The Blackstone Hotel, Keswick, England.

[DrPeterson]

Exeter mostly ignores the bartender and looks up at the new arrival, smiling a welcoming smile.
"Well, well another lady for the Lord", he thought, "and another one without manners! How exciting these country bumpkins were proving to be!"

"Please be seated!", he grinned jovially at the already seated Rosa and went on, " I am Hilary, Viscount Exeter and I am here by chance, if such can be called so to see one end in so ghastly a place."

[Priest]

Helen gives the new arrival a black look, Another one no doubt a member of the upper classes from her lack of manners.

At the obvious insult from the Count, or whatever title he assumed, she almost retorted angrilly, but managed to bite back the insult that rose to her lips. Instead she favoured him with a sickly smile as her eyes watched the bad tempered waiter fetching an carrying.
"I am an artist of some reputation. Perhaps you have heard my name?" she then stares down her nose at him like he was some nasty insect who had just crawled onto her dinner plate from a lettuce as she allows the smoke from her diminisheing cigarette drift towards him, "But I doubt it" From his soft upper class manner, she doubted that he knew one end of a brush from the other. To him art would be little more than some overweight female flashing naked flesh at the admirer. She doubted very much that he would know anything about surrealism, and she was not about to explain to the ignorant.

In reply to the newcomer she simply snorts an agreement, as she picks up her refrehed glass, swirls the contents momentarilly before taking a rather large sip of the Gin and Tonic, I shall have to tell him to put less tonic next time, still at least he hasn't foisted a lump of that insipid lemon on me this time.

[Abdul Alhazred]

Realising that his chances of finishing his novel have disappeared, at least for a while, the barman walks to the radio at the end of the bar and tunes it to the BBC.

The light music programme is playing Fred Astaire singing 'Cheek to cheek', although pehaps due to the weather the reception is poor with static cutting across the programme.

[DrPeterson]

Exeter sips his Pimm's as he mulls over Helen's word. A sudden flash of insight brightens his features and he puts down his glass with a dramatic bang.

"You're Helen Long, the Helen Long!", he laughs, somewhat more genuine this time. "Although I must admit to being more of a romanticist myself, I have some affection for that little Belgian René Magritte. Marvellous fellow, that! Yes, marvellous!"


He lights another cigarette and let's out a long puff of smoke.

"I like what you did with that trout, although I felt the composition to be a little dramatic. A bit too much Max Ernst in my opinion."

OOC:,I'm going to deplete my Art pool for that statement ;)

[Priest]

Helen takes the last puff on her cigarette then pulls the butt from her holder and drops it, still glowing, in a nearby ashtray. Perhaps, she thinks, this 'Son of the Empire' isn't as thick as he looks. She shrugs and favours Hills with a more friendly smile.
"Yes the 'Trout', or 'Scales on a riverbank' to give it its proper title, was not my best work. But with what I've seen on offer around this dismal place..." She lets the sentence hang unfinished.
With deliberate movement she reloads the cigarette holder holding forth the finished article to the count for lighting, while staring, pointedly, at her almost empty glass.

Having decided that her recognition by Hillary has put her in a much better mood, she speaks, without looking around to the uninvited table guest, "So, who are you?"

[Abdul Alhazred]

He lights another cigarette and let's out a long puff of smoke.

"I like what you did with that trout, although I felt the composition to be a little dramatic. A bit too much Max Ernst in my opinion."

OOC:,I'm going to deplete my Art pool for that statement ;)

Note on Spends,Nice roleplaying, but don't worry about the spend point. In this instance I'd say your ability in Art would give sufficient knowledge to have heard of Helen (and certainly Surrealism). Of course, if you really wanted to impress and say you'd met Magritte over dinner, [i]that[/i] would need a spend!

[Philulhu]

"Rosa Parkes," replies Rosa briskly. "I deal in antiques so I'm here for antique fair, see if I can't pick up a few bargains."

She looked at Long, even though the other woman was patently ignoring her. "Surrealism, eh? Not really my sort of thing and I don't get much call for it at the gallery, but I dare say it's popular among a certain clientele."

[Priest]

Helen gives a derisive laugh, "Antiques? I dare say you will find quite a few here, and a lot in this very hotel" She spends a moment looking at the hotel furnishings, "Shabby shic I imagine they would call it, but then I suppose you would know all about that darling" She looks Rosa up and down in a fashion critique sort of way.
Looking at the oddly fizing liquid in Rosa's glass, "Whatever are you drinking? Oh do tell me its not ginger pop, that's so very... 'British'"

[Philulhu]

"That's because I am British," Rosa replied. "Aren't you? Besides, ginger beer was one of papa's favourites - he used to make his own."

Rosa glanced around the room, appraising the items on the walls.

[Priest]

Helen smirks, "Gosh"
Bored with the conversation and in need of a refill she rises from her seat and makes her way to the bar where a lone customer sips beer from a pint glass. Catching the eye of the barman she finishes her drink in one last swallow and places the empty glass before him, "Another G&T but be less overbearing with the tonic this time" she turns toward the lone drinker her cigarette in its holder still unlit clenched between her lips, "Light?"
At least over here by the bar she was away from the wind rattled window and the boring 'ginger beer' drinking woman who had thrust herself on her company.

[bzr101]

Jonesy quickly enters back of the Blackstone Hotel as fast as he can. No one has ever said Jonesy would let a meal slip by.
"Thanks G'uvner! It's a tad cool and wet outside tonight and I could use a meal."
After entering the hotel, Jonesy takes stock of himself, adjusts his "scruffy attire" and stands up straight.
" 'Ere I am on the road towards Liverpool looking for a position, when a grifter separated me from me polk. I shoulda known better! Me mum always warned me about folks like that. Where can I sit G'uvner?"

At the rear of the hotel, the door opens and out wafts the stale smell of cabbages, along with the sickly sweet odour of cooked meat.
A sweating and overweight man in a greasy cooks apron and chef's hat looks at Jonesy, taking in his scruffy attire.
"I don't have much for you chum, but I'm guessing you're after something to eat?
Well, hurry up and step inside before I get soaked, and I'll find you a few leftovers.
God knows you'll need it on a night like tonight."

[Fabio Silva]

Pedro appears at the bar room door, singing Cheek to Cheek. He sees her jacket and tries to clean up a bit dust on his trousers. "This place is phenomenal!" he thinks wryly. His hair, his impeccable dress and posture reveal a lot about his character. For him, wherever he is, he is not only the owner of the room, but also of all who reside in it. So as usual he tries to be a friendly, but assertive.

He speaks without looking at anyone in particular, but while keeping watch on everyone in the room "Nothing like a new place, new people and a phenomenal culture to put a man in a good mood!". He smiles. His foreign accent is evident.

He looks around and then says "Good choice barman, this is a beautiful song! Ah, do not give up reading! A good book enlivens the spirit!" Looking at bottles in the background, he smiles and says, "And a good drink enlivens the body! Prepare the best drink you have!".

Looking at the woman next to the bar asking for a light,he deftly handles the lighter in the pockets of his jacket and offers one to the lady. "The best light in the region..."

Looking towards the table which seems to host a little meeting, he speaks with a vibrant voice "Exeter! A sad day for endless possibilities! Introduce me your new friends!"

[DrPeterson]

Exeter downs the last of his Pimm's as he listens to the exchange between the two ladies, enraptured by their uncouth manner.
He takes Rosa's hand and offers her a floating kiss.

"Charmed, charmed indeed! I used to read archaeology at Cambridge, you know, marvellous place that!"

He looks up as Pedro calls his name and exclaims for the entire room to hear:
"Finado, you old cock! Glad to see you're awake, hey? You're missing all the fun with all that dozing around!"

"This is fine lady here is Rosa Parkes and the one at the bar is Helen Long, she's covered in paint because she's surreal and all that! I don't know the quiet chap at all.", he barks an incredibly upper-class laugh.
"Such a reunion requires more drinks! Come Helen, bring your friend and have him sit at our table and come barkeep, bring us a few bottles of your finest bubbles! And don't complain, with everyone sat at my table, you'll have less work and can get back to that book you're so engrossed in!"

[Abdul Alhazred]

As Rosa glances around she notices the slightly odd collection of photographs on the wall near to the bar. They seem mostly to be of local dignitaries but one catches her eye, although if asked she couldn't say why, at least not at this distance.

As she looks, a young couple enter the bar, closely followed by an older man in his early sixties. All are dripping wet, and seem to be locals the friendly way that they're greeted by the barman.

[Abdul Alhazred]

In the kitchen, the chef brings Jonesy a plate of overdone cabbage, cold potatoes and a scrap of cheese.

"Don't you go telling all your mates about this mind, I don't want all and sundry coming here every day. On a night like tonight though it wouldn't be decent to send you away empty handed.

Now, you can't stay here, I've got to clean up, and the dining room is getting laid ready for tomorrow's breakfast service. Pop through that door into the bar and park yourself in a quiet corner."

[Philulhu]

"She's rather rude, isn't she?" said Rosa, glancing at Exeter and taking a sip of her ginger beer. "But then I've met her type before. Some artists can be terrible bores if you don't like their work. Each to their own and all that doesn't cut much ice with them."

Setting her glass down on the table in front of her, Rosa excused herself and went to take a closer look at the photograph that had caught her eye.

[bzr101]

In the kitchen, the chef brings Jonesy a plate of overdone cabbage, cold potatoes and a scrap of cheese.

"Don't you go telling all your mates about this mind, I don't want all and sundry coming here every day. On a night like tonight though it wouldn't be decent to send you away empty handed.

Now, you can't stay here, I've got to clean up, and the dining room is getting laid ready for tomorrow's breakfast service. Pop through that door into the bar and park yourself in a quiet corner."

Jonesy willingly accepts the plate, looks for and finds a knife and fork, then moves towards the door to the bar.
"I'll not utter a word about your kindness, G'uvner to a livin soul. Though, I will include you in me prayers tonight.", he say over his shoulder to the chef.
Jonesy enters the bar and looks around for "a quiet corner". He thinks, "If only I can get a drink and a smoke, this will be keen. Maybe some other good fortune might happen tonight."

He locates a table across from the bar itself and near the door way to the kitchen. It is dimly lit, dry and warm. He puts down his plate and "settles" into one of the chairs at the table and begins to eat. After savoring a mouthful of the cabbage Jonesy begins to look around and listen to the conversations.

[Priest]

Helen looks up at the loud foreigner, whatever observation she was about to make lost amidst the sudden appearance of a lighter.
Muttering "Thanks" almost inaudibly she waited as the tall well dressed foreigner, who in her opinion, had to much oil on his hair moved towards the table, her table, where a grinning 'count' behaving in a manner worthy of one of PG Woodhouse's characters was inviting all and sundry to join him.

She snorted loudly, fixed her gaze at the barman who seemed far to slow to service her request, and tapped her glass impatiently.
"When you are ready"
To the beer drinking gentleman at the bar beside her she added, in a stage whisper loud enough to carry around the entire room, "That's the trouble with these damned uncivilised parts, its hard to find mentaly capable staff"

[Abdul Alhazred]

Overhearing Helen's comment the older newcomer mutters to himself something largely inaudible, aside from the fact it concerned "bloody out-of-towners, throwing their bloody weight around".

Meanwhile the barman mixes the requested gin and tonic and places it before Helen as if nothing had been said. "Sorry for the wait madam."

Turning back to the old man the barman says a cheerier "The usual Percy? Awful night out there, looks like winter is on it's way proper now.", and getting a nod he pulls a pint of bitter, half of which Percy knocks back immediately.

[Abdul Alhazred]

Rosa walks closer to the photograph that's caught her eye. It's one of many on the wall, all framed and some with captions or descriptions.

For Rosa Only,As you near the photograph you see it's a family group of two parents and six children, one of whom is what has caught your eye. The girl looks remarkably, almost uncannily, like you did when you were young. Here though, the child is a year or two younger than any photographs you have ever seen of yourself. [url=http://imageshack.us/photo/my-images/268/bh38.jpg/][img]http://img268.imageshack.us/img268/3326/bh38.jpg[/img][/url]