Drew Callahan's Story

Sweeping her raven hair behind her shoulders, the eighteen year old adjusted the sunglasses on her face. The red lenses covered up her very unnatural red eyes; something she obtained from her father's side of the gene pool. Releasing a deep sigh, she shoved open the door to exit out of the backroom and walked into the main part of the bar. Her blue metallic jacket covered her clothing and weapons, but still allowed her access to them if necessary. Beneath the jacket was a black pair of pants, black boots that went up to her thighs, and a silky black shirt with a leopard face screened onto the front. Her eyes took in the familiar scene and without a word, she made her way over towards the bar, sliding up on an abandoned stool, which wasn’t hard since the place was empty.

Since her sister was gone to Langara, Renée was taking it upon herself to watch over the bar, from the shadows of course. So far, everything seemed to be going smoothly, mostly because of the staff that Gabrielle had hired. She was certainly impressed with the security that had been brought back, though she did wish one of them had gone with her instead of Norrington, but beggars can’t be choosers, she supposed. Sighing, she leaned against the counter, motioning for the bartender to bring her a kamikaze. It was almost just like old times… minus her loving, but dysfunctional family. She was also hoping to see Logan again, but no such luck thus far. Maybe he would show up eventually...

Sephyt entered, his sudden presence owed to his sudden feeling of the reigns of destiny pulling him astray. Not that he believed in such things, of course. Poorly explained superstition and ridiculous philosophy, all of it. That hadn't stopped him acting on it, though, considering he was actually making his way towards the bar... An act that seemed so strange to him given the situation that he felt as though he was viewing the event through the eyes of another.

Eventually, he found himself sat down on one of the stools, and gesturing to someone to get him a drink. It was then that he saw Renee, who he greeted with a nod. "Hello. Thank you for the room, those weeks ago. I'll pay you back soon."

The front door swung open, and in came Sennen.

Sennen was a young mercenary. Not young enough to be illegal, and just old enough to drink in Wing City. One could say that Sen was a perfectly normal kid. After all, dressed in jeans and a thick green jacket didn't warrant any suspicion, however...

That green gas mask covering the lower half of the kid's face wasn't quite so normal. That, and the robotic voice, bearing a semblance to Microsoft Mary.

"What's this, what's this? Is my favorite, backwater, chaotic little bar open, or is this just fantasy? I feel caught in a landslide."

Sen hopped onto a stool, sliding on an elbow to peer into Drew's eyes with their own- slanted, hazel, and quite feminine. "Wanna be my escape from reality?"

This didn't last long. Sen's eyes switched over the girl in the sunglasses who was also at the counter. Eyebrows waggled, and the merc's bum planted into a seat right next to the young woman.

"Hello, hello, young thang..."

Drew had to admit the clientele of this place never ceased to be amazing. It was clear that two out of the threw patrons who'd shown up so far during his shifts were obvious oddballs. For what reasons were still unknown, but alcohol had it's way of prying out secrets.

The one with the gas mask had given him a weird look, one that made him scratch at the back of his neck in discomfort.

Clearing his throat Drew straightened, and held his hands behind his back. "What can I get you all to drink?"

Rubbing her forehead, Renée let out a soft sigh. She really hated that she let her sis go to Langara with just Norrington and the fact that she hadn’t heard anything was seriously beginning to bug her. Glancing over towards the patron that entered during her self-loathing, she just nodded towards the familiar Sephyt, still curious about the man. Deciding to let him speak first, she returned her attention towards the top of the counter, drawing intricate symbols on the surface. When he thanked her for the room, she cracked a wide smile and shifted to turn her body towards him a little. One long leg slipped over the other and she ended up leaning on her elbows a bit.

“Sure, not a prob! I’m not too worried about the money. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.” Renée vaguely wondered if he would notice she wasn’t speaking with as heavy of an accent as she did when the first met, but didn’t care either way. Both she and her sister slipped in and out of it without really even thinking.

The door opened again and out of habit, Renée turned to see who was walking through next. It was someone she hadn’t seen before, but that wasn’t really that surprising. There were tons of folks or creatures that she hadn’t laid eyes on yet. Studying the kid’s outfit, she found it to be boring all but the green gas mask covering the lower face of well, she wasn’t quite sure if the figure was male or female. Shaking her head, she watched the unknown individual leaping up onto one of the stools in order to address the bartender, Drew. Rolling her eyes, which of course couldn’t be seen behind the red lenses of her sunglasses, Renée merely arched a brow at the pickup line shot her way.

“Oh stuff it.”

Turning back forward, she tapped her fingers on the bar, waiting for the Kamikaze that she had forgotten to order. Glad she hadn’t ordered it yet, Renée debated whether or not to have alcohol or stick with just having water or soda. Maybe she would do what she did the other night. Have one or two shots and then drink water or soda or something. Musing on it, she finally sighed and glanced over towards Drew.

“Three shots of kamikaze’s please.”

"Kamikaze?" He asked, wondering what, exactly, such a shot was as he eyed Drew to see what bottle he would pull from the stock. He couldn't help but notice Sennen either, who was far too strange for his liking. Sephyt himself, who was strange only in his mysteriousness, compared little to this young mercenary who seemed outright eccentric.

"Let's avoid trouble," he suggested, as though expecting it in advance.

"That'll be an Irish Carbomb!" cried out the mercenary, loud as they could, switching to a Microsoft Sam. "In some water. That's right, you heard me! Put it in a glass of water! No ice."

The merc switched their attention, once again, to Renee. By the way their cheeks raised beneath their eyes, one could tell the punk was smiling. "C'mon, lady love. You know you can't resist all this-" In an attempt to impress, Sennen rolled up one sleeve and flexed- and yes, the muscle wasn't flabby at all. In fact, the merc was quite built.

Both in muscle and douchebaggery.

After the display, Sen would try to get a hold of Renee's chair and turn her towards Sephyt. "Plus... if you let me down too bad, Imma have to take my chances with tall, dark, and brooding over there!"

It took every ounce of professionalism Drew had to not shudder.

Honestly where did these people learn to drink? A kamikaze and an Irish car bomb in water?

Suppressing a sigh. Drew nodded and went to work, pulling out a bottle of vodka, some Irish cream liqueur and whiskey, and from a small mini-fridge he produced a bottle of concentrated lemon juice. Looking at it all he felt like he was making something for the food portion of a reality game show...

But a paycheck was a paycheck and the bartender mixed up the drinks just as ordered, setting the three Kamikaze shots in front of the young lady and a glass of water next to the masked moron's shot of Ireland's finest.

“Yeh, Kamikaze. Tis a mixed drink full of yumminess. It’s generally the only alcohol I consume, but it packs quite the wallop.” Renée just shrugged towards Sephyt when he suggested that they avoid any trouble that might be brewing.

She couldn’t promise, but as long as the other individual kept their hands off her, all things would be fantastic. Speaking of the weird figure, he or she cried out that they wanted an Irish Carbomb in water. What in the world did they want it in water? From the voice, it sounded like a male, but she couldn’t be sure, so Renée just opted to keep her thoughts to herself. However, when the kid kept attempting to flirt with her and even went as far as to show off his muscled arm, she couldn’t help the exasperated sigh that slipped out between her tightly pressed lips. Why did she get the weird ones? Narrowing her eyes, which of course could not be seen, Renée slapped the Merc’s hands away from her stool, growling under her breath.

“Unless you want your hands shot off, keep them away from my body and stop flirting with me and the other patrons of the bar. Obviously, you’re creeping everyone else out.” Returning her attention towards the bartender, she just nodded when he sat her shots in front of her.

“Tanks, Drew. Guess my sis did a good job ‘n hirin’ you.”

A young lady- who was dressed nicely in a black tank, white blouse tied below her bust, and a pair of jeans- was just walking up to the bar when she stopped at the door, noting that someone was in her way.

"Little miss?" said Zaria to Twirl, kneeling down to her level. "Are you alright? Are you looking for someone?"

The basement door swinging open, in strode a rather large man. Slate gray eyes sweeping the crowd, he shifted the tattered cloak around his shoulders, muscles rippling under the black shirt Jegun insisted that he wear while on call in the bar. Shaking his head, Adam Ruin, a Fallen, walked deeper into the room, one of the few Judicars who worked security unarmed.

If one didn't know of the man, of course.

Glancing brutally at Sen, he scowled at the man's apparent drunken antics, sliding onto a barstool and rapping fingers on the bar. They drilled the wood with surprisingly loud thumps, as Adam settled in to watch the goings on.

Sephyt simply ignored the mercenary. There was no point feeding attention to an attention-seeker, after all. When the Kamikaze drinks were set down in front of Renee, Sephyt immediately reached over to take one, regardless of whether he actually had permission. Should he succeed, he would down it in one and remain unimpressed, having the constitution that he did.

"I'm not sure how much longer I'll remain. I'm getting quite tired. I have some business to take care of that would be done well to be taken care of soon."

He looked across at Zaria once she entered and gave her a wave.

The kid hissed as Renee slapped their hand away, recoiling like a kicked puppy. "Aii! Mamacita, your touch spicy like habaniero!" yelled the robotic voice. As quickly as Sen retreated, the merc just went in again with a daring look. "I like it."

Despite that, backing away was the best option right then. "But too hot for me right now, chica. I need to take a break."

From inside their jacket, Sennen retrieved a small plastic bag that had a tube attached to one end, which disappeared into the gas mask. Opening a sliver of the baggie, they then emptied the watered down drink, then sealed an end. Once finished, the liquid began to pump into the mask. This didn't happen without lovey-dovey eyes for Renee, however.

Zaria smiled at Twirl. "They're inside the bar? Here, let's not be in the way. I'm just gonna bring you right inside, but not for long," she said, holding out a hand for the girl to take it.

Once inside, the woman waved over to Sephyt with a beam. "Hey!" she mouthed, but then pointed down at the child. "One moment! Taking care of this one!"

She would guide the girl to one of the tables, if she had let her, and glanced over at Drew. "Hey! Drew~!" she sang. "Don't tell Gabby! I think this kid is lost. I won't keep her in here for long, alright?" She glanced over at the Judicarus. With him there, she was sure they were safe. For now.

"Now... who're you looking for?" she asked Twirl, finally.

Renée turned to look towards the little girl that was in the doorway of the bar. Why the hell was a little squirt standing halfway into the bar? Sure, it was different when she and her baby sis were kids, but that was because her parents owned the bar and raised them in the bar. Things were different now, and she knew without a doubt that it wasn’t safe for someone to be so young in a place like this, especially unattended. Luckily, someone was dealing with the girl and hopefully they would send the urchin on her way.

Shifting her attention towards the basement just as the door swung open, Renée figured he had to be one of the Judicarius coming up to keep an eye on the bar. It didn’t matter to her either way, but the longer she sat around, the more irritated she became. Fairly sure she was growing pissed off thanks to the mercenary sitting beside her and trying to get her to date them or whatever, Renée counted to ten a couple of times before glancing over towards Sephyt. She was just about to ask him what kind of drinks he liked when he suddenly snatched one of her shot glasses and downed the liquid before she could do anything. Snarling, Renée pulled out one of her .50 Desert Eagle and pointed it at his face.

“Dat was mine and dat was extremely rude. ‘n I’m not in de mood fer people t’ be takin’ my shots.”

The only saving grace was that the masked punk finally backed off after saying he liked it spicy or something like that. Keeping her gun on Sephyt’s face, she snarled under her breath, knowing better than to take her gaze off the man who her gun was pointed at. She had her finger inches away from her trigger, but did slip off the safety on it. At the moment, she did not care that there was a security guard in the room because between the merc and Sephyt, she was beyond irked.

“I can be a lot spicier if you don’t knock it off, punk.” Her comment was towards the irritating flirt and was short and to the point.

The door opened with a creak, and a short reptilian figure poked his head through the door. His skin was a golden yellow and his head resembled that of a small T-Rex and his relatively long arms were adorned with three clawed fingers. Green eyes blinked curiously at the establishment and its patrons. A short stumpy tail bounced gently as the child-sized digimon walked into the room.

Raising a brow, Adam rose, striding towards Renee and the men around her, glancing down.

"Is there a problem that needs resolving, Miss Lebeau?" His deep voice resonated in his chest, fists the size of small mace heads crossing before him as he settled in, all but glowering at the two figures. Pointedly, he inclined his head at the gun.

Technically, it was already enough for him to act and toss the pair out, unwanted advances from one, and blatant theft on the end of the other. Measuring them, the Fallen found them distinctly wanting, figuring the effort of throwing them out would be overkill, at least for him. He silently thanked Jegun for the advice to leave the sword back in the Penance. That would just be overkill on top of overkill. Not to mention Renee and Gabby would be pissed.

Yup, it was definitely starting to get to that time again. Drew sighed and shook his head. In his experience here so far he had noticed that there was always a certain time when things started to get either a little weird, or too out of hand. Really all it ever took was a spark, a flash point so to speak.

Looking around, he had no doubt it'd been reached.

The owner's sister, and his stand-in boss, had pulled a gun on someone, the Judicar on the clock was about ready to start tossing bodies around, some mini-dinosaur just strolled in, and his co-worker Zaria had just waltz'd in with a small child.

"This feels like back home in Windcrest..." Drew muttered quietly under his breath as he glanced at the clock. At least his shift was over soon....

As the situation unfolded, a new presence made himself known. Huge and white, half again the size of most men, a lumbering presence emerged from the walk-in freezer before rearing to its full height, like a cobra getting ready to strike. Huge, powerful arms extending from the juncture between the head and the rest of the body ended in fingerless hands that were each the size of a man's head. And despite its size, it moved with snakelike grace and fluidity, weaving its way between the tables and chairs with little but a plus-sized "Gambit's Bar" t-shirt stretched over its gigantic chest.

"You called me, Master?" It grunted, not wishing to display the full range of its intellect just yet, lest this situation degrade any further. Let them think it was a dumb beast for the head of security to order around...