Title: eleven o'clock
Description: for Risk.
Jill - September 1, 2008 03:18 AM (GMT)
It was near eleven o'clock, and Bo was bored.
He had waited in Lily's penthouse suite most of the evening, but there had been a large argument in the coven which had resulted in physical violence, and Lily had been occupied in delivering retribution. He smirked a little to think of his beautiful woman offering cold punishment, the juxtaposition of her beauty set against spilled blood had always seemed so wrong it amused him.
He had left a few hours ago, taking her old German shepherd for a long walk, and when he returned the dog home, Lily was still no there. Frowning now, he locked the door after himself and set off to find his own amusement for the evening.
For a few moments, he had considered visiting Clementine, but he decided against it. He figured she would either be at Colton's, or have the fledgling at her apartment, and Bo really did not feel like putting up with his least favourite person tonight.
Instead, he wandered the bar district. He had a few drinks at The Tequila, but eventually the noise of the place annoyed him and he left. That was how he came to King's Brewery, a place he seldom visited.
He paused inside the door way, adjusting the collar of his battered old leather jacket. Usually he would stand out of the crowd in his expensive clothing, but tonight he had dressed down. His jeans were faded and ripped in places, and the soft grey shirt he wore was unbuttoned to show the white t-shirt underneath.
As he walked towards the bar he lazily scanned the crowd, and finding no one of interest, settled to attract the bartender's attention only.
Risk - September 1, 2008 03:44 AM (GMT)
Cassidy was playing delivery girl tonight. She had no idea what was in the little white, sealed envelope that Brock had given her and she was a little curious. But she wasn't stupid enough to try, say, opening it and finding out what was inside. The teenager pushed open the door to the King's Brewery, glanced around quickly. Her bright green eyes lingered on one of the patrons for a moment, but she moved to the bar, waited for the tende r to head her way.
He opened his mouth, probably to ask for ID or some such thing, but she cut him off. "Brock sent me," she informed him quickly, watched him shut his mouth quickly. He nodded, then reached under the bar and pulled out a glass with his right hand, the one on the side facing the other patrons, and set it on the counter. With his other hand, he set down another envelope, this one fat nad slightly wrinkled. Cassidy put her hand on the bar, trading hers for his in one smooth move and tucking it in her black denim jacket as she picked up the glass he filled and slid down the bar a bit. Beer.
Menial task finished, she gave the man she'd noticed earlier a bit of a more thorough once-over. Took another sip of the beer. Wondered how to get the man's interest, because he was definitely high on the sexy scale. Older than her, but fuck, that was usually her best selling point. Maybe she should wait, let him get nice and drunk. "Nice jacket," she said at last, casually.
Jill - September 1, 2008 04:21 AM (GMT)
As Cassidy entered the bar and took stock of the crowd, Bo waved the bartender over to him. Even without his fancy clothes he still had an important air about him, service people usually did what he said.
"Whiskey, on the rocks. The oldest you've got." He ordered, and settled himself onto a bar stool as his drink was poured.
He was casually sipping from the glass as a teenager came up to the bar beside him and received a beer. He was aware of her presence, but he paid no attention to her until she spoke to him.
He placed his whiskey on the bar top and glanced over at her, looking her over and appraising her the way some men judged racehorses. He found her pretty, but young, with the slightly irritating air of reckless danger that surrounded many teenagers nowadays. He didn't know if it was the schooling they received, or the way their parents coddled them, but he knew if he had been so pointlessly dangerous when he was that age he never would have lived through the politics of Rome.
"Thanks." He said simply, lifting the glass to his lips once more and looking away from her again.
Risk - September 2, 2008 06:24 PM (GMT)
Cassidy frowned a little at the guy's lack of response, but decided to take it as something of a challenge. Why not? She had nothing else to do and he looked, wll, she ran her tongue over her teeth at the thought. There was, she supposed, the danger that he might be gay. Or otherwise.
"Such a jabbermouth," she intoned, going back to her own drink. Then again, people didn't oftten end up at the King's Brewery if they were trolling for anything other than a future hangoever. Cassidy noted that he was drinking whiskey. Hell, maybe she should stick with her original plan and let him get toasted on it first. Got all the irritating bits out of the way, like talkin.
She set her beer down. Truth be told, she wasn't particularly fond of the sharp, somewhat yeasty taste. "Rum and coke," she told the bartender, who lounged against the back counter and looked bored. Cassidy smiled. "And put it on Brock's tab." Horny asshole could afford it.
Jill - September 5, 2008 01:14 AM (GMT)
Bo glanced back over as Cassidy rejected her beer and ordered another drink. He sipped at his whiskey, allowing the aged amber liquid to burn its way slowly down his throat. He watched as the bartender mixed Cassidy's drink.
He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to check the white gold Rolex he wore on his wrist. Eleven nineteen. Stifling a sigh, he tilted his glass to finish his drink, and then placed the empty glass back on the bar.
"Aren't you a little young for rum and coke?" He asked lazily. "Or alcohol in general?"
Might as well occupy himself with a dark-haired girl if his blonde was busy.
Risk - September 5, 2008 06:00 PM (GMT)
Victory.
Well sort of. Cassidy fixed a vaguely curious, politely interested look on her face as the good looking dude next to her finally spoke of his own accord and in multiple syllables. "You'd think, wouldn't you?" she said with what she considered a sly smile and toasted him slightly with her brand nw rum and coke.
She laughed a little though and set the glass back down. "Like they care around here anyway." Cassidy looked pointedly at the bartender, who was pretending to not listen to them talk. Her green eyes narrowed at the guy though. "Why you care anyway?"
Probably should have considered that before, but hell. If he was a cop, she had a very nice, very legitimate looking driver's license that told the world she was a legal nineteen years old. It looked legitimate because it was, for all intents and purposes, perfectly legit. Thanks to Brock and all the sticky, shadowed pies he had his fingers in.
Jill - September 5, 2008 08:45 PM (GMT)
Bo watched her smile, a frown appearing on his own face. She was angling for attention, obviously, but he couldn't quite decide why. The women Bo normally concerned himself with were mature, self-confident creatures; he wasn't used to decoding the peculiarities of teenagers.
"I don't." He replied simply. "I'm just bored."
He leaned back from the bar, running a hand over his buzzed black hair. He caught the bartender's eye and motioned for him to fill up his glass again, and watched carefully as the man poured the amber coloured liquor into his glass. He waved him away once he was finished, out of earshot of himself and Cassidy.
"I'm Bo." He said, when it seemed like he would say nothing more.
