hero for hire

[ The turn of his chair leads him back to Xavier. Pax doesn’t blink. It’s funny, granted. Creepy, but creepy is funny to the merchant. Secondary– less effort here leaves more effort to expend elsewhere. He murmurs. ] Right, just sell it as a sex doll. Got it. [ His voice lifts, a foot drops to the floor ready to leave the chair. ] Anything else you interested in? If not, I’ll be headin’ out for some actual contact with the meat batteries. Don’t reckon I can reason with you or the overlords at this point. 

[From mechanical to languid in a split-second, Crane’s face splits into a wide grin.] Lemme know if there’s anyone who’s specifically looking for one in my likeness, I’d be curious. [Not one to hold anyone back, especially if they have other business to attend to, he nods easily.] Tell them I say what’s up. And come back soon---you know how lonely I get here. [It’s a joke, emphasized by how his attention immediately turns to someone else arriving bar-side.]

[What was silence in the growing darkness of the evening light was suddenly, drastically, and loudly broken by a hideous crash and clatter. A very tall, large body was sent flying back and slamming into several tables. Easily knocking them and the chairs over as if they were feather-light as Kaiser was sent crashing back into them and falling onto the floor with a snarl and a hard ‘oomph’.

The silence returned for a spare second before a gravelly snarl erupted and the large German pushed himself to stand.]

“Arschgesicht!!!”

[His face, sharp and angular and usually in some expression of arrogance and amusement was a frightening sight. Blood gushing from an already crooked, long nose and streaming down his face, matting his dark beard and reddening his neck. His expression was twisted into one of fury and hideous surprise as Kaiser stood, wobbling slightly in his attempt to get his balance, cold blue eyes narrowing with dangerous intent on the offensive party as his teeth flashed in an ugly, cold smile behind all the blood.]

“That was a fucking mistake.”

[It’s not the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, he’s sure. Crane’s eyes follow the arc of a body through the air with apathetic acknowledgement, blinking in response to the crash. He lopes from behind the bar, not in a hurry to get in the middle, but his livelihood’s at stake here, man.]

[There’s a Colony-assigned guard, bigger and broodier than Crane, who’s stepping in as well. Crane jerks his head to indicate he take the further man, as he goes towards the one who went down.]

[Crane doesn’t get too close---best not, unless he needs too. The guy’s heavier, for sure he can handle himself in a fight. And an Infected, which Crane doesn’t underestimate. He’s got his guard up, though he really isn’t bothered if he has to use force. It would actually feel good to let loose, but not great for his reputation, probably. He scratches his chin idly, in complete contrast to the aggressive atmosphere.]

[A ship from Portugal to this Colony seemed like a good way out. He wasn’t planning on leaving, but to think they had some contact with the European mainland was interesting. There were Colonies on European soil, he was certain of that, if England already counted a few, than a much larger piece of land would have a lot more.] 

No probably not. [He felt horrible for bringing up this subject, it was obviously not helping the mood. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to walk through the wastes of a different country, different countries, and trying to find some way back home, although it was clear that this wasn’t his home, but America was even further away. If what Teilo had told him was correct, that would take Crane weeks, just to get there by ship. Not to mention the distance back to his family.] 

Sorry, I didn’t mean to make the conversation into such bummer. 

[Feeling a bit bad about letting that one glass go to waste, Zach almost felt the urge to ask for it back and drink it even though he didn’t like it, but seeing the way Crane thoughtfully took it back, he had the feeling he wasn’t the only one fearing things gone to waste. He took the new glass with a grin.] Oh, and less is more. [He added, before taking a sip.] Yes, this is the good stuff. 

[To hear an apology for what’s a pretty standard conversation in his books is almost funny. He’s never been upset by hearing bad news, or telling it---maybe it’s a defect in him, but he’s just comfortable with harsh situations. And so far, life’s gone on, even if it has been decimated. The day it stops doing that, maybe he’ll sit up and re-evaluate how disturbing it all is, but until then... Crane shakes his head, slowly, and tosses on a reassuring grin.] You didn’t, at all. 

[He takes up his rag---there’s always something to do with his hands while he talks, which he likes, and this week’s distraction has been to try and remove the possibly permanent stickiness from the counter. So he smudges a spot around absently, adding with cheerful aplomb:] The bright side is, I’m not afraid of doing it again if I have to. Think it’d take something worse than an apocalypse to make me unsettled. Like, I dunno---sun explodes, that’d shake me. Ocean evaporates, might break a sweat.

Now you’re thinking like a businessman. It’s all about turnover, right? Supply and demand. Step one: increase inventory, step two: decrease prices, step three: profit. Basic economics, mate. And hey, I could even be your covergirl. Imagine your booze behind the counter, and this face sitting on top of it.

[She taps the bar playfully, taking a sip of her beer. His banter isn’t without a healthy wit, and gets her to laugh.] What, you’re not up to speed on the ancient English? It’s like you were raised in a barn. Or a pub. I’ll need to see your credentials. [She lifts her hands in mock defense, shaking her head.] Don’t let me get in the way between you and your charm. I’d be more than entertained to sit here and drink my beer and watch you schmooze the pants off your own arse.

[That gets a chuckle. A businessman, huh---well, he hasn’t ever thought of himself that way... but close enough. He’s more like a labourer, in a company of one. There’s not much selling involved when the business is as straightforward as his, he just fixes problems if people need something (or someone) fixed. Price is negotiable, but usually he profits.] 

[From behind the counter he lifts up a nearly-done bottle of whiskey, to hold at eye level, measured looks back and forth from her sunny smile to the half-intact label. He gives a satisfied nod.] Let’s get it done, yeah! I’m thinkin’ we go classy retro, like pin-up style, polkadots and nets—but tasteful, of course. [He stashes the bottle back where it came from, within easy reach.] But you should be the manager, covergirl—that plan’s more than I’ve seen anyone think through around here. And I do like the sound of step three, not gonna lie.

San Francisco born and raised, actually---no barns around but I guess I didn’t have to think too hard before 'work at a bar’ popped into my head. [She’s quick with her words, and smart about it. But confident, which he takes to immediately. The banter rolls off her like warm droplets from skin, when you stand in a river on a hot day---smooth, and the sort of effortless that makes everything lighter, more refreshing.] I like to think I’ve gotten less desperate for my own attention, but nice you’re ready to be entertained by me making an idiot of myself.

[Ana laughed] No, not rude at all. I am praeteric, kind of like invisibility but not exactly. It is hard to explain but I imagine you have heard about it, yes? [She shrugged,] Aside from the people around here, it is not so bad. Pretty useful actually. If only I had it in my old life, now that would have been fun.

[The corner of her lips twitched upward as he poured her another. Only three more before she could call this endeavor successful. Ana took the glass and waited patiently for him to pull out another. She had a feeling he wouldn’t refuse.] It’s only bad if you think about it. [She winked.] Cheers comrade [Ana said jokingly thickening her accent before throwing the shot back.]  

But I am thinking about job. It would give me something to do, if you wouldn’t mind asking. [She said smiling softly at him. Maybe she was trying to butter him up a little bit, didn’t hurt her chances. Plus perhaps they would be co-workers one day.] For now though, we drink. [She smiled mischievously, playing with her empty glass on the counter. Ana felt like herself for the first time in a very long time. It felt nice to relax a little but maybe that was just the vodka talking.]

[Praeteria---aka the motherlode. Telekinesis is flashier, but he’s got admit the power to evade notice is what he’s most jealous of, with all the ones he’s heard about. Probably wouldn’t help public perception of ones like Ana if he had it, because stereotypes is that praeteria makes you a thief or worse, and he’d absolutely use it for worse if he had it. He raises an eyebrow curiously at how she says she’d have had fun with it.] Imagine you could find some entertainment, yeah. Or even make a pretty penny, in certain circles---if that’s the kind of thing you’re interested in, of course. 

[His grin turns mischievous, intentionally. Befriending people with this particular gift can only benefit him, if they’re willing to use it. And she seems like she might be just the type to be into something more exciting than strictly following Colony rules. He’s sure it works out for Pax, though he’s yet to see it in action---or not see it---whatever.]

[He points over to her shot as she lifts it.] So, this is your third. [It’s actually her fourth.] Any more and... [Cue the puppydog eyes.] Well, I could lose my job. So...they’d have an opening for a new bartender? It’s a risk for me or an opportunity for you, depends how you look at it. But, cheers. To tryin’ everything once.

[A raise of the glass, and the shot’s tossed gracelessly back. It hits his throat quick, mostly missing his tongue, but it still bites and scorches going down. Crane wrinkles his nose and a choked gasp comes out reflexively. He gives his head a good shake, once.] Nope, you said ‘don’t think’ and here I was, thinking ‘bout it the whole time. I only ever learn the hard way it seems.

[Ana paused to consider what he had just said. It did sound kind of fun and she would meet more people that way. However she did not know if she could hold a job being infected or with her security status.] Really? Do you think I could still work even though I have security status and infection? [She asked, revealing a lot about herself in that one sentence but she didn’t want to get her hopes up if it wasn’t an option. She was lucky to only have a security status of 2, if they knew the truth she’d probably be in some maximum security prison colony. Plus even if they didn’t have the record of her one prison stint she’d still be classified as that due to her infection.] 

[He had a point, she couldn’t be the only one who wanted something she wasn’t directly asking for. Ana wondered how many people at the colony weren’t who they said they were.] You realize this working here? I imagine lot of people would tell you their life story after few drinks. [That would be one perk of working at the bar, she thought to herself.]

Can I have another? [She said gesturing to her glass.] You should join me.

[The question about protocol, with her being Infected and everything, forces his shoulders to raise helplessly, but he’s still smiling.] No idea, honestly. But I don’t mind asking for you, if you’re actually thinking ‘bout it. 

[The whole idea of separating people based on Infection was beyond stupid. Some of the Uninfected were far more dangerous---naming no names---and some of the Infected he’d met seemed pretty much like super-powered bunny rabbits. It meant next to nothing about what anyone was actually capable of.] Which power do you have, anyway---or is it rude to ask that? [Some of them he’d make swift use of if he had one himself, that’s for sure.]

People do tend to open up---I just catch whatever falls out. I try to take good care of what ends up in my hands. [Including gossip, secrets, sometimes credits if he’s lucky, or a job. But it sounds more noble if he leaves it nice and vague.]

[Ana’s face is made of soft curves when it’s still and quiet, but everything behind her eyes speaks mischief as she asks for another drink. Crane leans over and swipes her glass quickly back to him, chuckling.] Well, yeah. You’ve only had one, right? I’m not great at the whole counting thing. [He pours her ‘second’ and after a moment, reaches down to pull another glass out for himself. He eyes it skeptically, but he already knows he’ll do as she suggests. He’s too entertained to refuse.] Don’t usually like the taste, but vodka just means ‘little water’, right? How bad can that be?

It sounds much better than saying you walked around for four years. [Zach concluded. He imagined walking around by himself for all those years. Especially with the new information that the bartender has started all the way in Egypt, walking through a variety of South European countries where people barely spoke any English.] 

[He nodded, although he had a hard time understanding it, or at least trying to place himself in the other’s shoes. Maybe because he wasn’t expecting this story, it felt elaborate, but it sounded true.] Right. [He needed a second to process it. He never liked soldiers, but he always tried to look beyond the “soldier” image and look at the person. Although he still didn’t like soldiers. Because war was useless and the people fighting it were not helping. Especially not when war was fought in other countries, far away from the home country of those deployed.] So, you’ve seen a lot of Europe before you got here, I am guessing. Is the situation any better? Or more the same? [Despite not liking soldiers, Zach did see an opportunity to learn. He had no idea what was going on in the world, and had few means of satisfying his curiosity.] 

[Back to the syrup lemon water, Zach inspects the glass and takes a sip. Oh man, he should’ve just gone with the plain water. Once again, he can’t help his face from reacting to the soury-sweet taste invades his mouth, resisting the urge of pushing the glass back over the counter.] The syrup didn’t help. [He concluded, then looked up and grinned like an idiot because he felt horrible for not liking the drink and having the bartender do a thankless job of trying to mix the drink.] Sorry. 

[What Zach thinks of his former profession, he doesn’t say, but Crane suspects a distaste---fair enough, he hadn’t been too fond of it, either. When he asks how it compares, Crane ponders the question for a minute.] Hard to say---I didn’t stop on the main island, came straight here from Portugal by ship, so I don’t know what it’s like for England on the whole. 

But every place I’ve been, pretty much operating the same? People grouped together, working with what they can find, and who they can find. Can’t imagine it’s better or worse, really. [Everywhere he’s been, every language he’s tried to decipher, the similarities were what saved him. The universals. Everyone is in want, that’s the constant. It’s the great communicator, need. A dialect he’s become fluent in, by necessity.]

[When the bartender admitted to the lack of name brand Pepsi, Isha didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. Off-brand Cola just wasn’t the same, but with her only other options being water or another off-brand soda, Isha simply nodded.] Okay, that will be fine. [The girl turned to the small messenger bag she carried with her and pulled out a copy of ‘Anna Karenina’ setting it down on the bar top in front of her. She looked up at the man as he asked her about her ice preference and smiled politely.] Ice would be nice, thank you.

[Isha ran her fingertip along the pages of the book, remembering that she had come to the pub to socialize, not dig her nose in a book that she had already read a million times. She looked up at the bartender.] What did you say your name was, again?

[He saw her face fall, and made a mental note to talk to Pax about procuring some name brand products---names that people actually recognized---the next time they hung out. He didn’t comment as she nodded, and brought out a hefty book, which she laid down. His eyes caught the title as he prepped her glass.] Hey, I recognize that one. Never read it, though. Is it any good? [All he knows is Anna dies in the end, but he’s not gonna spoil it if she doesn’t know about that.]

[Ana thought about it for a moment, she realized she had never really had a real job before. Her whole life she stole, smuggled, killed, did whatever else for money but she had never had a manager. Well, unless her brother counted. That thought made her smile.] I never have had actual job before. Bartending seems kind of fun though. [She wasn’t sure if fun was the right word but serving alcohol really didn’t seem that bad. It was surprising to her that they even had a bar here.]

[She tossed back the second shot, gently setting the glass down on the bar. She didn’t ask for another knowing he could deny her at any moment because of her security status. 2 drinks was it? Not enough to get her tipsy is what it was. Stupid colony…Ana shrugged in response to his question.] I don’t know…I had complications when I first arrived but now they are settling down. Not much to do really.

[Never had a job---it leaves a few questions as to why. She doesn’t seem like the privileged, feet-up type of person who’s never needed a job, so maybe she had someone taking care of her, or maybe she found other ways to take care of herself. Then again, maybe it’s none of his business.] It’s good, yeah. Few things to learn, but it’s not too stressful once you get the basics down. I can put in a word if you wanted to try it out. [He adds, half-joking---but he really would, if she asked. He likes this girl, her straight face and sharp eyes.]

I think boredom’s the real killer around here. [He nods agreeably, leaning his forearms on the counter.] Gets people into all sorts of situations, all on its own. Nothing to do but what we’re told, fill the hours---and some of us aren’t so good at following directions. [Added with a sly smile, implying that he’s in that category.] 

Looks pretty calm on the surface, but everyone’s out for somethin’ and that hasn’t changed, so... Once you figure out what people really want, you see the real place... [Crane swipes a hand, horizontally with his palm up, slowly cutting the air like revealing a lower level.] Hidden, just a little out of sight.

[He first narrows a skeptical expression Crane’s way, at the comment about the ghost.] What’s happened before? You talkin’ to a ghost? Or someone dying…? ‘Cuz like, I’m either gonna say ‘no shit?’ or ‘no shit.’ [The first sounds like a semi-disbelieving question of intrigue, the second, a deadpanned sarcastic drawl. 

And then he’s shifting that skeptic look to the glass being pushed his way.]  Not gonna lie to ya, mate, this looks fuckin’ rank. I feel a bit like you should be offerin’ me creds to drink this on a fuckin’ dare. But I mean, don’t wanna be ungrateful for nuthin’. 

[With a casual shrug, he shoots half the drink back in a swift gulp… and makes a face as the glass it on its way back down, still half-full.]

Bloody he—Well. That… goes down with a fight, lemme tell ya. But I reckon it’ll grow on me. 

[Crane shrugs off Corbin’s skepticism.] I spent a lot of time on my own out there. There are stranger things than being visited by the dead, awake or asleep. It can happen, and I’ve been falling into a routine... [Something that always makes him suspicious of his mental state.] Could be I’ll wake up in a second, and find out you actually didn’t make it---I’m not closing any doors.

[Spiritually speaking, he’s always left everything wide open, in his mind and in what he’s willing to believe. Proof doesn’t always hold up, given time, and he doesn’t tie himself down to one set of beliefs on how existence works. He does know that he’s not smart enough to have any answers, so he relies on none.]