Owner	Pose
Ares	Word's danced along the grape vine in Bludhaven, and been dispensed to various people in the know. Some guy's been asking around, been hitting some of the local joints whee mercs and operatives spend some of their time when down between gigs. The word's been the same, some big guy, looks like Paul Bunyan if the guy got a mad on. He's been showing around a picture of a furball wolf guy, stating he's probably mutant of some sort or something. Apparently the guy's cheezed off about the guy trying to break into a house or a museum or something? Whatever it is, nobody's sayin' nothin'.     But that hasn't stopped him. Sleep is secondary, time is infinite for a being such as him. Certainly there's part of him that gets annoyed now and again, and he reminisces about the old days when he would have burnt the city down in the pursuit of answers. But things are different now. He's calmer, more in control. Mostly.     It's into Dominic's that he walks, the low music hiding most of the burble of the crowd in the bar. No bouncer stops him, as this isn't quite that type of bar. There isn't that much activity and the crowd that goes there pays respect to the owner. It's a good spot to drink, relax, and wait for a call from a guy looking to hire. So the crowd is fairly thick, all types, some mutants. There's a jukebox playing, a pool table, and a myriad of televisions on the walls all showing the Bludhaven basketball team playing.     John enters with little ado, giving a nod towards the bartender who nods back. He slips between a couple of people, wending his way towards the bar with a steady gait.
Erica Reyes	Erica is thankful that there is no bouncer at the door, it saves time and trouble. Blonde hair is loose in curls over the satiny red v-neck blouse. It's paired with snug black pants and some killer heeled boots that have sparkling spikes decorating the back of the heel. Lipstick and nails are siren red, and her laugh is husky over the flow of music and basketball. She's grinning at a poor guy at the bar, but the grin is edged with just a touch of something not amused or joyful, but not quite mean. "Pay up, pal." She states, before there's a shot of something - from the look of it, vodka, before her hand is patting the poor guy on the back. Brown eyes look over the crowed, something faintly predatory in her expression.
Ares	The tall man's back is to her from afar. He's a good head higher than most other men there, though the way he leans upon the bar makes it not quite as obviouc. Also his build is large, strong hands flat upon the bartop as he leans in to offer a few quiet words to the tender. It's just a low murmur that most at the bar itself can't even hear. But then he produces that wrinkled printed out picture. If people have had their ear to the ground in the area they would have heard about it or him.     He sets the dog-earred image on the bartop and gestures to it. In the image it's limned by the light from some porchlight or the like. There's a furred figure in the edge of the haze, looking grim and angry as it smacks a fist onto a heavy glass sliding door. A few words are shared up there between them. One guy leans over and laughs, shaking his head and shrugs.
Erica Reyes	The blonde does like the ones that stick out a bit.. for whatever reason. Those that don't quite fit the regular mold are the interesting ones, the ones that intrigue her. This one is older than most of the men she would usually talk to, true. His murmur catches her ear though, and for a moment her heartbeat flutters irregularly. She'll set down her shot glass, give her sodden companion a kiss on the cheek as she takes his money from the bet, before she wanders nonchalantly down the bar. She's not shy, she'll just use a nudge and press of a hip to worm her way back to the bar next to the large man. She won't feign disinterest, instead turning her head to actually get a good look at that picture. There's a quiet exhale of relief, as that picture is not anyone on her list that she would need to worry about covering up for. Indeed, she's not sure it's even a werewolf at all. "Well, that's a fine way to treat a door. " She'll comment, looking up from under lashes with a hint of a smile for the much taller man. "He seriously needs to visit a waxing salon. When did this go down?"
Ares	The image is being folded back up and slid into the pocket of his jacket, and that tall man's turned his head to the side slightly. His visage matches the physique. There's a sternness to him, a haggard severity in the brown eyes and stubbly beard. One eyebrow quirks slightly as he gauges her. It's a once over she's given, down, then up. Not quite in the way most men assuredly look upon her. Something about it is more... wary than aught else.     "A week ago, and some change." He turns and his full regard settles on her, brow knitting together. "I do not wish him ill. I merely wish to ask some questions of him and have him reply in truth." There is a subtle accent to the man's deep baritone voice, the words rumbling forth like a steady growl.
Erica Reyes	Erica signals the bartender with a smile for a drink, and is served up a shot of vodka that is promptly paid for with cash. There's a tip to her head, a faint pull of her mouth into a smirk as an eyebrow arches. This one is a tough customer, but she doesn't look away from his gaze even as she lifts her vodka and tips it back. The little glass will clack against the bar as she nods. "What was he trying to get into?" She asks, sounding vaguely curious. There's no using of feminine wiles, no flirtation like most men in the bar would get. She will glance around, then look back up at him with a serious stare. "It's getting a little stuffy in here. Mind coming outside with me for some air?"
Ares	There's something curiously... off about this man. The way he holds himself, the way he is looking upon the world, upon her. It's as if he were a monarch of some land and that just happens to be anywhere he stands. This time as he looks upon her he doesn't look away, instead those stern eyes hold hers and for a bare moment she might get the faintest hint that there is something terribly wild in their depths, as if this was just a face that was being worn so as not to spook the herd.     But what might be even more telling... is that for some reason he lumps even a clear predator such as her... with all the others.     His smile is a small thing. Polite, given with all the ease as a handshake at a convention. "But I just ordered. Perhaps a seat at a booth?"
Erica Reyes	There is something off about him, and Erica can sense it, even if most of those around them can not. But she remains undeterred. If there is another wolf out there, lone or otherwise, she needs to know. She needs to find out, and try to /find/ him. She will not tolerate any threats to her pack.. or McCall's if she's honest. The feeling she is recognized and that doesn't matter.. intrigues her further. "Of course, a booth could work." She'll signal and order again, some fruity girly drink that will look more at home in her hand to most than a line of shots. It's not like it matters, anyhow. She'll wait until drinks are procured, and then turn to move out, seeking out an available booth.
Ares	Once he gains his own, just a simple rum and coke for him for now. He pays for it with a bill and a nod, then turns and offers the latter to her as well. They step into the crowd, navigating it easily enough with a few steps, a turn of shoulders, here, a low 'pardon' to get a couple to ease further into their seats. But then they reach the corner booth, out of the way, out of the line of sight of most, and with the current level of music in the place... not too easy to eavesdrop on.     Once she sits he will as well, taking the seat opposite her. He sets his drink down and then asks in that rumbling tone, "He was attempting to break into my home and endangered my son. I did not care for that. But I am more interested in the person who hired him to do so."
Erica Reyes	Erica will slide into the booth with a hand to smooth jeans along her thighs, a tug at her shirt. She'll sip at the fruity monstrosity because she paid for it and it is expected, rather than any actual desire. She will just sit back, and watch him for a long moment. "Can I see the picture again? I want to get a better look." She'll be honest, sitting forward and resting her arms on the table. "So you're not interested in the guy doing the breaking in, so much as looking for who hired him. And you're sure he's a hired gun?"
Ares	There's no waver in his eyes, no hint of departing from her own as he turns to the side and sets a foot in the booth seat beside him. He rests his back against the wall of the bar itself, and seems entirely at ease as he replies to her. "Yes. I know most likely who it is, but there are other entanglements in regards to him."     With that said he reaches a rough hand into the pocket of his jacket and withdraws the picture, setting it down upon the tabletop and sliding it over towards her. "Might I ask why you are so intrigued, Ms...?"
Erica Reyes	Erica will pull the picture closer, studying it. Furry, yes, but she's looking for the tell-tale signs. Eye glow, claws, fangs, something.. "Hmm. Must be a dangerous crowd you run in. " She'll murmur while studying the photo. There's a sip of her drink while her eyes never leave the image. She'll look up at that inquiry, a quirk of a smile. "Reyes. Erica Reyes. Truth is, I was trying to determine if it's really a mutant, or a werewolf, Mister...?"
Ares	The image does look like a bipedal wolf-type individual. The fur is slickened, and the muzzle is a bit short. He has claws and fangs, but doesn't fit the image she has of her own people. There is perhaps not quite the right ratio between wolf and human in the creature's stance. But then again the picture was taken in the dark, and the quality could be better.     "Aaron, John Aaron." He takes a moment to consider the room, just a casual glance lighting upon individuals here or there, then his eyes return to hers and he adds, "I believe him to be a mutant most likely, but I am open to possibilities." It's only then that he seems to remember his drink as he finally lifts it to his lips and takes a long pull, draining half of it.
Erica Reyes	There is a humming sound low in Erica's throat, before she'll offer that picture back over to him. "Pleasure's mine, John. I think you're right. It doesn't quite fit the werewolf characteristics that I know. If it had been a werewolf, there could have been a chance I could help you hunt him down, follow him, and so on. It would have been mutually beneficial. But I'm afraid I don't have any connections in the mutant community."
Ares	"Oh?" He asks, an eyebrow quirking upwards as he considers her. Over the years he's crossed paths with various beings of the supernatural, but perhaps he isn't quite as aware of the... society that exists between them. "May I advance an idea, Ms. Reyes?" He waits a moment for perhaps some sign of agreement, but then he presses on whether he receives a yes or not.     "There is the possibility that you could perhaps still help. Assuredly from what I perceive is your terribly altruistic nature." Is he smiling? It's hard to tell with that beard. "At the least you could spread the word around in some manner that he's being sought. And by the way, he answers to the name 'Rover'."
Erica Reyes	Erica lifts her gaze, looking at him directly. She will sip from her fruity drink while he advances his idea. "Honey, if you think I have an altruistic nature, you're clearly in the wrong bar. I wanted to be sure that it wasn't one of mine, and that it wasn't anyone I had to worry about being a jerk and getting me and mine hunted." There's a glare at the name 'rover', her chin coming out and lifting up a touch. "I'll see what I can do."
Ares	"Thank you for your kindness." The man then pushes his way to his feet, sliding out of the booth and then rising to his full height. He buttons his jacket, just two for a moment and then adjusts the hang of it as he looks at her levelly. "If you have need of a like favor then please feel free to call upon me." For some reason as he says that, that way he has of speaking in such a strangely... formal way, it's as if this were something akin to a ritual of sorts.     But then that moment passes as he gives her a nod, "Can I get you another drink before I depart?" He offers as he gestures with one hand towards the bar.
Erica Reyes	"It's not kindness. It's just best for everyone to keep things to a minimum fuss before people start screaming 'Werewolf'." She will turn, arranging long legs to rise from the seat of the booth, and still looking way up at him. "You're an interesting guy though, John. I'll give you that." There's a glance at that mostly drained fruity concotion on the table. "Thanks, but no thanks. The alcohol actually doesn't do anything for me. It was just cover." There's a flash of a wicked grin, then.
Ares	"I feel so deceived." John's voice affects a hint of petulance there, as if she had so horribly betrayed him. But then his smile is seen there, just at the corner of his mouth as he gives her a nod. "Until another time, Ms. Reyes." He reaches forward and takes up what remains of his drink, then downs it in one pull. The glass is set precisely in the center of the table with a resonant glassy clink before he gives her a small wink, then turns away.     A few moments later and he's stepping into the crowd, slipping between bar patrons and sparing a nod and a small salute towards the bartender.
Erica Reyes	Erica made chicken for tacos/quesadillas. Turned out so good she ended up just having some with rice.. after a soft taco.