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 Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2017 11:12 am
A single finger trailed the rim of her glass, blue eyes idly watching the motion as an ice cube within the glass slowly toppled downwards, the inevitable warmth of the restaurant forcing it to shrink. She knew it wasn't the wisest, staying powered up while lingering within a restaurant. But really - why not? Would one of the meddlesome senshi dare try to make a scene in such a busy place, when she was simply finishing off a drink? Probably not, if they were smart. Sure, her outfit was peculiar, but it was no worse than someone in uniform coming in for a brief relief from the cold, bitter streets. Everyone had been far too caught up in their own business to notice the woman's entrance, much less her keeping to herself at the lonely bar area. It had been an uneventful evening. Yet another series of hours wasted on trying to lure victims for a quick energy fix - staring at them from across restaurant and bar doors got boring fast. So why not take advantage of one of these places and try them out, for once? Smirking to herself, she finally picked up her glass and downed the remainder of the mixed drink. Sliding out a few dollar bills, she tucked them under the empty glass and swiveled around in the barstool, preparing for her eventual departure as eyes scanned the room for potentials she could walk out with.
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Posted: Sun Mar 26, 2017 9:21 am
Faustite enjoyed the growing boons of anonymity that the Negaverse afforded him. Often, now, he took to the many parapets lining the city to look down on happenings that he would never otherwise see. Bar fights, trysts, toppling friendships, newly-formed business partners, private exchanges between taxi drivers, the passive aggression of an unfulfilled chef, the creeping paranoia of a female jogger after dark, the musings of a drunk before his empty swimming pool. These each fleshed out Destiny City's coursing life. They formed the desperate, disparate backbone in the booming metropolis that otherwise remained obscured to his teenaged eyes.
But creativity, cleverness and cartoons delivered him to the rooftops where most never surveyed, whether due to a lack of attentiveness or trepidation for what they might find. And for the longest time now, weeks in a row, Faustite found success in peering down on others. He could watch their dealings with ease and never once be discovered.
Until tonight, when the sky opened up in a blustering torrent.
Never one for the rain without an umbrella, Faustite reached street level and tucked himself beneath awnings and outcroppings in his quick search for some temporary respite. The glow of indoor lighting combined with familiar auric energy provided the best welcome that he would find along the sprawling city blocks, and Faustite heeded it as fast as he could. The not-quite-soaked lieutenant pushed past the wooden doors with wet fingers and was greated by a clarion bell. Polished wooden tables flanked by booths dotted the floor plan, while a lengthy L-shaped counter space marked the very center of the dining room floor. Alongside it, many stools waited for incoming patrons as they filed in from the rain-soaked scene outside. A bar, he realized. Of course he stumbled his way into a bar.
Hands smoothed the front of his uniform and adjusted the rumpled collar of his damp coat as he surveyed the attending members. He knew not how to spot a Negaverse agent beyond searching for 'dark military', and even that turned up a couple fairly formal outfits among those at the booths. He knew he was out of place by his age, too; in recognizing this, he settled on boldness buying his way into solace from the storm. He approached the end of the bar, near where a woman in darks sat, and claimed his own seat on the squeaky stool. He flashed her another glance; she was one of the suspected for the source of the energy signature.
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Posted: Tue Mar 28, 2017 11:43 am
Likewise, Angelite sensed the presence of a similar aura approaching and her eyes narrowed as the door opened. The sound of thunder accompanied the newcomer into the bar, assuring her of the nasty weather outside if the dripping individual's damp clothing wasn't evidence enough. Perhaps it would be best to stay indoors for a little bit longer. The agent in question seemed rather young to be frequenting such a place, but she held her tongue. Who was she to judge anyone on their age, when she was a grown adult thrust into a world filled with magical teenagers? Slipping the tip back into her pocket for use later, she flagged down the bartender for a second refill. No sense in not enjoying herself a little bit further if she'd be stuck indoors until the storm passed along. Her gaze shifted to the side as she heard the squeak of the stool's grind. The young man had taken a seat nearby, the chair swiveling slowly around. "Care for anything?" She motioned in the direction of the employee behind the bar, who was busying himself with her second drink request. "I doubt he'll serve you anything more than a soda, but a drink's still a drink, right?"
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Posted: Sun Apr 02, 2017 8:46 am
When Faustite heard the woman address him, he looked to her tiredly. Plainly, the weather burnt him out - even before he knew the Negaverse's power, Faustite struggled with staying away on most days when the rain fell in steady sheets. The sky opened up outside with that same rhythmic procession, lulling the many who were not immune to its wiles. Perhaps that left Faustite looking younger than usual.
There's a Negaverse agent here, he reminded himself. But how is anyone supposed to know who they are? If we're supposed to blend in, then how are we to recognize each other in these busy trappings? The manual mentioned nothing of it. Neither did Umber. Are we supposed to ask like we're looking for directions to the nearest funeral home? Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Faustite put off his answer for internal monologue no longer; after wetting his lips habitually, he spoke. "Just water." The bartender would know with certainty, but perhaps the woman would offer enough of a loose connection that the bartender might brush off his presence there.
Or he'd cause a scene and, in the commotion of getting thrown outside, Faustite might scrape together some energy.
Internal monologuing offered no answer for how best to approach the situation, however, so Faustite settled on straightforward clarity for broaching his suspicions. He cast another glance to the woman - dark hair, dark clothes, with an outfit reminiscent of a hospital - and spoke lowly. The constant noise from the television served an easy backdrop. "You look like a Negaverse agent."
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Posted: Wed Apr 19, 2017 8:46 am
She was amused at the bluntness of his approach. Then again, she was amused by a lot of things - alcohol tended to have that kind of effect. Warm, tingling feelings to help assuage the stress of the day, of thoughts of returning home to an empty house or the fact she'd have to make time to seek out energy yet another night that week, to fulfill quotas. "And you look like a smart kid." The bartender approached and she ordered the stranger a water. A suspicious side-eye was offered in both of their directions but no words were exchanged, thankfully. Perhaps it was still early in the evening for him to not care. Perhaps he felt wasn't paid enough to care. Who knew. Glancing back in the Lieutenant's direction, she offered a smile. While she had never been good at guessing ages, the youthful expression made it easy to assume that he was still of high school age. Either that or he simply had an unfortunate case of the baby face. "I take it that patrolling has gotten boring, this evening?" Strickenized Apologies, Angel's muse has been a struggle for me, lately.
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Posted: Sat Apr 22, 2017 5:27 pm
Faustite snorted, then looked out toward the rain. Not smart enough. The downpour caught him off-guard, and the lack of easy access umbrellas grew to be another unforeseen inconvenience of operating alone. But that wouldn't matter now — he found company of a similar sort.
Faustite waited in silence while the glass found its coaster, half-drenched in the beads that slithered and snowballed down the rim of the glass. The coaster, one in a series of mind games, soaked and warped with the condensation. He thanked her then, and added, "do you know him?" The glance meant something, he was certain. Did she frequent the place, then? Did she spend her time here draining energy, coaxing it from her loosened conversation partner with every touch of nails on skin? There were many ways to drain energy, he was told. Maybe such advantageous little ventures truly did transpire in a place like this.
Faustite braced his forearms against the bar and sipped the water thoughtfully. Patrolling is never boring, he thought bitterly. You're spending each night keyed up and waiting to get caught by the enemy or the police. Maybe that's a thrill. Maybe that's a waste. What would she think?
My money's on a thrill.
"No," he answered when the bartender gave them distance. "But it started storming." Reaching out, he seized a pen from a small cup near a stack of free giveaway surveys. A napkin came next from beneath a small basket of peanuts, and on its back, he wrote his Negaverse alias in small block letters. After resting the paper in her purview, Faustite retired the pen on the side of the napkin nearest her.
"Do you spend a lot of time here? Everyone looks so…" He sighed through his nose as he searched for the proper word. His brow furrowed as it often did, and he rejoined his sentence with mild disappointment. "Unaware."
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