2393/Night at the Wick

Night at the Wick
Date of Scene:	09 July 2020
Location:	The Wick
Synopsis:	Blake & Blake meet, share drinks, words and beat down some assassins.
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Blake, Blake Riviere

---

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is having a rough night. His associate is mad as hell at him, the man who agreed to hack several AIM laptops is missing. The world's best tracker has come up empty so far. So, the Wick it is. Thomas gets a Beck's and settles in at the bar and most people give him a wide berth after seeing the flash of violence in his bright green eyes. He knocks the first Beck's back and orders another, ponders his life choices.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Blake Riviere was looking...decidedly normal. At least compared to her usual gothic attire she tended to favor. Less leather and ribbons, more slacks and a button-up blouse under a simple suit jacket...although she'd retained one of her ribbons to tie her raven-colored hair back in a simple ponytail. Such was the nature of one of the rare moments with more 'official' contacts, but favors here and there kept immortality a little more comfortable. Plus she had promised Ariah assistance after all.

The Wick had grown as one of Blake's preferred places to find herself both kinds of drink, thus here she was pushing through the door towards the bar itself.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake notices Blake coming in. Something about the way she carries herself spells danger. Okay he met one assassin in this bar already and one snotty Mutant Telepath. He'd probably do better at one of the bars in the Dark Market. He had a few attempts by paid assassins lately. The ones from Madripoor were C- but they were getting better as his antagonists took his measure. He keeps his eyes on her and lets him know she was on his radar. No females sent to kill him yet. Word was there was a charmer from Zandia asking around though.

Blake Riviere has posed:
There's myths, stories, half-truths and variations all over the place when it comes to vampires. One of the most common was that they only drank blood, and while it wasn't true for Blake it certainly worked for camoflague. She looked perfectly normal, even as she moves to signal with a hand and place her drink order.

Whatever she was here for, it didn't -seem- to be to kill Thomas, but what sort of assassin would advertise, right? She looks up, glancing sidelong at the man and quirking her lips to the slightest ghost of a smirk. "Is there something on my face?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake lifts his bottle of beer in a toast and says, "Only a smile." The green eyes still flash. 'Excuse me, I'm not exactly sociable. I had a few reverses in my work this week." He stops the barkeep and tells him, "The lady's next drink is on me." The barkeep goes to see what Blake wants. Thomas keeps the woman and the server in his peripheral vision as he takes another sip. The thing about out of town assassins is they can whack you in front of your Church congregation and then take a plane to Symkara and vanish.

Blake Riviere has posed:
A laugh, but she shrugs her shoulders lightly and gives a nod of thanks as her drink turns up without her having to part with her own money. Always a nice way to start. Tracing her delicate fingers with their painted nails along the glass' surface she gives the man a once-over once more with those deep blue irises of hers. "Setbacks?" she questions, the tones of her accent carrying a little 'Queen's English' behind them that marked her as a foreigner well enough. "A shame. But we all have a rough day now and then..."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake nods. "True that. I'm Thomas Blake." He holds out a very rough hand to her. She no doubt can see the numerous old healed scars on it and on his face and throat. Most people can't in dim lighting. Most women let their eyes linger elsewhere.

Blake Riviere has posed:
She could see it, the wounds were hard for her to miss. A curiousity, far more interesting than other distractions if only for how eerily similar they were to the scars of another she knew. The hand was taken, a light squeeze and a polite shake before it was withdrawn offering no hint to the real strength of those deceptively delicate digits. She had plenty of practice playing 'normal' after all.

"Blake Riviere," she offered in return before tilting her head, a little smile of mirth at her name coincidently matching his own surname. "Are you a soldier Mr Blake, or something similar? You remind me of someone I know..."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake chuckles. "I've done security work. I've been a professional hunter. I'm still a professional gambler. I guess I can adequately be described as a bum." He watches the eyes as he takes her hand. You can gauge a person's interest if you're savvy? Is she here to kill him? No. An out of towner would have made their move and be dead already. Someone from around here would probably go for a sniper shot since he dealt with the last three. Also Jade was the only killer he heard of with such perfect nails and only because she often made deadly use of them. This woman's hands were too tiny for that.

He ponders what his fidelity to Satana is worth. Being faithful to a half demon? Actually it's the woman half he's worried about. She is lovely. "Are you... French?" he ventures? The name, the slightest of inflections. He's been around a lot of accents. French is lingua franca in much of Africa.

Blake Riviere has posed:
There was a hunger for Blake, but for the moment it was sated enough not to be distracting. A willing donor for the evening would be enough, but she wouldn't truely be -thirsty- for a few hours yet. For now, she was quite content to enjoy the drink in her hand. It might offer her no nourishment, but some things were worth indulging in just for the pleasure of it.

His question makes her raise a brow, but there's a little shrug of her shoulders and a tilt of her head. "You would be suprised how few make that connection without an accent to offer a clue. Quite observant of you Thomas..."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake nods. "Not so much the accent as the name and the way you hold the drink. The French have an elegant way of drinking, I've seen. they are also good losers at baccarat. I had this one fellow from Texas who swore I was a cheater and try to snap a croupier stick and stab me with it in Algiers. You have quite beautiful eyes."

Blake Riviere has posed:
A soft laugh, her hand comes to her lips. Another clue of culture, even if it was simply an indicator of some upper-class upbringing. Wiping a finger across her painted lips, that smile remains. "Well, you are in no danger of such stabbings here, especially if the compliments and drinks continue."

A little shift, she leans forwards. She might not be dressed in the usual skirts, stockings or other outfits generally intended to catch and draw the eye, but one didn't shed the 'cues' of behaviour as easily as they did clothing.

"You're quite the well-travelled man from the sounds of things. What brings you to New York?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake leans in a little and says in a mock conspirator's tone, "Assassins are trying to kill me. If I went to Metropolis they would use giant robots. If I go to Gotham they'd have freeze rays or killer plants or exploding penguins. I figured the crooks in New York are pretty down to Earth about it. So what do you for a living?" He drapes one truly large and rough hand over her tiny one.

Blake Riviere has posed:
A blink, a tilt of her head and a giggle at his seeming jest. "Ah, you and the Justice league both, no? But New York is not without its own great share of strange. That, and quite a few wonderful restaurants." Another sip, her drink is emptied and set aside while her other hand is caught by his own but does not yet pull away. "I am a...dancer, ballet. But it is more a passion than a living."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake ahs with some new even higher regard for her. She is exquisite to be sure. He pulls his hand away, slowly. Then says, "You shouldn't go any further with me. I am seeing a woman already and jokes and japes aside, I am a very bad man. The two men who just came in are not quite as bad as me but still no good. Get away now because stuff is going to go down. I'm going to try to take is outside. I like this bar. Please get up and leave now."

He turns around and walks to meet the men. He gives them a sharp look, then looks towards the door. There seems to be an agreement made. The first backs to the door, but the second walks over to Blake and says softly yet harshly, "Come with me now or you will get cut, across your face. Walk with your new friend for a bit and then we will let you on your way." He claps one hand on her forearm discretely.

Blake Riviere has posed:
There's a laugh to his words, a little wave of her free hand as he speaks and a faux-innocent pout to her features. "Ah Thomas, you are speaking of intentions that could easily be uncertain and..." she trails off, because the moment for her teasing banter passed with the introduction of the new men and their threats. How curious...

She'd contemplated sneaking to see more and investigate for herself, but a hand on her forearm offered a front-row seat. How fun...

No words, she simply moves as guided. Perhaps a smarter person would find nerves for the fact she didn't fight, nor seem paniced. But she was banking on their focus being elsewhere. Perhaps she'd be seeking another drink sooner than she thought...dinner and a show...

Thomas Blake has posed:
It is fairly easy to slip out of the Wick, one of the things Thomas loves about it. In the back alley the first assassin shoves him hard between the shoulder blades and is puzzled as the big man seems to go down. More precisely Thomas bends at the waist, so quickly the killer behind him is over balanced and falls forward. He is thrown over the shoulder by Thomas, even as the cat like man pulls his own knife from the small of his back. The killer lands hard and gets a foot on his throat. Thomas spares a look at the second, ready to throw his blade...

Blake Riviere has posed:
An arm on her forearm was a great way for someone to try and exercise some physical control on a shorter woman. It was also completely useless when that woman was essentially 'Dracula' in more feminine package. The thug had time to be startled by Thomas' sudden movement, the impact of his companion with the floor...then his hands were empty and his 'prey' was behind him with a smirk on her lips. It would be so easy to sink her fangs in and drain the would-be killer dry right there, but that didn't quite hold the same appeal and wouldn't make the greatest of intentions.

A sudden shove of her hand and he simply bounces head-first off the nearby wall.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake finishes with his man quickly, grabbing his hair and using it to slam his head into the pavement. The knife stays in his hand. He knew there was something about this one. Her escort is out cold. He gives him a kick in the head to make sure as he approaches her and asks, more calmly than he feels, "Succubus?" He tries to keep his voice polite. The knife isn't quite pointed at her. "I'm actually fond of demonesses, one at least."

Blake Riviere has posed:
Quite the question, but it's one met with yet another shrug of her shoulders. "Not quite, but I have been called that more than once..." She could play dumb, explain the man's injuries away, but she doesn't bother. Instead those deep blue eyes of hers shift, drifting to a faintly luminescent deep red. "Demoness too...although I think the closest word is 'Vampire'."

Those eyes fade back to blue, point made and her fangs seemingly absent as she crosses her arms at her bust. "But do not worry, I have no intention of harming you...and you've already given me a drink."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake straightens and puts the knife away. He gives a little bow and stands up to regard Blake carefully. He points to the men on the ground and says, "Everyone has to eat. I'll have to trouble you to wait a few moments. I want to search them, find out what I can." He bends down to do just that coming away with their wallets, a couple of ugly looking knives, garrotes and two handguns. He empties those and removes the firing mechanisms. "I appreciate the assist, and I'm glad I could get you a drink. You are a lovely lady and I was enjoying our time together. I should probably track the handler of these idiots. I'm sorry they laid hands on you. May I?" He holds his hand out to take hers for a kiss. That's old timey Frenchy stuff, right? He also gives her a roguish smile.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Once more she looked normal, just another 'normal' woman. His claiming of her hand for that little kiss at her fingers had her laughing softly. "Well, you have gone for pleasantries rather than attempting to stake me, or reaching for holy water or a crucifix, so I think we can consider this good terms."

A glance back to the thugs as her hand was freed, the Vampiress tilts her head to the side. "I do believe that 'mooks' as a friend of mine would call them would simply spoil my appetite. They are yours to do with what you will."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake almost pricks up his ears at the term 'mooks'. That friend wouldn't have long red hair and killer legs and eyebrows that do... " His hands sketch out eybrows that look sort of like horns? Likes leather and not a lot of it, find of boots?"

Blake Riviere has posed:
A blink, she shakes her head with a little laugh. "No, it is a blonde I know...but your friend sounds like a woman after my own heart," a gesture to herself and her professional getup, she lifts a hand lightly. "Do not let my outfit fool you, I had too meet with some people who are not so appreciative of 'different'. Or at least, they do not express it."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake nods and gets up to go. "It's been nice meeting you. I'm at the Griffin in Queens. Come by sometime and meet my significant other. We can chill or play cards or something." He smiles a genuine smile at that and turns to leave. What are the odds? He never seems to meet ordinary women anymore, not that he's complaining.