[Center] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/25b9f4eb-a8b1-46ca-8ab3-88c168ed18b3.png[/img] Joel Beck [b]Location[/b]: Pay by the hour room in a sketchy bar [b]Tags[/b]: Two hookers and a pig [/center] Joel made his way up the narrow staircase that lead to the upper floor of the bar. There were five rooms occupied by a handful of ladies of the night. This was probably a safer gig than getting into random men's cars, so Joel couldn't be pressed to report the less than legal activities that went on up there. He picked the last room at the end of the hall and was immediately met by a scantily clad woman who hastily hid her phone and struck a pose on the bed. "Hey there Papi," She cooed in a low voice, "I love a man fresh from the fight." Joel dug into his pocket and pulled out the cash he'd just won. He separated a hundred and handed it to her. "Out." "Say less," The woman said, immediately dropping the act. She stuffed the money into her bra, grabbed her phone, and sauntered out of the room. Joel set his drawsting backpack on the bed and shoved his suit aside to find the medical supplies he kept. He took the roll of ace bandage and carefully wrapped it around his chest, securing the broken ribs enough that he could push through tonight. The skill at which he performed the self administered first aid suggested that he had done this once or twice before. In the small bathroom, Joel cleaned the dried blood off his fresh wounds and applied butterfly closures to the nastier cuts. A chill in the air and a black cloak in the reflection behind him alerted Joel to the sudden presence of a friend. [i]"Wasn't the purpose of the suit I gave you to avoid wounds like this?" [/i] "Can't afford to get too comfortable, Reap. Won't do me any favors to forget how to dodge hits." "[i]Hmmm.[/i]" That was the only response he received to his logic. Joel was actually relieved to see his arcane friend; he had a few questions after the day he'd had. "Hey Reaper, can I ask a question?" [i]"Of course, child."[/i] Joel paused and turned to the goulish face in black garb. "You are real, right? I'm not just…imagining this whole thing?" [i]"I am very real, yes."[/i] "So I'm not just schizophrenic?" [i]"I know unfortunately little of the ailments that haunt the living. But I do know that your mind is very damaged."[/i] Joel let out a cold chuckle. "Thanks, that's really helpful, bud." [i]"I wish I could tell you more, but-"[/i] "Yeah, yeah. The rules, I know." Joel sighed, "I know there's things you're not telling me. You want to, but you can't. I can respect that…But, if you aren't allowed to interfere with the living, then why doesn't that include [i]me[/i]?" [i]"It's a bit complicated[/i]." "Is it because I talk to dead people?" [i]"Something like that[/i]." "Okay. But I'm not, like, [i]dead[/i], right?" [i]"No, of course not. That would be an incredibly cheesy plot twist."[/i] "Yeah. But you'd tell me if I was dead, [i]right[/i]?" Joel turned back to the mirror to place another tape on his hairline cut. [i]"Joel, I can assure you that if you were still dead, you would be fully aware of it."[/i] "[i]Still[/i] dead? What?" Joel spun around to face the Reaper, but he was gone. He let out a frustrated sigh. Any time he managed to pry any sort of information out of that cryptic fuck, the goul took off. He strode back over to the bed and tossed his supplies back into the bag. Joel suited up and went back out into the hall. Immediately, he was faced by the woman that he'd kicked out. She snapped her gum, eyes looking him up and down judgementally. "Weird shit costs extra," She said flatly. "Sorry, got more [i]weird shit[/i] than cash." Wraith stepped aside to let her have her room back. But before she could close the door, he turned to her. "Speaking of, have you seen a Jerry Walters here tonight?" The woman made an amused sneer. "Yeah, he's fuckin' Becka in that room right there." She pointed up the hall. Wraith thanked her, and she promptly closed the door in his face. He approached the other room and didn't hesitate to barge in. There was a shrill scream and a naked woman hastily clamored off the bed and began picking up her outfit. A bewildered, pale, balding man was left behind. He immediately pulled the covers over himself and began to curse. "The fuck is wrong with you?! Get the hell out!" Wraith turned to the now dressed hooker, "You probably want to leave." "He still owes me money," She snapped back at him. Wraith walked further into the room and picked up the discarded trousers off the floor. He pulled a thick wallet out of the back pocket and held it out to her. The woman wasted no time snatching the whole thing and darting out the door. "Hey!" Jerry protested. He made like he was about to get up and chase her. "Sit. Down." Wraith's voice was dangerous and low. The meeker man immediately did as he was told. Wraith knew a stuck pig when he saw one; it wouldn't take much to make this one squeal. "If this about the money I owe Luke, tell him I got it tomorrow," Jerry whimpered, "I'm good for it, I swear." "I don't care about your dept," Wraith drew closer and the man cowered under the sheets. Barely his head poked out now. "I'm here to discuss your real estate investments." "What?" "The ceramics factory. If you're gonna' buy a property to conduct shady business, you should really use a fake name." The man balked. "Hey, I had perfectly legal plans for that! I was gonna' level that eyesore and open a strip club and lounge. One of the real swanky type places." "And what is it being used for now?" The man went a little paler. "I-I dunno'. I got a message that some company wanted to use it. Never got a name. They sent money through the mail, no return address. In this kind of business, I learn to not ask questions, you know?" He nervously wrang the sheets in his hands. "You haven't been there recently?" "No, not since whoever began to do whatever out there. I don't wanna' be no witness." Wraith had to admit that Jerry seemed truthful. After all, a coward like that only stayed alive by keeping their noses out of the wrong places. That meant his trail was running cold. The only thing he had left was staking the factory out and hoping he caught the scum in the act. Wraith turned and left, leaving the portly man to scramble for his clothes and slam the door shut behind him. The others seemingly hadn't shown, so Wraith was on his own for now.