Saloon of Dereliction {story}

[King Alboin]

[... continued from ---> http://bbs.evony.com/showthread.php?p=1591550#post1591550 post # 67 ]

*takes to walking to the Saloon for bier calls to me, says to me..

"Here I be Oh King,
"art thou thirsty
"Then come wit zing
"unt I will quench thee

Long strides I take as I venture forth. Knowing to believe and believing to know that bier awaits at journeys end.

Passing by yon hill where to looks a battle took place, I spy a lone figure. Sobs pour forth from her gullet. Terrible mournful echoing cries boohoo'd deep sorrow in mine ears. Affecting mine heart with affliction to asuade me strides from bier to hear her why be's.

Coming near her I call out my query, "Why be ye so sorrowful jeune filli? Unt what be thy name?"

"My name is Cossett', mon Seigneur, et I am the Anjo de la Dolorosa," she says harmonizing sadness with deep sorrow having a peculiar melodious accent. "Behind me is the hill of the slain ...



"I cry for these are
my brothers,
my sons,
my husbands
for I am
their sister
their mother
their spouse

"Whoa is for the pain these men felt
Whoa is for the inconsolate waste of flesh
Whoa is for the senseless battles over
pride
deceit
greed
envy
mord
falshoods
territory
currency
intolorence
doctrines
ideas ... IDEAS!! LIES!!!
Whoa is for, well? 'cause its just putain de useless"

Ho now, Cossett' , have a care for yor heart unt bridle yor tongue jeune filli," says I.

"Oui mon Seigneur pardonne mes brut et debase words, but it just pi$$es me off how they could do this to each other," she says sobbing all over again.

I gently take her by her wrists and pull her palms away from her face and damn near sobb myself when I see that she has cried her tears to blood.

"Cossett', Cossett' thy eyes are bruised unt thy tears are blood. Canst thy see? no? dost thou have no vision?" she shakes her head. "Why hast thou done this to thyself," I decry.

"My ducts betrayed me mon Seigneur, for I had no more tears for as to shed, so I beat my eyes with the heal of my palms till I could cry more. Tis befitting then me tears be blood," resolute this one is. "I need to cry for the slain, for that is my ministry, for I am the Anjo de la Dolorosa"

"No jeune filli, you may be the Angel of Sorrows, but what you need now is a bandage and a beer. Let the ravens sorrow over the dead for a spell." Pulling back her hood, the tips of her wings then being visable under her cloak. "Huh lookie dere, ye really are an angel." She nodded.

I open up my first aid kit, drawing out a roll of gauze unt wrapp that firmly around her eyes. Then taking her by her wrist, I place her bloodied palm on my forearm. "Come Cossett' join me, I will guide you, for I twas on my way to the Saloon not far from here, where I am sure they be bier."


She grasps me arm with a firm hold, so together, me a guiding, her a following, we walk the expanse of the plains of time and space, until we reach the Saloon ott Dereliction..



"There Cossett' here we are, unt they DO have cold beer, there is a sign, such a wonderful sign too, unt such a lovely establishment this be too!" I say smiling, though I know she can not see.

"I shall take your word for it mon Seigneur," she says smiling, now that I do see.

We enter.

[King Alboin]

Aromas of smoke, spilt beer, cleaning solvents, aged wood and old waff through the air as we step inside. The joint is a bit dark, almost deserted cept for three patrons and the bartender...



I lead Cossett' over to a corner table, makeing sure she is comfortable and set as I help her out of her cloak. Her folded wings pop me in the eye as they unfold to stretch. "ooh de'sole' Mon Seigneur, are you alright?" , she apologetically says rather hoarsely, for I take it she is really parched from all that bawling.

"Yes yes, no problema jeune filli," I say in response as I hang her cloak on a peg near the table. "You do sound sound a lil hoarse, I shall go get us some beer, you sit here and I will be back shortly."

"You are not going to leave me are you?"



"No no, just gonna get a couple of beers," reassuring her.

"Bon, then faire ma une pale ale et cold, s'il vous plai't. I always wanted to try a cold pale ale." she states with a hint of a smile.

"Good a pale ale does sound bout right right now, and yes of course cold," I state with an even bigger smile. Oh I can almost taste it now, cold beer, there is no better remedy for the mailaise of man than a cold frothy brew.

Boot stomping up to the bar, happy as all get out, calling to the bartender, "Bar Keep, two cold cold pale ales for my friend and I, and a round of beers for the fine patrons of this fine establishment," grinning from ear to ear as I order.

"Yes sir, five cold drafts, be just a moment," the smiling neatly dressed bartender responds.

I lean elbows up on the edge of the bar, boot on the boot rail, and then look around at the patrons whom I just bought beer for. And that is when it hit me like a sledge hammer. I was not in the normal place of time and space anymore Toto.

There sitting by the window, oblivious to anyone and everthing cept what he was a writing was Ernest Hemingway ....



And there sitting on the corner of the bar staring at me suspiciously as if I am going to pull out a heater and shoot up the joint is Humphy Bogart ...



O.o

"Where am I?" I ask quietly under my breath, and no sooner did I ask, then that I heard a voice and saw a vision all in My head, i think.

"You are here!"

~well that answered almost nothing~ I carefully thought

"Who said that?" I query to no one in particular

"I did," came the response from the old gent sitting against the wall at the end of the bar. I turned my head to smile a thankyou, when I recognized who it twas whom had spoken.

Fearing a long convo about to take place, I reached over and offered my hand. The old gent took my offered hand in a firm clasp and shook it.

"I know you sir," I says. "Unt I just want to say thankyou for all that you have done."

"You are welcome young fella, however who do you think I am, unt how do you know who it is you think I am is, unt what have I done that you give thanks for?" He said smiling, obviously enjoying His play on words.

Smiling back, resisting the urge to bow, I answer, "Why you are the Author of All Existance, the Grand Old Designer. I give You thanks for Designing All of Existance, and I know this cuz its written on the blackboard behind you, Sir."



"Pleased very pleased to have made your aquaintence, however no disrespect but I see that me beers are ready, and I must get back to my friend," I says extricating meself hopefully from further discussion.

[King Alboin]

"Your beers sir," says the bartender as he places all five brews down on the bar...



"That will be one and a half stones," he quips.

So I pull out two rocks, and lay them on the bar, "Keep the change my good fellow, thanks."

He hefts the two rocks in his hand, judging their value, then smiles. Guess basalt is sufficient, so I grab two of the muggs and go back over to the table where Cossett' is patiently awaiting her first taste of beer.

I set the beers down on the table, then sit next to Cossett'. Taking her wrist again, I guide her hand over to the mugg. She feels the cold of the glass, smiling she wrapps both hands around the mugg and brings it to her nose to smell. Smiling at that she sips the beer through the foam, and smiles once more, though this time sporting a beer foam mustash. I smile.

I see that the bartender set the other beers down in front of the three distiquished patrons. They in turn pick up their beers and start to walk over to our table in the corner, descending as it were for a bit of inquisitive inquiring, would be my guess.

Cossett' gulps a copius amount of bier on her second pull, and making a face, as like she is suppressing a belch, ~braaahahp!~ Nope. "Oh what was that?, excusez 'moi, I have never done that before!" she starts.

"No no, no pardon necessary, for that Anjo was a belch, which means this is good bier, yes?"

"Oh oui, bonne bier Mon Ami," and without further enticing she drank some more, and brapped out another thankyou to the brewmeister.

She gave a chuckle, which amade me chuckle, for I was happy to see her enjoying herself. What I was not so cheerful about is that the three fine gents were now standing before our little table in the corner, seeming to want an invitation to sit down. Cossett of course could not see them, nor did she hear them.

"May we three join you two in polite converstion?" the Grand old Designer politely asked. At the sound of His voice, Cossett squeaked, slammed her beer mugg on the table, which I caught before it spilt, and dove under the table to prostrate herself before her boss, hitting her head in the process.

I looked down at her and up to the Designer and asked, "May I?" He nodded his consent. I crawled under the table and took her by the wrist again, and whispered in her ear, "He said He gives you consent to sit with us ... up there on the chairs. Its alright jeune filli, its alright, come on."

As she understood my words, she grasped ahold of my hand for to allow me to guide her back to her chair, Yet as she sat down, she smoothed her robe, rubbed on the knot beginning to appear on her temple, then placing her palms flat unt square on the table in front of her, she bowed her head, as if in supplication. I placed her beer mugg back into her hands. After a bit, she wrapped her palms around the mugg, and even though still bowing her head, made as if to sip.

"Yes, gents if that be your motive, polite conversation, then by all means sit and enjoy my humble hospitality and our company for as long as ye wish," I says before I too take a long pull on a cold beer. Scootching out of chairs and the sound of them scootching back in, the three gents setting their beers on our lil table as they settled in.

[King Alboin]

Humphrey Bogart was the first one to lay in on the 'polite' conversation,
"Who are ya?
"What do you want?
"What's the meaning of coming hear?
"How did you find us?
"When are you going to leave?
"Aren't you gonna answer?
"Why are you so calm?
"Don't you know you should be in fear?
"Well?"

"Wow," I say, chocking back a chuckle unt the beer that wanted to come out with it. "Tis refreshing to be grilled by the best, Oh I am having fun now! Okay Mister Bogart I will answer your questions if you and only you can answer mine. That is with out any help from Omniscient here
"Who put the bop in the shimmy whammy bing bop?
"What did the parot say to the thief?
"What's the meaning of life?
"How did you find Lauren Becall?
"Dint you know she was only seventeen when she shot her first film with you?
"When are you ever going to stop smoking?
"Aren't you even curious of why you are here?
"Why are you so suspicious all the time?
"Don't you know what your name means now?
"=)"

Bogart jumps up all in a huff, kicking his chair out, causing it to clatter accross the floor, "I dont like your tone, Mister!!"

I jump up, in the ready to come to blows. "I dont like your accusational becks Mister. So sit down or be put down," I say through gritted teeth.

The Grand Old Designer, holds up His hand, and Bogie settles down. Cossett' reaches up unt finds my fist, and pulls down on it, signalling me to sit back down.

"Humph! do go see if the Michael needs help tapping the kegs," the Designer commanded. "Remember decorum, for we are his guests at his table. That's what put you here to begin with, you forgot about decorum. Now go help Michael out."

Bogie obeyed without wrath and walked a way. I sat down and let the Anjo hold my hand as I unclenched my fist.

Ernest then spoke, outloud and clear, "He sits, adrenaline coursing through his veins, pulse beating the anger, though an angel holds his hand. In his mind he ponders ways to devour his new found enemy, friends no longer. Perhaps never the friend but always the enemy. Sinews taught, muscles tight, the hollow feeling burns doubt. Would this of been the day he died? The answer is never certain till the rise of a new sun. By divine providence the fight asuage. The stranger will live out another day."

The Author of All Existance and I turn our heads and just stare at Hemingway. He smiled and bellowed "Barkeep, four pints extra stout, my tab if you please!"

"Sure thing Ernie, be just a moment," Michael the barkeep bellowed back.

And within moments four pints extra stout sits on our little table, the empties being pickup along with Bogart's chair...
unt color starts to appear.

[Bree Fletcher]

I'm still waiting for the kicker, exactly where this is all going. Why these people are all here together... But it's been an enjoyable wait so far. So I'll just read and continue to wait.

[King Alboin]

^thankyou Bree

Takes one of the drafts and slides it over near Cossetts' finger tips. She feels the coolness as she runns her fingers up to find the lip. Grasping with both hands she brings her pint up to her nose. *Sniffs* . A small drip of frothy foam hangs delicately from the tip of her nose as she asks, "What be this Mon Seigneur, sent comme une vieille botte, non?

"Yes umm no, huh? an old boot did you say? AH AHAAHAHAH, yes does sortof smell of boot. Trust me though Anjo Cossett' tis much better on the pallet than on the nose," I muse. "Unt much better going down the gullet, unt much much better ven it hits your noggin."

"Quelle est cette, noggin?" she asks.

"Caboche, mon ami. Umm, its your head, a noggin is your brain bucket," I say, as I poke the top of her head for emphasis.

"Ooooooh!" she smiled and to my amazement ... draining the pint to near extinction.

"He befits hisself with amuzement, guiding the damsel Anjo to her demise. Plots abound in yon head stranger," Hemingway starts. "Do you think you can ply this host of the heavens with beer in hopes of scrunching the sheets?"

"I think Ern ole buddy that I can ply my fist scrunching your nose, if you utter one more insult my way," I respond.

"I .. I meant nothing of the sort, I .. I just was musing a jest is all," he says, scampering to contrast the fear of the obese to the strength of the halt.

"Nemo me impune lacessit my tired old friend, got it?" I say looking for recognition of the old motto in Hemingway's eyes.

Unt he did recognize it, for he "Harrrrummffed" then grabbed his pint unt slowly got up to leave our lil table.

"You dont keep friends for long king, do you?" the Grand old Designer commenting retorically.

"He chose to judge my motives, Sir." yes I said it.

"He did not mean no harm king, he is a wordsmythe and says what he observes, no judgement just observation. For you must admit, getting an angel drunk for the first time has the looks of lasciviousness, would you not agree?" He speeched.

"Actually Author I disagree," I truthfully state. "Twas a projection of his own lasciviousness not mine, that was the fault of his toungue's insult. I was not the one who called her mission to bewail the slain. I am not the one who places purpose of loyalty to all bounds in her heart. So much so that bereft of tears she shed blood. Whilst he pittle farted on his wordsmythingz, unt Bogie on his suspicions, she bawled blood into her palms."

"Mon Seigneur s'il vous plai't ne," Anjo softly beggs. I squeeze her hand assuringly.

"Who gives you the right to speak thus? I certainly do not!" reprimanded the Author of All Existence.

"I do not slander, therefore truth gives me the right. Thou designed all to be good, therefore all is good. Thou put forth freewill into the heart of Your design, yet if the path the design chooses is against Your will, freewill is denied. Therefore freewill is moote. If by that what was designed does its own thing but perhaps not always good and fails in Your eyes and You being its Designer then all hope is lost, might as well erase everything You ever designed and start over," I pose.

"I already did that ... twice before." reflects the Author.

"I know you did, must of been hard for You to. So hard in fact that a piece of You dies each time You do," spoke I.

"Yes, tis the case. So what is your point?" He asks.

"It is my thought that if you were to erase this present design, as You did the past ones, Your next design will have even worse flaws than this one. If I were You then I would reconsider and not destroy this design,"

"Do you pretend to direct My steps?" He said, slightly in anger.

"I assume we are still having a polite conversation?" I ask. "For that twas the prerequisite for ya'll three attending a private affair of two."

He nods. Cossett' though she cannot see must be able to feel her boss' thoughts, for she let out an audible lungful of breath she had been holding, I suppose in relief we were not cinders and ashes.

"Good! Then I see ye are out of beer unt Cossett' is out of beer unt I am out of beer. Time for some more beer, yes? Barten'...."

"Tis My turn, therefore I shall get the next round," He interrupted, as three cold beers just appear on our lil table...



"Wha? whoa they just appeared, what a way to be served! A miracle indeed! Thankyou kindly," I say smiling as I scootch Cossetts' beer over to her finger tips. She knew the rest.

"Merci oh l'Auteur de toute Existence," she says humbly giving thanks.

"Deux d'entre vous sont les bienvenus," the Author of all Existence responds with a smile. "I mean what good is it being the Author of all Existence if I did not have all of existence as a whim of My will? Hmmm?"

[King Alboin]

"Tis indeed a most awesome perk Author," I say smiling. "As I said earlier, I appreciate all that You have done, like sunrises, aaaaand the Universe, aaaaannd gravity, aaaaannnd protophenomologicalinteritums, aaaaaannnnd sunsets. You really do quality professional work. So here's to You!" in raising my bier mugg, I toast.

The Author of all existence, Grand old designer Hisself, smiles tipping His bier mugg in acceptance. He then gulps down a long pull of His bier, leans back unt just sits there, seemingly lost in reflection.

Cossett' raises her mugg in the toast, took a sip then leans over to me and quietly whispers, "Mon Seigneur? I have need to .. umm ... faire de l'eau."

O.O ~I always wondered to myself if angels had such needs~

"Of course jeune filli, yes meeee too," says I. "I will take you, no worries. Hmm?"

"Oui, pas de soucis," she says.

"Well, excuse us Author. We shall return shortly," I says to the old gent as I take a long pull of my own mugg of bier. He nods.

Sounds of screeching chair legs scootching back on a hardwood floor resound throughout the almost empty saloon as I stand up. I walk around and take Cossett' by the hand. As she stands she stretches her long wings to full extent. ~amazing~ After she folds them back tucking them neatly in place, I guide her to the other side of the saloon.
`
We stopp at a sign that reads 'Necessary Room' , urrrgh!

"Quel est le proble'me Mon Seigneur?" she asks.

"Well what's wrong is that the sign says 'Necessary Room'," I gruff.

"Et alors?"

"Aaand then ..., there appears to be only one room. =\"

"Oh pas de proble'me silly, for une I can not see, et deux, you can runn the water to cover up noises, oui?" she says.

"Yes, that will work. Good thinking jeune filli," I say in agreement, so in we enter.

I lead the Anjo over to the sitting stall, and guide her hand to its handle, un well she will get the idea. Going over to the sink, I crank the water faucet on full, as I hear the door to her stall close and lock. Only then do I proceed to the standing stalls.

"Mon Seigneur?" I hear her ask, her voice almost muted by the sound of the running water, yet having that distinct echo known for a rest chamber.

"Yes Cossett'."

"Are you really a king?"

"Yes Anjo, why do you ask?"

"Oh aucune raison, its just that the Author called you king twice."

"Ah, so He did, hmmm."

"Roi?"

"Yes jeune filli."

"I think the Author He likes you."

"OH? how can you tell?"

"He has not brule' you to toast," she said, and I think I heard her giggle a lil when she did.

"Now why would He do a thing such as that?"

"Do you not know silly? You are arrogant et trop confiant in His presence. Pas trop sage of you, mon ami." she states.

"Arrgh!" I say as I complete the task at hand. I walk on over to the sink to freshen up, washing my hands from the wrists to finger tips, unt splash water all over my face. Washing away the weariness of this long journey. "Ahhh!"

Looking in the mirror at my mugg, I take note that rising above the stall behind me are two wings sticking straight up in the air. Their feathery tips just curling in on the cieling. *blink blink*

"And why pray tell is it not too wise of me to be who I am?" I ask.

"Oh only because it is mandatory for one to be humble before their superior, et show humility s'all," she says matter of factly.

"Well mon cheri, see I share with Him, as do we all, in something the Grand old Designer did not design," I say somewhat boasting.

Her wings disappearing back underneath the walls of the stall, and a few moments later, she opens the door and walks toward the sound of the running water. I gently take her by the wrists and guide her hands under the small fountain placing a bar of soap into her hands for to wash.

So she asked,"Et ce partage est-il?

"The inherent ability to Love, is what that sharing is. Here allow me to wash those bloody tears from your face, and replace your bandage while we have some time and some water. k?" yup, I wrote that.

She nods.

I take a hand towel from a pile of them from off the shelf, soak it in the hot running water, then start to dabb the dried blood from off her cheeks. I then carefully remove her bandage, and dabb the dried blood from her eyes. Her eyes were still seriously bruised, yet the swelling looks to be subsiding. So I gently hold the warm towel to each eye in turn, to help the swelling to subside even more.

With the blood all gone, unt her face freshly washed I asked her, "Are you able to see any light yet?"

"Non, monsieur, pas encore."

"K ... well, perhaps soon, yes? That is after the bruising has gone down some more."

"Oui!" she said with a hint of determination.

I took out another bandage from out of my handy dandy first-aid kit, and began wrapping it around her eyes and hair. This is when she asked her question. Now I just know she must of been a pondering on it for awhile, because of the tipid way she asks.

"Mon Seigneur?"

"Yes Cossett'," I say.

"Will you take me with you when you leave?"

"Yes Cossett' if that is what you want."

She bit her lower lip, for a moment whilst I be a finishing up on her bandaging. Then she grinned and said, "Bonne, oui, that is what I want."

[King Alboin]

"Arrrgh" I decry.

"Ce qui s'est passe', are you alright?" she asks.

"Oh nothing has happened, its just that ..."

"Quoi?" she says with a hint of a sniffle. "So you do not want me to leave with you? but you just sai...."

"No no Cossett'," I interject. "It tis not that at all, I just really dont know where I am, for when I came here it twas just on a whim, a random act of stepping into the unknown, hence ... I dont know."

"Mon Seigneur, you really do not know where thee be?" she asks, dripping with concern.

"Really really. So you can understand that since I dont know where I am, or where we are, I dont know where to leave from. I would go back to the door I stepped through, however it disappeared as soon as I stepped in." I said as I was pushing the Necessary Room's door open.

Walking back through the corridor leading to the Saloon, she stops me by putting her palm on my chest pressing me up against the wall and says to me she says, "Aucun monsieur, you can not do that!"

"Do what?"

"Oh you can never go out through the in door, non non non, only in through the in door, conversely you can never go in through the out door for the same reason," she lectured, pointing one finger up and shaking it for emphasis.

"In through the out door? Huh? OH, just like the Led Zeppelin album ... yes?", I muse.

"Je ne sais pas pourquoi you would want to read about Count Frederick for he does not know where he is either." she said ... utterly confusing me.

"Um .. huh? Oh I get it, no that is not what I meant mon cheri, I said 'Led' as in lead or heavy, not 'lu d' as in 'to read'. And Zeppelin as in balloon, not meaning Count Frederick von Zeppelin, cuz thats what John Bohnam said when they asked him how does he think they will do in the music industry, and he replied .. "I think we will go over like a lead balloon." thing." I expained, not all that well I think. "So, you know the Count?"

"Oh, excusez moi monsieur," she said placing her fingers over her mouth. "That is funny," she giggles, "et oui I do know the Count and your John Bonham, they both come to the Saloon ott Dereliction quite often."

"That makes sense, somehow," I say out loud. "So this saloon is the Saloon of Dereliction?"

"Oui?"

"That makes sense too," I quip. "So Cossett' then you know where we are then .. yes?"

"Oui!"

"Annnnd thennn," I put the question to her, "you know the way out of here?"

"Pas tout a` fait," she responds.

"Ho, huh?, what do you mean not quite?"

"Oh mon Seigneur, that is what I was about to tell vous, before," she starts. "Understand that Seriph have three sets of wings, Cherubs have two sets, me? I only have one set, *soupir*. So as they all can fly while blind I can not. Vous voyez?"

"Yes I see, sort of," I say. "But you have wings, even though you have only one pair, can you not fly at all?"

"Oh oui, I can fly, I just can not fly out of here, for I do need to see where I need to be to fly to where I will be when I fly there," she explains. "That is why I asked you if you would take me with you when you leave, for I have given up my ministry of Anjo de la Dolorosa, and have no where to go cept here. As you said," she says imitating my deep voice, "let the ravens sorrow over the dead for a spell" et then you bought me a bier, et I yike it ayot." she smiles a giggle.

Utterly perplexed I follow confusion to its logical end. "So those are truly good things to know, um .. all of it is. However that leaves us with three problems, one is solved sort of, but the other two need to be worked out. Or we will spend all of eternity beating our heads against the wall, which would not be so bad, for the bier is good here."

"Oui, but the company is oh sooo, " she yawns. "how do you say .. 'ennuyeux'."

"Boring."

"Oui, boring. eh *soupir*."

"Yup ... *sigh*."

We both lower our heads in thought.

"Quels sont les trois proble'mes we need to sort out?" she asks.

"Well of the three problems, the one almost solved is that you know where we are ... yes?" I point out again.

"Oui."

"So that leaves the other two which are ..," I say, holding up my fingers bulleting my points. "One we need to find out where from here is the place we need to go, and Two find a way to get there."

"Ah mon Seigneur, I can help us with both of the first deux, I have une cart." she says smiling all mysterious like.

"You have a map?"

"Oui!"

"Well I aint never, may I see it?"

"You have never what? oh nevermind, oui ye may see it," she says as she reaches behind her. Feeling around under her wing she brings out this scroll all rolled up and holds it in her grasp, as if it is the most important thing to her.

"How, ummm where? What ...er .. do you have pockets in your wings?" I ask.

"Oui many pockets silly, bonne now listen carefully monsieur Roi," she says as she taps my chest with the scroll. "This la carte is a very special one. All one needs to do to find out where they need to be is to say where it is they need to be at before they unfurl it. It will then show you where you are and where you need to be at. Here take it et say the place we need to be."

I clasp hold of the map in mid tap, and as she releases it into my grip, I speak the place to of which we need to be.

"King's Bar." I unfurl the map...



"Holy sneaktooters lookie how far we are away from the Bar." *blink blink* o.O