[Sodium_noir] A snap shot in the night

[Sodium Noir ST]

[This one is a repeat but it still does a good job of summing up part of the plot so here it is again ...]  

Monday 27th of October

1 AM


Panic, Tink
Mage, Spirit
The Chaste Dragon Bordello
Downtown

Joanne, sweet girl, never really taken to being on the game. She'd been trying to talk to him for days now and he'd eventually just picked her up and plonked her on a stool. Asked her to spill it and she did. After he poured her a drink. Told him she wanted out of tricks, wanted to go back West and go back to school. Did he think it was possible?

Of course he'd said yes. Told her she had what it took. Gave her the speech about Gotham Joanne being a chapter in her life she could leave outta her memoirs and nobody needed to know. She'd cried of course, afraid to take the risk. He'd told her to quite it. Given her a couple of hundred dollars and driven her to the bus station. Used a little of his abilities to make sure she stayed on till she was home. Then drove back to the Dragon and poured himself a tequila.

He was slumped on the bar, his chin on his fist and the fist resting on the bar towel. In his other hand was a slowly burning cigarette he absentmindedly flicked into an overfull ashtray inches from his face. Tink sat in front of him dabbing at the flakes of ash that drifted down towards her with her tiny hands.

Business was brisk tonight, customers came and went, the stairs seemed quite busy with the traffic, and yet he was less than enthused. He'd expected to feel a lot better at the fall of Akril. He'd hoped to get some small measure of joy out of it, the removal of such a blight and the besting of his sworn enemy. 

He'd been shit out of luck on that score. 

He blamed himself of course. How often had he advised others not to hope to much? Too many Pandora's in the world already. To many girls that couldn't control their curiosity. Too many men with ego's bigger than their knobs ignoring all the dangers on their path to greatness. That's what happened when you allowed yourself to think the future could be bright, you got your eyes opened for you!

A wicked grin spread across his lips. He had abandoned all hope when he made his deal with Hell. He had no future, there was no chance for him. That act of self damnation was more liberating than any of the players he dealt with day to day could ever realise. They all had Hope, they all had dreams. 

Panic had nothing to loose, he was truly free! Whatever he did made no difference to him, so he did it to make a difference to others. Once you'd lost your soul, you'd bottomed out and there was simply nothing more to risk. He was, in truth, untouchable. It was a good feeling. More than the drugs, sometimes even more than the meaningless sex, that kept him warm at night. 

Not that the sex had been all that warming of late. First Shade, then that stupid hellwomb Gulfora, nor Rachel. Two Vampires and a Demon, he sure could pick 'em!

"You only doing Rachel coz she's dangerous!" Tink interrupted his thoughts with a malicious snarl. "She's close to Titus and so its all gonna turn to shit soon enough. That's why you like her, because its doomed to fail!"

"Did I ask you?"

"Dint need to, I hear everything you think remember!"

"Like I could forget." He takes another smoke from the box and holds it out for his familiar to light. A cheap trick but he never tires of it. The more he tried to destroy himself, the less it worked. Driving insanely fast, smoking 60 a day minimum, drinking enough to floor Oliver Reed, enough Coke to make a Columbian gangster think twice. He was as fit as he'd ever been. Screwing around on himself with his meager grasp of Life magic had given him diabetes, but somehow that seemed to correct itself when he pushed the boundaries. One night he'd ruptured his lung choking on auto asphyxiation. Passed out and in the morning he was all back to his youthful prime once again. He wasn't sure how far he could push it before Hell stopped fixing him, but each time he tried to find out he stepped a little further over the line.  

He got better each time though. 

The same testing of the boundaries drove his social life too. His best friends were a Thousand year old Vampire who wanted to destroy the world and a Werewolf who'd been kicked out of the tribes for having the wrong sort of friends. He played dangerous and powerful vampires and mages like chess pieces and only chose the most despicable monsters as his foes. He broke ever rule there was, except for one.

Except for the one he'd agreed to keep as part of the bargain. The second half of the down payment along with his eternal soul.

'Never interfere directly! Never take direct action against the other players.'

No he wasn't really looking to end it. Because if he was that was the one thing that would queer the deal and send him plummeting to Hell. He was stuck here doing her bidding, being her agent in Gotham. So long as he did that and didn't break that one rule he had a pretty sweet life. He kept the girls safe from all the monsters, he could word his request so skillfully even the Family thought it a sweet deal. It was a dangerous and delicate game and that's what he lived for really. 

"Intellectual snob!" Tink giggled. 

"Brains is for school sweetheart!" He said out loud. "They'll only take you so far. I've got style and that's always better than brain or brawn. Style can never fail, 'coz if you cock it up and they take you down, you'll go down looking fantastic and everyone'll love ya when your gone!"

He Flicked his dog end over the bar and it landed in a discarded glass with a fizz.
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