My Alibi (Open, Please Play With Me)

[Meghan Swart]

Timestamp: Cycle 1, Brightening 9, Candlemark 10, Imperos, Autumn, Era XII (PF)

Arriving at the Crown Inn and Tavern, Meghan went strait away to the front desk. There she addressed the clerk on duty, securing a single room for the next brightening and paying the 5 crowns required. She especially made it a point to sign and date the Inn’s guest ledger, ensuring that there would be material evidence of her stay.

Once settled in, she took up a seat towards the center of the establishment, at one of the well lit tables that could be seen by all. A meal was ordered, the waitress given 12 crowns for a Chef’s Specialty, a glass of juice and a generous tip. And then the spectacle began…

Armed with fork and knife in hand, Meghan began to play the table as a makeshift percussion ensemble. She pinged the glass, dinged the plate, banged the table and otherwise made quite the little ruckus. In no time she had created a cacophony of bad drumming that could be heard by her neighboring tables everywhere.

[Z'kron]

Long brown hair flopping down over his face, Z'kron sat down in the seat next to Meghan, appearing to pay no heed to the ruckus she was causing. His face was utterly blank for a moment as he glanced at her, before switching rapidly into a welcoming grin. His hand stretched out, offering a bright orange carrot; utterly normal looking to all extents and purposes bar being unusually healthy. His eyebrow quirked up as she continued to keep making the noise. Either this child had a serious attention seeking deficiency, or something unusual was going on. At the moment, he was leaning towards the former.
"Fancy a carrot? Keeps you lucid"

[Aslos Ithinir]

Aslos' ears perk up to what others' most likely would find offensive. But in no time, the sounds slowed in Alsos's ears. The Cacophony Crescendo imbuing his inner sense of Rhythm Surging through the passion for life welling up within him
cling, cling, tang, d-d-d-dnk, tang, cling, cling
Before he knew it, his head was swaying, eyes closed visualizing the Fires of Glory lit after the hunt. A swaying head became weaving shoulders. Weaving shoulders became side stepping. Only a moment more and...
...yes, there it was. He had found it, that explosive secret. The Gate between the realm of passion and expression. The grandiose boundary of those two where Joy, Hope, and Glory are found. The Crown Lands of Celebration.

Aslos was now dancing in whirl of motion to the makeshift percusion. A right-back-left-back-right motion of little hops. Waving his hands side to side at waist level in small circles that parallel the floor to match his steps.

When he thought he could catch her looking at him he gave an approving nod with a panting smile.