Open Bar (Open)

[Kiera]

Kiera collapsed onto one of the stools that was pushed up against the bar, taking the chance for a little break during a momentary lull in the number of raucous customers in the bar. In a subconscious movement she reached up and fingered the steel loop on her collar, looking around.

She was bored, she realized suddenly. As busy as it was, being that it was a Saturday night and even the humans were coming out in swarms, she was bored. It had been nearly a week since she had come to the bar under Logan's wing and already she had fallen into a pattern. She woke - sometimes with the not so gentle aid of Logan's rough voice or boot when she wasn't quick enough to wake on her own - she fed, and she came to work.

She was quickly finding that she was comfortable with that pattern, which was a problem in and of itself in her opinion. It was never good to get too comfortable with anything, eventually something would change or someone would come around and fuck it up and you'd be in a world of hurt.

Still, she enjoyed feeding, especially when she managed to leave her helpless victim alive. It made her feel powerful, seducing men - and once a woman - for their blood, and their money. She didn't even have to do that much if she didn't want to- and usually she didn't want to. Most of the men she found in this area stank of alcohol or drugs or just from lack of bathing. She found that the most enticing ones were all patrons of Logan's bar, and she wasn't interested enough in getting a real beating to walk down that road.

Most of the men had some kind of cash on them too, and she always made sure she got her fair share. If they survived her appetite she only took half of what was in their wallets, but if they died anything was fair game. She'd acquired a fair amount of cash already, mostly because she wasn't very good at keeping the poor idiots alive yet. The first one of the night always died, the second one usually had a better chance.

So far, she'd even acquired another pocket knife, a fairly decent watch she thought she could pawn, and a hand gun. Everything she had managed to get so far, including the cash, was stashed in a small cubby hole under a floorboard she had pried up in the office floor, under the couch. Her tips were there too, and she was proud to say those were growing nightly. She was quickly learning to put on a nice smile for the humans, and use her sex appeal whenever she thought it might get her something more.

It was the brujah customers that she really enjoyed though, those were the ones that kept it lively. There was nothing like the rush of breaking up a fight . . . or joining one. And fights, it seemed, were doled out as often as drinks around here. Verbal fights, if they werent' stopped quickly, always turned into fist fights, and even weapons popped out now and then. Already she was gaining a familiarity with the patterns, although she still couldn't tell who was gonna be the worst just by appearance. She was going to have to work on that.

She'd only been sitting about five minutes when the door to the bar swung open and a group of the blood suckers wandered in. She sighed and made a show of looking put out when the bartender looked at her, but she was on her feet in no time,and at the table almost before they had gotten sat down. They were a lively bunch, which was encouraging. She could only hope there'd be a good fight before the evening was out.

"What's your poison, boys and girls?"

[Wade]

Man I tell ya, the new Gilligan's Island sucks. I mean sure, they got a higher budget, and one fuck of a bigger cast, but all the characters got fucked to hell and gone. Pullin out Gilligan and replacin him with some dweeb that talks like gambit, makin the millionaire and is wife korean....the proffessor is some bald guy who hates wheelchairs. Skipper is the only one who can keep his shit together, an thats only cause Cheech Marin is his fuckin dad!

Yeah, I'm glad this series is goin far the fuck away from me. I've had enough of them mind fuckin the fans. Like Dallas all over again.

Course I don't know where they get off callin the series Lost anyway. Only thing I see ehm losin is ratings by replacin the hot redhead with a preggers Ozzy. What a load of shit.

Course, with my TV watchin of the night over that also means I got some free time, so I figure its time to go do some partyin, maybe check up on some loose ends.

Brujah motherfucker who made a kid at a rave is still avoidin me somehows...not sure how exactly, but I do know he's around these parts some fuckin place. Trackin down a Brujah in a city full of ehm, in a city filled with ehm is a real hassle though.

I catch my break about a third of the way through the night, pushin some dumbass ghould into a wall, bringin his arm to full extension behind his back before her fesses up to knowin who the guy is, where he's at. Directions point me back towards the Princess Bar, and thats quite the kick in the head. Hangin out near the chick thats going to get your ass staked....that almost calls for a drink.

I give Oz a ring for drinks an invite him to join me there, and then head across town, paddin through the Brujah section of town nice an easy, most rabble havin enough fuckin sense not to piss me off.

When I make it to the bar I push open the door real careful, givin the room a good look, and keepin my eyes open for reactions from the crowd. One in particular grabs me, some scruffy guy hangin out way in the corner, sittin by himself, with eyes that go really big when he sees me, bigger when he sees that I'm seein him.

Mr. Ed, I think we have a winner.

I make my way across the bar straightaway, not botherin with subtly, and finally snaggin a chair from his table, spinnin it around to sit next next to him, ass backwards on the chair. Metal chair back should work for stoppin the bullets he's thinkin bout sendin my way.

I give him a grin, and then speak slowly, just high enough that those in the area can make out what I'm sayin, and know better than to interfere with whats about to go down.

"Well evenin there Mr......Johnson is it? I lost track o' the names inbetween the list I managed to scrounge together. You've gotten a lot of ehm in the short ass life you've had as a vamp. Guess I can probably admire that....not gonna, but I could. Tell ya I've had myself a hell of a time trackin you down. Hella time....but I got ya now."

My grin widens as I hear the door open behind me, an the telltale stink of Oz enterin the bar. Gangrel Mofo stinkin bout as bad as usual. At least I only smell like blood.

I give a glance his direction an wavin him over, makin eye contact with some asian waitress at the same time, holdin up three fingers to indicate drinks from her before I shift my gaze back to the mark, who's paler than average for a vampire, and would probably be swettin if he could.

"So's how's breakin the masquerade workin out for ya shitstain? Havin fun pissin off the prince?"

[Ozzy]

* been slow as of late. Teaching a pup the ropes kinda kills the usual kinda hell I'm used to raising. Gotta at least try to keep her outta the limelight before we get everything straightened out. Sides... got the final episode a that 'Lost' I got the misfortune a gettin sucked-into a few years back. Gotta find out how all a this brain-fucked shit turns out.*

* still as ruddy confused as I was when I first started watching it.*

* Still trying to wrap my noggin around all these damn revelations ulterior meanin when I get a call from Wade. Invite out for a drink... and yeah while I'm never one to give up a pint.... he's callin me up to a shit-hole bar in shit-hole neighborhood.... which wouldn't' be that bad if it weren't Brujah territory. That crazy sonova malk...Never has any true concept of danger, even BEFORE becoming the scourge. Still... the booze.*

* Fuzzy dice dangle from the mirror as I drive through what could be called the proverbial valley of the shadow of death. Damn place looks as tore up as London after Christmas... and the kind of people shooting me the stink eye don't give me re-assurances either. Bikers, Thugs... all kinds a rabblerowsers. The kinda gents who'd break your arm or split your skull without a second thought.*

* I take a swig from my flask and shove it back down into my shirt pocket. God damn Wade, you'd better be fittin the bill for draggin me down to Brujah country*

* Pull up to the shit-hole of a bar callin itself the 'Princess' of all things... don't look like any princess I ever seen. Then again I ain't seen many princesses. I just sigh, see in the gorilla's standin out front, givin me the same kinda stink eye, and eying my ride. Just what I need, that naggin little feelin that I'll walk out and find they've stripped 'er bare. This leaves me a not-so-subtle way of gettin the point across. I park the rust-bucket out front, and on my way out grab two items out of the back. The first, an ole Louisville slugger, that I place on the front seat. The second bein... a dead pigeon, which I flop down on the hood for all to see.*

* Man you should see all of 'em scramble the second they see the pigeon. Well... most 'of em at least. It takes a few seconds for the nuance ta kick in. That ride has just been declared as Wades property. It leaves the message that if there's a scratch, we will hunt them down and, well, not even divine intervention could save you.*

* tis about that point they just part like the ole red sea, and let me pass on in. Goes double fer the Brujah who are scuttling out like rats from a sinkin ship.*

*Even if I couldn't hear him inside, I know this must be the place.*

* Walk on in and it's like that part in the ole westerns where Clint comes to town... course it likely has nothing to do with bad-assedness or anything. Can tell by the expression on their faces what it's about. I give meself a quick sniff and I still can't tell what all the fuss is about. Over in the corner, I see the crazy buggah sittin at a table, parked ass backwards on a chair, with some pale lookin Bruj cornered against the wall on the other side a the table. Wade's wavin me over b'fore signaling this Asian waitress fer a pint.*

* Course I ain't halfway cross before I my canine ears pick up on their conversation. Seems this blimey git's gone and broken the big one. Reproducing without a permit. Not that suprisin, seein as their attitude towards authority. You'd think they'd learn... but nah. Takes the occasional skull-splitting to get every-ones attention.*

" Oy... bit'o a sti'ey wi'et we gots eah.... ain et? 'F oyd nawn is'd be aff'cul bid'ness, oy'd bring me gud ladies 'at 'long fer th 'ccasion."

* I move on up, take up point to Wades Left to cut off his line of retreat. I flash him my not-so Perlies as I Flop down, proppin my feet up on another chair to further block off any stupid moves he might make.*

" Johnsun... Johnsun.... aye, 'ats anutha whun ye yanks use 'fer a prick... ain 'it?"

[Kiera]

"What the fuck did he just say?" Kiera walked up to the table just as the Gangrel walked in, and she might have known what he was if it weren't for his smell. Kind of like a dead animal. Not that all Gangrel's smelled like dead animals, but she was finding that they were more likely to.

Kiera looked at the three now crowded around the table, mostly disinterested, until she recognized Wade.

"Aw seriously, what the hell are you doing here? Aren't you like the Blood-sucker version of the Terminator?" SHe looked over at the Brujah in the corner that was growing paler by the minute, then back to Wade and the smelly one.

"If yer gonna kill him do it outside, I don't want to have to clean up the blood. What do you want to drink."

She knew she probably should have been a little less curt, but as the night went on she was getting crankier, and there was something about that Brujah that was rubbing at her. She looked at him again, closer, and she knew she should recognize him, but she didn't know why. He made her hair stand on end though, and she felt the urge to bare her fangs.

"Seriously dude, order, before your friend chokes me up and I die again. God, ever heard of a shower." She turned her head at the Gangrel, " . . . . or a flea bath . . . screw that . . , just do us all a favor and go jump in some bleach."

[Wade]

What is it about Brujah that gives ehm such a fuckin mouth, eh? Here I am, out of the kindness and cockles of my undead heart huntin down the loser what vamped her skanky ass without permission, and what do I get for it? Lip. Nothing but lip. Really, its almost too much to bear. Almost like the bitch is Askin to get her ass shot.

Not that she ain't got a point about Oz's smell. Kain knows the last time the fucker took a bath.

Not that its exactly my primary interest just at the moment. Kinda more focussed on the MoFo I'm gonna enjoy gutting...possibly even more now that i know it'll upset the jap bitch to do it in here...though she is the Prim's pet, and this is his bar....hmmm...

Ah well, burn that bridge when I come to it...from orbit...with a nuke.

Anyways bitch ain't gonna leave well enough alone till we order, so I make that quick, givin her a jagged grin as I hold up three fingers again.

"Three Red and talls, heavy on the vodka. Our friend here deserves himself a good last drink before we go and beat him to death before leaving his bleeding carcass for the pigeons and the sunrise...its gonna be fun on a bun!"

Orders dispensed, I turn back to our guy, smiling real wide as I continue our conversation of a moment ago, picking up as Ozzy left it.

"Yeah Oz, Johnson means dick...which kinda fits given that he's gettin his cut off for tryin to stick it into that prize piece of ass that just took our order. Didn't your mommy never tell ya not to go vampin without the prince's permission? Anarchy is fun an all...but you Had ta know this one was gonna come back to bite you in the fuckin ass. You're just lucky its Us dealin with you...I wouldn't want to think what the new Primogen runnin you rabble would do to you if he caught you before us....ain't like you guys are known for your kind natures and loving spirits..."

Seems like I hit a sore spot with that because he starts to shift one hand down under the table, no doubt reaching for whatever piece he's got hidden there...nice try....I'm more than fast enough to nail his hand to the table with a combat knife before he's halfway to the edge. Going slow don't work when you're up against someone that can go fast. Guy screams like a wuss too...What kinda shitty second class Brujah they breedin nowadays anyhow? I'd have pulled the knife out and thrown at the other guy by now.

Loser.

"Now ya see, that was just stupid. Me an Oz, we ain't here to kill you right off...admittingly thats in the works, but it ain't right at the top of my list. We'll be doing it at dawn, and thats still some ways off. Now, we can spend that time knockin back some booze and eyein your hawtsome progeny...or we can pass the time cuttin off your fingers and limbs in reverse alphabetical order. Seems to me like you want to skip right to that part...That ain't gonna work. Oz, you be a pall and take away out friends toys? Hate for him to have to perfect his jesus impersonation too soon..."

[Ozzy]

* This hot little Asian waitress coming up... has to give me pause to chuckle since she can't seem to decipher what I've asked through me accent. If this where any other night I could lay on the cockney and annoy the hell out of her. But business before pleasure*

* Once again... Wade's reputation has preceded him, it takes her half a tic before she recognizes him... unlike so many, she seems more annoyed than anything, snarkin at us to drag this wanker out back when we kill 'im... BEFORE even bothering to ask for a drink. Her tone's a might insolent and impatient... even goes as far as to crack wise about my unique musk. Asking when I last bathed. *

* girl must have serious clout to get away with itl...*

"Showah yu sae?"

* I ask myself... pretending to be in deep thought. Man she is a testy little biscuit. Thats the thing with these Brujah lasses... always seem to have woken up on the wrong side of the coffin. Wade uncharacteristically shrugs off her bitchiness and orders a round, insisting the wanker get a last nosh before the big sleep.*

"Noap...oynt nevah 'erd a sooch a 'ing. Woot... sum koind'a 'inky bit yu lids 'ondahd up? Got'a sae... dunna gu fer 'at koind 'a thin."

* I say with a bit've a smirk meself before she heads out. *

* Wade turns back... a wide and downright unsettling look on his burnt kisser... gives a confirmed low-down of whats going down. Dumbarse broke protocol and about to get capped. Stupidity an fear seem ta get the best of him... as Wade starts to tell him he's lucky their Primogen didn't find him first... that's when the dumb little wanker moves for a piece. His only thanks being a bowie-knife nailing his hand down to the table, the pansy screaming like a baby.*

* Bar is starting to look pretty empty about now.*

* Wade, naturally, ain't too impressed with either his stupidity or his pansiness. He likely just lost 5 minutes of continued un-life because of this stunt... or prolonged it by another 5 minutes of suffering... dependin on Wades mood. After making this wanker turn even paler with a little 'pep talk', he asks me to frisk the bugger.*

* Kinda hard to pat the bastard down being he's nailed to the table... not impossible.*

" 'Oight... goh a satdey noight special, pare o throwun bloyds, swichbloyd, boikchayn, jacknoif, bag 'a sumthin, smokebox... seems tae be dandy nuw."

* I say out, naming everything as I throw it down onto the table with various clangin sounds. Who does this git think he is, jack the ripper? I just have to rattle the bag around a little bit. Looks like downers or some crap like that. I take a closer look at the little plastic baggie. Little white pills which I doubt are aspirin. Then we get to the smoke box... an old silver number that used ta hold stogies... but upon openin it... you find a few glass vials filled with... somethin, along with a syringe and spare needles.*

* As the twerp sits there in agony, still writing in pain from bein crucified on the table... I give him an overenthused slap across his back.*

" Luks loik we Goh us a wun lass 'ospitul roigh 'ere. Dinne yuir Mum tell yu tae jus sae no?"

[Kiera]

Kiera muttered something unkind on her way back to the bar, handing over the order to the bartender and waiting impatiently. SHe tapped her foot, one eye on the only table that really interested her- quickly becoming the only table in the bar.

When she finally had the drinks she strutted back over and slammed them down on the table. SHe looked at the knife in the guys hand, and she could smell his blood. It made her shudder, there was a familiarity there.

"Seriously, Logan will fucking kill me if I let you bleed him out in here. Who is this asshole anyway?" She tilted her head at the man and leaned a bit closer, as if trying to get a better look. It really pissed her off that he seemed so familiar, and yet she had no fucking idea who he was.

"What'd he do, fuck yer girlfriend in the ass?"

She didnt' care that she was pushing her limits. She really wasn't all that scared of Wade, especially since he was on what she considered her home turf. Besides, she was protected by Logan, right? She could push a few buttons if she wanted.

"Damn, his blood is seeping right into the fucking table."

[Wade]

Tell ya, these asian broads got all the attitude in the world...if I was Logan I might consider investin in a muzzle for the little bitch...Still, hell of a lot easier to answer the question and get her out of my cowl than to beat her senseless against the bar an rape her ass....okay maybe only Slightly easier...and but about as fun.

I reach over, palming one of the throwing daggers and then carefully moving it across my hands, twirling it like a card sharp with a good deck of cards, handling the blade lightly as I give her a slow smile.

"This prick? Well for starters, he ain't even technicly supposed to be in the city...didn't clear it with the bosslady. Stupid enough to start, but our boy aparently wasn't happy with gettin a few lashes, nosirree bob, he had to go an sire a kid on the prince. Some asian skank of no particular import...I think ya know who I'm talkin bout. Anyways, witht hat masterstoke of a fuckup under his belt, the loser decided Not to do the smart thing and run his ass outta town...an instead I have it on good authority he's been frequentin this sty, aparently lookin for his bastard childer...that'd be you...So I'm guessin the girl whose skinny yellow ass he's been fuckin would be yours. I got that about right Oz? Yeah, anyway, in the interests of this great city, I have been charged with makin sure his sorry ass gets staked, and I plan to have some fun doin that before dawn. If he's a good boy I might actually leave him some tender parts intact for the whole show...So yeah, I'm thinkin Logan will like me takin care of business just fine round here. Probably wish he coulda seen me work. In any case, it ain't him I'm workin for, and he can take up the tab with the prince if thats what he wants....Though frankly I think its a small price to pay for losin this piece of shit anarch fuck."

I turn my attentions back to Johnson, givin him a pat on the back as I continue my talk, playin nice for the time being.

"Hella daughter you got there Joey, ya don't mind if I call ya Joey do ya? Mr Johnson seems a bit formal all things considered, what with me bein about to kill you, and stabbin you in the hand, and nickin off an eyebrow..."

I give him a second to consider that before I bring the dagger to bear, flicking it just under the skin of his brow, and cleanly sepperating hair and flesh from the bone beneath. His scream only helps the process along as I carefully collect the eyebrow, holding it up to inspect before tucking it away in a pocket

"Can always use a spare one of those, ya know?"

[Ozzy]

* The pissy lass wastes no time in brining over this wankers last round. Her mood ain't improved none either. Slams the pints down then impolitely elaborates on how this bar's Primogen Proprietor is going to gut her if we make too big of a mess... then quite crudely asks who he is and what he did.*

* I just pull out my little pack of Snausages, calmly munchin away as Wade gets inta detail... since I really don't know that much myself. Already know about the childing without permission... had no real idear that this pissy lass was the product of that indiscretion. Quite the plot twist, ain't it? Wade moves up, getting downright civil, pattin him on the back and getting all chummy, dispersing with formalities since we are about to kill him..*

* Right before takes one of the bastards daggers, the one he's been playing with the whole time, and uses it to scalp off an eyebrow. Ah the ole eyebrow stick. One a Wades many personal ticks he has about 'im. Poor bugger was already a crispy critter long before he was turned. Doin EOD work in Desert storm, Caught in an explosion in Kuwait, probably tryin to defuse ona Sadam's party favors... dunno, it's about the only version I've herd on the subject that doesn't envolve Space Invaders or Spider Monkeys. Anyways, poor bloke has no hair over his entire body. One of his little quirks is to scalp his targets's eyebrows an either keep 'em in his trophy-case, or stitch 'em over his eyes.*

* They last a while with the vamp blood, but eventually they dry up, or get damaged. Hell, sometimes he even yanks 'em off.*

* The bloody wanks's still screamin, blood streamin down his face as he curses everyone in sight. That just leaves the 3 of us of course. After already finishing my own during, move his over... just waiting for my cue.*

* Still hyperventalatin... he reaches for it... and I start pulling it back... then he reaches further up.... and I just slide it back further... I wait til he's leanin across the table before I jump up, grab the back of his head, and slam him face first right down into the table. Leaving him to reel back, grabbin his face and whimpering as I take back his drink*

" Sorreh mate... if yeh aint gunne sturt be'avein, ye aint be 'aveun a foinal nosh."

* The wanker didn't 'specially like that... like a hurt little babe he starts cursing me out specifically... throwing out terms like 'kike' an then proceeding to talk smack about me Mum.*

* That bit of disrespect gets me a might hot under the collar... I slip a might... lettin my animalism slip as I reach over and grab his collar... and put some fear of the hereafter into this little waste of space... not that he or the other two can really understand what I'm sayin... not sure I do either... as I begin to curse him out in Germanic Yiddish. Not that he has to, that he's staring an angry mongrel like me in the eyes.*

* I drop the little bastard, then turn to the door... but as I slip back from wolf-man into my normal sexy self, I turn to wade to explain my departure.*

" Be back 'n 'alf a tick... gunna fetch me 'at."

[Kiera]

Kiera could feel her rage hit the ceiling as she looked from Wade back to the bloodsucker he just accused of being her vamp daddy. Her eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed as she glared at him, watching the scene between him and the smelly b=piece of shit that was stinkin' up the bar. SHe disliked him slightly less right about the time he had "Joey" about to shit himself.

"You are fucking KIDDING me!" Her hands twitched and balled, she wasn't sure what to do. Instinct said rip him limb from limb, but she wasn't quite stupid enough to step on Wade's toes that hard. Still, her hands shook with the force of not grabbing his throat and ripping it right out.

"This mother fucker has been fucking STALKING me!?" It took force of will not to grab him right there, "After he fucking changed me into a fucking leech and then dropped me int he god damned gutter for the RATS!?" She was seething, she could see red at teh edges of her vision. She had thought about what she would do to him if she ever got close to him, and here he was, right in front of her.

Fuck Logan, he could clean the blood up, she was gonna carve every bit of her rage and hatred into this assholes fucking body before he met the dawn.

"Give me one of those knives, lady killer, I have somethign I want to say to Daddy."

[Wade]

Ya know, sometimes I think I'm the only civilized guy about. I mean sure I nicked the guys eyebrow off, but at least I'm not deprivin him of unlife givin booze like the Ozman here...

Not that, that trick ain't funny as hell, even the seventh of eigth time....

Still, like the man said, never start with the head...

As Ozzy heads out to grab his bat, bar chick gets up in my face, aparently a bit offput by the fact the man I'm currently bustin up is her fangdaddy. I think we can safely assume this reuinion is gonna go less Maury, and more Jerry...

Still, don't suppose I can blame her. What kind of a shitheel goes off a sirin without botherin to even stick around for training...Seriously, thats half the damn fun...

When she asks for a knife, I just kinda grin, holding out the stilleto I just carved his eyebrow off with.

"Ya want it babe, its all yours...but keep in mind, we got specific orders from the prince to make this one suffer..."

Okay, maybe not Specific orders...but its kinda implied, right? I can't imagine Roxie would want the dumbass to die in his sleep or some stupid shit...No, he's gonna get to savor every delightful minute of whats to come...and I got a long list of what we can do to him.

With the knife in her possesion, I kick back, moving enough out of the way to give her access, but close enough to stop her if she does something dumber than usual.