#log 46

--[ The Crown and Rose ]------------------------------------[ Amber City ]----

   The Crown and Rose occupies a prime location just off the main            

   marketplace of the city. An old, established pub and inn, its polished    

   wooden walls and furnishings, and warm-lit brass fixtures, give it an    

   air of comforting familiarity. The motifs of its namesake ornament the    

   carved backs of the chairs, and there are always fresh roses wreathing    

   the mantle above the fireplace. The tavern's patrons are extremely        

   diverse, spanning the full range of social classes, natives and          

   transients alike. The prices are moderate given the location, and the    

   food is good but the beer is better.                                      

                                                                               Windows are set along the front, southward-facing wall of the pub,        

   though they are curtained in the evenings. Booths line line the          

   western and southern walls; the hearth is set into the eastern wall,      

   and the bar is along the northern one. Tables, not overly close          

   together, fill the intervening space.                                    

                                                                               At the back of the spacious room is a staircase, only wide enough for    

   one to walk up at a time; it leads up to a hallway, off of which is      

   the inn's common room and a few private rooms. Other than that, the      

   only other visible exit is the door to the street.                        

   Alec is here.                                                            

----------------------------------------------------------[ Exits: U Out ]----

Sullivan comes here from the direction of the Main Concourse and Royal Way - Amber City.

Sullivan has arrived.

Sullivan makes his way into the Crown and Rose, a local man holding the door open for him. "Far as I know, m'lord," the fellow says "he's been in and out of th'city." "Thank you. Well, I guess I shall find out, hmm?" A couple of steps further in, tall and with his hands upon staff and golden sword, Sulli looks about the tavern. "Anyone here by the name of Alec?"

Alec sits at a table in a corner, absently plucking at a harp held in his arms, his left hand bandaged across the palm. When he hears his name, he looks up and stops his playing. Alec hesitates a moment but then stands, tucking the harp under his left arm to raise his right in greeting. "Over here," he says.

--[ Sullivan ]-------------------------------------------------[ idle 6m ]----

       This man's form seems to be leeched of almost all colour. Long, straight hair the hue of glossy ebony with a faint patina of red falls down his back to a narrow waist, left free but for a small diadem of silver with serpent chains, that hold it back from obscuring his features. His framework is tall and graceful at 6'4", carved out of pale, cloistered alabaster that is almost transluscent and luminous in the right light. His features are unmistakeably fine, almost fae in their delicacy, aristocratic, angular and high, with a bone structure that lends itself to unbridled beauty, emphasised with delicate, gothic make-up. At his throat, a pendant hangs on a plain black leather thong: A pair of black serpents with jeweled green eyes on a field of grey stone, wound and wended with green-tinted vines. His eyes though are very much the most striking thing about him. They are utterly black of iris and pupil, with a bloody glow in the depths that is eerie.

       He wears a frock-coat in a blood red that seems to flow as it shifts in the light, with a high collar, long curved tails and gauntlet cuffs. Curving along the hem, embroidered in black, is a two-headed serpent, coiling from the back, up the front opening, then around the back of the neck before the heads come to rest on either side of the collar, emerald green gems for eyes. The buttons are tiny oroboros and the folded cuffs are embroidered in the same scale pattern as the rest of the coat. Beneath is a silk vest in scale-motif bone white, over a high-collared shirt in sheer black. Red silk that matches the coat forms the trews extending down to past the knee, neatly meeting with bone white stockings and black leather flats. A silver chain belt under the overcoat supports the hilts of the swords that hangs upon one side, the twining, carved serpents watching silently from one, the other gilded and emblazoned with runes. He carries a Y shaped staff also.

----------------------------------[ male finger no-chatter trouble-yay/5 ]----

Sullivan's black eyes find the man as his hand is raised and he nods to the barkeep, indicating the table. It appears as if there's a standing order, for a refresher of whatever Alec was drinking and a glass of red wine is brought to the table as the tall man nears. "Good day then, Alec," he offers, his voice softspoken and vaguely musical when not calling for attention. Easy to listen to. "Lord Sullivan Barimen, husband of Prince Brand Barimen," a hand is extended the staff left to stand on its own on the floor, which it does /somehow/, his other hand reaching for a letter which is pulled out. "Maybe you can shed light on this? It's a little enigmatic, to say the least..."

The letter is penned by Marlene's hand and reads thus: ' Lord Sullivan, I hope this find you well. There's someone I should like to arrange for you to meet with at some early convenience. I suspect your unique expertise may help shed light on a certain matter. Cheers, Marlene.'

Alec raises an eyebrow and takes the letter, reading it over once quickly before offering it back and then returning to his seat at the table. He rests the harp across his lap and nods. "I know what she's talking about," he says. "She said you could verify my parentage somehow, or at the very least confirm if I have any pattern in my blood or not."

Sullivan arches an eyebrow as he folds the letter once again and slips it into the pocket from whence it came. "Aah, yes... now that I can do." He muses this, studying the man, indicating the seat. "May I?" polite at least in the asking, he sits then, reclaiming the staff to lean it against the table instead, reaching for his wine. "Do you suspect that you are?"

Alec nods. "I've ended up with quite a lot of evidence that I might be, at least. It seems likely enough that my suspected father has claimed me as his even though I don't have anything that proves it completely yet." He shrugs and takes up his own drink, but pauses before it reaches his lips. "Wait, Sullivan?" He lowers his beverage. "You aren't the one who saved Harper, are you?"

Sullivan's wine is lifted to his lips, a drink taken as Alec speaks most of this, holding firm and still at the question. A flickering coal-fire burn in the depths of the black of pupils ignites there, lowering his glass to rest it upon the table once more, held by a single fingertip. "I am," he replies, tilting his head. "I saved her father, also."

"I thought your name sounded familiar," Alec says. "Harper mentioned you when telling me about the recent avalanche, said that you pulled her out of there and patched her up, saving her life. Though," he continues, "I didn't realize her father was in the avalanche as well."

Sullivan aahs, nodding as comprehension comes, smiling lightly, as if in distant memory. "I saved her father a very long time ago. Over a century..." he replies, quietly, looking the other man in the eye. "The avalanche, she had hypothermia and a number of injuries; it was a dream-wolf that told me where to find her."

Alec raises his eyebrows at the mention of the rescue occuring over a century prior, but the surprise quickly leaves his face. "Right. People live really long out here for whatever reason," he mutters, finally taking a quick swig of beer before setting his drink back down. "But still, I'm grateful that you saved her life. She's a good friend."

Sullivan nods softly. "She is. She does what she must and does it with a rare strength of character," the length of life makes him chuckle a little. "But yes, we live a long time. You will also, if you're of the blood. I'll still outlive you if I'm not chopped up and used for battery pieces, though..." he snorts softly "...the curse of being truly immortal." The wine is left, his hand held out, palm up. "You wish to know if you are of the blood then?"

Alec nods. "Though, part of me's dreading knowing the answer either way," he admits. He lifts his bandaged left hand and offers it out. "Marlene mentioned the process will take some blood. Might as well take it from this hand, if so."

Sullivan smiles lightly, gently taking the injured hand in his own and pulling from the collar of his coat a single dress-maker's pin. The prick is sudden, quick, barely stings and an iddybiddy droplet of blood is caught on the tip -- he licks it, inhaling deep as he does so, tasting the vital red, eyes closing...

Alec watches Sullivan work, a look of interest on his face. He looks only briefly startled and repulsed by the drinking of his blood. Still, he waits, tense, for the judgment.

Sullivan rolls his tongue around his teeth, settling back into the chair and exhaling slowly. For a second, a flash of sharp fangs shows in the dark there. "Blood of Oberon... Blood of Rilga's sons... the storm, I know those tastes anywhere," he murmurs, opening eyes and focusing upon Alec. "Welcome to your birthright, lord."

Alec notes the fangs, but before he can comment, Sullivan finishes his assessment, and Alec makes a face as though he just bit into something rotten. "I'm no lord," he says. "But, uh, thanks, I suppose. That does confirm some things, I think. I'm just not sure who Rilga is."

"The fifth queen of Amber. And you are a Lord, sir -- what that means to you is a personal matter, but for myself, I like to think being a lord is being noble." Sullivan shrugs lightly, tipping his head to the side a moment and back, dark eyes searching. He indicates the man's scars. "They will eventually heal and fade away. So you must be either Caine, Julian or Gerard's son."

Alec shakes his head. "Titles don't mean anything to me, and I have no interest in suddenly adopting any now," he says. "And none of those three. My father is apparently Dirk, which gives me a much appreciated generation of breathing space between me and Caine."

"Aah, grandson then," Sullivan looks quite surprised though, in the end. "I really shouldn't be surprised at that. You have a sister, by the by. Masuki or some such, of the Calme valley. Half jadean." He lifts his wine again for a sip.

Alec nods. "I've met her before, but I didn't know we were related," he says. "And shouldn't be surprised? Do I seem like Caine? Or is it that I seem removed enough from Caine that being his grandson makes more sense? I'm hoping it's the latter..."

"Caine is... complicated," Sullivan replies, easily enough. "More the lack of surprise that you are Dirk's child. Only... you must be little more than twenty yourself, he's only in his forties."

Alec thinks a moment and then shrugs. "I wish I could say for sure, but I must be," he says. "My memory's not all here quite yet." He shifts his harp in his lap and then raises his right hand to tap one finger against his temple.

Sullivan's attention flicks to the temple-tap with a look of understanding "Ah, amnesiac. So you may not be Dirk's son then, but as close as to not make any difference." He muses on that, leaving it hanging like a lead baloon.

Alec shrugs. "Well, I now know for sure that I'm related to him, and he's claimed me as a son already and doesn't seem willing to take back his claim," he says. "I suppose that could only really be weird if I turn out to be his brother, but even then, I think I'd prefer to be considered his son." He pauses to take a drink. "I suppose the next step is to walk one of those patterns I've heard about."

"The pattern of Amber. If you walk the pattern of Rebma? POOF bye bye you." Sullivan murmurs this, but he does not appear to be joking. Not in the slightest. "And the pattern of Tir is broken," he licks his lip. "Are you ready for that trial though? It takes its toll on you, burns itself into your mind forever."

Alec's eyes widen slightly at the mention of the pattern of Rebma. "Ah... And here I was told that all patterns were equal... Well, alright then, the one in Amber it is," he says. He then sighs. "And yes. It's something I've been thinking about a lot. I was ready to do it even without the confirmation that I could, but no one was willing to take me. There...are things I want to learn, and I can't without walking it first."

"Who told you that bit of information? That could get people killed and needs to be corrected," Sullivan leans forward a little at this, looking concerned with what he's hearing. But the information regarding readiness has him lifting his eyebrows up and looking Alec over, down and up. "You simply do not know where it is then? I can take you there. I wonder if your father would want to watch you for moral support, though it's a thing you have to do alone."

"Er, Cat did," Alec says. "She's been pressuring me to try out a pattern before I had any evidence that I could, though. And yeah, my father would probably want to watch me walk it," he adds with a smile, "so I probably shouldn't do it right now. But until then, at least knowing where the thing is would be useful."

Sullivan arches eyebrows up. "Cat?" he blinks. "As in Catriona?"

Alec nods. "Yeah, her," he says. "And I know I shouldn't exactly be hanging around her, but we keep running into each other."

Sullivan nods to him. "Why a chaos tainted former Karm with not a drop of royal blood would think that she'd know, is beyond me." He shrugs to this, pressing his lips firm. "Unless she was trying to kill you, which is altogether possible..." there's a pause, musing. Thoughtful. "The pattern of Rebma was re-scribed by Fiona Helgrun, daughter of Oberon. Only those of her bloodline can walk it with absolute surety. I don't think any of her brothers' children or her brothers themselves have tested that. I know Brand has not." He looks Alec in the eye. "That was how prince Benedict committed suicide. He walked the pattern of Rebma and was consumed by it."

Maeghan enters from the southwest.

Maeghan has arrived.

It's early in the day and Sullivan is sat with Alec at a table, a glass of wine at hand for the one, whatever the other was drinking at the other. Sulli's staff is leaned against the table, the man a vision in red silks, expertly tailored and looking fresh faced and youthful once again.

Alec listens, concern settling into his features. "Ah," he says. "Well, I'm glad I talked to you before trying it, then." A harp rests across his lap, and his left hand is bandaged across the palm.

Sullivan nods, crossing his legs at the knee, the wine glass in his hand finished off with a flick of the wrist, lifted to the barman as a signal and set aside to be refilled. "Tir you cannot reach, unless at the full moon and even then, the city is like a maze. It takes study of the city in the sky, to be able to find your way to the pattern chamber there, which is broken anyway. And if a cloud covers the moon, you plummet through the floor to the mountainside below. Hazardous, no?" He smiles faintly, a little wickedly in truth. "The pattern of Amber is buried deep beneath the palace. None will stop you from entering there, nor from walking it... for if you're not of the blood, trying will kill you anyway."

The tavern door opens and admits a slender young woman with blackest hair and fairest skin. Maeghan steps into the Crown and Rose, a satchel slung over one shoulder. As she reaches the bar and pulls herself up onto a stool one can clearly see the fresh cream of the girl's arms is broken by a subtle rainbow of shades that winds around from elbow to the tops of her hands. "Some tea and a small sandwich please?" is the quiet request of the bartender.

Alec nods. "Cat made it sound like I needed an escort to get to the pattern and suggested that I talk to one of the princes. She suggested Gerard for helping me reach the one in Amber, which worked well enough for me since I needed to talk with him anyway. But now that I know I can go whenever I want, I suppose I'll just talk to Dirk about it."

Sullivan nods. "It's grueling; in a dream, I was carried over the pattern by Brand. It burned and seared and tried to destroy me even in a /dream/. I'm not a huge fan, but I do have respect for it," the tall man turns though, the scent of a woman a taste in the air perhaps and dark eyes settle on Maeghan, his expression lighting a little. "Child," he offers fondly over, eyes dropping to the tattoo patterning with a flicker of his tongue, then a broadening of smile. "It is good to see you, alive and well."

Glancing over her shoulder, Maeghan's face lights up "Lord Sullivan. It is a pleasure to see you." In a rustle of silk she slides off of the bar stool and makes her way towards the table. Like the pale man in red, the girl looks much better than when last they met - less wasted and happier, though there is a hint of darkness that remains in her gaze indicating one changed. Extending her arms, the design still is pink around the edges as if the tattoo was done fairly recently. Twin serpents of feather and scale adorn the flesh of Maeghan's forearms. These two fierce creatures hail from the realm of Cibola, their mythical representations marking this woman. The serpentine bodies wind their way down from below her elbows to twist with scintillating vitality around her wrists; the broad, viper heads on the back each hand displaying a maw of fangs as if poised to strike. Curling outwards, their red forked tongues are caught in stasis as they appear to sample the air. The twins' mouths yawn, dislocating wide and filled with nature's hypodermic needles, loaded with death and mental delusion. Those mouths draw the eye into a gateway of steamy jungle depths and perilous places of no return. Large serpent eyes stare forth, large and alert, seeing all - nothing escaping their notice. The thick, muscled bodies of the two creatures are overlapping, roughly keeled scales with long, thin feathers fanning out from behind the powerful jaws. The colors flow in subtle patterns from reds and oranges towards the cooler spectrum of blues and greens all with black banding. An interconnected tapestry of primal beauty, the feathered serpents proclaim for their Mistress: She is not to be trifled with. "Miss Ruby did them" the girl says simply. The artwork is primal and grim, at odds with the lavender scented young woman who seems to exhude a sweet innocence. "I like them. They are reminders. So, how are you my lord?"

Alec nods as he listens to Sullivan's dream. "I've been warned that it's not something to take lightly, that it's dangerous even with royal blood," he says. When Sullivan's attention turns to Maeghan, Alec turns as well, glancing over the tattoos.

Dirk walks into the room strutting a little. He's in a very good mood at the moment. He's humming a song and every now and then breaks into song as he sings "we all live in a yellow submarine,yellow submarine, yellow submarine, we all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine yellow submarine."

Sullivan's eyes travel the lines and patterns of the tattoos, studying them. In silence, he turns his pendant up to the light, lifting it free of the front of his tunic, that it may be clearly seen by both. The disk hangs from the curl of an elegant fingertip. (This pendant looks to be made of deep grey stone with a pearlescent sort of sheen to it. On its face, black snakes curve gracefully, twining with each other and making a hole atop the pendant through which a chain or cord may be threaded. The snakes tongues hold a glint of gold, their eyes green like tiny emeralds. Pale grey vines with a touch of green to them curl in between the snakes, through their loops and coils, and through each other.) He lowers it to his tunic front and nods slowly. "They are a good reminder. She does excellent work and I? I have been worse than I am now. Busy with finding answers, many of which I didn't want to consider. Still, no rest for the wicked and all..." he gestures from Maeghan to Alec. "Lady Maeghan Feldane, Alec. Alec, lady Maeghan if you have not already met." His dark eyes travel to the singing sailor with a nod. "Dirk..."

Dirk waves to Sullivan and walks up to Alec just to punch him in the shoulder hard. "Hey.....lo everybody. How are you all dong?"

"Well met," Alec says to Maeghan, but then he turns his attention to Dirk and rubs his arm where Dirk hits him. "I can't wait until you come up with a string of insults to greet me with instead," he says. "And I was just talking to Sullivan about walking the pattern. I was wondering if you'd want to come with me to watch. Also, I had a question about a location - and it might be abstract for all I know - but if it's real, I was thinking it might be in Arden. Exactly how well do you know the forest?"

About to reply to Sullivan, the young Feldane is distracted by Dirk. "What is a subermarine?" Looking back to the table, the girl curtsies "A pleasure Alec. I think we met once before, but it is nice to see you again." Regarding the pendant, Meg bends slightly to regard it before replying solomnly "It is always a scary thing when you go looking for answers, I am learning that most of the time that while you might need them you really don't want them." Straightening, the girl turns her head and looks out the tavern window for a long moment before returning her attention to the group with a pleasant smile.

Dirk says "Well Badgerboogerbreath is taken, give me an insult and if I think its ok I'll call you it. I only insult family. Of course If you go walk the pattern I want to come too."

"I am quite well, thank you Dirk, and you? You seem to be quite on top of the world," Sullivan sighs when the man doesn't wait for his answer and shakes his head with a chuckle, keeping his tongue with Alec's words, looking slow to Maeghan's face as his wine is refilled, brought to lips. "Usually the answers just lead to more questions and painful truths. Maturity tends to come with being able to handle them. And I'm also told, in aquiring rarified tastes and a conscience. I'm not sure about that last." Deadpan, he sips.

Dirk says "Caine and I talked, it went ok enough. I have a kid so I am happy." He looks to Meggers "A submarine is like a covered boat that sails underwater."

Alec grins. "What, did Moxon choose his insult? I'm surprised. And if he didn't, well then, I guess I'm honored." He pauses and then, "In Arden, there wouldn't happen to be some place where the trees find salt instead of water, is there?"

Dirk says, "I don't know."

"I am growing up like everyone has wanted, I don't like it much." Maeghan replies quietly to Sullivan before she glances towards Dirk as he answers her question "Oh, that sounds actually both scary and exciting. Does it have windows so you can see out or is it all closed up?"

A waitress comes by with the tray and asks, "Do you want me to wrap your sandwich up and put your tea in a thermos to go my lady? I know your shift at the hospital begins soon and I don't wish you to have to rush."

Dirk smiles "Its all closed up actually."

Sullivan looks over to Alec's odd question, lifting one brow to it, but he wasn't asked, looking back at Maeghan with a press of lips. "Hell's bells, you don't want to do that too quickly, just get wise. The day you can't toss a miniskirt on and some kinky boots and go do very silly things of an evening... well, what's the point? I really ought to do that again, at some point. Lovely little club in the clouds if I can remember how to get there..." he frowns at that, finishing his wine off and rises, taking his staff in hand. "Well, Alec... Dirk... congratulations. Maeghan? I think perhaps you might need to chitter chat at some point. You know where I live. Be brave. Come get stared at and have a trump painted."

Dirk stands "Have fun and be safe Sulli."

Alec nods. "Thanks for your help," he says. "I wouldn't mind talking more later."

"I would like that Sensai. It would be a special gift for my father." Maeghan's smile brightens and she gives a quick nod, "I will see you soon then." Glancing at the waitress she smiles "Thank you, I would appreciate that." Looking over at Dirk she adds, "Closed up? That is disappointing, it would be neat to see all of the fish." Eventually, the young woman cannot keep quiet any longer before turning to Alec "As far as I know, Arden does not have any brackish swamps with mangroves or other vegetation that might take up saltwater as opposed to fresh water. Water is essential to plant life, including trees but salt is the antithesis and is bad for the majority of plants including trees."

Sullivan inclines his head to Maeghan, lifting a hand to Dirk and offers a small smile to Alec. He doesn't bother to pay for the wine he drank, apparently it goes onto a tab of some kind. "Until then, then. And of course..." he calls over his shoulder. "The plants that live on salt," added as he goes through the door "have chaemotaxic qualities. It seems as if they do, but in truth, they have the power to move salt water and such to certain cells. But somewhere in shadow, there will indeed be a plant that thrives on salt itself." And out the door he goes.

Dirk says "You can take shallow submarine rides but those are different submarines than the yellow one that can go very deep. THe deeper the water the more pressure it has."

Sullivan walks towards the way up.

Sullivan has left.

Alec listens to Maeghan's explanation, then Sullivan's. "Huh," he says. "So that doesn't really get me any closer to figuring that out, then. And it still could easily be abstract or some metaphor or something. Hm." He leans back in his seat thoughtfully. "Well, thanks for the information."

"Why did you ask the question?" Maeghan asks as she goes to get her satchel from by the bar, looking over her shoulder at Alec. Taking the thermos and bag, she smiles her thanks to the bartender.

"I got my fortune told recently," Alec says, "and one of the lines had something to do with me finding my destiny in a place like that."

"Read fortunes can be notoriously unreliable, but I would suspect that it was some place in shadow or perhaps in Rebma which is under the sea." The girl's shoulders lift in a shrug, "Well, I must get to the hospital. It has been my recent experience that destiny and the future is always changing and is never just one thing only. It was pleasant seeing you both again."

Dirk offers Meggers a hug. "Hug me please?" How nothing changes in this world.

Alec nods. "Well, thanks either way," he says, and he doesn't look at all surprised at Dirk's request for a hug.

"Always Dirk" the girl replies with a grin. Setting her things down, Maeghan goes and wraps her arms around Dirk hugging him close "Congratulations that you found out you have a child? I met her, she is from Jade....lovely girl."

"Uh, different child, I think," Alec says. "Dirk, you may want to specify that you have children, in the plural."

Dirk laughs and hugs Meggers "Well Alec, do you want to tell her? I was letting you decide who gets the info."

Alec shakes his head. "I already said I don't mind people knowing." He pauses and then adds. "Just as a side note, though, Caine isn't people. He can stay in the dark."

Dirk says "Guess who is my son?" He hits Alec in the shoulder pretty hard to make the point.

"Seriously?!" Maeghan looks shocked, glancing at Dirk and then to Alec...the back to Dirk "You are his father? And you have more than one child?" Stunned, the girl just blinks as her words seem to fail her after that. Several moments pass and she just gives a shake of her head "I...well congratulations! I really need to get to the hospital, I don't want to be late for my shift...but...woah..."

Alec shoots Dirk a glare and rubs his arm again. "Keep that up and I'll put an end to all future siblings I might have by neutering you while you're in your cat form," he mutters. "Anyway, good seeing you again, Maeghan."

Dirk says "You can try Monkeyboy... THat's it that's the nickname. Monkeyboy, yep."

Taking up her satchel and to-go meal Maeghan flashes a smile and turns, leaving the tavern to go to work.

Maeghan walks towards the way out.

Maeghan has left.

Alec snorts. "Why the hell am I Monkeyboy?" he asks. "That doesn't even make any sense."

Dirk says "Why is Moxon BadgerBoogerbreath?"

Alec shrugs. "Because he's tough like a badger, I thought. His at least makes a little sense."

Dirk says, "then pick your own insulting nickname."

Alec says, "I will. Just give me some time to think up something." He leans back. "Anyway, when do you think I should walk the pattern? Sullivan confirmed that I can do it."

Dirk says "How did he do that?"

Alec shrugs. "Some test or another."

Dirk nods "Cool beans."

Alec nods. "It was a bit strange, but... still. The results also confirmed that you're probably father. But still. When do you think I should walk the pattern?"

Dirk says, "When ever you want to?”

Alec thinks for a moment. "As soon as possible," he says eventually. "I don't want to lose my nerve."

Dirk nods "Ok, Just let me know. Did I give you a trump of me?"

Alec shakes his head. "Not yet," he says.

RPG: Dirk offers to give you his Trump of Dirk.

Dirk pulls out a card and offers it to you.

RPG: You accept the Trump of Dirk offered by Dirk as alias 'Dirk'.

Alec takes the card. "Thanks," he says.

Dirk gets up and punches you in the shoulder "See you soon kiddo."

Alec ducks swiftly to the side. "I'm not letting you do that again," he says. "I'll trump you soon, though."

Dirk laughs "Be safe kiddo."

Dirk walks towards the way out.