2007-02-25: Something in the Air


Ed_icon.gif Marcus_icon.gif Eliana_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif Cass_icon.gif Lachlan_icon.gif Hector_icon.gif Identity_icon.gif


Fresh from the hospital, Lachlan takes the Squaring the Circle necklace he holds to a local pub, where he happens to run into Cass and Eliana. Cass shows a lot of interest in the necklace, and she and Eliana discuss publishing. Meanwhile, Ed, Elle, Identity, and Marcus discuss a bit of work. Hector inadvertently starts a fight with a peanut, but it's quickly diffused by Eliana's powers.

Date It Happened: February 25th, 2007

Something in the Air

Oldcastle Pub and Restaurant, Downtown


That's the sound of the clock turning 5 PM at the Company. Despite the organization's more cover operations, they maintain the allure of a regular job. Recruiting drives. Company picnics. Barbecues. Employee of the month. Some people work the late shift. Some people aren't allowed to leave. Either way, the driving trend is for the suit-and-tie brigade to meander a few blocks downtown to Oldcastle.

Edward Boone has a bit of a routine. He clocks a ten or eleven hour day, punches out, staggers down to the bar, saunters in, shoves a quarter into the beat-up jukebox, puts on "Born To Run" and pulls up the same skeevy seat at the same skeevy end of the bar. A drink colored like straw, with rocks. And then he stays there until the bar closes. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

Marcus has been talked into coming down to Old Castle by a couple of his coworkers, He takes a seat on the Primatech bench not to far from Ed and orders a wine cooler.

Eliana is just entering the pub herself after a long day of writing about different combinations of the latest fashion trends and sidebar comments on new trendy things that everyone should be doing in order to be cool. Ugh. Her pink hair is ruffled with a combination of stress and wind, and she practically flops onto a stool at the bar, pulling her leather satchel around to her lap before she props her elbows on the polished wood surface. She smiles lazily at the bartender, ordering a tall Black and Tan. Eliana's not a regular here, and it's likely she'll just drink her one drink and be back on her way home. She's dressed in a black pencil skirt, tall black boots, and a white button up under a black knitted vest, and her charcoal peacoat hangs open.

It took a few days, but Elle discovered Edward Boone's routine. She has a talent when it comes to prepping to annoy people. This is one of those times. After his long day of work, she managed to sneak out of the Kirby Plaza building again and found where he goes after work. The door opens and she steps in, a smile on her face. She doesn't waste time, no, she wanders up and takes a seat next to Ed at the end of the bar. "Hey Killer. Small world isn't it?"

Stepping into the sketchy bar in lower Manhattan is definitely out of the routine for Cass. However, she's supposed to meet a friend here and she really needs a break from her self-imposed library and internet search binge. Now that she's here, though, she's a little unsure of the atmosphere and she doesn't see her friend anywhere in sight yet. Uncomfortable, she heads straight for the bar. Deciding tonight is not the best night to order something fruity, she goes for something on tap. Cold. Sighing, she seats herself so that she can see the door.

What's the first thing one should do after spending a night in the hospital? Why, drink, of course! Lachlan Deatley has retreated to Oldcastle to do just that. The left side of his face is bandaged up quite nicely, and what little bit of the skin can be seen through the gauze is severely swollen and purpled with bruising. His left hand is also wrapped in bandages, though it's obviously not in too bad a shape, considering that it's currently wrapped around a shot of Scotch. He looks like hell — but his clothes are actually not terrible, thanks to hospital staff washing them before releasing him. On the bartop in front of him is a crude necklace — the Squaring the Circle symbol, to be precise — but he left the knife at home. The dogs that usually accompany him are outside the pub. The Scotsman glances up when he spots a flash of pink hair sitting down not to far from him at the bar, and he squints. It takes a moment for him to place her. "Funny seein' ye here," he greets.

Ed knocks back a finger of his drink just as trouble — in the form of Elle — comes around the bend. Judging by the takes-a-second-or-so-to-focus look he gives her, he's a little ways into the hole already. "Well, fancy seeing you here. I didn't know Barbie came with a Degrading-Sex-In-Bar-Restroom-With-Total-Stranger Playset," Ed says, without looking at Elle. "I think I see Ken, now." He indicates a particular brand of scuzball who waltzes through the door. With his free hand, he gestures for the bartender to come near, jerking his chin at Marcus. "What the hell did that guy order? Scratch it. Get him a tequila sunrise. Pussy," he mutters, out of the corner of his mouth.

A bit later to the game than usual, Hector enters on the heels of a small crowd. Looking much as if he's spent the night sleeping on the floor of a different bar, with bruising shadowed along his right temple and brow and his right hand bandaged about the knuckles, he is approximately as shabby and homeless as ever. His grey suit is threadbare and smells like an ashtray. His slightly-less grey hair is artistically scruffy. He looks like he might've already had one or two. Just the sort of fellow every man, woman, and child wants to have hanging around their pub.

Eliana smiles at the bartender when her drink is finally placed in front of her, and she lays out the appropriate bills, including a modest tip, between it and the inside of the bar. It's only then that she turns her head and looks at Lachlan, but she doesn't recognize him at all. "Funny seeing you anywhere but laid up in a bed," she answers without missing a beat, her eyes narrowed and brows lifted in amazement. "You must be made of strong stuff," Eliana chuckles out before she turns back toward the bar, the normal position of Those Who Drink Alone, and takes a sip of her Guinness and Bass.

Marcus takes a sip of his wine cooler, and frowns as he looks down and sees it wasn't what he ordered, but some organish yellowish drink instead, he shrugs a little but doesn't make a big scene about it, as it tastes alright, hedrinks on it like he would a wine cooler, prolly a bad idea.

"Nice one… that Barbie thing never gets old." Elle doesn't look like she's moving from the stool she's taken. Leaning forward, she says, "I'll have a martini. Stirred, not shaken." Turning her gaze back to the man next to her, she sneers, "So, had a hard day of pretending to work in between your ten daily constitutions to the tenth floor bathroom, Eddie-boy? I'll bet your right arm is just all sorts of tired." She pauses there and asks, bluntly, "Why did you ask to be partnered with me?"

Her friend still not here, Cass swings around on her bar stool to face the bartender again. It's uncomfortable to stay seated like that too long. Occupying herself by looking at those going down the bar, she takes a few moments to study the varying groups of people that comprise those sitting around her. Pink hair, blonde hair, boys, girls…she frowns and listens to a couple of snippets of conversation until her eye catches something lying on the bar a few seats down. A symbol she knows very well. Before she knows it she's on her feet and moving closer to the Scotsman and the woman with the pink hair. Her drink is left forgotten on the bar.

Ed doesn't have to indicate his request to the bartender. His glass fills up as though of its own accord. Judging by Eddie's halfway-inebriated state, his reaction to her counter-spar - a raise of his eyebrow, an expression that seems to say 'ouch, you've got me', and a long pull from his drunk - doesn't seem that beyond the realm of expectability. He hesitates for a few seconds, before he finally says, "Because you don't get a free pass because you got your DNA at the Sharper Image." He shrugs. "Too many good people have gotten smeared all over a brick wall somewhere because their partner got a break on training 'cause the brass wanted them in the field." He waits a couple of beats.

"And on top of that, you're a sociopath."

"'D no' mind bein' laid up inna bed if ye were there with me," Lachlan retorts without hesitation, grinning lopsidedly. "Could prove ta ye how tough I am, even." Because a little sex when one's face is fractured isn't painful at all. Really. He drops the pursuit before he's even really begun, however, and waves a hand dismissively. "Weren' ye at tha' photo shoot couple o' weeks ago? The one with the bastard who dinna know how ta handle a dog?" It's probably fortunate he doesn't notice Hector's entrance. Very fortunate. He doesn't catch sight of Cass just yet either, as half his vision is blocked by the bandages on his face, making it difficult for him to see much beyond Eliana and her part of the bar.

"The usual." Though Hector does not call the bartender by name, he is familiar enough in his address when he leans into the bar on Edwards opposite side and gestures vaguely for a glass. Tired as he looks, he doesn't really have a stench of alcohol about him. Yet. His order placed, he straightens to squint down the bar. It takes a moment for recognition to sink in with Lachlan's face obscured by bandaging, but after a few seconds, he straightens still further.

Eliana, however, does notice Cass's approach, and the bookseller is regarded with eyes narrowed in confused scrutiny. Eliana's got all sorts of eye-narrowing subtleties. "I was," she replies carefully, ignoring the bed remark, and while this places Lachlan in her memory, he's no longer the journalist's focus. "That's a good way to get rufied," Eli says in a slightly louder voice, the words directed at the approaching Cass.

"You say such sweet things," Elle says, smile still in place. "You know, the psychologists are out to get me just because I threatened to kill them once or twice. Seriously… can you say overdramatic?" She's quiet then as she waits for her drink. It doesn't last. She asks, lowering her voice some, "Do you know anything about them testing me when I was a child? I heard this really crazy rumor."

Marcus listens to the conversation going on next to him, looking between Ed and Elle he looks like he's about to say something but bites it back.

Cass's attention isn't on Lachlan or even on Eliana. It's focused squarely on the necklace. She'd never seen anything like it before Ramon brought her one and now here's one lying right on the bar as plain as daylight. She's still staring at it when Eliana addresses her. It snaps her out of her strange focus and she blinks in confusion at Eliana. "Huhwhat?" Her head tilts a little when she realizes that she's standing pretty close to the pair. A lot closer than she planned. "Oh! What, what? Rufied? Where?"

"Lemme guess," Ed says. "They tried, and you turned them into Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru," he adds, getting a faux thousand-yard stare. "And you were only eight years old, poor girl." He shrugs his shoulders. "Odds on, it's not my problem. I could care less. It's probably the short end of the stick you got. I'm not interested in letting you take it out on every Tom, Dick, and Harry rookie that comes through the pipes."

A nod from Lachlan, who has confirmed his suspicions. "Though' so. S'no' hard ta recognize the hair." He lifts his left hand to indicate his own head in a circular, waving motion, eyes locked on Eliana's hair. The remark about being rufied causes him to frown, and he glances first at his drink (and the necklace beside it) and then over his shoulder at the approaching Cass. Blinking in surprise, he half-turns on his stool to make facing the other woman a little easier on himself. His right hand goes out to rest protectively over the necklace as his eyes roam down the bar. "Yeah, rufied," he grunts. "Ye left yer drink back there. Never know when someone's gonna come 'round an' spike it."

"That's just it. I mean, take /what/ out on other people? Was my father a part of it?" Elle's lost what cool she had. There's a shrill edge to her voice now. "Will you just tell me, dammit? I need to know."

Eliana lets her eyes wander down the bar to the other group, catching snippets of the conversation. "Especially with this crowd," she murmurs. They don't seem a very happy-go-lucky lot, even by the Big Apple's standards. She slowly turns again to Cass and takes a drink before she speaks again. "You alright?" Maybe Cass has been marked by some bar-wasp. The bookseller /is/ acting oddly.

The murder of psychologists and that sort of general conversational thing is enough to earn an odd glance from Hector while whiskey is poured over ice and set before him. Perhaps fortunately, he opts not to interrupt, and his muttered order for a 'side of rufies' merely earns a hard look from the 'tender when he collects his drink and pushes back and away to survey his seating possibilities. On one side, potentially crazy people. On the other, people who may want to kill him. He sips his whiskey. Decisions.

"What do you want me to tell you? Congratulations, Miss Bishop, you've caught me just drunk enough to reveal all of our secrets. Yes, you're the subject of a terrible conspiracy," Ed says. "Then you can roast me and go off to roast some others. You want the truth? Hell if I know. If I had that kind of clearance I probably wouldn't be in a dive like this. You wanna know what I think? You probably got put through the same ringer as all the other lightshows that come through," he says. "You know when they put us through the training program we've got to run an obstacle course while getting tasered? Probably because of you and people with the same trump card as you. So, thanks. That's an experience I'll cherish forever."

Cass quickly looks own at her empty hands. Right. They did seem to be missing some weight. "Oh! Right!" She looks at Lachlan and Eliana, frowning a little when she sees the protective gesture Lachlan makes over the necklace. "Don't go anywhere." Not that she really expects them to, but she wants to be extra-special sure. As fast as she can, she goes to pick up her drink. She sniffs it to see if she can smell any date-rape drugs but smells nothing out of the ordinary. Not that she'd be able to tell, really. All but full beer now in her hands she returns to the two people - one all but a stranger and the other one totally so. "What were you saying? Oh right, me being okay. I am! Um, how are you two?" It's lame, but she doesn't really have any other way to start out a conversation she's accidentally started.

"You are an awesome human being, Eddie Boone." Elle looks disgusted and more than a little heartsick. "The hell with you and your bullshit." She's off her stool then, just as her martini arrives. Not looking back, she heads for the door.

Marcus watches her go, not interfering he looks over at Eddie, kinda confused.

The bookseller /is/ a bit strange, but Lachlan's met his fair share of strange people to not really care so much. Once it becomes apparent that Cass isn't there to swipe the necklace, the Scotsman removes his hand from it and lifts his glass to drain his drink. After downing it, he sets the empty shot on the bar with a sigh. "'M righ' bloody wonderful!" he responds chipperly, though it's hard to tell whether or not he's being sarcastic. Who wouldn't be, with a face like that? He glances between Eliana and Cass with a lifted eyebrow. "'M guessin' ye girls know each other, then?"

"Just leave the goddamn bottle," Ed says, to the bartender, and pours himself a tall drink — and polishes it off. He looks doorwards as Elle takes off, sneering. No way is he falling for that trick, he might think, to himself. He pours himself another drink, and then rotates in his stool to Marcus. "What the hell are you looking at?"

Marcus says, "Wha…" He swallows, "What was that all about?"

Rather than risk sitting next to one of them, Hector's final solution seems to be to sit next to both of them. Between Ed and Lachlan, or whoever happens to be next to Lachlan, Hector hooks a stool in for himself with his ankle, and drops down into place, already well on his way to clearing through his first glass. "Did you see that fellow down the bar?" he asks of Ed and Marcus, not giving any indication of who, exactly, he's talking about. To start. "Looks like he ran face first into a bus."

While Cass is on her drink-errand, it dawns on Eliana that striking up a business sort of realtionship with the shop owner might not be a bad idea in the long run. "Not too bad," she half-lies with a small smile, "I just started a new manuscript. How's your shop?" The world hasn't ended yet, and assuming it /won't/ lends to a better ending for said manuscript. She glances back to Lach, and with a soft, amused chuckle, she nods. Yeah.

"Do I look like a shrink to you, pal? You ask me, somebody's a few cards short of a full deck," Ed scoffs, having a little bit more to drink. This sort of thing can only be destructive to his health. And the well-being of the people around him. "Now, why don't you go back to your white wine spritzer and leave me alone." He does, however, look Lachlan's way. He can hear the faint tones of an accent. "Looks like somebody got whipped like Notre Dame," he says, commenting on the poor performance of the notorious football club.

Cass grins at Lachlan. She's not sure if he's being serious at all or not, but she's going to take him at face value. "Now that's a good answer," she replies happily enough. She's already shown herself to just drop in on strangers conversations, there's not much else she can do to ruin her reputation with them. "Um, well, sort of. She's been in my store before. Though, I don't know her - your - name at all." Toning down her giddiness, she tries to head back into normal conversation. She can bring up the necklace once they've done the small talk. "A manuscript? I didn't know you were a write. What kind of book are you writing?" She sounds genuinely interested. And she is, not just because she's trying to lull them into friendship. That's just an added bonus.

Yeah, a good answer — and a truthful one! With a few more drinks under his belt, Lachlan will be right as rain, and so he waves the bartender down to order another. He listens idly to the conversation between Cass and Eliana, but makes no effort to interrupt just yet. He still remains oblivious to Hector, and also to Ed's comment down the way. Having constantly split focus has its downsides.

"I think you should go and tell him so," says Hector. As a master of tact and most related fields, he is well qualified to be giving this sort of advice, and even more qualified to request another round for himself, which he does with a 'clank' of his empty glass to the bar surface.

Eliana takes another sip of her drink, her smile growing as she lowers the glass from her mouth again, resting one elbow on the bar so that she's turned to look at Cass and Lachlan. She extends her free hand to Cass. "Eliana Pasternack," she offers as an introduction. " And it's science fiction, actually. A relatively new genre for me, but it's better than the droll that I write to pay the bills. Maybe this one won't end up as some editor's paperweight."

Marcus looks over to where Ed and Hector are discussing he frowns as he sees Eliana, but then turns back to Ed, "You know you didn't have to be so hard on her"

Cass sticks out her hand to shake Eliana's. "Cass Aldric. Pleasure." Now that she's a little more comfortable, she moves in so that she's less of an outsider in their little triangle. "That sounds really interesting. Have you got a regular publisher yet?" She takes a pause and looks over at Lachlan. Though he's staying quiet, she's got a vested interest in keeping him involved and relaxed. She wants to pump him for information a few more drinks in. "I didn't catch your name, either."

"Somebody's got to," Ed says. "Before daddy's little girl winds up getting somebody roasted. Like, say, /me/," he adds, making it apparent that his self-preservation is of paramount significance. "Besides, something about that girl just pisses me the hell off." He keeps staring at Lachlan, meanwhile, from across the floor. Maybe he *will* get some stress out with some misdemeanor assault and battery.

"Lachlan Deatley." He doesn't extend a hand to shake Cass', because he missed that part of etiquette training in his childhood. "Ye can call me Lach, if ye like. 'S wha' everyone else does." And then he falls silent again. Books, writing, words — these are all things that disinterest him greatly. God forbid he actually /read/.

"Do you wish you were as pretty as she is?" Putting that mastery of tact to good use, Hector watches blandly as his glass is refilled and his aging ice melted, possibly not expecting that he will actually be heard.

Marcus shakes his head, "Maybe she just needs someone to give her a chance, if every one treats her like you do, I can understand why she gets in a bad mood.

Eliana nods at Lach's name, filing it away. But she has a fish on the line that needs attention. She shakes her head in response to Cass, stealing another sip of her beer. "Nope," she answers once she comes up for air. "But it's not /finished/ yet either." And someone who's only been published with minimal credit as a blurb writer in a magazine and college literary magazines what seems like ages ago isn't a likely candidate for a stipend.

"Well, aren't you just a bastion of hope, there, Gandhi," Ed says, to Marcus. He doesn't sound particularly thrilled. "I guess you haven't read the little lady's file, have you?"

The door opens, and in comes a brunette in high heeled boots. Her progress through the bar is audible, assuming anyone picks out the sound of her footfalls between the constant murmur of voices, laugher, and clinking drunks as people suck down their spirits. Identity glances around briefly, then beelines to fetch liquid refreshment. Always get the booze first.

Marcus says, "Not exactly, no but I usually have a good read on people, I like to think" He grins a little and offers a hand, "Marcus Brooks, medical intern and forensic specalist"

Cass does the polite thing and holds her own hand out for him to shake. Even if he didn't, that doesn't mean that she should relax on her own manners. "Lach it is, then. Nice to meet you." She smiles warmly at the man before turning back to Eliana to continue their book conversation. "True. Well, I know a lot of reps from different publishing companies from stocking my store. When it comes time to find one, come on in and I'll see if one of them may be interested. Since you're saying it's sci-fi it may be right up their alley." Nonchalantly, she takes a sip of her mostly untouched beer, stealing a glance over to where the symbol necklace still lays on the bar. It's only a quick look before she turns her attention back to her company. This is new to her and she's trying to think of the best time to bring it up.

Down the hatch goes Lachlan's next shot, and he clunks his glass onto the bar again with a rumbling sigh. Ahhhh. Getting better and better! It's probably a good thing he's hoarding his vicodin for decidedly non-medicinal purposes, otherwise he'd be dead by now. As an afterthought — and a little staring — he takes Cass' hand and gives it a shake. A rather less-than-kosher shake. One that involves the stroking of a thumb over skin and a subtle wink. "'S nice ta meet ye too, Cass." Sounds like 'lass'. Ha! And that's really all he says on the matter. He doesn't catch Cass' look toward the necklace because he's studying it himself, frowning in thought.

Marcus is sititng next to Ed, off to one side, Hector between them and Lach and his two girls, both Ed and Marcus have drinks in front of them.

At his ongoing failure to get a rise, or so much as an annoyed look out of Edward, Hector eyes the man sidelong, and reaches to tug a nearby bowl of mixed nuts over to himself. His uninjured hand briefly occupied with a swallow of whiskey, he sets the glass down, collects a fair-sized peanut, and flicks it down the length of the bar at Lachlan and company.

"/That's/ why you're such a nob," Ed concludes, but shakes Marcus's hand all the same. "You're one of those interns. We'll see how long that lasts. Anyways, kid. That girl? That you've got a crush on? She's a sociopath. Paranoid delusions. When she was eight she knocked out the power grid in half of Ohio. The other day? She fried Orion Granger to a crisp because she didn't look before she threw." Ed looks back at Hector, and starts to sneer, just a little bit. "What are you, ten?"

Identity orders, "Whiskey rocks." She waits for a few moments for it to be delivered, and tosses some cash on the bar. She joins up with the crew about the time Ed sounds off about Elle. "Jesus, are you still bitching about Granger?"

Eliana lifts her eyebrows and tugs her lips up into a wider smile. "That's very kind of you, Miss Aldrich. Thank you." Unlike Lach, Eliana retains her professionalism, be she at a desk or on a barstool. "I'll be sure to swing by as soon as I put the last period on the last page." She catches the glance to the necklace, and her own eyes go to the piece of jewelry that he bookseller had initially come over to investigate. "Is that for someone special, Lach?" she asks with the strange smile of an interviewer. That smile is interrupted when she snaps her head to the peanut skittering across the bar. Peanut.

Ed quickly fires back, "Hey, it's not my fault. The intern asked."

Marcus says, "Hey I'm just saying give her a little slack, you can catch more flies with honey then you can with vinegar. If she's that bad of a shot take her gun away.""

Cass is decidedly slower in her drinking than Lachlan is. Getting him in a talking drunk mood is a lot easier than she expected. She doesn't even have to do anything but stand there. For all that she doesn't like invasions of personal space, she keeps her smile when the handshake goes on for a bit longer than expected. However, this is her moment! Someone else has brought up the necklace! She can talk about the necklace without bringing up more suspicion! "It's a really interesting design. Where did you find it? I might want one for myself." Then her attention is grabbed by the peanut. Dammit, there went her perfect moment.

"Fifteen. Werner's Syndrome. It's very sad, really." Conversational despite the subject of conversation, Hector lifts his brows back over at Ed and wraps long fingers loosely about the rim of his glass. Talk of frying and/or shooting people is carefully ignored. He turns his head to focus upon the progress of his peanut.

Identity's dark eyes turn from Ed to Marcus. "Intern." She greets him by his job description. The tone is hard to read. Could be she's thinking up all manner of unpleasantness for Marcus. But probably she just talks that way. She acknowledges the existence of no peanut.

Ed pointedly ignores Hector, and instead looks at Marcus for a good, long moment. Several of them pass, in fact, before he says, flatly, "You're… clinically retarded, aren't you?"

Hmmwhat? The mention of his name causes Lachlan to lift his head and turn a blank stare on Eliana. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with the rest of her sentence, and then he looks to the necklace again. Then Cass weighs in on it, and he glances at her with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. /This/ thing? It's /ugly/. Even Lachlan in all his tastelessness can see that. "Nah, s'no' fer — " he's interrupted by the peanut as it comes sliding down toward his elbow. It's not unusual for peanuts to stray from their owners' hands in a crowded bar, so he flicks it aside without really looking up. Hector is, luckily, unnoticed. " — no' fer anyone. 'S a bit fucked up, yanno. Got it from some woman talkin' onna phone. Said she dinna know why she had it. Came in a birthday pressie with a knife." He glances at both women again. "Wouldna happen ta know anythin' 'bout it, would ye?"

Marcus blinks at Ed looking confused for a couple heartbeats, "No…why?"

Eliana reaches across the bar, slightly invading Lachlan's space, in order to bring the peanut toward her. She glances down the bar again toward Hector, Marcus, and Ed, but it's the latter that holds her attention. He's the one that's been so belligerent over there, at least from what she can tell given the snippets of conversation she's been able to pick up. Squinting now, Eliana takes aim and flicks the peanut back toward the other group, arcing it over the bar with her thin fingers. She whistles softly, adding the sound effect. Peanut-bomb, away!

Cass frowns when she hears what Lachlan has to say about the necklace. She doesn't care so much that he isn't really taking her lie at face value. Maybe she just has really bad fashion sense, whatever. "A /knife/?" Her own confusion is impossible to hide when that is brought up. Ramon never said anything about a knife. Maybe this really isn't related. "I really don't know anything about that. But, some random woman giving you her birthday present definitely sounds weird. You didn't know her at all? And how'd she give it to you if she was on the phone?"

By the time the bartender cycles back to Hector, it's to find him pushing up to his feet. An offer for a final round is waved off, though the older man does open his mouth to speak, only to pause when the peanut sails past. His quiet order to, "Put the Scotsman on my tab," is thus offered on a delay. The rest of his glass drained in a swallow, he sets it down and turns for the door.

"Sorry. Nevermind. Just a thought I had," Ed says, looking right back at Marcus. "They stick you with some young firecracker yet, Id?" he asks, keeping Marcus in the conversation and turning his attention to Identity for at least the moment.

Ed stops, and turns his sights on Lachey as he immediately stands up. "Hey, man, what the /hell/?!" he barks, taking a few sudden steps his way. It appears he thinks he's been hit with a nut. Alpha male, meet a raging beta male in a cheap suit

Identity shakes her head. "No, I think they want the new ones to survive their first week." She doesn't move as Ed stands up, though that puts him closer to her. She sips her drink, and casts a dark eyed glance between him and his … perceived peanut attacker.

/Hello/, there, Miss Pasternack. Lachlan does not seem to mind in the slightest when his personal space is so invaded, and he takes the opportunity to ogle a few parts of Eliana's anatomy that were previously not visible. However, Cass soon has his attention again. "There's the bloody rub," he continues on, quite happy to relay the strange events surrounding the necklace and knife. "She said it wasna 'er birthday. An' she dinna know who she was talkin' ta on the phone. She pulled the pressie out from under the bridge, an' I grabbed 'er ta keep 'er from fallin' inta traffic. She dropped 'er phone an' acted like she dinna know where she was. Was bloody — " He's cut off when there's a bellow from the other end of the bar and, annoyed at being shouted at as well as interrupted, he lifts his head to glower in a very displeased fashion at Ed. "Oi, wha's got yer bloody panties in a twist? Sit yer fuckin' arse down an' keep yer trap shut, there's no' a bloody soul's botherin' ye over here." /Some people/.

Eliana, on the other hand, tenses when the shouting match between Lachlan and Ed begins. She bites her lip and shuts her eyes tight, forcing her heart to stay steady. Widened blood vessels mean more gas at lower rates, and Eli as much as Eli would like to see any potential fight diffused, she'd rather not do anything publicly now that she knows what threats lurk in the city. Still, it's never an easy battle, and a small amount of gas seeps from her, but it hovers only a few inches from her skin, lingering on the outside of her coat where it covers her before it dissipates into the pub's air.

Ed doesn't notice anything amiss — except for the fact that he wants to break a bottle over some Eurotrash guy's head. "Somebody threw a damn peanut at me, and I wanna know who! I don't drag my ass down here every day 'cause I love the service. I don't come down here looking for trouble, but if you show Little Miss Williamsburg and Little Miss Park Slope here that you're the big lion, tossing peanuts isn't gonna do it—" He's pretty much fuming, at this point, and he emphasizes his point (childishly) by slamming his fist on the bartop.

Identity casts an amused askance look at Ed, and continues to stand where she is. She neither supports nor deserts him, preferring, instead, to watch. And drink. Watch, drink. At least for the moment. "Intern. Fetch me a refill." Her eyes then go to 'eurotrash', and she regards him for a moment, then turns her eyes back to Ed. There could be mental math. Either way, the equation is real short.

Marcus shrugs and keeping one eye on Ed, goes and collects a refill for Id, paying for it himself.

Cass listens intently now that she's got Lachlan talking. She ignores the ogling of Eliana, though she certainly doesn't approve of it. A frown graces her face, but it fades into a thoughtful expression once Lachlan starts his story. Finally, some sort of a version of answers. That is, until Ed starts yelling at Lachlan for something. Peanuts? What /is/ he talking about. Dammit! Everything was going so well. "Was bloody what?" she desperately attempts to get the Scot back on track, but she's lost him. Annoyed, she glares at Ed, then tries a calmer tact. "Look, man, nobody's throwing any peanuts, so why don't you just calm down. And I don't live in Williamsburg or Park Slope, for your information."

"Ye dunna come here lookin' fer trouble? Ye gotta righ' funny way o' showin' it!" Lachlan shouts back. "Shut yer bloody piehole. Ye've been drinkin' too much if yer startin' ta see things tha' 're no' happenin'." Grumblegrumble growl. The Scotsman's face may be bandaged up, his hand may be wrapped, and he may be fresh from the hospital, but he's apparently not lost his spark. For now, the conversation about the Middle-Eastern woman is dropped in favor of the shouting match. Eliana may be close, but she's not close enough for Lachlan to get a whiff of the gas leaking from her pores.

Marcus steps up to Ed after handing Id her drink "Look we dunna wan no tribble, mayhap we shoul jus' sit back down an' hae a wee little drink" He tries to pull Edd back a little.

Neither does Eliana live in either of those two places, but she keeps mum about that. "Lachlan," she hisses, the gas gaining a ground until it hovers at a foot radius from any exposed skin, and a good eight inches where her coat blankets it. "Just ignore him. /Please./" She hardly knows this guy, but he doesn't need anymore injuries anymore than Eli needs more weight on her conscience.

Identity takes her drink, and eyes Marcus as he puts himself between the Scot and the Sot… er Ed.

Ed stands there for a second or two, looking at Lachlan, still staring Lachlan down. "No, you know what — you freakin' tourists think you can show up and toss your crap at people like zoo animals. Stupid peanut hit me right in the face. If it wasn't you, pal, who was it? Huh?" Ed takes another step forward, getting up into Lachlan's face. He is a much, much, smaller man.

Right beside Eliana, Cass tries to grab a hold of Lachlan and pull him back from the advancing Ed. She wants to hear more about what happened, she doesn't want him pulverized by some maniac trying to pick a fight. "Yeah. Come on. I'll get you another drink." She took a couple deep breaths while right next to Eliana and suddenly she starts to feel the effects of her drug circulating around the pink haired woman. As wound up as she is about this situation, she starts feeling relaxed. And friendly. And very close to Lachlan. Her grip tightens on him, but it's less like a restraint and more like an invitation.

Identity watches this thing between Ed and Lach briefly, then her attention wanders across the bar. She sips her new drink, courtesy of Marcus. "If he knocks you unconscious, I will be liberating your wallet." She could be talking to the Scot, but chances are better she's referring to Ed. She slides her cell phone out of her pocket, and holds it up to check the time.

When Ed starts getting up in his face, Lachlan also rises from his stool, and he does indeed seem more impressive in build than Ed. He lifts a lip in a cold, nasty sneer, glaring into the other man's face. "Dunno wha' the bloody hell yer goin' on about," he growls, "but I dinna throw a peanut, an' I dunna know anyone who did. An' fer yer infermation, I'm no' a fuckin' tourist. 'Ve lived here fer a long bloody time, an' if ye've gotta prollum with tha', we'll just step outside an' fix it." But then there's someone holding onto his arm — and she's doing it in That Way, and that sends all /sorts/ of funny signals to Lachlan's brain. Hello, there, Miss Aldric! Now he's torn between brawling and something entirely different. Identity is given a brief, unfriendly glance at her input, even if it might not be directed at him.

When his gaze goes up to Identity, it also shifts to Marcus, whose accent he happened to hear through the rest of the hubbub. He looks again to Ed. "Yer friend's a bit o' a tourist too, eh?" he adds scathingly.

Marcus keeps one hands on Ed, "Look the bloody git isn't worth the trouble"

As the fight escalates, so does Eliana's heart rate. She's not the only one who is getting nervous, however. The bartender eyes the two men as he polishes a pint glass, his face scarred with a deeply lined glower, waiting for that moment when he'll chase the two men out the door like the dogs he perceives them as. But Ed is a regular, so he'll bide his time. Eliana, on the other hand, is quickly losing her metaphorical grip on her heart rate, and it starts to beat out of her control, the gas pouring from her as if a dam had broken. It only extends out about six feet in total, taking another six to fade off. She grips her drink tightly and drains the rest of it in a few seconds, looking to make her exit soon. Very soon.

Identity flashes a grin to Lachlan, "Keep your attention centered on those that care for it, Sally." She finishes her second whiskey, and moves behind Ed to thunk both empty glasses on the bar. "Intern, your job is to keep 'Duardo from shuffling off."

Ed takes a deep breath, flaring his nostrils and getting ready, no doubt, to take a swing at Lachlan. And then he wobbles a bit. He was /already/ suffering from an altered state of perception. He giggles a little. "Tch—you know what, Lucky, don't sweat it," he says, and looks down at his hand for a second. "Hell. Did somebody slip me something…?"

Marcus eyes go a little out of focus, as he tries to hold onto Ed but his muscles start to go a little limp, "Ed we shoul' git Chin cor light san wu dart"

Cass's grip doesn't slacken on Lachlan as his exchange continues with Ed and then Identity. The ramp up of Eliana's heartbeat only deepens its effects on Cass and she puts her half-filled drink down to put her other hand on Lachlan's arm. Turns out it wasn't a rufie she had to worry about in this bar. When Ed giggles and backs down, the store keep beams at the man she was angry at just moments before. "See, everything's good. You should have a drink with us!"

Having not been hit with the drug near as bad as Cass, it takes a few whiffs before Lachlan's feeling anything. Even then, he's done enough in his time to be able to handle the current dosage rather well. That doesn't make him immune to it, however, and suddenly Cass' arms around one of his own start feeling /really/ good. Whatever anger and disgust he was feeling before is starting to ebb away, and he even smirks at Ed. "Dunno," he snickers. "Mebbe tha' peanut hit ye a bit hard inna head." Snrrrrk. He leans back into Cass a bit, and somewhere in the haze of his mind, he recognizes these symptoms — and remembers that he witnessed something to this effect earlier, when he /last/ saw Eliana.

Duties delegated to Marcus, Identity glances over and shakes her head. "I'm going to go find a proper brawl." With that, she turns on her heel and stalks toward the door, heavy booted footfalls receding. Near misses are so disappointing!

Edward sniffs a little at the air, and then leans against the bar. Something's not right, here. He starts behaving… a little erratically, taking steps down the bar. His lips move, even, as he counts his paces. One, two, three, four, five, six.

Marcus walks with Edward as he walks away still trying to keep his coworker from doing anything rash he mumbles to himself in half a dozen different languages.

Wide-eyed and hiding behind Lach to remain out of the view of the others, Eliana waits until Identity is gone before she takes a deep breath and heads for the door as nonchalantly as possible. She makes it until her hand is on the knob, then she scampers through the pub's entrance before she power-walks down the street, her hand already in the air to hail a cab.

Cass doesn't have the same sort of resistance to the Eliana's drug that Lachlan does. She's already pretty far gone into it and it feels pretty nice, actually. The last time she felt like this was the carjacking incident. But, she pushes that out of her mind. "Come on, forget it," she murmurs to Lachlan and decides that this is a good time to make her own exit. But, she's not planning on making it alone. Tugging on Lachlan's arm, she tilts her head toward the door. "It's getting a little stuffy in here, isn't it?"

When Eliana makes her exit, Lachlan turns his head to watch her, grinning — and not just because she's, well, good-looking and has her back to him. Oh-ho-ho. He thinks he knows a dirty little secret! But he doesn't mention anything about it. Instead, he looks to Cass again, the grin remaining. "Yeah, yer righ'." Real stuffy. He reaches over onto the bar to retrieve the necklace and stuff it into his jacket pocket. As he reaches for his wallet to pay for the drinks, the bartender waves a hand and informs him that it's been put on a tab. This oddity only causes the Scot to hesitate a moment before he shrugs and turns to accompany Cass outside. Not bad for his first night out of the hospital!

Ed's cognizance comes back to him like a shot after he gets a few breaths of fresh air. "Son of a—" He whirls around. Identity? Gone. The intern? No dice. And he can barely stand up. Somebody in this bar. But who? "Hey. Intern!" He mutters, to himself. "I think we just had a pheremone-blaster in here, somewhere. Hell! They could still be here. Keep an eye out. I think I'm going to pass out now," which he does, sitting down at the bar and putting his head down. He's been pretty badly drugged, on top of his binge drinks.

Marcus frowns as Ed goes black, well he has a job, make sure Ed gets home alive, he pays the tab and has the bartender call a cab.

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