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Post by starrzchylde on Jan 11, 2007 10:06:35 GMT -5
The Blue Note is a small blues/jazz club a few blocks away from Piscary's Pizza. The walls are painted black with music notes of varying shades of blue accenting them. The floor is taken up by a stage, small dance floor, and lots of cocktail tables with two chairs each. Scat tends the bar and owns the place. He's an older human, with glasses and snow white hair. He welcomes anyone into his bar as long as they can play nice, and he hired Mickey to make sure of that. Mickey is the bouncer. He's 6'5" living vamp, and at least 300 lbs of pure muscle. He's a big teddy bear to those who deserve it, and the devil himself to trouble makers.
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Post by FrankTheTank on Mar 16, 2007 10:47:55 GMT -5
The sun was just beginning its final decent over the top of the buildings, it’s glowing warmth slowly sinking beneath the pressure of the night. The neon lights outside of the Blue Note were just starting to flicker to life as Michael and Rhia pulled up across the street and parked.
The place had been nothing more than a jazz bar catering for a small group of regulars until the day that Rhia had walked through the doors. With Rhia singing at the helm, the bar had gone from an unknown hole in the wall to a thriving business pulling in punters from all over the city. While Rhia no longer sang there on a regular basis due to her work commitments with Enchanted Investigations, the bar was now firmly on the map and had continued to prosper.
One of the bars many new fans, had been a wizard named Michael Draven. Michael had never been particularly interested in jazz music, but a pretty singer had since convinced him otherwise, for the Blue Note was where he had first meet Rhia Marinello.
Arm in arm, Michael and Rhia crossed over the road to the entrance that was usually occupied by Mickey the Mountain as Michael had come to call him. Mickey was around but that was no surprise as business didn’t usually pick up until at least nine.
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Post by starrzchylde on Mar 16, 2007 11:05:32 GMT -5
As they enter, the front doors, Rhia sighs softly. Something about this place had always felt like home to her, from the very first time she had set foot through those doors. The small club was filled with little more than it's usuals, seeing it was still early.
At Rhia's insistence, Scat had taken to hiring a few singers to come in a few nights a week, keeping the business booming. A couple of the regulars lift their heads, beaming widely and waving excited hands in Rhia's direction. She grins and waves back at them each in turn, knowing them all by name.
She turns to Michael. "Oh, we soooo have to come in here more often. I miss it here, and it's an ego boost too," she adds with a chuckle.
Scat looks up from the bar, a rag in his hand. Happiness lights up his tired face, making him look quite a few years younger, despite his age. It's not often you see a human running a bar in the Hollows, but no one would ever think of harming Scat... not with Mickey at his back.
Rhia leads Michael straight over to the bar. She smiles at him happily, then lets go of his arm. With a grin to Scat she slides herself over the bar, hopping down on to her feet on the other side. She hugs Scat tight, offering him his requisite kiss on the cheek. Rhia had come to look at Scat as a father figure. She still called him, even though she couldn't make it in to the club as often as she'd liked. "Hi, Scat," she says with a giggle as she lets him go.
Scat laughs, shaking his head. "Rhia girl. You sure do know how to make an old man feel special."
"That's because you are special, Scat," Rhia says with a nod and a grin. She kisses him on the cheek again and moves to a seat, this time taking the long way around the bar.
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Post by FrankTheTank on Mar 16, 2007 11:30:48 GMT -5
“Hey Scat.” Smiled Michael as he slipped onto a stool and reached out to shake the kindly barman’s firm hand. Scat might have been getting on in years, but anyone who shook his hand knew there was still plenty of life left in him. It seemed fitting that after all the hard work that Scat had put into the bar all these years that he should finally get to see the place booming with regular trade.
As Rhia sat herself on the stool next to him, Michael scanned the bars many tables and dark corners filled with shadows. He recognised a couple of the regulars from his previous visits to the bar, but it was painfully obvious that the one individual he was looking for was so nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Mickey, out back eating a horse?” Asked Michael curiously as he turned back to face Scat who was cleaning a glass with the same old rag he always seemed to have in his hand.
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Post by starrzchylde on Mar 16, 2007 18:02:25 GMT -5
Scat chuckles a bit, shaking his head at Michael. "I wish he was. Poor fella's been real sick lately."
Rhia's face pales, her smile quickly fading. "Mickey is sick? What's been wrong?"
"Well, he's been getting real weak, you know. It started out as just a hangover. He said he had been doing a little too much partying after work and needed more Brimstone."
Rhia's eyes widen. "Oh God, no.." she says, her hands moving to her mouth.
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Post by FrankTheTank on Mar 20, 2007 12:09:38 GMT -5
The hairs on the back of Michael’s neck stood on end when Scat told them of how Mickey had suddenly fallen ill. It seemed impossible that within the space of one day that they could have come across so many cases of the usually resilient vampire species falling ill or worse. While Michael was not usually the sort to believe in coincidences, today he would gladly make an exception.
Over the past three months of getting to know Rhia, Michael had spent many of his evenings at the Blue Note watching her sing until he’d successfully convinced her to try her hand at investigative work. As a consequence he had become quite fond of the bars owner and the closet softy of a living vampire bouncer named Mickey.
Due to circumstances in his past Michael had great difficulty in being able to trust those of the vampiric persuasion. Mickey however had proven himself a more than trustworthy individual and had always gone out of his way to look after Rhia, which in Michael’s book made him a good man. The thought of one of his only friends in the city falling foul to some black spell filled him with a burning anger.
Michael reached over and rested a comforting hand on Rhia’s knee. “Scat, if you’ve got Mickey’s home phone number to hand I’d really like to give him a call, just to make sure he’s alright.” He didn’t mention that he wanted to confirm that Mickey was still alive, but there was no point in creating panic until they knew more.
“Don’t worry.” Smiled Michael as he rubbed Rhia’s knee reassuringly. “For all we know Scat is right and Mickey’s just exhausted from over indulging himself after work.
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Post by starrzchylde on Mar 31, 2007 16:47:27 GMT -5
Rhia nods, her face pale. All she can think of is Mickey, fading away to nothing because of some black spell.
Scat nods, raising an eyebrow. Without a word, he grabs a small notepad from under the bar and jots down Mickey's number. "What's going on that you two aren't telling me," he says as he hand over the slip of paper to Michael.
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Post by FrankTheTank on Apr 18, 2007 11:29:33 GMT -5
Michael gratefully took the slip of paper form Scat and rested it upon the bar in front of him. Just a few numbers to punch in and they would find out whether their good friend was merely feeling a little under the weather from over exuberance. Of course if there was no answer then they could probably assume the worse, that Mickey had fallen foul of a demon twisted curse.
Just a few numbers, but a few more than Michael felt capable of making. Sliding the phone number across the bar towards Rhia, Michael raised himself out of his seat and mumbled something about checking the bars wards. He slowly made his way to the front of the bar where he stood just within hearing distance.
He had completely ignored Scat’s question, unsure how to go about explaining that their mutual friend could be lying dead somewhere. Instead he had left it to Rhia, knowing that she would understand but unsure whether she could forgive him for not being more supportive when she needed him.
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Post by starrzchylde on Apr 27, 2007 18:52:43 GMT -5
Rhia sighs softly, staring down at the scrap of paper in front of her. Slowly, she begins to explain the situation to Scat. Her eyes stay on the paper as she talks, not seeing the look the spreads across Scat's face, a mixture of shock, fear, and pure sadness. She tentatively reaches into her purse, pulling out her cell phone, her body moving as if on auto pilot. Part of her wishes that Michael had stayed by her, his gentle hand on her knee or around her waist always seemed to help her stay sane.
She finishes explaining to Scat what is happening, then just sits there, her cell phone still in her hand. She was scared to call Mickey, petrified that he wouldn't answer the phone. Finally, she puts the phone in front of her and dials, her hear pounding loudly in her chest as she brings the phone to her ear.
1 ring.... no answer.
2 rings... no answer.
3 rings... no answer.
4 rings... no answer.
Tears begin to well up in Rhia's eyes, the sound of the ringing phone echoing inside her head.
"Hello.." a soft and raspy voice breaks the monotony of the ringing, bringing a gasp from Rhia.
"Shit, Mickey. Oh, thank God," Rhia says, the tears of relief spilling from her eyes.
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