Will refuses again, demonstrating how his hands are tied to his work, slow as it was, with a shake of his head and a step away from the bar.
Kevin laughs loudly to himself, using one hand to dismissively gesture in Will's direction, the other holding his beer. He takes a long swig out of his glass and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.
Then suddenly,
"--you know what your problem is, dude?"
Will banters with Kevin a little more as the police officer leans on the bar, pointing in the young bartender's direction. Worst thing about this situation--Kevin wasn't even buzzed yet. This was just how he acted naturally.
A few other people are watching the news, and someone runs by outside, past the panoramic window at the front of the establishment. Will leaves his station to collect a dirty glass from the other side of the bar with a grumble.
Kevin watches Will walk away, readjusts himself, straightening his back and lighting a cigarette before leaning his head on his hand and looking up at the television. Boring.
Someone runs by outside--a woman. He cocks an eyebrow and watches her with mild, cynical curiosity; college hadn't even been in session a month and the kids were already causing a fuckin' ruckus. Whatever.
He tries to concentrate on the television, squinting hard. He couldn't see from this distance.
It hadn't started off bad. David had gotten in a little later than usual, not quite late, and had missed the boat; he had gotten to hit up a couple of easy jobs in the suburbs rather than having to hit up the sewage lines in the middle of downtown like Bone and the rest.
'Course, that meant they got to chill out in the dark and take their time about one job. David wound up busting his hump all over town for eight and a half hours, and the residential jobs had both turned out bad. One had been easy but the douchebag had bitched for fifteen minutes about the bill; the other had been a disaster zone.
Either way, it was over now. David was content to stand at the bar, drink his Guinness, and try to calm the fuck down.
Normal night at J's bar, all things aside. Kind of crappy rock-jazz music the bartender favored, some loud-mouthed cop making a big jockular deal out of nothing, a few security guards having greasy-looking cheeseburgers, a single waitress bustling around and being way too perky for her own good... not much is going on. It's all pretty easy to ignore if you're in the right mindset.
Alyssa is perched on a tall stool at her table, by herself, two empty beer bottles in front of her and a third half-empty one attending the other two. She's working on a report, and needs quick confirmation of one of her facts.
...Eh. Later. She's momentarily distracted by a newscast about a disruption at the high school football game.
This is news? What, did the cheerleaders forget their pom-poms?
The newscast details a sudden riot at the football game, and the detention of about 25 people by police. Ten people were sent to the hospital, two of which were officers who incurred serious injuries and are in stable condition.
The loud kind of acid-rocky music Will always insists on playing on his bartending shift drowns out most of the news broadcast--it's hard to hear unless you're sitting directly nearby (and even that's in question; the cop by the bar that's here almost all the time is carrying on way too loudly for his own good).
The bright blue computer-generated newsroom cuts away and there's shaky testimony footage from a man in a sweat-stained mesh hat and a flannel shirt. "I don' know what'n happened..." he says, adjusting his cap, "Must've been a street gang...? Err, or, sumthin'. There was a lot of 'em."
He's got a large cut on his arm that appears to be bleeding, but he doesn't pay attention to it. His wife, standing beside him, blinks a few times, looking rather faint.
The newscaster shakes his head in mock pity, and then continues on with a story about how a lioness just gave birth at the Raccoon City zoo. "Simba", how original...
George is sitting in a booth. He came alone, but he actually ordered a meal and would rather not have the annoyance of balancing on a stool while eating.
Despite the fact that he doesn't drink much, he comes to J's Bar quite often. He tells himself it's because both the atmosphere and the food is quite good. It's a good place to go to de-stress.
That's what he's trying to do now. Even though the rate of deaths is fairly high in his field, he's always hit by the loss of a patient. Being very good at his job means he has to face it less, but he wasn't so lucky today. So he's blinking tiredly at whatever sports show is playing on the TV, hoping it will fuzz out some of the past ten hours.
The television is playing the emergency newscast Alyssa is also watching--it's only "emergency" because, well, nothing like this ever happens in Raccoon city. Small city, small news--however, the riot detailed seems especially odd in its sudden ramp in violence and the amount of injuries... especially for a high school football game. That stadium holds what, 300, 400 people max?
"How strange..." George murmurs. He watches a little more closely, wondering if perhaps there's some sort of problem with the school systems. He also wonders if perhaps he saw one or two of them before coming here tonight...there were an awful lot of cases today.
Were they following her? Yoko certainly hoped not. But she knew things were going to get ugly. So that's why she ducked into J's Bar; those men in the uniforms wouldn't think to look in such a place. She made a bee-line for the bathroom, all the while aware that her Umbrella uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.
The moment she entered the bathroom, she changed everything. "Have to disguise myself," she mumbled as she worked. "First the glasses..." They were replaced by contact lenses. She blinked a few times before moving on.
"Then the uniform." That went, too; it was replaced by something a lot more casual. College student-type clothing. "And finally..."
Yoko grabbed the pair of scissors she had lifted from the labs. Giving herself one last look in the mirror, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "...The hair."
Nobody seems to notice Yoko's uniform upon entering, which is just as well. Nobody busts in on her either... it's pretty peaceful here in the restroom.
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Will refuses again, demonstrating how his hands are tied to his work, slow as it was, with a shake of his head and a step away from the bar.
Kevin laughs loudly to himself, using one hand to dismissively gesture in Will's direction, the other holding his beer. He takes a long swig out of his glass and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.
Then suddenly,
"--you know what your problem is, dude?"
Will banters with Kevin a little more as the police officer leans on the bar, pointing in the young bartender's direction. Worst thing about this situation--Kevin wasn't even buzzed yet. This was just how he acted naturally.
...it was going to be a long night.
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Someone runs by outside--a woman. He cocks an eyebrow and watches her with mild, cynical curiosity; college hadn't even been in session a month and the kids were already causing a fuckin' ruckus. Whatever.
He tries to concentrate on the television, squinting hard. He couldn't see from this distance.
Reply
It hadn't started off bad. David had gotten in a little later than usual, not quite late, and had missed the boat; he had gotten to hit up a couple of easy jobs in the suburbs rather than having to hit up the sewage lines in the middle of downtown like Bone and the rest.
'Course, that meant they got to chill out in the dark and take their time about one job. David wound up busting his hump all over town for eight and a half hours, and the residential jobs had both turned out bad. One had been easy but the douchebag had bitched for fifteen minutes about the bill; the other had been a disaster zone.
Either way, it was over now. David was content to stand at the bar, drink his Guinness, and try to calm the fuck down.
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...Eh. Later. She's momentarily distracted by a newscast about a disruption at the high school football game.
This is news? What, did the cheerleaders forget their pom-poms?
God, what a town.
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A hand drops into her purse and pulls out her cell phone, getting ready to call the city desk to see what the deal is.
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The bright blue computer-generated newsroom cuts away and there's shaky testimony footage from a man in a sweat-stained mesh hat and a flannel shirt.
"I don' know what'n happened..." he says, adjusting his cap, "Must've been a street gang...? Err, or, sumthin'. There was a lot of 'em."
He's got a large cut on his arm that appears to be bleeding, but he doesn't pay attention to it. His wife, standing beside him, blinks a few times, looking rather faint.
The newscaster shakes his head in mock pity, and then continues on with a story about how a lioness just gave birth at the Raccoon City zoo. "Simba", how original...
Reply
Despite the fact that he doesn't drink much, he comes to J's Bar quite often. He tells himself it's because both the atmosphere and the food is quite good. It's a good place to go to de-stress.
That's what he's trying to do now. Even though the rate of deaths is fairly high in his field, he's always hit by the loss of a patient. Being very good at his job means he has to face it less, but he wasn't so lucky today. So he's blinking tiredly at whatever sports show is playing on the TV, hoping it will fuzz out some of the past ten hours.
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Somewhere down the street there's the muffled, almost inaudible sound of shattering glass and a scream. College kids...
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The moment she entered the bathroom, she changed everything. "Have to disguise myself," she mumbled as she worked. "First the glasses..." They were replaced by contact lenses. She blinked a few times before moving on.
"Then the uniform." That went, too; it was replaced by something a lot more casual. College student-type clothing. "And finally..."
Yoko grabbed the pair of scissors she had lifted from the labs. Giving herself one last look in the mirror, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "...The hair."
Snip, snip.
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