Ezra Sagishi (
smilestopscars) wrote2017-02-14 07:38 pm
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The Inferno, Boston, Tuesday Evening
The bold neon-red sign saying INFERNO was blazing on the side of the building. It was the middle of the week, add yet there was still something of a line outside. Not around the building, like on the weekend, but there was still a brief wait until hopefuls (many of them couples on Valentine's Day dates) got to join the crowd inside, taking cover from the crisp chill of the weather outside.
Well, crowds, plural. The Inferno operated on three levels, with VIP-only Heaven upstairs and Hell down below, and the open-to-all restaurant/bar combo Purgatory on the ground floor.
As Ava had once put it, Purgatory was high-end without being snooty. There was a maître d' at the door, ready to seat people at tables (or at the bar, as they case might have been), but you could still waltz in with sneakers and a hoodie on. There was a nice, dimly-lit atmosphere, and candles on tables all over. Many of them were red or pink tonight, to mark the occasion
And behind the bar – smallest of the many at the Inferno – in his black shirt with Purgatory printed in surprisingly tasteful fashion on the back, was Ezra, serving up drinks, alongside one of his collegues. Wasn't really a one-person job tonight. Pretty busy.
And Ezra loved it. What was a better way of keeping himself distracted than by slinging drinks and flirting shamelessly at everyone who came up for drinks? Hey, maybe he'd come across a couple who'd want him to join in on their celebration of love!
A fox could hope.
[ooc: NFB, and for she who knows who she is!]
Well, crowds, plural. The Inferno operated on three levels, with VIP-only Heaven upstairs and Hell down below, and the open-to-all restaurant/bar combo Purgatory on the ground floor.
As Ava had once put it, Purgatory was high-end without being snooty. There was a maître d' at the door, ready to seat people at tables (or at the bar, as they case might have been), but you could still waltz in with sneakers and a hoodie on. There was a nice, dimly-lit atmosphere, and candles on tables all over. Many of them were red or pink tonight, to mark the occasion
And behind the bar – smallest of the many at the Inferno – in his black shirt with Purgatory printed in surprisingly tasteful fashion on the back, was Ezra, serving up drinks, alongside one of his collegues. Wasn't really a one-person job tonight. Pretty busy.
And Ezra loved it. What was a better way of keeping himself distracted than by slinging drinks and flirting shamelessly at everyone who came up for drinks? Hey, maybe he'd come across a couple who'd want him to join in on their celebration of love!
A fox could hope.
[ooc: NFB, and for she who knows who she is!]
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"I can handle it," she told the bartender, but wasn't going to argue if he refused. "Make it four?"
If it were three, it would be real easy to end up drinking to the memory of her mom, dad, and Sarah. And, dammit, she was here to forget all that.
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Then he nodded. "Okay. Four."
He wasn't as personable as Ezra – who managed to flirt with the waiter who'd come to pick up the order he was fillig – but he could be nice, so he got four shot glasses out along with a bottle of tequila, and began to fill the former from the latter.
Didn't take a professional long at all before he was done, and they were all in a neat row in front of her.
"Four shots."
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"Much obliged," Kathy said, picking up the first one. She contemplated it for a long moment, focus inward, and then shook her head and immediately knocked it back. The other three followed in quick succession, leaving her blinking a bit in her chair as the alcohol hit. "I think I'd like the rest with salt and lime, please," she said, welcoming the pleasant burn in her throat.
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It took until the third for him to process and believe what he was seeing.
He spent the fourth frozen in place.
Then, once they were done, and she'd made her request, he spoke. "I think I'll handle this one, Jesse." His voice, as well as his movement over to this part of the bar, was smooth. Far smoother than it had any right to be when there was a tremble of tension in his hand. It didn't show, but he could feel it.
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"Ezra?"
Oh fuck.
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It was okay. He had one hand on the edge of the bar, too.
"Hey, Kathy."
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"I--yeah," she said, definitely planning to go for the full nine shots now. "Hi."
Clever, Kathy. Well-played. "This wasn't planned," she blurted. "I didn't know this was your bar." Otherwise, she would have gone literally anywhere else. "Jesus fuck you must have so many questions."
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In fact, maybe it was less that he was calm and more that he felt like he was ever so slightly outside himself, observing the situation. So maybe it was a panic thing. "Dante told me you were back."
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And doing spectacularly, which was why she was in a random bar hundreds of miles away drinking tequila like it was her job.
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He couldn't help being a little... succinct, with his words. Because this was insane.
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It wasn't that she'd been doing better, it was just that she'd been better at willfully ignoring everything that was wrong and had finally run out of bullshit to hide behind. And that coping mechanism having failed, she'd moved on to the next.
Which was more self-destructive? WHO COULD SAY? Wheee!
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Suddenly, Ezra's awareness of their surroundings kicked back in. The thing he'd been about to say? Was not a thing he should be saying here. Not in front of regular patrons or Coterie staff. He looked over at the other bartender. "Jesse, my little crabcake, I'm going to need to take five."
It was going to be longer than five and they both knew it. Oh well. Jesse resigned to a nod, anyway.
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"I don't want to interfere with your night..." Kathy protested, but she was already sliding off her stool to follow him. Her first step or two was an unsteady wobble, but seconds later her balance compensated for the amount of alcohol she'd already ingested and her walk smoothed back out to the elegant stride of before.
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As much as he didn't actually want to be anywhere quiet with her. Talking wasn't really his strong suit.
"Come on, I'll find a place."
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Pity. Ezra was well-versed in shutting off Kathy's brain and that's exactly what she'd come here to do. But that had been back when she'd assumed she'd be unknown and anonymous here.
"Probably a good idea," Kathy said, following his lead. "This doesn't strike me as a conversation best had in front of strangers." Whatever kind of conversation 'this' was going to be.
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His priorities were a mess.
He led her out of the restaurant and down through a couple of hallways until they got to a storage space. Shelves lined the walls, filled with cardboard boxes.
"People don't tend to come here too often. This should be fine."
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Oops.
Kathy nodded, taking a seat on a cardboard box filled with napkins, and looked over at him, trying to figure out what to say. Normally, she'd fake a smile and hope some surface enthusiasm would do the trick, but she was emotionally exhausted and didn't have the energy to fake much of anything at all. Besides, she couldn't bullshit a bullshitter; he had way more experience at it than she did.
"Look, I know we didn't exactly part on the best terms..." she said, then trailed off as she realized she had no idea how to finish that.
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"Doesn't matter," he said. "You weren't coming back."
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Seriously, karma, what had she ever done to you?
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He meant the latter. His tone remained even. Yes, even though the whole thing was absurd.
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Because what better way to lose yourself than somewhere you had no attachments to?
"And I wanted to go out and have fun tonight--" Understatement. "--and going to a bar named for the afterlife was just the kind of bitter irony I was in the mood for." She spread her hands. "So here I am."
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Even if he was still subconsciously checking her for signs of necromancy.
"Here you are." It was the one thing they could most certainly agree on. Ezra wasn't necessarily forseeing many other things of that kind. "This wasn't a very good choice for fun, dumpling."
Did the endearment help any when his tone was still so flat and neutral?
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"Because you work here?" she asked, hand falling to play nervously with the silver loops of her decorative hip chain.
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Safer now than when Venus ran the place, but still Coterie.
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