Spirits of the Night (Tarsus)

[Vespa]

Good ol' Alice nestled gently across her back. Yet again the old gal performed perfectly to a job well done. Vladma too had done excellent as usual and as a reward tonight would be a night of reward. For Vladma that usually meant leaving Dimitri to his chaotic devices and going out on the town for the hardest liquor she could find. There was a few places you could find alcohol laden beverages but the best place to find a beverage you could use as antiseptic during surgery was Angelo's. She strolled down the street with a chipper bounce towards the oasis in the concrete desert. Little would you know, nestled far below in the city itself, is a dead man with a bullet cleanly nestled in his brain. A significant part of her training was to not make a scene.

And there it was, the gleaming bright beacon in the night guiding all alcoholic ruffians into it's bosom like the mother most wished they could forget and others wished they had. The tune bellowing in her head escaped from her as she sung out the last line. It was an old one, something no one here would know. Her father taught it to her as a child and they'd sing it together on the walk home after a successful hunt. Grinning she approached the door as eyes of all kinds watched cautiously. She'd been here before, a good many times in fact, but she almost never made it into the building with a Semi-Automatic Long Range Sniper Rifle strapped to her back. She cheer of her face fell off her face like a ton of bricks letting a firm, highly threatening glare deter those that would dare attempt to part her from her beloved Alice. She made it through the door this time without much else and made her way to the corner seat at the bar, her post murder mecca.

She lifted the strap of her rifle over her head and placed it between her legs as she sat on the stool. Even the bartender gave her a wary look but conceded Vladma's order for a Vodka straight up. The glass was small but the drink had more kick than any beer. Nestling comfortable at her post for the evening she picked up the glass and took a good sip. Her lips puckered a bit as she set the glass down and she let out an airy groan. Oh that burn, how she missed the burn. The two would get to know each other well tonight, the evening was still young.

[Raron]

Tarsus had decided to treat himself to a night on the town. He had been reunited with an old friend, meet new... allies... well potential allies. He really did not know how to classify Adeline and Rook. They seemed nice enough but knew they were also as dangerous as himself. Maybe Adeline was not as dangerous in a stright up fight as he himself but with her people she was a legit threat to anything she wanted to be... except possible what she wanted most to be a threat to. He figured she would live as long as the council was amused by her. Then they would roll over her people like a steamroller. He hoped she would be able to pick up the pieces. As for Rook... he was known as The Killer for a reason. He was deadly with his own skill set.
Sitting in the barstool Tarsus shrugged his massive shoulders. That was neither here nor there. Right now was not the time to think about that. It was time to contemplate his navel... if he had one.... and think about the beer in front of him. He gazed fondly at the pitcher he was using as a mug. Blue Oyster Beer. Good stuff. It went well with the nachos in front of him and he was on his third order of those. It was a good day when he could just simply enjoy a simple meal without some one trying to prove they could best the 'legend'. He shook his head. That was not why he was at the bar for. It was to enjoy himself... speaking of...
He watched the young mountain leopard make her way into her seat and place her rifle between her legs. It was a hefty piece of hardware and quite beautiful. As was the bearer of it. He thought quickly through the ethics of situations like this. Street ethics were important, unlike normal social ethics if you did not follow street ethics you would end up laying in a puddle of your own internal fluids. Thinking it through he settled for a nod to her and then took a sip of his drink. He felt it trickle down his throat and slosh into his stomach. He smacked his lips and then turned back to the sniper next to him.
"Mind if I smoke ma'am?"

[Vespa]

If yew knew the woman you'd think it nearly impossible for the set of eyes on this one to miss the overly massive ankyosaurus but staring for three days can do that to someone's concentration. It wasn't till he spoke that her eyes slanted towards the beast and eyed him over. Her face contorted into disgust-- not because of the way he looked or the massive mound of food and beer before the dinosaur but at the question. The thought of damaging particles in the air infecting the sheened metal of poor defenseless Alice could very well enrage the feline. But she was in public and some things are out of your control, it wouldn't be polite to demand every soul in the bar to stop smoking for the sake of one gun—the thought did amuse her. No, she'd consent to the man his desire and give Alice a thorough rub down when she got back to the Armory.

Shifting in her seat her legs closed in on her rifle, protecting the poor beauty. Her hand absentmindedly stroked the barrel nesting against her lower stomach. The image was phallic and curiously dangerous, aiming a rife in that direction, but Vladma made sure to set the safety immediately after a kill and she only ever loaded one bullet. Feeling Alice in a much safer position and somehow protected from the vile air the dinosaur would soon emit she gave a nod. “If you must.” Those three poor little words did a contortionist act as they fell off her tongue. That last vowel clinging to her mouth; the sentence was simple but the pronunciation unmistakably foreign. She waved a hand in his direction supposedly directing him to blow the smoke away from her but the likelihood of someone comprehending the direction is slim to none.

Her other hand dipped to the bar top and lifted the glass to her lips for a large swig of the beverage. She tried to recover her cheer and glanced at the pile of consumables and smiled. She'd have wondered where it all went but the man was large, it made sense.

[Raron]

Tarsus looked at the furre's look of obvious disgust and the placing of the rifle as she stroked it and shook his head grinning. A chuckle built at the back of his throat, a rumble like distinct thunder in his chest as he pushed the ash tray away and took another sip stilll chuckling.
"Miss, a pretty young lady such as yourself should not lie like that... I mean all you had to say was 'I would rather you not because I don't want smoke clogging my rifle'. Most furre's here are understanding of that sort of thing.."
He hesistated momentarily but seemed to reach a decision. Even if she was with the law she would be with the angel's if she was flaunting gear like that and was unlikely to arrest him. He had already met with one of their archangels and had a civil conversation so he doubted they had a warrent out for his arrest or a price on his head. Nodding in agreement with his own thoughts he smiled showing his teeth. A gesture that would look more friendly if he did not for the mouthful of knife shaped teeth behind his lips that were not standard equipment on an ankyosaur.
"Personally I have never cared for sniper rifles, even ones as nice as that pretty little thing. It has more to do with the shape of my body then anything."
He reached up and tapped the bony ridges on his face.
"Kinda hard to get a scope up close here. Besides, where I lose out there I gain in the close in and personal department."
He wagged his cybernetic tail slowly from side to side. Not fast, just to show the momentum it quickly built. The tail was flesh until halfway down to the tip then it became obviously metal. He did not hide it with fake skin or coverings, it seemed to be almost a point of pride to him.
"I suppose there is a balence for everything."
He nodded and then slapped his forehead. The ring of flesh hitting bone echoed.
"Oh, by the way the name is Tarsus."
He held out his free hand in obvious desire for a handshake while he took another bite of the cheesy dripping nachos.

[Vespa]

A liar? Her ears piqued before her head turned slowly to the behemoth. Those words would have brought a fight she would never have won but he redeemed himself, thoroughly. She hadn't at all expected anyone to understand her position and he figured it out with what she felt were few clues. Chuckling slightly, her face gleamed with a smile befitted with far less hazardous teeth. But then those terrible words flopped into her lap. Taking it as a bit of a personal hit even the compliments on her appearance did him not good. She shuffled herself back into her seat and coddled the glass of inebriation near her lips. But he was right. A face like that was a sin against all that is sniping. Hold on a second. There was something suspicious about this guy, but that was as far as her brain debated the matter. If his name wasn't on the list then he wasn't important to her, not as far as Guild business is concerned.

She watched his tail swish, almost hypnotizing as it moved. She noted the metallic nature but it meant little to her. She had already fallen into a calmed daze. She was fully alert but she'd been awake and staring at a motionless door for days and the ethanol now coursing through her veins began disconnecting whatever concentration circuits were left. Subtly nodding in agreement to his words she sipped more of her drink. She was about to comment as well before he snapped her from the trance of liquor with a slap and made an introduction.

She laughed some before she lent forward and placed her beverage back onto the bar top. She didn't dare release her hand from her rifle, it was more subconscious than anything at the moment. She had nothing to show for her subliminal paranoia except a deep rooted love for an inanimate object. Her now free hand firmly met his for a shake, confident, friendly and feminine. “Ist pleasure forrr me, Tarsus. Can call me Vladma”

[Raron]

His hand encircling hers Tarsus grasped it firmly but gently. He shook once and let go.
"The pleasure is all mine ma'am."
He tapped his left eyeridge in a salute before swinging back towards his drink while keeping a friendly eye one her. It was a nice night, not too cold, not too gloomy, and the warmth of the bar the the beer in his hand plus the nachos in his belly was combining to make him laid back and very relaxed. He wanted to rest his chin on the bar and doze the night away in comfort but knew that would be a bad idea. This was still not the safest place. It would be a good way to wake up stabbed to death and that did not sound like a good time had by all... especally him. He raised his eye to the screen over the bar to see what kind of game was playing on it... some sport with hoverboards. He never cared for them. He was... not built to fly gracefully. The one time he had tried it he had slammed into a building at top speed, broke fives ribs. He swore never to ride again after that incident.
He edged his eye back to the interesting sniper and glanced down at the barrel. It really was a good gun. It was no showing off weapon, no display piece. It was a well cared for weapon that had been used on many occasions.
He shifted slightly in his seat as his eyes roamed back up to her face. She was hitting the drinks pretty hard and the old knight in shining armor instinct poked at the back of his head. Mentally he sighed and nodded. It was what was needed to be said.
"Um miss, I don't mean to butt my head into where it don't belong but you DO have ride right?"
He didn't want to see her driving or walking around in the condition she seemed intent on causing herself.

[Vespa]

Releasing her hand and letting it slide to her side Vladma found herself in much the same position. The past few days and the hours of sleep she skipped out on were catching up. Tarsus posed his question just as she finished off the last of the remaining liquid in her glass. Internally she grunted a little as she set the cup back onto the bar top and contemplated the question. She could easily call the armory and ask Dimitri for a pickup. But knowing him he'd take a few swigs before she could stop him and that would end poorly. Odds were though, that he wouldn't dare leave his little darlings and just send a lackey to pick her up and knowing the armory she'd just as well stay at the bar. She could also call for a pickup from central but those schmucks are too busy running around like chickens with their heads chopped off to bother sending out a ride for one little inebriated sniper. While the options did come to mind she never bothered with any of them.

Most nights she walked herself home, able to handle her alcohol at least well enough to manage that. Taking the train and doing her best to avoid the back streets. But she could tell that probably wouldn't be okay with this man she just met. He'd want to escort her home or some such and it being that she lived at the angel base and he seemed a slightly suspicious man it might not be best. Agh! Why'd he have to ask! The inebriated cells grew weary of the work it required to plan these things. She'd much rather not bother with them and go where the whim brought her.

And a whim she had. Something spoke to her, something looming and foreboding. She turned towards the door to the bar and caught the shape of a young man. She sniffed the air lightly. Something told her this youth meant trouble; her rifle was about to be contended. His cocky gate brought him right next to the, unfortunately for him, slightly grumpy leopard. His lips spread to say something she just knew was slanderous and uncalled for and without a moments notice her fist flew smack into the wolf's face. Stunned, the wolf's neck snapped back as he stumbled to catch himself. His nose was bleeding and most likely broken.

She hadn't paused even a moment before she requested a refill of her vodka, leaving the battered new comer to lick his wounds among his friends far, far across the bar. Whether he intended to try her skill and temperament regarding her inauspicious weapon, or even a flirtatious try at getting her in bed it didn't quite matter any more.

The tender gave her a look of dissatisfaction as he refilled the glass and she knew what it meant. Mumbling below her breath some foreign slander she took a swig and lent over to the ankyosaur. “I vill be fine forr tonight do not vorrie.” It was almost certain the fist to the face was a surprising event and she didn't much care how Tarsus took it. She still regarded him as a friend, or at least a potential one and waved to his overly sized beer. “You vaste monie on drink like dat. Is like piss forr man like you.”

[Raron]

The massive furre looked at the cowering furre with his friends. He could read his mind. He was most likely thinking of revenge. He caught the furre's attention with a wink and a smile. He went pale as he looked at Tarsus with full knowledge of where he was. A calm shake of the head was all the message he needed from the ankyosaurian to know the leopard next to him was not permissiable was a target. Tarsus grinned at the good deed. Now the furre across the room would live to see another day rather then get his throat ripped out by the leopard next to him.
He lifted the beer for another sip.
“You vaste monie on drink like dat. Is like piss forr man like you.”
He swallowed.
"Mmmh?... Ahhh yes. I don't get drunk off this stuff. You are right. But I like the taste and it helps get me mellow rather then unconcious. Just enough to calm without sending me night night. Besides if I want something to blow my braincells to kingdom come..."
He reached into his coat and rooted through the pockets, briefly exposing the shotgun pistol on his right hip. He finally found what he was looking for as he took out a hip flask and a couple of unfolding cups.
He unfolded the cups and twirled open the lid pouring a small bit in each.
"A friend of mine in east lucent makes this stuff privately. It is called 'Goodnight moon'. Take sips, not chugs."
He pointed the hip flask at her showing her a label that had been stuck on.
It was a warning label.

WARNING: Goodnight moon can cause you to get drunk, get religion, get dead, or cause you to see the world in theoritical mathmatic shapes. Do not drink if you are with child, egg, or larva. Do not take if you are thinking about becoming with child, egg, or larva. Do not drink around open flame.

"It's not the smoothest drink but it gets the job done."

[Vespa]

Her glass again rested on the bar top. Legs coiled around the rifle like serpents as her other hand shifted it and then finally let go of the thing. Tarsus brought up something possibly stronger then her current find and she always tried new things so this was a must. Though, there was a chance of it being a setup for a date rape without the date; she didn't even think of it. Her eyes caught sight of the weapon and she cracked a smile. It wasn't uncommon for Lucentians to be found carrying. But it was such an obvious yet seemingly pointless thing for this man to do. She knew he must have been into some shady business. But the size and the choppers of the man made him out to be a pretty tough match even without any real weapons.

He pulled out the good stuff and she was enthralled. She watched him pour and did her best to read the label he thrust in her face. She couldn't read the whole of it because after the first sentence a laugh wafted from her chest. Recuperating she carefully took one of the cups he offered and hung it gently under her nose. “It sound like good drink.” She sniffed the contents of the glass and her face scrunched momentarily. It had the stench. “ Privet.” She raised the little cup to him an tentatively tipped it to her lips letting it all in her mouth. She held onto it for a bit before the burn set in. She quickly gulped it down, wrinkling her face into a mess. Her lips finally opened with a little squeal before she started out right laughing.

[Raron]

Tarsus's grin continued as he took a sip of his own cup. He let the strange flavors sit on his tongue for a while before he let it trickle drop by drop down his throat. It wasn't the smoothest. And would not win any taste tests for approaval by the masses. But it worked at what it did. He looked at the smiling face of the furre next to him and nodded in approval. She had not gulped it down, she had taken his warning and sipped. She had even sniffed it carefully before. He knew plenty of furre's that would have ignored his warning... and with the way her sentance structure was right now he might have had to induce vomiting in a complete stranger to save her from alcohol poisoning. It was not fun for anyone involved. But since that was avoided he relaxed a bit.
As he smiled a song began to play over the jukebox. It was an old one. He remembered it as a child and it just seemed to get truer.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=d09eNZK3v2M )
He pointedly turned his back to the machine and turned more to face the furre who had become his temporary drinking partner. He was glad to have someone to drink with. Drinking by yourself got old after a while. You began to spiral inwards. He did not enjoy that. Instead he wanted to know more about this odd sniper. He pointed to the rifle with one claw.
"Professional rig you got. That is no show off weapon. No shiny parts, good muffler... great actually. Well taken care of as well. Good. I can not abide anyone that just using a gun to posture."
He shook his head.
"Most furres these days seem to think a gun is a toy, something to pose with to look cool. They don't understand that the only time you should draw a gun is when you are ready to kill and ready to die. One a gun is drawn you can not raise the stakes and you cannot back step easily. It is a point of no return."
He pointed at her.
"You get it. No one who takes care of a weapon to that degree would fail to understand that. Good for you. Common sense... Heh... Common sense is so rare nowadays it is a Gates condemned superpower."

[Vespa]

A morph into giggles and Vladma calmed herself with a throat clearing cough. Her grin had not dissipated as she patted her chest. As small a swig as it was it had a little too much kick for the little tyke. Responsible drinkers always know the limit and that stuff would send her barrel rolling over the edge with little more than that.

Oh the delight that had found her tonight. Good alcohol, new adventures, and a companion that knows a thing or two about a thing or two; she was in heaven. Passing hand over hand the rifle snaked it's way from the floor, not even a light ding against a stool paused the fluid motion of it's travel, and nestled across her lap. Her hands floated over it gently in a worshipful awe like it was some godly creature. As unthinkable as it was to offer him a hands on tour, settling for a little peep show would be okay with her. He gave a wonderful speech with so much right, and yet one thing wrong. A chuckle left her lips “Yes common sense forr to take carre off gun. But common sense also say should never have pick up gun in firrrst place. ” She winked to him as her tail spun round behind her. Genuinely, if asked, she would say this was having a good time. “Is vhy I not so smarrt. I pick up gun and now vurk only by use gun. But she ist beautiful ..so so beautiful мой милый.” Again she was stroking the rifle, inching it closer to herself to coddle the small creature. He had lost her in her moment. A trait shared by Dimitri and herself but only rarely did she partake in the habitual ritual. Inebriation may have been creeping up on her creating an inability to control herself but the incident was no real indication of the level of intoxication.

[Raron]

Tarsus nodded while increasingly becoming worried that his new drinking buddy wasn't gonna be awake much longer.
"Truth be told I seldom have to resort to bullets but when the other guy does well... Let's face it I was not built for back-flips or dodging bullets. I need something I can carry that will render the other guy a nice pleasant shade of 'sit down and shut up'. For that I keep a couple of these."
He reached into his trench coat and pulled out on of the twin pistol shotguns he carried. He placed it on the bar with the barrel pointed away from Vladma as a polite gesture.
"A junk mistress I know made these for me. Eight chambers, revolver loading mechanism and sturdy enough I could use them to club a rhino to death and still fire without a hiccup in the mechanism."
The guns were a dull black, no decoration, no fanciness. It was a weapon and nothing more. It was obviously well maintained and used from time to time.
"She calls them 'The Broomsticks' because there is little better for cleaning a room clean."
He smirked at the joke. She could get quite silly at times.
"If you ever need something custom made for you I suggest you look for a girl named Boots. I have yet to find her better when it comes to making custom better... well... anyone better that a non-angel has assess to. I hear stories about some secret genius they have."
He leaned over and whispered.
"I heard that he invented the double safety mechanism and they keep him in the base under lock and key because the council does not want his brain falling into the wrong hands."
He sat back and then tapped the underside of his chin.
"I also hear he just doesn't like the outdoors and refuses to leave the armory because that is where all the cool stuff is."

[Vespa]

The gleam of curiosity slid across her eyes as he put the hefty beasts upon the table. The curious fingers wiggled out and slowly lurched toward the fascinating sculpture. Fare be it to expect her to ask for permission, she did look to the dinosaur and saw little to no complaint. Expectedly unexpectedly large as it was one paw just wasn't quite enough to lure the delicious metal closer. Another hand came to the aide and grasped at the large grip indubitably designed for a much larger palm. Managing to maneuver the thing into her lap with the help of her own rifle laid across her lap she aimed the behemoth of a weapon between her legs as she eyed down the barrel. Eyes rolled over the black ins and outs noting whatever detail it found. Vladma isn't usually avid about the smaller projectile weapons but when the name of an outside customer zinged to her ears the curiosity was slightly more then just a visual fancy.

She'd have figured the danged thing out, it's breaks, ammo size and whatever else you could tell about a gun without actually firing it or taking it apart but the words she was listening to became increasingly amusing. Carefully she heaved the weapon back to the bar top nearly in it's original position. She giggles were coming and dropping what seemed to be a loaded weapon when entirely not the right size to handle it is always, always a bad bad idea. The name was entertaining enough without his lead to Dimitri. Her head had already traveled that road when he dared suggest someone else to handle her guns. His description teetered eerily closer to the strange half beast. Almost surprised he even knew about him her ears turned to him with interest as he rattled on about Dimitri's infamous antics and she slid her rifle back between her legs vertically. The grin slimmed into a sly smirk. He probably knew, or maybe he didn't. She followed his lead and lent forward to peep in on his whisper. She twittered to herself knowing precisely what the Ankyosaur only knew rumors about.

But the outdoors. Hah! The outdoors were the really entertaining part. Why that would be a significant rumor there was no way of telling. Laughter bellowed from her chest and paused just long enough for a few words to slip out. “Genius da? Hah, if really not like vetha den I doubt need forrr lock an key.” Leaning towards Tarsus with an arm slung casually over the bar's edge she potentially set off another strange rumor. “I hearr he is small man. Only has big guns make up forr...” Gesturing to Tarsus, first with finger and thumb and then a flat hand, varying interpretations for the word small and then nudging the large dino with an elbow as she winked towards him quite clearly. Lacking subtlety in her hints towards a less endowed Armory chief she continued tittering to herself.

[Raron]

Tarsus watched calmly as the woman handled one of his tools of the trade. She handled it well despite it's weight and the difference between their hand sizes. Very well. Watching her handle the gun made certain parts of him signal their recent neglect and offer if she could handle a gun that well maybe she could handle other parts as... the thought was turned aside. Other times he would be willing to pursue this but not with her this drunk. He had standards after all. When she got to mentioning size it took him a second and then he frowned shaking his head.
"Why is that everyone talks about weapons in terms of the obvious size of the parts of the wielder. I mean that has nothing to do with the size of a furre's barrel and chamber. Look at me. I use these things..."
He picked up and holstered the 'Broomsticks'.
"Because they are effective and fit my hands well. I mean imagine me holding a derringer... they sit in my hands like hairpins."
He held up one of his mitts for comparison. It was a little bit knarled from years of hard use. Thick fingers and hardened tips.
"Can you imagine me performing surgery anytime soon with these things? I know I can't. On the plus side because of bone structure I do not have to worry about arthritis."
He waggled his fingers one by one at her. Not a hint of pain or stuttering of movement.
"So..."
He indicated her.
"Is it all right if I ask the cliche question? What is a nice girl like you doing in a run down dump like this."
The bartender frowned at him and he replyed by grinning.

[Vespa]

The titters died down and she settled back into her seat. Her behavior wasn't entirely because she was drunk but the alcohol wasn't helping. That little swig of something special was doing wonders to the chipper young lady's usual route to inebriation. He was right. At least about the size of a gun for the size of a person, not their genitalia. But Vladma had some superstitions. For her that myth is more of a gauge then a true measurement. Those that react negatively are probably just the people it talks of. Those that think it's absolutely true probably are not and are poorly endowed. But nothing's one hundred percent. No, the only way to know the size of a man's genitalia is, hands on. Unbeknownst to either of them he wasn't the only one getting caught in the snare of fornication. Her eyes gave him another once over, maybe he'd be worth it. Maybe not. If it weren't for the high level of ethanol coursing through her veins she wouldn't have this bout of ADD. She already got bored of the idea and didn't bother perusing it. Not that she wouldn't any other day.

It was bound to happen. The question of all questions. It was one of the three she came to expect. She almost never had a night on the town without hearing at least one of the three. She probably bypassed the 'will you come home with me' when she punched the poor kid in the face back there. And this guy didn't seem like he'd be asking it. No telling for sure yet. Her head bobbed absentmindedly as the breaking synapses searched for an adequate response. It was almost comical to think while her hand was reaching for another drink. It probably shouldn't have taken her mind so long but eventually she got an almost obvious answer. “IS only place forr strong drink.” It was the usual vodka she was reaching for but simply glancing to the dinosaur while she talked was enough 'not paying attention' for the little leopard to miss aim and grab for the little cup of way-too-strong spirits he left for her.

The potent little glass wafted to her lips and thankfully, just a normal vodka sip was taken. She was way too sleepy for the first one and now it was all going down hill. Down went the glass and for a moment she was still. Her eyes closed for a sleepy stupor. Poor Vladma remained ignorant of what she had just done to herself.