The Spiral III

Sep 4th, 2011 04:53 PM

"Well..." Harlowe remarked, as she leant back in her chair and made an effort to appear laidback. "You come out with a comment like that, and it's bound to arouse a little interest. It ain't the ah...most typical of stories, if you get my drift."

She was being careful, fully aware that one wrong comment could switch things around and make her appear to be a raving lunatic.

Her comment was not exactly a lie; she was interested in the story: the reason why was just slightly skewed. The reality was that Harlowe wanted to get an idea of whether or not this chick - either of them - were on the level.

Sep 4th, 2011 05:10 PM

Jacque touched his arm, his finger tracing his vein from the wrist up, winching but regaining his composure. He mainlined just a hour ago, and it wasn't even worth it. The stuff went down hard and the payoff was comically low, obscenely low even. 'What was it with this city and its insistence on having a lack of good junk?' Jacque thought, 'and the dealer probably cut the stuff with cat urine too.'

He walked through the door of the Spiral, a grade A piss hole that made the banlieue crack houses back home look like the Waldorf-Astoria. So caught up in his thoughts Jacque almost bumped into a patron exiting the establishment.

"Hey wa-" Jacque paused, looking at the man's scarred face. "...Pardon me friendo, didn't mean to stop you from making your beauty pageant.

**Forn Clakes** · Sep 5th, 2011 03:46 PM

"I don't believe in vampires," Quinn said, leaning forward in her seat rather than backwards like Harlowe had done so. She didn't want to appear laid back, relaxed, nonchalant or whatever the hell it was called.

Being relaxed, being off-guard, was what gave her the scars.

"However, even if I don't believe in them don't make your tale untrue. In other words, you have my absolute, one-hundred-percent attention, if you have the time."

Sep 5th, 2011 08:08 PM

Jacque needs to roll initiative

Sep 5th, 2011 09:10 PM

9 for initiative

Sep 6th, 2011 09:18 AM

Looking at Harlow, Daysha replied. “Uh, I should get some coffee, hang on.” As she walked over to the bar, she glanced at the door to see Derevko and some dude talking… or arguing. “Oh that’s just fucking great.” She said as she walked back to the table.

When she got back to the table, Daysha gestured with her head to the door. Giving a look of, we should keep an eye out on that one.

I don't particularly like Derevko, but some asshole just walking in and saying that shit is fucking rude. You gotta know that guy before you really want to kick his ass.

“So anyway, the homicide call was pretty crazy. It was like someone tore the body apart.” Daysha shook her head and waved her hand dismissive. “Now, I don’t mean like chainsaw, took an axe or that kind of thing. Like ripped it apart.” She pointed her finger down to the table, then tapped it. “So far, it’s a cold case. There were no prints or signs of any kind of weapon.” She turned her head slightly and looked from Quinn to Harlowe. “There was a couple of things that were fucked up, but I can’t tell you…” Glancing around for a moment. “Here. If ya know what I mean.”

Sep 6th, 2011 10:30 AM

Derevko reacted before Jacque had a chance to realise he's made a mistake. The scarred Agent grabbed the smart-mouthed newcomer by the lapels. There was a vicious, murderous look in his eyes. Right now, he just wanted a fucking excuse.

"You're going to apologise," he said, in a snarl. "Or I'm gonna rearrange your face until you're gonna wish you looked this good."

Initiative 17, 3 successes

Jacque is grappled

Sep 6th, 2011 01:08 PM

"Vous putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de ta mere, eh? Je vous vais tuer aime Je tué... John Fitzgerald Kennedy!" He spat out.

Jacque's hand darted to his back pocket, only find to his horror that instead of the familiar grip of his PA MAS he was only grabbing lint. Shit. Jacque began to sweat, this isn't Paris you fucking idiot; nobody knows the score here, nobody knows that they should be giving me respect.

Jacque smiled at the very angry man, his teeth shining a sickly green pallor. "Hey c-come on Mister Magic America I'm an asshole, I know, but could you have a little sympathy? Look I'm back in France, back there they look at me and say: 'Oi, there... there goes a Camel Jockey,' insult me- just like you, I'm a hypocrite I know, I'm coming here and insulting you, I'm sorry. Look let's go to that bar over there, I'll buy you a drink, one ,ten ,hundred, thousand, whatever you want. It is my way of saying I fucked up really bad." Jacque gave a nervous laugh. "What do you say, Jim Morrison, Real American Killer supreme, can you forgive a stupid Frenchman like me?"

Sep 6th, 2011 07:08 PM

Derevko's lips twisted into a sneer as the guy snarled at him in French and then broke down and started apologising. His knuckles whitened on the guy's shirt. No excuse! The little pussy backed down! He wasn't even good for a pounding, just a Goddamn terrier who stopped yipping when someone bared their teeth!

"You're fucking lucky today," Derevko spat, as if the words were vitriol that he could burn out his annoyance with. "Next time you walk into someone with a face like mine? Maybe you'll be fucking smart enough to figure that they earned their scars looking after dumb fucks like you. Get outta here." the heavily scarred Agent let go of Jacque roughly and moved to step past him.

Sep 7th, 2011 03:09 PM

Jacque didn't say a thing as Derevko brushed past him, he knew who had won this fight, even if the H kept telling him to plunge his thumbs into the man's eye sockets. Instead of acting on another one of his drug fueled ideas Jacque put his hands in his jacket pockets and walked towards the bar. Taking a seat on the barstool as far aways as possible from the other patrons. He sat thinking.

I have to stop, all of this shit, I'm going to get myself killed before I can find one, let alone kill one. This fucking junk man, it's gone and ate my brain.

Jacque looked up and saw the vast arrays of poison available to him: J&B, Grey Goose, Maker's Mark...

How young was that girl? Couldn't be more than sixteen, maybe even fourteen?

...Macallan, Captain Morgan, London dry...

She was innocent, unlike me, but that fucking creature did that to her- and was enjoying it.

...Cosmopolitan, Long island ice tea, Shirley Temple...

What the fuck did I do, I mean really? Say I'll change, say that I'll kill every creature I find, that I'll be sober? What have I done except talk big and shoot up? That man is right, I am a dumbass punk that thinks that having a gun makes him a real killer. He fucking payed for his scars and shows them to them world, I hid mine under my sleeves. What the fuck have I done with my life besides wallow in self pity and blame others for when that doesn't work out?

Jacque messaged his temples, trying to rid his mind of all needless shit running around in there. He looked back at the exit, then at two women talking to each other, and then at the shelves of alcohol and the barkeep, then he spoke: "Can I-I... that 'a is to say, I'd like a Diet Coke... and I'd like to ask you a question."

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2011-09-06 10:21:10	Jonathan Derevko rolls 7 to Strength + Brawl + Spec + FS - Defence (10 Again)	7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 10, 3, 5, 1	3 successes
2011-09-06 10:05:08	Jonathan Derevko rolls 1 die for initiative	8

The Spiral III

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