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Post by Gatekeeper on Jul 3, 2017 11:20:01 GMT -8
Ashlyn catches her in a hug when she finishes handing over the spells, an electric tingle passing between them. "Okay. Good luck, you four."
Ethan grins, fangs showing. He'll probably want to avoid that when it comes to the wolves - and he knows that better than anyone. "Count on it, Red." He takes Val's hand for a moment, before letting her get back to her walker.
Henry checks his gun before holstering it and joining Arielle at the front.
When they pass in through the open door, it takes her eyes a moment to adjust. She can even see Ethan's slits widen to drink in the dim lighting. There's a pool table in one corner, the awful country music in another, and two flat screens that are tuned to ESPN, following a football game. The place is dirty, dingy, and the smell isn't all that great either - hints of stale beer and animal musk. The clientele consists of mostly bikers in their black leather jackets, chains, and rivets, as well as a couple people who look like locals.
The first sign that this isn't a normal bar in the middle of no where and that these barely washed people aren't just normal is the fact that the gender ratio is pretty evenly split. As many women, most robust, fill out jackets as men, and the flaming skull of a wolf is their sign. The bartender, a middle-aged man with a potbelly and a fringe of a scraggly beard, looks up. He has faintly pointed ears, and Wire Nest - game faces on - is acutely aware of the fact that her mother sparred with this very same group, and that her mobility is limited. Ethan's tail flicks, betraying his wariness.
"This ain't really a family place, gent," he says, addressing Henry. "Might be you meant to stop another couple miles down, at the Country Inn."
Arielle folds her arms. She's beautiful, completely at home in a situation like this, with the tips of her long hair stirring in the air from one of the fans. For his part, their dad smiles tightly and steps forward with them towards the bar, his arms bared to display his service tattoos. "Don't suppose it is, and, no, this is exactly where we planned to be."
The wariness level in the room rises a pinch.
The bartender pauses in the midst of cleaning a glass, looking them over.
"Came to the wrong place if you wanted to start shit," one of the bikers says, the woman's voice low and carrying despite the noise.
"We've brought no trouble with us," Henry says evenly. Whether dealing with dogs or military types, the key is never to show weakness or unnecessary threat.
Phoenix glances about, and Wire can see a glimmer to her sister's gaze. She scans everyone in the room. "I don't see a need to be coy here. We're looking to talk to a couple of werewolves. No beef, just need some information."
"Really?" the woman asks, turning around. "Because, now that I think about it, you're familiar, girl. Funny, thought that sort of thing didn't run in families."
Now the tension really ratchets up a notch. Wire Nest isn't sure how many of these people are actually werewolves, but Phoenix has confirmed that there's no Sleepers in the building - which means everyone is probably involved with the pack on some level.
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