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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 16:32:20 GMT -5
Promptly at eight o'clock on Friday night, Jerod Vance picked up Regina Dawson at her office. This time he had forsaken his lumbering brown van in favor of an old but well-kept blue Ford. After a few minutes of discussing their strategy for the night's explorations, they decided to begin at Lusus Naturae, the mutie bar that served as a front for Nick Tiernan.
"I'll go in, but I've gotta keep a pretty sharp watch," Vance said with a frown. "If the Ferret or any of a dozen other guys sees me there--and with you of all people--neither one of us'll see tomorrow morning."
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 16:50:43 GMT -5
Daws nodded. "I dunno about those other guys, but if we bump into George," she grinned ferally, "Just let me handle him long enough for you to slip out. I still owe him a piece of my mind for nearly wrecking our plan to save the Doc's folks. Whatever love there was between me and the ferret," she examined her claws and chuckled, "It got lost a long time ago."
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 21:03:14 GMT -5
Vance half-grinned at Daws. "George always was a perverted little rat. If you managed to turn him off, you really must've got his goat."
He produced an old brown fedora that was considerably more worn than Daws', and settled it on his head, touching the scar on the left side of his face. "My mug would be nothing memorable without this souvenir from Fallujah--but as it is, I can use the cover."
Since Tiernan was riding his operatives hard after recent events, none were present at the bar that night. The listless mutants who slouched over a beer at the bar or hustled at the pool table were merely outsiders, looking for the acceptance of their own kind or the oblivion of alcohol. The only familiar figure was Pink, presiding over the bar as always.
Once he was through the door, Vance sidled unobtrusively along the front wall to a corner table, where the light was suitably dim. He sat down, pulling his hat a little lower.
"I think I better leave most of the circulating and talking to you, detective," he murmured to Daws. "If you hook any interesting fish, bring 'em over."
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 21:30:54 GMT -5
Daws nodded in understanding and made her way over to the bar, grinning casually at the bartender. "'Evening, Pink. How's business?"
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 21:39:27 GMT -5
Pink looked up from wiping down the bar and shrugged broadly, stuffing the dishcloth into her apron pocket. "Issa slow night. All them boys runnin' their heads off, lookin' for them people that's troublin' the Boss. You workin', 'tective?"
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 21:45:00 GMT -5
Daws shrugged. "Spent all day doing just what the boys are out doing," she said mildly, "And didn't have a shred of luck at it, either. Tonight I'm bent on relaxing and ignoring the problem for a bit -- sometimes that's the best way to work somethin' out." She sighed and examined the crowd.
"Been a long time since I've been in." She remarked lazily. "Anybody new or interesting been around?"
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 21:57:34 GMT -5
"Nah, jus' the same ol' crowd," Pink replied, in a bored tone. "Boys from the Bunker, workin' girls, an' them ol' Spooktown dockrats. Ah don't like them Spooks. Come in, sit around, an' wait for one a' the boys t' get lazy 'n' pass off a job on 'em. The Boss done told 'em not t' do that, but they go do it anyway--pay the Spooks a few bucks f'r what the Boss done paid 'em plenty to do theyselves."
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 22:03:12 GMT -5
"Never mind the question of whether they can trust the Spooks to do the job or not." Daws shook her head. "Call me old fashioned, but I don't like puttin' a job into someone's hands unless I know I can count on them following through -- particularly when my name's riding on whether it gets done or not."
She shrugged and laid a five on the counter. "Well, gimme a beer and I guess I'll nose around a little -- see if anything interesting's doing." She grinned. "You know me -- insufferably nosy to the last."
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 22:04:53 GMT -5
"Jus' don' get that nose slammed in any doors," Pink advised her sagely, setting a beer on the counter.
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 22:12:43 GMT -5
"You know it. Thanks." She raised an eyebrow at the bartender. "Incidentally, I'm sort of keepin' an eye out for a guy -- in his twenties, name of Joseph. Purple, ridged skin -- really hard to miss." She shrugged. "He's been in the life for a while, and I dunno if he's even in New York anymore, let alone in Mutietown. But his old man's a friend of mine. If he should happen to drift in -- send him my way, willya?"
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 22:16:57 GMT -5
"Sho'," Pink replied agreeably, and went back to mopping the spotless bar with her dishcloth.
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 22:28:44 GMT -5
Daws drifted through the room for a moment, surreptitiously eavesdropping on a few conversations. Most of them were the sort of mundane chatter one could hear in any bar on a slow Friday -- cheating girlfriends, hard-nosed bosses, rising taxes and the general disarray of the City's politics.
From the corner of her eye, Daws saw the front door open and a short, round-faced man with red hair and a tweed cap enter. She grinned and sidled over as the man shrugged out of his jacket and removed the cap, revealing a pair of short horns protruding from his curls. "Heya, Carl." She said casually, as he unshouldered a cue case and approached his customary table. "How's fares?"
Carl Vargas, the local pool shark, shrugged broadly as he set up his cue. "Same old, same old, Dawson. Taxi business never changes." He eyed the bar crowd with a disgusted frown. "Tiernan's still got a bee in his bonnet, I take it?"
"Aw, most've Tiernan's guys are too smart to play pool with you anyway, Carl." Daws grinned.
"Most," the round-faced man replied, grinning, "But not all." He shrugged and racked up a practice set. "Ah well. Spooks're usually good for a couple bucks."
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 22:39:52 GMT -5
Carl's entrance had attracted the attention of a few of the bar patrons. Most of them looked up, debated with themselves, and decided they had worked too hard for their paychecks to throw them away--but one young man sauntered over. He was apparently trying to look goth, but the effect was undercut by the fact that his black clothes were visibly worn hand-me-downs. The bicycle chain he had fashioned into a sort of necklace was slightly rusted.
"Stealin' from honest crooks again, eh, Carl?" he remarked with a sly smile.
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 22:46:22 GMT -5
Carl calmly made a combination shot that sent four balls spinning into the pockets, then straightened and grinned at the young man with the deceptively honest features that had suckered many a newcomer.
"Stealin' is a dirty word, kid," He replied amiably, "I don't take nothin' from nobody who don't offer it up on their own." He raised one eyebrow. "Anybody who plays better'n me can take from me just as easy as I take from those who play worse."
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 22:52:26 GMT -5
The young man grinned. "Stealin'," he reiterated, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops, and dropped into a chair at the nearest table. He glanced at Daws. "If you're smart, you won't play with that guy, either."
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 23:03:22 GMT -5
Daws chuckled dryly. "People have been known to debate how smart I am," she said, "But I've known Carl long enough to know that, smart or no, I'm not good enough to beat him -- an' I like my salary too much to try."
Carl shook his head and grumbled a few good-natured complaints under his breath, then turned back to his practice set. A few minuted passed quietly, with both Daws and the stranger observing, before a rowdy trio of mutants entered the bar and made an almost immediate beeline for the pool table.
Carl's style took a marked turn for the worst: after missing a pitifully easy shot, he straightened and regarded the newcomers mildly. "Any of you boys feel like a game?"
Daws stifled a grin and pulled out a seat from the empty table near the young man. "Well, tonight just got more entertainin'." she remarked lazily.
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 23:08:05 GMT -5
"Dumbells," the young man remarked, and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach and closing his eyes. "I can't watch. Tell me when it's over."
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 23:14:25 GMT -5
Daws laughed and pushed her fedora back, observing the time-honored Lusus Naturae tradition of newcomers being expertly fleeced by Carl Vargas. Carl wasn't of the hit-hard-as-soon-as-money-changes-hands school; he gave his victims a decent game, holding back his talent just enough that they always had a hope of winning (or at least, they always thought they did). It took more time, but it ran a far lower chance of the mark feeling cheated -- which was much better for Carl's health and the quiet atmosphere of Lusus alike.
When two of the newcomers had been summarily beaten, and the third was politely excusing himself from play, Daws nudged the leg of the young man's chair with her foot.
"I think they've learned their lesson." She said affably, "Y'can probably look up now."
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Post by Jordanna on Aug 12, 2006 23:21:30 GMT -5
A faint snore emerged from the young man--and then he twitched and opened one eye. "Oh. They done?" Opening the other eye, he confirmed that the pool game was over, and sat up straight.
He eyed Daws critically. "I haven't seen you around--and you I'd remember. You work for Tiernan?"
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Post by skybright on Aug 12, 2006 23:25:20 GMT -5
Daws shrugged one shoulder. "I work for myself -- although I've contracted out to Tiernan now and again." She held out a hand. "Regina Dawson. Private detective."
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