(no subject)

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee (modestly dressed, no makeup except for eyeliner) comes downstairs, a paperback book in hand. He takes two folded notes from between the book's pages and leaves them with the Bar to be delivered to Abe no Seimei and Sinric. The notes both read:

I would greatly appreciate it if you could help a friend of mine who has lost his memory. Will you please advise? We will be in the bar; or if you miss us, please leave me a note and we can arrange a meeting.

Thank you!
-MC

Emcee then makes his way to a quiet corner booth to wait for Eric and/or the recipients of his notes.

The book he is reading is titled 1984.

Comments

[onceaviking]

Eric shows up a little later, looking cleaner but still just as rumpled as when he arrived.

His walk is hesitant, a far cry from his usual, arrogant swagger.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee occasionally looks up from his book to glance around the room. When he happens to spot Eric, he leans over and waves to get his attention.

(The usual Eric would have already known where he was sitting.)

[onceaviking]

Eric sees him and makes his way over, weaving in and out between other patrons.

"Hi," he says. And then he just - hovers?

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is seated closer to the wall, so there's enough room on the bench for Eric to sit beside him. He pats the seat.

"Come sit, darling," he says invitingly.

(The usual Eric would have just sprawled wherever he wanted.)

(Emcee can't help thinking of the usual Eric.)

[onceaviking]

Eric takes the offered seat,sitting down with his knees together and his hands folded in his lap.

"What are you doing?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford has to pass that way to let his dog outside, since he still can't do that at home. In a reversal from the first time he and Emcee crossed paths, Wilford's looking more than a little beaten up. The cuts are on their way to healing over, but the bruises are clear as day on his face, and the stiff way he moves suggests a broken rib or two.

He stops when he spots Emcee reading his book.

"There's a face I haven't seen in a while," he says.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee glances up from his book, almost startled by the greeting. And Wilford's appearance.

"Likewise," he says evenly, but he frowns up at him, eying the bruises on his face. "What happened to you?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Boxing."

Wilford finds a seat and eases into it. He's reaching the point where the pain has stopped being a distraction, and is just getting annoying and exhausting.

"Haven't seen you around in a while. What have you been hiding from?"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee blinks, an eyebrow rising. "I didn't know you were the pugilistic type," he says, marking his place in his book and closing it.

Wilford's question gives him pause. An uncomfortable one.

"I haven't been hiding." He looks down, picking at the corner of the books cover. "Just choosing not to be noticed."

[balancingminds]

Charles is moving slowly towards the fire when he spots Emcee though he almost misses him but feels his mind, "Emcee?"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee has been in a nearly constant state of stress, worry, and anxiety ever since he was shot, and though he doesn't always show it, it's all there simmering just beneath the surface.

He looks up from his book at the sound of his name. And when he sees Charles, he manages a smile, sincerely glad to see him.

"Charles, hallo, darling. How are you?"

[balancingminds]

"Not too bad. I'm enjoying having access to a door again as its nice to have a change of scene," He gets as close as he can, booths can be awkward, "Would you join me for a drink and tell me what's filling your time?"

[i_am_your_host]

"Ah, I would love to," he says, marking his place in his book and getting up. He moves a chair away from the nearest table so that Charles can fit in comfortably, and he joins him there, sitting across from him.

"I'm glad you're able to take a break now and then. As for myself, well-- I--"

His voice falters a little as blood and pain and gunfire flash through his mind.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gets the note and comes over to where Emcee is reading. "Hello, my mirror." He greets with a smile, kissing Emcee's cheek. "How can I help?"

{ooc: happy to tag with both when you're ready.}

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee glances up from his book, and there's noticeable relief in his expression when he sees Sinric.

"Darling, hallo," he greets him, returning the kiss and gesturing for him to sit across from him. "I'm glad you received my note. Something has happened to Eric, and since I've no knowledge of magic, perhaps you might know what to do."

[thewidewideworld]

"Someone has managed to hurt the Serpent?" He asks, a touch surprised but open to helping. "What can I do?"

[i_am_your_host]

"He is no longer a serpent," Emcee says, sadder than he intends to, but he can't help it. "I don't know what you can do, but-- his memories have been erased. He cannot recall a single thing about his life or who he really is. Perhaps you can-- I don't know, search for his thread? See what happened to him? Or what will become of him? I know how much of an effort it is for you and I might be asking too much..."

[yinyangwizard]

Emcee is about half an hour into the book when Seimei comes by. He's dressed today in a black-and-grey winter kimono. "Emcee-san! I got your note," he says with a bow. "If your friend comes by, I will do what I can to help with his problem."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is drawn out of his reading by the greeting, and he is relieved to see him as he gets to his feet to graciously return the bow.

"Thank you so much, Abe-san," he says, inviting him to sit across the table from him.

"Eric is here; he has only gone to the Bar to fetch himself some sustenance." A pause. "It's Eric Northman--the vampire."

This...may have important bearing on what Seimei might or might not be able to do.

[yinyangwizard]

Seimei nods. He knows Eric by reputation if nothing else. "That may complicate matters. If he is like the vampires at home, then the older he is, the more potential complications there will be."

It has to do with the sheer volume of memories that centuries-old beings accumulate, and how they settle and shift over time.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee frowns a little, though he didn't expect this to be an easy thing to figure out.

"He is over a thousand years old. As far as I can tell, he can only remember flashes of moments from his life as a human, and nothing else until the present. Also, his personality is-- greatly changed."

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine is considering just setting the morning's last two cinnamon rolls aside for herself (>_>), but she notices Emcee sitting at his corner booth and thinks better of it. She hasn't seen him in quite a while, since they were in the infirmary together, and things have been happening.

"Hey you," she greets with a smile, approaching with a plate carrying the last two cinnamon rolls. Emcee looks better than the last time she saw him (though she supposes that wouldn't be difficult), but she knows the road to non-physical recovery is much longer than the road of physical healing. "Care for a cinnamon roll and some company?"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee lifts his eyes from his book, the scent of cinnamon rolls reaching him before Rae's greeting. And he smiles at her approach, very glad to see her after a rather self-imposed semi-isolation.

"Why, Miss Sunshine, thank you, I would be absolutely delighted," he says warmly, gesturing to the empty seat across the table. "Oh, goodness, it's been a while since I've had one of your baked goods. I do believe it's high time."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Absolutely high time, then," Sunshine agrees with a grin, taking the seat across from him and setting the plate on the table between them. "How have you been? You're definitely looking better than when I last saw you."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee marks his place in the book and sets it aside, away from the impending mess of gooey icing.

"Oh, I've been--" He shrugs lightly and tips his head from side to side as he begins to slowly tear a bite-sized piece off a cinnamon roll. "--fine? Well. You know. Lately I have indeed felt better, enough to spend more time out of my room and not mired in the depths of an existential gloom."

That went dark quickly! But he smiles self-deprecatingly and pops the morsel into his mouth.