[Log] Nothing runs smooth

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Eavesdown Docks, Persephone
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Charley Wong is sitting on the ramp of the Pearl, cleaning her nails, thoughtfully.


Tyr is stepping off of the O'Malley with Sai, chatting amiably with her. "So where is it you were looking to head, Sai?" he wonders. "You said there was some bar to go to or somethin'?"


Saienne nods a response to Tyr, cramming on her broad-brimmed hat as she tramps down the ramp from the Grace's cargo bay. "There's a bar," she says, somewhat gruffly, "An' I was plannin' on makin' a drop an' all." She pats the leather satchel slung over her shoulder and smiles a crooked smile. "Might as well make use of our time on Persephone, ain't it so?"


Charley Wong tucks the nailfile away, and looks up, to consider the others. She nods, vaguely, to the others.


"Might as well," agrees Tyr with a nod of his head as he falls into step alongside her. "Want to make the drop first and then get some liquid refreshment for the two of us?"


"If it ain't the bearer of peaches," Saienne says amicably as she nods in the direction of Charley and waves a quick wave. "Evenin'!" She turns back to Tyr and, squinting in the later afternoon sun, nods an agreement. "It ain't likely to take me long," she says, "An' I'd be glad of the company, to be straight an' true with you."


Charley Wong grins, "Yep. Not got one just yet. But I may yet find the seller before I move on."


Tyr laughs. "Well, I wouldn't mind some company either, Sai. Wouldn't mind it much at all." He ducks his head slightly in a little bow. He then glances over when she talks to Charley.


"Good luck with that, an' all," Sai says to Charley, as she leaves the cargo ramp for the dust and dirt of Eavesdown itself. Without the benefit of elevated height, she soon becomes more or less lost in the crowd - only her floppy brimmed hat marking her out from the other figures and faces all about. She turns to wait for Tyr to catch her up, and - once he has - she starts to walk off towards the Spacers' district.


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Spacers' District, Persephone
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Tyr makes his way into the spacers district, looking round occasionally. He's not used to such seedy areas, but then again, he has Sai here with him.


Saienne, on the other hand, looks like she might have been born here - contrary to the evidence suggested by her broad Boros accent and her slightly paraochial manner. She strolls between the parts and maintenence shops, skirting round the seedier bars, and scans the area as if looking for something - or someone. "So," she says to Tyr, pursing her lips slightly. "How're you findin' life on the Grace? What with all the zippin' around - an' the dancin' an' all - I do believe I ain't had the chance to ask you."


Tyr chuckles at that. "Aw," he says. "I'm loving it, Sai. I mean, it's just keen, if you ask me. Lots of nice people and three squares a day and a bunk. What else can I ask for?" he wonders.


Saienne reaches up a long-fingered hand to scritch at the stubble on the back of her head - but is intercepted by the presence of her hat and decides, instead, to tug on the brim. "Well, ain't that the truth," she responds to Tyr. "It surely ain't a bad deal." She ambles to a stop, standing on the pavement opposite the entrance to Largo's Motel. "We're lookin' for a tall gentleman," she advises Tyr. "Broad an' tall an' with blond hair up in spikes." She glances up and down the street.


"I'll keep an eye out," promises Tyr, looking up and down the street for someone fitting that description. "Do you like it over on the Grace? You're kinda like me. Just a cargo hand, I guess. Not that there's anything wrong with that."


Saienne regards Tyr solemnly for a moment with cool, dark eyes. "Tyr," she says, finally, and with a lop-sided smile, "I am entirely like you an' there surely ain't a thing in the 'Verse wrong with that." She shrugs. "We're just makin' our way is all, like all these folk -" she waves her hand at the other people in the street "- 'cept we got lucky an' landed ourselves a mighty fine job into the bargain." As she waves her hand, she has her back to the half of the street that leads up the hill and into town. Anyone looking in that direction would maybe see a tall, broad man with blond hair, spiked messily, walking down towards Eavesdown.


Tyr laughs at that. "Well," says Tyr. "I was surprised the Cap'n would take pity on a day cargo hand, but I sure 'preciated it. You just out here alone now?" he asks. "Seems like there's a lot of couples on the ship, thought you got that --" He gestures vaguely to the band on her finger but is cut off mid thought. "Hey. There."


Saienne holds her hand out in front of her and peers at the silver ring as if she is seeing it for the first time. "Hell no!" she exclaims. "Maxwell an' Hatch an' Kael are already spoken for an' -" a pause and somewhat of a grimace "- can you really see me an' Bishop gettin' all friendly-like?" She nods at Tyr's comment about Aradia. "She's a good woman, the Captain, ain't she?" Sai lets her hand drop and she tucks it, ring and all, into her pocket. "Darlin'," she drawls, grinning crookedly, "I ain't never been anythin' but alone." His final comment is returned with a slight frown from Saienne and she peers at him a moment before catching on. "Oh," she says, turning around to scan the street. "Where? Oh, there." She catches sight of the blond man and waits for him to come a little closer.


Tyr gives her a little quirked smile in return, but then, oh, look, their 'mark' is approaching. So Tyr tries to look serious and business-like, waiting for him to come on up.


"Gong de tian, Finley," Saienne says to the blond man as he steps up to her. She holds out a hand for him to shake, and he does so, pulling her into a rather masculine embrace into the bargain. "You lookin' taller an' haler every time I see you." She grins crookedly at the man and steps back out of his way, gesturing to Tyr with her hand. "This here's Tyr, comin' along to keep me company. Tyr, meet Finley - a real old friend an' a gentleman to boot."


Tyr offers his hand. "Good 'ta meet you, Finely," he says, giving him a firm shake if the hand is accepted. "Not doin' all too much," he jokes. "Jus' keeping Sai out of trouble."


Fin rumbles a low laugh back at Tyr and grabs his hand with much the same enthusiasm he grabbed Saienne's. "Keeping Miss Olaeno out of trouble?" he asks, curiously. "I do not believe such a thing is possible." Sai makes a face at Finley, and shakes her head. "Don't you believe a gorram word he says, Tyr. Bein' a gentleman don't mean he ain't a first class lier an' all." She speaks with a grin, and pulls her battered PDA out of her pocket. She clicks it on and taps a few things onto the screen. "Now, Fin, we're wantin' to keep this short an' sweet, if you don't mind. Tyr an' me have an appointment with a good bottle of single malt."


"Lady tells the truth," says Tyr with a nod of his head, though there is a moment of, 'I thought it was just going to be beer' in his facial expression. "So we might as well make it right snappy."


Fin looks between Tyr and Saienne with a skeptical expression on his face. "She does, at that," he says, and smiles gently. "Always been your downfall, that." There is a pause, and he nods. "Well and good, Sai, if you've got the goods I've got the thumbprint." Sai nods an agreement to Fin and starts to unlace her satchel with one hand. She makes a face and turns to Tyr. "Here, hold this will you?" she asks, thrusting the blue-glowing PDA in his direction. She continues to unlace the satchel and then to root around inside for whatever it is Fin is waiting for.


Tyr takes the PDA in his hands, nodding slightly. He glances down, curious, but doesn't seem to say or have much to say with all of this. After all, he's just along for the drinks, not the business.


The PDA, its screen glowing an eerie blue, has the details of the transaction showing and an oval area big enough to take a thumbprint underneath. Saienne finally pulls out a little black lacquered box from her satchel. It has Chinese letters written on in red paint. She holds it out to Fin but does not give it to him yet. "You satisfied?" she asks, and Fin peers at the little box a moment before nodding. Saienne looks sideways at Tyr, and smiles lop-sidedly. "You can give him the PDA now an' he'll sign for this." She waves the box in front of Tyr. "An' then we'll get on to the drinks."


Tyr takes the PDA and passes it over. "Drinks sound good," agrees Tyr with a small smile, waiting for the signature on the PDA.


"Just one last thing before you go, Fin," Saienne asks her friend once the business has been successfully transacted - the box relinquished, the thumbprint accepted, the PDA stowed. "You heard anythin' from Xiao-Chen recently? I been lookin' for her for -" she pauses, counting up the time that has elapsed "- well, hell, it's been more than a month now. I ain't heard hide nor hair of her since I last left Persephone - an' we got some loose ends to tie up, if you follow my meanin'." Fin, to his credit, does not let much of his lack of composure show in his body language. In the end, it is his facial expression that gives him away. "I haven't," he says, stiffly. "And, Sai," he adds, with an element of urgency, "You'd do well not to bandy that name about here." And, so saying, Finley steps off the pavement and walks swiftly back up the road towards the heart of the city - without so much as a by your leave. Saienne stares after him for a moment, her frown deepening as time passes, and then she turns back to Tyr, to regard him with somewhat of a surprised expression. "Well." Is all she says.


Tyr turns towards Sai for a moment and then back towards Fin and then towards Sai. "Well," he says, apparently deciding not to ask the question that might be on his mind. "We should get something to drink."


Saienne does scritch the back of her head this time - taking her hat off to do so. The sun floods in where the shadow was, illuminating her face and her expression. It is one of confusion and doubt and it is underpinned by a dark frown. "Somethin' to drink," she says, a little absently. "Of course." She looks the street up and down and says, quietly. "Well, we got the Dregs or the Retreat. Ain't much between them, if you ask me, unless you got a particular hankerin' for a lean steak."


Tyr shrugs his shoulders in a helpless sort of way. "Well," says Tyr. "You know this place a little bit better than I do, I reckon, Sai, so how about you go ahead and pick for us?"


"I reckon the Retreat, then," says Saienne, and she crams her floppy hat back on her head. Her face is lost again in shadow. "For some reason, I really ain't hungry." She steps off the pavement, then, to cross the road and enter the Captain's Retreat.