Saints & Sinners {Open}

[saint]

You better stop and think twice,
Before you take your first step,
Out that door.
If you wanna step up,
You're gonna get knocked down.
If you wanna step up,
You're gonna get knocked down.
You had your chance to walk away.
Live to see another day.


Ah, single malt scotch, twelve years old, that was the good stuff. Not like the watered down crap his last supplier tried to sell him. Heck, that was a mistake the guy wasn’t going to pull again, that was for sure. The doctor had said him to not mix the pills with alcohol, but she also had told him to eat more greens and health stuff. Then again Joshua Saint wasn’t exactly human, was he?

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wooden chair in his office, the chair protesting against his weight. The heavy metal music permeated from the club into the room and it soothed him to a degree. Blasted knee, blasted Punchinello. If he could only kill the fucker once again…

The office door swung open, but Saint didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was, he only had to sniff the air. It was One-eye, the scary ass bastard with dark brown hair already growing slightly white at the edges, muscles on muscles along with a collection of scars, an eye patch over the eye that he had lost and big ass snakes tattooed on his neck. Yeah, a really friendly type, then again, a sissy looking pretty boy wouldn’t cut as the Sinner’s Bin head bouncer, the crowd out there would eat them for breakfast.

“What’s shaking?”

The hoarse voice of One-eye cut the background music. Drowning Pool, Rebel Yell, good music.
“We got a dealer in the house’ boss.”

SHIT!

Saint’s eyes snapped open, a faint yellow glow flickering on a second on them and his jaw clenched as his brow furrowed in anger. A sight that made even one as One-eye take back a step as his boss started cursing the guy and his mother – hell, the whole generation of losers that had spawned the poor idiot that had dared to go there pulling that act. You’d think that after word went out of what happened to the last one that pulled that stunt got out, no one would dare to come there again with the purpose of dealing in drugs.

Saint had his cane and was limping out of the back office before his head bouncer could say anything else. For a guy with a busted knee he moved really fast.

It took all self control he had to not go all panther into the asshole seating on the table and sliding a small package to the dark haired guy next to him. But his snarl had the dealer looking up and the buyer running for his life – he had hear the stories about Saint…and the look in his eyes, he knew the smartest thing to do was to run until his legs couldn’t work anymore and then keep running and prey he didn’t follow.

But the dealer? The guy just gave him an arrogant smirk and made himself more comfortable in the chair.

Saint grabbed the chair, turned it around so the back was into his front and straddled the seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You got balls moron. But you’re going to be wearing them for earrings within the next five seconds,” he hissed.

“Easy now big guy,” the dealer gulped hard and shifted uneasily on his expensive suit, “I work for Mister Chase. Maybe you have heard of him?”

Yeah, Saint had heard of him. A bastard who sell poison to children and didn’t care about it, anyone that defied him ended up being fish food with fancy cement boots…old gangster crap to put the fear of life into the cowards.

The dealer smiled and slid a wad of cash to Saint.
“Now be smart and take your cut. It’s a sweet deal for you, Mister Chase will supply, I will sell and you will just look the other way and collect the cash if you don’t want to get your other knee busted.”

“Is that so?”

The dealer smiled widely and nodded once Saint took the money.

That was before Saint’s hand moved forward with unnatural speed, grabbing his neck from behind and smacking his face into the table. As blood poured from the dealer’s broken nose, he shoved the wad of cash into the idiot’s throat and pulling up, he ignored the sharp pain in his knee as he winced slightly but didn’t stop as he carried the asshole outside.

The door was pushed open as the two figures stood out and it was the crowd that winced at the scene that played before their eyes. Good, let them watch and know what happened to anyone that dared to break the rules of the place.

Saint wasn’t enough to stay clear of corruption, but he was strong enough to fight for a piece of it. And no stupid ass poison dealers would mess up with his slice of hell. People wanted to get high around there, it better be on liquor.

Two went out, only one came limping back in.

One-eye tossed a towel for his boss to wipe his hands off the blood and then handed him his cane. Saint nodded his thanks and told his bouncer to clear the mess for him as he went into one of the tables and signaled the waitress. Under two seconds, she was standing there next to him. She was a cute little thing, all dark hair, small waist, long legs and big boobs. She was good for business, attracted stupid drooling guys to get drunk there and if any got out of the line, Saint would set him straight.

“Get me a whiskey straight up, make it a double.”

She nodded and moved back to the bar quickly to fill her boss order as the sound of laughs and random talk returned to fill the place.

[Sirena of the Blue]

The night life of this city was quite amazing. Even after Paris and Tokyo, neither of which were exactly quiet, this place had a night life that was brimming with both darkness and light, history and freshness. That was life, and it was beautiful for all of the grittiness and sin it represented.

With the faint scent of sweat in the air to remind her of the crashing waters of home, and the shouts and beating bass lines that brought to mind the sound of bonfire drums and frantically beating hearts a wonderful counterpoint to the voices around her Sirena moved through the massing crowds with a smile, her dark hair loose around her classically pretty and mercurial features. Many of those in the darker corners had whispered of a new bar, as gritty as she could have asked with an owner mentioned with mixed admiration and fear. It sounded promising.

Her recent shopping trips had led her to a beautiful local shop where she'd found a short velvet gown, colored an amethyst so deep it would look almost black unless the light shined on it just so, and over that she wore one of the odd sleeve-shirts that seemed to be popular made completely of black lace with sleeves that extended well past her wrists, and her jewelry was her dagger necklace with it's finely jeweled sheath and her precious ring from her Talenon. Looking herself over in the mirror before she'd left home Rena had been delighted at the image she made and with a simple touch of makeup to bring out the blueness of her eyes she'd gone out. Now she was ready to see whether she was going to get into this Sinner's Bin. If the name was a misnomer she was going to be severely annoyed.

Though the line outside was already rather lengthy but one of her glowing smiles and a suggestion under a quietly crooned Kittie song soon had her in the door. Well, it was dark- but dark was not sinful any more than bright light was saintly. Her heels clicked quietly across the hardwood floor and she instinctively shifted the pace of her steps to provide the harmonic counterpoint to the music that thudded through the room, guitars plucking out a sort of vocal harmony in what could otherwise have been discord. Smiling more widely and humming to the music the scent of some blood came to her, bringing a flash to her eyes and causing the Lorelei to look around. Blood and sweat, like the shipwrecks of old that her people had lost with the ages and sought to reproduce through any means necessary; and Sirena was quite good at her own method for achieving them.

There was a bar nearby with a rather surprisingly large person behind the counter, but size had never intimidated the tiny Lorelei, though her bones were as fragile as any ocean coral. "A drink, whatever's the best?" she asked with a smile as she looked over at the man wiping his knuckles with a rag, then lay a bill on the bar and picked up the scotch glass. Tequila, how cute. Smiling amusingly and giggling at the things humans considered good she took a sip of the fermented fruit juice and simply waited for her moment.

[saint]

^{One Eye ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Amy}


Amy rushed over to the bar to get her boss his drink. She liked him – heck he was her freaking hero since he saved her from her abusive boyfriend – but sometimes he just downright scared her when he got that almost feral look in his eyes. He had be though to run a place like this, she knew that, but had things to get bloody so damned often? She would have nightmares about the fate of that drug dealer for a few days, she just knew it.

So deep in her thoughts that she was that she couldn’t prevent from bumping into a dark haired woman in a velvet gown and gave the woman an awkward smile. “Sorry,” she murmured already moving back to her boss with his drink on her hands, careful not to spill on the woman. Funny, she seemed different from the usual leather clad tattooed female crowd that usually intimidated her a little.

Saint raised his eyes once the glass was placed before him. “Thanks,” he said to Amy while failing to paste on a little smile for her. His frame of mind wouldn’t allow it right now, and he could see the scared and careful posture she took when he was like this, when his inner beast was growling and snarling. Alcohol, yeah, it always had a soothing effect on his wild side and he took the glass and guzzled it down.

Megadeth’s The Killing Road was playing now. Saint leaned his head back and closed his head letting the burning sensation slide down his throat and down his body, his inner panther suddenly changed from a snarl into a purr at the sensation. Nothing like a stiff drink after kicking some bastard off his club to make him relax, he half expected something to spoil his relaxing moment again in the next five seconds like it had just happened.

He risking opening one eye and was met with shady faces lurking about. Nothing out of the ordinary there, he knew some and even had deals with them. Ah, maybe he was just getting itchy with the idea of running a club like this even though he doubted cops would be showing up at his front door. Not likely, not in this neighborhood. Everything was fine…just fine and --

Saint froze for a moment and opened both eyes as they focused on a brunette at the bar. She was elegantly dressed and sporting jewelry, not the type of women that stepped in for a drink or to look for a date in a place like this. Effing hell! If she was another dealer he would go apeshit.

He sniffed the air, she smelled funny, but no drugs as far as he could sense even in the sea of bodies in the club. Still that didn’t put him at ease, not even close.

Holding on to his cane as he cursed under his breath, he got up and limped over to the bar before giving a nod to the bartender and the guy’s eyes flashed knowingly. A tequila shot was placed in front of him and Saint caught it on his grasp before turning to the woman.
“I don’t think I ever saw you around before,” yeah like he would forget a scent. “You’re here for business or drinks?”

[Sirena of the Blue]

The music changed to something with the same emotion, different only in the voices and instrumentation and with a tone of dark desperation. Those dancing and going about their business, be it games or simply putting their drinks down rough throats, all wanted to know that the life they were leading was more than sheer, common monotony. Like the sailors and the pirates, a softly admiring voice whispered in Rena's mind, drawing a soft smile to her lips and setting a strange little ditty humming through her head. Looking for treasures in the darkness, and adventure too. Wasn't it kind, to let them hear one truly wondrous thing before they passed?

Just as she was about to respond to that same inner statement when a lady carrying a glass and in a bit of a hurry nearly tripped over her, then quickly and respectfully apologized as though she'd committed some grave offense. Of course truly noble ladies never lashed out to the servants or workers at such a thing, it would have been exceptionally rude and cruel since they had little choice of where they were. She did seem a bit afraid as well, but not the sort of terror of an immediate danger, more unsettled. "It's fine, really," she told the dark-haired girl with a bright but sympathetic smile as the waitress walked away. No longer concerned with the matter the Lorelei raised her glass to her lips and sipped the fiery liquid.

It didn't seem like a good idea to do more than sip the drink for now and with that in mind she looked around casually, blue eyes flashing under the neon and florescent glow of the place. It really was too bad that candles weren't popular any longer; a flickering flame would have suited her perfectly and was enough to put her into a happy, wild mood. The sensation of eyes on her drew her from the revelry of her imagination, drawing her eyes toward the man who was standing and then limped over to where she sat at the bar. The innkeeper with the eye patch showed a good deal of respect toward this wounded one and the sense of the wild to him, cultivated by her years of life and deep intuition, told her that this particular pirate was still someone to be reckoned with. That worried her not at all though. Music did soothe the savage beast. Somehow that thought was important and set her mind to giggling again.

His voice was rather pleasant though there was more hint of a growl than a purr for the moment- but something told her he would relax as long as she didn't seem to be a threat. Luckily she had no intention of starting a fuss inside of his establishment, at least not one that would do his business any harm. "I'm rather new here," Rena confessed in her naturally musical and clear voice with its clear English accent. "The music drew me in, though the drinking seems to be very nice as well." Lorelei were nothing if not music lovers, even if their reasons and methods weren't the type generally understood by most humans. Tal would have understood though. Her Talenon. He did always favor the dark some, and his secret anger crooned to him with many of the dark drumbeats she heard in the air here. "The songs here remind me of the bonfire drums on the moors. I don't suppose you'd have anything like that though."

[saint]

Saint downed the shot without even blinking while he waited for the woman to reply. There was something off about her scent…not quite human, but something else, something he hadn’t encountered before and that put him on edge. Ah freaking hell, when wasn’t he on the edge? He was a paranoid bastard after all.

Her answers however did little to soothe the uneasiness he felt about her. The type that wandered into his place was bad assed bikers and those looking for deals that didn’t work well in the open. The kind that could get you behind bars from five to ten years or with a busted knee, Saint knew very well about those. But there was this woman, not quite normal, that had just waltzed into his club ‘for the music and drinks’. If she was speaking the truth, she either had guts, was crazy or both.

“No moor’s drums I’m afraid,” he spoke feeling the warm effect of the Tequila washing down his throat. His liquor supplier was a good one, but then again, he always had his way of getting about everything, didn’t he? But not moors’ drums.

“But I have Metallica.”

Sliding the glass back to the bartender, he nodded at the man.
“Keep mine and the girl’s glasses filled.”

The bartender nodded with a firm ‘you got it boss’, and poured him another one. No, Saint wasn’t being just randomly nice, he was being weary and knew you could get more from a drunk target than a sober one.

“So tell me girl, what’s your name and what you’re all about?”
Knocking down the next shot, he closed his eyes as his inner panther purred at the taste. Damn, that was good and it was also good that he had the advantage of being a shifter and it was a whole lot harder for him to get drunk than it was for the usual person that walked through the door.

[Sirena of the Blue]

There was a certain air of tension to the man, that much was obvious. His eyes almost burned from inside of their stony depths, and while that fire could no doubt be warm at times most of the time it would sear people, crisping them within his mind until they were only ashes that showed the flaws of the original person. You think such uncomfortable things, petit cherie, a warm voice that reminded her of her father echoed inside of her mind, brightening her considerably. If her Papa was amused then she had to be on the right track. No one was more honorable, honest and wise than him. It did make a somewhat more coherent part of her wonder exactly what he saw, or smelled, or sensed in her. A lot of people didn't understand what she was about, even called her 'mad' or 'sadistic'. Silly people, so limiting themselves.

"The reminder of those drums is quite pleasant enough, though it does call to mind so many other things with these tunes as well," she assured the man who must be the owner, offering her hand toward him in a polite manner once he was done speaking with the barkeep. Evidently he was interested in the idea of her inbibing a good deal of liquor for one reason or another, and it would be rude to refuse his hospitality, but perhaps if she sipped that would satisfy common courtesy. If not she would simply have to use her power over water to keep the alcohol well-contained, for her constitution was not the strongest, and while the powers of her people were extensive she rather delicately boned.

"I'm Sirena, it's a pleasure to meet you- and thank you for the drinks, good sir," she told the man as she watched him, her blue eyes full of mirth and mischief though no real malice. Of course with her nature that could change at any time, and often did if some cruel or ignorant person provoked her, but tonight she was trying to be on her best behavior. "It seems like you've had a busy night so far, I hope I'm not interrupting a private event by being here." There was something animistically territorial about him that said if she wasn't wanted he would have no problem expelling her from the place, but there were certain rules about other beings should and should not know about them. "I'm just a singer and music lover, as I said before- and looking for someone, but I don't know whether or not he'll arrive yet." An extra spark came to her eyes as she remembered Tal and some of his habits. He did so enjoy playing the hero and rescuing her...