16069/INTERLUDE: I really don't like you, you know

INTERLUDE: I really don't like you, you know
Date of Scene:	20 February 2024
Location:	A pub - Somewhere in the Bronx, NYC
Synopsis:	A bar in the bronx, a couple of latino punks and a murderous hooligan tossed into a dumpster in pieces. Oh and a splended hissing match between two old codgers. Splendid... carry on!
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Phantasm (Drago)

---

Sinister has posed:
It is NOT a pleasant evening outside. NYC in February is picking up one of those tail-ends of a norwesterly and it's driving ice-wind and a good deal of frozen rain. Given there's been several days of rather mild weather previously, it's put the people in a mind to chase away the cold in all manner of ways.

And in pubs, that's usually by having more drinks than they ought. The bronx isn't the safest of neighbourhoods -- much better now than in the 80's, but there's still gang violence, people still take a .22 in the barrio and if you survive growing up there, you become something of the quintessential tough New Yorker.

This LOOKS as if it was a calmish night in this hole in the wall, where the liquor is only served by the bottle or the can, not by the tap. Some are playing pool, some just watching the game at the bar.

Nathaniel looks like, a mean, lean, latino version of himself and is apparently in here... for what reason? Who knows, but he's currently by the juke box, arms folded, having some kind of staring match with a couple of other young looking individuals. Several empty beers sit on a table nearby.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Indeed it seems like a calm night. With no one coming to harass Sinestro.

...Oh that name's taken?

Well shit.

Ahem. With on one coming to harass Sinister. People are keeping to themselves, the bartender's tending to the counter and the door swings open.

And then comes a familiar presence.

"Leo!" The bartender greets, breaking out of character before he starts drifting off to greetings of a different sort.

Fortunately it's not Gaelic.

The dressed down man smiles from underneath the ballcap, hair a bit mussed up compared to the last evening but at least he looks like he's dressed warm. Stepping inside, he walks over towards the bar quickly. His proximity drawing the volume of the bartender's greetings down.

<< "Hector, good to see you." >>
<< "It's been ages! Grandpa's been wondering when you'd come back." >>
<< "You know how work can be. How's he doing?" >>

Sinister has posed:
The staring match briefly sublimes as the two latinos Sin was silently eyeballing turn as his eyes do, to check who just walked in. If there's surprise on 'Sinestre's' it's very carefully hidden -- not even a browspock or widening of gaze to be found. Conversation resumes in silence, cut off with a jerk of the chin toward the back and a mild frown as he looks that way, alerted to ... something.

The greeting at the bar, the chatter between old aquaintences and cohorts is picked up on mostly by ambient comprehension of the locals, though it does trigger memories and thoughts about previous conversations, deep in the mind of Sin.

The two young punks slip toward the john, the younger of the two with a scar on his cheek and a rather dashing -attempt- at a little handlebar moustache, swipes the back of his hand under his nose as he goes.

Meanwhile, the Englishman in a different skin casts a look across his shoulders and heads to the bar, hopping up on the end stool and setting a shotglass he'd drunk from atop it, to signal a refill. Tequila, no doubt.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
<< "Ah getting old. Which you don't seem to be. What are you drinking over there? I need to stock up on that shit." >>

<< "Sorry Hector. It's just all in the genes. There's nothing to bottle." >>

<< Just my luck. What can I get you?" >>

<<"You know me.">>

<<"I do! Be right back.>>

In an odd turn, the bartender moves from the bar and makes his way to the back. Leaving Leo sitting at the bar and Sinistre without a refill. For now.

Leo watches over the bar, glimpsing the approaching figure via the mirror. "...He'll be back soon." He states to the newcomer.

Sinister has posed:
The old Irish has been doing this a bit longer, but ....

There was a reason for studying psychology and getting yet another doctorate in it. And psychiatry. And innumerate other scientific fields. Bit sketchy on the demonology, but a keen study.

There's a nod from the Spanish Sin. He looks over his shoulder again, various little mannerisms every bit the wary street punk keeping ten eyes on everything about him and a pair in the back of his head. Cock-sure, but subliminally expecting trouble. People watching is a hobby that became a reason, once upon a time.

He nods to the words offered, puts a cocktail stick between his teeth and 'appears' to watch the corridor to the john.

Maybe he's also waiting to drop the pretense after he knows 'the usual', who knows?

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The bartender doesn't take long coming back. Trust only goes so far, even when it's Leo. In his hands is a silk bag. Which ends up being set down towards a back shelf when he sees Sinister at the bar.

"Another?" He asks, looking to the empty glass.

Leo doesn't say anything about the delay in the item being delivered. Instead he simply looks over to Sinister via the reflection. << "On second thought, I'm feeling like having something local tonight." >>

The bartender blinks, looking over to Leo before giving a nod. Moving over to the glasses, he selects one and instead makes his way over to the tap.

Sinister has posed:
"Well, at least good old fashioned paranoia remains alive and kicking," Sin says the words quietly, watching where the silk bag got set, but nodding to the barman. "Uno mas," but then of a sudden he's up and off the stool, moving like greased lightning. That probably isn't going to be something that fills ANYONE with much confidence and is liable to get guns drawn. This IS the Bronx, after all...

But the mad dash isn't toward anyone in the bar, it's the corridor to the john then there's a crash of the fire door at the back clanging open noisily against the wall with a crack against the brick.

And then the sound of an entire garbage skip ricochetting off of several others, in the back alley.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As Sinister gets up and zooms off quickly. Leo turns his head to watch him disappear down the bathroom corridor. He turns to look over to the surprised bartender, tilting his head and giving a lift of the brow.

Exchange given, the bartender moves back to the bag, taking it up and moving it elsewhere.

As the bartender does this, Leo brings a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

And yet he does not feel compelled to investigate the sound going on outside.

<< " Is Carlos up for visitors? " >>

<< "Maybe tomorrow. It's past his bedtime." >>

<< "Ah. Understood." >>

Sinister has posed:
Maybe a minute more of some violent sounding confrontation occurs outside in the back alley. Then, all is quiet again, except for the slight thunk of several garbage skips going back to where they'd been before all of that.

Sinister returns, looking slightly dirtied, but uninjured. There's brick mortar on his leather jacket, a splatter or two of winter puddle residue on his pants and boots.

He returns to the barstool and shortly after, the two young punks come back in also. They nod to Hector and one of them settles a cameo locket on the bar top with a sniff and a pretense that it did not get set there.

Like as not, the barkeep likely knows a murder or two and robberies were done here not that long ago, one of the victims being one of the foster mothers, another an outreach worker. The locket belonged to the foster mother. They say nothing as they leave.

Sin watches them go, then looks to the shot glass.

"So how long are you planning on being in the big apple, anyhow?" It's not gruff, or terse, but there's no peramble.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
There's a long pause as both the bartender and Leo stare at the locket. After a long pause, Leo looks over to Hector.

Hector takes a bit longer before he snaps out of it, going over to retrieve the tequilla bottle to give Sinister his refill.

Sinister's question gets a sigh. "Until my business is concluded." He replies back. The man's eyes fix on Sinister through the mirror reflection, "And my concerns are properly addressed."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's fingers close around the shot glass juuuuuuuuust so, as the refill is given. There's a nod, then he notices a little of the mortar on his sleeves and backhand brushes it off. He looks straight ahead, hunched of shoulder and attention apparently vigorously on a salt shaker.

"Garbage collection will be coming later," Sin says simply, then glances penetratingly at Leo's reflection, meeting eye for eye, then back to the salt shaker.

"You know, there are times when I completely understand where Luci is coming from. Other times, he leaves me wanting to stare at him discombobulated. I really don't much like you, you know. In fact, I suspect that I could qualify my feelings further, in that I don't trust you in the slightest. Not one inch further than I absolutely have to. But, I'll never piss on Nick's shoes. Call it... first impressions have a lasting impact and I don't appreciate veiled threats."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Drink served, the bartender's hand sets upon the locket. Fingertips closing around it, he looks to it with a frown before making his way to the back. Seemingly not caring about the bar at the moment.

When Hector leaves, Leo cracks a slight smile. "Threat?...If I wanted to threaten you. I would have made sure to do it in your own language. What I say in my language is soley for me. If you get easily offended by what you overhear, don't eavesdrop."

Hands set upon the draft that was set before him. "And, considering what you were up to before, suffice to say, I don't like you either. So we have that in common. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let whatever bias you have towards me cause you to lead my nephew in the wrong direction."

Leo lifts up his drink, sipping it before setting it down with a somewhat unsatisfied look.

Sinister has posed:
"I didn't eavesdrop. You said it in plain earshot, right in front of me with a look that could kill..." Sinister observes, lifting the tequila and giving a mildly defiant chin-lift in challenge of that. Because he had done. Because he did. Sure, it was in gaelic, but did HE know Sin couldn't speak the language? Nope.

The latter statement gets itself a black smile, then a snort for the closer. "Because you've been doing an absolutely sterling job of giving him -any- kind of help at all. There has to be a direction to mislead someone in the first place. But you're probably over-thinking that. So far, I've taught him how to really play havoc with a telepath, enjoy his own headspace a bit and have given him inspiration it seems. He's also my nephew, by relationship."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Drink ignored for now, Leo sets his arms on the bar, crossing them. His head tilts down, hiding his face from the mirror. A possible retreat? Could Sinister be the victor?

"Deep down, you know that's untrue." Leo responds, "...Do you honestly believe if I hadn't stepped in when I did that he'd still be here for you to teach?"

Sinister has posed:
"Precognition is a very wishy washy discipline and it's prone to getting completely the wrong end of things. Often the shitty end." A pause, a pointed look and he shoots back his tequila.

"Deep down, I know that 'stepping in' then not stepping -up- is tantamount to abandonment. I've been many things in my time, most of them ghastly... but if I mentor, I don't do it from several statelines or a continental land mass away. And I'm sure you have a reason and to you, it's probably a good one, but he's dealing with a double dose of capability and until I gave him any guidance at all, was doing -all- of it blind. Actually?" Sin laughs unexpectedly a little bark of black humour.

"It's rather Darwinian of you, overall. I -should- applaud." But by the tone, he very much isn't going to.

There's a moment of silence, two, three. Then:

"I've heard his story from his lips, by the by. He was stumbling around blind, for the longest time."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"I somehow doubt he gave you the full story." Leo comments, "How long we talked. What was going on in his mind back then." He pauses, "He didn't need a mentor then. He needed to go back to his friend. He needed to have a chance at having an actual life. That stumbling. That led him home. And it bought him time."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister doesn't look very convinced of this... and hispanic youth can give the black penetrating regard -really- well. He punctuates the gaze with a headcock. The shot glass is turned over then, set on one of the napkin coasters of the bar and he slides from the bar stool.

A twenty is set, tucked under the edge of the napkin, neatly folded in half.

Sin then makes toward the door in the stalking manner of a tiger, pausing at the door to look back. "Time to step up then, or deal with the fact I'm probably still going to try and help him. Your choice, Leo." And that said, he heads out with a wave in the air, not looking back.