Tried to Get the Nun's Number


abby5_icon.gif caliban_icon.gif delilah_icon.gif joy_icon.gif linus_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Tried to Get the Nun's Number
Synopsis Everyone seems to pair up at Old Lucy's tonight. And then all hell breaks loose. Must be Wednesday.
Date February 3, 2010

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the black and cream risqué wallpapered walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar.

Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the back room and owner's office and a stairwell that leads the residence above the floor above the bar.

Free rounds of shots for everyone and we're not talking the H1N1 flu shot.

The bar opened after the two day hiatus after the shooting of its new bartender in the alley means that everyone wearing no black behind the bar. It's just how it's done in Old Lucy's. The music is blaring and along with Izzy's picture above the bar, there's now a second. Tanya. To the faithful departed, let memory preserve.

The side exit is not opened and tonight, if you want a smoke and don't want to do it in the building, then you're welcome to go out the front. Brenda of the flame red hair - that only comes in a shade that a bottle of dye special ordered to a really expensive hair salon - is up on counter, dancing to a song blared over the speakers littering the bar along with one of the newest girls - this one has blue hair with purple tips - tipping bottles of vodka into people mouths as they go.

The owner of the bar who's far more sedate, is still filling orders, a shot glass put up with every new face that comes up to the bar. A drink in Tanya's honor tonight, a public wake for a good ol' girl.

Magnes is sitting at the bar, staring up at Brenda and the new girl dancing, sipping a small bottle of Guinness. He's in that red t-shirt with the black Spider-Man symbol on it, wearing a black denim jacket and some blue jeans with a pair of black sneakers; he's yet to go shopping. His eyes are wide, and he is definitely alert and paying attention. Months ago, he'd likely be averting and looking the other way, but… Brenda dancing on a table with a blue haired girl! Wooo!

Linus steps through the front door of the bar. That itself is an odd occurrence - it took a strange phone call with his dad to push him to try and be social. Stop hiding in that fort of games, he said. Go out and have a good time. Greeeat. Linus hesitates in the doorway, causing someone to bump into him from behind. He mumbles an awkward apology before he awkwardly navigates the crowd of people towards the bar, like one big commander of awkwardness. He fumbles onto a stool that happens to be next to Magnes, drumming his fingers until someone comes over to take his order. He lifts his hand as someone does, but they pass right by him to someone else who showed up after him. Typical.

Delilah may not be allowed to drink at Lucy's, but she tries to circumvent it by sipping something up before walking down to the bar. By the time she always gets there, she has an okay buzz going for her. If she happens to sneak a straw into something, okay, but she usually does not try it because of Abby. When she gets there tonight, it is much the same; the redhead comes in the front with a pleased smile on her face, smoother than usual for the mid-winter months.

It so happens that Delilah is the one waving down the woman still behind the bar and not on top of it. It's to only reach out and hand the girl a flower that she's brought with her through the cold- and with a whisper, it turns out to be for her to put up near the mantle with Isabelle and Tanya.

Part of Dee is sort of glad that she never asked Abby for a job. There seems to be a high rate of injury or death.

Free shots? Well, that's a nice surprise. One buzz is wearing off, so it's time for Joy to start working on a different sort. Clad in skinny jeans, a black boat neck sweater and a pair of silver sequin platform stiletto heels, she swaggers (which is a polite way of saying her balance is a little off, but it's not quite staggering yet) her way into Old Lucy's and up to the bar. She takes up residence on a stool on the other side of Linus from Magnes, eying the selection of beverages behind the bar. The bartender seems to be busy speaking with a red-headed - Hey, don't I know her? Truth be told, she knows the bartender as well, but Delilah's face is the more recently seen one, while Abby's is only registering as a niggling sense of déjà vu in the back of the blonde's mind.

Planting one elbow on the bar so her hand can come up to rest against the side of her face and shield it from sight, Joy decides the best course of action to avoid being spotted is to strike up a conversation with the man sitting next to her. "Hi there," she offers in greeting to Linus over the music.

Oh Delilah. Just if you're blonde. Or named Abby.

Brenda watches as Abigail leans over with one forefinger held up to Linus then picks the flower from the Toadee so that she can clamber up onto the bar. Now that she herself is legal age, she's given in to having had a very few shots through the night in honor of the fallen bartender. "Dee, find out what he wants" Obviously meaning Linus and not realizing that Joy has taken up residence on the other side and conversation as well. "and Magnes! Stop looking up Brenda's skirt" She's a little more relaxed than anyone would expect her to be likely given what's been happening that they know of, and what they don't all know of.

The flower finds its way into a little shot glass wedged up on the ledge, stem trimmed via a pinch of fingernails till it's just fitting into tall chunk of glass and the former healer is hopping back down.

Abby takes a moment to observe the bar as a whole, paranoia rising for a moment as she cranes her neck to glance at people near doors or who don't look like they quite belong while she wipes her hands and tries to habitually re-adjust a necklace that just isn't there anymore. That prompts a grimace before she returns back to her place at the bar just in time to grab an order for a pitcher from a server.

Brenda and the new girl finish dancing across the bar and liberally lubricating patrons with alcohol and return back to serving alcohol the normal way. At least for another hour.

Startled when Abby calls him out, Magnes nearly jumps out of his skin. His cheeks go red and he turns to Linus, raising a hand to pat him on the back. "S-sorry! I was just, like, I accidentally reversed the gravity of my friend's contact lens, and I was looking for it, and uh…" He swallows, then looks past Linus and spots Joy. He has a clear look of recognition on his face, but almost immediately turns away from her. He was wearing a mask when they met.

Having gone back to drumming his fingers on the bar while waiting for someone to take his order, he turned his eye from his side. So when a voice comes from that direction, a feminine one saying hello, he looks over at the woman. His eyes get pretty wide for a minute before he looks the other way to check and see if maybe she was talking to Magnes or somebody else behind him. When he notices that nobody else is answering her, he gulps down some nerves before turning back around. "Uh.. hi." Long awkward pause. Say something, idiot! "I'd offer you a drink, but I can't seem to get one myse-" And that's when one of the two girls get to him, and not expecting to be delivered a shot of alcohol from above, gets it in the face. Or rather in the eye. His reaction is twofold. One, he screams in pain like a sissy. Two, he starts rubbing the alcohol out of his eye. "Ow! What the hell!" When reaching for his eye, his elbow swings out and catches Magnes in the back of his head.

Delilah is more than happy to try and pick up the pace, but as soon as she looks over to the trio to her right- there is a chain of events that culminate in Magnes getting whacked in the back of the head by the guy with the booze in his eye. She has noticed Joy, but it has been so long that Cat's warnings go into the breeze. Delilah just laughs when she steps away from the bar, partially to avoid any afterward knocking into things, or rogue drops of acid rain, or any other accidental misconduct. Standing over —-> there for a minute. At least Magnes'll see her if he looks away from the bar now.

Without checking the security feed, there's no way to know how long Caliban has been in the bar, but his familiar shape can be seen weaving between the space between tables as he makes his way across the floor with a bouquet of black roses tucked under his arm. He's dressed for the blustery weather outside in a long greatcoat worn over a pinstripe business suit in varying shades of dark gray that encourage comparison to a long, lean jungle cat with a charcoal pelt and pale eyes.

It's been awhile since he set foot in Old Lucy's, and maybe this has something to do with what happened between him and Abigail while they were both in Russia — but social protocol dictates that he stop by, however briefly, to pay his respects to the dead.

Joy winces as Linus gets vodka'd in the eye, and then nearly takes Magnes out with his elbow. "Hold still," she commands gently, reaching out to place a hand on either side of his face and hold it steady before plucking up a fresh napkin and dabbing at the corner of the man's eye. "You're okay." Trust me, I'm a doctor.

Joy relaxes now, the thought of Delilah possibly asking her questions that she would find uncomfortable having left her for the time being. "You can buy me a whiskey," she muses, wadding up the napkin and setting it on the bar. "I'm Joy, by the way."

Man down! Men down. Brenda just laughs, throwing a few napkins towards Linus. "Open your mouth next time Boy-o!" The red haired bartender calls out to Linus, visibly wincing when Magnes gets nailed by Linus. "And there's our entertainment for tonight ladies and gentlemen! Tweedle dee and tweedle dum!" She does a Vanna White, Wheel of Fortune brandishing of arms and hands before shot glasses are pushed onto the countertop between the two men and she leans down displaying ample bosom. "Let little miss Nightingale help ya there hmm?"

Abigail's popping stacked cups onto the tray, sending out the round with her waitress and getting ready to fill the next orders when the Brit with the flowers comes into her field of view. Odds of having forgotten about that time in Russia have likely not been erased. Nor about her willingness to trade her life for Caliban's limbs when faced with psychotic illusionists looking for nuclear bombs. "Robert." She's liquored up enough to use his first name. One shot glass makes its way to the counter, filled with something, soon to follow is Caliban's usual when he's here.

Magnes lurches forward, holding the back of his head with a groan. "Half-blind guy with a concussion!" he exclaims, sitting up just in time to glance over at Delilah out of his good eye. "It's alright, I've been hit with worse. Someone once hit me with a piece of the street." Oh boy, Tokyo was fun. "Can I get another one of these Guinness things?"

Linus groans as he rubs at his eye before his head is grabbed and held still, his eye dabbed free of the burning sensation of liquid pain with paper. He winces the whole time, too. What a champ this guy is. When Joy is done, he offers her one of those goofy 'what can you do' smiles before he nods. "Uh, right. Whiskey." He clears his throat, turning around to look at Delilah, who he remembers being told to take his order anyway. In the process, he sees Magnes clutching the back of his head. "Oh, man! Dude, I am so sorry." He puts a hand on the guy's shoulder, frowning. Seems like he means it. "Are you alright?" Then he cranes his head a bit towards Delilah. "Hey, um.. can I get a whiskey and.. uh.. what's cool.. a Dos Equis?"

"Right, I'll let them know." The girls are indeed as distracted as they sound, and Delilah helping the new blue-haired girl with the new guy's order is the least that she can do. Linus will get what he asked for once the list gets whittled down. Delilah asked for a soda, but she won't expect it until everyone else has something first. Now that he knows she's there, Delilah joins Magnes on his empty side, though the stool there is taken- she just sidles in between, knee bumping against Magnes' leg in greeting. "Getting beaten up already, are you?" Dee's foreign-y chirping is quite atmospheric for his vicinity.

"Miss Beauchamp." Caliban is, apparently, not prepared to be on a first-name basis with Abigail even if she's prepared to be on one with him. He places the roses on the counter, crinkling the plastic they're wrapped in, and trades them for the shot glass. "My condolences for your loss," he says, and although he does not turn his head to look and Joy and Linus or Magnes and Delilah, it's clear that he's keeping an eye on them in that hazy space that is his peripheral vision. "Have the authorities come up with anything?"

Nightingale. There's a momentary twitch in Joy's features at the word. A time she wishes she could go back and change, a name and life abandoned. A quick glance around reveals no unreasonably blue eyes watching her, and so the woman relaxes, fixing Linus with a serene smile. He wouldn't be the worst patient she's ever had the opportunity to treat. "I didn't catch your name," she reminds gently, sparing a glance to Delilah and Magnes that turns her smile into more of a smirk.

"Your condolences are accepted. They haven't come up with anything yet. Took copies of all my security tapes. Don't think they'll find anything. You know how it is." Dead bartenders don't count high on their priorities when there's about ten other murders every night. She pours a shot glass of Seven Up for herself and clinks the cup before she tilts her head back and drinks it. No more alcohol for her. "Besides, I don't think they can take care of the problem. What with dead Norse Wolves bearing Cyrillic love notes about wanting to know every inch of my body." Okay, maybe those couple shots were too much. Usually are when you're on the daily maintenance medication that Abigail is on.

The flowers are taken with a gracious nod, divesting them of the plastic protection, scissors cutting stems down in quick order and popping them into a beer pitcher with some water. There are no appropriate vases in the bar unfortunately, and they're soon in a place of honor with a few other bouquets. She's avoided littering the alleyway with them. "Delilah, Magnes" She sees Caliban eyeing them. "Friends. The other two are just cust-" Wait a minute there blondie.

"Oh.. that's…" She remembers that face, and the condescending look that had been on it when she'd seen it, but where. "A familiar woman…" But Delilah is given carte blanche for drinks and Blue is helping her out and filling the orders.

"Beside sympathies, to what do I owe this visit? The hotel opening I think, has long since passed unfortunately. I was having my ankle seen to in Mexico." But knowing Caliban, he already knew that. "How's the head?"

"Hey, it's alright, really! If you didn't screw up and accidentally hit me, I'd have screwed up and accidentally hit you. Two guys like us sitting together, it's like, Murphy's Law." Magnes laughs, then moves a hand to wrap around Delilah's waist so he can lean up and peck her on the lips. "I'll be fine, he's cool. But I do seem to attract something smashing into me everywhere I go. Maybe it's a secondary gravity mutation… You can sit on my lap if you want."

"My name is Linus. I'll give you a moment to laugh and get it out of your system, while I double check that my friend here is alright." And he does just that, turning his body on the stool again to give Magnes a nod. "Good. Yeah, I noticed the shirt. Nice. I'm Linus. I'll give you the same offer I gave Joy here to laugh it out of your system." Then he notices him clinging to Delilah and the kiss. Why can't he be that type of nerd? Shaking his head, he spots the looming Caliban out of his own peripheral vision, and shudders a bit. Some dudes are just.. creepy. Whether or not Joy laughed at his name, he swings back around to talk to her. "So.. you said you're a Doctor? That's cool, where did you go to school?" Not a bad move, actually, keeping the topic on her. Oh yeah, hello. My name is Linus, and I play video games for a living. Want to go back to my place?

Delilah moves her face just enough that Magnes only half-lands that PDA on her lips, instead most of it getting placed to her cheek. She might have to explain those usually unwritten rules, won't she? She does, however, lean onto his leg, though not completely just hopping onto his lap. "That can't be right, else I'd be smashing into you too." And as far as Delilah knows, she came over here on her own! Her eyes follow Linus as he turns away to keep his own social option open, so the redhead is left to peer across the bar either direction.

Dead Norse What? "I'm sorry," Caliban says, and the tone of his voice coupled with his rumpled brow suggests that he isn't apologizing for Tanya. Abby's been drinking — he can smell it on her breath at such close proximity, and though his nostrils flare when he gets a whiff of it, he's polite enough not to comment. Instead, he tosses back his own shot and discards the now empty glass on the counter's surface with a sharp tink.

"My head's fine." He reaches up to touch his fingertips to the back of his head, nails grazing over a scar that's barely visible beneath his graying hair. "Mild concussion, a few stitches where the scalp split — nothing that hasn't already sorted itself out. What's this about a love letter?"

Joy's brows furrow quizzically. Laugh at him? Why would she laugh at his name? Yeah, this one didn't grow up reading the papers, and thus the comics printed there. "It's nice to meet you, Linus. I, ah, did my schooling down south." In Texas. In a facility no one's supposed to know exists. They don't issue diplomas, but can get you a medical license that's a little less than genuine. "What do you do for a living?" Employing Linus' very same tactic, Joy steers the subject to him, so as to avoid talking about herself. Social situations just suck, don't they?

"Doctor Sasha Kozlow came by the bar, the same day Tanya died. Also known as Skoll, also known as you getting to say I told you so. He drew an orchid, very simple, very beautiful. wrote 'The beauty of your glowing body beckons me to touch, to taste, to love its graceful expanse from your forehead to toes, fingers to nose. How I hunger to know you so completely.' It's very creepy. Have you seen our new wallpaper? Brenda did it while I was on vacation. I think it'd go real good in Burlesque. You should suggest it to him. " Because Caliban was right and Abby was wrong. "Wish I could heal it for you. You don't deserve a scar. No one deserves scars" The empty shot glass is tucked away with other dirty used ones. "That woman is familiar…" Abigail turns to regard Joy, brows furrowed. "I'm usually really good at remembering names and face I mean, not as good as ca- oh" Crap. "Shit"

The doctor, from Wu-Longs apartment who did something to stop Eileen's… being till she could get here. Joy is eyed with a great amount of wariness now.

"My name's Magnes, I don't have much room to laugh. Usually I say what I do for a living, but currently I'm unemployed and looking for a college to cash in my scholarship." Magnes has a slight frown of disappointment when Delilah derails the kiss. He is completely unaware of these unwritten rules! He keeps an arm around her when she sits on his leg, and rests a chin on her shoulder. "I do something wrong?" he asks, keeping his voice low, though still audible to anyone particularly close.

Sorry, Magnes. Linus really isn't trying to give you the cold shoulder. Really, he's not. But hello, hot girl talking to him. "Really? Are you from the South, or just go to school there? What are you a doctor of? I'm guessing not pediatrics." He laughs nervously, grinning like a doofus. "I.. uh, work at a company. It's real hush hush stuff. I'm not allowed to talk about my work."

Delilah leans her head back to bump her cheek into his. "Go easy on the PDAs, that's all." There are secrets to doing this 'open' thing! Her observations of her surroundings come in handy now, of all times- because she gives a small double-take towards the back of Linus' head, blinking her eyes an extra time and then looking to Magnes to see if he even heard that- or if he was smelling her hair (again).

It's taking Caliban a little longer than usual to process the information that Abigail is laying on him. He's moved on from his shot to his pint of whatever his usual consists of — some dark coloured liquid with rich, creamy froth that coats his upper lip and has to be wiped off the bristle of his moustache with the back of his hand. The content of the Kozlow's note would be more surprising if similar notions hadn't occurred to him from time to time. Not that he has any intention of telling Abigail this.

Or at least not while she's drunk. That would be unsportsmanlike. Then again—

Cool blue eyes flick from Abby's face to Joy's and settle steely there. "Problem?" he asks the bartender.

"I don't have a real focus, per se," Joy says with a shrug. This is why she didn't want to actually talk about herself. These questions are hard! "But I perform more surgery than I do, say, diagnose ear infections."

A glance toward the somewhat familiar bartender reveals that the man she's talking to appears to have got his eye on Joy. And Caliban's gaze is rather disconcerting to her. The recognition doesn't show on her face other than a brief and minute widening of her eyes, but Joy's finally placed Abby's face. Hey, didn't I want to perform a encephalectomy on you? Turning back to Linus quickly, she asks the one question he likely never expected to hear tonight.

"You wanna go make out?"

Men seem to be very sportsmanlike with Abigail when she's slightly to overly intoxicated. Probably has something to do with the belief in a higher power, going to go to hell if you screw over the benevolent former healer. "No, well… maybe. I'll see. She's someone… unsavory." Last she knew. She'd have to ask Eileen.

Instinctual, Caliban never gets to wipe off the smear of foam from the Samuel Adams. Abigail's reaching up with a clean rag to do it, like she's done with Deckard, or with Teo when he's stayed home and they've watched a movie. Without thinking really, and with a smile on her face. "Scruff suits you. I need your help" Because generally, when the two get in the same room, or in touch with one another, Abby wants something, needs something.

"Why?" Magnes asks, that slight frown still on his face, though it's more pouty than anything as he leans in a bit closer, placing a kiss to her neck. "I know we're not committed or anything, but I don't care if people know what we're doing."

Finally, his beer has arrived! And by extension, so has Joy's whiskey. Both are set on the counter, and Linus picks both up to hand the whiskey to her before taking a sip of his beer. Unfortunately for Joy, she picked the wrong time to thrust such an unexpected question on poor Linus. Involuntarily, he projectile heaves the beer he just put in his mouth all over her top, dousing it in foamy alcohol and spittle. His eyes grow wider than the proverbial dinner plates, arm lifting to rub off his lips with the back of a hand. "I am so, so sorry!" How much more horrible can one night go for a guy? Here, let me help you with that." He reaches for a clean napkin, not the one Joy used previously and.. a hot burst of energy comes out of his palm, blasting and shattering the beer bottle he just sat down on the counter to pieces, sending beer everywhere.

Oh, that's how it could get worse. "… Shit."

Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn't- but one of Delilah's most ticklish spots is her neck- it's a wonder she has that tattoo. So when he puts his lips there it gets an upward wiggle of a shoulder and a flinch of her head, along with a snicker. Stop that! "It's not about us, it's about courtesy. Too much is awkward for other people.

Awkward being the keyword when she hears Linus spit-taking, and sees the flash, instinctively ducking her head under her arms, elbow knocking Magnes in the chin. What's exploding?!

When it comes to instincts, Abigail isn't the only one who has them. Caliban's fingers are winding around hers before she can move away, grip tight although not painfully so. His throat contracts, swallowing hard, and as he lets out a slow breath through his nose he murmurs lowly against her knuckles, "Don't do that."

What happens next happens so suddenly it isn't until the pistol Caliban carries in his coat has found its way into his hand that he realizes he's going for his weapon. There are shards of broken glass glittering on the counter, on the floor and in the Linderman goon's ruffled hair. His other hand still grasps Abigail's, the edge of his nails biting bluntly into the skin of her wrist with enough force to dimple it.

He doesn't handle surprises very well.

First, Joy sits rigid with her glass of whiskey clutched in her hand, eyes flinching shut instinctively as Linus spits beer on her sweater and exposed skin. And then his beer bottle just exploded? Her hands come up quickly to shield herself, but somehow improbably, it's as if the shattering shrapnel of glass has avoided the woman entirely.

Absently reaching for a fresh - and dry - napkin to dab at her sweater, Joy's gaze stay on Linus, sweeping him from head to outstretched arm. "You're Evolved," she observes in a hushed tone with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. Some women are fascinated by serial killers. Others are into- No, Joy digs serial killers, too. Bad analogy

The glass of liquor is brought to the seemingly unimpressed woman's lips, drained in one swift motion. Her attention now focuses on Caliban, and his weapon. That's enough to put Joy a little ill at ease.

Don't do wha- Oh. Abigail's about to apologize, relax her hand in his that's balled into a fist in its own brand of instinct when there's exploding bottle, glass going everywhere along with the beer. It's enough to send her turning in towards the bar and Caliban, so that glass has her back, leaving little pin pricks and scores of red in its wake across exposed flesh (and tattoo's!), shards in her own hair.

There's the scream of "He's got a gun!" from some very observant individual in the bar who didn't actually see what happened, soon followed by a bunch of others who soon yell the same thing. "Call 911!" "Call the cops! He's trying to fuck with the bartender!" The other bartenders have all ducked for cover, though Brenda's peering above the bar, Abby's shotgun in hand. "What the FUCK boy-o!" She saw it and that brings the red head standing up fully. "If you're a fucking Evo, if you're in here, you control it. If you can't get a handle on it, go outside until you do. We're not a firing range."

Getting an elbow to the chin sends Magnes' head flying back with a wince, just as glass and the breaking of glass is heard. When he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is Caliban's gun, and misunderstandings ensue. There's a rip of his pants, and an M1911 (Company gun) goes flying up into his hand from the strap on his leg, getting pointed at Caliban. Who-what-where? "Drop the gun." he orders with an arm still around Delilah's waist. "Why are people shooting beer bottles?" At least, that's what he thinks is happening.

Linus is about to turn around and apologize again to Joy when a lot of things start happening at once. Somebody draws a firearm, people start screaming and now there's a shotgun pointed at him. It's all a little too much for poor Linus to take. And now somebody else is drawing a gun. He raises his hands up defensively, falling out of his stool and onto the ground with a thud, and then crawls away and to his feet before making a break for the door without so much as a word.

Who's got a gun? Delilah is quick to look around for who is yelling about who, though her attention is drawn to Brenda with a small scowl. "Hey! Be nice! It was an accident! Put that bloody thing away! you'll shoot your eye out. Whu- you too, Buckaroo." Delilah shoves her way out of Magnes' grasp, giving him the next Look. "Cripes, you buncha trigger-happy clots-" She glances after Linus now, as he literally crawls away, frowning.

"Fuck." It's not often that Caliban swears, and when he does he doesn't do it very loudly. He doesn't drop the weapon at Magnes' command, but he wastes no time lowering his arm and popping it back into the holster he wears under his coat. Simultaneously, he releases Abigail's wrist and shoots her an apologetic look across the counter before he follows Linus' lead, pushing through the crowd on his way out the side door.

The business card he carries in his wallet professes him to be a publicist, and publicists — even those employed by the Linderman Group — aren't supposed to tote firearms around New York City. He needs to be gone before he's recognized by someone who isn't Abigail or Brenda.

Joy's expression falls into a scowl, a look Abby's definitely more familiar with. Money is placed on the bar before the woman slides off her chair to calmly excuse herself to the ladies room. Though anyone watching for it won't actually see her exit, Joy Saint-Jacques has definitely vacated Old Lucy's in short order.

There's probably two other illegal gun bearing individuals in the bar. They make breaks for it too since there's at least one person who's dialled 911 trying to do their civic duty. "No one’s doing anything here. Shut it down Magnet." Brenda grinds out, lowering the shotgun. "Everyone's a little twitchy, it's understandable." The shotgun is lowered and slid back to its resting place, Blue slipping into the back to call the cops and warn them that there actually isn't anything wrong with the bar.

Abigail's turning around, hand soothing her wrist where crescent marks were left by the fleeing PR rep. Great. "Brenda, you're in charge. Magnes, calm the hell down," and with that, she's skipping out not far behind the fleeing duo, intent on catching up with Caliban instead.

"Sorry." Magnes nods, the leaning down to slide the gun into its holster, then strap his pants back up. When he's straight again, he stands, pulling pieces of glass from his face. "Delilah, wanna go back to your place? I'm tired and I don't think I can take anymore getting hit in the face, or explosions."

"It's all fine folks!" Brenda hops up on the bar, wielding a bottle of alcohol and lifting it high.

"Just a little love spat! That's all! Tried to get the nun's number!"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License