|
   |
Gene enters the bar. He's been here before, so his expectations are already low. It doesn't smell nearly as bad as usual, so already his expectations have been exceeded. He's been here before because there are a couple of guys here who can always give him information he needs…if he pays them…or buys them a drink…or both. That's his currency. Infomation.
Today he comes in, looking around, clearly for someone in particular. He's a lanky guy, a bit tall, but not all that imposing. He has a serious, don't mess with me look, but for teh most part, he's just a guy. It works for him. Usually people ignore him. He's smoking a cigarette that he finishes and stubs out in the ashtray on the bar. He orders scotch, then turns to survey the dark room better.
Laura follows suit not far behind Gene, dressed a bit on the beatniky side, in predominantly black on her top and pants, though her top does feature white stripes. She doesn't look around the place at all, rather she walks directly towards a shady looking character sitting at the far corner of the truly despicable locale. Her hand dips into the pocket of her pants, before she pulls out a key, hands it to Scowling Sam, and in return gets an envelope. Yup, nothing strange here, all is in order.
Seated at the bar is Kwabena Odame, by himself. He's perfectly content to keep it that way, even though people with such a preference typically find themselves bothered in one way or another. The fact that he's wearing sunglasses inside such a poorly lit, basement establishment may help or hinder that nonsense. To be determined.
As for his vices? There's a bottle of beer, a glass of straight Kentucky bourbon, and a half-smoked cigarette in his left hand. Before him? A magazine for adult men filled with naughty photos, but he's not reading it currently.
Gene does a double take when he sees Laura's transaction with Sam. Not because he's not used to seeing shady transaction, but he cause he's not used to seeing 14-year-olds (as he thinks Laura is) conduct these sorts of transactions. Then his mind wanders to the gutter, and he frowns. Still, he's not her dad.
He's seen the fellow sitting along the bar. He's not surprised at the glasses or the magazine. Most of the people here are just bat-shit crazy.
Then he has an idea. A really bad idea. He waves to the girl to try to get her attention.
Thanks to her healing factor, Laura is very slow to age, so she gets mistaken for much younger than she is quite often, which just happens to make her such an asset in the assassination game. When on a job, she can play the part too, if need be. But now? Now she just seems odd, freakishly blank and devoid of emotions as she takes the envelope nonchalantly from Sam, and turns her back on him without so much as a word. The enevelope she folds and sticks in her pocket, before heading towards the bar.
She stops for a moment when she notes Gene waving her over, she tilts her head and studies him. She never recieved a contract from him before, and she doesn't recall him hanging with certain circles that occasionally put out hits, so she's curious how he may have heard of her. This being Sister Margaret's Home for WAyward Girls, she has no doubt he's waving her over for a job. Still, just for being unfamiliar with him, she remains alert as she approaches him, "yes?" She gets to the point, not bothering with introductions and such.
Truth is, there's something hidden inside of the dirty mag, something meant for someone else. He takes another drag of the cigarette before pulling a drink of that whiskey. He's dressed to be boring; black shirt, blue jeans, unimpressive shoes.
"Hey, Shift."
The voice comes from another black man, who comes up alongside of Kwabena with a smirk. "What the fuck, my man, ain't seen you out this way in months!"
Gene Fuchs says, "I just want to talk to you. Maybe about a job. Have a seat. Wanna drink? What's your poison? Grape Nehi or have you graduated to big girl drinks?" The question rolls off his tongue casually, factally, not sacastically. "What's your game? You turning tricks?"
While he is busy unintentionally insulting Laura, he keeps Kwabena in his peripheral vision. He notices the interaction, and can hear what hey are saying, filing away the information for later.
He wets his lips and looks back at Laura as he takes out and lights anothe rcigarette offering her one. "So, kid…what'll it be?"
"A job…?" Laura perks with interest as Gene speaks the key word to grab her attention, she nods at him and sits down next to him. When offered a Grape Nehi, Laura looks confused for a moment, as if she never heard of this rather staple drink. She smirks when asked if she graduated to big girl drinks, and eventually notes, "I drink water." Not the most sophisticated of replies, but there you have it. She leaves the question of her position unanswered, looking oddly at Gene, more often than not, those who approach her for hits have heard of X-23. This was an anomaly. "I don't play games," she answers the follow up question. The question about graduating to 'big girl drinks' suggests to her he may be downplaying her skills, alluding she's just a kid, so simply put, stating she plays no games should put an end to that.
"No tricks, I get the job done, one hundred percent efficency. There's no one better." Pretty cocky, then again, it's still unclear to Laura just how Gene came about offering her a job when it's obvious he's not quite familiar with her. She does take the cigarette offered her, mostly because it was offered, but keeps it held in hand. She is aware of Kwabena, but like most everyone else, she ignores him while discussing a potential job. "Are you aware of my fee?" She asks, eyeing Gene eerily.
Gene frowns and purses his lips. Okay, this gal is not understanding any subtle questions. He asks the bartender for a glass of water. "Use a clean glass," he adds.
He turns back to Laura. Yeah, no. He's not usually here asking about jobs. This is new.
"I mean what sorta jobs do you do? I got one that might be a little different. I don't know your fee." He takes his lighter and attempts to light her cigarette. He looks the girl up and down carefully. It was a bad idea and getting badder…worse…the more he thinks about it. "How old are you?"
Laura had certainly felt Gene wasn't a regular at Sister Margaret's, as she looks at him intently, wondering what will come out of this job offer. She expects it to be an easy assignment, which is why she lingers despite the curious behaviour and odd line of questions. "I'm the best in the business, I charge the highest," she makes it clear her services are top end, it's not just every two bit criminal that hires her for hits.
As Gene lights her cigarette, Laura looks at it, and then puts it to her lips, puffing on it as if she was quite used to it. She doesn't cough as she smokes, so at least there's that, it's not her first, or at least it appears that way. "Why is my age relevant?" Laura asks suspiciously, starting to become a bit more impatient with Gene.
"Yeah, what about it?" Kwabena replies.
"Well." The other man sidles up, and nods to the bartender indicating another round. There are two other men accompanying the fellow. "Thing is, we kinda been needing your help, my man."
"For what?" Kwabena's response is dry and uncommitted.
"You know we ain't gon' discuss that here."
"Well, I'm here." Kwabena glances to the man, smirking. "Not going anywheah, eidah." His accent is heavy, and English is not his primary.
"Alright, alright. Sorry, man. Didn't realize how busy you was, driving a fucking cab."
He thinks about that. Then he shrugs. "I suppose it's not. " He offers his hand, "I'm Gene. I'm a private investigator. I'm offering you a job where I need a young looking girl."
Gene looks over his shoulder to make sure he's not going to be in the middle of any brawl. Then his attention falls back on Laura. "I need to find something. That's probably not up your alley, but that's what I need. " He takes a puff from his cigarette. "Still interested?"
"That's one of my benefits, of which I have many," Laura says to Gene when he remarks needing a young looking girl, "who is the target? Or is it a retrieval?" She asks, shedding some light on the earlier exchange with Sam, clearly he needed something retrieved. "Describe the object," Laura presses for more information, not giving up on this job yet, though when she notes Gene's nervousness, she calms him, "relax, I will protect you if I take this job." So she may have looked underaged in Gene's estimation, but she just calmly offered to protect him from a potential brawl at Sister Margaret's. Needless to say, she's certain of her abilities.
Kwabena ashes the cigarette one more time. He's very silent for a moment, until reaching for the glass of whiskey and taking it down in one gulp. "Yeah," he finally answers. "Lot of hours for some honest money."
"Honest money," mocks the other dude. "Jesus, Shift. 's like someone found out how to chop yer jimmy off."
"That even possible?" chimes Goon #2.
"What, that he got a dick, or got it chopped?" jeers Goon #3.
"Easy," settles Goon #1. "We're havin' civilized conversation, boys."
"Dis is not good idea, Chestah," says Kwabena, quietly. "Dere ah rules."
"What?" He sees her look at the other guys, "No." His testosterone kicks in in front of the girl. "That won't be necessary." At least he's starting to figure out her angle. "Yes, I need something retrieved. A set of diamond earrings. I tracked then to a certain location. It's pretty secure, but I'm thinking you could get in."
Gene shifts his position so he can see the other men a little better. He can feel the weight of his gun in his pocket as he shifts. This is just St. Margarets.
"I probably could…," Laura agrees and looking at the guys arguing with Kwabena, she quips at Gene, "they don't know the rules of Sister Margaret's, it's about to get rough, I'll be back to discuss your diamond offer…think of a fee in the meantime. I'm X-23," she tells Gene and then walks directly out of the place, not looking back nor stopping to talk to anyone.
"Uh, okay. X-23? " He will have to do some research, but he is still thinking that he may have made the wrong choice. X-23 doesn't sound like the name for a 14 year old girl. He turns to see what happens at the other end of the bar, making sure he can get out of the way quickly. At least it's entertainment.
Goon #1 drinks his whiskey. "What…" He sets the drink down. "… fucking …" Then he sets a hand on Kwabena's shoulder. "… rules?"
"Dese." Kwabena scowls. Then, the exposed skin on his upper body undergoes a rapid transformation. Skin hardens into something clearly inhuman, and he grabs Goon 1's hand with a squeeze, crushing it. Even while Goon #1 cries out in agony, Kwabena is moving fast. "Fucking." He throws a punch into Goon #2's nose, shattering it and spraying blood all over the place. "Rules." Goon #3 gets clocked in the temple and falls cold, hard, and fast.
The brawl ends about as quickly as it begins; Kwabena's skin begins softening again, back to its normal state.
Gene is lucky enough not to get bled on, but the smell of blood is strong in his nose. He takes a big drink and another drag on his cigarette before he puts it out. He looks aorund again to try to find the guy he was originally looking for. Asshole. Always falling through. Gene throws some money on the bar and says, "Give the guy at the end another one of whatever he's drinking. He looks like he might need it."
The bartender makes quick work of demanding the goons leave. Meanwhile, Kwabena wipes the blood off his hand with a stray napkin, then tosses the bartender an apologetic nod, offering to clean up if necessary.
At offer of another drink, he casts his shades in Gene's direction, offering a quick nod of his head.
Gene returns the nod and heads to the door, stepping over a broken chair.