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Erik Samuelson:
Kostas is an institution in Fishtown, a well-loved and long-lived bar and restaurant that served a variety of Greek food options alongside their beers and cocktails. On this particular evening Erik had claimed a seat at the bar, still in his chef whites with his knife roll slung over the back of his chair, eyeing the menu as he took a sip from the bourbon and Coke he'd received from the bartender on his last pass down the bar. The Bound seemed to be in good spirits by all telling, his spectral companion out of sight at the moment.
Yllka Qosja:
A fair bit of the time Yllka is accompanied by one or more of the members of her gang. They can be protective, and no matter how capable she is of taking care of herself, Yllka still looks like a particularly skinny teenage girl. They way they figure it, sometimes them being around is going to prevent problems from happening even if she's fully capable of dealing with them. She views it as a sign of their care and concern, and not as an insult, and tolerates it well.
Sometimes she needs a little time to herself, though. It's why she's alone when she enters tonight, coming in with the scent of cigarette smoke on the air around her and with the feeling of her liminal aura coming well in advance of her arrival.
Even without the Geist hanging around her, she's still clearly a Sin-Eater and also wearing three readily visible mementos: a rosary with the Deep Waters key, a locket with the Grave Dirt, and what looks like a whistle hanging from a third chain around her neck with the key of Beasts.
Erik Samuelson:
The sensation of the approaching Bound tore Erik's attention from the menu, scanning the crowd for the possible source. As Yllka emerged he gave her a quick once-over, eyebrows climbing up at the mementos on her person before offering a nod, motioning towards the stool beside him if she so wished to join him.
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka's expression had been fairly blank when she came in, but when she and Erik spot each other and he invites her over there's something kind of like the hint of a smile at the corners of her lips. It actually reaches her eyes more than it shows on her mouth, but that's harder to see at a distance.
She heads across the room toward him, pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket, and puts the box on the bar as she sits down. Tonight she's in black jeans and a white tank top. She takes a moment to settle herself on the stool, then extends a hand and speaks in a accented English, "my name is Yllka. Thank you for the invitation."
Erik Samuelson:
"No problem." He replied, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake, the motion well-practiced. "Erik, good to meet you. Don't think I've seen you around before, new in town or just been doing your own thing?"
Yllka Qosja:
The bartender doesn't take very long to spot the new arrival and the cigarettes on the bar, which requires him to drift over to take orders, for one thing, but also to remind Yllka that she can't smoke in here. For the former matter she asks if they have rakı, which they do not, so she asks for a whiskey sour. As to the latter, she assures him she doesn't plan to smoke, she just didn't want to sit on the cigarettes.
Back to the main conversation.
"You haven't," she says. "I've been in town a few months, but I've been busy establishing some things." She points her index and middle fingers toward the northeast, thumb cocked upward like a gun. "I spend most of my time in Port Richmond." All in all her English is very good, nearly fluent, but with a notable accent. Albanian, if anyone happens to be able to identify that. "Is this your..." she stops to think of the phrase. "Throat of the woods? Or is it neck? I always end up second guessing myself on that one."
Erik Samuelson:
"Gotcha. Born and raised here myself." He nodded, smiling a touch at the almost-right turn of phrase. "Neck, in this case, and yeah. Bounce between here and Old Town where I work, along with some garden-tending on the north side of town. You?"
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka actually smiles back. "Neck. I'd say I'll remember for next time, but I'll probably end up second guessing it again." Her head shakes and her hand reaches for her drink when the bartender drops it off. She slides over a credit card to open a tab and returns the conversation.
"I think Philly will be home for a while Maybe some time in New York on business. I'm originally from Kosovo, by way of a few places on the way." She takes a sip and puts the glass back down, but keeps her left hand on it, where she turns it slowly while she looks him up and down. "Are you a chef?"
Erik Samuelson:
"Ah hah...was trying to place the accent but wasn't quite sure." He nodded, taking a sip of his drink before answering. "I am, yeah. Currently the head chef at Fork down in Old Town, been there for a couple years now."
Rachael Jaeger:
Rachel, in contrast, is accompanied by the looming form of her armored companion. The Horned Knight stalks behind their lithe little charge as she slips into the bar with a whistled folk tune on her lips.
Rachel Jaeger is that sort of wire-thin, tight muscled white dyke you see in all the Tumblr posts with hundreds of thousands of notes. Despite the weather she's wearing a beanie over a splash of straw-colored hair, and wearing a low-cut tank and torn jeans. It's a common enough sight on the internet, but all the same. The level of Dykiness is eye-catching in meatspace.
Her tune drops as she catches sight of the mementos, clancing at the pair of seated Bound before hopping over to the bar and ordering a cheap, shitty beer.
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka answers Erik without missing a beat, even as her head turns and her eyes track Rachel and the Horned Knight as they cross the room to the bar. She does this with a little lift of her chin Rachel's way, a silent hello, and then keeps tracking with her eyes, at least, until things get to a point where she'd have to twist her head around to keep following or something. She could do that, but if she started wrapping herself in the Caul right here and now there might be some problems.
"Albanian," she explains relevant to the accent. "By way of a couple of other languages before English," she adds, in a bit of an echo of her previous statement about places she's been. "Is that Fork Down as the name of the restaurant, or Fork, which is located down in Old Town? Either way I've never been. Would I be under-dressed there?"
Erik Samuelson:
Keen-eyed as he was Rachel's entrance with her armored spectral companion didn't go unmissed, watching her for a bit as she wove her way to the bar before giving a nod and motioning to the other seat beside him to invite her over as well. "What are the chances..." He said more to himself than Yllka, chuckling before he answered her question.
"Gotcha. I speak German and enough Spanish to hold my own with some of the other chefs myself. And located in Old Town, in this case. The lunch crowd tends to be more casual, so you'd probably be alright on that front."
Rachael Jaeger:
Rachel slides over towards the pair of Bound with beer in hand, and slips into an empty seat. Her companion doesn't follow quite so quickly, preferring to remain sentinel beside the bar's entrance, giving enough distance to allow some privacy.
"What are the odds, right?" She flashes a crooked grin, and then tips back her yuengling. "Rachel. Sorry. Hope this seat wasn't taken."
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka thinks about that question before she says, "before it happened, pretty slim. Now that it happened, one in one." She allows herself a flicker of a smile. She pushes her stool back a little so that she can better see both Rachel and Erik. "Yllka," she introduces herself. "It wasn't taken, and now it is. Nice to meet you. It was about time I started meeting more locals anyway."
Erik Samuelson:
"Erik, good to meet you. Nice to see a few more folks around and active; haven't run into anyone else on our side in a while."
Rachael Jaeger:
"Honestly? I've been here since I was a child, and for as long as I've been aware, our sort tend to keep mostly to themselves. Which suits me just fine, I never was much of a joiner anyway." She offers a little shrug. "All the same, it is nice. Much as I can talk to other sorts of folks, it's good to meet people who Get It."
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka holds up one hand and tilts it side to side. "That depends on the person, in my experience. I was in a Krewe for a while before I came here, but there are some things I had to come take care of, and I'm not likely to go back to Europe any time soon, so it was time to break away." She takes a drink from her whiskey sour and then deposits it on the bar.
Erik Samuelson:
"Same, born and raised here. I got put through the 101 by some other folks here after things happened, but been doing my own thing for the most part since and started working with the wider community about a year and a half ago."
Rachael Jaeger:
"Yeah, that tracks. Been meeting a ton of Europeans lately for some reason. I dunno what it is about Philly but I've met a broader swath of folks in the past year or so than I have in most of my life combined." There's a little puff of laughter, and she pulls from her beer.
"You folk are pretty much the first Bound I've met in ages. Do you mostly hang with... uhh. Other groups, or?"
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka shrugs about the Europeans. "If there's some coordinated European influx I missed the memo," she says with her Albanian accented English. "I came here because it turned out my partner and I both had reason to be here, at least for now." She looks back and forth between the two. "I haven't been here for very long. Maybe six months? I've been busy getting myself situated, so I haven't spent much time making friends outside of my neighborhood." Bodies? Yes. Friends? No.
Erik Samuelson:
"For the most part, yeah. I've run into folks from a few different groups at the diner and haven't butted heads with anyone as of yet." Cue a quick knock on the wooden bar for good measure. "It's a pretty unique set up from what I've heard, a lot more cross-pollinating than in other places."
Rachael Jaeger:
"I believe the proper terminology for a "coordinated European influx" is a colony." A ghostly flicker of snark crosses Rachel's lips before she registers what Yllka had said. "... huh. That's... rough... buddy?"
"Well! I've been spending most of my time around a handful of Night Owls and they seem pretty alright even if they're from the other side of the river styx."
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka's mouth opens, then it seems like she's listening to something nobody else can hear, only to nod like that's all the answer that unheard sound required. "Yes," she says. "I'm not here intending to be part of any colonization efforts." For some reason it sounds like the distinction is important to her. "Possibly the opposite in some senses. It's complicated. If I understand whta you mean about night owls, and I might not since English was my fourth language, I met one of them a few nights ago."
Erik Samuelson:
The pause made Erik eye Yllka curiously for a moment before nodding at her answer. "I've run into one that I know of, along with a couple of their 'assistants', shall we say."
Rachael Jaeger:
"Don't worry, I think we're a couple hundred years too late for that here. The deed is done, unfortunately, and given that you're, like, what? Nineteen? There's no way you could've been a part of it." Rachel turns to look back at the Knight, who meets her gaze with the implacable mask of a full greathelm.
"... oh yeah? Who'd you two meet? Maybe I know 'em!"
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka smiles engimaticaly. "I think what's left of the original locals might say that process is still ongoing. That by being here, we're taking our small part in it." The way she's speaking when she says that is a little off, even from her normal accent and everything, a bit like someone is whispering in her ear at the same time she's trying to talk.
Something that might be familiar to other Bound, of course.
"But enough of that topic. Her name was Leila, the woman I met. She was reading in a cemetery when I stopped by to visit a few graves."
Erik Samuelson:
"True enough." He nodded to Yllka, mulling the name given over for a moment before shaking his head. "Haven't run into her yet. I've met a Vincent Drake, along with his partner Maria and friend Valerie on the 'assistant' front."
Yllka Qosja:
The expression that comes over Yllka's face at mention of the assistants suggests both that she knows what Erik is referring to, as well as just how little she approves. It's the expressional equivalent of sharpening her knives. "You don't say," she says in a dangerously mild tone of voice.
Erik Samuelson:
That shift in tone didn't go unnoticed, with the Bound giving Yllka a cautious nod. "I know for Valeria it was a 'she might have joined us' situation, for what that's worth. Not a fan of that sort of thing either, of course."
Rachael Jaeger:
"As I understand it, that whole community plays by a very interesting set of rules and restrictions. I won't begin to understand the extent of it, but it is very much not what it is elsewhere, apparently. Which is good. I doubt I'd like who I met if I'd met them elsewhere."
Yllka Qosja:
"I'll reserve judgement for now," Yllka says hesitantly, like she doesn't particularly want to, and it's a concession on her part. "I haven't liked a lot of those I've met elsewhere, with their particular views on terms of employment, but I do try to take people as individuals, not as a whole." She picks up her drink and downs the rest of it. "Usually,," she adds.
Erik Samuelson:
"Understandable. From what I've heard it's a less draconian type of employment here, but they would be the best ones to talk to on that front."
"All in all, though," he continued, taking a sip of his drink, "the folks I've talked to here have been pretty solid. I've run into a few other folks that work with the vitality-challenged as well."
Rachael Jaeger:
"Hmm. I don't know much about the employment situation. I've lived here my whole life, death and re-life." Rachel offers a shrug. "... is it really that bad elsewhere?"
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka glances around them, just a quick check like she's curious how much attention anyone is paying to them. "Like I said, usually I try to take people as individuals. Some of the individuals view it as their right to enslave people, which I take issue with. The idea that because they can, it's their right to."
Erik Samuelson:
"From what I've heard the various communities are a lot more walled off than here, not as much mingling and sharing of information. I know a few big issues have been or are being handled by mixed groups, though, so I'd say we're doing something right."
Rachael Jaeger:
"Ahh," Rachel frowns. "That, at least, bodes well. Diverse coalitions tend to get shit done, and they're a good sign... but. Still."
There's a pause, and she tips her beer back once again. "Big fuckin' oof to that. Thankfully I haven't met anyone who believes that shit here."
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka nods, but at the same time she shrugs. "We'll see," is all she offers on the topic. She came back from the dead for the express purpose of killing people who enslave other people, so it's a touchy subject for her.
She points off toward the northeast. "I've got a plate up in Port Richmond, a former hotel that I've acquired. We've got a bar, serve food, all that. We don't really put up signs, but there are people in the neighborhood who can tell you where to find the Shepherd's Rest if you ask around. Especially if you see anyone wearing Albanian eagles."
Erik Samuelson:
"Will keep that it mind." Erik nodded, making a mental note to look up that particular sort of eagle later. "Always look for a good reason to go to new places in town."
Yllka Qosja:
"Let people know you were invited by Yllka if anyone gives you grief," Yllka adds with a shrug, like ultimately she suspects they will at least ask questions. "We don't tend to get a lot of random people coming in off the street."
Erik Samuelson:
"Will do, and I imagine not." Erik nodded, taking a moment to polish off his drink. "Is there a particular time that's better to come by?"
Yllka Qosja:
Yllka shrugs. "I'm not much of a morning person," she says. She raises a hand to get the bartender's attention, gets an indication he'll be over shortly, and gives Erik her attention again. "Whenever, though. You don't only have to come by to talk to me, but it's somewhere we'd be able to talk about things less obliquely."
Erik Samuelson:
"True enough. Have you been by the diner yet, on that note? Decent place to talk shop and meet others, and the food is very good."
Yllka Qosja:
"I have. What is the deal with portion sizes in America, by the way?" Yllka shows another hint of a smile. "You're a chef, maybe you can explain it."
Erik Samuelson:
"A very valid question." He replied with a chuckle. "From how I've heard it put, it's the idea that the customer feels like they're getting their money's worth with a larger amount of food. I could never get behind that myself, personally, both from a potential food waste angle and because if the meal's good enough it doesn't need to be that grand of a portion."
Yllka Qosja:
"At so many places I can get multiple meals out of a dish." Yllka's head shakes. "Which is fine, but takes some getting used to." She stands up. "I should get going, or I'll have a bunch of people start getting worried about me." She slides a two cards out of her pocket, one for each of the others, with her contact info. "Nice meeting you both."
Erik Samuelson:
Erik accepted the offered card, looking it over before pocketing it. "It was good meeting you as well. Have a good one."
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