Midsommer's Night Run

[cian_oneill]

It was almost as regular as clockwork, heading up to Searchlight on a Wednesday night for a few beers and a game or two. Cian went to the Golden Nugget, probably the most regular watering hole, for someone who didn't have regular places. Sometimes he went all the way to Vegas, but usually didn't bother. The noise of the big casinos usually hurt his ears, and the smell of fumes on the strip was something he could do without.

Like this Wednesday, when he just went up to the bar and ordered himself a beer, taking it over to a table and sitting down. After taking a long swig he leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him, as he continued to survey the other occupants of the place.

Comments

[rhiannon_lee]

In keeping with tradition, she stole one of his fries. “If you keep on knowing me, I think you’ll find I’m an action sort of girl.” Rhiannon might be wrong, but she thought she detected a minor chord in his personality: darkness tempered by decency. She hoped she was right. It seemed that those she responded to best weren’t squeaky clean, had perhaps been down ambiguous roads before and come out on generally the right side of things.

“Have you ever met someone like me before?” She folded her forearms on the table.

[cian_oneill]

"Not t' talk to," he admitted, tapping the basket till it was easier for her to reach. "There was someone, back in Ireland, who used t' be ... well, she was kept busy."

His 'demons' had all been human, and they were all laid to rest now, not directly by him, but his message had been made clear to each of them. And were the reason he'd left Ireland.

"Heard o' y' kind out here, murmurs and whispers, dark alleys and the places normal folk don't venture if they're smart."