you've got me .:*POPPIN' CHAMPAGNE*:. :for Jaclyn:

[Race Vescan]

---'--- i'm . at . it . again ---'---

Another night, another shift. Race found his way behind the counter as the pub opened up for the drinkers of Simbol. A good number of people had already trickled in to the bar and started ordering alcohol from him. Most of them were asking for beers, but a few paid up for whiskey, along with the occasional tequila.

Every now and then, Race would glance up at the sports television—well, the one he had clear sight of, anyway. Normally a foreign soccer game would be raging upon a sea of green as fire and ice collided simply for the possession of a checkered ball, but today there was a baseball game playing. Unfortunately, the Florida Marlins were losing to the Houston Astros with the current standings of zero to two. Oh well, it wasn't like the Marlins were his favorite team anyway. He'd always been more of a Red Sox fan.

"'Ey Ves, toss me a piña colada," somebody shouted. Detaching his eyes from the ballgame, he yelled back, "Pineapple, cherry or none?" Without waiting for a response, he walked over to where the necessary supplies were in order to start stirring up the tropical drink, along the while catching the fruitless reply. Soon enough, Race had completed the rummy concoction, and slid it on over to the drinker he'd seen place the order, accepting the currency in return. From there he returned his bored gaze back to the American pass time displaying itself upon the small screen.

[Jaclyn Banx]

Jackie, quite hesitantly, ambled up towards the pub. She had never been inside--much less within a hundred feet--of a bar--or pub, whatever--before. She gnawed on her lower lip, standing a few feet away, and watching a few more men walk in. Her shoulders were hunched together tightly, giving the impression that she was nervous. But then again, a blind man could probably see that she was an anxious little thing; she kept wringing her hands and shifting from foot to foot.

Leo had been supposed to be home hours and hours ago. She knew he'd gone out drinking with a few buddies, but she couldn't remember the name of the bar he'd mentioned. She wasn't sure it was this one in particular, but she could vaguely remember him saying that he was going to Revlo Sport's Pub. Or Bub. Or Pug. Her mind was too cloudy with worry to remember the correct term. But hadn't he said this place?

She couldn't remember.

With a sigh, she pulled her jacket more tightly around herself. She wasn't that chilly, but wore the jacket anyway. It was a sweet thing, dark green in color and corduroy with a golden zipper down the front. Underneath that she had a plain, dark red blouse that was more a tunic than a blouse, and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans that fit nicely into the tops of her boots. She, though it was still muggy out, enjoyed dressing this way. Her hair was pulled back into a curly pony tail that swung slightly when she moved.

She exhaled through her nose now, pinching at her lip instead of biting it. Well, might as well get this over with now, she thought.

Very slowly, her feet carried her into the building. She cleared her throat once she stood inside, glancing around curiously. She tapped the nearest man on the shoulder, and began to ask,"Excuse me, have you, uhm, seen, a guy, who kinda looks like me, but, taller, and, more, uhm, masculine?" Arching his brow slightly, the man shook his head no. "Oh, okay, er, thanks anyway, have a good night, sir."

[/b]

She stumbled around cautiously, resembling a dog with its tail between its legs with the way she moved. She made her way around, asking the same question over and over again, her brow furrowed in distress. All the while she kept her eyes peeled for Leo, fully aware that he would probably try and hide from her. She knew he was going to explode on her as soon as she found him; she knew she worried about him too much. But after that episode with that girl, with Lydia...She wasn't sure whether or not she could trust him going out by himself anymore. [/right]

[Race Vescan]

caught . up . in . the . moment

A shot exploded from the audio that the television provided, though minimal. Sure enough, a dusty white ball was soaring across the field, having just been crushed against the bat of Cody Ross. Somewhere in the second story of seats, a teenager got a grip on the ball inside his brown baseball glove, declaring a home run for the Marlins. Race smiled, a congratulation to the state's team, though he didn't exactly mean it.

"Shoot me a Budsy," an intoxicated voice grumbled to the bartender. Translating his order to a Budweiser, the vampire nodded and headed over to where the selected brand's bottles were stored. Along the way, his gaze began to wander, by chance catching a young girl hidden in the crowd. Surely she couldn't be of legal age, could she? Then again, she could have been a vampire that turned a couple of years back... No, the atmosphere smelled too fetidly of wolf. Werewolf, to be exact. Of course, she could always be just one of those awesome ladies like Cindy Crawford that could pull off a look half of their actual age.

Get over it, Race, he commanded himself. She isn't the first underage kid to slip into a bar before.

"Think fast," Race warned the expecting drinker as he slid the tinted glass bottle over his way. It turned out the man was so drunk, his hand was about five inches short of where the bottle would have been. Everybody got to listen as the liquid and glass fell right over and shattered against the wooden floor (hey, Race might have slid it at a slightly human rate, but it was still vampire strong, if that made sense). Quickly he snatched a second bottle and placed it right inside the drinker's hand and acted in praise as if the man had actually caught it.

[Jaclyn Banx]

Jackie shuddered violently at the drunken man who missed his drink. People like him scared her; her father had been a drunk, on occasion. She'd had the displeasure of being around on some nights when he had drank--the sight had been terrifying in her mind. Screaming, the throwing around of objects, the tossing of profanities. And if the children (she, her brother, and their younger sister) dared to misbehave when he was like this--it was the belt.

The belt was the worse thing on Earth; of that, Jaclyn was convinced.

But she was also quite certain that beer was stupid; she didn't know why her brother drank it, nor why anyone else did, for that matter. Slowly, and hesitantly, she walked towards the counter. She might as well as the bartender; he must have been there for at least a few hours, maybe even an hour. It would be unfortunate if that wasn't the case, but...it was worth a shot, was it not?

Carefully she stood next to the man who hadn't had any luck at catching his drink. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, er, sir," she mumbled to the bartender, trying to speak loudly but failing miserably because of how simply uncomfortable she was. "Do you happen to know if a guy named Leo Banx was in here? Or is in here?" She glanced around. "I-I kinda need to find him, he's my, uhm, older brother." When Jaclyn was extremely worried and nervous and, well, frazzeled, she tended to babble like an idiot, or say far too much.

Very discreetly, she leaned away from the man to her left, only to bump into one at her right. She winced as she received a piercing glare and blurted an apology.

[Race Vescan]

... but not in the right way ...

As the Marlins' manager got pissed off over a perfectly good call by the umpire, Race's ears picked up some very soft mumbling—a girl's, at that. Most people with a voice as innocent as the sound of hers wouldn't dare ask anyone who was at the counter, so he got the impression that she was speaking to the one and only bartender that evening. Quickly (rather unnaturally at that, considering his vampire reflexes played in unexpectedly) Race dropped a Bloody Mary over by another drinker before finding himself in front of the speaker. "You rang?" he asked as he was addressed.

"Do you happen to know if a guy named Leo Banx was in here? Or is in here?" the werewolf proceeded to ask. "I-I kinda need to find him, he's my, uhm, older brother."That was a familiar name for sure, but he was pretty sure he hadn't heard it in the past couple of hours, nor had he seen his face. Sometimes the guys would have one person buy all the beers and take them to their little posse, so maybe Leo was doing that kind of thing tonight? Race had his doubts, but people always made new friends.

"Not t'night, I'm 'fraid," the bartender replied with a subtle shrug and a leak of his North Carolinian accent. "But he was here last time I tended."

Race took note of the girl's behavior, how she seemed to fear the other drinkers. There wasn't really any reason to fear people at the bar unless a brawl was in session, so why would she act so nervous? Once more, Race wondered whether or not to check for age confirmation. Eh, she wasn't trying to drink yet, so he wasn't going to bother.

Still, he wanted to help the girl out some. What was it that Leo drank again? Beers, right. "Normally he'd be by the Buds rather than the Bacardi," Race added, jerking his thumb towards the shelves of liquor behind him. Coincidentally, the man who'd ordered a Budweiser earlier asked now for a Bud Light in the middle of his sentence, so he headed over in that direction with a gesture for her to follow in search. (Yes, he was one of the... nicer bartenders.)

[Jaclyn Banx]

Jackie's frame drooped and she frowned, her hand raising to her lip. She started to pull at it lightly, to stop herself from biting. She'd been trying for years to break the painful habit of chewing on her lip, only to develop the new one of nervously fondling her lip instead. She sighed softly, asking in another mumble, "A-are you sure, though? I-I mean he's kinda hard to uhm, miss."

She fell silent as he continued, pointing out what kind of beer her brother liked. She winced. That sounded like Leo; she'd tasted one of those before, just a sip, out of curiosity, and she'd nearly thrown up. She didn't know why alcoholic beverages repulsed her so, they sort of just...did!

Shrugging this off mentally, she listened to him talking. As he talked, the man on her right got up and left after placing a five dollar bill down for his drink in place. In his spot sat a more lively (i.e., less drunk) man. Or at least, he seemed to be. He rapped his fist gently on the counter and said, "Hey! Vescan, my pal. Hook me up with something strong, would'ya?"

Suddenly he looked to where Jackie stood, and he grinned. "Jackie!" he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side in a tight, awkward hug.

Her face was squished into his arm pit; a pit that reeked of an onion like stench. She did her best to hold her breath, and she mumbled, "Hi, Billy." Billy was one of Leo's asinine friends who she strongly disliked. Billy, meanwhile, seemed to think she loved him or something.

"Ves! I changed my mind! Two, one for me, and one for the little lady." He ruffled Jackie's hair.

Looking disheveled and unhappy, Jackie squirmed away. She began to smooth her hair down with a lightly trembling hand. "U-uhmmm, Billy, no, I don't think so. Thanks anyway though. Uhm, you seen Leo?"

"Nope, no sign of the kid." He shrugged. "Awwwh, Jackie, don't be such a baby! Just one drink. I'll walk you home." He winked.

Jackie looked as if she wanted to just disappear.

[Race Vescan]

--- i'm falling in between ---

Race looked back to where the girl was and listened to what she had to say. "Ain't that the truth," he chuckled. He could have sworn there was some bar fight with Leo involved the last time he tended the bar—or at least he was pretty sure it was Leo. Race had also forgotten to get a drink before taking his shift that day as well, which made him care more about getting some blood rather than watching brawls then. In the end it would all come down to whatever Heather felt like making out of the situation.

Billy's surprisingly sober (well, more so than usual) voice caught the bartender's attention, and he walked towards it, quick enough to find him nearly suffocating the poor werewolf in a hug of some sort. "'Ey Bill, y'acting like this ain't your first one," Race teased the drinker a bit.

Then he heard him change his order, one that entered a topic he'd prefer not to enter. Race wasn't even fully sure if the troubled lady here was of age to be drinking. Well, it seemed like Billy knew her well enough, and since he was ordering, perhaps she really was of age. Although, he couldn't tell for sure if he was sober... Damn, he hated assumptions, especially when it came to legal terms.

Well, Race began to reason with himself. She seems honest enough. She'll probably speak up if she isn't allowed to take a sip.

All of that went by in a second as the vampire made his decision.

"Gotcha," he responded, back by the liquor bottles in a blur. What he'd probably end up doing is give Billy a shot or two of vodka while the girl—hm. Would it be safer to go with champagne or an Izze? They were both sparkling beverages... Eh, he figured it'd be best to slip an Izze in the glass instead of alcohol. It wouldn't be pretty if a teenager was found intoxicated. Luckily there was always a spare cooler of Izze cans hidden behind the counter in case some kid came in and wanted to look cool real quick, so Race settled to pour one of those in a glass before anyone had a prayer of watching him.

About five seconds after he'd left the couple to do whatever they were doing, the bartender had the hoax and the vodka brewed, and he dropped them by the two, choosing not to reveal that the werewolf was given an Izze—or that she was given "champagne".

[Jaclyn Banx]

Billy just winked at Race, a chuckling rumbling through his barrel-like chest. He was a big guy, no doubt about that. Six-foot something and two hundred and thirty pounds; a hippopotamus could easily be his second cousin. He shared the same dark skin (although he wasn't black, just tanned from the weather) that appeared to be--and certainly was--leathery. He and said animal could be compared in facial features. Let's just say Billy wasn't a real looker; he had a long kind of face that encompassed a nose one could mistake for a potato. His eyes were set deep in his skull, and his shaggy mop of dark brown hair fell just past his brow. There was one slightly attractive feature to the man: his eyes. His eyes were the most piercing shade of blue, as clear as the sky on a cloudless day.

Jackie couldn't help but think that it was a shame he was so ugly. When the drink was placed in front of her, she blanched and glanced up. Gently she used the very tips of her fingers to push it away an inch or two."I can't--"

"'Courseyacan!" Billy chortled deeply, picking up his drink, nodding his head in thanks to Race, and then taking a hearty swig. Trembling, Jackie stared up at him, watching as a drip or two of the liquid oozed from the corner of Billy's mouth. It dribbled down his chin and formed an orb on the unshaven steel wool that occupied his jaw. "Common, sweetie, live a little!"

He nudged her, and she was rather jostled, for he wasn't being at all gentle. She eyed him for a moment, still seeming to shake slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sorry excuse for a word, a squeak.

"Look, if you just drink the drink I'm payin' for, I'll help ya find yer brother, mkay?" Billy rolled his eyes, feeling the liquid on his face finally and rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Promise?"

[/color] Her eyes darted from his face down to the drink and back again.

He made a sound like a snort, nodding his head and grunting something.

"I--I--..." She sighed. "Alright." Her fingers wrapped around the glass and she lifted it to her lips. When she took a sip after a moment of staring cross eyed into the liquid, her whole frame relaxed and her eyes darted over towards the bartender. The left side of her lips twitched into a smile, and she gave a tiny bob of her head. That was her way of thanking him; she didn't want Billy to know the drink was fake. She had a sinking feeling that he was forcing her to do this for a reason. And of course, this feeling was confirmed when his heavy arm flopped around her again.

She glanced over and up towards him. There was the oddest gleam in his eye; a hunger. She wasn't sure what the craving was for exactly, but her stomach knotted as soon as she noticed it. So just silently she drank, ignoring the fact that his hand seemed to be happily on her hip--and trying to sneak backwards.

Not creepy, not creepy at all. She thought to herself.[/right]

[Race Vescan]

te—aring u/p at th\e se#ams

Race proceeded to tune in to just about every conversation by the counter as most bartenders did, passing out champagne and Bud Limes all the while. It appeared the Miami Dolphins had lost another game, same with the Florida Marlins, somebody just got divorced, someone's teenager just got pregnant, Billy Bob Joe got his finger ripped open—ah, so the young girl was going to get free assistance in finding Leo. She lucked out; not a lot of drinkers would offer something like that, especially if they'd just gotten served a liquor of some sort. He glanced over just in time to see the girl provide a small smile and nod of the head, and he returned the favor, adding in the quickest wink before getting asked again for something strong.

Once Ves had handed out the ordered drink, he took a quick sweep around the counter for payments, and saw a couple other things along the way. Some whore was making out with one of the regular customers (he'd seen her go home with someone else the other night), it looked like a couple punches were about to get thrown in the corner—well, who'd have thunk it. Maybe the help wasn't for free, Race quickly distinguished the scene nearby. This girl didn't seem like the kind of girl to go around sleeping with adults. Heck, she didn't even look the type to be coming to a pub. Still, Billy appeared to be a family friend of Leo's and—Jackie, was that what he called her?—so maybe this was normal for them elsewhere?

You do realize he isn't sober, right? Race asked himself. And that usually intoxication and sex don't really coincide well?

Even so, he wasn't quite sure exactly how to react. For the time being he just kept a check on the event while fulfilling the rest of the orders and making sure nobody threw a beer bottle at a television.

[Jaclyn Banx]

Billy's eyes averted to the nearest television for a moment, and dumbly he watched. Jackie stared at him, waiting for him to look back at her or to totally become entranced. When he showed no sign of doing either, she began to move.

Silently her hands set the drink down. They were trembling lightly, and her palms were sweating buckets. She was surprised that Billy hadn't noticed how nervous and frightful she was. Not that she didn't mind that; she had another one of her feelings that if he did realize she was starting to get antsy, to get uncomfortable, that would just make things a helluva lot worse. While she considered this, she slowly began to lean away from him, one of her arms going back to remove his firm grip on her hip.

But Billy noticed that. His eyes snapped back over to her, and his lips pursed in a pout. "What'cha doin', Jackie?" he said, almost cooing. Out of spite, he grabbed her butt.

As if she hadn't been traumatized enough! Her eyes widened and her elbow swung out backwards, knocking his arm and hand away from her. She took two quick steps back and stared at him, her eyes round saucers on her face. He snorted, tilting his head slightly to one side and arching an eyebrow. He was waiting for her to say something, wasn't he.

She took a deep breath, suddenly thinking of a fair excuse. "I--uhm--have to go to the bathroom," she mumbled, averting her eyes to the floor and nodding. Common, take the bate, believe me, just point me over to the bathroom and believe me--

"Oh." He shrugged, jerking his chin(s) in the direction of the women's restroom, not too far away, but through a slight mass of people. "Ri'thar."

Jaclyn offered a weak smile, nodding a little and murmuring an almost inaudible thank you. She gave her drink one last look, wondering whether or not it was safe to leave it with him. She wasn't stupid. If he was already trying to get her to "relax" and "live a little," then she could only assume that he was drunker than he looked and trying to get down her pants. She shuddered, turning and darting off towards the restroom.

As soon as she was out of sight, Billy did, too, look down at her drink. He didn't slip something in it, no. But instead, he picked it up and sniffed it. Slowly, a scowl settled on his face, bringing down his already highly unpleasant features to a new, unattractive scrunch of annoyance. He took a sip to confirm his beliefs, and then practically slammed the innocent beverage down. "Race, my good friend, can you come here a second?" he snarled, drumming his fingers. "And explain to me; what is this fizzy shit? Some kinda...soda?!"

Meanwhile, Jaclyn had made it through the thick throng of hormones, alcohol, and body odor. She knocked lightly on the door. Once. Twice. No response. Reaching for the handle, she turned--to discover that no one was in the single-toilet bathroom. Her shoulders slumped happily, and she sighed in relief. Quickly she darted in and shut the door behind her, locking it tightly and leaning against it. Her head turned slightly, and she looked at her reflection in the grimy mirror.

She laughed. "I look terrible!" she mused, shaking her head a little. "God." She reached out, staring down at her still-trembling hand. What was she, part chihuahua? Brushing that aside in her mind, she turned on the warm water and doused her face gently. After she did so, she let her head hang above the sink; she spat out a little of the water and watched it drip silently down. Her hand groped for a paper towel, and one she found one, she dried herself.

What was she going to do? If Billy continued to act this way, she knew that she'd end up "paying" for his services in finding Leo in a way that she simply couldn't afford. A shudder tingled its way down her spine again, and she felt bile raise in her throat. The very thought was revolting.

Turning slightly, she glance at the toilet, and then back behind her at the bare wall. What was she going to do? What was she going todo?

Just then, a flash of a shadow caught Jackie's eye, and her head snapped up. There, above the toilet, high up near the ceiling, was a window. It appeared to have no screen, and be the kind that was opened by a crank. Her eyes widened in delight when she gauged that she could probably fit through it.

Oh! It was as simple as that. She would just climb out the window.

She found herself shutting the lid of the john and clambering to stand on top of it--as well as holding her breath. Since the little window was shut, the fumes of vomit and urine from the bathroom (which was in need of a good clean) around her nearly made her light headed. She ignored them, straightening her shoulders as her fingers curled around the crank.

{Wow...that was freakishly long. ._.}

[Race Vescan]

we're just aiming to please...

Race passed a bottle off to some chick just as he heard a couple of extra words from the main conversation he was tuning into. Something about the bathroom (those Izze cans hadn't expired, had they?), its location, and—

Oh, shit. If this was going to turn into a bar fight, then damn it all. If not, thank God, 'cause the last thing he needed to do was beat up a(nother) drinker during his days as a bartender. And don't deny it, Billy wouldn't be the victor, even if he was a vampire (whether he really was, Race wasn't sure). Unless, of course, this intoxication would somehow make his possible to-be opponent stronger.

Acting relaxed, Ves walked over to where the beckoning drinker lingered, though his quick reflexes had him in front of the drunken man faster than most human walks would have. "You rang?" he automatically repeated his typical responding line. From there he slipped into his cool (not the popular kind) attitude in order to face the situation, and added in an under-his-breath tone so nobody else would form a riot. He even bent down so his clasped hands were resting on the counter top. "I can tell she's a teenager; I'm not that dumb." That was sort of lying and sort of not. Race sure as hell hoped he wasn't that dumb, but whether Jackie was nineteen or twenty, he wasn't firm upon. "This is the only pub in Simbol, and if a drunk kid is found driving around, they'll know I was tending t'night at the one bar in town and throw my ass in jail." Race folded his arms over one another before continuing. "Plus it seems like she'll be the one driving—you home, maybe."

If Billy was sober enough to suspect something of the drink he'd given the werewolf, then who knew what would end up turning into each of their faces once those words Race just said were processed. Oh well, as long as the police don't decide to sneak in, things should go by somewhat smoothly. Even then, maybe a little extra blood wouldn't hurt... The bartender caught himself before he bared his fangs in interest.

Just then, Race noticed that something was missing. Where was Jackie? Usually it didn't take this long for someone to use the restroom. Huh, maybe that Izze really had expired.

[Quite so. o:]

[Jaclyn Banx]

Billy snorted. "I'm sorry for mistaking you for an idiot," he replied, sarcasm icing his tone. "She's nineteen, that's close enough, isn't it?" He shifted a little, frowning. "Who gives a shit, man! Common! The only way I'm going to get anywhere with 'er is if she's freken half in the bag!" His great brow furrowed like a barren corn field, and he sipped form his his drink.

"Case your smart brain han'nt noticed, she's pretty damn prude." He glared at the liquid that was starting to give him a strong buzz. "But incredibly gorgeous." Billy's mountainous shoulders shrugged. "It wouldn't kill you to put one shot in that stupid soda, would it, Race?" He rolled his eyes.

But then he paused, too. "What's taking her so long?"

Meanwhile, Jaclyn Banx was quickly slamming the crank around. It was taking forever to open the window--and creaking dramatically as it did so--as a result, she was becoming increasingly frustrated. When finally a gap was large enough that she was almost certain she could fit through, she carefully stepped onto the back of the toilet.

Fresh, crisp, cool and damp air flowed in through the window. She leaned forward, tentatively poking her nose out and inhaling deeply. "Mmmm," she whispered, smiling brightly.

The next step was trying to get out of the window without killing herself.

She could see that it wasn't far from window to pavement, and, standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck, she discovered that there were garbage cans below her. Near by, there was the window in the guy's bathroom. And further to the left was the back door to the whole place, along with a few more garbage cans. She took a deep breath. Was she ready to do this? Could she do this? Was she going to--

"Stop thinking, Jackie, and just do it already." she whispered, flexing her fingers as she gripped the edge of the window. The very tips of her fingers brushed against the brick around her; she could do this! Yeah!

She could do this! She pulled herself to where one leg was connected with the toilet, and she forced herself forwards. Her neck went out, and everything was alright.

Yeah! She was doing it! Her shoulders came next, nearly getting stuck--but thankfully, her build was skinny. Almost there. Just the rest of her body and then she'd be out. She kicked, the flat base of the shoe she wore slipping against the toilet.

Oh, crap. She was suddenly just hanging there, her arms out of the window and clinging to the bricks around her legs swinging above the ground. They scrabbled against the wall, but that got her no where, because she started to teeter dangerously.

And so she hang, her eyes wide. "Oh, crap."

[Race Vescan]

.:* and aesthetics don't hurt one bit *:.

Race rolled his deep blue eyes behind closed lids, and reopened them as Billy slipped out of his sarcastic suit. So she was nineteen, and he was interested for more reasons than being drunk. "Normally nineteen's younger than my standards require, but..."

Race paused to consider the legal issues. The worst thing that could happen would be the police popping in and trying to arrest him for serving alcohol to an underage consumer. He could always just rip open their necks and be done with it. Unfortunately, he probably couldn't react similarly if Leo or a guardian came in and tried to beat him up. However, he could always just go by as if he didn't know that she wasn't supposed to have booze, as only people twenty one and older were allowed in the bar... Oh, heck, why not?

"Alright, fine, I'll slip something not too noticeable in there," he agreed, turning to go where the perfect white wine for the job sat. "But if you end up broken in a week, I'll be laughing," Race joked with a kidding smirk before fetching the beverage. Quickly he returned, bottle in hand, and began dripping in a few subtle tastings of wine into the caffeinated fraud.

As he was completing the deed, Billy queried upon his to-be "partner's" whereabouts. Race lifted his eyebrows, and looked in the direction of the ladies' restroom. Was that the faint sound of cranking his vampire ears were detecting? Maybe she was just turning on the sink water to wash her hands. He'd share his assumption with Billy, but once more, he was unsure if the drunken man was aware of the supernatural, and superior hearing like that may cause him to question for the worst. So instead, the vampire shrugged his shoulders and murmured, "Dunno."

[Do you want me to make some random person to come around and seek Jackie? xD]

[Also, cloning Race, don't feel weird if you see him simultaneously hanging out somewhere else. ^^;]

[Jaclyn Banx]

"Thank you." Billy shot him the broadest grin, slipping his hand into his pocket for his wallet. A moment later there on the counter before him sat a twenty, what Billy considered to be a hefty tip. He winked at Race, sipping from his own drink again.

"You're the best, man," He chortled. "I'm just prayin' that 'er brother d'n't find out, if'n I can convince 'er anyways. 'E'd rip me to pieces! Mighty protective 'e is, ehh." Billy rolled his eyes.

After a moment or so of brief "silence" (and the word silence is surrounded by those quotes because, quite simply, the only time a popular bar is quite is when it's closed; drunken ramble is never soft, not even in a crisis situation) Billy glanced up at Race.

"She's been forever," He scratched himself. "There a windah in there or sum'in'? Maybe she went out to get a bita fresharr." He had a pretty good idea that smart little Jackie would try something like that. The girl, though sheltered, wasn't blind. She knew him well and she knew he'd been after her since he'd met her; that hadn't been that long ago--at tops, two years. But in two years the both of them had learned each other's thoughts and habits to a quite surprising depth.

"Gocheck," Billy glanced up at Race with an expression that said, 'I'm willing to lay down another twenty if you do....'

Meanwhile, our poor little heroine, Jaclyn, was unheroically stuck. She moaned, hanging her head in shame. This was probably the worst break out attempt on record. Er, well, it would be, if there was a record of break out attempts.

She lay there, dangling in mid air, her belly and chest starting to ache from the pressure of holding herself up. She tried to move slightly. The moment came quickly, before her brain could even react. It was just a slight movement, an uneven twitch of her shoulders, as if she were shrugging. But it was a stupid mistake; some how, as a result of that slight jerk, she was stuck.

Completely.

Utterly.

Stuck.

She whimpered, her arms sticking out straight in front of her. She reached out as far as she could, wiggling her fingers and trying to jerk herself free. Nothing worked. She had managed to accidentally wedge her shoulders in sideways, so that now she was even more uncomfortable than before.

Jaclyn, who never cursed, did so now out of anger: "GOD DAMN IT!" Even though she was alone, her face flushed, and she mumbled very quickly afterwards, "Whoops, er, I mean, dosh darn it....heh...."

(Yes, please. xD Anyone will do, including Race, although it doesn't matter. -shrugs-)
(and mkays! xD)

[Race Vescan]

v.v so follow me down v.v

And so attention returned to the the person who'd pretty much started this whole little bar story: Leon Banx. Sure, it was indirect, but Race still dubbed him as the reason. "I'm guessing that's what he's like when he's sober, then," the bartender slipped in a few extra words before the silence overcame the two.

Race glanced back down to the seated Billy, who was asking yet another favor of him. He hesitated for a moment. Just to be on the safe side, he would probably need to create some major distraction so that not too many people would be demanding drinks while he was checking on something (there was an unusually high amount of consumers at that moment). Whether he could think of something or not, he would definitely follow through, so what if Race couldn't fully trust the drinker's expression. At this point, it was just a matter of rapidly concocting some distraction, which didn't take all that long, being a vampire.

"Er, sure," the bartender agreed, his hand swiping over the twenty dollar bill he'd pretended to be oblivious to just moments ago. Uncertainty still lingered in his tone, for he wasn't sure if people would be interested in what he had in mind or not. Well, it was now or never. Race directed his attention towards the bar as a whole before projecting his voice: "'Ey, first one to find the wine bottle cap with a Serpent Eight on the bottom gets free alcohol for a month." From between his thumb and index finger, he held the exact metal circle that would hopefully catch people's attention—and it really did have the said symbol on it. With a flick of his wrist, the cap had sped off, surely miles away just seconds after he tossed it.

Just like at least half of the people in the bar—and Race, as he sneaked into the bathroom. A towel from his back pocket was now in his hand, and he was looking around the room, hoping to appear as if he were searching for rumored vomit rather than anything along the lines of a good time. That was just when Jackie blurted, "GODDAMN IT!", only to timidly attempt at censoring herself immediately afterward. A little smirk found a seat on Race's face, as it sounded like something the werewolf would do.

"Y'all right?" the bartender asked, just loud enough for her to probably hear... wherever she was. If he went searching, that would definitely look suspicious, which wouldn't be good for himself. Once more, he hoped she would buy any bull that said he was cleaning up a mess someone made.