The Old Man looks distrustful of this non-alcoholic crap, but he hits the diet coke button on a battered old soda gun and fills a glass. "That's a buck fifty," he grunts out, then scowls at the idea of being quizzed. "Whaddya wanna know?"
The Old Man looks distrustful of this non-alcoholic crap, but he hits the diet coke button on a battered old soda gun and fills a glass. "That's a buck fifty," he grunts out, then scowls at the idea of being quizzed. "Whaddya wanna know?"
Jacque opened his wallet, peeled off a few dollars and passed them to the Old Man. "Um, thank you." He said while pushing the Coke to the side. "Look I'll be honest with you, I don't drink, it's against my religion. Now you might ask why exactly I choose to come to a bar not to drink. Well part of the reason is that I'm an idiot and another that there have been rumors about this bar in specific that made we want to, eh, check it out. Y'see this very trustworthy jackboy told me this place is a front for Coke- not the drink, the powder."
Jacque smiled weakly. "And, and this Armenian fellow- nice guy really- tells me that you deal in high powered weaponry, army surplus stuff. Now normally I don't give these rumors a lot of heed, however there, uh... well a guy told me that this place doesn't deal in guns or drugs or whatever, what makes this place special is that it, um, that is to say, it caters to a special kind of person. What I'm trying to say, with uh, much trouble is that I have heard that this place caters to people with the obviously flawed belief that... creatures exist. This isn't true of course? I-I mean about the bar."
The Old Man doesn't seem to hear Jacque. He just grunts and walks over to the register, getting out change. He shoves the change in Jacque's hand. As he lets go, Jacque realises there's a swipe card with the coins.
"Check out our pool table in the basement," he says. "Maybe ask one of the ladies to join you."
Sara grunted noncommitally as Daysha went to get the coffee- something she would usuallybe more onboard with drinking; but right now alcohol usurped caffeine. She finished her latest bottle, but refrained from grabbing another one. Daysha's talk of vampires had successfully returned her mind to hunting, to Detroit, to her half a handful of friends. She didn't want to start blabbing about that.
As the other woman returned, she swivelled in her seat to see what was being gestured at and her gaze fell upon the two men at the door. Stopping potential fights would be another good reason to remain sober, in hindsight.
"Ripped apart? Sheesh." Harlowe's voice remained low, clearly displaying an intent to not be overheard. "Sure thing, I imagine that ain't something you want to be shouting out loud about."
"Uh, basement?" Jacque stared at the card, feeling its sides before carefully placing it in his wallet. "Yeah, uh, I love basements, their my favorite type of dwelling."
He looked over at the ladies the Old Man was alluding to, he gulped. When was the last time I actually talked to a woman? When I broke up with my girlfriend I guess- no wait, I never did, I guess she's still wondering where I am. Shit. Jacque bit his nails as he walked over to them, they appeared to be in the middle of a conversation
Should I wait or plunge right in? How the hell should I open this? Hey my name is Jacque Martineau, you might not know this but I'm actually an Algerian gangster who witnessed a creature suck a girl dry of her blood. Oh wait there's more, I'm also a heroin junkie who's using this experience as a way of getting sober, because the twelve step program is so passé y'know? And I've just been given this key card by a man who I've just met and invited down to his basement, here's an idea, do you want to join me?
Jacque stopped in front of them, his eyes were glued to his boots. "Hello, my name is Jack. You- um..." He looked back at the Old Man who seemed content in ignoring him. "H-Heh, uh, do you like hobb- do you have hobbies?" Fucking slick Jacque. "Hey I- I'm sorry for interuppting you guys but... here just lemme...yeah, right here, does this have any significance with you?" Jacque slipped the card onto the table.
Daysha replied to Harlowe with half a laugh. “Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to keep it low. Maybe we should go downstairs and…” And then she was cut off by Jacque.
Daysha gave the guy a disdainful look for a moment. “Hi… Jack.” Wow what a lousey pick up line.
Looking over the card she said, “Uh, I’m not sure…” She paused as she looked at it, then nodded. “Actually, we were headed down there as it was to continue our conversation.” Nodding to Quinn and Harlowe then Daysha pulled out her own keycard. “Follow me please.” She said to the three of them.
Derevko can kiss my ass for now. Although if he follows, he's gonna have a rude awakening.
Request please
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Sarah turned in her chair as she watched Daysha head towards the fracus that seemed to be occuring between Derevko and the new arrival to the bar, and immediately frlet her palms begin to sweat at the thought of unneccesary violence. She looked back to Harlowe, wondering if the woman had noticed her discomfort, and picked up her glass to sip at the drink in an effort to cover. When it seemed that Derevko wasn't about to beat up the young man and moved past him, Sarah felt relief flood her body.
When Jacques joined them at the table, Sarah remained quiet as Daysha took the lead and at mention of the basement, the psychologist wanted to know more, standing to follow the cop.
Actually, she needed to know more. It was what fuelled her Vigil.
The door to the basement is heavy gauge, battered steel. It looks like it might be a power plant room, or a fire escape, but it leads to a rusted metal staircase. Going down it is like plunging into a different world. It looks almost like an escape bunker from some time in the Cold War. One wall is covered in canned food and medical supplies. There's booze down here, but it's a damn sight better than the stuff upstairs- the sort of stuff you'd keep back and only use for Weddings, Births and Funerals.
A few tables and chairs, covered with scribbled notes sit in the centre. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling casts odd shadows on the poured concrete floor.
The other wall is dominated by a huge board. The Board is covered in scribbled notes and tips, contact details, and some 'Things of Interest' that the Old Man puts up there.
It's not classy. But it's safe.
Sara's brow arched as Jacque wandered over and embarrassed himself with his...unique introduction. Hell, even I ain't that bad.
She certainly didn't try and make things harder for him however; she wasn't a cruel woman, and had no desire to make the new guy squirm. "I guess you started chatting to the right girls," Harlowe commented to the man, as she rose from her seat. "You heard the lady." She jerked her head in Daysha's direction and began to follow the cop.
This night just got a little more interesting.
“Great, uh, thank you.” Jacque ran his hand through his greasy black hair while following Daysha’s lead. He looked at his company with more than a fair bit of confusion. “I-I I’m sorry, I introduced myself but I don’t think I caught your- but wait, are you allowed? I mean are there rules? I’m sorry it’s just that I’m so out of my element here, this is like secret society stuff. It’s just that you don’t seem like the, how do want me to say? You people look normal, I mean I just wouldn’t suspect you of sharing in my...knowledge.”
He stopped outside the entrance to the basement. “Before I go in there I just need to know if were on the same page.” Jacque bit his lip and prepared for the worst. “Do you guys believe that there are... creatures?”
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