The Hub Club - Open RP

[Brian]

January 18th, 2014
6:30pm

Even despite the recent excitement, the Los Angeles nighttime hookup spot known as the Hub Club has suffered little bad publicity; any it has garnered has fallen on deaf ears. Even with broken windows, a few lingering bloodstains and the stigma of a terrorist attack hanging over it, the Club is open and people are beginning to pour in. Sparse though it is now, bartender Boz Bailey is expecting a reasonably full house and has begun polishing glasses accordingly.

Some would call it dilapidated; its regulars call it "techno-grunge".

There are few patrons inside, yet; a few sporadically strung out across the chill spaces, a couple sitting at the bar in relative quiet, and a completely empty dance floor.

The doors are open and the patrons begin to flow in, eager for their evening's shelter from the oppressive outdoors, great gray clouds hanging fittingly over Silverman's America.

[Uncle Vanya]

He could not just leave it the fuck alone. No, not looking at the past was a thing of the past for Kostya. For a long time now he could do little but look at the past. So he found himself lighting up another cigarette outside the Hub Club. The sweet, self-destructive fumes filled his lungs with the numbness that he needed to take the next step forward. Its not like he had anything better to do now. He lost his job, that was a five grand man that was taken away at gunpoint. When one is low on dough, there is only one thing to do. Drown your troubles in numbness and alcohol.

He made his way upstairs, the bouncer, as per usual, missed the flick knife in his boot. Upstairs there was nothing but painful memories. At least these memories were less painless than many others. As long as he had these keeping his mind occupied it would be easy. He took a seat in the exact same spot where he shot the reporter that was using some kind of strange anomaly mind control powers on Mark. Wasn’t hard to imagine a bullet piercing his own chest, he knew the feeling well enough. Directly across the room he could still make out the dent that his face made on the bench. The scars were not likely to heal properly, especially since he would not step into a proper hospital. He definitely did not need any paperwork associated with him. The drunk he used was a good enough doc, quite used to cleaning up shit like that for the Bratva.

“Hell, ain’t like twas a that much of a face to begin with,” he muttered under his breath

His eyes scanned the crowd. It was far too early for the dealers to make an appearance, which was ok for now. He ordered some cheap, shitty whiskey to keep himself occupied. He relished the nasty burning sensation dripping down his throat.

[Anna K]

It was just one of those really awful days, Chelsea thought, as she stomped up the stairs into the Hub Club and threw herself onto the first empty seat at the bar she could find, next to another patron who was looking morosely at an empty whiskey glass.

“Godamnit,” she mutters, rummaging through a green handbag, “don’t tell me I lost it.”

She thinks for a moment then reaches into the pocket of her nice denim jacket and pulls out a wallet. She sighs with relief, pulls some money out and tucks the wallet securely into the green handbag.

“Boz, give me something strong. I’m having the worst day. I’ve just been fired.”

[Aitrus]

Ethan liked this place. Apart from the occasional cop visit, it was a good bar.
He walked past the bouncer and nodded greeting, the small brown box hardly noticeable when passed between them.

Ethan ascended the steps. "Boz! How's it going tonight?" he said while warmly shaking the barman's hand, "Not too many brutal murders I hope."

He looked around and patted his jacket. "Damn, forgot my- damn. Be right back." he said and promptly rushed out again.

[Aitrus]

Ethan arrives back a few minutes later looking a little calmer.

"Sorry about that Boz, mind handing me a cold one? After today's escapades, I've worked up a mighty thirst."

He looks to the side, "Hey, er... Kotsta?" How's your face been doing? Giving you any pain? Sorry I couldn't have done anything more about it at the time, eh?"

[Uncle Vanya]

"Heh, being fired aint close to the worst thing that can happen to you these days," Kostya was still completely engrossed at watching his empty glass of whiskey. "At least whiskey fixes all problems eh?"

He wasn't even sure why the hell he was talking to her. Hell, he just felt like talking to somebody. It was beginning to be lonely inside his head and lonely is a feeling that he was finally starting to be able to comprehend.

"Filler up and don't skimp on me this time," he pushed a couple crumbled notes over to the ready hand of the bartender. "Ethan right? You can call me Konstantin since you obviously can't pronounce Kostya. Pain's nothing I can't handle, hell, I've had worse. At least my head's still whole. Although, if you've found yourself in possession of some sweet numbness I'd certainly be willing to let go of what dough I have left."

[Exquire]

Boz suddenly remembers something and tries not to interrupt.

"Ethan - Kirk asked me to get this to you when you came in."

He slides an envelope across the table...

[Anna K]

"I don't think whiskey can fix my problem," Chelsea muttered into her drink, then looked up at Kostya's face for the first time.

"Christ!" she exclaimed, blanching. "Are you all right?"

[Uncle Vanya]

Kostya could not help but crack a smile.

"You problems don't seem quite so bad now? What happened is that dent in the bar. My face got closely acquainted with it."

He took another gulp of whiskey, basking in the burn.

"Coulda been much worse. So what's your story?"

[Anna K]

"Oh man, that's rough. Hope you got the other bugger back good."

Chelsea takes another drink.

"My story's kind of funny. Kind of. I'll look back one day and laugh, maybe. I work at - used to work at - a fancy private medical clinic in one of the really nice Level 3 neighbourhoods up the way from here. With the really welcoming fences? Yeah. Most places nowadays use 'droids for secretaries but the really fancy places still have humans, for that exclusivly human touch. Nicely ironic, that."

"I walk into work the other morning and the alarm goes nuts, we all thought it was malfunctioning or something because I'm human, you know? So they got one of the nurse 'droids, a Nightingale 300, with the portable DNA scanners to come over and check my DNA. Sometime in that day I had off work, my DNA went rogue on me and next thing I know, I'm being hauled into the nearest CCA office and they're sticking needles in my arm to take blood samples."

"I've spent the past two days sitting in a badly lit little room answering pointless questions like whether I could fly or not. Last night I finally got out with temporary Level 2 citizenship until I file the rest of the paperwork for it or I'm out on my ass as a no-leveller." She pulls out a sheaf of paper from her handbag and waves it around. "How is there this much paperwork in a society with so much technological shit? How? Anyway, I've got a two day pass back to my old Level 3 neighbourhood to get my stuff out from the apartment I share with my boyfriend - who, on top of everything else," Chelsea continues bitterly, "has been avoiding my calls since I told him. He doesn't like anomalies. Then I got called in my ex-boss today for a meeting and they were terribly sorry but they couldn't keep me on given my embarassing new condition. Just got out of that meeting now."

"So there we go. I have no job, I'm probably going to be dumped in the next day or so, I have to move back in with my parents, and unless whiskey can cure whatever the fuck happened to my DNA three days ago, none of this is going to get better any time soon."

Chelsea drinks the rest of her whiskey in one gulp, and splutters.

[Uncle Vanya]

"Well, next one's on me," he slid another couple of crumbled notes across to Boz. "Sounds like that man of yours ain't worth shit so ain't much of a loss there. So, your life has been turned up side down and completely fucked up. I know the feeling. You got yourself a couple of choices here. Drown all your troubles away tonight then do it again the next night and just keep doing that. Ain't a bad way to go bout. For some its all they got. Second choice. Become absorbed in your bitterness. Join the other anomalies who are no better than they humies that did this shit to you. They just wanna kill anyone that's not an anomaly. But what happens then? You have a new elite amongst the anomalies which has the blood of the humies on its hands and it will be no better than what we've had all along. The government is a monster, no matter what incarnation its in. Third option. Get yourself nice and drunk tonight. Tomorrow find a way to take the next step in your life. If you lost everything then build something new. Trust me, a fuck up loser like me can do it, so can you."

Why was he comforting her? Why did he feel the compulsion to help her out?

[Anna K]

Chelsea brightens.

"Hey, you're all right. I'm Chelsea, by the way. Chelsea Lambert."

She takes the drink that Boz fired across the bar at the pair of them and takes a swig. "Thanks, Boz."

She turns back to the foreigner with the stitched face.

"So what's got you so down? Must be pretty harsh if it's managed to get a gritty sage like yourself so down."

[Uncle Vanya]

"Name's Kostya."

He hesitated, taking a nice, long swig of whiskey. How the fuck was he to answer that question?

"Please, don't think I'm a good person or anything. I'm just drowning away my conscience. Been runnin' for a damn long time but there's always more shit ahead of me to knock me right down. But then, fucks like me don't deserve no peace... Chelsea there are a some things that it is worse being than an anomaly in this world. I'll give you another piece of advice. There's some clown calling himself the Phenomenon man running around. Stay the fuck away. Him and his are the worst type of hypocrite fucks, violent ones who violently believe in their own shit. Had me a run in with em, people died, I got away lightly."

[Anna K]

"Jesus," Chelsea says, eyes wide. "Is that the reason the bouncer is so uptight tonight? He wouldn't let me bring my blades up like he normally does." She catches the look on Kostya's face. "Rollerblades, I mean. Cheaper than a car and easier than public transport. But okay, yeah, I'll take your advice. Avoid Phenomenon man. Is he the loser that did your face in? And what's he got his panties in a twist about? Some other guy try to muscle in on his turf?"

[Uncle Vanya]

For a second there he thought that he completely misread her before succumbing to laughter. "Heh, guess you need some more info if you're gonna be surviving. First of all, the fucker that did this to my face is a walking vibrator, he would have women hanging off him if he wasn't such a goddam ugly motherfucker. Wears this cheesy skull tee. Basically some punk who got too full of himself. See him, get the fuck outa there. This Phenomenon bitch started up one of them many Anomaly organizations for people who can't stand on their own. This one wants to fuck up all the humans. I mean sure, it ain't fair how shit is around here but you have to be braindead to think a kill'em all answer actually works. He got himself a bunch a idiot thugs who just want to fuck some people up."