grace_icon.gif sebastian_icon.gif minea_icon.gif coren_icon.gif

Scene Title Semantics
Synopsis Grace and Coren play a game of pool, which Sebastian and Minea bet on. The game ends prematurely, and Sebastian buys Minea a beer with her own money.
Date April 12, 2009

Fat Cat Billiards

Fat Cat Billiards is far more than just a bar. Equipped with a plethora of tables for pool, ping-pong, shuffleboard, chess, checkers, backgamon and scrabble sets to satisfy a mob, as they say, it's almost like an adult arcade. A barely noticeable layer of smoky haze hangs in the air, and smooth Jazz plays over the speakers as the boisterous crowd goes about their business of occupying their time in whatever way they choose.

The bar looks to be fully stocked with a wide array of beers on tap and bottles, and enough of the harder stuff to satisfy most palettes. The tenders are as friendly as one might expect (it keeps the tip jars filled, after all) and are usually pretty competent when it comes to filling orders, although there's little showmanship. Just a good drink served at a reasonable price here.

It's part of Coren's Improve Your Own Mood PlanTM. To cope with the growing injustice and the looming thoughts of past cases coming back to haunt him, he spends most of his non-work hours as buzzed by alcohol as possible. Right now, he's losing badly at a game of pool, which he shouldn't have started because he hasn't played since his college days back in the eighties and is taking quite some time getting his game back. The bottle of beer he continues to nurse through the game — his third — probably isn't helping too much either. He knew it was going to be a bad game right from the break, and the bloke he's playing with, whom he barely knows, could tell too.

Not really a very good way to improve one's mood, is that? Grace isn't actually a fan of alcohol, for all that she winds up in this sort of place more often than one might expect from that. Atmosphere counts. She does have a Long Island iced tea in hand but it's hardly been touched so far. The familiar face at the pool table provided a convenient distraction; her lips quirk in a subtle, lopsided smile as it becomes clear Detective Shelby is most definitely losing.

Grace waits until the game reaches its certain end, then gets up from the bar and walks over to the tables, the distinctive raven's voice preceding her actual arrival. "If you want a few pointers, Mr. Shelby— " No detectives here! "— I won't even charge you anything."

"It's Doctor, actually," he says quietly, "But please, call me Coren. It's only fair." He lets the bloke who took his money walk away before setting the table back up for eightball. "I haven't played this game in nearly twenty years, it's no wonder I'm rusty." He chalks his cue. "Care to break?"

"Hey, I figured anything was better here than 'Detective'," Grace replies with a flicker of a dryly amused grin. "And I will, just as long as you call me 'Grace'. I've gotten used to not hearing 'Matheson' all the time." She claims the other guy's cue, chalks its tip, peers sidelong across the table at Coren. "Sure. I think I can do that." Her break, however, fails to pocket any of the colored spheres. Grace is familiar with the game; she's no shark.

The man nods, "That's what I keep saying, yes." He takes aim and manages to scatter the balls into possibly worse positions than they were in immediately post-break, save for one, which stops short of a pocket. "I suppose I never did quite get into visualizing the geometry of the balls, and if you give the cue ball an unwanted spin, that's just one more variable I don't care to account for. It's just a game, anyway." He takes a drink of his beer. No, he's not a beer fan, but it's cheap.

Is there such a thing as a 'worse' position when nothing has even been pocketed yet? "That would explain it," Grace observes. "If you don't bother with the geometry you'll never make a solid shot. Here." She leans her cue against the table and gestures for Coren to come over to her. In the form of an imperative point at the floor. You. Right there. "We'll get that one you almost sank." Yeah, it's her turn. So?

"I never said I didn't bother with the geometry," Coren says after he takes another drink of his beer. Nonetheless, he does stand right where he's pointed to. "I just said I never got used to visualizing it." He sinks it. "Stripes. Your two shots." He quirks a slight grin. "Oh, and really sorry about the whole Hollingwood mess, by the way."

Sebastian walks into the rather large establishment, and pauses a moment to look around. He's dressed casually tonight - jeans, a tee shirt, his jacket - and looks a bit lost. After a moment though that particular look passes and he heads for the bar, finding a free stool and sliding into it, order a beer before turning to take a better gander at the people around. He smiles a little, an almost sad thing, but there's that in his eyes for those that look - he's happy at the same time. Proud.

Minea's there, on a stool next to Sebastian, watching the pool lesson. A couple beers to dull the bruises from her impromptu sparring in Pete's Gym earlier. She's limping a bit and has more than her own fair share of bruises beneath her clothing. Gravel voiced woman and the Detective in her sights, when Sebastian wanders in and parks himself within her sphere of self she offers him a jut outwards of her chin in greeting before swallowing another mouthful of her beer.

"Semantics," the rasping-voiced woman dismisses. "Solids it is." She moves around the table, lines up her cue… and stops just before actually striking the cue ball to regard Coren. Grace waves a hand vaguely. "Don't worry about it. Over, done. No hard feelings." Then she leans down and takes her shot. One solid pocketed.

"Good," Coren says as he lines up his shot. "Because I'd hate for things to be too weird between us. You do appear at headquarters from time to time, after all. No good having trouble with people you work with." He takes the shot, just barely pocketing a stripe and very nearly sinking the cue ball. "Between you and me, Nalani Hollingwood is waste of air."

Sebastian's attention is turned back to the bar as his beer is delivered. By chance it brings his gaze over Minea, and the woman gets a second-glance before he takes a drink. For a moment he's about to say something, but doesn't, and his gaze returns to the crowd, eventually finding the duo playing pool. After a moment, without looking over, he says, "I think I saw you at the gym," his voice soft, just enough to be heard over the murmur of the crowd around.

"You were with the kid. Talking geek" She was sweating up a storm. "Minea" The line up of the pool balls is eye'd and the two playing. "Five bucks she beats him"

Sebastian lifts a brow, "Oh yea, Simon." he nods, and glances over, "Sebastian," he says in reply, no hand offered as it holds a beer. He considers, and nods, "Allright, bet."

"It is 'time to time'," Grace points out. "I can 'work' with all sorts of people on that kind of basis, trouble or no." Except that people she has trouble with tend to strike sparks, and that doesn't always work out well. "Definitely no argument there," the woman agrees. She lines up her next shot — and is this time interrupted by a cellphone's ring. "Mmf. I have a feeling we're going to have to raincheck the rest of this game." Two rings; Grace sets the cue down against the table and puts the phone to her ear, drifting away from the table for a modicum of privacy. "Matheson; go." Soon to be going, and then gone.

"Not a problem," Coren says as he takes Grace's cue and sets it on the rack. He's often aware of his surroundings, even when slightly buzzed by alcohol, and he couldn't help but notice the two at the bar. "Something tells me neither of them bet that would happen." He resets the table, racks his own pool cue, and heads to the bar with his empty bottle. "Scotch and soda, please." He tosses down a bill to cover the drink and sets his empty beer bottle on the bar as he takes the stool he was on prior to his brief foray into pool. Miraculously, the seat was still empty.

Shit. She's walking away. 'So who wins this bet?" Though Minea's digging into a purse and surfacing five bucks to hand over to Simon. The stool happens to be on the other side of Simon. "So who wont eh game before" To Coren as he takes his seat, taking another long pull from her own alcohol.

"Huh. Now what?" His question is given almost at the same time as Minea's before he offers a small chuckle. ""Tell you what," he says, taking the five bucks, "We'll just buy another beer?" He lifts his hand to signal the tender for a refill for Minea and places the five on the bar. After that he offers his hand to her to shake, but looks over to hear Coren's response to her question.

"That would be the other bloke," Coren says, as he takes a sip of his newly poured drink. Otherwise, he remains fairly silent and doesn't give them too much of a look aside from a cursory glance at the money exchanging hands.

"Nice, I just bought myself a beer" Minea shakes her head before offering a hand to Coren. "Minea Dahl. This is Sebastian. You don't play much pool?" THe brown hair is loose, layered down to her shoulders and a little below, lounging on the seat with her pint, weathered leather jacket that speaks many levels of cherishment for the item.

Sebastian takes his hand back before Minea can see it was offered, and places it on his knee. He looks over at Coren and grins, lifting his beer by way of greeting, "Pleasure," he says softly. He takes another drink, and then checks his watch, muttering softly. "Shit. Actually, Minea, I'll have to take a raincheck on that beer as well." he frowns, "Sorry, I lost track of time, and I have to get…"

There's a slight chuckle at the 'bought myself a beer' comment. Coren shakes his head slightly as Sebastian gets up to leave and almost interrupts his response. Instead he waits until he's paused. "Not in a while, no." He doesn't say it's a pleasure, oddly. He would if he were completely sober and not moping, but he's been doing a lot of that lately….

"Another day Sebastian" Down into her purse she dips again this time with a business card for him. replete with her phone number. "Call me?" It's an offer, though an open one for interpitation. WHich ends up leaving it to just her and Coren at the bar, though she makes sure to linger and watch Sebastian go. "Bad day?"

Sebastian takes the card and eyes it once, unsure to the meaning of its offer. but he takes it with a smile, "Sure. Or I'll see you at the gym sometime." He nods at Coren, and seems unoffended by the lack of reply - hardly a big deal. He puts his hardly-touched beer back on the bar, and drops a tip down, before turning to head for the exit. On the way out he can be seen taking the card out of his pocket before giving Minea a second glance, then he's out of sight.

"More like bad week, really. Bad month… yes, that's definitely it. Or couple of years," Coren says and then takes another drink. "Take your pick, really. Work sucks, and I'm suddenly missing seven thousand, six hundred and forty-two dollars and eighty-nine cents. But really, that's just money."

"You too?" Minea was one with the luck in that her bank accounts were not located in NYC, but in fact based elsewhere in the states. "Seems alot of people got hit" Minea offers sympathetically. "What's your line of work that things are sucking?"

"Law enforcement, and obviously I can't discuss my cases ongoing or otherwise," Coren says quietly before taking another drink of his Scotch and soda. At least it's not pure booze.

"I wouldn't expect you to. Not unless I was on the cases, and I'm not on the cases. But I can imagine that right now, Law enforcement in New York City has to be a tough job." SHe offers her hand to him again. "Minea Dahl. Homeland" It's an innocent enough looking hand. "So I can comisserate"

"Doctor Coren Shelby, Detective-Investigator, NYPD." It's a very firm handshake. "Understatement of the century, Miss Dahl. Law enforcement is practically non-existent in certain parts of the city, and only marginally better everywhere else."

"Hence, a tough job. But at some point, you hit rock bottom and you can only go up from there" her now empty beer glass is exchanged for the one that was bought for her with her own money, shifting in her seat with a wince but that eases away soon enough. "So work. Money. Lady troubles?" A gesture to his hand and the ring. "Or are you not winning the trifecta?"

"That's what the tell me. Thankfully, that's a non-issue," Coren says, twirling his wedding band ever so slightly. Sure, he's divorced, but wearing it lets him stay a loner, even if some might find that incredibly weird. He takes another drink.

"Another round for him" Money placed on the bar. "Lets drink to the Significant others that we've .. left behind, to the side or tossed over the rail hmm?" Minea smiles, this of course indicating that she's in that same pool, sorta. "Seen anything strange? Round Brooklyn?"

And with good timing, since Coren finishes his drink and raises the second glass with a bit of a grunt. He takes a drink and then ponders the question about Brooklyn. When was the last time he was actually in Brooklyn? Well, there was that mugging, which he's going to be looking into on Monday…. "Haven't seen anything strange, personally, but I know of a few things, one of which is a case I was just recently assigned to as a matter of fact. Damned evolveds are making it even harder to catch criminals than before this whole debacle started. But that's about all I can say on that matter."

"Evo?" Perk. "Are you able to tell me anything about that?" Minea's hoping, wishing he would, but she's not about to press it too hard.

"Evil," Coren says. It's one of the few situations under which his anti-evolved sentiment remains. "I'm quite sure I can't."

Doesn't matter, he's given her enough to go on. She can hit up Katherine or grab Veronica and the two of them can look into it. Likely Veronica. "Fair enough. I should let you be. In your.. drink" Whatever it is he's drinking. She should know, but then, usually she just sniffs a drink to find out. Be kinda rude to sniff his drink. "You should go back to the pool table, play another round by yourself. It's good for letting out stuff"

Coren downs the nearly full glass of Scotch and soda, mostly Scotch. "I think I'm pooled out. Just going to call a cab and call it a night, I think." He stands up from his stool. "Good night, Miss Dahl." And with that, he's pulling out his cell phone and walking towards the exit.

"Good night Sir" Lifting her own cup to him, taking that last mouthful before she's digging her own phone out but not heading out the door. Instead, it's to leave a message on someone's voicemail. "Veronica. Something's gone down in Brooklyn. Was just talking with an officer. Something involving evolveds"

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