Hard Lessons

[Osthavula]

A bar that provides exceptionally well drinks, and music performance every night. Besides that, nothing much, besides that twin sister running the bar, you will find one at the bar and the other singing during the performance. Hey, get your hand off the girls. We don't do that kind of business. The sister is watching you.

 

[Osthavula]

La la la la, La la la la.
Clouds are gatherin’ fast I hear.
La la la la, La la la la.
Ain’t no sign of you...

Soft melody slithered out the soft lips, a buttery treat for the drunken and the charmed. The bright purple light bounced off her dark wig, her silver dress, her shutting eyes and her fluttering lashes. The powder fog allowed the light to take shape and forms around the songstress, danced with the tapping of her heels and the swaying of her hips...

"What is it today then. " The man moved his glass, in a manner similar to the songstress. "Break up?"

The woman behind the bar looked at him, in one hand she held a metal stick, the other a cup of ice. As she stirred, the ice cubed clang delightfully with the patterned glass. "Ran away, probably. " She sighed, handily popped a liquor bottle, letting the amber liquid fall like thin silk thread.

"How many present?"

"Five in two weeks. "

The man chuckled and drank the last drop of his glass, pushing it in front of her. "I'm surprised this bar is up and running, really. Though I suppose my wallet is contributing to it. My wife won't be happy but... Here."

His finger slid some more currency beside the glass. She quickly snatched her metal peeler, skinned an orange, and twisted the orange leaf above the glass. The air smelled like orange and perfume. Handing the glass to another customer, she snatched the money just as quickly, dropping it in her drawer.

"Thank you. " Her smile was that of professional practice. "You will have one more glass?"

"No, no. Anymore and both you sisters will suck me dry. I do love her happier songs..."

A man interrupted him in the argument of how the sadder songs are better. Hitomi glanced at the floor where her sister Harumi was and found her walking over to one of the suited man, arm stretched out towards his shoulder. The man, however, did not respond so passionately, only laughed to her advance. Not a word was said, but Hitomi took another glass, dripping different bitters onto the carved ice cubes. It was no longer a secret how Harumi was actively seeking a partner, and known so much that her failures were also not too hidden. In result only the bugs and vermin swarm near, and the others...

With the same face, those vermins come to her too. But Hitomi doesn't say yes as much as her sister...

The pair who argued went closer to the tables near the stage, and yet another man came close. "Anything is fine. I've heard the bartender here is good?"

Finally, she smiled. "Silly question." Said the bartender, bottles in hand.

 

[Osthavula]

Mr_DC Zaltusinel

The glass door opened, flashing the neon blue reflection at the side of Hitomi's face. She noticed the new arrival, but only cast her gaze at the stone mortar she was muddling in, the aroma of leaves and dried spices filled the small space she occupied. Every movement she had was a classy performance, including the holding of the liquor bottles, the swinging of the shaker, the dropping of carved ice, the twirling of it with the long silver spoon, and lastly the finishing pour, rose colour liquid fell elegantly from the shaker into a strainer, then gently parted upon the tip of the ice.

She pushed the wine glass in front of the previous customer. "Rose vine, mind the temper."

The customer was of course very thrilled, from the nod he had he was very happy with the taste too. Hitomi had already turned to the man waiting, her left hand smoothly slid the white tablecloth, cleaning the already spotless table. "Apology for the wait. What would you like for a drink tonight?"

Her smile didn't waver, but her eyes did spot the woman with her uniform. This made Hitomi a little wary. The official police force was trouble around these parts, and even if she was rule-abiding, her customer would not feel at ease. There was no telling what those people would bring, like all human being, they have varied temperament and personality. Here, the trouble was the uniform itself.

Another trouble was forthcoming as well. She sensed her twin sister's gaze towards them, and it would seem her attempt at the man before had failed. Hitomi could only pray that her sister won't attempt to chat with this customer. He didn't look like immediate danger, sure. But Hitomi knew to have scepticism and doubts, thanks to everything her sister had demonstrated.

 

[Zaltusinel]

The Lingering Gash
Josef Lashinji

​

Josef rolled back his shoulders, rubbing his hands with a natural air about him. The cuffs of his jacket rose up on his arm as he leaned forward, softly lifting his lips. "I'll take some fine vodka if you supply. One shot will do. I'll also fancy a nice glass of apple cider." Josef turned his gaze slightly towards the center of the bar, a couple rougher targets. Not too terribly rough as he remembers from friends from the street. Reaching for his notepad just right of his holster to keep it concealed, he turns on his stool to face one particular rough man when a Snow Dyn approaches. Same as he saw outside, the few touches of her uniform tensed up the ratty bunches in the crowd just slightly. The small chill Josef silently wiggs out about everytime. He whispers, "Bets on one of you know something. Of course, which one won't be too hard in about an hour or so." He turns back around as she raises conversation, eyeing the man in the suit as he rolls his shoulders. Josef laced his hands together, the iridescent light show of the bar bouncing off his hair as a bird crazy for chocolate puffs. In the back of his mind, the man in the suit concerned him. 'I hope they haven't made the connection with the big arrest spree I did with their little trafficking operation. This doesn't seem like the bar to fight in, especially with Dr. Mrs. Heroine hopping up. She's bound to get in if provoked.' ('Thoughts')

"Taste comes in flavorful means, what brings you here on this usual night? The scent of adventure, the break of work, the chance of romance? However you decide, the intentions you make lead a star chart for men like me to replicate light lost to time and define the details scattered through time." He rolled his head, leaving his notepad on the table with various scribbles. Turning to the door, a couple more men walk in. Bandanas across their foreheads, sharp looks, and trouble in their eyes. Casually, they walk by. Not even glimpsing at Josef. Altogether they sit at the back table towards the singer, they lean up their feet to the table and scan around the room constantly. Bound to see Josef any second, Josef scratches his ear, holding his head away from their gaze. The slight marking of a scar on the peak of his left shoulder pops up. Rolling his shoulders again to hide it. The small drops of blood that managed to stay on the sides of his shoes were on the floor now, spilling out of his shoes. Josef's license tucked inside of his jacket's interior pocket, he pats it to ensure its presence. With his eyes slightly widened and his hands slightly twitchy, things go get a little bumpy.

"I always liked a scoop of rocky road every now and then."

[Mentions/Nearby]: Mr_DC Osthavula

 

[Osthavula]

Hearing their request, Hitomi swiftly scooped ice into a martini glass and another regular crystal cup, turned around to reach for the wooden cupboard when the group of men with bandanas came in. It was then, she caught a glimpse of Josef's shoulder and his scar. Something had gone risky in the air. It was of course not rarely seen in the slums, but most people knew better than to stir up business in the Hard Lessons. They would see the very warm welcome in the slums manner.

It was still too early to be sure of possible events.

"Your Red Orchard." She placed a black coaster in front of the Snow Dyn Officer, before placing the chilled matini glass with said drink. The drink has a bright pinkish red that looked very beautiful in the neon lights, and her eyes lingered appreciatively on it just a moment longer, before she turn to the man. "Your apple cider. " She placed the crystal cup with light ember drink on his coaster.

She smiled beautifully to him. Perhaps too perfect a smile.

"Here is your vodka shot, I picked a smoother one. What you said was interesting to hear. Made me wonder what star trail led you here."

They had picked up. The men who were argueing and discussing Harumi's singing grew slightly more quiet. A bearded man eyed the bartender behind his shades. If only her own sister could pick up the signal though, but more possibly Harumi did but refuse to take heed. The exact same face with Hitomi paced to the man, her dress swaying and her smile intentionally alluring. It should be a strange sight to look at, especially when the singer's wig was close to Hitomi's hair style today. They two stood close like a pair of doll, but painted different persona.

One watched the other shamelessly and giggly joined in the conversation.

"Hello, handsome, is this your first time around here? I'm Harumi, by the way, the singer in the club. Unlike my steely sister there, I'm usually the talker. " She held out her hand to him, and looked expectantly. "What's your name? Not that I mind calling you handsome all night. "

Zaltusinel Mr_DC

 

[Mr_DC]

Osthavula Zaltusinel
Desh pursed her lips and gave the man a slow nod. "Yeah... I think I'm a few drink behind you." She let a smile escape through her forced serious expression as she turned to face the door and leaned back on the bar. She was cautious not to accidentally tip her glass and spill the drink. What a disappointing waste that would be. Wasn't liquid gold but Ecstasy Trust certainly put the price on it like it was and weren't exactly flooding the market. It made the drink a rare pleasure rather than something to get wasted to.

The door to the bar opened once more and a pair walked in. A pair which definitely didn't belong there but had that air around them. Some weight which made it difficult for anyone to stir up trouble for them. The pair of men wore fine, black suits and leather gloves. Their hair was neatly combed and they were cleanly shaven. EICA agents. Might be difficult for someone outside more messy government business to pin them to something but anyone could conclude there was certainly something about them.

As they ran a quick scan of the Hard Lessons, Desh turned back to the bar in a flash, slipping her jacket off in one motion. A Snow Dyn wouldn't exactly blend in with the crowd but they would have to come right up to her to make out her well-known eyepatch. Not exactly a legend like her brother, Nika Desh had already made a name for herself.
Her ears twitched as she focused her attention on the pair... The footsteps began. They didn't notice her.

As far as she knew, her presence wouldn't change anything for the pair but, to sate her curiosity, Desh didn't want to interrupt them. "Hey..." She raised a finger to subtly call the girl behind the bar while quickly running her eyes across her young form. "Could you get me a bottle? Any bottle with something dark in it. Clean bottle, please." She asked, giving the girl a friendly smile and darting her eye to the man by her side. He's handsome enough to be kept busy by more attractive girls with more interest. At least until Desh would get bored of the spy game going on behind her back.

 

[Sir Knight]

Hard Lessons eh? A curious name for a bar, thought Richard Eleison as he walked into said bar. His black robes blended in with the more darker areas of the place, with his golden cross being the only think that alerted others of his presence.

They eyed the swaying cross warily. Priests weren't supposed to be seen in establishments such as these. But he never cared for the norms and morals set up for the holy men and women of clergy. And he was here for a reason that differed from just a stiff drink or two. No, he was here for the more active works of the Covenant.

It was dangerous for him to brazenly accept a meeting like this. Yet he was confident in his skills. If push came the shove, defence wouldn't be too much of a hassle. And then there was his...backup.

Red eyes glanced to the side, taking note a gentleman in black before carrying onwards. All was well. Time to meet a few people of notice.

A bright smile came upon his face as he spotted who he was looking for. Of course, he never knew what they looked like. But he knew. His red eyes gleamed even though there was no light. He knew they were the ones who requested his presence.

Gentle footsteps led the way. His smile gleamed as he addressed them. 'You called?'

This was certainly going to be a fun day.

Mr_DC

 

[Zaltusinel]

The Lingering Gash
Josef Lashinji

Spoiler: Position Music

​

Josef lightly turned his stool to face Hitomi, sipping of his cider. His ears calmly listened as Hitomi smoothly talked with him. His leather jacket stayed on smugly as he responded quietly, "The name's Josef, I work in the business of reading the past from bodies and crime scenes. A sort of short-term archeology job. A more commonly known profession as a private detective." His voice sank low as he spoke of his job. He eyed the suited men and the other suspicious persons. He lightly laid his hand farthest from Hitomi, his left, then looking at Harumi briefly to be polite. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the bar counter, counting seconds with a little cadence.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi; each second suddenly crawled, legs evaporated by bullets. The mirror behind the bar lent an appropriate angle for Josef to discretely monitor the bandana gang members. His phone opens up to a barely readable screen full of notes. A set of pictures of initiation tattoos, uniform pieces, and gang symbology popped up as he compared the rougher men. The lack of shaving, old age, and obvious drug destroyed skin; Josef found his "phenotype" for the contractor of the blackmail. While the VIPer gang was a lower end gang, their sudden proficiency in covert operations and seemingly elevation of their schemes had Josef on edge. 'The boys went home after all these months.' Josef laid his right hand near his holster, rolling his shoulders.

The youngest of the squad ran up on Josef quickly, he placed his hand on his shoulder. A teenish blonde with a very sickly, thin build. Almost comical, his hand barely felt more than a bone. Josef looked to the Dyn beside him, much-wishing cover as he had. He smiled at her with a squint of his eyes. He turned around, knocking the boy's hand away quickly.

"I don't want trouble, run along now. Your comrades know I what I do in the flames of the spitting fire." The sickly grunt gulped, raising a gun to Josef's face. Twitching left hand, Josef bit down on his teeth as he slowly rose his right hand to move the business end away. "Start this here, and it will end you. I know you want revenge Michel Jong, but I cannot stand by and let you fall into the abyss they call paradise." A pointed finger at the others.

"Kill him Mocker, don't let his games and lies fool you."

"I'm the liar now, bahaha. I wonder where your brain cells go." Suddenly swiping the gun from "Mocker"'s hands, Josef knocked his chest with the but of the gun with a release of his own from the holster, falling into his left hand. Mocker stepped back, falling out of the building through the odd open window. Josef gazes to his right, seeing the rougher, ambiguous gentlemen now holding their holsters.

"We have you now Archangel." He huffed a cough before smiling again. The youngest quick fired his back gun, shattering the mirror behind Josef, blatantly missing. Josef rolls out over to the young boy, pulling the trigger right below his neck before the slower older druggies could react. Josef aimed dead center for the bandanas, a ruffian from the side aimed his pistol.

"Another bites the dust.... Sorry ladies for the mess. I'll pay you back for the damage, don't worry." Josef tensed up, before going full chill. His body completely relaxed. His back flush with the back of his head. The door creaks open, with a man in a victorian suit with a small revolver. Josef nods to him. "Well, I wouldn't expect you here driver."

"Your brother's tidings."

A sudden standoff...

[Mentions/Nearby]: Mr_DC Osthavula

OOC: (I may have overextended here. If I need to ratchet back, let me know. Cheers.)

 

[Mr_DC]

Osthavula Zaltusinel
Desh threw herself over the bar when she heard the first gunshot, knocking her drink over. While her first reaction was a disappointed gaze down at the smashed glass and spilled drink, Desh quickly got over it and drew her gun. Someone died. She closed her eye, hearing the thump of what had to be a body hitting the floor. There were no nights off for those maintaining the safety of others. Shame she didn't react sooner. A life could have been saved.

"Hands up!" Desh roared, kneeling behind the bar and resting her strong arms on it. Her aim was on the closest man to the bar. The one she considered handsome before. A self-proclaimed private detective. "You're under arrest." She growled. While her gun was steadily aimed at the man, her eye targeted a newcomer who seemed to have been in the middle of a something with her target.

Only now that the situation seemed to be firmly in her control did Desh get a moment to analyze her own situation. Her upper torso was the only thing that could be targeted by anyone other than the bartender who probably wouldn't get involved with matters of law. There was a risk of getting her skull cracked open by the friendly barkeep wielding a bottle but the risk was negligible enough to keep her back to the woman. She seemed to have a drop on either of the men but was dangerously outnumbered if the rest of the bar wanted to have a say in the situation.

"Drop the gun... And put your hands up." Desh ordered, looking back at the private detective she targeted for a moment before she looked back at the other man. She might have one eye but she wasn't blind enough not to spot a movement from her target.

Sir Knight
"Good distraction." One of the agents' lips curled into a smirk as the situation developed. The pair didn't seem to be even slightly bothered by the rising tensions even after the guns have been fired. They did keep their arms crossed on their chest - each of them keeping one hand inside their suit. "We have a message for you... Father." The man lowered his tone to try and blend into the sudden silence.

"A man died last week and donated all his worldly possessions to the church." The other man continued. They looked perfectly nameless. Interchangeable with dozens of other agents with dozens of other employers. They were only distinct in the fact that every inch of them screamed secret agent. Only EICA was so bold, though. Everyone else would hide in dark alleys or thick forests, looking around nervously for any sign of the government. Not EICA agents.

"This is the address." The first man slid a tiny slip of paper across the table. "Our friends will help you carry the stuff out so don't be spooked by their presence." The first man paused and the second man leaned in. "We would like you to extend your luck to others and share your gift with others during the charity event at the Prime Pleasure Palace." The man cocked his eyebrow, watching the priest for any sign of whether the message was understood. At least the last part was direct. Ecstasy Trust was holding a charity event for the addicts during the weekend in their Pleasure Palace in Prime. The government said either Victor Black or the director himself would visit to support the event.
"Understand?" The first agent whispered.

 

[Osthavula]

Spoiler

Harumi was not happy that she was largely ignored, especially when the man's word seemed to only contain himself and not a presence of interest in her. Then she saw her sister nodded and scowled as Josef was distracted by another man, and a strong arm swept her by the waist and pulled her away. Hitomi watched the old customer dragging her sister out of the door, her dark eyes now looked back to the detective with sinking anger. The customers, at least the ones from the slums, were all sensitive to the air and Hitomi's signal. In a short moment all that would escape escaped, but more than that the men and women who were capable remained, bottles and blunt objects in hand, eyeing the troublemakers threateningly. The bartender swept her tools down in a cloth in one quick action, before ducking behind the counter, wrapped cloth with tools was then tucked into the cabinets below.

The calmness in her was as if it happened before.

"You will see that I did not start it, officer. We don't break laws. " Said the bartender in a calm fashion, reaching for the thickest bottle she knew on the shelf. This was right after Desh jumped over the counter. At this very moment, she knew that the snow dyn did not bring in the trouble. If it was possible, the dyn might be able to help her cease this nonsense.

The man.

She rose again. The residents of the slums guarded some parts of the bar for her, ready to punish any foolish action happening. Good. The bar's reputation and her past service did not go to waste. This is a place where battle ceases and the slums get to enjoy their leisure time, they will soon learn the hard lesson of causing trouble in their bar.

"Paying back? You need to pay for the damage and the trouble cost. I'll make sure not a penny is unpaid."

Mr_DC Zaltusinel Sir Knight

 

[Sir Knight]

The red-eyed priest simply tilted his head as he smiled. 'All is clear my brothers. May his soul rest in the eternal sleep granted by the Lord.' Pale hands clasped in prayer as he bowed his head. 'Very well then.'

The address was quickly memorised before it disappeared under the black garments of the priest. 'I won't come alone. And I'll be sure our brothers receive their share. Almsgiving is a virtue after all.'

When it came to business conducted in the shadows, he was the one who played that game. If Reinol was to be the public face, the speaker, and the planner, then he was the shadow, the knife, and the muscle. To him, actions spoke louder than words. Not in all occasions of course. But when it came to matters like these, then there can be no further Gospel.

Eleison gave a low chuckle. His voice was nary a whisper yet was loud enough for them to hear him. The priest bent low, seeking the protection of a nearby crouch. Red eyes that brimmed with curiosity scanned the scene before him. 'My my, what an occasion.'

The murder was rather surprising. That certainly was on the last things of what he'd expect to happen in the bar. The response of the customers slightly more so. Perhaps he underestimated the popularity of this establishment.

He longed to stay and watch the battle unfold before him. Much so to take part. But alas, duty called. It was far too early to play his hand. Keeping his cards close to his chest was the best option for now. Another day.

'I suppose I must take my leave. May the Lord watch over you.' Eleison backed away slowly, blending into the darkness, making sure to stay in cover as he inched his way towards the exit. Yet he eagerly scanned the area as he did so, watching and waiting. If he can't act in this scene then he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Mr_DC Osthavula Zaltusinel

 

[Zaltusinel]

The Lingering Gash
Josef Lashinji

​

A soft grunt as both pistols stayed true to the two older gentlemen, while Josef was distracted with the police officer. The two older gentle druggies had an SMG each, older but perfectly capable of killing. The man off to the far right held out a rifle, burst fire from first glances. The bar itself was extremely tense, something that seemed to place and not in this particular bar. Josef felt for the strap of his rifle. The strap laid across his shirt nicely, directly across his chest. He sighed, mostly in relief, a tinge of frustration. His hands adjust the grip on his pistols, eyeing all three gun wielders. The two bandanaed men eyed one another, behind the table they crouched. The one to Josef's left pointed his gun at Nika and simply laughed. The other stayed silent, holding his aim.

"Okay miss, I'll totally comply." The bandanaed man chuckled as he almost pulled the trigger four times. "What are you going to do, tell me the law?"

Josef rolled his eyes, "You couldn't be dumber..." A loud ding went off in the room, buzzing briefly in Josef's pocket. He ignored it, staying focused on the men.

"Come on pretty boy, what you going to do, The Phoenix of the Slums is waiting for you. Says he wants to "talk" with you" The man on the right spoke. His grizzly black hair denoted him as more of the gangster than the others. His arms were almost perfectly still, the way he held the gun was drilled way too hard.

"So an old war veteran becomes the villain he fought against. Sad indeed. Like a good hitter, he eventually washed up by steroids. Why do you work for the Gesalt gang?"

"Because they know better than to buy corporate shit. You will never know the shit we get down here, your damn brother makes sure of that." The vet shrieked at Josef, barreling down on the gun. Ready to shoot through the entire mag in controlled bursts. "Your little acrobatics pansy shit won't work on me."

The silent bandana spoke, "Control yourself Hanzo, he'll be worth a pretty penny to ransom back. Teach the corporate dogs a lesson."

Hanzo wiped his anger to frustration, "No one will pay it. Either we kill him now or let him figure out how to escape us again. He'll figure out our operations, that fucking Dyn will probably follow him to be the little bitch that military police are these days. They had no honor back in my day, they especially don't do now." He jittered for a moment, but not very long.

Josef eyed back briefly, "Don't assume things, darling. I'll help pay because I attract the rougher crowd, as my profession suggests."

[Mentions/Nearby]: Mr_DC Osthavula Sir Knight