Punished GN
AtomicEmperor
FernStone
NoriWasHere
Arkitekt
Damycles
Fetzen
AtrociousCollab w/ @MagratheanWhale
The drink Calypso had fixed herself put fire in her belly, effectively burning away the yellow and pushing the creeping feeling of dread away from the center of her attention. She limited herself to just the one. She had learned at a young age that there were what people called “fun drunks” and then there were people like her who drank a handful of vodka tonics and then spent the rest of the night crying into a toilet. She hadn’t been drunk like that in a long time, and she wasn’t planning on ruining her mascara today. There was plenty she could do around the bar while it was dead, from detail cleaning to tossing out all of the expired snacks, but she didn’t bother. Her job was secure ever since one of the members of the Black Brethren threatened to burn the place down if her girl Calypso wasn’t there to mix her famous margarita.
The trick was just to use an orange instead of a lime, or in the case of the options at the Black Hole Bar, an orange flavor spray instead of a lime flavor spray. Anyone could do it, but it was nice to know that she could slack on the job without facing reprimand as long as she kept the Brethren blitzed.
While the drink had steeled her courage for the lonely red-eye shift, it had down little to qualsh her boredom and had directly damaged her willpower. Her phone was in her hand, and she was scouring intently through the Capri requests. The onset of day didn’t mean the closing of the bar, but it did mean that it was nearing the end of her shift. A little power nap, a caffeine pick-me-up, and a light snack was all that stood between her and a quick, immoral payday, assuming she could find a job that didn’t rattle any alarm bells. Surgically she swiped away requests that she found suspicious, knowing while Peacekeepers didn’t know the terrorist had just been an unknowing Capri courier that they still set up stings to hit a monthly quota of arrests. She was doubtful that she was suited to survive in a private prison.
“Good morning.”
Calypso jumped at the voice and almost dropped her phone as she looked up from the screen, more embarrassed than anything that she hadn’t noticed a customer enter. The mild embarrassment faded from her face except for the slight betrayal of color in her cheeks as she gave the man a smile while shoving the phone in her jacket. She quickly looked over him, to see if he was drunk, dangerous, or both, but he mostly seemed just like any normal sad sack who started the day out with a drink or five. Shoot, if it wasn’t for the beard, as well kept as it was Calypso still saw facial hair as a gross food and sweat trap normally grown to hide a weak chin, he’d almost be okay looking, for an older dude. However, more than anything she just felt relief to see another human being; for a moment there she felt as if she had missed an invite to Bingo.
“A whisky, neat, please.”
It was just for a moment, but Calypso continued to stare at him, somewhat in awe that he had said please. When was the last time she heard that word?
Then she realized she had a job to do.
“Oh, crap, sorry,” she said hurriedly with a light laugh as she fetched him a glass and heavily poured in some well whisky since, well, it was the only kind they had. “I’ll start you a tab,” she said over her shoulder as she turned back around, hit the touch screen, unzipped the top of her jacket, and then grabbed herself a glass. “Nobody should drink alone.”
She filled it with tonic and shot of water from a vodka bottle, typically reserved for the patrons who were too drunk to serve but too rowdy not to give a drink, and walked to the bar across from the man to join him for a drink. Calypso leaned forward and squeezed what mild assets she had together as she propped herself up against the bar before pushing up her hat and giving the man a sheepish smile. Her face wasn’t the prettiest, but it was a friendly one. Meanwhile, she prayed that it wasn’t obvious how desperately she needed a halfway decent tip after a night of making absolutely zilch.
“Feel free to tell me to shove off if you want some privacy, but as you can see things are a bit slower around here than usual,” said Calypso, stirring her drink with a straw as she squinted at the man. “Although...I’m pretty good with faces, and yours is one that I haven’t seen before. I’m Calypso. It’s nice to meet someone whose mother raised them right, for a change, although you might wanna stash those manners if some of the regulars show up. So," she took a sip from her watered down tonic and then ran a finger along the rim of her glass, "would you rather have some deep probing questions and unwanted wisdom from a less-than-qualified bartender, or talk about how poorly they programmed the weather on this rock and listen to me pretend to know about sports?”
The bartender was doing all the usual tricks to grab a few extra dollars out of Ardur's pocket, and he was going to play along with them for as long as possible. He noticed her pressing her body forward, while squeezing the twins closer together to add some depth while also digging for whatever conversational topic he would like best; even if he chose to drink in silence, which he wasn't. He was behind enemy lines, after-all, he needed to get acquainted with someone and get acquainted fast before the regulars showed up for their drinks. This girl, Calypso as she called herself seemed genuine enough to Ardur. A little obsessed with outdated tech, maybe,though definitely not a cut-throat gang member. Ardur did not get that vibe from her. Maybe, she could keep him company when the Black Brethren showed up and keep them off his back while he let his ears do the real work. Ardur placed his metallic hand around the glass, raised it up, and stopped in front of his head.
"A pleasure to meet you, Calypso," Ardur spoke as he allowed a sly grin to spread across his face, "and thanks for the tip, I'll make sure to drop my manners when the old crowd starts shuffling in," he paused as he took a sip. "My name is Johnathan, though everyone calls me John," Ardur lied. "You gave me some interesting choices but I think I'll settle on deep probing questions," Ardur finished with a soft chuckle before taking another sip.
Man, this whisky is terrible, I'd prefer Something Else, Ardur thought to himself. Ardur did a quick scan of the bar from his perspective and noticed the only entrance or exit appeared to be the door in which he came through, unless of course he was forced to jump through a window.
"Phew," breathed Calypso with an exaggerated sigh, her eyes lingering on his cybernetic hand. "What a relief, John. I really didn't want to have to BS my way through a conversation about how the Olympus Monsters really need to focus on their defense. Let's see, probing question, probing question," she said as she pretended to think hard about what she would say next, her fingers drumming on her cheek. As if hit by a spark of genius, she snapped her fingers. "I suppose the obvious thing to be curious about is why someone would forego coffee this early in the morning in favor for the good stuff. Rough night at the office, I take it?"
"Roughest," Ardur said as he lost the smile as he rubbed his forehead with his hand before letting it drop to the bar-top bellow, "I'll spare you the details, I can only imagine how many sad sacks like me you see every morning, but suffice it to say that the boss has it out for me," Ardur paused as he took another sip of whisky.
"What about you?" Ardur asked. He looked back towards Calypso, "you seem like you'd be better suited for a," Ardur paused as he pretended to search his head for the word, complete with a drawn out uhh, "a club that's more, umm, bumping... is that what you kids today say?" Ardur asked with another chuckle as he playfully shifted his eyes from side to side, "What are you doing in a dive bar like this?" Ardur finished as he took another sip.
"Us kids actually wrapped back around to calling things the bee's knees," she said with a chuckle, brushing a wisp of hair behind her ear. "I'll take what you said as a compliment, but from the few times I've been dragged to a club I can assure you that I would not like working in one. Much rather deal with the occasional creep or junkie than some rich, like, ohmigod shots, underage daddy's girl any day if the week."
"What is it that you do?" she asked, taking the drink up to her mouth and letting it linger for a moment.
"You are too right, I guess the clientele you serve here also develop a closer relationship to their trusty bartender so the tips must be better," Ardur chuckled again before taking another sip, "in the clubs you rarely see the same people twice, after-all." Ardur paused as he took another sip; she had asked the dreaded question but Ardur was ready, "I'm an analyst for my nine to five. Boss sends over a bunch of spreadsheets and other files filled to the brim with numbers and I convert that, with some skill, into something he can later present to the board," he paused as he took a sip, shaking his head from side to side again.
"Those damn numbers." Ardur again paused as he adopted a thousand yard stare into the counters behind the bar, and held it for a few seconds.
"My side hustle is that of a private investigator," Ardur chuckled. "Thank god I have my day job because I suck at finding people," he added as he turned his attention back towards Calypso. He took another swig of the whisky, though careful only to take in a little bit at a time. Today was going to be a long one, after-all.
While most people's eyes would glaze over when someone talked about their boring, pencil pusher gig, Calypso kept her interest on John. An eyebrow raised ever so slightly when he said he had a nine to five. Either he worked the weird hours of nine pm to five am, he worked drunk, or he was lying. She didn't have much time to think it over, however, as the thought was rushed out of her mind with a wave of panic the second he mentioned he was a private investigator. Calypso unwillingly tensed and straightened herself upright. He wasn't investigating the bombing, was he? Even if he was, she needed to act cool. She gave a stretch, twisting her torso side to side, and leaned back on to the counter as he finished talking.
"An investigator? That's so cool," she said. She was being honest there, even if she was now on edge. She leaned in and gave him a wink, "Are you on a case right now, Mr. Private Eye?"
Ardur turned his attention fully to Calypso, "As a matter of fact I am, Calypso," Ardur responded as he returned the wink. "Nothing exciting though, little kid runs away from the foster home and is never heard from again, his foster sister retained my service about a month ago but I haven't made much progress," Ardur lied as he shook his head from side to side. "I'm worried that he has simply joined a gang and if he did, I can't help him out of there," Ardur took a drink, "but that's the way that works, you know," Ardur finished. He wasn't going to spend much longer in the bar, maybe another two drinks before he headed out and tried his luck elsewhere.
"Tell me about it," said Calypso, trying to suppress the relief in her voice. "I grew up in this area. A lot of my friends thought joining a gang was the best way to get out of their bad situation. Needless to say, a lot of them ended up in an even more helpless situation." She looked down, her face clouding with darkness before she noticed his empty drink. As fast as it had disappeared, her friendliness was back, "Let me refresh that for you."
She grabbed the glass and traded it for a new one with yet another heavy-handed pour of cheap whisky. "It's pretty noble of you to take a job like that, though. There can't be that much pay in it," she said. "Consider these on the house. Mostly as a thanks for keeping a girl company during the slowest shift of her life. So," she propped her hand underneath her chin and played with the straw in her drink, "does this kid have a name? I'd love to help the cause."
"I'd still like to leave a tip for the excellent service," Ardur said as he took another sip, keeping his composure as best as possible as the horrid taste left a residual burn on his soul, "I do appreciate the gesture nonetheless."
Ardur paused as he grabbed a napkin from nearby as well as snagging a used cigarette in lieu of a pen. He proceeded to write a phone number on it, every carefully, using the burnt soot of the cigarette as best as possible and after he was finished the number 1-800-968-4357 was somewhat legible through the crude penmanship.
"The kids given name, according to my client, is Dak though, again, I presume he has a street name by now," Ardur shifted the napkin towards Calypso, "he was last seen here in the Ghajotia district, at an average height for his age, with an average build for his age, and clean of cybernetics. The only photo I have of him is back at the office so I can't show you much other than that." Ardur pointed to the napkin. "That's an anonymous tip line, I check it every day,” he said before he took another, longer sip. "If you hear something, give it a call and I will follow up on it," Ardur finished with a grin.
While his plan was looking dead in the water involving the gang, at least he could get some more contacts on the ground.
"I know if I had a name like that I'd be changing it the first second I could," joked Calypso, folding the napkin up before she tucked it away for safekeeping. "Still, I'll ask around. For his sister's sake, and to make your work a little bit easier."
At that moment, the front door opened and a small group of people walked in as they talked loudly. Calypso recognized them as a group of regulars, some small timers that talked big and ran with the Black Brethren. A look of frustration passed over her face as she excused herself from the man she thought was called John and grabbed a handful of beers before they even approached the bar, although not before she cranked the music back up to a quiet roar. One of them, a young punk that tried to look mean with his ripped leather jacket to show off his cybernetic arm, gave Ardur a stare down as he and his friends flocked around Calypso. She talked to them for a minute or two before they slunk off to one of the pool tables.
She had hardly settled back next to her drink and her new friend when two more toughs entered the bar and flagged her down. With an apologetic smile, she went over and took their order, all the while growing slightly more and more peeved that the only business she got came at the last few minutes of her shift. She could smell her replacement before she saw him, a big, burly fellow with a bushy beard named Johann who was always heavily perfumed with the stench of weed. He lumbered off to the bathroom, where he'd probably toke one final time before taking over, but it was close enough that she could bounce. She approached "John" one more time, pocketing the dough he had left on the counter, and leaned forward so that she could be heard over the music.
"Let me give you a tip since you were excellent company," she said. "I told that kid you're cool, but he's always itching for a fight and he's just dumb enough to do it. The smartest thing for you to do would be to finish your drink, pretend your going to the bathroom, and slip out of the back. But if you really wanna find this boy of yours, ask that girl with the pink hair he came in with. Her name's Amaretto, and she has a thing for put together older dudes. No offense," she added, quickly. "Make her think that you're interested in her, and she'll keep those guys on a leash."
Calypso stood up straight and, with a smile, said, "Come see me again if you're ever in the neighborhood, okay? Good luck."
Then she turned away and left Ardur alone in the pit of vipers as she headed through the exit, concerned for his well-being up until the moment she unlocked her phone and resumed her dig through the ever growing list of dirty jobs.
