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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Fanog" data-source="post: 907984" data-attributes="member: 10680">Bad Albert's Tap and GrillSeattle, Washingtonfriday night, October 2002Charles Arctor's travels had brought him to Seattle, Washington of all places. So here he was at a small bar, bearing the dreadful name of "Bad Albert's Tap and Grill." It was said that the place had been named after the owner's cat.The place itself wasn't as bad as its name implied, though. Friday night was open stage, and the owner was a pretty good fellow. If he liked your performance, and the crowd did as well, you could usually get by on free drinks for the rest of the evening.Charles' performance had been quite good that evening, and the drinks promised to be equally plentiful. He sat at a table, and listened to the others performers. They were of varying quality, to say the least... He had talked with several people over the course of the evening. Some just gave their compliments, others spilled their entire life's story over him. He had that kind of effect on people.Charles saw a man rising up from his chair and walking over to him. He had seen the man earlier while he was playing, sitting alone at a table and listening intently to his songs. He seemed almost proud at something. The man was oriental-looking and had short hair that was grayed, almost white. He looked rather out of place in the dark pub, dressed in his stylish suit. As the man arrived at Arctor's table, he tried to get his attention, speaking with quite a bit of accent."Hello, Mister Arctor. I wanted to compliment you on your play. You really know how to get to the hearts of people. Most extraordinary. Could I please sit with you and talk for a while? I have heard a lot about you, and would like to ask you some things... "OoC: Charles</blockquote>

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