Barroom Politics


ash_icon.gif isis2_icon.gif

Scene Title Barroom Politics
Synopsis Isis meddles where she shouldn't, and Ash suspects the worst of his unrecognized ex-lover.
Date August 24, 2010

Shooters Bar and Bistro

A place that used to be a cafe and is making a slow progression towards being a dive bar. During the day, the balcony and a good portion of the sidewalk is taken up by outdoor chairs and tables, where people can enjoy a beer as well as a sandwich or whatever else is on their menu - a decent, if simply array of bar food. During the evening, unless it's a warm night, these are taken inside, and the kitchens are closed. A wide variety of beer is available, along with hard liquor and maybe a few wine labels, but nothing fancy. The interior decor is similar to traditional British pubs, with a hardwood bar and brick wall. There's an old pool table towards the back, along with a dart board. The building is actually two storeys high, but whatever is upstairs is inaccessible to the general public.

What's a homecoming without a trip to Staten Island? Isis, or Joanne, has found her way into Shooters to suppliment the new stock of liquors she's already delivered to her shabby apartment.
The redhead grumbles as the swift cross of her cue across the pool table sends the black eight ball into the wrong pocket. "Damn," she grumbles, turning a bill over to the man standing at the other end.
"Rematch?" he grunts with a sly smile.
"Nah. Lady Luck isn't playing easy tonight. Thanks." The redhead claims her Captain and Coke from the edge of the table and works her way back towards the bar.

Ash comes out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans with swift motions. He makes his way back over to a table with a couple of younger men, though both bear a very serious countenance for their youth. Ash slides into the booth, pushing his button up shirt to the side so he can plop in without sitting on it. He starts talking quietly with them, animating things with his hands as he converses with the two guys.

Miss King tips back the last of her drink and slides the empty glass towards the bartender in request for a refill. As the man mixes up the liquids, the young woman digs a pair of gloves out from the back pocket of her jeans. Tipsy + Control = Does Not Compute. The redhead wriggles her fingers into the black gloves, an accessory to her faded and hole-scattered skinny jeans, flat black boots, and maroon turtleneck. After trading a few dollars for her refreshed drink, she turns to scope out the establishment.
It does not take much time to find a figure she recognizes. She freezes where she stands, hazel eyes taking in Ash's movements and appearance with a thoughtful attention.

Ash is quite a bit more scarred up than when Isis last saw him. His arms are speckled with fresh pink scars, and there's another scar on his face, matching the claw marks on one cheek, is a thin slice bisecting his right cheek. He lifts a glass of rum and coke to his lips, taking a long swallow of it befor ehe goes back to speaking with the pair of guys. After a few more moments though he smiles at them and gestures for them to move on. The two guys exchange a joke or two with him before they move away with small smiles, but still rather serious faces. Ash also looks harder, it's in his eyes and in his face, harder than he was before.

Liquid courage, or liquid stupidity. Only time will tell. Isis shares a quick word with the bartender and makes another exchange. Finding a drink for her free hand, she finally moves forward. Without pause, she stops over at Ashes table and sets one of the glasses down, sliding it towards him.
"I'm not one to judge, but I'd say you look like you need another drink," the redhead quips before sipping on her own glass.

Ash turns his head, then lifts it, eyes trailing slowly up the red head to her features, a look of faint recognition in his eyes, but it's only for a few seconds. "Why do you think that?" he asks, his voice a bit rough. His glass is lifted for a drink, though the offered one is left on the table for the moment. "Didn't you used to work at Biddy's? Think I saw you there once or twice when I was still loitering around that place." He looks at the drink warily, suspicion clear in the big man's eyes.

The woman offers an easy chuckle. "Yeah. I didn't stick around long, though. Had some family business that needed taking care of." She glances at the avoided drink and lofts a brow. "I hope your not planning on turning that down. That, sir, would be alcohol abuse." She wags a gloves finger at Ash and smiles easily.
Why was she being so kind? Guilt? She takes another moment to look at what Ash has become, her smile fading a miniscule degree. "Anywho, I just got back to New York. Thought it was kinda nice to see a familiar face, so…" She shrugs. "Didn't mean to bother you, though."

Ash presses his lips together, into a thin line, his eyes searching the woman's features as she speaks. "I just tend to be suspicious of drinks purchased for me by random strangers. These are… dangerous times after all." He finishes his rum and coke, then begins to turn the drink that was set before him slowly in his hands, peering into it, then lifting his gaze back up. "Familiar faces are nice in this city."

"So I've heard…" Isis's tone is delicate in its sadness. She shakes her head slowly. "Things are goin' to shit, huh?" She furrows her brows, tipping her glass from side to side to watch the contents slosh around. "I watched this movie once… 'People should not be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people.'" She chuckles half-heartedly at the quote and gives a shrug. "Revolution sounds nice and all, but…" She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head again, looking back up to Ash.
"Who comes to a bar to talk politics though, right?" Isis quips, trying to brush aside the topic that most certainly draws a nervous pit into her stomach. She nudges her chin towards the glass. "You want me to take a sip to prove I didn't spike it with anything unfriendly?" she teases with a grin.

Ash lets a slow, and rather cold smile spread over his lips. "Oh, I think that's coming along. With what's been going on here as of late? Evolved terrorist groups striking out, destroying government targets left and right. I think the government is learning rather quickly that there's only so much power it really has." He chuckles, and lifts the drink to his lips, taking a small sip of it. "Oh, I think you know very well the subjects that become conversation in bards." He lets his smile fade away to a more neutral expression befor ehe sighs softly. "V had one thing right. Governments should be afraid of their people. Thomas Jefferson had it right too, that when a government becomes corrupt it should be brought down in a bloody revolution, and a new system put in it's place."

Isis's features slowly fall away from that tendancy to smile. Her expression remains placid as she takes in Ash's words and mannerisms. That's the funny thing about someone's lover - you usually learn how to read them fairly well. The redhead slowly cants her head to the side, a few errants locks falling across her face.
She leans forward suddenly, abandonning her drink and bracing her gloved hands to the tabletop. "What've you gotten yourself into now, Ash," she hisses. Her shoulders heave with deep, uncertain breathes as her hazel eyes flicker back and forth in an attempt to read the answer out of the man's hardened eyes. Just as suddenly she realizes her error and pushes back from the table. "'Scuse me." She turns on her heel and pushes through the bustle of drunkards, making for the door in a hurry.

Ash bears a red scarf around his wrist, even here, in public llike this, and that red sash is known amongst certain circles, though Isis might not know about it. When she leans in like that and makes that hissed comment the man cocks a brow up at her, both at the comment itself, and at her using his name. he doesn't pursue her. He's much too suspicious and wary of a trap to do that, but he does watch her exit, and he does set the drink she bought down on the table, a grunt escaping him. When he does rise and exit, it's through the backdoor, not through the one Isis used.

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