(2018-02-07) Someone's Gotta Keep Folks Safe
Someone's Gotta Keep Folks Safe
Summary: Harris and Audgrim have a chance encounter.
Date: IC Date (2018-02-07)
Related: None
Player Characters: Audgrim, Harris

Main Room - Dockrats Pool Hall and Bar - Harbourfront

The lighting in this seedy dive is low, the drinks are cheap and watered down, and the customers are the sort who don't have much to say unless money is exchanging hands. It's a rough crowd and it shows in the wear and tear on the pool tables, bar, rickety booths, and stools. Some of the walls even have suspiciously head-sized dents in them.

A heavily stained gray carpet helps mask some of the stains, or at least keeps them from being easily identified. The walls are painted a dark mustard color, except for the white splotches of joint compound spread here and there to patch up the dents and holes of prior fights. The felt of the tables is a uniform faded green and the racks of cues look like they've seen better days.

A few dart boards, of the manual, not electric, kind, are settled in one corner and the long bar occupies one wall of the floor with its array of cheap beverages in questionably clean glasses.

This is a dive bar. This is a seedy dive bar which is frequented by a very rough class of people and criminals. If you are young or attractive, clearly female, or look like you stepped out of the J. Crew or Victoria's secret catalog you will be hassled, probably not even let in due to the ruckus it would cause, and possibly worse things.

From looks alone, Audgrim fits right in here; he looks like he sleeps in a gutter and eat rats to survive. If not for the fact that shirt looks fairly new and he's carrying a violin on his back, he might not stick out much as he slinks inside and looks around with lazy curiosity. He wets his lips and looks towards the bar, then digs a hand into a pocket to dig out a few rumpled dollar bills and some coins, counting them as he saunters towards the counter. Even so, he's not unaware - he steals glances around, and that laziness is deceptive for a trained eye.

Jim Harris is already here, settling his bulk into a bar stool. "Whiskey, straight up," he growls to the bartender, digging into his shirt pocket for his pack of Winstons and his Zippo. He shakes one from the pack and puts it in his mouth, setting the pack on the bar before thumbing open his Zippo to light up. The big guy looks like he's seen better days, given the dark circles under his eyes and the rumpled look of his clothes. Could be he's even slept in them—assuming he's slept at all. He nods to the tender as his whiskey gets brought to him, picking it up to guzzle a long swallow. A glance is given to Audgrim, followed by a curt nod.

Audgrim takes the seat right next to Harris, nodding back, as if considering it half an invite. He drops his money on the counter and holds up coins, squinting at them, like he doesn't know what value they have - a foreigner thing to do. "Beer," he rasps out, "please." He rolls his R, like someone European. He pushes the money over, letting the bartender sort out what he can get for what he has, and is promptly given a bottle of some cheap stuff with no fuss. Pushing his coat back, Audgrim sits down and then leans over the counter on his elbows; he yawns widely, displaying a row of impressively white teeth. He takes a sip of the beer, tilts his head and considers whether he likes it or not. Then he shrugs, and drinks some more, eyeing Harris with the sort of curiosity that might get you beaten up in this place.

For his part, Harris goes back to drinking and smoking, paying Audgrim no further mind. He makes short work of his whiskey, setting the glass down and pushing it over to be refilled. "I'll take another," he growls. Noticing Audgrim, looking his way, he glances over. "How's it goin'?" he asks.

Audgrim sniffs the air a bit, like he's smelling something interesting - and he eyes the whiskey with some amazement. But he seem fine with his beer, drinking it slowly. He blinks as Harris talks to him. "Going good," he responds, sitting up a bit straighter like he's happy to be social. "This bar smell strange," he notes matter of factly, "but is close to water, so not bad. I not be in other bar in America before, look like in movie I saw many years ago." He rubs a stain on the bar with a finger and then sniffs it, before wiping his finger off. Totally normal behaviour. It's the other hand he holds out to shake though, introducing himself. "I am Audgrim."

Well, whatever country Audgrim might be from, that behavior has the burly cop arching a gray brow. "Hunh," he mutters around a gust of smoke. "Well. Welcome to 'merica, buddy." He takes the hand offered him, giving it a shake. "Jim. How ya doin'?" He reaches over to ash his cigarette, glancing back at Audgrim. "So, ah… what brings you to the States?" he asks.

Audgrim's handshake is firm and absolutely normal. He slouches against the counter again, one arm resting on it and facing Harris halfway, for easier conversation. He scratches the side of his neck as if not sure how to answer, a blank look on his face. "I jump off boat," he finally says. "Then I swam." He grins broadly, looking quite proud about this achievement. "I was fish…man. Fisherman?"

Well. Whatever answer he'd been expecting, -that- one certainly has old Jim arching a brow. "You… swam," he says. Given the last few days the big man's been having, he's willing to accept just about anything. He picks up his fresh whiskey and guzzles a swallow. "Okay. Sure. Why the hell not?" He pauses a moment, his cigarette halfway to his mouth, then peers a bit more closely. "You got papers, right?" he says.

"Yes. Swim," Audgrim confirms with a firm nod, taking a few gulps of the beer, about half of it gone now; he seem to savor it to make it last longer. Maybe he only had enough money for one. As he's asked about the papers, he peers a bit suspiciously at Harris. "Yes…. I am real person, now."

Jim pulls heftily at his cigarette, making the cherry flare up before he lets the smoke loose. "What… weren't you real before?" he asks. The question seems to strike a chord in the big man, making his usual scowl darken sourly. "What am I sayin'. -'course- you were real before," he mutters. He picks up his whiskey and knocks it back. "Keep 'em comin'," he says to the bartender, pushing the empty glass back his direction.

"I was always real, but there was time when things were not so real but very bad," Audgrim responds quietly and grimly, his expression dark at some horrible memories. "I am better now. But America is very, very strange place, sometime I think I am in dream," he adds, and grins a little - he's only half-joking though, an underlying wariness in those dark eyes. "But most things here are real, that is better."

Those words… 'I am in dream'… -that- has the big cop's feathers thoroughly ruffled. He clears his throat, taking one last pull off his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray. "Hate when that happens," he grumbles, picking up his fresh whiskey and slugging back a swallow. The big guy can sure pack the booze away, when he sets his mind to it. "Prefer things to stay completely real, myself."

Maybe it's random chance, or something else in play, that Harris meets Audgrim of all people in this bar. Or maybe Audgrim senses something unconsciously - a whiff of the Hedge perhaps. Whatever it is, here they are now. "Me too," he admits and raises his bottle in a little toast. "Now, there is internet and on it are lots of cats. Not feel very real to me," he says, shaking his head at it all. Then he leans closer and tells Harris intently, eyes boring into his: "Watch out for things in dreams. And doors that were not there before. Or falling in sea - this water here, very bad. Don't fall in."

That warning has ol' Jim sitting bolt upright. "You've -seen- 'em?" he grunts, before he even realizes the words have left his mouth. He blinks, looking around warily, then leans in a bit closer. "Who are you?" he growls softly. "Are you… one of -them-?" His tone pitched in such a way as to leave little doubt as to which -them- he might be referring to.

Audgrim only meant to give a warning to one of the few humans he's talked to since coming here, so he's a bit startled by Jim's reaction. His eyes narrow and though Harris can't see it, his tail is slowly swinging behind him, as if ready for trouble. He takes another sip of his beer, faintly uncertain how to go on from here. "I have see many things," he quietly responds with his raspy but not unpleasant voice. "If you seen… them, then you walk through wrong door. Not good." He is a bit agigated, because he's trapped himself here and isn't sure how to go on with someone who knows something but not all. "I should help you. You in danger now."

Jim scowls darkly, reaching for his Winstons. He shakes another cigarette from the pack and lights it. "I don't know -what- I saw. I thought it was a dream," he growls softly around a gust of smoke. He fixes Audgrim with a steely glower. "What do you mean, I'm in danger now?" he growls. That thought doesn't seem to do much to lighten the big man's mood. And why would it?

"Don't think it is dream. Not a dream. It is very real, and very dangerous. You know it is real, in here," Audgrim says and taps his head with a knuckle, speaking intently. "It. Is. Real." He can't emphasise that enough, wanting Harris to not just shake it off. He doesn't speak loudly, limting his speech to a near murmur and keeping an eye around the place so nobody can come too close to hear. Not something you just babble openly about, after all. "Not sure, but going to Other place - can change you. And people - things - in Other place maybe saw you." He finishes his beer. "You be careful with doors. Or water. Or…" He grimaces. "People get Lost everywhere. But some come back…"

Jim listens carefully, a dark scowl on his face. His whiskey all but forgotten as he smokes quietly, taking in every word. "It changes you," he mutters softly. "In… all kinds of ways, I'm guessin'. Turn you into a freakshow. Like a bug-man. Or a mechanical woman. Am I right?"

Audgrim's eye twitches a little and he now stares at Jim with wide eyes, something he said hitting a bit too close to home - but the reaction itself speaks volumes. Harris is right. "You can not know all this," he half protests. "Not good, not good," he says and shakes his head, muttering to himself. "Too much in Port Angeles. Too much strange. You ask too many things, but knowing too much, is not good. Just wanted to say, be careful."

Jim grunts softly. "I'm a cop. It's my job to know things," he grumbles. "Someone's gotta keep folks safe. That's what -I- do." He picks up his whiskey and slugs back a swallow. "You said your name was Audgrim?" he says. "So tell me, Audgrim… how do -you- know all this shit?"

Uhoh. Audgrim gets a bit of a shifty look, and squirms on his seat. "Ah police," he notes with dry humor. He should've known. He spins his empty beer bottle around, and responds with equally dry humor. "I fell in the water. Told you - don't fall in water." He seem to regain his composure quickly enough, giving Jim a very, VERY toothy grin, a bit too wide for it to be normal. "Police like ask questions, I understand. And you be more safe than other people because you are cop." He seem a bit comforted by that, like he's willing to let Jim handle himself.

Jim nods his head. "Don't fall in water. Gotcha. I'll, ah… keep that in mind." He finishes off his whiskey, studying the empty glass for a moment, before setting it down. He doesn't ask for another just yet. He just lapses into silence, glancing towards Audgrim as he smokes in silence. His gaze, however, gains an intent focus to it as he begins reaching out with his psychic talents, searching for the other man's thoughts…

Audgrim is completely unaware his head is to be invaded, so to speak. He is eyeing his beer bottle a little sadly, then perks up as someone's left about a third of beer in a bottle nearby - he snatches it and sips it. Not afraid of germs, apparently. "Don't think all water bad," he says, now conversational, once this first awkwardness has passed. "Think bath tub is fine." Harris gets the very clear image of Audgrim from his psychic ability: he's greyskinned, he has horns, a tail, yellow eyes and oddly enough,webbed fingers like someone aquatic. Otherwise his appearance is much the same as his human appearance. But there's something beastial about him, more than demonic, like he's half animal, half demon.

Jim's eyes glaze over as he makes his contact, delving into Audgrim's mind. It's always harder, reaching the thoughts of those who are more than mortal. But that image has him sitting up straight in his seat, sucking in a breath. He clears his throat. "Whoah. Probably had a bit much to drink there," he mutters, giving himself a shake. "And… yeah. Bathtubs. They're okay. I'm a shower man myself, though." He finishes his cigarette, snuffing it out in the ashtray. He digs for his phone and thumbs the screen. "Well," he says. "It's getting to be about time for me to head to the station. Real nice meetin' you, Audgrim. Maybe I'll see ya 'round." He gives his phone a subtle turn of the wrist, snapping a couple quick pics of the man on the downlow, before he pockets the device. Scooping up his pack of smokes, those get tucked into his shirt pocket as well. "See ya round, buddy." With that, he gets to his feet and heads for the door.

Audgrim is way too naive for his own good, sometimes. Or not the brightest. He has no idea his picture gets taken, partly cause he barely understand phones. He's happy with his second hand beer, nodding at Jim. "Yes, maybe see you," he agrees, raising his bottle at him in a farewell. "Watch doors!" he calls after Jim, getting a few quick strange looks from the other patrons.

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