Scotch on the Shirt (Open)

[garrald steven vickers]

Nightfall had set in the city of the rich and famous and it was normally Garrald's time to be at work standing guard around doorways and walking the floors of one of two nightclubs in town keeping those rich and famous safe from the not so rich and famous, ex-boyfriends and girlfriends, jealous fans, and the every day psychotic drunk. That night in particular, he had taken off and spent most of the day at home reading and thinking on how he was going to find Tommy Ancoletti. He'd been looking for the guy for just over a year and the trail had turned up cold; he just hoped that the rat hadn't went to ground or skipped town in which case it would require another manhunt aross the country that Garrald wasn't looking forward to.

After coming into the club, having been allowed entry through the VIP entrance due to not only his position there but also his last name being that of a well-known corporate leader in New York, though unknown to many, the name was also that of a crime syndicate running through the northeast and through to Italy itself. The young man wasn't one to complain about the perks and simply left them as they were, coming into the crowded club, moving past the dancing patrons over to the bar where he took a seat

"Scotch on the rocks, Jay." While the bartender turned to fix the drink, the young vigilante's eyes combed the room for any sign of the man he was after, or anyone that might know something about him. "Jay... have you seen anyone different come through here. Italian, about five-eight, black hair, smartass and louder than some of the tourists shirts?"

Turning around with the drink and sitting it on the bar in front of Garrald, Jay shook his head, "Nah, man. I haven't seen anyone matching that description other than you, though you're not so loud and taller - but still a smartass so that's what made me think." He laughed, letting the security enforcer know he was kidding before shaking his head, his tone becoming more serious, "All jokes aside, Garrald, I haven't see anyone like that. Why?"

"Nothing," declared the young man taking a sip of the Scotch, "just an old friend that said he'd be coming into town. Let me know if you see him, okay?" He took another sip of the drink and looked down the bar at a couple making out and scoffed then back to the table of girls, before noticing an empty table near the corner and stood up, laid some money on the bar and made his way that direction, though didn't make it too far before one of the dancing, probably drunk patrons bumped into him causing his Scotch to go all over his shirt.

WORDS! 473
STATUS! Complete
TAGS! Open
NOTES! N/A
INSPIRATION! The Killers
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Mr Brightside by The Killers

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[jinx]

Sitting at home all alone could not get any worse. His parent's sat alone at the table discussing the new's about some unfortunate people, his sister was in her room blasting preppy pop music, and well he was all alone wacthing a rerun of Spongebob. The Eighteen year old took ahold of his Iphone and clicked in the password. 6666. It was so easy! Then a message popped up, from his sister, well step-sister. You should really get yourself a new place that way mom and dad would not be there 24/7 and we could do our thing more! Wow! That was probably the best thing he had heard that night. obviously he didn't want to answer, so he clicked the off button and threw his phone onto the empty seat beside him. What could he do?

Then an idea popped in his mind, the club! With a jump Kane was on the carpet and shoving his phone into his jean pockets. The boy grabbed his leather jacket and ran out to his car. It started right away and carried him off.
*************
There he was the time had passed quickly. His hands where in his jacket pocket's fumbling for his ID but he had left it. Already at the front of the line Kane cursed and stared at the bulky man infront of him. He remembered him and hoped that he remembered Kane too. With a satisfying grunt, he let Kane in. Kane smirked and started to make his way past Drunk dancer's and clubsters. At the edge of the group Kane himself began to dance, even if this genre of music was not his type. If mom would have found out about when he was younger and about how he used to sneak in, she would kill, Although to think about, she would still kill him at the moment even if he was the right age.

The club's sweaty atmosphere was gross, he hated that part. The lights shone dowm brightly blinding Kane. It was all a thrill for anybody. Then he got shoved and he felt his body weight begin to tumble, he was sure he would soon feel the cold slap of the floor, when BANG! Kane felt himself hit something much more cushioned. He was wet, he must have hit someone, with a drink. Great he would have stained his new jacket!

"I'm sorry man, some person bumped into me and I fell." He spoke in a low tone, but he said the words all in an awkward rush. Kane awaited for an outburst from the man standing beside him, afterall he had caused his drink to spill all over his clothes, all the same it had spilled on him too. Kane ran a hand in his black hair not messing up the straightened bump, as he called it.

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[garrald steven vickers]

Garrald wasn't really someone to walk around causing unnecessary conflict, but he didn't like having his clothes smell like whiskey all night either which would make any cop at a routine stop believe him to be drinking heavily, which he never did unless at home. Still, police didn't know that due to not being able to read minds, and they likely didn't care anyway; while he knew he'd not go to jail because of passing the sobriety test, it wasn't the hassle. As he looked down at the young man who'd happened to bump into him, he judged him to be way too young to be drinking, and believed he'd seen him in the club before though just in passing and not so much conversation. If he'd really wanted to be mean, he could have had the kid tossed out for underage drinking due to the smell of his clothes, though the former hitman had more morals than that of the common barhopper.

"It's fine," he stated, even though in a low, rather bitter tone it was directed more at the shape of his clothes moreso than an accident. He knew all too well how often people bumped into one another in nightclubs, so could sympathize with the guy. Garrald didn't want to ruin his night of fun before it even got started by yelling at him on the dance floor as if he were some dignitary and a common peasant had scuffed his shoes. "It happens in here from time to time, especially on nights like this with all of the college kids out."

The dark-headed man took another look around the room, once again looking for any sign of Tommy Ancoletti, knowing him to be a man that couldn't resist hot, sweaty college girls that were so drunk they'd sleep with a toilet seat. Alas, no sign of him and it was beginning to get late. Checking his watch, Garrald noted that it was almost a quarter past ten, and any self-respecting clubber would be in the doors for the long haul by that time. Still, he wasn't giving up and ran a hand through his hair while the other adjusted the pistol down the back of his pants; if and when Tommy did show up, he'd put a bullet between his eyes quicker than Fat Tony in New York could inhale a cannoli. "Looking for girls? Most guys are, and believe me, there's plenty. Just be careful, some are married or have boyfriends nearby."

Of course, he was aware he'd lose his job, but with Tommy dead, he'd have no reason to be in LA anyway and would have put his sister to rest. Just about the only thing that could possibly keep him in the city was his niece - the only daughter of his sister, and only piece of her he had left. Despite her being family, and someone he knew he could trust, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to allow himself to be in her life. Garrald was no fool and was too aware of how dangerous his own life was, let alone bringing in a teenage girl for the ride. For that reason was also why he found himself living alone with no cute, well-to-do woman waiting for him at home in fear he'd end up going home to find her in a pool of blood. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone himself.

WORDS! 552
STATUS! Complete
TAGS! Kane
NOTES! Hello
INSPIRATION! The Killers
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution!
LYRICS! Mr Brightside by The Killers

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