[hr][center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLjJlNmJiMi5VMmhoYm1VZ1ZtRnVZblZ5Wlc0LC4w/enigma.enigma.png[[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/nX3quKN.png[/img][/center][right][code]The Vanburen Estate[/code][/right][hr]

Shane felt his fist involuntarily clench as his peace was disturbed and the glass pulled away from him. Had it been anyone else save Sabrina... Well, something about fools and vices and probably the possibility of violence. Shane looked ahead, his face neutral but inside he felt his anger stew, exacerbated by Sabrina's words confirming the Vanburens plan essentially was indeed to charge in there without any kind of plan and hope for the best.

[colour=SteelBlue]"No offence, but even if I drank the entire bar I'd still probably be more use out there than most of them."[/colour] The unsaid generalisation included Sabrina. Shane felt enough warmth and sympathy to not directly say as such but it was likely even she understood that. 

Most of the Vanburens were not fighters, he couldn't really be quite as sure with Alexander or the new girl but as far as he was aware the rest of them were lucky to have seen a schoolyard scrap much less a situation with real, possibly life threatening, danger. Trisha, Ezra, Georgie. All of them were egocentric and headstrong, though come to think of it so was most of the Vanburens. How lightly they took the prospect of directly fighting the cultists, possibly even going further than merely beating them infuriated Shane as much as it distressed him. He wasn't any kind of commando but he had the frame and the experience to handle a gun, Georgie on the other hand would likely break her fucking shoulder if she tried using that rifle, yet she carried it haphazardly on her shoulder and whisked it off into her little pocket garden. He didn't doubt the Vanburens couldn't win if they went forward with a direct confrontation, but their collective arrogance was going to get someone hurt... Or worse.

Shane realised he'd went off into his own world as he heard Sabrina speak again and sit next to him at the bar.

[quote][color=coral]"I don't think going to fight the cult is a great idea... what if one of us gets hurt? Or what if we hurt one of them? I don't really want anything bad to happen to anybody."[/color]
[/quote]

He shrugged and folded his arms over the bar table.

[colour=SteelBlue]"Be nice to at least do it with a plan of attack."[/colour] He muttered just loud enough for his sister to catch. [colour=SteelBlue]"The reality is, Sabrina, that we don't have the luxury of considering much else. Sure, maybe Arabelle's faith is right and this cultist turncoat is willing to help us stop them, how do we know they won't already have packed up and moved by the time we figure something out? Or that they've switched gears and started getting ready to hit us again, or that they have friends they've called in. Or any number of variables that take away our advantage of knowing where they are right now and what they want."[/colour]

He turned his head slightly to face her. [colour=SteelBlue]"You saw that blonde girl today. They already know we're searching for 'em, odds are they're prepping to go to ground as it is and we have to pray for a new lead to find 'em again."[/colour]

His expression softened to one slightly more sympathetic as he unfolded his arms.

[colour=SteelBlue]"I understand you don't want to fight them. No one's gonna make you either. But the reality is that these kids won't stop, 'less we break apart their operation."[/colour] There was more he wanted to say. An admission of faith in his sister, a statement of resolve that would renew Sabrina's confidence that her former cop brother had things under control. Even something as simple as a thanks for checking up on him even if it was unasked.

But it all eluded him. The old Shane would be able to flash her something as simple as a smile to set her mind at ease, but he could not even find it in himself to give her that. All he could do was place a hand on her shoulder for a moment before turning back to face the bar. No less bitter and on edge after having been interrupted during a chance to strip away some of the anxiety of being surrounded by his family. He looked ahead at the bottle of Jack Daniels placed deliberately on the shelf adjacent to him. Seeing his warped reflection in the brown glass.