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 Old Chandeliers And Scratched Up Forty-fives, molly | edgar
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The slightly-shabby Upper Eastside bar was far from Jan’s favourite place, but at least it was...well, it was a bar. They served alcohol. On any given night, someone seeking a drink stood a more-than-even chance of making it in and out without finding Trouble, and in Jan’s new life that was about all he could ask for. He saw enough Trouble at work without actively seeking it out.

Hm. His new partner would like it well enough, at least. Jan knew little about the man beyond the information in the skimpy file he’d been given, but he was certain that anyone from a lower-class background wouldn’t want anything to do with the upscale bars Jan had frequented in his Old Life. The man would feel out of place! He wouldn’t know what to order!

The man wouldn’t know what to wear, either, and if there was one thing Jan had become painful aware of over the last few years, it was that clothes could be painfully expensive. Clothes! Simple things to cover your body with! Who would have thought it? It all seemed a bit unfair to Jan, really. If he ever returned to the Sky Level, he would pitch a few of his new ideas to his more generous peers: Fashion for the Destitute. Hm. No. That didn’t have much of a ring to it, did it? Outfits for the Down-and-out. Shit. He’d think of something, anyways.

Tonight, Jan’s focus would remain squarely on his new partner. His new Edgerunner. He’d been dubious at first, but the more he pored over the man’s file, the more certain Jan was that this Edgar Bloom could not possibly be all that bad. The man hadn’t volunteered, exactly, but he’d seen the light. And the poor man had lost his old handler, which would be a shock to anyone! Jan admired Edgar for his resolve. His courage! If Jan had to be paired with any Edgerunner, he was certain this man was the best of the lot.

Ed would certainly be impressed by Jan’s cunning and secrecy, too. A good handler ought to be able to blend into any crowd, and Jan was doing his best.

If Jan drew a few curious stares as he sidled over to the booth currently claimed by one Probably-Edgar-Bloom, according to the file photo Jan had studied, it was a testament to the efficacy of his disguise. No one would suspect a man in a form-fitting, exquisitely tailored, flamingo pink shirt of being an agent, would they? Of course not! And Jan’s sunglasses hid his features, in addition to being extremely cool. Even in this dim light.

At last, Jan made his entrance, his glowing pink margarita in hand. The effect, achieved by the addition of an LED-embedded ice cube, was nearly as beautiful as Jan’s shirt.

“Ow,” said Jan, bumping into the corner of Bloom’s table. He shifted to the side and sat with only the faintest, most manful wince of pain. Damned sunglasses! “Hello.” Better! He glanced at his new partner’s drink appraisingly. There was a lot one could learn from a man by his drink of choice, thought Jan, sleuth extraordinaire. “Whiskey?”

tagged: edgar bloom

player maddy
age 31
pronouns she/her
time zone GMT -5
Permalink / Apr 15 2018, 03:51 PM
corp-sec
Quote
The file hadn’t offered much: a name, a record, but not even a photograph. Pfaugh! Ed had discarded the manila file without much interest, benighted stubbornness incarnate. His eyes had fallen upon Ritter, and that had been the end of it. Godawful Sky City family. What more was there to say?

Well now. There might’ve been a photograph. Scowling into the amber warmth of his drink, it occurred to Ed that there were a great many things he didn’t care for in this world, and Jan Ritter’s face ranked chief among them. It’d be gone before long, if Ed had any say in the matter. Gone, extinguished in an end as suspicious as Gallu Hewitt’s.

Acrid rebukes echoed between his ears now, in spite of himself. He drained the rest of his drink in an effort to fend them off, heedless of similar reprimands for drinking on the job, Bloom, you should know better, and lifted his hand for another. A healthy bit of inebriation was necessary, Ed resolved. A hazard of the job, or a precaution. If nothing else, it’d make the monstrosity that awaited him in Jan Ritter bearable, or at least numb him to the man’s inherently, inevitably infuriating habits.

Before he could establish any of this, however, a chronic eyesore loomed into his line of vision.

“Er,” Ed replied, blankly, looking between what could only be described as a carbuncle of a shirt and the drink in question.

Good God, the idiot even wore sunglasses.

A handsome idiot, at that, and had the man’s taste in clothing not positively bellowed Elite – had Ed not ostensibly been working, much to his dismay – he might’ve agreed. Whiskey. The fellow meant to buy him a drink, obviously. A Flirt.

When the man sat, Ed shifted his chair a fraction further from the lurid glow of that drink. It looked positively radioactive. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said, taking a pointed sip of his whiskey. “I’ve got plenty left. You might’ve been able to see, if you’d taken off your sunglasses.” Ed tempered the blow of his rejection by imparting what he considered an exceedingly valuable scrap of counsel. This git looked as if he could do with all the help he could get.

tagged: jan ritter
player molly
age 24
pronouns she/her
time zone GMT
Permalink / Apr 16 2018, 04:28 AM
edgerunners
Quote
Hm. Bloom had a point. The sunglasses really were making it a bit difficult to, er, navigate. Jan maintained that they were an excellent and understated disguise, but he had to admit that his unaugmented eyes weren’t adjusting as well as they might. The depths of Bloom’s glass remained murky and obscure, its contents uncertain. Jan had chosen his own violently violet drink on that basis alone.

Well. Mostly on that basis.

Yielding to his new partner’s wisdom, Jan removed his sunglasses at last and set them down on the table, where they would most likely be forgotten as soon as Jan worked his way to the bottom of his radioactive margarita. Perhaps he should have chosen a beer instead. Perhaps he should have chosen a different outfit. Judging by Bloom’s choice in clothing, Jan should have gone with something a little more...noir. Then again, no one glancing at the two of them would think: Edgerunner and Agent. Jan didn’t know what that hypothetical observer might think, but he was certain they wouldn’t suspect even a sliver of the truth.

“It is rather dark in here,” Jan observed. That was the least of his many fine, keenly-observed observations about this moderately-grubby bar. The thing about detecting, really, the thing that your ordinary civilian would never understand, was that you couldn’t turn the instincts off. Jan Ritter of Corp-Sec was a finely-tuned policing machine. “How long have you been waiting? Have you seen anyone interesting?”

Was it too soon to ask? Probably, but Jan was certain that his new partner was just as eager as he was to make their mark. Bloom had lost his old partner to Crime, after all! After a short time in purgatory, waiting for his new assignment, poor Bloom would be chomping at the bit to get back out there. The possibility of finding Insurgents in this very bar was probably too much to ask for, but Jan remained optimistic. Bloom would have Instincts, after all. Bloom had spent enough time in the underground to know an Insurgent when he saw one.

tagged: edgar bloom

player maddy
age 31
pronouns she/her
time zone GMT -5
Permalink / Apr 16 2018, 09:42 AM
corp-sec
Quote
At last, away with the bloody sunglasses. Their absence, however, didn’t ingratiate the man in Ed’s regard so much as it highlighted the chronic absence of any other redeeming qualities.

Well. Not entirely true: the fellow was handsome, though whether this was simply enabled by the fuzzy, low glow of the bar lights or even by the whiskey Ed was steadily working his way through, he didn’t know. He supposed it was likely. Picking up blokes in bars wasn’t beyond Ed’s pride, though, and he considered himself something of an expert in discerning the hopeless from the hopeful. The handsome from the godawful.

A man’s face could only go so far, however. A man’s face could only go so far as the idiot connected to it; Ed’s eyes narrowed appropriately now, regarding the man with some suspicion. He was asking far too many questions.

“I haven’t been here for very long. Not long enough to notice anyone, yet. Why? See something you’re interested in?” Ed ventured, tilting his chin now to meet the man in a daring look. Let him come out and say it! Now wasn’t the time for deflection. Now wasn’t the time for company at all, quite frankly.

Ritter was late, anyway. A brisk glance at his watch – old, cracked, repaired more times than Ed would care to admit with this fellow augmented up to the eyeballs as he was, Skinwatch and all. It glowed dimly nearby, as if to taunt that the only meeting Ed would achieve that evening was wholly unwanted. As far as he was concerned, his countenance didn’t so much as whisper welcoming, never mind bellow it across a thronging bar. A noisy bar, at that. Dark, almost gloomy, if one didn’t imbibe enough alcohol. Lurid Shirt Man must’ve been staring for some time to pick Ed out from the crowd. The thought was far from flattering.

tagged: jan ritter

player molly
age 24
pronouns she/her
time zone GMT
Permalink / Apr 17 2018, 12:56 PM
edgerunners
Quote
When it came to spotting your basic criminal, Jan thought he was top-notch. He was also quite good at spotting unruly drunks and people who thought that parking rules applied only to other people. When it came to insurgents, though, Jan didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know what would drive someone to rebel against the system. He didn’t know what to look for. An insurgent might look like any ordinary person—might look, for example, like Edgar Bloom.

It was fortunate that Bloom, with all of his criminal experience, was on Jan’s side.

The man’s question was obviously a first test of sorts. Jan had no objections. After losing his first partner, Bloom was no doubt keen to determine whether his new handler was up to scratch. Jan met Bloom’s Significant Look for a moment before turning his head, scanning the bar for prospective interesting people.

Hm. The few people who stood out were too obviously weird to make decent insurgents, to Jan’s mind. The man across the room with the eye-searing green light tattoos crawling over his skin, for example. He drew attention, but Jan didn’t think a man like that would be much use in an operation requiring any sort of subtlety. The woman in the drab clothing reading some sort of musty old paper book at the bar was also bizarre enough to catch Jan’s eye, given her surroundings, but he thought her more likely to be the victim of some sort of world-shattering breakup than an insurgent in waiting.

Jan returned his attention to Bloom with a shrug and an easy grin. If he’d failed this first test, so be it. He was ready to soak up Bloom’s knowledge. “No one more interesting than you,” Jan said. Ha, ha. Bloom was a mostly innocent man. “D’you have any suggestions?”

Unlikely. Jan had chosen this bar for its more-or-less neutral location, not its (non-existent) reputation as a hotbed of insurgent activity. Still, there was always the chance that Bloom had seen something Jan hadn’t, and Jan wouldn’t mind diving right into the deep end. He was eager to come to grips with his new assignment. It was much more important than Jan’s last assignment. Much more vital! Parking violations did not enter into it anywhere!

tagged: edgar bloom
player maddy
age 31
pronouns she/her
time zone GMT -5
Permalink / Apr 18 2018, 01:44 PM
corp-sec

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