Participants:
| Scene Title | Fruit Basket |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Two men and a bartender have a conversation about civil rights and discrimination - one of them has ulterior motives, which expand when the bar's owner arrives. |
| Date | July 31, 2010 |
"Abandon hope all ye who enter here."
That is the sign that rests just above the double doors that lead from the small foyer into the club proper. Once through the doors the music is all-encompassing, the heavy bass beat filling the room and senses of the club-goers. The decor is all dark, the walls painted black, the bar a sleek dark wood. The lights all have a reddish tinge to them, with the bar and DJ booth being the only places in the club proper that have more normal white light.
There are high tables with equally tall chairs circling a large dance floor, and booths set along two of the walls. But while socializing is a big part of the club, the dancing is the priority. People, some Goths, some punks, and some just people who like to dance are all packed on the dance floor. Weaving through the sea of people are servers, men and women both, dressed in black pants or skirts, and tee-shirts that have "Taratarus" written across the chest in red lettering. Likewise there are security people at the door and mixed through the club, in similar outfits, only their shirts have "SECURITY" on the back.
It's a fairly busy evening at Tartarus, as weekends are prone to being. Most in the club are wearing dark colors, some going a bit heavy on the eye-makeup and some of the clothing, but most seeming fairly normal, if not a little odd. For Nadira, she's been a bit busy, but with most of the patrons already having gotten their drinks, she's able to lean against the bar, watching the occupants and occasionally moving to fetch a beer or mix a drink for those who wander by the bar.
Richard Cardinal's usual look doesn't exactly blend in here, but he's not about to go all lacy sleeves and bondage pants either - that's just not how he rolls. Still, he has to fit in, so a black fitted t-shirt and a pair of black jeans will do for his 'clubbing clothes' this evening, although if truth be told he's here looking for someone. He doesn't seem to have found them, so he's been hitting on goth chicks that look of age instead.
Hey, when life gives you lemons…
A step off the dance floor - if you can call that dancing - and he slips up to the bar, easing himself in to lean against it and bringing a hand up to garner a bartender's attention.
One of the things that Jaiden does on weekend evenings is wander the streets of New York to find new and interesting watering holes. Sure, hitting a country-and-western bar or a rave normally requires a certain state of dress, but being Australian does give a lot of leeway on such things. Wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt along with his steel-toed boots, he fits in here better than most other places and moves through the crowd fairly easily, stopping now and again to let a pair of dancers gyrate past before continuing toward the bar where his golden elixir awaits.
"Hello, miss?" Jaiden lifts a hand to wave to the bartender when he sees that's the protocol, a $10 between his index and middle fingers. "A pint if you've got one? Something imported an' something not Foster's?" He gives a grin to Richard before waiting to be served by the fairly attractive bartender.
Moving over towards Cardinal, Nadira nods to Jaiden as he puts in his order. "I'll find you something not Foster's. Bet you get that joke a lot." She states before turning her attention fully to Cardinal. "What about you? What's your fancy… beer? Something harder? You don't strike me as much of a mixed-drink type."
"Bourbon," Cardinal orders with a tip of his head up to the bartender, a smile crooking up at one corner of his lips; notably, he's probably the only person in the place wearing shades. Indoors. "On the rocks." An easy nod back to the accented man, one arm leaning on the bar as he slouches there, adding casually to Nadira, "Melissa 'round tonight?"
"You aren't kidding." Jaiden smirks, sliding into one of the oddly-shaped barstools lining the front of the bar, resting his elbows on the bar. "And to head off another few misconceptions, no, I don't know the crocodile hunter, and no, I don't have a pet koala. Also, the Outback steakhouse is not Australian cuisine either." He smiles, lifting his brows at the mention of bourbon and the sunglasses in the darkened room. Ah well. Must be a fashion thing.
Nadira turns away for only a moment as she fetches both an imported beer they have on tap, as well as the bourbon. She moves over, sliding the bourbon to Cardinal. "Haven't seen her tonight, unfortunately. She might be by, I see her stop by most nights. Want me to let her know someone's looking for her if I see her after you're off tonight?"
She gives a small nod to the Australian as she slides the beer over to him. "People like to stereotype you, I see. Well, if we're baring our stereotyped souls… no, I don't ride a camel everywhere, I've never been involved in any sort of religious cult, I don't go around wearing a hijab, and no, I'm not in an arranged marriage to a man twice my age."
"I wouldn't really count it as cuisine at all, never had a good experience there," quips Cardinal with a shake of his head, gesturing with a lift of his fingers towards Jaiden, "You didn't answer the important question, though, man — Aussie women. As hot as the reputation makes them out to be?" A craning of his neck checks the table of the bottle that she's pouring from, and then he reaches out to accept the drink with an easy smile, raising it up in a casual salute, "…and I'm not a couch potato that doesn't know any geography."
A swig of the liquor, eyes closing as it burns down, drawing in a slow breath before exhaling it, "No, s'alright. I'll catch her another time."
The beer's cold, the glass cool against Jaiden's palm as he lifts it with a smirk, a muffled 'cheers' escaping in the scant moment or two before the beer is lifted and half drained in three healthy gulps. "Perish the thought, miss. I try not to hold stereotypes to heart, and I find it easiest to diffuse such things almost immediately. I can guarantee one of the people here will pop 'round and ask me something relating to an Australian stereotype at some point in the evening. And Australian women? That's one stereotype that actually holds true."
Jaiden turns slightly to make conversing with both easier, despite the bass from what sounds like The Cure's Greatest Hits. "Of course, you've got to treat them with the respect they deserve. The women down home work hard to look as good as they do and can knock you ass over teakettle if you're disrespectful or crass. Makes flirting intersting."
"It's cause they aren't afraid of Australians." Naira points out, but she offers a small nod to Cardinal. "She might pop by. Keep an eye out." She looks back to Jaiden, leaning on the bar a little as she notes the discussion about Australian women. "That I'd like to see."
"Always liked spirited women, myself," admits Cardinal once his eyes open again behind the out-of-place shades perched upon his face, a smile tugging up a bit at one corner of his lips, "Makes life more interesting. Never could keep an interest in those meek li'l things with no personality…"
After another drink, he gestures with his glass towards the other man, "So what brings you to our find country here? Can't be for the civil rights. We don't have those anymore."
"What's that, miss? Getting knocked ass over teakettle or flirting?" Jaiden's beer is emptied, the glass slid across the bar, his right hand going up and making a little 'come here' gesture…someone wants seconds, it seems. "It's the water, or the land, or the reef…We just seem to grow 'em right down there."
When Cardinal speaks, Jaiden nods. "Originally came here the day after the big explosion to tell the story and never left. I'm a freelance reporter - or was, now that I'm retired.
"Just mean the reaction to an ill-timed flirt." Nadira pauses. "You seem young to be retired." She comments, moving to refill the beer. She fetches another drink for a customer before returning, peering curiously between the two as she hands the beer to Jaiden.
"Quit while you were ahead, eh…? Probably the best idea," admits Cardinal with an easy tip of his head towards the Australian, "Saw the writing on the wall, I imagine. Not exactly a good time to be free media."
The beer is accepted with a smile, the top half drunk almost immediately. "I freelance, now and again, take pictures or write stories to send to the papers back home. Havin' a window into the land of the free can be pretty lucrative, sometimes. I'm semi-retired, too, but getting injured out of the military gets you a nice pension, and then hitting war zones for stories gets you another one." Jaiden chuckles softly. "After the city went up, there was really no-where to go but down in the story telling game. Kind of feel like I'm just reportin' history as it happens. Land of the free becomin' anything but."
"Seems reasonable. Enough stories to go around here…" Nadira points out, taking a moment to put away some of the dirty glasses behind the counter as she glances between the two. "Though I'm sure it's nice to be retired. Gives you time to pursue other things."
The glass of bourbon's brought up in a casual toast. "How the mighty have fallen," Cardinal mutters against the edge of the glass than as he takes a sip, his eyes closed, "Not too late to pull back from the brink, at least." A look back over the edge of his shades, then, "Plenty've stories. Ex-military too? What'd you do?"
"It is nice, but being retired doesn't mean I don't work. As far as what I did?" There's a brief pause. "Just security, most of the time. Nothing really interesting enough to tell about. Stood there with a gun and looked imposing for the 2000 Olympics in Sydney before blowing out my knee during training." Jaiden lifts his glass in response. "Started on the road to citizenship just before all this stuff started, so now i'm in limbo as far as things like that go."
Nadira falls silent to let the two talk. She's called away for a brief moment as some other club-goers come for drinks, and she spends a few minutes mixing up some complicated-sounding beverages before she makes her way back over towards the two. The conversation's interesting, after all.
"Must be a hell of a road these days… I mean, Christ, they don't even trust natural citizens these days," Cardinal observes both sympathetically and bitterly, his head shaking just a little, "I can only imagine what a pain in the ass it is for you. And God help any Evolved trying to emigrate here…"
"I'm just past the start, behind some immigrants from Iraq and Afghanistan. Fill out paperwork, wait months, call to see if they got it, wait months….it's bureaucracy on top of bureaucracy. But I'm here now, and it's where the story is and where I can do the most good." Jaiden goes quiet again for a moment, nursing his beer, the glass starting to show a little condensation on the sides, clear where his hands were resting. "I don't think evolved would be well served emigrating here. Fear is a powerful weapon for those in power to tighten their grip, an' this whole registration thing….for anyone….the parallel between concentration camps in Nazi Germany can't be ignored, but it is being in the name of security."
Nadira shrugs a little bit. "You'd be surprised at how badly Evolved can be treated in other countries too. Might even wager it'd be safer for some Evolved here than to be elsewhere. Don't think there are many places in the world really safe for Evolved these days. Persecution is everywhere."
"It isn't just the 'States, though," points out Cardinal with a tight little shake of his head, "A lot of the smaller countries - and even the bigger ones - are following the example of the 'big boys' and implementing similar programs. And like the lovely bartender says… some of the countries are worse than others. Look at what happened in Madagascar - in Argentina. Look at what's going on in Japan. I wouldn't object so much to the Registration problem, if the system wasn't obviously corrupt. If you ask me…" A murmur into his glass, "It won't be long before we see actual concentration camps. They're already 'encouraging' Evolved to move to specific areas, like Roosevelt. They haven't used the word 'ghetto' yet, but I think we can read the writing on the wall."
"Well, isn't this a cheerful conversation." Jaiden quips after a bit of frenzied drinking, his empty glass pushed away, hands resting on the bar. "And miss, I probably wouldn't be. Being an ex-journo, you keep contacts in some pretty nasty parts of the world. In some parts of sub-saharan Africa, evolved are being persecuted as witches with all the horrors that entails." A soft sigh escapes, the man pinching the bridge of his nose lightly, as if that'll soothe the headache that's building up. "It's a bad scene all around. Fear makes people do stupid things, and people who prey on the stupid take advantage. I hope the world comes to it's senses and just…." he trails off.
"Cheery indeed. At least you've got something to take the edge off." Nadira looks at the empty glass. "You're drinking that like it's water. Need another one, or are you good?" She looks back to Cardinal. "What about you? Anything else I can get for you? I've got to ask. After all, I am still on the clock, so… gotta offer, at least. Make the most of things. Gives me an excuse to stick around and talk to some of the more interesting patrons. But, you know, the world isn't gonna come to its senses anytime soon, so it's really just a struggle to live, Evolved or not. Even in this country. It's better than some."
"I could change the subject to how the bartender'd look in a corset," Cardinal offers without missing a beat, the edge of a grin crooking up to one corner of his lips, "And then you'd get to find out what I'd look like sprayed with seltzer water - or, well, I'd be having a much better night than I am otherwise, could go either way…" A shake of his head, "She's right, though. And no thanks, I'm still good— takin' it slow. Just look at the news. The idiots aren't going to be any less afraid of people like me anytime soon."
"I'm fine, thank you miss. I don't drink very often - just to indulge myself now and again, and it seems that a good lager'll loosen tongues and make social gatherings that much more interesting." There's a wan smile from the Australian after a moment and a look over toward the crowded dance floor to the gyrating crowd. "It's the best one I've found to hang my akubra in, and if it gets done wrong here, it gets done wrong everywhere. I mean, look at 'em…just dancing without a care in the world. Evolved? 'Normal?' (there are actually finger-quotes there) It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter."
"I'm not much of a fan of spraying someone with water simply for offering a compliment. At least, I'd assume it's one." Nadira points out, giving Cardinal a small nod. "Seeing some of the patrons and employees here have worn one, I'd contemplated one myself." She looks back to the Australian. "I find that's part of the reason I like being a bartender. You meet some interesting people who'll open up after a drink or two. Social lubrication." Her eyes move to the crowd as she smiles, just slightly. "Some things just make it easy to forget about worries like that."
"I can't say that I'm not pro-evolved myself," Cardinal says with a lift of his chin up towards Jaiden, "I don't know if it shouldn't at all… there are Evolved out there, playing Devil's Advocate, who're basically weapons of mass destruction themselves. Something needs to be figured out, but fascism certainly isn't the answer." A grin, then, "Richard, by the way."
The man turns back to the bar, regarding Cardinal, it seems, with a bit more of a sizing-up type of look. "Jaiden. A pleasure to meet you. This whole mess reminds me of politics around the world. There's an answer and if you elect me, we'll solve it. After my re-election, of course." There's another pause. "I'm pro-people….which makes me pro-evolved, I suppose. Fascism, sadly, is easy. Knee-jerk reactions are easy and make you look good to your constituents and ensure re-election to keep them safe." There's a chuckle. "Wasn't there a persecution of homosexuals in the 70's here in the states? Harvey Milk, I think, in California campaigned against it before his death? There might need to be an evolved Harvey Milk. Couldn't hurt, after all."
"Nadira's my name." The bartender offers, giving a small nod to each of the two gentlemen in turn. "Personally, I'd be a little worried about an Evolved serving that purpose. Didn't he get murdered? I don't particularly like the idea of setting someone up to be a martyr." The bar is wiped gently with a cloth as Nadira seems to think of the idea.
"We might've had one if Donovan had gotten the mayor's chair," admits Cardinal, his head shaking just a little at the other man's words, gesturing with a tilt of his glass before setting it down on the bar's surface, "Instead, we got… well, the Humanis candidate, frankly. And we have Praeger doing his Registration song and dance while trying to shuffle as many Evolved as he can onto Roosevelt Island…" A snort, "…things are gonna get worse long before they get better, I'm afraid."
"A pleasure, miss….and I didn't mean the whole martyrdom part, but the whole activism part before that. The thing I remember reading was of people, closeted homosexuals, coming out to let people know that this wasn't just affecting faceless people. Milk helped give the persecuted a face. He made them real to the public." The Australian twists a little in his chair. "Doesn't change the fact that it's a bad scene all 'round. Makes bein' evolved a dangerous proposition no matter what. Still." He makes a motion for another glass of lager. "makes me wish I could vote..at least I'd have the sensation that what I was doing mattered. Now I just help where I can. When I can."
"Noble ideas," Nadira murmurs, moving to take the glass and return with a fresh beer, pushing it towards the Australian. "I'd have to agree with Richard, though. Things'll be tough. Quite a storm everyone's got to weather. I'm more than happy to settle in for the stretch of things behind this bar. I make my contributions in my own way."
"You could always come out've retirement," Cardinal suggests casually, one brow arching over the edge of his shades as he looks to the Australian, "Take up the old pen'n typewriter again - or, well, computer, I guess." He grins at that, "You might be surprised how few people are willing to write about what's really going on."
There's a chuckle from Jaiden at that. "I just might do that, Richard. Just yesterday I ran into a lady from the Times who'd read a few of my stories back home and thought I'd fit in well. Freelancing here….it'll make Kosovo look like Kansas."
Nadira nods. "It's a good idea… might make a bit of a difference, especially with someone who actually gives a damn about people behind the pen. Sometimes I feel like there's not much of a heart behind most news articles." She shrugs a bit. "It'd be nice for some truth. Someone needs to do something. You seem the type of guy who could get something done, if you ask me."
"Not a bad idea…" Cardinal reaches for his glass, then pauses, his hand sliding into his jacket, "…why I'm thinking of it, though. You run across any stories that you're worried you run into some - problems if you publish?" A card's produced, and he offers it over between two fingers, "I might know some people who can get it out there with guaranteed anonymity, whatever psuedonym you decide to go with."
He's at the bar a stool or so down from Jaiden and Nadira's serving them. A glass sits before him, about a third full.
Sitting on the barstool opposite Cardinal is Jaiden, who reaches and takes the offered card and scans it momentarily before tucking it into his breast pocket. "It's good to know a man who can get things done and into places that don't normally like visitors." He grins. "You may be hearing from me at some point, Richard."
It's been several days since the boss was seen in the club. She called, of course. It would be unprofessional to do anything else, and the owner might get mad. But Melissa has to show up to work sometime, and tonight is as good a time as any! She enters the club dressed in her oh so usual black corset and skirt, moving slowly, carefully, her hair, a mix of blonde and dark red, purple, blue and black, left to curl about her shoulders and down her back. If it weren't for the bags under her eyes, she'd look just like she always does. Scars and all.
She stops at the door, chatting with the employees taking cover charges for a minute, before she pats one lightly on the shoulder and continues onward. When she reaches the bar, she eases onto the stool between Jaiden and Cardinal, and gives Nadira a considering look. "Test time. Make me a drink that would guarantee a cab ride home, and difficulty walking out of the club," she says, waving off another employee who starts to approach her. No, she's not ready for work just yet.
Drink ordered, she pulls out a slender cigarette case from a pocket hidden somewhere in the folds of her skirt, and lights one up, before looking over to Cardinal. "Back chasing innocent lil' goth chicks, Richard?" she asks, a faint smile curving her lips.
Nadira nods a little at the two, a bit of a smile before she notes Mel's presence. "Right. That I can do." She seems a little pleased at the opportunity to get creative, returning moments later with a drink that's a pinkish-red in color, sort of like fruit punch. "Gotta think of a name for this once, but… that'll guarantee you won't be driving home, or walking, either. Rough day?" She does, however, step back a bit to let Mel and Cardinal converse, putting away some of the dirty glasses and wiping off the counter.
"Any other help you might need, at that," Cardinal brings his glass up in a mute toast to Jaiden, a smile crooking his lips, "Us guys with half an ounce of common sense have to stick together, mmn?" A swig's taken, and he thumps the glass down, eyes closed for a moment behind his shades as the Wild Turkey burns itself down his throat and into his belly.
Then his eyes open, and there's Melissa, a brow crooking up over the edge of his shades. "Someone's had a bad night. Francois sends his best, by th'way."
The Aussie slips off of his barstool and extracts a pair of twenties from his wallet to pay for the drinks and gives one final brilliant smile. "Another time then, Nadira. Richard." His attention turns to the obstruction that recently ordered a drink. "Ma'am." Polite, isn't he? He goes the way he came, out the door and into the relative obscurity of the New York streets.
You have been applauded.
"Rough year," Melissa mutters with a shake of her head, picking up the glass and sipping at it. Her head tilts to judge the flavor, but before she can respond, Cardinal's mentioning a familiar name and eyes narrow slightly as she looks over to him. "You know Francois?" There's a pause, then concern wins out over paranoia. "When did you see him? How's he doing?"
Jaiden gets a glance, a surprised one, then she makes herself focus on Nadira. "It's good. Lemme know when you come up with a name for it, and if it does as promised, we'll make sure word spreads. House special or something."
"Fruit Basket. Tentative title. I'm sure I'll come up with something better." Nadira tilts her head to look at Cardinal for a moment. "See, told you you might find her if you stuck around." She offers a smile to the both of them.
"I know just about everyone who matters," Cardinal murmurs to the edge of his glass, taking another sip before setting the glass down on the bar's top. His gaze slants over his shades' rims, allowing with a faint smile, "He's been better, to be absolutely honest with you. You ever met his boy— Teo?" An easy bob of his head to Nadira - she did, in fact.
"Fruit basket?" Melissa pauses, then her lips curve for a moment. Then, of course, she just has to frown again and glance over to Cardinal. "You were looking for me? Why for? And yeah, I know Teo. Met him a couple times. Not as close to him as I am with Francois, but we're friendly enough."
Nadira nods a bit. "It's the kind of thing you send someone as a welcome or as a consolation when times are tough. So… a 'Fruit Basket'." She chuckles, but does her best not to interrupt the conversation, moving away for a moment to go serve a few other patrons before returning.
The tip of Richard's finger pushes the glass towards the other side of the bar, just a half-foot, in mute request for a refill - although he's not terribly loud about it, so he must not be in any hurry. "Yeah, Frenchie's a little upset because Teodoro was… Institutionalized." That's a very, very significant pause before that word, eyes flickering up to meet Melissa's past the upper rim of his darkened glasses.
Melissa shakes her head at Nadira. "Not what I was thinking, Nadira. Let's go with another name. It's safest," she warns the woman before sighing softly and nodding to Cardinal. "Yeah, I know. I've promised to help in every way I can. It's the least I can do for the poor guy."
"It's not that bad, considering some of the other drink names." Nadira points out, but she chuckles. "I'll think of something. May take me a bit, but I will." She takes Richard's glass, moving away for the moment to go fetch a refill.
"Oh, I'm sure you will…" Richard offers a grateful nod as Nadira steps away to refill, and he leans in slightly towards Melissa in a casual manner, one brow lifting itself up past his shades, "…the question is, will Peter help out without putting a thousand conditions and terms on it?"
"Nadira, dear. A fruitbasket is where a guy bends over, pants down, and shows off his junk. You don't want a drink you made named after that," Melissa says, shaking her head. She slowly looks back towards Richard, staring silently for a long moment. "I'm pretty damn sure he will, judging by his reaction when he found out." And the fact that he's already trying to locate Teo. "And even if he won't, I will. Francois is my friend. Like I said, it's the least I can do for him." She owes him, for all the patching up.
Nadira moves back as she slides the drink across the bar to Richard, folding her arms. "No worse than a Sex-On-The-Beach or a Redheaded Slut, is it?" She grins, almost mischievously. "I could start naming you off some of the worst ones… I think a 'Fruit Basket' is pretty tame. But I'll let you make the rule on it."
"I've always been fond of red-headed sluts," Cardinal replies with a crook'd sort of smile that suggests to the bartender he's not talking about drinks, bringing it up to his lips and taking a sip from it before turning his gaze back to Melissa - the smile not touching his eyes, which are hard and serious. His voice quiet, "Well, let him know that the King of Swords and I are ready to go deal with the problem, if you all'd care to… participate."
"I think that a fruit basket is worse than sex on the beach, but hey, it's your drink, you can name it," Melissa says with a shrug. Cardinal gets a frown. "Who's the King of Swords?" she murmurs to him, careful to keep her voice low enough so it doesn't carry. "But I'll pass the message on."
There's a big of a shrug. "Well, it'll do till I come up with something better." Nadira notes the low voices, turning away to head to the other end of the bar for a moment, offering refills to some of the other customers. She'll give them a moment to converse.
"A professional." The rest of the bourbon is slammed back, and Cardinal draws in a sharp breath — and exhales it near-explosively, stepping away from the bar a step and reaching into his jacket to draw out his wallet, thumbing through it, "Like me. Didn't we have a conversation about this once?"
"I don't know. My week's been pretty full, so my mind is pretty much focused on that," Melissa says with a shrug. "But I'll deliver the message. How can I contact you with the response?" she asks, giving Nadira an appreciative look for the privacy.
Nadira gives a small nod from a distance, staying back over at the other end of the bar for a moment, chatting up some of the customers while mixing a few drinks. She seems content to leave the two to chat, especially since it seemed like a sensitive topic.
A twenty's dropped on the bar's counter, although Cardinal doesn't seem to be expecting change, and he pulls out a business card as well. It's dropped to the surface beside the money, and he reaches out to slide a hand over her shoulder to lean in to murmur, "…and if he's being his usual whiny self, just get who you can." Past her, then, he's heading for the door.
A hand reaches out to take the card, nothing said about Peter being whiny. Melissa looks over the card briefly before glancing to the retreating man who left it. She shakes her head, sighs, and picks her drink up again, knocking back a healthy percent of the remaining liquid. "Oh yeah, August is gonna suck just as much as September."
Another gulp, this time finishing the liquid, and Mel rises to her feet, dropping some cash on the bar for a tip. "Nadira, I'm gonna get some paperwork done before I'm too blizted to see straight. Anyone needs anything, catching up or whatever, send 'em back, will ya?"
Noting Mel's forthcoming retreat, Nadira nods, heading over to her as she scoops up the tip. "I'll let 'em know. And, for what it's worth, I hope no one disturbs you. And hey… remember, if you need anything, I'm here."
Soon enough, Cardinal's lost into the crowds; a shadow amongst many.
Melissa smiles and nods. "Yeah, I know. Thanks Nadira." Then she heads off towards the back, moving carefully still, and doing her best to avoid bumping into anyone, which isn't her normal habit. But like Cardinal, she's soon lost to view.
Nadira watches the two head off, but soon returns to her work, shaking her head a little with a touch of a smirk on her lips. Her job, as usual, remained interesting. With a quick movement, she's back to the nearest group of people by the bar, offering drinks and refills.