Searching for answers (Open)

[cian_oneill]

It had been three weeks since Hallowe'en, and still nothing had come to light about the vampire who had lead the bloodbath at the Shark Tank. Cian had prowled the street when he could, spending more nights in Vegas since the attack than he usually did. He finally figured the one place he might be able to find out something, and after sourcing the password, and satisfying the bouncer, he walked into Seventh Circle and headed for the bar.

If there was anywhere that information on the activities in the demon world could bandied about like schoolgirl gossip, it would be here.

"Whiskey," he told the bartender, leaning an elbow on the bar and starting to survey the area, seeing who was there, and more importantly, what.

Comments

Re: Searching for answers

[cian_oneill]

"Last one o' the night's usually the big one," he told her, eyeing the fight as he continued talking, "and I guess it depends on the body," he added, never having bothered with the details like that. That was what management was there for.

"S' you new in town?" he asked, noting the reference to Hollywood.

Re: Searching for answers

[tiny_dancer81]

"Sort of. I came out a few months ago after some personal issues cropped up. The desert's a lot quieter than the Boulevard was."

She wasn't going to mention Dane. As companionable as Irish might be, it was severely unlikely that he'd care about her sire ending up in a puddle of gasoline. "And you're not from around here either," she remarked. "California's a lot closer to Nevada than Ireland is."

Re: Searching for answers

[cian_oneill]

"Been on the road a while," he replied, leaning down and resting his elbows on a counter than ran between two poles, provided for patrons so they had somewhere to put their drinks while they paid up their debts, or took in their winnings. It's surface was sticky, with what was anyone's guess, but it helped Cian talk to her without shouting. "Had a few personal issues too," he added with a grin. "Figured it w' time t' see how the other half live." He took a sip from his glass, the fight now reaching the point where the punters were screaming their encouragement to the one carrying their bets, and the volume was increasing.

He laughed and indicated the rowdy crowd with a jerk of his head, his voice lifting to be heard above it. "No' so quiet now!"

Re: Searching for answers

[tiny_dancer81]

She laughed too, the sound getting almost immediately drowned out in the midst of the yelling and cursing, and one of the fighters went reeling backwards to crash-land on his ass on the concrete floor. The fervor of the betting increased. The smell of demon blood was getting heavy in the air.

"So what do you do when you're not hanging out here?" the vampire asked once the volume had subsided. "As you can tell, sunlight is not exactly my thing, so how does the half with a pulse live?"

Re: Searching for answers

[cian_oneill]

He gave her a half grin. "Out in the sun a lot," he answered, almost apologetically. "Work wi' motors mostly." He looked at her and inclined his head. "Wha' d' y' do for a quid when y' gotta explain t' y' boss why he can't 'ave a photo f' ID?"

Re: Searching for answers

[tiny_dancer81]

Well, she sure as fuck wasn't going to tell him what she used to do.

"I got this job at a club called the Dive," Theresa answered, lifting her beer to her mouth. "It's, like, a probation period until I prove I can do the work. I book bands and help get the word out."

The crowd erupted into a fresh set of cheers, and it took a while for the sonic wave to subside. When it was moderately quieter, the vampire said, "I did have to break it to the manager about...y'know. But I only told him because he wouldn't agree to letting me come in after dark. I know I'm not really old yet, but I'm not dense."

Re: Searching for answers

[cian_oneill]

He knew the place, and it took only a few moments to click as to why the name was more than just one he knew from seeing it, or hearing it advertised. "Heard of it," he said, nodding, "owner's a guy by th' name o' Mike?" he asked, remembering the older guy from the time at the coffee shop. "How'd 'e handle it, when y' told 'im?"