Color code 766359 Location: Bloodmarket Row then Abandon Warehouse Time: Just before sunset into dusk Speaking with: Randoms mostly. Mentions: @Oso Dom
"Nah nah nah, mate, there is just no way. Fuck off with that price. I thought we were here to make a deal!" Lucian said, in a calm, raspy voice. The boxes stacked haphazardly behind the man sitting across from him. "You know how hard I had to work to get all these? Directly from Cuba no less! The fucking embargo, the fucking tariffs, fighting the Coastguard. All that costs money man. Lost a few good men doing all that too! The price is to compensate their mothers, for a son lost. You wouldn't say no to that, would ya? Even you wolves had mothers, right? The stubby, gruff man said.
The air around the table shifted slightly. The man's goons patted slightly to their left and right, showing their unease at what their boss just said. Especially considering where they were. One of them, out of the three, even had the audacity to graze his palm over the pistol tucked away in his waistband. Just like the two-bit gangster wannabe he is...
Lucian blinked slowly, facial expression unchanging. A small, guttural growl did escape his throat. "Bartholomew. Please have care of what you speak...My boys here, they're not as...controlled... as myself... The man sitting acrossing would look up and see the two newbloods standing behind Lucian, with their kuttes on, letting out a slight snarl with a twitch of their cheeks. "I will accept a 50% discount on the previously agreed upon price for your...indiscretions... Lucian extended a hand across the table, claws retracting back under his nail bed as he did so. "F-fine...But we need to talk about a new price..." the man said, amidst a swallow of saliva. Lucian grasped the man's hand firmly and shook it. "Certainly. We can do that. Let me know when you'd like to speak again... His icy blue gaze never leave the man's own.
Releasing the now-sweaty hand, Lucian turned to the two newbloods behind him "Boys, check the boxes, get our labels on them, and get them back to the Cracked Fang." The newbloods got to work, doing what Lucian told them to. A low chime rang out from Lucian's pocket and he picks up the call...
"Yeah. What? What? Slow down. Where? Ok. Tell him I'll be right there. Turning to the barkeep, Lucian barked out, perhaps more harshly than he would normally "Yeah. Hey! Give me a fresh bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. I'll come settle the price later! The barkeep hesitantly handed Lucian the unopened bottle of blended scotch. Lucian whirled around to face the newbloods and the black market trader "Boys, crack one of the boxes open for me then get the rest box to the Fang. On the double. Barty, we'll talk. Lucian swiped a few brown, tubular items from one of the cracked boxes and gave both of the newbloods a quick pat on the shoulder.
With that, he stormed out of the dingy bar, and approached his Triumph Rocket Storm, with the Iron's symbol hand-painted onto the chassis. Foregoing his helmet, as he typically does, he turned the machine over and it roared to life obediently. With one twist of the throttle, Lucian sped off into the rain, scotch bottle in hand.
Upon arrival, Lucian parked his motorcycle as quickly but safely as he can and hopped off. Shaking off some rain from his hair, he walked towards Dominic, gripping the bottle of scotch...
• Name | Lucian Shelby • Nickname(s) | Lukas, Claws, 'The Merciless', 'The Bag Man' • Age | Appears to be in his early 20s • Gender | Male • Birthday | Feb 17th • Race | Pureblood Lycan • Rank/Status | -
• Height | 6'5" • Build | Athletic, broad-shouldered, well-defined muscles from training, fighting and general Lycan physiology • Eye Color | Icy Blue • Hair Color & Style | black, with a textured crop with a disconnected undercut - 'Peaky Blinders cut' • Skin Tone | Sun-kissed • Notable Marks | Numerous scars from previous fights, some have very notable scar tissue while others look old and is the same color as his skin at this point. Numerous tattoos, mainly on his arms and back • Typical Clothing Style | Dark toned clothing. Generally t-shirt and jeans. Though, he has been known to dress up for special events and have been commented to 'clean up well'
• Aura/First Impression | Quiet, measured, reserved, but with a subtle rage and wildness. This has been reined in compared to his 'younger' years. • Voice | Low, baritone, soft but not without a sense of harshness needed to survive the streets
• Openness to Friendship (1-5) | 5 • Openness to Romance (1-5) | 3 • Romantic Preferences | Let's see how this plays out • Current Romantic Interests | None • View on Forbidden Relationships | It's fine • Biggest Turn-ons | ✦ Loyalty ✦ Sass ✦ Independence • Biggest Turn-offs | ✦ Clinginess ✦ Deceitfulness ✦ Someone that disapproves of what he does • Known Friends | He has many acquaintances, but he only considered Dominic Blackmoor as his friend • Known Enemies | Those who would do harm to his pack • Known Family | Dominic Blackmoor, loosely
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
• Hobbies/Interests | ✦ People-watching ✦ Cooking ✦ Training • Likes | ✦ Live Music - Specifically Jazz ✦ Fine Whiskey ✦ Classic Car • Dislikes | ✦ Disloyalty ✦ Over - Or - Under seasoned foods ✦ Newly turned vampires • Fears | ✦ Fae Magic ✦ Being betrayed or left behind by the pack ✦ Losing control or becoming his former self • Habits | ✦ He will sort of pinch his right index finger and thumb together under his lower lip when in thought or contemplation ✦ When annoyed, he will crook his lips up just slightly on the right side and suck a small, sharp breath though his teeth and make a 'tsk' sound ✦ He will take on an even more sullen appearance when angered • Vices | ✦ Whiskey ✦ Fast cars ✦ A cigar
Core Motivation
Redemption above all. He spent decades of his life being a lone wolf, doing whatever needed done to survive. He wants to redeem himself to a pack, to show that he can exist within the right structures. He wants to right wrongs. He is not above utilizing his former connections to achieving his newfound purpose
Personality Overview
Lukas is quiet, reserved and measured. He was not always this way. In his younger years, he was rash, quick to violence and isn't above dirty tactics. He essentially used to behave like a low level street thug, because that is what he was. As he grew older, and became more integrated into the pack, he learned that he does not have to always outwardly show his intentions, using intimidation tactics or resort to violence to achieve his goals. He isn't so serious that he cannot find his humor. He still enjoys a good joke and still likes to have a good time. Where he used to be boisterous, he is now measured. Where he would have resorted to violence, he will now save that as the last option.
Background ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
• Current Occupation | Part Hunter - Part Warrior. He does Dom would ask him to do • Level of Schooling | Minimal, but the streets taught him how to survive • Past Occupations | Black market savant • Socioeconomic Status | Middle-Class? If such a thing exists within a pack • History Summary | Lucian was born into a prominent Lycan family, local to Halcyon. Sure, there were rumblings about how his family accumulated their wealth and status, that they made deals with the fae to propel themselves forward, ahead of their peers. Lucian didn't care. He knew that his family loved each other, and they had everything they needed as their own pack.
In other senses, Lucian's childhood was as normal as any lycan child can be. He attended the local school, did decent. Played sports with his peers, did pretty well. Attended social gatherings with his peers, and aside from a few scraps, did ok. That's it. He enjoyed a fairly normal early stage of life, by lycan standards.
Then. One day, he came home to the surprise of his parents and saw that they had a guest over. His mother ushered him into his room, and would not answer any questions he had regarding the meeting. Of course, Lucian got curious and pressed his ears to the door as hard as he could to glean as much information as he could on the conversation.
"Sure, we will..." "But that's..." "How will..." "Yes, you can...." "But, please..." "I don't...."
All he got were fragments, and they did not sound good.
Then he heard his name called, by a voice that sounded both like and unlike his mothers. It was as if her voice was filtered through a wet bath towel. Without hesitation, he pushed his bedroom door open and rushed down the stairs.
The scene in front of him was...gruesome... He saw his mother dead on the ground, a jagged, uneven, cut to her throat and her blood smeared around her, showing that the cut was certainly not clean and she struggled with her dying breath. His father was in arguably worse shape. He was transformed into his full Lycan form, but his eyes were glazed over, losing their usual luster. The strange man from before had a silver chain wrapped around his father's neck, and the smell of burning flesh emanated where his father's neck met the metal. His father was much larger than he usually was, being transformed, but still not big enough for another adult to be standing on top of him. However, the strange man seemed like he was floating above his father, chain in hand and a grotesque smile on his face.
With the same smile, the strange man took out several vials from his coat. Each vial held a silver-y liquid but each tinged with different colors. Methodically, he jammed each vial into seemingly random spots on his father's body. With each vial, his father's form became more and more bloated and twisted. The sound of flesh rending and bone crunching will never be erased from Lucian's mind for as long as he shall live. Finally, with the last vial, the strange man gave the now distorted body of Lucian's father a jerk and a twist so that the father and son would come face to face. Lucian swears that he saw a singular tear fall from his father's face. With the same sadistic face that he had on the whole time, the strange man gave the silver chains a forceful tug and severed the head of the malformed wolf in the most twisted manner.
Thunk
Lucian had fallen on his behind long ago. He wasn't sure if the sound came from the strange man leaping down from where he stood of his father's distorted head hitting the floor. Lucian began to crawl towards the lifeless bodies of his parents, too stunned to even feel the rage boiling within him.
The strange man approached him and lithely bent down. "The faes sends our regards..." Was all Lucian hear before he felt a searing pain drag across his back. The pain broke him from his stupor and allowed the rage to take over. However, with inhuman speed, the strange man had faded into the mist, leaving a broken Lucian to rampage through his broken home and the streets around him.
Lucian blinked, and tried to get a sense of his bearings. His clothes are bloodied and torn, and he was not home anymore. He searched his memories and all he found was his father's distorted form and his mother's slit throat. He stumbled to his feet, using the grimy wall next to him for support and took a few steps before falling to his knees again. Some hoodlums in the area approached him, whispering and chatting among themselves. He was still in the Lycan-dominated part of town, and the hoodlums approached cautiously. Lucian flashed his claws, and the hoodlums did the same. They found, Lucian was beaten. But he won. The two hoodlums scrambled off. Lucian stripped the clothes off of the fallen hoodlum and changed into it. They fit surprisingly well...
That's how Lucian lived for the next few years, fighting off offenders, and trading his youth and brawl for survival. After a few years, he made a reputation for himself and even had a small following of younger Lycan's around him, propping him up to some kind of tough underground guy.
Then, he ventured into Bloodmarket Row after hearing about some 'cool shit' being traded there from one of his underlings. He was nearly thrown out on his first visit, not knowing the rules of the land. He was never one to just give up after a failure. So he went back, several times. He never had the kind of money to buy some of the more illicit goods available, but he was able to trade, barter and buy some of the more mundane things on offer. Small arms, blades, and other 'tools of the trade' were all common buys from Lucian. That was his ticket and 'membership pass' to the black market. He didn't know it, but the vendors took him as a fool that would pay elevated prices for their mundane goods.
During this era of his life, he saw the ones around him that were part of packs. The stability they had, the support they had. He craved it. He remembers how it felt being supports by like-minded people. Sure, the people around him now are 'like-minded' but he also knew these people would leave him in the dust at their earliest convenience. Lucian's worth to them were solely about what he can provide for them and for the time being that meant the conveniences brought about by violence and intimidation.
Through grapevines, he hears about the Iron Fangs. That's a name he recognizes from his life before the strange man. He starts talking to his crew about pack-life, asking about their thoughts and feelings around being in a pack. Some of the more self-interested people around him vehemently rejected pack structure, preferring to operate on their own. Lucian understood. However, some of these people openly confronted him about this, thinking that he had 'gone soft'. Lucian did not like being challenged like this. He tried his best to dissuade the dissidents with words. But, as always with Lucian, things turn violent very quickly. Depending in perspective, one can say Lucian was never calm about it. He may have been provocative even.
Regardless. The issue was settled. Lucian would go meet with the Alpha of the Iron Fangs and hear his words and decide for himself what he wants. Those that wants to keep following him can do so. Those that didn't were in for a fight with Lucian, then they can decide what they want for themselves...
Race-Specific Questions ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
✦ Fill the relevant section (Vampire, Lycan, Fae, Warden)
▸ Lycans ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
• Born or Turned? (Most are born. It is rare an alpha turns someone.) | Born • Reaction to Full Moon | Vastly increased bloodlust, claws will not be able to be retracted once extended, eye color changes from icy blue to a muddled blue-black as soon as he sees the full moon • Pack Loyalty Level | Loyal • Views on Mortals | He follows his pack leader and will protect the mortals when needed • Views on Vampires | Neutral, but will generally steer away from them unless a deal needs to be made • Views on Fae | Distrusts, and will avoid them as much as Lycan-ly possible
Miscellaneous ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
• Theme Song | Hotel California - Eagles • Favorite Food | A good steak, cooked to the rare side of medium rare • Favorite Animal(s) | Peregrine Hawks • Favorite Music Genre | Jazz • Favorite Haunt | Changes between The Gutterbane, Bloodmarket Row and Ink and Iron • Signature Weapon | A katana, among other various small-arms • Preferred Vices | Old whiskey • Pet Peeve | Not looking at someone while talking to them • Guilty Pleasure | Having a cigar, watching the sunset
A servant dashed past, footsteps quiet but sure. Checking once again to make sure she was not followed, she expertly opened the door to Mina's room. Once in, she made sure to not disturb any of her surroundings as she approached the desk. She paid no attention to the state of the room, and whatever contents it held. She had one objective. Just the one task. Get it done and her family will be rich beyond their wildest dreams. From inside her servant's tunic, she took out a small parcel, wrapped in plain cloth but fastened with a familiar golden scorpion brooch.
The servant quickly made her exit, leaving the room as it was before she made her way in.
When Mina would eventually open the parcel, she would find nothing but slightly tarnished signet ring and a small piece of plain parchment with only a few words on it.
Nate nodded lightly when Andres ordered a high ball. Given that it is still early in the evening, Nate naturally reached for an easy sipping whisky, The Hakushu 18 year, and set it aside. Then he pulled out a high ball glass and gently dropped in a crystal clear ice spear. Twirling the ice in the glass, Nate allowed the glass to chill with proper timing. After the glass was chilled to his liking, he used the bar spoon to hold the ice in while tipping back out the melt-off from the bottle of the glass, in an effort to not further dilute the taste of the whisky and carbonation of the water he will be using. As he gently uncorked the bottle, he quietly listened to the three guests that sat at his bar. Pouring a portion of the whisky into the glass, he allowed the liquor a few seconds to chill down slightly and for the ice to melt into water, and the water to open up the full flavor profile of the liquor. Moments later, Nate expertly opened the tin cap of the bottle of carbonated water and added it to the high ball glass. The liquid combination fizzed and the brown of the whisky turned into a pleasant gradient, fading from amber to clear. Setting the glass down on a wooden coaster, Nate gently slid the felt-lined coaster towards Andres. "Your high ball, sir. Please enjoy." Nate ended his words with a smile, before beginning immediately working on Cori's order.
Setting his shaker down on the counter, Nate reached for a few large cubes of ice and chipped them into the shaker, allowing the irregular pieces of ice to fall in. Reaching for his bottle of Hennessy V.S.O.P., the poured the required portion into his iced shaker. Then, he followed that up with a pour of the required portion of his choice of orange liqueur, Grand Marnier to be exact. Allowing a few seconds for the liquors to chill down, he reached for his long-stemmed cocktail glass and also cut a lemon in half. Using his citrus press, he juiced the lemon directly into the shaker before capping the shaker and using it for it's intended propose. The satisfying clanging of the ice against the stainless steel shaker filled the space between the conversations of his guests. Pouring out the content, Nate slid a similar wooden coaster towards Cori, "Senora Cori, your sidecar. Please enjoy." Nate ended his words with a smile.
After that, he started cleaning and clearing his workstation, preparing himself for the next round of orders...
The crew of Side Car were in full swing. The tiny crew of three anyways. Nate manned the bar, as he typically does. There were few patrons yet, this early in the evening. Surely they would file in later. Or so Nate was hoping. To be honest, there has been thoughts of changing up how his conducted business for his bar. Doing away with the exclusivity and just changing it to fit in with the vibes of the islands. Inclusivity isn't what Nate feared. It's more so becoming mundane. Having his dream bar become just another island tourist bar is the last thing he wants...
Just has he was picking up and polishing a stainless steel shaker, a familiar sight walked in. "Ah. Brother. Welcome." Nate offered Walls a warm greeting. "While I do appreciate the offer of a drink with a friend, I am alas at work still. However, that is not to say I cannot have a small tipple... Nate said with a slight smirk. He set down the shaker and pulled out two double old-fashioned glasses. "Spiced rum. Interesting choice for the evening. I presume you'd still prefer it neat? Or how was it that you took your drink? I do have a new tincture I've been working on. It is a mix of nutmeg, cinnamon and lemongrass to lighten everything. I think it'd go well with a spiced rum and it's fermented sweetness..." Nate said, as he produced a dasher bottle filled with a clear brown liquid. "One or two dashes should do. Of course, I welcome any feedback you may have from this. Now, allow me." Nate continued as he gently but expertly opened the bottle that his friend had brought in and poured the pair about two finger's worth of the spiced liquor into the aforementioned glasses and added two dashes of his own tincture into it. It was at this moment that he noticed another guest had walked in. This one was not so familiar, but that is perfectly ok. He set his glass down under the counter and noticed that one of his staff had approached the new guest that arrived.
"Good evening, welcome to Side Car. Here is a menu for the evening. As for recommendations, we can heartily recommend the Sidecar, as it is our namesake. Please feel free to take a moment to look over the menu and one of us will be with you shortly for your order." the staff member said then quickly made their exit to return to what they were working on before. Nate quietly observed the interaction, trying to glean some information about the guest, in order to accurately recommend a drink for him. After a small moment, Nate approached. " Good evening, welcome to Side Car. Do you have any questions on the cocktails or do you know what I can make for you?
As Nate waited for a reply from the guest, he noticed a red glow, making the warm lighting in his establishment glow ever warmer. Of course, being the well-trained bartender, Nate did not leave his current guest by himself since he has not told him if he needed more time or given him his order. Nate simply allowed the woman to approach the bar and take her seat among his two other guests.
As soon as she has taken a seat, however, Nate did offer her his customary warm greeting. "Señora Flores. Welcome. how may I be of service this evening?" Nate said as he waited for the orders of his guests while continuing to try to find little mannerisms and external clues that can help him craft the drink that his guests will like.
D2BE76 Interactions: Jericho @BigPapaBelial Location: Sunny Side Cafe/Side Car Bar
Nate was alone in his empty bar room, meticulously polishing glassware and making sure each glass went where they were supposed to go. The evening staff have not arrived yet, but they should be filtering in shortly to begin their prep work for the night. The room, having only six counter seats and four booths designed to host four patrons each, was designed and appointed with comfort and a certain sense of nostalgia in mind. Sure, there is more room to squeeze in a few more guests here and there. But that's not what Nate wanted.
Moving on from polishing glassware, Nate began wiping off the bottles of liquor that lined the mantle behind the counter. Each bottle showing some use and having been sealed with a specialty cap from the night before. Nate made sure each bottle was clean and presentable, with their labels facing the guests as to make their selection process just that little bit easier. Mr. Ueno always made sure that Nate understood the importance of simplify things for the guest but remaining unbiased in his craft.
The crew for the evening, miraculously, all arrived together and on time. Punctuality was important to Nate, but he was more lax with his colleagues. "Good evening folks. The usual for everyone, please. Thank you." Simple words, said directly but obviously without malice. The team quietly shuffled throughout the small room, setting their belongings away and beginning 'their' tasks prior to opening.
"Business has been slower recently, given the recent events on the island. Folks weren't in a super festive mood. However, with Azul Days coming up, I'd expect tourism to pick up right where it left off and come back strong. I know you guys are all very capable at handling this, but let's continue to be mindful and meticulous in our work as we always have been." Nate continued, utilizing his usual method of conducting a meeting. None of the team members stopped what they were doing to listen to Nate. That is not to say they were not paying attention to him. They heard his words loud and clear. Nate does not expect them to stop what they were doing to listen to him and his ramblings.
One of the workers turned on the music to an agreeable volume and the sound of piano began circulating the small room. Nate nodded softly as he began wiping down the polished wood bar. Azul Days usually means a booming tourism session, and with that comes booming business. Nate idly, but still carefully, wiped down the bar, while his mind wandered over to ordering supplies for both the cafe and the bar. Thinking about what he needs, might need, or want to add, Nate took a small pause as he wrung out the towel he was using and surveyed the room. Each team member diligently working on their task whether it's setting up the chairs at the bar, dusting off the booths and adding little bits of water to the plants in their pots. Nate offered himself a small smile. Mr. Ueno would be happy to see that he is doing so well...
Checking his watch, there is about 30 minutes before the first guests typically arrive. His bar isn't the usual rowdy sort. Yes, he catered to tourists, especially the ones that found their way to his cafe in the morning hours. But this bar offered a different vibe. Not so much the typical island vibe, laid back and free. This is to be an elevated experience, akin to the high class bars one would find tucked away in Ginza, Tokyo.
"Alright folks, 30 minutes to open. Lets finish up and be ready for the guests. Again. Thank you for everything you do, and let's have a great night."
Simple. To the point. Just like the drinks on offer at his bar. As soon as he was finished with his words, he took out his cellphone and sent a message to a friend.
"Walls. What are you up to this evening? Still want to come by and chat? You know you have a permanent tab and family discount here ;) I'll even let your bring your own beer since I don't serve beer here"
Name: Naoya 'Nathaniel' Tanaka Nickname: Nate Age: 35 Gender: Male Occupation: Owner of the Sunny Side Cafe/Side Car Bar on Isla Zafrio/Barista/Batender
Appearance: Nate is of Asian descent, standing at about 6 feet tall, with a athletic build. Dark of hair, he has blue eyes that comes from the European side of his family. During the day, Nate can be seen behind the bar at the Sunny Side Cafe, making coffee, pulling espressos and chatting with the patrons. Typically, he wears a blue suit with a white shirt and an apron while at work. When not at work, his sense of dress is more relaxed, opting for linen slacks, light dress shirts and pairs of loafers to match. He does have some tattoos, mostly covered during work by the sleeves of his usual attire, except for the ones on his forearms when he has he sleeves rolled up.
Character Concept: Nate was not born in Islas Azul. He moved to the islands after finishing his education in Japan. On the surface, he is just the friendly neighborhood cafe owner that likes to chat with the patrons and makes a killer cup of joe in the morning. He is also quite the accomplished bartender when his cafe transfers into a sort of a speakeasy that bucks the trend of the typical tourist pub. That is not to say his establishment does not welcome tourists. In reality, his establishment is mainly geared towards the ones that visit the islands but do not want to go where everyone seemingly is already going. Every other club is blasting loud music, doing two-for-one specials, trying to attract visitors that are looking for a cheap thrill. His establishment, he decided, would turn that trend on it's head. He did away with the flashy neon lights, and the massive queue right in the front of the bar. Instead, he would occasionally slip a card to random patrons throughout the morning, letting them know that there is a bar behind the counter, through what appeared to be a standard storage room, and down a couple of flights of stairs.
Character History: Nate was born, and grew up in Japan, to a strict family. Dad worked and supported the family, Mom stayed home and raised the kids. That's the way a family is structured, or so Nate was taught. Nate was not given many opportunities to explore his own hobbies and passions. His father thought of those things as unnecessary wastes of time. His only job, his father would often say, is to get good grades in school, and land a lucrative job. Getting married and having children were also expected of him. His life was not his own, as his father had a hand in everything and interfered whenever Nate tried to do something that did not fit his father's plan.
At home, Nate had to walk on eggshells. One misstep, and his father's wrath would be felt by not only himself, but his mother as well. His father would blame any mistake that Nate had as a misdoing by his mother as well. Punishment were usually verbal, but at times it had been physical as well. In any case, this made Nate hyper-aware of his surroundings and the moods of the people around him. He learned to observe quietly, and to put up a jovial facade in order to keep himself out of the path of his father.
While at school, he picked up the habit of visiting a small bar near his college. He got to know the owner of the establishment, Mr. Ueno. Through their frequent conversations, Nate learned that Mr. Ueno used to be a world-class bartender, having won prestigious competitions both domestically and abroad. This only served to pique Nate's interest in bartending and mixology as a whole.
Of course, his father did not support this habit. His father drank, frequently. But, his thoughts about drinking stopped at "Men should drink either whisky, or beer." nothing else. The idea of Nate making a living as a bartender simply did not make sense to his father. "Ah, that's shit. What? You're going to stand behind the bar and shake a metal cup for some other man? Are you a sissy? Nonsense. I forbid it." Nate vividly remembered his father saying to him.
Undeterred, Nate continued to visit Mr. Ueno whenever he can. Step by step, Nate learned the subtle art of asking poignant questions, observing the body language and visual ques his patrons may give him. This continued on for weeks, and then months. He technically did not lie to his father. He told him that he had extracurricular activities after school and that he would be coming home late sometimes. He would make his way to Mr. Ueno's bar as soon as his classes were finished, sometimes during prep time for the pub.
Eventually, Mr. Ueno asked about why Nate was spending so much time at the pub, sometimes even during off-hours. Nate would answer truthfully. That he wanted to be a bartender after school. Mr. Ueno simply nodded and carried on with his own prep work. This back and forth would go on to evolve into Mr. Ueno asking, more so telling in actuality, Nate to complete some of the prep work for him. His excuse would always be something along the lines of "I'm an old man, you young'ns should do more to help us older folks." or "You're just paying for the food I'm going to give you later on. Go on, get to work!"
Slowly, Mr. Ueno would ask Nate to mix him a drink or two before the pub opened. It started with simple drinks like whisky highball, gimlet or Aperol spritz. Of course, he would lace constructive criticism into actual insults. "This glass isn't cold enough! You need to ice the cup longer, at least another 30 seconds!", "Too much simple syrup! I can hardly taste the gin at this point. Find the balance! The balance!", "Ah this shit is just plain bad, why are you wasting my product? Go remake me another one! This time, get it right!" were some common criticism Mr. Ueno would throw at Nate.
This continued for the majority of the last few years of Nate's college education. Unpaid training with Mr. Ueno, and unrelenting pressure at home to stay on top of his school work and land a good corporate job so he can start building his future. On the day of his graduation, the first words from his father were not congratulatory in nature. "Ok. Now that you're done with school, and I'm done paying for it, where are you going to work? The local financial advisory firm? Or are you going into medicine? Perhaps you're starting at a law firm?" This simply goes to show how much attention his father paid him while he was in school. He listed off the three typical fields Asian parents want their kids to work in. Finance, medical, and law. How original.
"Well, dad, if you paid any attention, you would know what I did not study medicine, or law. Yes, I studied finance, but I am not going into that shit field that work their people to the bones and then work them some more. No. Mr. Ueno offered me a job as a bartender at his pub. Thats where I'm going."
His father found those words both incredulous and amusing. Never has Nate talk back to him this way. "Nonsense. No son of mine will work in some dingy bar, shaking drinks for tips. No. You're joining the local financial firm. I don't care if you start by sweeping their floors. As long as you work in the building, you can tell others that you work for them." Nate took in a deep breath, gave a filial bow to his mother. "I am moving out. I don't want anything to do with you. I've already packed my bags. Mom has known for a while now. Yes, she did not tell you about it. No, I will not change my mind. Good bye father, mother. Thank you for everything. I would say that I will visit, but I don't assume you'd want me to." He said. His father was incensed. He wanted to yell at Nate. However, realizing that they were in public, and he has his image to uphold, all he said was "This is your fault. You did not raise this boy well. I gave you two everything you needed, and then some. Look at what has happened." in a rage-filled, but hushed, voice. His mother paid her husband no mind and simply walked up to Nate, giving him a hug. "Best of luck son. You're always welcome at home. I will miss you. I will come visit you." His father turned to face his wife, stunned. "Nonsense. He is not welcome under my roof. You will not visit him anywhere." in the same hushed voice as before. "I will visit him where and when I choose. You no longer control me. I will not divorce you. Nor will I accept a divorce proposal from you. Not because I love you. But because I do not want you to remarry and ruin another woman."
From then on, Nate stayed at the pub, building a small nook for himself in one of the back rooms. Mr. Ueno had learned about the family dynamic of Nate's family through their numerous conversations. He does not charge Nate rent, "As long as you don't make bad drinks and lose all of my customers. That's good enough for me." he would say. For a while, Mr. Ueno took on an advisory/mentor role, as Nate took over the bartending duties. This continued on until Mr. Ueno decided to retire and simply let Nate continue running the business as if it was his own. Nate understands how much of a boost this was to his career. Nate made sure he continued to make payments to Mr. Ueno all the way until he passed away, 5 years after he retired.
Nate never thought himself to be the sentimental type. But, after Mr. Ueno's passing, he found it rather difficult to keep working at a place that reminded him so much of all that had happened. Nor did it feel right to keep using Mr. Ueno's namesake to make a living. Throughout the years of simply living at where he worked and not having to pay rent, Nate was able to save a decent amount of money. The business also did well, while Nate was running it. Comes to find out, Mr. Ueno had no children, or heirs. Unbeknownst to Nate, Mr. Ueno had actually gifted the deed to the storefront in which the pub originally occupied to Nate. All Mr. Ueno left, along with the deed, was a simply handwritten letter that read "Fly, son. Fly." written in traditional Kanji on oldschool parchment paper with a calligraphy brush. Nate chuckled, as he folded the letter back how it was originally folded. This was just like Mr. Ueno. No fuss, and straight to the point.
Nate sold the storefront. Local developers have wanted to buy the location for years and Mr. Ueno never agreed. Fetching a fantastic price, Nate took the deal, and made a sizeable contribution to a charity that Mr. Ueno often talked about and kept the rest. Going home, Nate realized that he hadn't been home in years. Of course his father and mother still lived in the same house, but are essentially separated at this point. Nate greeted his mother with a bow, then a hug. "Mom, I'm leaving. Mr. Ueno had passed away and I've saved up enough money to start my own business." His mother simply nodded. "Of course son. I know you will shine. You're my son after all." she said, smiling. His father came down the stairs at this time, seeing Nate and scoffed. "Oh. Come begging for us to help you, is it?" "No dad. I'm leaving. I'm starting my own business. Here. This is yours. I don't owe you anything anymore." Nate handed him a large envelop, full of cash. The actual amount was about two times what his father had paid for in all of Nate's education, starting from kindergarten. "Mother. This is for you. Please enjoy retirement. You're always welcome to visit me. Just give me a call and I'll book you a first class flight." His mother smiled, and rejected the money. "No, son. You need this for your business." "Mother, please. I have enough for the business. This is yours I insist that you keep it." After some back and forth, his mother reluctantly accepted and Nate took his leave.
Arriving on Isla Azul, Nate first found a job at a local cafe, that served hearty breakfast and decent coffee to locals and visitors alike. Nate treated this as a opportunity to get acclimated to his new home, learn a different skill and scope out the potential patrons for his bar as well. The owner was getting up there in age and have talked about walking away and retiring. Nate took this opportunity to take over the business, using nearly half of his remaining funds what he brought over from Japan to buy the business outright from the previous owner. Keeping the name and daytime business going, Nate shifted himself away from front line operations at the cafe to a more managerial role, allowing the more tenured team members to take on elevated roles at the cafe while Nate planned to transfer part of the cafe into his ideal bar.
Knowing that he has to embrace the tourists, as they are a major source of income for many businesses on the island, Nate decided to go with a speakeasy concept. Renovations began about 2 years after he arrived on Isla Azul, and took over the Sunny Side Cafe. He was very hands-on during that process, designing the interior of the small bar room just like the old school speakeasys that he has always liked. As of the name of his establishment, Sidecar was the last drink Mr. Ueno told Nate to make for him, and it was this last drink that Nate earned a genuine praise from the old man. "This. This is gold, kid. This will take you places."
Taking a paint brush, and taking some black paint, Nate painted several Enso around the cafe, all used as a path to lead would be patrons to a unassuming storage area in the cafe. Of course, this area is closed to the public during the daytime hours. However, as the cafe closes and the sun sets, the lights specifically aimed to point at the unassuming symbols would make them glow a faint blue, leading to a now unblocked door with yet another faint blue symbol painted directly at the center of the door.
"Find enlightenment through Enso" would be the only phrase on the cards Nate would hand to random patrons at the cafe. His bar staff are told to only let patrons in that present them with the card that also glowed faint blue under the UV lights.
Enlightenment and elegance as a state of mind.
Likes:
Himself
Money
People watching
Dislikes:
Rules
A poorly made drink, be it alcoholic or caffeinated
His childhood
Special Talent:
Bartending
Coffee making
Cooking
Supporting Information:
He lives in a one-bedroom apartment near his cafe on Isla Zafrio
He drives a small Japanese Kei Truck with the truck bed covered by what looks like a pine box with two window cut outs. In reality, he had modified the truck into a small camper, with simple gear that he can take with him if he wanted to do some car camping
Height:6'3"/1.91m Weight:200lb/91kg Eye Color:Vibrant Blue Hair Length/Texture:Shoulder length when down but that is rare Hair Color:Dirty/dusty blonde Skin Color:Fair, but weathered by the sea breeze Facial details(freckles, moles, etc):Some minor scars and healed wounds from prior battles Distinguishing features:His braided/forked beard, which is the same color as his hair Clothing Preferences:He keeps his clothing choices simple, choosing not to spend what meager wages he gets on something as trivial as flashy clothing. He tends to stick to a dark/navy/muted blue and a variation of darker browns. He will occasionally allow himself small adornments in his tied hair or braided beard and he will always been seen with a armlet, intricately engraved with runes that looks tarnished.
Psychology
Likes:
Being at sea
Pillaging
Rum, which is always gone for one reason or another
His brothers at sea
Seeing the rich suffer
Dislikes:
Rules
The navy
The Royal Family
Being poor
Sexuality:Heterosexual
Hobbies:
Singing Sea shanties
Going on raids
Visiting brothels
Sailing the seas
Drinking
Life Goals/Dreams: The be the most infamous seafarer in history
Personality Summary: Brash || Unapologetic || Direct
Background
Current occupation: Privateer/Pirate
Any past occupations?: Commodore with the Sorian Navy
Relatives:
Ragnar Agnarrson / father / Alive
Freya Torsdottir / mother / Alive
Ingrid Ragnarson / sister / Alive
Halfdan Agnarrson / Uncle / Wanted criminal, location currently unknown
Skills:
Seafaring
Naval combat
Naval survival
Swordsmanship
History Summary:
One For All
Well. Where does one begin with Arne. His upbringing was fairly normal. Decent family from Krasivaya, father was a career naval officer and mother was a homemaker. Arne and his sister Ingrid grew up in relative comfort, with their father bringing home his salary and their mother making things work at all times. This continued for what felt like ages.
Until his uncle Halfdan showed up at their doors. Arne's father, Ragnar, of course welcomed his brother into his house and shared food and drink with him. Halfdan of course did not refuse. Being 13, Arne was allowed to stick around and share ale with the men as they talked about life and their own journeys. Sven with his heroics with the navy and Halfdan with his exploits as a privateer at sea. They all worked for the Royal Family, no doubt, but their approach to life could not be more different. Ragnar was a man of the people, always following the law and he was fair with all he had dealings with. Halfdan was cunning, willing the bend the law for his benefit and tended to take advantage of people as long as it did not cause grievous harm. Young Arne did not understand the difference, but he knew he wanted to be like his father, and be a officer in the Royal Navy. So. As soon as he was allowed to, much to his mother's chagrin, Arne joined and was coincidentally placed into his father's squadron, as the lowest enlisted member. Ragnar gave young Arne no quarters. He treated his son as any other enlisted seamen, and one could even say he was extraordinarily strict towards the young Arne. Arne paid it no mind. He understood that his father was behaving as such to sharpen him up, to make him seaworthy. Dutifully, Arne served and learned. The other members of the squadron thought Arne was going to rise faster than them due to nepotism, but no. Arne rose slower than his peers, as his father would have liked. He was to be given no leeway. His achievements were seldom acknowledged, much less celebrated and his mistakes were scrutinized and reprimanded accordingly. Arne never once bared a grudge towards his father or other officers in the ranks. He wanted this. He wanted to learn and become someone his father can trust.
Fast forward 5 years. Arne, now 20, was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. His peers were ranked higher but they did not care. To them, Arne was the most deserving of a higher rank than all of them. Arne has always done exemplary work and the senior and flag officers would all agree to that. Ragnar, now ranked Rear Admiral, had to constantly remind and sometimes plead with his own peers to not over-praise Arne.
Meanwhile, Halfdan Agnarrson, Privateer, was still roaming the seas, parading his royal pardon to any who would listen. Often, it would be Rear Admiral Agnarrson commissioning Privateer Agnarrson and his ship, the Sun Howler, to 'rid the coasts of would be intruders'. Stories of Halfdan's ruthlessness started reaching back to the naval command and Ragnar had to call Halfdan into a meeting, unofficially. The conversation got heated and that's the last Arne heard from or about his uncle...
Fast forward another 5 years. Now 25, Arne has once again climbed in ranks. Commordore First Class Arne Ragnarson. That was his official title. To anyone that served with his father, and have not retired, his title when not in an official setting is 'The kid' or 'Ragnar's boy'. Such as it is when your father is a retired legend, with over 100 sorties and expeditions under his belt, having been made Vice-Admiral just before he reached his maximum service time and retired to full honors. Arne carried all with him with pride. His father, and his achievements, have always been what he striven to reach. Now that there is a clear, and defined, goal ahead of him, Arne can do everything in his power to make his father proud.
Or so he thought.
On one sunny morning, an order came down from command that Arne and his squadron is to set out in pursuit of a company of rogue privateers that have since been labeled pirates. Arne, being the dutiful officer that he is, accepted the mission without hesitate and tasked his crew to embark posthaste. Aboard the HMS Thunder Waves, the flagship in the newest Zephyr-Class warship, Arne and his crew spearheaded the chase of this rogue privateer. One thing of note is that the mission did not disclose the name of the privateer or his ship. They were simply given an order to pursuit any ships that flew the black. During the mission, Arne operated efficiently, albeit all with a sense of unease, like he was doing something wrong.
After two weeks at sea, Arne receives a message from another ship in the squadron that they had spotted three ships, all flying the black. Arne gave the command to set course to pursue the trio of pirate ships and his crew sprang into action. Over the next two days, the HMS Thunder Waves and her squadron made up for lost time and were now in range to fire upon the rogue ships. Arne fired a volley of warning shots, hoping that the ships would slow and surrender themselves. When that did not happen, Arne gave the order to make the necessary adjustments and prepare to fire. Just then. The three ships being pursues simultaneously lowered their flags and raised a white flag on their main mast. Arne gathered nine of his best fighters and left the HMS Thunder Waves in the command of his first mate before boarding a dingy to set out to parlay with the pirates.
What he would see when he reached the other party would shock him. It was his uncle, Halfdan Agnarrson, leading the pirated. Arne and his team were lead aboard the Sun Howler to treatise and come to terms. However, Halfdan gave Arne his side of the story, of how the Royal Family grew tired of how wealthy Halfdan had gotten with his royal commission and simply wanted him gone. That Arne is now faced with a decision. Arne can fight him and his crew, potentially win, and accomplishing him missions, But in order to do that he'd have to kill his own blood. Or, he can join him and become a pirate, living freely of any shackles in doing so. Arne of course declined and continued to try to reason with his uncle, that him and his crew should return to port with Arne and all will be sorted with the Royal Family. Halfdan laughed at how naive his nephew was and made the first move. Halfdan's crew snuck up and gave a swift stab to any unsuspecting naval crew and was able to dispatch any remaining. Arne, shocked to his core, drew his standard issue cutlass and prepared to fight to the death. Instead, with one hand gesture, Halfdan stood his crew down and let Arne leave. Halfdan told Arne to think upon his words and actions, and see the light of what the Royal Family really is about.
Arne made it back to the HMS Thunder Waves and gave the command to pursue the pirates with everything they had. However, in the delay of Arne rowing himself back to his ship, the pirates caught the easterlies and disappeared behind the setting sun. Dejected, having lost the lives of 9 of his crew, Arne called off the pursuit and returned to port. The Royal Family of course did not take kindly to their mission being failed and came down hard on Arne. Arne, being who he is, shouldered the blame of everything and made certain that his crew were only very lightly reprimanded, if at all. Through it all, Arne was was placed on an indefinite leave without pay, and even his own father had his pensions reduced to that of an captain for 6 months as punishment. Arne tried to explain what happened, the choices he faced and the information he was given by his uncle. Ragnar tried his best to understand, but his sense of justice did not allow him. He saw this family as the biggest stain on the family, even more than his own younger brother essentially turning to piracy. He disowned Arne, despite the pleadings of Arne's mother and sister.
Devastated, Arne left home. All he had with him with whatever monies he had on him and the uniform that he wore that faithful day. Arne spent the next 6 months drifting from port to port, not being accepted by neither side of the coin. The freefolk saw him as a officer of the law and the common folk saw him as a disgraced officer. This turn of events turned his heart to ice, made him realize what his uncle told him that day was the truth, that the Royal Family would squeeze every drop of usefulness out of someone then they're simply discarded without second thought. Everything he has done for them meant nothing.
He tore apart what remained of his naval uniform and burned it. He vowed to take down the Royal Family. It was no longer "One For All" for Arne.
He used what he had available to him, that being knowledge of the Royal Navy and their strategic position, and bargained his way aboard the Remembrance. Fighting, pillaging, and redistributing whatever loot he came across, this is now his mission. Never again shall the Royal Family use him for their benefit. Now, he shall be the biggest thorn on their side.
Questionnaire
History Did you grow up nurtured or neglected?: Nurtured When you were upset, where was your sanctuary?: My room, but now the Crow's Nest on a ship What were you like in your teenage years?: I don't want to talk about it How close are you to your parents?: He disowned me. I don't know how my mother and sister are doing Do you have any trauma that haunts you?: No What advice would you give your younger self?: Never trust the Royal Family. They don't care about you Were you an obedient child or defiant?: Obedient What is your biggest regret?: Having to face my father that one day
Romance We don't need to talk about this
Personality Describe your ideal Sunday morning:... Really? What kind of person do you aspire to be?:... What bad habits do you have?:Whatever you think are bad habits, I probably do it If you could go back in time and change anything in your past, what would it be?:Fuck off What is your greatest fear?:... What are your pet peeves?:People with too many questions When you are in a sour mood, do you like to be alone or with others?:What do you think? Are you more likely to fight with your fists or your tongue?:Sword, pistol, fists
Name: Naoya 'Nathaniel' Tanaka Nickname: Nate Age: 35 Gender: Male Occupation: Owner of the Sunny Side Cafe/Side Car Bar on Isla Zafrio/Barista/Batender
Appearance: Nate is of Asian descent, standing at about 6 feet tall, with a athletic build. Dark of hair, he has blue eyes that comes from the European side of his family. During the day, Nate can be seen behind the bar at the Sunny Side Cafe, making coffee, pulling espressos and chatting with the patrons. Typically, he wears a blue suit with a white shirt and an apron while at work. When not at work, his sense of dress is more relaxed, opting for linen slacks, light dress shirts and pairs of loafers to match. He does have some tattoos, mostly covered during work by the sleeves of his usual attire, except for the ones on his forearms when he has he sleeves rolled up.
Character Concept: Nate was not born in Islas Azul. He moved to the islands after finishing his education in Japan. On the surface, he is just the friendly neighborhood cafe owner that likes to chat with the patrons and makes a killer cup of joe in the morning. He is also quite the accomplished bartender when his cafe transfers into a sort of a speakeasy that bucks the trend of the typical tourist pub. That is not to say his establishment does not welcome tourists. In reality, his establishment is mainly geared towards the ones that visit the islands but do not want to go where everyone seemingly is already going. Every other club is blasting loud music, doing two-for-one specials, trying to attract visitors that are looking for a cheap thrill. His establishment, he decided, would turn that trend on it's head. He did away with the flashy neon lights, and the massive queue right in the front of the bar. Instead, he would occasionally slip a card to random patrons throughout the morning, letting them know that there is a bar behind the counter, through what appeared to be a standard storage room, and down a couple of flights of stairs.
Character History: Nate was born, and grew up in Japan, to a strict family. Dad worked and supported the family, Mom stayed home and raised the kids. That's the way a family is structured, or so Nate was taught. Nate was not given many opportunities to explore his own hobbies and passions. His father thought of those things as unnecessary wastes of time. His only job, his father would often say, is to get good grades in school, and land a lucrative job. Getting married and having children were also expected of him. His life was not his own, as his father had a hand in everything and interfered whenever Nate tried to do something that did not fit his father's plan.
At home, Nate had to walk on eggshells. One misstep, and his father's wrath would be felt by not only himself, but his mother as well. His father would blame any mistake that Nate had as a misdoing by his mother as well. Punishment were usually verbal, but at times it had been physical as well. In any case, this made Nate hyper-aware of his surroundings and the moods of the people around him. He learned to observe quietly, and to put up a jovial facade in order to keep himself out of the path of his father.
While at school, he picked up the habit of visiting a small bar near his college. He got to know the owner of the establishment, Mr. Ueno. Through their frequent conversations, Nate learned that Mr. Ueno used to be a world-class bartender, having won prestigious competitions both domestically and abroad. This only served to pique Nate's interest in bartending and mixology as a whole.
Of course, his father did not support this habit. His father drank, frequently. But, his thoughts about drinking stopped at "Men should drink either whisky, or beer." nothing else. The idea of Nate making a living as a bartender simply did not make sense to his father. "Ah, that's shit. What? You're going to stand behind the bar and shake a metal cup for some other man? Are you a sissy? Nonsense. I forbid it." Nate vividly remembered his father saying to him.
Undeterred, Nate continued to visit Mr. Ueno whenever he can. Step by step, Nate learned the subtle art of asking poignant questions, observing the body language and visual ques his patrons may give him. This continued on for weeks, and then months. He technically did not lie to his father. He told him that he had extracurricular activities after school and that he would be coming home late sometimes. He would make his way to Mr. Ueno's bar as soon as his classes were finished, sometimes during prep time for the pub.
Eventually, Mr. Ueno asked about why Nate was spending so much time at the pub, sometimes even during off-hours. Nate would answer truthfully. That he wanted to be a bartender after school. Mr. Ueno simply nodded and carried on with his own prep work. This back and forth would go on to evolve into Mr. Ueno asking, more so telling in actuality, Nate to complete some of the prep work for him. His excuse would always be something along the lines of "I'm an old man, you young'ns should do more to help us older folks." or "You're just paying for the food I'm going to give you later on. Go on, get to work!"
Slowly, Mr. Ueno would ask Nate to mix him a drink or two before the pub opened. It started with simple drinks like whisky highball, gimlet or Aperol spritz. Of course, he would lace constructive criticism into actual insults. "This glass isn't cold enough! You need to ice the cup longer, at least another 30 seconds!", "Too much simple syrup! I can hardly taste the gin at this point. Find the balance! The balance!", "Ah this shit is just plain bad, why are you wasting my product? Go remake me another one! This time, get it right!" were some common criticism Mr. Ueno would throw at Nate.
This continued for the majority of the last few years of Nate's college education. Unpaid training with Mr. Ueno, and unrelenting pressure at home to stay on top of his school work and land a good corporate job so he can start building his future. On the day of his graduation, the first words from his father were not congratulatory in nature. "Ok. Now that you're done with school, and I'm done paying for it, where are you going to work? The local financial advisory firm? Or are you going into medicine? Perhaps you're starting at a law firm?" This simply goes to show how much attention his father paid him while he was in school. He listed off the three typical fields Asian parents want their kids to work in. Finance, medical, and law. How original.
"Well, dad, if you paid any attention, you would know what I did not study medicine, or law. Yes, I studied finance, but I am not going into that shit field that work their people to the bones and then work them some more. No. Mr. Ueno offered me a job as a bartender at his pub. Thats where I'm going."
His father found those words both incredulous and amusing. Never has Nate talk back to him this way. "Nonsense. No son of mine will work in some dingy bar, shaking drinks for tips. No. You're joining the local financial firm. I don't care if you start by sweeping their floors. As long as you work in the building, you can tell others that you work for them." Nate took in a deep breath, gave a filial bow to his mother. "I am moving out. I don't want anything to do with you. I've already packed my bags. Mom has known for a while now. Yes, she did not tell you about it. No, I will not change my mind. Good bye father, mother. Thank you for everything. I would say that I will visit, but I don't assume you'd want me to." He said. His father was incensed. He wanted to yell at Nate. However, realizing that they were in public, and he has his image to uphold, all he said was "This is your fault. You did not raise this boy well. I gave you two everything you needed, and then some. Look at what has happened." in a rage-filled, but hushed, voice. His mother paid her husband no mind and simply walked up to Nate, giving him a hug. "Best of luck son. You're always welcome at home. I will miss you. I will come visit you." His father turned to face his wife, stunned. "Nonsense. He is not welcome under my roof. You will not visit him anywhere." in the same hushed voice as before. "I will visit him where and when I choose. You no longer control me. I will not divorce you. Nor will I accept a divorce proposal from you. Not because I love you. But because I do not want you to remarry and ruin another woman."
From then on, Nate stayed at the pub, building a small nook for himself in one of the back rooms. Mr. Ueno had learned about the family dynamic of Nate's family through their numerous conversations. He does not charge Nate rent, "As long as you don't make bad drinks and lose all of my customers. That's good enough for me." he would say. For a while, Mr. Ueno took on an advisory/mentor role, as Nate took over the bartending duties. This continued on until Mr. Ueno decided to retire and simply let Nate continue running the business as if it was his own. Nate understands how much of a boost this was to his career. Nate made sure he continued to make payments to Mr. Ueno all the way until he passed away, 5 years after he retired.
Nate never thought himself to be the sentimental type. But, after Mr. Ueno's passing, he found it rather difficult to keep working at a place that reminded him so much of all that had happened. Nor did it feel right to keep using Mr. Ueno's namesake to make a living. Throughout the years of simply living at where he worked and not having to pay rent, Nate was able to save a decent amount of money. The business also did well, while Nate was running it. Comes to find out, Mr. Ueno had no children, or heirs. Unbeknownst to Nate, Mr. Ueno had actually gifted the deed to the storefront in which the pub originally occupied to Nate. All Mr. Ueno left, along with the deed, was a simply handwritten letter that read "Fly, son. Fly." written in traditional Kanji on oldschool parchment paper with a calligraphy brush. Nate chuckled, as he folded the letter back how it was originally folded. This was just like Mr. Ueno. No fuss, and straight to the point.
Nate sold the storefront. Local developers have wanted to buy the location for years and Mr. Ueno never agreed. Fetching a fantastic price, Nate took the deal, and made a sizeable contribution to a charity that Mr. Ueno often talked about and kept the rest. Going home, Nate realized that he hadn't been home in years. Of course his father and mother still lived in the same house, but are essentially separated at this point. Nate greeted his mother with a bow, then a hug. "Mom, I'm leaving. Mr. Ueno had passed away and I've saved up enough money to start my own business." His mother simply nodded. "Of course son. I know you will shine. You're my son after all." she said, smiling. His father came down the stairs at this time, seeing Nate and scoffed. "Oh. Come begging for us to help you, is it?" "No dad. I'm leaving. I'm starting my own business. Here. This is yours. I don't owe you anything anymore." Nate handed him a large envelop, full of cash. The actual amount was about two times what his father had paid for in all of Nate's education, starting from kindergarten. "Mother. This is for you. Please enjoy retirement. You're always welcome to visit me. Just give me a call and I'll book you a first class flight." His mother smiled, and rejected the money. "No, son. You need this for your business." "Mother, please. I have enough for the business. This is yours I insist that you keep it." After some back and forth, his mother reluctantly accepted and Nate took his leave.
Arriving on Isla Azul, Nate first found a job at a local cafe, that served hearty breakfast and decent coffee to locals and visitors alike. Nate treated this as a opportunity to get acclimated to his new home, learn a different skill and scope out the potential patrons for his bar as well. The owner was getting up there in age and have talked about walking away and retiring. Nate took this opportunity to take over the business, using nearly half of his remaining funds what he brought over from Japan to buy the business outright from the previous owner. Keeping the name and daytime business going, Nate shifted himself away from front line operations at the cafe to a more managerial role, allowing the more tenured team members to take on elevated roles at the cafe while Nate planned to transfer part of the cafe into his ideal bar.
Knowing that he has to embrace the tourists, as they are a major source of income for many businesses on the island, Nate decided to go with a speakeasy concept. Renovations began about 2 years after he arrived on Isla Azul, and took over the Sunny Side Cafe. He was very hands-on during that process, designing the interior of the small bar room just like the old school speakeasys that he has always liked. As of the name of his establishment, Sidecar was the last drink Mr. Ueno told Nate to make for him, and it was this last drink that Nate earned a genuine praise from the old man. "This. This is gold, kid. This will take you places."
Taking a paint brush, and taking some black paint, Nate painted several Enso around the cafe, all used as a path to lead would be patrons to a unassuming storage area in the cafe. Of course, this area is closed to the public during the daytime hours. However, as the cafe closes and the sun sets, the lights specifically aimed to point at the unassuming symbols would make them glow a faint blue, leading to a now unblocked door with yet another faint blue symbol painted directly at the center of the door.
"Find enlightenment through Enso" would be the only phrase on the cards Nate would hand to random patrons at the cafe. His bar staff are told to only let patrons in that present them with the card that also glowed faint blue under the UV lights.
Enlightenment and elegance as a state of mind.
Likes:
Himself
Money
People watching
Dislikes:
Rules
A poorly made drink, be it alcoholic or caffeinated
His childhood
Special Talent:
Bartending
Coffee making
Cooking
Supporting Information:
He lives in a one-bedroom apartment near his cafe on Isla Zafrio
He drives a small Japanese Kei Truck with the truck bed covered by what looks like a pine box with two window cut outs. In reality, he had modified the truck into a small camper, with simple gear that he can take with him if he wanted to do some car camping
RPM
DWGJay
princess
Oso
SilverSpring
Scrawl Banditta
Days
CitrusArms
Blair
Remram
