being questioned by the police?"

"I am something of a collector, myself." Amanda adds. "And yes, power has very little interest for me as an end goal. I'm simply trying to stay in the 'game' as long as possible." She swirls her glass, then. "Perhaps I could stop by your antique dealership sometime? I have a few very old bottles of wine, and we could catch up."

Amanda sips slowly, then adds. "Unless you believe all the stories about me, that is. I really hope you don't. But it will be fun either way."