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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"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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But you couldn't always get what you wanted.
"This is a Coterie business, Kathy," he said, shaking his head. "Not only that, this is the Coterie business."
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"Well fuck me," Kathy said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. "Of course it is. Why else would you be working here?"
God dammit.
"Still, why would they look at me twice? I'm nothing special, especially among the powered set." She was a Saturday morning cartoon. "And I doubt I'm the only pretty girl you've escorted into a closet." Probably the only one he just wanted to talk to, though.
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He stepped closer to her.
"Because every person with powers is a potential asset," he said. "And while the whole show has changed hands, I don't think they've gotten any less overenthused about recruiting everyone they think could be of value. And if you think they don't notice you knocking back four shots of tequila and still walking without a wobble?"
He shook his head again.
"Kathy, you are not dumb enough for that."
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"Yeah, well, good luck to them," she snorted, closing her eyes. "My heroing days are done, so I'm going to have to say no thanks to their recruitment deal." She sighed. "And, yes, before you say a damn thing, I already know that anything they want me for isn't likely to be heroic or involve asking."
Even as willfully blind as she was trying to be, she couldn't go that far. Opening one dark eye, she asked, "How'd they get their hooks in you anyway?" The last time she'd asked about the Coterie, he'd seduced her into dropping the topic. That seemed a lot less likely to happen now. "You're way too smooth to let that happen otherwise."
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Which they were doing, so at least it was working.
He wasn't used to being this open about his life, but when there were so many different kinds of pressure happening, something had to give.
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Not that she'd ask. And not that she'd assume he'd answer truthfully even if she did.
"That won't work for me," she said. "I have no family for them to use. Raven saw to that."
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In fact, it was exactly the opposite.
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Okay, that was forceful again. See, Ezra had a lot of feelings about the Coterie, and people getting anywhere near it. In particular, people who seemed to have bounced back from death.
Sorry not sorry about the way he got in her face about it.
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That was a stupid, hurtful thing to say. Even as she said it, she knew it was stupid and hurtful. Hell, if she were actually trying to provoke a reaction out of Ezra, this would be the worst way to go about it. But she was tipsy and hurting and angry and just lashing out.
Funny how it only made her feel worse.
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Ezra rolled his eyes. Bitterly, if that was a thing. "Oh how terrible of me to not want to see anyone else get drawn into this."
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"Fine," she said, pressing her fingertips to her temples. "Just...fine. You can escort me out of here if you want to. Tell people I was trying to pocket bendy straws and paper umbrellas if you want to." She tried to take a step towards the door. "Is that all?"
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Or maybe it was a bad idea.
Either way, he found himself surprised at her skin being warm against his.
"Look," he said. "I'm glad you came back. I am."
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