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The Last Watch [Closed]
« on: June 04, 2016, 06:56:44 am »
There was a pounding that could be heard, a vibration in the ground. the scream of a terrified horse. The pace of his feet hitting the ground out of time with the pounding in his ears, the ground, his heart.

He'd thought it was some kind of practical joke, an initiation into his new group of friends, but he'd seen Vince's eyes in that eerie green glow after the... lance? spear? whatever it was, had run through him. There was no life in those eyes. Then he'd run, but someone, no something must have seen him, because he'd heard them coming for him not long after he'd run away. Horses, with things on them, half stooped other things making awful sounds.

He tore through brush and trees, feeling his hands and face get cut as he forced his way through the dense forest floor. His lungs were burning and his legs were giving out, he threw himself against a large tree and pressed his hand tighter over his mouth to quiet the sound of his breathing. There was a clarifying pain as his back scraped against the rough bark and his ears cleared from the pounding.

This was worse, silence. He swallowed slow and heavy and moved slowly to peer around the tree.

A burst of green light and a searing pain through his stomach ripped a scream from his mouth as his eyes traveled up to the horses rider...

She woke in a panting sweat and shoved the heels of her hands into her eyes. When her vision cleared she looked up at the silhouette in her dimly lit doorway. She froze for a moment before the languid body moved toward her and she took in a cool shuddering breath, clearing her mind of the dream.

His hand held out a glass of water, which she took and slurped down as he slid down to sit on the edge of the bed as he spoke, "Another nightmare?" She glanced up over the rim of the glass and tipped it back to finish off the water. "You know Mel, there are things you can do- spells or potions.." she interrupted him my shoving the glass back into his hands.

"Sorry if i woke you up." She drug a hand over her wet chin and started to hunt around for her clock, "What time is it anyway?"

He sighed, "Half past ten."

She swore as she threw her blankets off at him, "I'm late! Why didn't you wake me up?"

He rolled his eyes, "I dunno, because it's bad to wake a witch thrashing around in their sleep in the throws of a nightmare that could... you know, kill me?"

Now she rolled her eyes as she kicked around and picked at a pile of clothes spilling out of her hamper and pulled out a pair of slightly tattered jeans, "Yeah, like I could hurt you."

She saw him point to a scar on his bare chest, and she paused before she turned back to dressing. "Don't you have a date, or something? With, what's her name Tabitha? Tallia?"

"Teresa, and we're meeting later."

She pulled the jeans up and buttoned them under her over large t-shirt before stripping it off and pulling on a well loved and often worn purple band t-shirt as she shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her jacket. She glanced over at him as her fingers dug into a tray on her dresser and started pulling her favorite and always worn rings, watch and bracelet on, "That's right, Tallia was last week." She smirked as she saw him shake his head in the mirror as she started pulling up her multi-color streaked blond hair into a quick messy knot on the top of her head. Her blue-green eyes caught his in the mirror as she wiped away smudged mascara and applied new, "You've burned through half the T's I know.  You're going to have to pick another letter or start hanging out somewhere else if you don't find Mrs. Right soon."

He shrugged his shoulders and she turned and held up two different earrings. He pointed to one and she shoved it in her ear and then picked up a mismatched one and pushed it in the other to compliment the string of them going up the rest of her ear.

"You'd know it wasn't easy if you ever tried actual dating Mel. There aren't many... women out there that want to date me after they find out what I really am."

Mel walked over and put a hand on his cheek, "Then they're idiots," she leaned past him, grabbed her jangle of keys off the night stand and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you later!"

And she was out the door and down the stairs.

It was a brisk eight block walk in the late wet spring air of Seattle, and she put her hands up apologetically, already sorting for the key to the bar as she saw a loitering group of regulars and staff waiting to be let in. "I know, I know, I'm late." She heard a few grumbles, but mostly chuckles as the large brass key slid into the lock and she turned it, the sound of many clicking locks coming undone and a dim glow coming from the keyhole of the door before she turned and smiled as she pushed it open, "But it's always worth the wait when you come to The Lock and Keye", and she slid inside.
« Last Edit: June 04, 2016, 09:48:39 am by Peregrine »


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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #1 on: June 04, 2016, 05:29:27 pm »
"...ning Seattle! This is Ripshaw Murdock coming to you live from our studios in Belltown! I'll be bringin' you the classics nonstop for the next hour, so don't turn that dial or slap that snooze beca-"

Thomas shut the radio off and groaned. It felt like his body had forgotten how to wake itself up before the sun. He blinked his eyes open and just laid there a moment in the small twin bed, staring up at the off balanced ceiling fan spinning unsteadily above him. Today was a big day, even for a Monday.

Today, Detective Thomas Dunscaith was going to get into his car and drive to work.

He finally rotated his hips and let his feet slip off the side of the bed. The smooth laminate floor felt cold to his bare toes and woke him up a bit more. Despite his best effort to resist the compulsion, Thomas looked around the small one room apartment to make sure everything was in its right place.

The coffee maker was predictably burbling and steaming but his gaze didn't linger there. Instead, he checked every surface for any deviation from The Way It Was Supposed to Be. The two stools in the kitchen were both in their proper place underneath the bar top counter that separated the kitchen from the dining/living space. All the spices were in their proper place - labels out - on the rack stuck on the side of the stainless steel refrigerator. All cupboard doors were closed, all knives were in their proper place in the block, and a mug was sitting on the counter.

A mug was sitting on the counter! He shot out of the bed and went straight for the kitchen. He was almost in a state of panic as he retrieved the mug and inspected it closely as if this might provide some clue as to why it was not in its proper place hanging from hook screwed into one of the upper cabinets. He felt himself breathing heavily as he scrutinized the mug, rotating it around several times a few inches from his face.

The panicked haze began to fade away and he remembered having a guest the night before. He'd offered her a cup of tea and removed the mug from its hook.

"I must not have put it back." He said with a marked lack of conviction. It just didn't sound like him, but then again, he'd ended up drinking quite a bit last night and then, well, had engaged in other activities that he wasn't extremely proud of. He set the mug back where he'd found it on the counter and made his way to the tiny bathroom and it's shower. He emerged precisely twelve minutes later clean shaven, freshly showered, and ready for the day.

Choosing his suit was simple enough; there was only one hanging from the rod suspended between two walls of the area he called his 'bedroom'. His ritual of putting the charcoal black, tailor fitted suit kept him from his coffee for another eight minutes - including brushing the jacket and pants for lint or any other artifacts - but when it was done he finally pulled out a stool and seated himself at the counter. After pouring his coffee he pulled open a drawer and removed his cell phone. He powered it up and set it next to his coffee mug.

He reached for the fruit bowl but paused as the phone began to vibrate on the counter. He had "1 New Message".

"That's odd. I've not given this number to anyone yet." Thomas gingerly touched the phone and slid it along the counter top until it was directly in front of him. He swiped his index finger across the screen and a text message popped up. 

"I know where she WAS, Detective. I was there too. Others will be there soon. Follow the blood, if you can smell it. I can. She could too."

He stared blankly at the text message and began typing on the virtual keyboard. "Who are you? Why did they take her?"

Thomas didn't really expect a reply. He'd been receiving messages, e-mails, phone calls, and letters from crazy ex-cons, murder suspects, and others that he'd put away during his time as a police officer and detective for the Seattle Police. So when the phone buzzed to notify him another new message he nearly spit his coffee back into the cup.

Tentatively he swiped the screen. Immediately after reading it, Thomas snatched the phone, placed it in his pocket and went straight out the only door in the apartment. The door slammed shut behind him only to be immediately reopened. He thrust his hand back inside to grab his keys from the hook by the door and the door closed again.

As he half-ran, half walked down the hall and into the stairwell he mumbled the words that had just changed everything for him, both personally and professionally.

"I am HER. At least, I was her. Now, I am not her. They took her because they needed her for what she can do. I will die soon if you can't smell the blood. Smell it, and find me. I was HER."

Thomas had received false tips before. This was nothing new. Yet, he somehow knew this was different.

Months had passed since he'd given up on finding his wife. She was gone. They had buried an empty casket and moved on. He'd sold the house and distanced himself from the life he once knew. This couldn't be her. It wasn't his wife. But who was it? And why?

He climbed into his Lincoln parked behind the red brick apartment building and pulled out onto the road as fast as possible. As he'd suspected, today was a big day. Even for a Monday.


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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #2 on: June 05, 2016, 06:31:34 am »
Sitting on the edge of a building several stories up, a man who if asked, would simply give you the name Ced, was sitting among a fair number of empty beer bottles,  Humming a little tune as he worked slowly on emptying another bottle and watching a storm rage in the distance drawing ever closer the longer he hummed and sang. It was a little after ten now, the sun had long since set, and the city was just really waking up. He stood up and stepped off the ledge of the building landing softly in an alley below, he began to sing the song he had been humming along to.

"O Lady of the Fair Hair,
Sing to me of the fair ancient land.
Your divine voice
Whispers the poetry of magic
that flow through the wind,
Like sweet-tasting water of the Boyne."

He stopped his little sing song and tipped the nearly empty bottle of beer and drained it last few drops, tossing the now empty bottle down the alley and listening to the sound of the glass shattering against the concrete below.  There was a storm coming. In more ways than one, but of course he had nothing to do with one of them. The other was entirely his doing, Seattle seemed like the idea place to settle down at least for now, close enough to the ocean and mountains for his presence and impact to be barely noticed at all, which is how he liked it.

People often were branded as crazy when they claimed they could influence the weather, or leap off buildings without being harmed, but Ced was different, came from a different world than most other people.  His blood ran thick with magic and he had lived long enough to see empires rise and fall. Kings crowned and killed, Lands discovered and settled.

"Girls, forever young and beautiful,
Dancing around the broken dun,
Where long forgotten heroes
sang of victory
And drank ales
to old memories."

When he arrived at the main street he paused and pulled a cigarette from its pack and lit the end inhaling the sweet smelling smoke before exhaling it and walking out among the 'normal' inhabitants of the city. He was likely expected at the lock and keye fairly soon, he had become a bit of a regular there over the past couple months, finding the odd mix of company rather comforting and familiar. No one asked questions, and no one dared cause trouble. The few who did, rarely returned intact. Ced hummed some more before finishing his small song finding himself turning now onto the street where the bar was located, as the thunder that had been drawing closer was now almost overhead, seemingly following Ced where he went.

"Sing to me one last time,
Goddess of the Fair Hair,
Before my old ear fail me.
Let me see you dance,
Before your beauty fade away
from my failing sight."

He stepped into the now busy and open bar just as the rain began to fall outside, he settled up at the bar and waited for his usual drink to be set in front of him. The city hadn't had any rain in a few days though it always seemed damp,  It reminded him of home. He hummed the last few bars of his song and listened for the next crack of thunder to announce the storms arrival.


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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #3 on: June 05, 2016, 07:36:00 am »
Mel smiled and walked the rounds of the room dropping off drinks and picking up empty glasses. She paused at the threshold of one area of the bar and the next.

Her eyes slid to one side and she turned, feeling a chill brush of air on the back of her neck, thinking she caught a flash of green. Her eyes danced around at the patrons, all "normal" looking enough if you didn't look to directly. It was part of what kept them safe in the human world- the tendency for most mortals to look away from strangers, those that couldn't hide used glamors of some sort, usually.

But The Lock and Keye was generally a haven, it's entrance wasn't flashy, Mel never advertised in the traditional sense, and a mild charm turned most human type people away with a shiver running down their spine, though they did get the odd one now and again. She didn't see one, or anyone out of the ordinary really, and yet...

Her eyes slide around the patrons, scrutinizing, looking for the source of the feeling. Her brow furrowed the longer she looked. There were always a few new faces, travelers, new folks in town. She was after all one of the only handful or so places like this, and since she'd simply made the place welcoming and comfortable instead of picking a 'side' she got all walks.


She did one full turn of the place and then shook her head. She had been too tired this morning to stop herself from falling into someone elses nightmare and since it was so vivid it seemed she was having a hard time shaking it off.

She took a deep breath and pulled her smile back on as she walked back to the bar and dropped her tray of empty glasses into the hands of one of servers and her hand stopped a bottle before it was poured.

"Really Veena, you've been here two weeks, has Ced ever taken Wild Turkey?" Her brow arched at the elemental who closed her eyes and pursed her lips and shook her head.

Mel let out a smiling sigh, "Why don't you go on down and see what those young warlocks are wanting," she jutted her chin down the bar and Veena nodded and walked away.

Mel turned back to Ced, and reached under the bar pulling out a different bottle, "You're late, and I have half a mind not to pour you a drink smelling of beer as you do. Hurts a gals feelings when you go roaming to other places for drinks."

Ced looked young, but Mel could always tell the old souls, either from doing the job so long, or when she slipped and lost her carefully cultivated control over of her rampant empathic abilities. The fact that he'd been drinking before coming in strummed the strings of disquiet in her head. She tipped the bottle anyway, looking at the honey colored liquid as it filled the glass. She looked up at him and put her hand over top of it before he could reach for it. "There are better ways, other things to try. We are after all a full service sort of place."

She almost chuckled realizing what a hypocrite she was. She offered spells and potions to people on a daily basis, but almost vehemently refused to use them for herself, as was so recently pointed out by her roommate.

She heard a rumble of thunder and then looked up at the ceiling to see the image of the outside sky as the clouds split open and let loose their down pour. She slowly tipped her head back down, a little sorry to not be outside to feel it, and looked back at Ced as she moved her hand away with a half smile, "Hollar if you change your mind."

She stepped away to go and get a mop and bucket just before several bedraggled and soaking folks came stumbling in from the rain.


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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #4 on: June 05, 2016, 05:38:46 pm »
Thomas sat in one of the two chairs in from of the Police Chief's desk, his leg twitching up and down nervously as he awaited whatever decision the city was going to make about his career. He turned his head slightly and could still make out the shapes of the Chief with three other gentleman through the partially open blinds of the large windows behind him. Thomas cast his eyes down and began to unconsciously roll the bottom of his straight black tie up and down his plain white shirt.

The door suddenly burst open and Thomas heard the coarse baritone of Police Chief Fleming as he finished his conversation with the men outside, "...agree to a certain extent, but I want to hear it from Detective Dunscaith first."

"Oh good, we are doing lunch orders. I'll take a Roast Beef with extra deli mustard, hold the mayo." Thomas hazarded a joke.

The Chief glared at him in the most picturesque example of a deadpan expression Thomas had ever seen. "Can it, Thomas. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit. I'm up to my goddamn ears in bullshit and I don't need you to help me drown in it."

Fleming sat down and was quiet a second. Thomas didn't dare say another word. Everyone knew what he had just been through. Hell, most of them had been over to try LeAnne's cooking and play cards. The precinct missed her too. But Thomas knew that he was too long in coming back after failing to solve her disappearance. He could tell by the sideways glances and uneasy small talk he'd gotten from his former colleagues that everyone was waiting to see if he'd snapped; if he still had it.

Not that Thomas could blame them. He was wondering the same thing.

"...that's why the FBI was brought in two weeks ago. We needed them to look into-"

Thomas suddenly realized he hadn't been listening. "Wait what?"

The Chief grunted, "You haven't been listening? Fuck, Thomas! I was trying to tell you something important! Are you even ready for this?"

"Yes Chief," Thomas said automatically, "I am as golden as a coin. What is going on around here? Why all the drama?"

"You are as golden as piss, Thomas, and you know it." The Chief said calmly. "Now, if you will do me the honor of listening, I can explain."

Thomas resettled in his chair and folded one leg across the other knee.

"Okay, so since you left there have been more cases like what happened to...," the Chief paused and reached for a small stack of papers. He fiddled with them and kept his eyes away from Thomas for a moment as he continued, "...LeAnne. A lot more. What's worse, it has been determined by the suits in Quantico that Seattle is basically the epicenter for this whole thing."

Thomas put his foot back down on the floor and leaned in. "So they created a task force. That's who those guys were out in the hall..."

"Right. But they don't know what they are looking for. But they do know where they want to start."

Thomas waited a moment for Fleming to continue with his explanation. When he didn't, the realization of where the FBI was going to start their investigation settled in. "They have named me a person of interest in this case, haven't they?"

The Chief looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat, "Yes. But don't say you find that surprising. Your wife was the first to go missing. And then the text you received this morn-"

"Yeah. Looks shitty." Thomas stood up and ran a hand through his short, light brown hair, disturbing the part a little, "If I was them I would want to investigate me too. They have nothing else." He turned to face the wall to his left. A picture of the Chief and his family in a nice white oak frame was the only thing hanging there on the wall. Thomas caught a hazy reflection of himself in the background behind the adorable little family. His normally square-ish face looked slightly misshapen and round.

Fleming broke the silence with cool, carefully chosen words, "No one actually thinks you...did something to LeAnne. How could we? You guys were-"

"Chief, how are we going to proceed?"

"Well, you can't be on the Task Force. They won't allow it despite how much sense it makes to me and Roberson, the new District Attorney. But, I am giving you your badge back."

Thomas turned to look at the Chief, "Yeah? So you are basically sticking it to them since this will force them to play nice if they expect us to share what I find."

Fleming allowed himself to smile and leaned back in his chair, "Stickin' it right up their asses, yes indeed. Oh and-" The Chief pulled open a drawer in his desk and lightly tossed a plastic bag containing Thomas' phone on the desktop, "-this is yours. You got a message while the FBI were going through this phone."

Thomas reached for the bag and started pulling the phone out.

"The FBI are probably already on their way." Fleming added.

Thomas turned the phone on, waited a moment, and then swiped across the front. The text was from the same number as before. This time the message read, "Drinks at Lock and Keye?" He stared at it for a moment and said, "I don't know the place." And swiftly left the room. He came back in almost immediately with a sheepish grin on his face. "Oh, umm, you said I get my-"

A slightly dingy but still serviceable Seattle Police Department crest and shield badge struck Thomas in the chest and fell to the floor. As he bent to pick it up he heard Fleming say, "Good to have you back, Dunscaith. I hope you find the answers you've been looking for."

Thomas left the office and went right for the records room. It was time for research. He'd never heard of the Lock and Keye, but after the day was over, he'd know everything the city did about the place. Later tonight he'd go there and learn what the place really was.


Hours later, Thomas was standing in the rain eating a soggy burger. Across the street was the Lock and Keye. Traffic in and out of the place was fairly light but Thomas could already tell that this bar was going to be an interesting place. There was a mixture of the usual fare as far as customers went in this neighborhood, but there was an occasional straggler from time to time that was catching the Detective's eye.

They had this look of relief on their faces as they made the last few steps to the entrance of the place. A look like they had finally reached a safe place and could put up their feet. What were these people afraid of? What made this bar a haven for them?

He finished his burger and tossed the foil wrapper in an overstuffed can to his left. He pulled his rain soaked overcoat around him a bit tighter and walked across the street. He entered the building and went straight for the bar, shaking off a bit of the rain as he made his way to a stool. 



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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #5 on: June 17, 2016, 05:39:08 am »
"I'm not quite sure what your getting at Lass,  I'm simply here for a drink and some entertainment, same as always, Besides if you remember what your former master told you,  There's not a brew strong enough anywhere to knock one like me on my arse."

Ced smiled and placed a single very old silver coin on the back of her hand before she stepped away to get the mop. He tapped aimlessly on the bar in time with the sheets of rain coming down from above, The storm now raging in full effect the thunder rippling across the sky and the lightning causing the lights in the bar to flicker ever so gently.

"The locke here never seems to disappoint when it comes to the strange and mysterious, You never know what kind of vagrants would come through those doors.. 'specially in this weather."

He produced a second even older silver coin and set it dancing along his knuckles, this was a simple way for Ced to maintain the storm without having to focus on any sort of song,  He turned and looked back towards Mel who was busy making small talk with a table as she mopped up the growing puddle by the door.  He would have felt bad for giving her the extra work, if it wasn't for the fact he knew the lass liked the storms he called,  and the business they could create for the bar.

"Say Mel, You haven't seen that lovely singing lass about have you, its been far too long since shes drawn a crowd here, what'd you do scare her oft? " 

The woman Ced refered to was in all actuality a siren, one of the last ones to be exact. Who sang for tips from time to time in a corner of the bar. He fancied her a bit and had been turned down countless times upon asking her for a date. Sure part of her appeal was her song, but there wasn't a soul alive who didn't feel drawn to her when she sang, But Ced had been one of the luckier ones to have actually struck up a conversation with her on numerous occasions.

His breath caught in his throat when the door opened and a man stepped in, right away he could tell there was something deep and buried in the man, that he was unaware of, Yes he was sure of it there was something this man was completely unaware of. He was totally average, a normal human and he was totally unaware he was surrounded by vast amounts of magic.

Ced lifted his glass and nearly emptied its contents in a single gulp, and suddenly he knew what it was about this man he noticed, aside from the fact he was carrying a weapon that would do him little to no good in this bar.   The mans fly was undone,  He grinned and chuckled to himself before raising a hand to single to the young bartender for another drink.

To the man Ced would appear completely normal and in fact would reside simply at the edge of his vision unless he drew attention to himself on purpose. This is where Ced and his kind would reside, He was rich with faerie blood. Not the little winged things that the stories were written about, but the old tricksters stories were written about. The ones who had stolen babies and replaced them with changelings,  The ones who would kidnap people away in the night to dance and drink with night after night until they died of exhaustion or consumption. His kind were the unseen, but they were well known.  Ced and his families speciality was misdirection, the stories of 'will o the wisps' could be attributed to his family line, Leading travelers into danger and often to their deaths. This is why he could call storms out of nowhere.

Ced however was quite bored this evening so he looked towards the man and snapped his fingers, allowing the man to notice Ced's presence.

"Quite the storm eh Pal?  They seem to come out of nowhere these days huh? Damn west coast weather"



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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #6 on: June 21, 2016, 08:10:44 am »
Mel glanced up to the glass panels in the ceiling as the rain hammered harder and she gave Ced a long sided glance as she walked back over and leaned the mop against the back wall of the bar and he asked about the siren, "I couldn't pay her to sing, and she wanted more than tips. She got a steady gig over at one of Ivan's places is what I heard." She suppressed a shudder thinking about the handful of dives and dens that Ivan Kirov owned around the city. Mel was strict about her exposure to humans, there were laws after all, but Ivan reeled them in. She wasn't sure how exactly he got away with it.

At the thought of humans Mel's eyes snapped up to the large double wood doors as a man walked in. She flinched slightly at the roil of emotions coming from him, before she tamped it down in her head with the rest. She didn't know what it was about humans, but they seemed to scream their emotions louder at her when they came in than anything else.

She did a quick look around the bar, her eyes falling on a few of her patrons as her mouth muttered a spell in Latin. "Et in obiectum invisibilium, dicendum quod esse somnium." A slight half smile cut her mouth at her handy work as the spell washed over the room and she saw through it and saw a few looks of relief. Not everyone was adept at hiding what they were.

She was pulled from her personal victory as Ced signaled to her. She poured him another glass and gave him a look that told him not to cause trouble as he started talking to the mortal man. She nearly rolled her eyes at his joke. Not all the weather could be blamed on him, but this particular storm had his taste to it.

 Mel stashed the bottle she kept especially for him and looked down the bar at a trembling Veena who was closest to where the man, officer of some type seeing the gun, had sat. She grabbed the mop and walked down and pushed it at the younger girl, "There's about to be a very large puddle by the front door, be a dear and go and get it taken care of."

Veena didn't hesitate to run away from the human, but Mel pretended not to notice as she turned to Thomas to ask cool and casual, "What can I do for you officer?" as the doors banged open again, letting in sheets of rain and a very large and shaggy headed looking fellow soaked to the bone and forming a large puddle even as he turned to shut the doors. Veena gave her a backwards glance at seeing it, but shook her head and went to mop up.

Before the officer could say much to a Mel, a dark haired, well put together beauty in a tight black leather and lace number slipped up to the side of him out of nowhere and set a drink down in front of him.  One of her red manicured and ring bedecked nails danced around the rim for a moment as she smiled smoothly at him, her crystal blue eyes dancing with a dark mirth as they held him there and she said, "He's here to meet me."her eyes darkened ever so slightly, "Drinks at Lock and Keye" she quoted the text as her eyes slid to the drink she'd set in front of him and then back up.

Mel almost hissed through her teeth and her fingers started to sketch something out watching the drink shimmer for a moment, but before she got far into her spell she stopped herself. She didn't need mystical enforcement in here anymore than she need this mortal one. She ran a fairly clean and legit business, all the proper licensing both mortal and mystical, but she knew she offered some things that were frowned upon, just like most establishments like hers.

She still couldn't help the tightness in her usually relaxed face, "Malise. We haven't seen you around here in years," her tone implied she wished it had been longer, or never.

Finally the other woman looked at her, "I've just moved back into town and I just had to come patron an old haunt. Now if you'll excuse us, Detective Dunscaith and I have business to attend to." Her fingers stopped dancing on the glass and so did the hold she'd been spelling him with for the moment.

Mel hesitated, she didn't need to be mixed up in whatever it was going on with this Detective, but she couldn't have a mortal harmed here either. "Wait!", she dropped her hand over the glass, "Just saw a fly drown in the glass, let me get you another." She pulled it away before anyone could see or protest,  and dropped it in a bin under the counter to be taken back to the kitchen and washed. "What'll it be?"


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Re: The Last Watch [Closed]
« Reply #7 on: July 05, 2016, 12:13:34 am »
Thomas wasn't sure he enjoyed the atmosphere of this place. He'd felt this way before in a variety of specific locations. After all, he was a cop. It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for him to walk into a place and feel like he was the only one missing out on some inside joke everyone else was in on.

He couldn't put a finger on it, but he was certain there was a lot more to this place then a first glance would reveal.

It didn't take long for one of the bar's patrons to address Thomas after he'd found a seat. The interaction seemed pleasant enough, which was more than he could of said for the Irish place six blocks east, and Thomas smiled back, "Quite a storm indeed. Almost feels like mother nature has it out for me sometimes."

The woman behind the bar slipped by and asked him what she could do fro him. He ordered a drink in an attempt to seem casual, "Woodford, neat". Everyone here knew he was a cop, but there was no reason for him to be stingy. 

Before he realized she was even the room, a remarkable young woman was right next to him. He was about to protect to her being so close but she recited the text he'd received that had brought him (and the four undercovers staged around the block) to this bar. He found himself inexplicably drawn to this woman and even barely noticed when the bar tender whisked away his drink and asked again for his order. "On second thought," he said, still looking at the young woman, "hold the whiskey. I need to have a conversation with this one."

He motioned toward a booth along the wall and stood from his stool.