Nov 09 08:43:52 106 PA - John & Bart bar hopping

From Chronicles

Bartholemew is sitting outside the apts on the front stoop out of the way of those entering or leaving just smoking a cig and watching people go by.
John comes wandering out and takes a seat next to you on the stoop, "Sup man. How are things?"
Bartholemew shrugs, "Not much goin on today. A little incident of an emotional woman knockin some doc on his ass as he was passin by. So at least a little entertainment. She wasn't bad lookin either."
John nods, "So we need some real work. Something that actually has credits comming our way. We only have rent covered for so long. Where do you think we can go to find some real work?"
Bartholemew nods in agreement, "Yeah man, that last gig isn't going to produce much in the line of credits. I heard a rumor that a refugee may have been the one that crashed there. When he went back the car was chopped. Wanted to offer a reward but too poor and the cops don't give a shit."
John chuckles, "I heard he was offering like 10 credits or something. We scored on that one."
Bartholemew wrinkles his brow, "We did? What we get? A few hundred credits if we're lucky?"
John laughs, "I doubt we will get even that. I was totally joking. We need something that has a guarentee of a payout I think."
Bartholemewflicks his dead cig into the street, "Have you heard from them yet on all that?"
John shakes his head, "Nope just what I have heard around. Want to head to Moes see if we run into either of them?"
Bartholemew nods, "Sounds like a plan. The one owes us all dinner." he chuckles.
John stands up and starts to walk towards the dregs
You head into Moe's Tavern.
Bartholemew has arrived.
John and Bart make their way into the bar, John heads to the bar to get a couple beers before meeting Bart at a table.
Bartholemew just sits down at the first table empty that he comes to. While John grabs the beers he looks around checking out the patrons in the place. Taking the beer and downing a good mouthful, "Any ideas on work man? I'm willing to do about anything. Hell, I figure take the bikes out along the main road to the city and see if we can pick something off in the next few days. Maybe sit out for a week if we can."
John shrugs, "I thought we were going to give the city a chance? I mean we can. Maybe we should wander around to a couple different bars later and see if we can pick up on anything."
Bartholemew nods, "Sure. Have a couple here then move on, good deal." Raising his beer, "To finding some luck."
John clinks his bottle agains yours, "To finding a job." takeing a large swig after.
Bartholemew takes his own long swig. "I won't be shocked if we never see those two again." chuckling.
John looks around, "You never know. I need to get better at my mechanic abilities as well as electrical. That way next time I will know what I am looking for."
Bartholemew nods, "get yerself a job workin a garage. might help."
John laughs, "You mean like a paycheck job? Me? But it would help me with picking up skills. I dunno lets see if we can pick up some fun work tonight and we will see about getting a real job."
Bartholemew laughs, "Yeah, like really. We should get something flexible to hold down the fort at least."
John looks over to you, "Your going to get a job job too? Really? What are you thinking to do?"
Bartholemew shrugs taking another swig, "I don't know, I'm only skilled in labor jobs, but it should be flexible and pay the rent."
John finishes his beer and slides the empty across to you, "Your turn."
Bartholemew reluctantly gets up after finishing his own placing both bottles in the center of the table to get two more. When he returns he hands off the bottle taking his seat again, "Where ya wanna hit next? Stay in the Dregs or go uptown?"
John shrugs, "I was thinking about hitting that mechanics bar we saw when we first came into town."
Bartholemew nods, "Kewl, that'll be the next stop."
At your table, John says "So what did you think of those two we went on that run with?"
At your table, Bartholemew shrugs, "Alright I guess. We'll see still."
At your table, John takes a deep swig from his beer, "I was hoping to run into one of them here."
At your table, Bartholemew nods, "Me too, maybe they didn't get much and decided to keep it. Whatever, it's chump change. We need to find a cargo transport needing escort."
At your table, John says "See now that sounds like our kind of work. Any ideas where to go drum that kind of buisness up at?"
At your table, Bartholemew shakes his head, "Not anything I've heard about so far. Maybe some time in the merchant district will change that
John finishes his beer, "Well lets head that way. It's where the bar I was wanting to hit is anyway."
Bartholemew finishes his beer setting it in the middle of the table with the others and heads out.
Bartholemew leaves Moe's Tavern.
Bartholemew has left.
John makes his way through the crowd following Bart out.
Kingsdale - Main Street North
Bartholemew has arrived.
John and Bart come strolling up the street heading towards merchants plaza.
Bartholemew is smoking a cigarette while he walks, "So how much farther is this place?"
John looks over to Bart, "Just up here in the merchants district, called nuts and bolts or something."
Erica is leaning against the KDPD building, in the shade. She notices the two familiar people walking past and she gives them a quick nod of her head. "Hi there John. Hi Bart." She offers them a quick smile as they walk.
Bartholemew looks toward the greeting and smiles nudging John with an elbow. "Look who we have here. Hey doll."
John turns and gives a friendly smile, "Hey Erica. How goes it?"
"Hi there john. I'm alirght I guess. What are you both up to? And don't call me doll." Erica asks as she keeps leaning against the police building. She has a water bottle in one hand that she takes a quick sip out of as she enjoys the cool weather.
Bartholemew grins to Erica, "What, you rather be called babe? Doll too good fer ya?" walking over to where she is hanging on the building.
John motions towards the merchant district, "We were thinking of checking out that mechanics bar up the road."
"How about you call me by my name?" Erica says as she frowns at Bart before turning towards John. "That is a nice play. They serve good drinks, but watch out the music is kind of loud up there."
Bartholemew folds his arms in front of him, one hand rubbing his chin as he looks upward in thought as he stands in front of her. Looking down on her he nod, "Alrighty.." he grins, "..Erica it is. Codename, Doll." chuckling softly, "Don't like nicknames?"
John shakes his head, "We were wondering were we ended up with that salvage?"
"I don't like being called Doll lets leave it at that. Don't do it again." Erica says to Bart in a rather serious tone. She licks her lips quickly as she turns her head back to John. "We didn't get any credits from the salvage John just a bit of trouble. Nothing for you to worry about."
Brady has arrived.
Erica is leaning against the police station with a water bottle in one hand. She is talking to two men as she enjoys the crisp November air.
Brady makes his way up Main, hat tipped and collar lifted, both to keep the sideways rain outside and the wind off, as much as he can. The KDPD isn't really his favorite landmark, but he takes a gander thattaway. After a recent chat, he's expecting to see someone in stripes.
Bartholemew's eyes narrow just slightly at the serious tone Erica uses, his arms still folded, "And if I do?" somewhat of a smirk on his face.
John pats Barts shoulder, "COme on man. Lets not go gettin into any fights over nicknames."
Erica's eyes narrow in turn at Bart's question. "Why don't you and your friend haul off. If you can't be respectful then I don't want to know you." She stands up from where she was leaning against the building and stares down Bart. "Go get your drinks and maybe you can find a girl who doesn't care what you treat her like."
Well, Erica isn't in black and white, but that doesn't mean everything's aces with her. Brady initially approaches to see if, how or when she got herself off clean, but the bits of talk that find him add another level of curious. "Something wrong, Freckles?" He words are to her, but his baby blues promptly sweep over to the boys.
Lean and mean is one possible first impression, with a large helping of 'scruffy' on the side. This man is just on the tall and slender end of average, with a posture that is a mix of upright attitude and the slouch of casual confidence.
Dirty blond hair (in shade and, possibly, tidiness) is nearly shoulder length and mostly slicked to the rear. His coif is aided by a nearly everpresent hat, yet still some locks attempt to rebel and lie where they wish. Below the brim of the black Stetson, blue eyes a keenly vigilant regardless of any semblance of relaxation. These, and the hawkish nose between them, are the hard edges to a face that might otherwise be soft if not for the intentional growth of half-beard and stubble.
The hat is as much a part of the man as the hair it holds in place, and rarely leaves its position without cause. A silver band with matching 'acorns' accents the black felt, but the headgear is more than just a piece of military nostalgia from ages past. Through a suspicious, half-inch hole nearly centered above his eyes, the glossy black from some form of insert is visible behind the felt. A worn, brown Branaghan duster drapes over him from shoulders to pointed-toe boots, but most of his other clothing and accessories are still readily apparent. His white shirt has a simple collar, around which a puffed tie wraps before tucking into the emerald paisely vest above tan slacks. All is stylish to some eyes, yet functional, as well as light enough in color to shed the sun and not blatantly display the dust.
His belt is more function than fashion, and it has little to do with keep his trousers up. The tanned leather is a blend of old and new styling in pistol belts, as are the weapons holstered there. Automatic pistols rest upon either hip, rustic in calibre, but as much art as weapon, and their sleek, composite construction is reminiscent of designs that followed . His belt holds two magazines rearward of each holster, then reverts to an array of single loops, each of which holds a round. The conspicuous bulge in the rear of his longcoat suggests that not all upon the belt is displayed.
History and tradition are shed in favor of practical wisdom, as evidenced by yet another pair of pistols borne higher on his torso that are more or less apparent dependent on his movement or position. The shiny ceramic of two Wilks' pistols protrude, butt-forward, from a modern shoulder hoslter that is strapped over his vest. This man seems to like his handguns, and makes no conscious effort to conceal any of them.
Bartholemew shrugs off his friend, looking her stone in the eye, "Thats fine by me doll. If you wanna make a friendly gesture into something hostile I don't need you or your bad info." he turns to look at who walks up in the rain.
John just stands back at this point watching.
Erica keeps her eyes locked with Bart's not blinking. "Hello Brady. This little boy can't seem to take a hint and wants to make an ass of himself in public. I asked you nice Bart, but you want to be an ass you keep on like that. See how long it'll work for you." Her stance widens ever so slightly as she looks ready to defend herself.
"Ain't that a shame." Brady's head shakes, but in lieu of some tsks, he extracts a cigarette and lights it. "Some fellers just don't know how to treat a girl right proper no more." He reaches out to nudge Erica lightly, adding his own eyeballs to those upon Bart. "Feel like wagerin' on something moving, this time, Freckles? Double or nothing?"
Bartholemew grins at Brady but returns his gaze to Erica's, "Sorry this soldier can't act all proper round the royalty. You ain't my commanding officer doll, thats all I respect so live with it." he then backs up and turns to leave, "Come on man, lets get a drink and a real line on work." talking to John.
John turns and heads off with Bart
Erica's stance relaxs as Bart backs off and walks away. She takes a look at his back for a moment before turning her attention to Brady. "Maybe I'll make a bet. What is the bet on? I'm not going to do any horse riding." She raises up her water bottle to her lips and takes a drink from it as her eyes still follow the two men as they walk away.
Kingsdale - Merchant's Plaza
John walks along with you, "What was that all about?"
Bartholemew shakes his head, "i don't know, I was just bein friendly and she got all bent. I don't have to take attitude from her. I tried to joke it off and she still upped the ante. Fuckin bitch. Her info sucked too."
John chuckles, "Her info did suck. Ohh there it is the Nut and Bolt.
You head into the Nut and Bolt.
John sits at a table with a beer in his hand just looking about at the crowd.