Desrochers bar is still kicking well on into the night. Most of the people who were here earlier have gone home for the night. Velvet, however, remains. Signe left, but on her way out gave the petite Darkling a little, black sombrero with white skulls around it. It's as suitable a sombrero as the woman is ever going to find. It doesn't match the rest of her, wrapped in expensive black silk as she sits at the end of the bar with a drink clutched between her fingers. To the mortals, her eyes are a clear blue as they sweep around the room. To the Lost, then are deep pools of lavender light. She's silent and judging, perched at the end of the bar.
Jack's entrance is unceremonious and direct - he heads straight for the bar. With the celebration having died down a bit, he'll probably make it there withoutb having to elbow his way in. The ranger does glance around alertly, squinting to see if he knows someone or maybe just one of those that like to get the lay of the land.
What better way to study the culture of the inhabitants of a unique community than studying them as they celebrate the culture of another unique community. And, with luck, it will involve lots of tequila. No silk for this blonde. Instead, Bronwyn is in desert boots, short denim shorts, a t-shirt with 'If zombies attack, I'm tripping you' written on it, large 'intellectual' glasses, and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She too...three...checks out the bar albeit over the lip of a glass. A smile when she sees Jack, offering him a little wave. "Hey. How's that bear? Did it ever come back?"
Darren slips into the bar with an eye on the festivities. He's dressed simply in a thick black military style pea coat that is worn unbuttoned over a light gray cotton shirt, dark jeans and a pair of combat boots. He's new to town and doesn't know anyone really other than those he's met with to trade with and Velvet who happens to be sitting at the bar now. Slipping through the crowd he makes his way over, offering a wave as he says, "Hey there. I didn't expect this place to be so busy."
Most of the conversation going on around her are fairly boring, so Velvet tunes out pretty easily. It isn't until Bronwyn addresses Jack that her ears perk up a little bit. Well, to the mortals they don't, but those that can see through her Mask, those long, pointed ears give a little twitch. "Did you say bear?" It's Vermont, it probably shouldn't be all that surprising, but Velvet is from New York, so it's all still a little new. Her black sombrero tilts back a bit, head tilting up to the unfamiliar face that approaches her. But the voice she recognizes in a moment. "Darren? Nice to see you out and about. Without all the..." she gestures around her face.
Desrochers. C.B. comes here on rare occasion, but usually sticks to drinking in the place he works at that also happens to serve alcohol. Having been invited, though...why the hell not, right? Not like C.B. cares about May the Fourth, about Cinco de Mayo, or about anything else that's happening around this time of year.
At any rate, he slips into the bar, dressed in a rumpled blue and white plaid button-down shirt, dirty jeans and work boots, but with a surprisingly newish Red Sox cap perched on his unruly hair. He pauses near the door and squints around the room. The guy who invited him is here. And Bronwyn, he knows her. Those other two? Not so much. Didn't anyone tell him it's impolite to stare? Or squint, in his case.
Jack secures himself a place at the bar and makes sure there's a seat free next to him - like he's waiting for someone. He upnods at Bronwyn and gives her a friendly enough grin. "Bear did not come back, and I'm guessing it's just fine wherever it is now. Hopefully nowhere near the trails." He glances at the door, looking for someone probably, then turns to eyeball Velvet. His eyes widen just a notch, because she does stand out. He scoots over to make sure there's room for Darren if he needs it, upnodding politely - seems there's a little crowd at the bar here all chatty. And, look - there's the reason he saved a seat. "C.B., hey." He doesn't outright shout, and lifts an arm to indicate where he's at, towards the door.
"Didn't see it the last time I went out" Bronwyn nods to Jack. She was all set to move seat but it's obvious that Jack is waiting for someone so she settles back down in her own before looking over to Velvet. "A bear charged out of the woods at Jack here. Did you ever see 'Crocodile Dundee'? Where he makes that big bull wander off by shaking his thumb and little finger at it? That's what Jack here did with the bear. Stared at it and it wandered off. Pretty amazing stuff. Oh, hi, I'm Bronwyn. But call me Bron."
The seat left open for Darren is waved off by the man as he gives Jack a polite nod and a, "Thanks but I'll stand." A smile is offered to Bronwyn as well as one of the same polite little nods. His mask is hardened tonight so he grins as Velvet is able to remember him by the sound of his voice. He motions in the same way she did in reference to what he wore the last time they met as he says, "There are times I like to get out of all that. It gets a little stifling. I won't intrude if you and your friends are busy. I just wanted to say hi since the opportunity was there to do so."
"He just stared at a bear until it went away? That's very amazing and not at all unusual," Velvet offers with a little cheers gesture from her drink. "So Jack, is that a trick you learned at the circus, or?" Or what, she doesn't say, those blue eyes lingering on him in quiet dare. Who knows, maybe he's just really good with animals! "Pleasure Bron. I'm Velvet." She gets a tip of the drink too. "Don't be silly, you're welcome to linger. Did you set up a time for us to meet with that gentleman friend of yours you wanted my help with?" She pauses for a moment as Jack waves a hand over towards CB, catching that little squinty look he gives her. Red lips twist into a sharp smile, her sombrero rim tipped in his direction.
Darren doesn't seem to notice C.B., but Velvet did -- he quickly glances away when she looks back at him, then looks again and offers a little smirk. He goes sauntering over to that chair that Jack supposedly left open for him and slides his bony butt into it. "Jack," he grunts. "Bron. You two." There's a look to the two he doesn't know at all, but then he's busy getting the bartender's attention: "Double bourbon neat and whatever you got on tap, a pint. I'll start a tab." He unzips the worn brown bomber jacket he's also wearing, blue eyes (with silver in 'em to the Lost) once again seeming to move over Velvet before they end up on Jack. "So. Why'm I here again, exactly?"
Jack shrugs at Bronwyn's description of what he did. "Young bear. He got scared, ran off. I'm a park ranger," he explains it as, as if whatever happened was such a big deal at all, waving it off. He also, however, shoots Bronwyn a bit of a 'damn it'-sort of look, but it's mostly good-natured. He's ordering for himself - whiskey and beer - and takes a hearty gulp of the stronger brew before chasing it down with some beer, getting his drinks rather promptly. "You're here cause I need a drinking partner, that's why." Easy as that. "Looks like the Cinco de mayo party died down a bit."
"I think Jack has some kind or primeval power over animals" Bronwyn offers in a terribly serious and scientific tone...before she shrugs and smiles. "Or he has worse breath than the bear. It's a toss-up really. Nice to meet you, Velvet. Nice name. Are you a local?" A smile at the appearance of C.B. "I didn't think you ever left your lair" she smirks to the anarchist before glancing towards the door. "Did your watchers come as well?" she mock whispers before looking to them all. "Next round is on me."
"Linger?" There is a soft chuckle as Darren gives a polite if late nod of his head towards C.B.. He quiets down as the conversation goes on around him, the wizened rubbing his fingers through his beard while looking towards the bartender then to Velvet. At a break in the conversation he replies, "Yeah I was able to." Reaching into his pocket he pulls a small card out and hands it off to her with meeting details and contact info. "I'll just have a beer if we're drinking? I'm Darren." There is a slight wave as the bearded man offers his name as way of introduction.
"Keep eyeing me like that and you're going to owe me a drink, Jack's friend." Velvet offers that to CB as his eyes keep slipping back in her direction. Jack's explanation for what happened earns a soft 'ahhh' from the blonde. But from her expression, she clearly runs along the same mentality as Bronwyn. "New to town, actually. Only been here for about a week. More of a big city girl, typically. I figured it was time for a little change." A hand lifts to pluck the card from Darren with a grin, glancing over the details before she tucks it into her purse. "Excellent. I'll make sure the deal works out in both of your favors," she assures him.
C.B. snorts at Jack, just around the time he has a few drinks to wrap his hand around. "Well, if there's one thing I'm good for -- it's that." He has to smirk a bit at Bronwyn's observation, however. "I usually don't leave one of two lairs, no. Cat-22 or my apartment. And of course they came," he murmurs. Sure enough, the flashing lights of a police car appeared outside of Desrochers not long after C.B. arrived...
He gives Darren a snarky little wave before turning his attention on Velvet. "How do you know Jack's not /my/ friend?" Then, that smirk C.B. was already kind of wearing turns up a notch or two as he continues to look the sombrero-wearing woman over. "I'll just buy you a drink anyway, that work? Name's C.B." He then takes a very long swig of his bourbon, not even wincing a little bit as it goes down.
Chasing down that whiskey, ordering another - (why doesn't he just get the whole bottle already) - Jack's seemingly more interested in his drinks than the people around him, for a moment. He ignores the talk about him and his possible 'primeval powers', just grunting at it all. There's a glance to the outside squad cars, hinted as someone walks into the place, and he just shakes his head, amused. However, he offers a hand to shake to both Velvet and Darren finally, remembering some social rules. "I'm Jack Fry. Nice to meet you both."
"I'm a woman of the world" Bronwyn smiles to Violet, "Though a lot of that was in New York. This place is...interesting. Full of interesting people too." She gestures to those gathered at the bar. "Nice to meet you, Darren" she nods to the last stranger. The anthropologist is downing tequilas in respect for the day - she was downing blue drinks for May the Fourth. "You shoot talk to a civil libertarian group about those polie following you" she suggests to C.B. "Surely they have something better to do." A pause. "And I'm not calling you, Shirley." It seems she's had a few.
"Sure thing." The simple response is offered to Velvet as Darren waves down that bartender to order his beer. The wizened looks out as the flashing lights roll up. One brow lifts but his attention is turned to Jack and the offered hand. Taking it in his own strong, calloused hand he gives a firm and polite shake along with a nod. Stepping out of the way he smiles to Bronwyn and says to her and the rest, "The pleasure is mine."
"Have you done something to cause them to come? It is a bar on Cinco De Mayo, chances are there's rowdy folks around that got their attention. Though it might be fun to watch someone get tazered." One lean leg crosses over the other as Velvet's smirk grows. "Straight whiskey. Yeah, I think that'll work." The smirk turns into a grin as she offers her name to those who weren't there to hear it before. "Velvet." She gives Jack's hand a quick squeeze when it's offered right after Darren does. "Can I call you Dundee?" She might anyway. "New York," she offers towards Bronwyn, "is quite interesting. Easy to get lost among all the hustle and bustle." She murmurs something to Darren for a moment, giving him a questioning look before she finishes off whatever was left in her glass.
"Surely they do," C.B. snarks at Bronwyn. "Except they don't. Not in a town this size." He hasn't offered anyone his hand, which is probably rude. But he doesn't seem too big on pleasantries, even if he does keep sneaking looks at Velvet, making sure she gets that whiskey, too. Then he goes into complete deadpan mode as he answers the pale-haired lady: "No. I have done absolutely nothing to make them come. That's why they follow me everywhere I go." Mutters to himself for a minute, then looks to Jack and scowls. "This is your fault, somehow." But it's actually a good-natured sort of scowl, for C.B. He takes another large swallow of whiskey, then a similarly-sized one of beer.
"The bear called the cops on you," Velvet interjects.
Jack's handshake is firm and brief, calloused hand also. He's clearly a guy that works with his hands on a daily basis. He slouches a bit on his seat, agreeing with C.B. - equally dead pan: "He's innocent like a newborn baby." He smirks at C.B. and finishes his beer, waving down another - he seems to prefer cheap bottle-brands, no fancy stuff for him. "I called them, said we were going here, yep. Didn't want them to miss out on the party." In a fit of generosity, he nudges Bronwyn with an elbow; "Want another drink?" If C.B. buys one for Velvet, he can buy one for Bronwyn. Poor Darren gets no offers of free drinks.
Bronwyn has already offered to buy the next round...even for Darren...but she'll take a drink when it's offered. "Another tequila" she smiles to Jack. "And then the number for Uber. I don't think I'll be driving home." A pause before her brow creases in thought. "Especially since I walked here in the first place." A sigh and a shrug of her shoulders before she is smiling to Velvet. "You're from New York? We should catch up sometime. I mean, that city is so small we probably have mutual friends" she teases playfully. But then she is going all serious and pointing at C.B. "I'll get onto it. What those cops are doing is wrong. Leave it with me." There may have been some slurring in her voice.
A look is given to Velvet at the quiet murmur and then Darren shrugs his shoulders. "That may depend in the situation. We'll have to see." His words are spoken aloud to her and then he waves. "I'll leave you all to it then. It was nice to meet you all." A nod is given to Velvet and the card to show he'll be ready as it says and then he's moving to the side away from the group to get a drink or perhaps to slip out of the bar.
Velvet nods at Darren's response. "Well, I would say we could figure it out now, but it looks like you're heading out. We'll figure it out soon, before the meeting." She takes out a card and slides it to him before he goes. "Call me tomorrow night." She waggles her fingers at him as he starts to retreat, her eyes sliding momentarily to the police cars outside. Her eyes narrow faintly as she watches the officers on the other side of the glass, but only CB and Darren can see the violet glow of her eyes brighten for just a moment as she stares in that direction. "Mm," she mutters for a moment before blinking back towards the group and to Bronwyn. "Oh yeah, me? I knew everyone!" she offers back in a lighthearted jest.
"Course you called them, you snitch," C.B. says to Jack. Then he glances to Bron, opening his mouth like he wants to add something, then thinks better of it. Though he quickly changes his mind once Bron offers to 'get onto it.' "No, lady, listen. All that's bigger than you, okay? Don't fucking /concern/ yourself with it. Pigs are pigs, that's what they are." He looks at Jack again, almost apologetically? But no apology follows. Then he pauses to study Velvet and Darren for a little while, eyes squinting, like he's trying to figure out what /that's/ all about. A little bit of lightning crackles around his eyes, not that everyone in the room can see /that/. He wets his lips and quickly finishes his whiskey, pounding it on the bar for a refill as he works on his beer.
"I lived in New York," Jack says, having downed his fourth or so whiskey. He's caved in, he waved the whole bottle over in the end, and ordered another tequila for Bronwyn meanwhile. He upnods at Darren. "See you around." Friendly enough, curious gaze at the man for a moment. A bit of a cop stare, as he's perhaps wondering what he and Velvet are up to. "He's right," he agrees with C.B. - no offense taken, he just grins at the other man. Not seeing any flashing eyes or violet eyes or oddities at all. "They got a job, so they're doing it." About New York, he adds - slurring a little already - "I lived in New York."
Bronwyn waves to Darren as she slips out before looking over to Velvet. "He okay?" she asks - it seems she's concered for everyone tonight. At least until C.B. tells her off. "Fine. Whatever" she pouts at him. "Was just trying to help" she grumbles. But at least there is more tequila. "Thanks. Jack. You lived in New York too? You were probably neighbours to me and Velvet. But since it was New York, we don't talk to neighbours."
That crackle of lightning in CB's eyes draws Velvet's attention in the man's direction, Velvet's head tilting in mild amusement. She doesn't give the answers he's looking for, though. "There are plenty of cops out there that do a good job. But for every good ten of them there seems to be one horrible one that screws the whole pooch." That's the tiny assassin's view on the police, anyway. She's seen her fair share of crooked cops. "I honestly don't know. We've only met once before, so I don't have a solid read on him yet," she offers to Bronwyn when the woman asks about Darren. "Jack, you might want to take it easy on the drink." Velvet has been shooting them back herself, but there barely seems to be a change in her.
"Whatever yourself," C.B. grumbles right back to Bron. "What could /you/ possibly do? Huh? That's right, nothing." Then he chimes in, "I lived in New York too. So what? Everyone lives in New York. It's just what you /do/." He continues to drink at a steady pace as Velvet shares her views. "Bullshit. By sheer virtue of being a pig, you are willingly becoming a part of an imperialistic machine. You willingly sign yourself over to the military-industrial complex. The very nature of the position is fascist." Really, does he not care that an ex-cop and supposedly his friend is sitting right here?
Sitting up straight now, Jack might be getting drunk but that doesn't mean he's not functioning or can't follow the conversation. "New York was a cesspool," he explains, and looks a bit like he's reminiscing on dark memories, spinning his glass around on the counter. He's just given up on beer now, sipping whiskey a bit slower - conceding Velvet's point with a nod. "I've been called worse," he notes dryly to C.B. - it seems to just slide off him, like pouring water on a goose. If he worked as a cop in New York he'd probably been called everything imaginary. "Anyway yeah, lived there for 15 years, just came back home."
"I could do plenty" Bronwyn counters to 'Cheery Butt', "Because I would bother to try and change things. But if you'd prefer to play the victim to demonstrate your points...which we all are aware of anyway...then you can continue to do so." She looks to the barman. "Can I have one of those umbrellas for my drink? I know we're celebrating a battle and all but something light would be nice." A sigh before she looks at C.B. again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interfere with whatever you've got going on." A curious look for Jack. A 'you let your friend insult you' look?
"Still is a cesspool," Velvet offers with a light sigh. "No place like it." It was her kind of cesspool after all. As CB goes off, her head just tilts again, studying him with an amused look etched across her features. "You've got a little froth," she murmurs, dabbing at the corner of her own lips in indication. "Right there. You're also assuming a lot about people you've never met. Plenty of cops sign up because something bad happened to them and they don't want it to happen to someone else. Or because they want to protect people. But I'm probably right in the assumptions that that point is probably going to go in one ear and then right out the other, huh?"
C.B. continues to drink steadily. "I bet you have," he tells Jack, but then he zeroes in on Bron, squinting. "You don't know shit about it, Bron. I'd like to see you /try/ and fix that problem. I want to see you fail." Well. That's very nice. Or does the author just enjoy picking fights? Imagine if he were /really/ wasted. His eyes flit to Velvet next. "If they want to protect people, maybe they should try doing it in a way that doesn't support corrupt institutions. Didja ever think about that?" He takes a big swallow of whiskey and points at her. "There are plenty of ways to make a mark without shackling yourself to a system. When will you people learn that?" Aaaaaaaand who is 'you people,' here, exactly? He gestures at Velvet and asks, "You want another round or what?"
Indeed, Jack doesn't seem to care about C.B's tirade here, content to nurse his drink and stay mostly out of this. He shrugs to Bronwyn, grins a little, like he doesn't expect anything else from his friend and has no intention on arguing. However, he waves down the bartender and points at C.B. to get the man a refill, perhaps hoping that'll occupy the writer's mind for awhile. And, he adds to tbe bartender; "Another round for her too." He points at Bronwyn. He's ignored her offer to buy a round, or didn't pick it up earlier - maybe he's just old fashioned. "You're all giving me a headache before I get a hangover. Can't you all just drink and be merry?"
"It's pretty easy to get you all riled up, huh?" Velvet pops an elbow on the bar top and sets her cheek into her hand as she studies CB. "Loud and angry doesn't always equal right, but it's delightful to watch." Her brows give a little waggle as her drink is refreshed by the bartender. She thanks him and wraps her free hand's fingers around the glass. "I'm super merry," she offers towards Jack. "What about you Bron? Merry?"
"Okay, I'll try" Bronwyn smiles sweetly over at C.B. "I do admire your belief in an altruistic mankind that does not need a police force to perpetuate societal standards established by the powerful for the most part, but I've seen socities try that. Sure, the military-industrial complex is corrupt and oppresses those who would disrupt its control, but when people in society are allowed to act on their own behalf, they can be just as cruel, corrupt, and oppresive...but now without society based safeguards. The society you despise, C.B., was created by the type of society you want, supplanted it, buried it, and we can all go through the loop again if you want." With that out of her system and with another drink arriving, she looks over to Velvet and Jack. "Wanna dance?"
Always having more to drink is certainly prime for C.B. "Well, say what you want. In this case, I'm right." C.B. smirks a little at Velvet. Yes, it's easy to get him riled up, but he's also a moody sort. Then he glances at Bronwyn and scoffs. "I'm essentially an anarchist, Bron. I've had this argument dozens of times. No -- hundreds of times. You're wrong in so many ways, I don't even have time for it. Come by Cat-22 sometime and we'll hash it out for real. I --" He interrupts himself, actually looking a little miffed that she didn't ask him to join in the dancing, too. Muttering something to himself about needing a smoke break, he peels himself off the stool and shuffles towards the door, though he leaves his Red Sox cap here, so he must be coming back. In theory.
Jack squints at the bottles across from him and just shakes his head bemusedly at the political debate. It's not his thing, to get involved in that sort of discussion. He gives a nod to C.B. and eyes the cap he left behind, perhaps wondering if he should look after it. "I can't dance." He doesn't say he doesn't dance - he's saying he can't. And doesn't seem to be the least ashamed over this fact. "Chances are I'll elbow someone in the face, there'll be a fight starting, and those cops will come in and arrest us all."
Bronwyn stares at the cap for a few beats before looking to the others. "Here's an idea. How about we melt some chocolate and put it in his hat. When he puts it on, and it starts running down his face, we can say 'I knew you had shit for brains'." This seems to bring on a laughing fit that goes for about twenty seconds before she clears her throat and blushes slightly. "Sorry, I, umm, that was pretty childish of me. Though at least I didn't say to put dog shit in it." She looks confused at Jack. "He's your friend?" A sigh and a shrug. "Sorry for fighting with him. As much as it was. I don't think he's very good at accepting the ideas of others. And don't worry about elbowing in the face. Happens all the time." She slides off the bar stool with a thud that suggested she didn't have the right distance in her head. "Both of you. Come dance!"
"There's no reasoning with an anarchist. They have no reason, only beliefs and violent tendencies." It doesn't sound judgemental in the least, in fact, it almost sounds like Velvet admires the idea of it. "I like reason, myself, but I can see how easy it is to be swayed to live a life without it. Much easier to do no wrong if everyone else are the ones who aren't right to begin with." She shoots back what is left of her drink and nudges her barstool back. "But I do think I'm going to go and make sure he doesn't get into a fist fight with a cop, and then I'm going to go home and sleep. We'll dance another night," she tells Brownyn. She starts to walk, and her movements are almost cat-like. They're precise and yet effortless. Two inch heels with a dagger sharp point and she still moves as gracefully as if she were in bare feet. "But you should try to dance with the pretty lady," she tells Jack with a pat on the shoulder. "Take one more shot of liquid courage and then show her a good time." She winks at Brownyn before offering the pair a little waggle of her fingers. "Have a wonderful night, you two." Then she's prowling through the crowd, vanishing from view before she even hits the door. How did she blend into the crowd that fast?
"He's my friend," Jack says firmly - he obviously doesn't mind C.B.s antics one wit. "Let's leave his cap alone, and you can go to Cat-22 and have long discussions - I think he likes it, to be honest." He watches Velvet, standing up from his chair, giving her a nod in farewell - and watching her slink off like that with a raised eyebrow. Impressed. "Alright, I'll dance - but don't blame me if I step on your toes." He finishes his whiskey, gestures for Bronwyn to lead the way - he's walking steadily enough, so he can hold his liquor it seems, even if his eyes are a bit glazed.
"Sure...won't touch the hat" Bronwyn smiles at Jack. "And sorry for badmouthing your friend. Yeah...not sure if I'll enjoy the long talks. I think it will be just one of us talking for the most part." And then Velvet is slinking off and getting a finger wave in return. "Take care of yourself" she calls out over the music before taking Jack's hand. "Hey, most of the dancing I do is with a circle of people trying to make it rain. We'll both be as bad as each other with this stuff."
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