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William R. Margrave

Just another gumshoe

0 · 272 views · located in The End of the Line

a character in “Things You Hear in a Bar”, as played by Soul_Alchemist

Description

Image
Name: William 'Will' R. Margrave
Age: 27
Occupation: Private Investigator

Description:
Will stands at just shy of six feet tall with and average build, not skinny but not muscle bound either. His hair is black, kept somewhere between shaggy and short, while his eyes are a pale blue, like blue paint left to fade in the sun for a few years. Very few people have ever seen him in anything other that his usual attire of a simple black suit and tie. More often than not he shows up at the End of the Line with a bit of stubble on his face and bags under his eyes.

Background:
Rather than go on to collage, Will stuck around his home town and ended up being a cop. That lasted for a few years, but then one day he decided he wanted to be a private investigator. No one knows why really. No one seems to have bothered to ask either though. He works out of his apartment on 19th Street. When not on a case he can usually be found at the End of the Line, a glass of whiskey and a book set before him at his usual table in the corner. Occasionally you'll see him taking notes. Is he working even now or trying to write a boo of his own? Again, no one has bothered to ask, so no one knows.

So begins...

William R. Margrave's Story

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Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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The End of the Line bar is a stand alone, two story building set off on the left side of Main Street. Anyone who goes through the city will see it, but it isn't really a place you take a second look at. The exterior is of plain red brick, paled by the sun and dirtied by years of pollution from the exhaust of the cars going by. The front entrance is marked by an old wooden door with red pain faded and chipping off, a neon OPEN sign setting up and to the left of the door. To the right a two foot by six inch sign on the outer wall reads, in bold black letters THE END OF THE LINE. Inside one will find that the exterior suits it well. The floor is hardwood, worn smooth over the years with several dips and scrapes. Straight ahead lies the bar counter with ten bars tools set on one side, and a man in a white shirt and black vest on the other side, a wall of liquor beyond him. The walls are covered in various signs and posters from events upcoming and long gone. Aside from the bar itself there are several tables scattered about the floor, all of them wooden with matching chairs, most round but with a few square ones along the walls. In one corner sets an old jukebox that looks like it might still play records, and near the ceiling on opposite sides there are mounted two small flat screen televisions.

Jack is the name of the man behind the bar. He is the son of the owner, and for the last five years he has been running the business that is The End of the Line bar mostly on his own, however, he has been the bartender for nearly two decades now. Each night he stands behind the bar, polishing glasses, pouring drinks, opening beers, and listening to the people who come in and set before him, placing themselves in his hands for the evening.

The blonde woman pretty enough to be in magazines goes by Vicky, but her name is Vivian. She works at bar to pay her way through medical school. Her family figured she would have ended up being a stripper by now, she has the body for it after all, but sometimes the men who come to The End of the Line often treat her like she is one. That explains the derringer she keeps hidden in her bra. If you play by the rules you'll never get to see the little beauty.

Vicky's co-worker looks more like the girl you expect to see in a place like this. Her name is Angela, and the Harley parked out front belongs to her. She's got more tattoos than you can count, but they go well enough with her short black hair and piercings. Angela gets just as much attention as Vicky, but Jack doesn't have to worry about her either. Despite her looks the woman is a black belt. One night, after a football game a few towns over, a group came into the bar and started getting a little too rowdy. When one of the guys disregarded Jack's warning and grabbed her ass he left the bar with an arm broken in three places.

Things settled down after that.

Hearing the familiar sound of the old door creaking on its hinges, Jack looks over, still polishing a shot glass, and nods when a face just as familiar walks in.

"Evening Will, the usual?" Jack asks, setting the shot glass and the washcloth aside and instead picking up a somewhat larger glass as he reaches for the whiskey.

"You know me too well Jack." The private investigator says as he nods to Vicky and Angela, passing them on his way over to a small table in the corner. "I thank you, but I think my liver might curse you."

It was Tuesday, and the sun was just beginning to sink down below the mountains on the outskirts of town, casting a pale orange-pink light on everything in the city. It was beautiful, in a way. It also meant, for Jack at least, that business would be picking up soon. Thins always seemed to liven up once the sun went down. The crowd tonight would be too big, it was too early in the week for very many people to show up. Payday was too far away at this point. But he was expecting a handful none the less, and a few usuals, like Will.

The bartender pours a few ounces of Jim Beam over a couple of ice cubes, then hands it across the bar to Angela who escorts the beverage over to its rightful place- sitting on the table before Will, between the ashtray where one of his cigarettes was already burning away and a copy of some cheesy pulp detective novel.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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Amelia couldn't help but look around at all the drunk people in their ridiculous clothing. That's probably the other half of the reason why Amelia came out so late for a couple drinks. She wasn't trying to be judgemental, most of the people here probably had a harder life then she has, but does that really mean they have to dress so....inappropriately? Who were they trying to impress? 'Seriously...all the women here need to shop in the clothing department instead of the undergarments department' She thought as she saw 90% of the women with very short shirts and very short daisy dukes. She saw a woman with multicolored hair making out with some guy Amelia slapped last Thursday for trying to touch her. However, not everyone here were a bunch of...whores. She's sure Vicky and Angela weren't whores. She's sure that man that was sitting alone with Angela serving him a drink wasn't a whore. She's sure that older couple sitting in the opposite corner of Amelia weren't whores. 'I have to stop being so judgemental...' Amelia thought.

Amelia took one last sip of her drink until it was all gone. She had drank the whole glass already. She couldn't tell if she was just thirsty, or if she needed some alcohol in her system. Either way, Amelia felt refreshed and ready to go to bed already. Usually, she'd have more drinks, but she felt as if Jack put a little too much booze in this one. She wouldn't exactly say she was "intoxicated" now, but if she were to drink more she sure would be. She felt as if she should start walking home, just in case Angela tried to get her to stay longer and drink more.

Amelia slid her feet in her shoes, which were still under the table, and stood up slowly. She tucked the chair in it's original spot, and stuck her hand in her jacket pocket for some money. She pulled out some money and set it under her empty glass. She looked around for a bit. It seemed like no one left ever since she got in. She shrugged before starting to walk to the front door.

On her way, she wished Vicky and Jack a "Good night" before she passed Angela, who was still talking to the man at the table. Amelia would of said goodbye, but she didn't want to interrupt. Suddenly, Angela's arm shot out and gripped onto Amelia's elbow before she could walk any further.

"What!? I'm going home. I promise I didn't forget to put the money on the table this time--"

"Do you know him?" Angela interrupted as she pointed a finger at the man sitting down before them.

"No? Am I suppose to?" Amelia said as she glanced at the man then looked back at Angela.

"Oh, no worries. He just said he's seen you somewhere before." Angela smirked as she waved her hand in dismissal of the subject. "Why don't you..." She started saying as she pulled Amelia down to a chair that was at the same table as the man. Angela was taller then Amelia, and much stronger, too, so there was no way Amelia could of resisted. "...stay here for awhile. Don't go home yet! Catch up on life...I'll go get you a drink..." She said as she turned around and walked back to the bar.

Amelia looked over at the man, whom she had no idea who he was, and sighed as she stuck her hand out in front of herself. "Amelia." She introduced herself casually as she kept her hand out for a handshake. She had no idea what she was doing, and quite honestly, she just wanted to get home.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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Will knew what was coming as soon as he opened his mouth. Thanks to his line of work he often fell into the habit of studying people. Normally he did so only when the individual was across the room, far enough away at least so that Angela didn't have the chance to catch him, and if she did he could just use the 'staring off into space' excuse to slip out of it. Obviously, that wasn't going to work this time, and the poor woman whom the barmaid had caught in her grasp was now sitting at his table, looking a bit shaken up due to what had just happened.

"You walked here, you've probably been on your feet all day and were looking forward to going home just a moment ago." Will says before taking a sip of his beer, then setting it down with a sigh. "You had just slipped your shoes back on. Judging by the look in your eyes, you let Jack fix you a drink and it was a bit stronger than you would have liked." Taking his hand from his beer he wipes it on his pants leg before reaching out and shaking Amelia's offered hand. "My name is William Margrave, but you can just call me Will, everyone does. Don't let Angela bully you into another drink if you don't want it, though I would suggest you take it easy for a bit, maybe order a soda or something?"

It was about this time that Angela returned with a fruity looking concoction in a tall glass with a little umbrella. Just as she goes to set it on the table, Will takes it from her and takes a sip through the straw already sticking out of the glass opposite the little umbrella.

"Come on now Angela, give the poor girl a break." Will says, shaking his head. "Let her drink this and you'll have to carry her home yourself. Now that I think about it though, maybe that was your plan all along. I always wondered if you-"

Will's sentence was punctuated with a short, sharp slap that left a red mark on the detective's face. She starts mumbling curses under her breath, but leaves the drink at the table. She would be putting it on his tab rather than Angela's, but that was fine by him. Looking over at the bar he can see Jack laughing his ass off, so Will just raises the glass before taking another sip, then setting it on the table next to his beer.

"Oh, right, sorry about that. You can have it if you want, I just like teasing her when I get the chance. Jack seems to be enjoying the show as well." Will says with a smirk as he picks up his beer and puts it against the red hand print on his face. She hadn't hit him hard, just enough to make it sting. If she wanted she could have easily busted his lip. "You don't have to sit here either if you don't want to. Who am I do tell you what to do, right?" With another small laugh he takes another sip of his beer, then Vicky walks over, shaking her head with a glass of water in her hand.

"Here ya go sweety, want me to take that back to the bar for you?" Vicky asks, looking from Amelia to Will.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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Amelia listened to what this man had to say. Her face turned to a confused expression as she listened to his every word. The expression wasn't a I-don't-get-what-you're-saying confused look, it was a how-the-hell-do-you-know-all-this? look. She was trying to find out what his occupation was. Either a stalker or a detective, as she could guess from the book he had on the table about detective stuff. Her hand was still out as she seemed frozen in place by surprise. She was broken out of her train of thoughts when he finally shook her hand and introduced himself. "Hi...Will." Amelia managed to stutter out. She let her hand rest down on the table once they were done their little handshake.

"Oh, it's ok. I think I can handle another dr--" She was interrupted when Angela came over with a rather fancy looking drink. It was tall, and Amelia couldn't even tell what type of beer or what booze was in there. But she did like the cute little umbrella. Just when Angela was about to set it down in front of Amelia, it was snatched by Will and he took a small sip. Not that Amelia cared. Who wouldn't want to drink out of a glass with a cute little umbrella in it? Or maybe it was just her who thought it was cute.

She was broken out of her "cute little umbrella" thinking when suddenly she heard a smacking sound. Her eyes focused on Will as she saw the red mark on his cheek. Amelia's eyes widened as she bit her bottom lip and looked up at Angela, who's face was redder then Will's slap mark and who mumbling things under her breath that Amelia couldn't hear. Amelia would of said something like "Yeah! You wouldn't only be carrying my drunk ass home, but my disgusting, lifeless, dead, body full of puke ass home. So unless you don't want that, you let me drink at my own pace." But she felt as if it weren't the right time to do so. Second, she never really thought about Angela being a lesbian or bisexual. But she sure did rage when he brought it up. Maybe she is...

Amelia looked at Will as he sat her beer down and picked up his to rest against his cheek. She looked over at Jack, who was still laughing as if he just saw someone get a pie to the face. Amelia looked back at Will.

"No, it's alright. You seem like an interesting character. So what do you do for a living? Are you a detective?" She asked as she picked up the book and flipped the front cover over and unto another page. "Got the Nancy Drew thing going on?" She asked as she set the book back down on the table.

She looked up at Vicky as she walked over and asked her if she didn't want her drink. Amelia had to think about it for a second before she answered. "No, it's ok. I think I can manage one more drink." Amelia said politely back. 'I'm not going to make it.' She thought. Maybe she could call in sick for once tomorrow. She's never done that, though. But she is sure if she finishes this drink that she will be drunk and hung over tomorrow. Oh well. That's tomorrow and today is today, right? Vicky shrugged her shoulders and set the glass of water down on the table, too. She turned around and walked back to the bar to tend to other customers. "If I get drunk and am unable to walk myself home, tell Angela to carry me." She said to Will as she finally took a sip of the fancy drink. It was strong, but not too strong. Amelia would manage. She didn't want Will to bring her home either if she did get drunk. That would be embarrassing.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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Will laughs a little when Amelia mentions Angela taking her home, then shakes his head before taking a longer drink of his beer before setting it back on the table, on one of those cheap little coasters that advertise one beer or another. In this case it was Miller. Was that the brand he was drinking? All beer tasted the same to Will, so it really didn't matter what kind he was drinking.

"I doubt Angela would be able to keep from really hitting me if I had to ask her to do that, but fair enough." He says as he leans back in his chair and nods towards the book. "To answer your question, yes, I'm a detective. Not a very good one I suppose, seeing as how I just spent my paycheck on whiskey and beer. That's the problem with being a private eye though, no hourly wage. I get paid by the case, so if the world ever runs out of cheating husbands and wives I'll be out of business."

The private eye chuckles a little at this. While things like cheating spouses did make up the majority of his jobs, on the rare occasion he got something that was actually important. A few years back he had been asked to find a missing little boy that the police had given up on. He'd found the boy, alive, if just barely, and made a pretty penny on it. However, because he did actually have a conscious, he gave the money back so the parents could pay for the medical bills. You win some, you lose some. He still got a handmade thank you card on his birthday every year from the kid, so he figured going without for a couple of months was worth it.

Looking up from the table Will focuses on the entrance of the bar. A few guys were heading home for the night, and about time. The group of five men, it looked like they might be construction workers, had been there as long as Will himself and had gone through several pitchers of beer. No doubt there were several dirty glasses to be washed and the table was probably getting sticky even now. Fun night's work for Vicky, who had the displeasure to be the their server. Hopefully they left her a decent tip, but he doubted it. Most of the hard working guys like those in construction were good about things like that, but he happened to know one of them, the tall, large, bald man with a spider tattoo where his hair should be had done some hard time in the past for a bank heist gone wrong in his younger days. Of course how Will knew that no one would ever know. He was very good at keeping secrets.

"Anyway, I have to ask, what do you do for a living?" Will asks before taking up his beer. He was taking it slow and making it last. The night was still relatively young, but even so after this he had enough cash on hand for maybe another beer, then it would be a couple of glasses of water and a three block hike to his apartment.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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"No, I was kidding. No one has to carry me home. My apartment is just right up the street...well, kinda. Easy enough to walk to." She said as she took another drink of her beer out of the straw. She looked around and saw some people were starting to leave. They were probably there before Amelia was, though. The bar seemed a little quieter and less crazy from when she came in and sat down. Maybe some people left without her seeing already. Not that it really mattered. Amelia just found it more peaceful when loud and drunk people left. That's what made her want to stay longer. Although, she should probably get home after the drink of beer she was having now. She had no idea what work had in for her tomorrow, and quite frankly she didn't want to know.... or go.

Amelia listened as Will told her about who he was. A detective seemed quite interesting. Like those guys from CSI. She's never met one before in person. Actually, her friends husband was a detective now that she thought about it, but they split up awhile ago. She never got the chance to meet him. Her friend was always talking about how charming he was and handsome. Not so charming anymore.

"I...I'm a writer. I write some books. I'm not famous or anything. I write small books...not children's books...but small books." She tried to explain as she span her straw in her drink. Her drink was already half full...or half empty. Depends on if someone is a optimist or a pessimist. It's not like the glass was as tall as a giraffe, but it was taller then most of the drinks she had around here. It was a good drink, one of those drinks where someone can hardly taste the alcohol because of too much other flavours. But Amelia didn't mind that at all.

"Where do you live? If you don't mind me asking, of course. A lot of people live around here if they come to a bar like this." She asked as she took her annoying shoes off again under the table. She crossed her legs once she did so, trying to get comfortable with her position. She would take her jacket off, but she was going to leave soon. So she thought she shouldn't. She rubbed her eyes with her hands and rested her hand on her cheek as she used her arm on the table to hold her head up. She glanced over at a small window near by. It was already pitch black outside. She had no idea how long she'd been here, but she felt as if she should ask Angela or Jack to take her home. Even though she hated doing that. She can usually walk herself home no matter how drunk she was, but she had no idea how much alcohol was in the last two drinks she had, and maybe next time she'd actually order something that she knew. She always thought it was rude asking someone to take her home because she couldn't handle herself, but they were nice people. Well, when they're not pissed off that is.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jennifer Whitfield Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: Nathaniel Whitfield Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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"Close enough by that I can stumble home." Will says with a smile before taking another sip of beer. "In my line of work you learn all the ins and outs of a place. I could probably get wasted at that place across town and still manage to stumble home before dawn, not that I'd want to try it." He doesn't bother to add that in his line of work it wasn't all that uncommon for someone to be waiting for him in a dark alley somewhere along his route home. Nothing major had happened yet, thankfully, but once a dissatisfied client had stalked him from this very bar and was apparently going to try and kill him, but then she broke down in tears. "So you're a writer huh? Wrote anything I might have read?"

Although Will was always seen with a detective novel of some sort in his hand he had a vast collection of books in his apartment. Ranging from history to horror to just about everything else. In truth he hadn't read most of them, but it was nice to have them around.

When the door opens again he looks up to see two people walk in, a man and woman. For a moment he mistakes them for a couple, but then he recognizes their faces. He'd seen the two of them in here before, and if he was remembering right they were brother and sister. Neither of them really frequented the bar, it was usually just to celebrate or something. Tonight it looked like they were drinking whiskey, and if he heard the woman right her brother had gotten a promotion or something like that. Just as she gave the reason for the drinks someone put a quarter in the jukebox and Ramblin' Man begins to play. Shrugging, the detective turns back to his beer and his company.

"Hey, just so long as you don't lose your lunch on the counter I'll keep pouring them." Jack says, shaking his head at the siblings. Hearing Vicky calling him he looks up and nods. "I'll be right back, got another customer waiting, excuse me." Walking down to the far end of the bar Jack slings his washcloth over one shoulder and leans in a bit to hear Vicky. "What's up?"

"Those guys in the corner there, the ones playing pool? They're starting to get a little rowdy. Maybe you should cut them off for the night, unless you want to replace another couple of cues." Vicky says, nodding to one of the four pool tables on the far side of the bar.

Unlike the usual crowd, this group was made up of several collage kids. There was a small table against the wall covered in empty beer bottles, and despite the music he could hear raised voices. If he had to guess they were arguing about a bet one of them had made on the game. It was definitely the right time to cut them off, so Jack gives the okay for Vicky not to worry about them for a little while unless they want a soda or something. If worse cam to worse he could run them out.

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Character Portrait: Jennifer Whitfield Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: Nathaniel Whitfield Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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"So you live near by, too." Amelia said as she stirred her drink with her straw as she stared at it for a second. She was still listening, of course, but just thinking and listening at the same time. Yes, she was thinking about work again. She wondered how much trouble she would get in from her boss if she showed up late tomorrow...or how much trouble she would get in if she called in "sick". She knows she'll get a good scolding either way. Her boss didn't even know every week day when she came home from work she headed straight to the little bar down from her apartment. She shook her head to clear her thoughts when Will asked her a question.

"Uh... well, I wrote a small book called The Nameless Monster but it's a stupid little book... Not that big.." She said as if she didn't care as she started to get annoyed with that "cute little umbrella" blocking her view of everything when she took a sip of the beer. She took the umbrella out gently and closed the little umbrella with the little slide thing someone could use to close the umbrella on the stick. She set it down on a napkin beside her. She wondered if she could take it home...

Just then, she heard the door open and she turned her head to see who it was. A man and a woman walked in this time. The man didn't really look like he wanted to be there, but whatever. Once again, who was Amelia to judge?

Amelia began humming to a familiar song that started playing. She took a another sip of her beer and was about to start up a new topic of conversation with Will when she was interrupted by the loud voices over where a bunch of kids were playing pool. They weren't exactly kids, but they sure acted like them. Amelia stopped humming the song and stared up at them.

"How annoying..." She said in a lower tone as she continued watching them fool around. She couldn't exactly blame them though. Amelia probably acted like that with all her friends whenever she was drunk with them at a bar. Although, that was eight years ago and a different bar. A more popular bar with loads of people coming in every five minutes. Everyone was loud at that bar, so the staff couldn't really come over and blame them on being too loud when a bunch of other groups of people were being loud as well.

She continued watching them. A girl reached up and kissed one boy on the cheek...for no particular reason. Well, not that Amelia knew. She watched as Jack came over to the group and told them to cool down and be a little quieter. The one girl rolled her eyes and they huffed and agreed eventually. It probably wasn't going to cut it though. Telling a bunch of drunk teenagers to stop partying too loudly? No. Amelia shook her head as she looked back at Will. She rubber her already aching forehead from the alcohol that was slowly started to make her a little tipsy. "Are you single?" She asked out of the blue. What the hell was that? She thought as she complained mentally to herself. "I'm sorry...It's just the booze." She apologized soon after as she took another sip of her beer.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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As Amelia spoke, Will was watching the kids in the corner as he sipped his beer. None of them looked familiar. They were probably from the local collage. It was that time of the year when faces new and old appeared in the bar. For some it was their first time at The End of the Line, for others it was just their first stop back before school began again. For others this might very well be their first taste of alcohol. He thought that might be the case for one of the younger looking members of the group. When Amelia suddenly asks if he's single he nearly chokes a bit on his beer, but manages to get it down with just a few coughs. Clearing his throat he sets the bottle back down and gives her an odd look.

"Since it's just the booze talking then I suppose it doesn't matter." Will says with a small chuckle, shaking his head a little. "But, yes I am. Have been for a while now actually, come to think of it."

Back when he was still an official officer of the law Will had a little lady waiting on him at home. They weren't married or anything, but it had been talked about a time or two. Unfortunately, or maybe not, Will had never been entirely sure how to feel about the matter, when he quit the force to become a private eye she left him. As far as he knew she was married to the police chief now, a little girl on the way. They didn't talk now unless they had to.

There's a click in the corner as the last song ends, then some soft whirling of gears and such deep within the jukebox as another record is selected. It looked like the next one was an old Hank Williams song. Will had heard it before, a long time ago. It was a bit odd, he thought, for the jukebox to select that song. But he guessed Jack had set it to random earlier in the evening. Not alot of people came to The End of the Line for the music, but it was nice to have some background noise. Besides, the machine was old, and the later it got the more likely it would be that some drunk would try and pull a Fonz and run their fist through the glass. Will didn't mind the old tune, but apparently the collage kids weren't going to have it. One of them, the one Will had suspected had never seen the inside of a bar before this evening, was making his way over to the jukebox. Upon finding that it wouldn't accept his change he says something to the machine, then hits it a few times. When nothing happens he hits it again and the needle skips on the record, causing it to go back to the beginning. Well, that made things even worse.

"Excuse me. Hopefully I'll be back in one piece in just a couple of minutes." Will says with a sigh as he stands and makes his way over to the kid and the jukebox. By now the kid had hold of a chair and was about to smash the machine. Luckily the detective gets there in time to grab the chair by a leg and keep it from making an impact. "Look, I'm sorry you don't like the music, kid, but this isn't going to do anything except maybe land you in jail for destruction of property."

"You picked this lame song, didn't you old man!?" The kid says, slurring his words. His breath was like sticking your face in the foamy head of a fresh Guinness.

"Old man? Seriously? You're what, probably not even twenty one yet, kid?" Will asks, keeping a hand on the chair leg since the guy wasn't putting it down. He was hoping the guy would back down now that someone was saying something, but it didn't look like it. Obviously he didn't like being called kid. Before Will can say anything further the collage kid manages to yank the chair free and slams it into Will, knocking him backwards and onto a, thankfully, empty table.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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Amelia watched as Will seemed like he was almost going to die from choking on his beer once she had asked him if he were single. Once again, what a stupid question. She nodded once when he answered her question, and leaned back in her chair so her back wouldn't hurt from sitting up so damn straight... which she normally does and is just a habit of hers now. She folded her hands together and rested them on her stomach. She felt as if she could fall asleep right there and then, but wouldn't let herself do so.

Come to think of it, Amelia doesn't remember the last time she ever had a boyfriend. She was never really into love at all. In high school, her friend had gotten a boyfriend, and most of the other girls did as well. Amelia didn't want one because she though high school relationships were just a lame excuse for having a boyfriend or girlfriend. People just wanted to seem cool because they had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Boys just wanted to brag, and girls just wanted to giggle about it. Every boy that had asked Amelia out she turned down, and eventually it stopped because those boys finally got the message that she wasn't ready. In fact, Amelia can't remember the last time she has ever felt romantic. When she first watched Titanic, she was complaining about how much of a bitch Rose was while all the other girls around her were crying their eyes out. She didn't even bother reading Romeo and Juliet because the whole time span of the book is a week. She had no idea why she had asked Will that, anyway. It really was the booze.

She smiled softly as another familiar song came on. Her grandfather used to sing this song with a guitar. Hank Williams was the original singers name. Amelia knew nothing about him, except that he died in the early 50s.

Amelia looked over at the jukebox only to see that one of those stupid college boys made his way over to it and was now pissed off at the machine for playing such "crappy" music. Amelia sat up in her chair from her comfortable position and tried to make out what the guy was saying to the machine. He then started hitting it and such. She almost starting laughing when the machine played back to the beginning of the song again.

She looked up as she heard Will get out of his seat and excuse himself. She sighed heavily once he had left, already knowing what he was going to do. She watched as the kid picked up a chair and was about to smash that jukebox senseless, before Will came over and lied a hand on the chairs leg and said a few words to the young man, who didn't look any calmer.

Before she knew it, Will had been hit with the chair and fell on a table. Most people gasped as they saw the action, and Amelia cringed. The kid seemed to be not surprised in what he had just done, and lifted the chair back over his head to smash the machine. Amelia sprung up and pushed her chair back so she could get out. She didn't even bother to put her shoes back on as she made her way over to the scene. She passed Will and went around the boy with the chair, and stood in front of the jukebox casually.

"Hey lady! Move your ass before I smash you along with that stupid machine!" He yelled behind her as he seemed more annoyed. The chair was still gripped tightly above his head.

This was usually the part where Angela came out and talked some sense into these stupid drunk people. This was usually the part where Amelia just sat back and watched the show. However, she had no idea where Angela was now... Too bad, too.

"Mhm." Amelia mumbled back, looking like she didn't really care or know what was going on. She stared down at the jukebox, still in front of it, as she listened to the old tone. She finally sighed and let her shoulders sag as she turned around to meet with this guy.

"Look, I'm sorry that the music here doesn't fit to your likings. Why don't you go to one of those teenage parties that they throw at their homes when the parents aren't home? I'm sure they have the new Lady Gaga album playing there." She said calmly. "No, as an adult, I suggest you go home and go to bed." She corrected herself shortly after. The guy seemed more furious and mad and gripped the chair tighter. Amelia shrugged and turned back around to the jukebox, which was still playing the old song. It's not like she needed to be there or that she was doing anything. She was just standing there to really protect the machine. If he were to hit her he would get more then put in jail for destruction of property. Amelia continued standing there as she rested her hand against the jukebox, taping along with the music. She just hoped she wasn't about to get smashed in the head with that chair behind her.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Dismuke Character Portrait: William R. Margrave
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By now Jack had his shotgun out from under the counter and was waving it around, yelling at the collage kids yo get out before he opened fire on their asses. Those who still had their wits about them began scrambling for the door, none of them leaving money. But Will supposed the cost of a few drinks was an acceptable loss to keep the calm in his bar. What he was really worried about right now was keeping Amelia out of harm. Getting hit with the chair had hurt, alot, but the detective had been able to raise his arms up in time to block most of the damage. It was just taking him a moment to get up off the table.

Grabbing one of the coasters from the table, Will gets to his feet and tosses it, hitting the guy with the chair in the back of the head. It might sting a little, but he just wanted to get his attention, and it worked.

Collage guy turns mid-swing and slams the chair into Will, this time breaking it. Had that hit Amelia over the head it might have been all over for the poor girl, and he couldn't have that. This time when the chair hits him it shatters, flying into several parts, some of which bounce off of him and some of which fly past him and scatter. Again he blocks the blow with his arms, but it still hurt like hell. There would be alot of bruising tomorrow. But, now with the chair gone the collage guy looks at Will as if he had just taken away his favorite toy and charges. Will sidesteps and slams his elbow down on his head and the guy goes out like a light.

"Well that was annoying..." Will says with a sigh, slumping down at the table he'd just been thrown onto a moment ago. "Say, Jack, think I could get another shot over here?" He didn't really have the money for it, but at times like this Jack was often good enough to give him one on the house. After all, this wasn't the first fight the detective had broken up.

"You alright hon?" Vicky asks, hurrying over to the table with a washcloth. She starts gently wiping away the debris from the chair out of his hair, picking a couple of splinters out of his neck. She didn't even have to be asked to do stuff like this, it just came as second nature to her. If someone in the bar were to break a glass and cut themselves picking up the pieces she would be there to clean and bandage the wound. By the time Angela walks over with his shot Will already has several band-aids on his face and neck.

"I thought I told you before that we could handle this kind of stuff Willy." Angela says, sitting the glass down before crossing her arms. "Don't expect anymore compensation for this than that shot."

"Like I'd ask for any." Will says with a smirk before downing the shot and letting out a sigh. He then looks over at Jack, who is trying to calm everyone down. He'd probably end up giving them a free round on the house or something, but things would be handled. His eyes then fall back on Amelia. "Say, Amy, you alright?"

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Amelia's head snapped around to the sound of something hitting that stupid college kid behind her. There was Will, who had already gotten hit by a chair, whom threw a coaster at the young man. The guy quickly turned around and got his revenge with the chair. She continued looking over her shoulder as the guy slams the chair into Will. The chair breaks and pieces of broken wood scatter all over the place. Amelia flinches back once she heard the chair collide with Will once again. Amelia took a short glance up at Jack, who still had a shotgun in his hands. He looked as if he was trying to process what just happened in front of him.

Amelia looks back at the scene as the guy charges towards Will and is quickly taken down from a hit in the head. He slumps to the ground, obviously passed out.

Amelia's eyes land on Vicky who swiftly rushed over and took care of Will. This time, Amelia turned her whole body around and stood there. She's seen Vicky take care of people who had injuries from fights before. She was the first person to the scene to help, a trait that Amelia lacks and needs...when she's drunk.

Will had already asked for another drink and Angela was out there quickly with another drink. Amelia could hear her complaining to Will about how she could handle situations like that and let out a sigh as she walked away, defeated.

Amelia finally walked forward, stepping over the motionless body of the drunk college guy, and made her way to the table Will now had occupied. She sighed as she sat herself down in a chair near the table that was luckily not damaged during the process of the fight. She wiped her forehead with her hand, drying off the nervous and stressed sweat that had built. She tucked her lose bangs behind her ear and looked over at Will, who had multiple bandages from his neck to his face.

"Amy, huh?" She said amused at the new nickname, "I'm fine, Willy. Besides, I wasn't the one just hit with a chair. Are you alright?" She asked as she examined the bandages on his neck. Amelia reached over and grabbed his arms with both her hands, not being all so gentle but gentle enough not to hurt him, and looked down at them. "Your arms got to hurt after that defensive block." She stated as she softly let go of his arms and looked over at the mess that had been created. Small pieces of wood were still scattered about the floor and Amelia just knew that Vicky was going to clean it up soon. Her eyes fell down on that college boy, who was still passed out on the floor, and shook her head. That boy was going to get into a lot of trouble. He started to stir and mumble words that Amelia couldn't hear, and knew he was about to succumb to the wakeful. Jack was already standing near by just in case he were to wake up, he'd be kicking him out as soon as he did.

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"I used to be a cop. When you've gotten shot at enough times you don't let a little barroom brawl get to you. I'll be fine in the morning, aside from a hangover." Will says with a laugh once Amelia let go of his arms. Truth was he was in alot of pain right now, the second impact had banged his arms up pretty good, and if the guy had been any stronger it might have broken his arm. Of course he wouldn't let that show. Looking from the guy on the floor to his drink he sighs and tosses it back before setting the empty shot glass back on the table. "Thanks Jack."

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but there was a reason I was trying to hold off on this kid William." Jack says, which made the detective's left eye twitch. None of his friends called him by his full name unless there was bad news. "This kid just so happens to be the son of a rather wealthy and influential man, you've probably heard of him. Alexander Kingsly. Owner of the Kingsly International Trade Company." (KITC)

The name rung a bell alright. Alexander Kingsly was a big man in these parts, the kind of guy you didn't want to cross. He had the local police jumping through hoops and a finger in the pie of anyone doing anything illegal. From the petty street gangs to the officials in power. And if the kid lying on the floor was really Alex Jr., his only son, then Will was in deep shit. Jack had enough connections that Kingsly couldn't touch him, but a washed up detective was free game. And Will had the feeling that the bell would start ringing for the kick off at any moment. The last guy who Kingsly had gotten mad at was found with a pair of cement shoes at the bottom of the ocean.

"I guess I had better call it a night then." Will says as he stands, closing his eyes for a moment as the pain in his arms hits him in full. When he opens them he smiles though. "Here, this should cover the drinks and maybe some of the damage. If I don't wake up dead I'll see you in a couple of days."

After handing Jack all the money he had on him, the detective makes his way for the door. The kid was already coming too, and as soon as he caught sight of Will he glares daggers into his back. There would definitely be hell to pay, and soon.

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"Oh, I see." Amelia let out a chuckle at Will's explanation. She was about done with drinks tonight. Besides, her eyes were drooping and tired before all of this fighting business began. Now that she thought about it, she was even more tired then before now. She couldn't tell how bad she was going to feel when she woke up tomorrow morning, however, she still felt as if she had to go to work. She didn't want to embarrass herself though if she were to go to work. She brought her clammy hands together in her lap and rubbed them together gently.

Amelia looked up at Jack as he explained who the guy on the ground really was. Turns out he's this rich mans son. Alexander Kingsly. She's never heard of him...But she knows what Kingsly International Trade Company was. Actually, one of Amelia's friends knew Kingsly. She had no idea how, but he told her he was a pretty straight-up man. Tall and kind of scary. He was rich and always wanted the job done. Amelia's friend joked that she should consider marrying him, since Amelia was also so focused on her job. Amelia had just laughed it off. Rich, narcissistic men weren't really her type.

She looked up at Will who had called it quits and was about to start heading home. He handed Jack some cash and head towards the door. Amelia's eyes watched him as he started to leave and then she looked back at the young man who had started walking up from his short slumber. He rubbed his, probably, aching head and glared at Will. His head snapped over to look at Amelia and he glared at her as well. Amelia's eyes widened.

"Uh...I'm going to start heading home, too." She hurriedly said as she swiftly stood up from her chair. Jack replied with a simple "Okay" and looked over at the man still sitting on the floor.

"Say good night to Vicky and Angela for me." Amelia said before she pushed her chair in and started heading for the door slowly.

"Oh, Amelia! Your shoes." Jack reminded her as she walked.

"Oh! Thank you." Amelia said as she spun around and head towards the table she was at before. Luckily, her shoes were surprisingly still under the table where she had left them and she slipped them back on her feet with ease. She swiftly walked back over to Jack and pulled out some cash from her bra and handed it to him. He looked surprised that she would take out her money from there and looked hesitant to take it, but did.

"Go home." He said with a soft chuckle, already knowing Amelia was drunk since she never usually pulled out stored money from her bra.

"Yeah, right. Sorry." She mumbled with a innocent smile and turned around and headed towards the door. Catching up with Will just in time, she tapped his shoulder with her hand, almost telling him she was here, and walked up beside him.

"I just wanted to say thanks for...well, throwing that coaster at that guy to distract him." She said, not looking at him but continued staying beside him. "Have a good night." She finished off as she gave a small smile and got to the door. She pushed the door open and the first thing that hit her was the cold, night breeze. She took a deep breath in and started walking back towards her apartment.

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Will took his time heading for the door. The alcohol was hitting him now. He hadn't drank enough to get drunk, but he was a bit tipsy, so he thought it best to take things nice and easy since he had a good ten minute walk ahead of him unless he wanted to hurry. He thought in his state that might not be such a good idea though. When he hears Amelia he looks down and gives her a nod, then lowers his head a bit as she opens the door. When she stands there a moment he reaches past her to hold it open until both of them were outside.

"Here, take this. You look cold." Will says as he removes his long coat and hands it to her. "I'm wearing layers, so I'll be fine, just mind the splinters. You can just bring it to Jack next time you come to this place if we don't see one another again, alright?" He gives her another small smile, then looks back at the door, thinking for a moment. The idea had been for him to wander off on his own now that the kid had decided this was all his fault, but Alex Jr. had given Amelia a stern look as well. "You want me to walk you home? It's not too far away from here right? And, no offence, but you look like you might fall over at any moment."

The detective wasn't in the habit of walking women home from the bar, hell, he wasn't even in the habit of talking to anyone but Jack, Angela, and Vicky when he was there, but why not? If Amelia would allow him to do so, then just this once he would make an acception and take her home before he wandered off. Sure, it might mean getting home would take a little bit longer, but so what? He was a marked man now, and didn't really expect to see tomorrow morning, even though it was now only a few hours away.

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Amelia's head snapped back once she had heard Will spoke. Her whole body turned to face him once again as she looked down at the jacket. "Thank you." She simply said with a small smile. Honestly, she wasn't in the mood to start up a whole argument on how he should just keep it or he'll get cold. She extended her arm and gratefully took the piece of clothing. Draping it along both her shoulders, she crossed her arms on top of her chest. She bit the inside of her cheek and looked back up at Will.

"No! You don't have to walk me home." She retorted as she waved her hands around like a madwoman. "I usually walk home by myself. Sober or drunk. Besides, its dark and you have to get home, too..." Her sentence died into a mumble once she was done saying it. She seemed to be thinking about something, which she was. She didn't really want to do this and really wanted to get home. "My apartments this way." She said as she sighed in defeat and turned around on her heel. She started walking towards her apartment once again.

Amelia scratched behind her ear and looked over at her new company. "When do you usually come to the bar? Just wondering. I usually come after work. Nothing else better to do." She said as she paused for a second, lost in thought. She was trying to remember, for a split second, if she had already asked Will that question earlier. She shook her head to clear herself of her thoughts. She couldn't remember. She began walking again, feeling that aching pain in her sore feet once again. She stopped herself and extended her arm and placed it on Wills shoulder to balance herself as she took her shoes off. Once she was done taking her annoying shoes off and leaning on Will, she stood up again and continued walking. With one hand holding her dangly shoes and the other by her side.

"Say, I could just give your jacket back to you once we get to my apartment." She suggested quietly. "And, I'm not going to fall." She said, suddenly answering to Wills comment he made before, "I'm more worried about you falling over." She joked as she glanced back at him. After that, she became silent and stopped talking. For her own sake and Wills. She usually talks too much when drunk...and she talks nonsense. Her one foot landed oddly when she took another step, her foot kind of getting in front of her other foot. She stumbled but managed to hold herself together. "Whoa." She chuckled out as she smoothed her hair back with her hand and continued walking.