2012.09.01.Jail.Time

Jail Time
A desperate man asks Marshall for some help before his court date.
IC Date	September 1, 2012
IC Time	Night
Players	Nils, Marshall,
Location	The Crypt
Prp/Tp	PRP-Orphans
Spheres	Vampire,

Nils enters the crypt, shaking his head at something. "Alright, its done. Now to sit back and wait." He heads to the bar and takes a seat. "Screwdriver seems appropriate."

The night is been active for a while - a few hours past the sinking of the sun beyond the waters. As usual, Marshall and his assistant have found themselves in his favorite booth and are watching the crowd with casual interest. As Simon has a drink or two at the bar a man near by can be heard talking to his buddy,

"I'm going to do it..."

"Dude - you're crazy. You don't know if it's gonna work or what he wants in return." The friend retorts. With another swig on his beer the first man retorts quickly, "I don't care. Anything's better than what I got coming to me. I ain't going to jail for that bitch..." Nils looks up, arching his brow at the conversation. "Interesting." he says, looking at Marshall's booth. "Always up to something." He watches, seeing what comes of this.

'The guy' takes the last swig of his beer and pushes off the bar to weave his way through the crowd towards Marshall's booth. His friend tries to talk him out of it while he's walking away but it seems to have little if any affect. The two end up at the booth in a few moments - the crowd of angst-ridden gothlings are surging back and forth like the tide tonight which makes moving in any one direction rather difficult unless you intend to impersonate Moses. Though difficult to hear, if basically impossible, Marshall invites 'the guy' to join him as the friend hovers close by for moral support.

Nils ahhs. And thus that guy reveals himself. Very interesting. He keeps an eye on those two like a hawk, not even touching his drink. If hes quiet, he hopes he can see or hear whats going on.

The discussion goes quickly enough - there doesn't need to be much at this stage of the 'arrangement'. The guy stands from the booth and turns to wander back to the bar a bit shaken. His friend lingers a bit but quickly catches up and saddles up with him at the bar. "Dude...I told you that you would fuckin regret it..." the friend laments. "Yeah - but...I didn't think..." the guy mutters, "...and that's your damned problem bud." The friend groans audibly and calls for a beer from the bartender.

Nils Arches a brow. Regrets. Interesting. He takes a silver cigarette case from his pocket and pulls out a cigarello. He doesn't light it, perhaps preoccupied with listening. He turns on his Ipad. "Oh what now. I swear. I can't pee without the emails coming in." The two friends seem to be processing through what was asked by Marshall - the one trying to convince the other and the man who asked winding through the various permutations.

"Dude - we'll just figure another way out of this...your court date isn't for a few weeks and there's always the chance that..."

"Fuck that..."

"You can't do it..."

"I'm not going to jail..."

"But to...'kidnap someone'?" the friend asks with the last part in a hushed tone that might have been covered by the squalling music pounding through the room.