"I can play anything with strings, don't worry about it," Teja said, finally tallying the rest of the money up and posting his total on a board behind him. "Let me grab my jacket, and we'll walk to a place. There's this great authentic Chinese place a few blocks from here." He walked in the room behind the bar, and grabbed his leather jacket, tugging it on and pulling his long hair out from beneath it before reappearing and walking back to Stoney's side. Just then, a pair of hooded Gibson workers showed up, and Teja nodded to the bass. "There's your patient, boys. Bring him back to Mini-Mordhaus and set him in the living room when you're done." He looked at Stoney to confirm the plan.
He continued as he walked to the door, "Soren is Skwisgaar's eldest legitimate child. He disappeared about a week ago, with another version of me. Older, non-demonic me. He was a writer, mostly young adult fiction. Damn decent stuff, too. None of this Twilight crap." He started towards downtown, and kept a reasonable pace, not walking his usual, driven speed-walk, hands in his pockets. "Honestly, I'd be surprised that any of the guys would play nowadays. My biological father had been retired from the stage for nearly fifteen years before I was born, him and Skwisgaar both. Hell only knows what happened to the others, in the end. I hear that their version of your father wound up going into a reality that was still in its American Civil War era after they destroyed the world they were from. Nathan went off to fight the Gauls, Pickles and his husband stayed at the bar, and Charlie? He just... sort of disappeared, I suppose. Off to cause well-groomed chaos somewhere else, I guess."