Twenty-one

Elijah

East Colfax actually has some pretty great venues if you were wanting to listen to music in a hole-in-the-wall. The kinds of bands that would be playing on a Tuesday night were the kinds of bands that were committed. Sure, they might not have been fantastic, but they were the kinds of bands that played in holes in the wall on a Tuesday night because they yearned for stage time and wanted- desperately, frowningly, achingly wanted to be something. People who played in nameless bars on a Tuesday night weren't the kinds of people who were doing this because they knew the manager or had an in with someone at the venue. No, these were people who were out there because they wanted to prove themselves.

Sometimes, they fell flat on their faces.

Elijah was a really forgiving audience member. Didn't used to be, but then again he was usually in places like this to get trashed because the bar staff didn't check IDs too hard. Not that it mattered anymore, or not like it was going to matter within the next seven hours. Tonight there was to be a requiem. Tonight, he would be laying to rest a well-loved friend. A dear, loving enabler. He wouldn't actually need a fake ID in seven hours. Until then, it was time to reminisce with one Jason Elijah Johnson (age twenty-four) and lay the poor lad to rest.

Best hundred and fifty bucks he'd ever spent.

So, he'd invited people out. A mass text with several replies of WTF ELijah it's Tuesday, I have work in the morning or still trashed from Monday, love you anyway <3 he was there to just… well… Enjoy the night Jeffersonian Democracy had just gotten off the stage- a band that consisted of two rhythm guitarists, a man with an epic beard and an upright bass, a pixie playing the trap set, and a lead singer who occasionally played electric violin. He liked them, maybe wasn't too crazy about the music but he did enjoy the way that the lead singer would occasionally get this wild grin on his face and start off some instrumental that sounded classical. The way that you could just tell that the years and years of mom and dad paying for violin lessons were finally being put to a use the singer liked. He liked the way the drummer looked a little like Animal when they got going. He liked the rhythm guitarists' commitment to the piece and he loved that the bass player was a legitimate performer.

He'd talked to them once. Two customer service associates (rhythm guitar), a hair stylist (drummer), an elementary school music teacher (lead), and a janitor (bass.) They toured in the summer when the lead singer was on break. Opened for someone in Reno, once. Bass player got stabbed by an angry drunk guy, was content to share stories and show off the scar.

A Cherrybomb cover group was going on next, which Elijah took as an opportunity to slide off the dingy sofa in the back. He had on jeans today, left the vest at home for once (felt horribly naked whilst doing so) and shoved his pocket watch in his back pocket. It was, at last, too hot for the extra layers and he had, instead, gone for a tee shirt that had been splattered with fake blood that never quite came out (Evil Dead: the Musical, he'd said, did you know there's a splash zone?). So there were purple and red and maroon fading splatters on his shirt where he'd unexpectedly-yet-totally-expectedly been splashed with buckets (yes, buckets) of chocolate syrup and beet puree.

He meandered up to the bar, rested his elbows on it and waited.

Serafíne

Dan sidles up on his left side, Sera on his right.  Not from the front but from the back where they were shooting the shit with Jeffersonian Democracy, helping them with their gear.  Of course they know each other.  Sera has her arms braced on the bar and she's already ordering something, but Dan eschews the barstools and gives the row of standard cheap American taps a doubtful look, glancing behind him at pair of guys in motorcycle leathers and stupid bandannas heading toward what appears to be a private back room. 

Jeffersonian Democracy isn't staying - there are sitters and work in the morning and a broken-down Subaru Forester to tend to - and no one's really listening to the cover group, either.  Maybe Elijah, okay? 

"What the hell brings you out to a place like this?"

Asks Sera, with a neat little sidelong smirk at Elijah.

"I thought you were studying.  Turning over a new leaf."

We know what she thinks about studying.

Elijah

[Per+alert!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 6, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )

Serafíne

Guy behind you looks dangerous!

Elijah

"I'm a signed tee shirt and appreciative hand job away from being a Jeffersonian Democracy groupie… plus the people watching here is fucking fantastic," he says. Isn't even more than a shot in to the evening. "I'm having a requiem for my fake ID. Figure at midnight I can cut it up and have a burial at sea. I wanted to buy a drink and use my legal name at some point, just to see if it tastes different."

It doesn't. Moving on. His eyes travel to the guys in leathers, just a second. Then, another second- Elijah checks out his exits. Always best to know how fast you might need to get out of a place.

"I've got to go pitch myself again. I'm apparently kind of a hard sell. If things don't work out with people here I've been informed that they're not going to work out." He exhales, slow and deep and he turns to regard his friends. Takes a second to look at the guy behind him, back at the exits. 

"I think maybe we should bail," he said. It didn't sound much like a request. The nerves didn't quite go away, either. Nervous for a different reason now. 

Serafíne

"I'm wondering who is supposed to be getting a handjob in this scenario, because I'm pretty sure that the entire organism that is Jeffersonian Democracy is an organically committed group marriage with no provision for - "

That's Sera, nattering along and reaching for whatever it is she ordered as it is slung back across the bar.  Slung because the barkeep is frowning the same direction as Elijah, though perhaps not with the same dimension.  Beetled gaze fixed on the burly guy headed toward the back room. 

"He's right."  Dan mutters, pulling out his billfold and blindly peeling out a couple of twenties to cover whatever anyone here might think they are owed. His baritone deep enough to cut through Sera's chatter, expressive enough that she stops.  Stops, and flicks him a glance and then she's sliding off the barstool.

--

Front door to the bar opens again.  Tall old man with windburned skin and the ruined mouth of an ex-boxer or meth addict and a shorter, skinnier guy with the twitchy manner of someone jonesing for something.  Bartender's bending low and reaching for something beneath the bar but the old guy pulls out a gun first.

Fires.

Serafíne

Inits!

Serafíne

Guys In the Back: +4

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )

Elijah

[5+1d10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (10) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

Dudes in the Front.  +4

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

Serafíne

Sera: +6

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )

Serafíne

So:

Elijah: 15

Guys in the Back: (including bartender) 12

Sera (And Dan):  7

Dudes in the Front: 6

Serafíne

Old Guy's First Shot: @ Bartender.

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Serafíne

Damage!

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 4 )

Serafíne

Declarations:

1. Skinny Guy: draw weapon, shoot the first person who runs toward the front door (which he is blocking.)

2. Old Dude: shoot bartender again.

3. Big Guy Headed Toward the Back: curse beneath his breath, draw his weapons, keep going toward the back.

Serafíne

Dan: curse, duck, maybe grab Elijah and point out where the back exit is.

Sera: Mind 3 on shooter.  Cause Hallucinations - that gun in your hand is a fucking cobra!

Serafíne

Dudes in the back: start grabbing weapons.

Bartender: crumple beneath the bar.

Elijah

Declare!: 

Jump the bar and cover the bartender (because that guy is in crap shape) 

Elijah

(Declare: clearing the bar and being an active meat shield)

Elijah

[dex2+athletics2=4]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 10, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Sera: Mind 3  Difficulty: 7.  -1 because sympathetic magic (that dude is on drugs);  -1 because of her resonance.  -1 focus (she's gonna scream which is close enough to music so.)

Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Serafíne

(Meant to include WP there! so: four successes!)

Serafíne

(Changing actions: Old dude drops the gun.

Skinny guy changes action to shoot Elijah. )

There's so much happening at once.  Dan ducks, grabs Elijah's elbow, they have to get the fuck out of there, the band is playing and there's this strange little crowd listening and paying no attention and the music is loud so there's this initial refusal to believe your senses, that gunfire is going the fuck down, and then Elijah is leaping over the bar like a stupid little hero and there's a girl screaming and there's blood everywhere.

The old guy at the door doesn't just drop his heavy pistol, he throws it actively away from him and is reactive enough that the big guy headed toward the back door senses something going wrong and stops and starts to turn and the skinny dude beside the old guy guarding the front fucking door gets goddamned jittery and see, there's Elijah the perfect target, jumping over the bar -

he shoots.

Serafíne

Skinny dude: Shoot Elijah.  +1 dif for changing actions.

Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 3, 10) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

Damage

Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (2, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 6 )

Elijah

[uho!]

Serafíne

Okay, er.  New Round. 

1. Skinny guy - train weapon on bartender to keep him away from the gun behind the bar.

2. Old dude - push past skinny guy back onto street.

3. Big guy - push open door to back room.

Serafíne

Dan: you idiot.  Charge the guy with the gun.

Sera: same Mind effect on skinny guy. 

Serafíne

Guys in the Back: Grab the money and run.

Serafíne

Sera's effect: Vulgar with Witnesses: -1 sympathetic (dude is also a druggie) -1 (visceral resonance) -1 focus)

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (3, 4, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Dan: tackle dude?

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 7) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Skinny dude: shoot Dan? +1 for changing actions, +2 for Dan's tackling successes.

Dice: 4 d10 TN9 (2, 2, 8, 9) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

Fuck.  Damage.

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )

Serafíne

MIND GODDAMNIT.  EXTENDING.

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (6, 8, 8) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Chaos, blood, everywhere, and somehow the band is still playing and the ringleader of this little group is still charging through but strangers are starting to react, get on their phones, call 911 and the guitarist has stopped playing but the drummer keeps going like whoa and Sera is both screaming and shaking and crying and pulled in a thousand directions and there's Dan collapsed on the ground, bleeding as the skinny methhead struggles out from beneath him and she's cursing, cursing, cursing ("Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.") and shaking and sinking to her knees beside Dan, pressing her hands to his body where the blood is coming out, kissing him. 

(Life 3: Vulgar as Fuck.)  -1 Focus.

Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (3, 8, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Serafíne

(That was Life 3 / Prime 2: healing lethal.)

Serafíne

And Dan is now Okay.  So: Elijah.  Life 3/Prime 2. Same Dif: 7

Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (2, 4, 4) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Extending: last WP. 

Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (5, 8, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Serafíne

Paradox.

Dice: 16 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 7 )

Serafíne

Soak.

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 9) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

akc.

that is not her soak.

Serafíne

Soak.

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Elijah

[Prone to Quiet, because, y'know, sometimes nearly dying makes you lose track of reality]

Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (1, 1, 4, 5, 6, 9) ( success x 1 )