[Ed note: Painful scene. May want to skip it, or delete it outright... Oh, Compton gets attacked again.]

Announcement: Silvius shouts, The peace of the afternoon is shattered suddenly as an explosion rips through the downtown area. The source of the explosion seems to be in the area of Parliament and College E. The blast can be felt for blocks in each direction, and heard for miles. Power flickers and goes out in the neighboring buildings, and car alarms ring through the afternoon air.

Downtown Parliament and College E

You find yourself in the heart of Cabbagetown. This is one of the oldest remaining residential areas of Toronto. It has been virtually untouched by time. Buildings, their architecture dating them back to the turn of the century, rise all along the narrow one-way streets which criss-cross through this area. However, a new surge of 'yuppies' moving into the area has brought forth a flow of change to the old homes. Entire homes are renovated to a more, modern decor. The streets are now being filled with parked BMWs and Mercedes. Upscale boutiques and cafes are springing up on every corner. The more traditional residents have started to complain, creating a storm of controversy over the historic nature of Cabbagetown. In this case, however, tradition seems to be taking a back seat to wealth and power. Indeed it has, from the sight of the newly cleaned sidewalks and the freshly paved roads as well as the beautiful colouring of the fresh flowers and newly added trees.

Contents:
Silvius

Compton shambles up the street, bundeled in his heavy parka and winter boots. He looks spooked, beady eyes flashing about.

Erick arrives from the north.
Erick has arrived.
Isobel arrives from the south.
Isobel has arrived.

Isobel steps from a taxi and begins to run down the street, not an easy thing in heels.... her eyes wide with concern as she sees the damage....

A jittery looking Compton is skirting around what parked cars there are along the street, and peering over top of his erstwhile cover.

Isaac arrives from the south.
Isaac has arrived.

Isaac runs up shortly after Isobel as he gets lost in the city easily. He clamors to a stop and a huff as he sees Isobel.

Isobel hurries to take a look around and then moves towards the crowd that has gathered

Erick moves down the street, not running, not panicked. Like a king he seems to move, but then here he pretty much is. However anger is on his face as he surveys the area and prepares for the fall out.
Car alarms and shocked screams and yells fill the air, but overshadowing all this commotion is the roar of flames, green flames actually, which currently completely engulf the old McDulan family grocery. The glass of nearby buildings and car windows litter the streets.

Silvius slips into his Robes of Office and into Judge Mode!

Isobel looks over as she spots Isaac and just nods. calling to him "I caught a cab" then she begins to move through the crowd.. wanting to hear what the coppers had to say

Compton stands across the street. His face flush with excitement. Doing a fine job representing the do-nothing-voyeur-public in times of crisis.

Erick moves down the street, scanning for only a moment. He taps a few people as he moves by them, the most Irish from the look of it. Directing people to take the wounded to the other side of the street. That thin line of anger still there. The cops are going to show up for this one. He knows it and it pleases him not at all. A few others directed to find the owners of those cars and get the alarms shut off before he moves to where he directed the injured to be taken, god knows when the paramedics will arrive and he is assuming people need help now.

Isaac scans around and makes his way over to Isobel and asks, "All right, since you got here before me, what do you think happened?"

Isobel shakes her head and points towards the back of one of the estates where her little apartment is... "my god I was there only 30 minuets ago... " she shivers and then adds quickly "I need to help.. " with that she goes over to one of the ladies and helps her up from the ground, the poor dear is pretty banged up but she can walk.. carefully she leads the lady to a safe looking stoop, assuring her she needs to have some one look at those cuts...

The interesting thing is, no cops or firemen seem to be anywhere around here. But what's more is the strange green color that seems to permeate the flames. As erick directs the irish folk, they nod, some growing calmer as the seems to recognize the man a bit. They move off to help those they can.

Compton fishes one of those cheap disposeable cameras form his parka's pocket along with a small flask. FIrst he takes a belt of the hooch, to keep the home fires burning and then starts taking random snap shots of the chaos and carnage around him. zzip *CLICK* zzzip *CLICK*

Spotting Isobel Erick moves to the lady she has helped. "Take her two doors up lass. We need all of them together. See if ya can find anyone else with first aid trainin as well." He then moves back there.
Admiistering the little first aid he can. Actually tossing one man the keys to his house and telling him where the first aid kit is. He finally seems to notice the green flame and mutters something about old copper wiring.

Isobel nods her head and hurries to obey. guiding the lady to a safe place and shouting in relief as she spots one of the locals who works at the hospitial, he is hurrying towards Erick

Isaac shoves through the crowd himself and looks upon the scene. Since there are no police around, he takes a quick scan for damages... and then begins talking to people that seem to have had property damaged, especially cars....

Jim arrives from the south.
Jim has arrived.

Jim walks through the intersection of Parliament and College, to see several people he recognizes. He tosses a raised eyebrow to Isobel as he passes.

Isobel works to get small children reunited with their parents. She is moving through out the milling mass, her heels a real pain in the butt

Jim walks north along Parliament to Wellesley.
Jim has left.

Everyone on the streets has relatively minor injuries, glass, cuts, that sort of thing. the blast seems to have been engineered to engulf the building with little collateral damage.

Erick does not even look at the man. The first aid kit is his major concern. He probably knows him from years ago when his sister ran the place, if he's that old. He works on the wounds until the kit arrives and he can do it properly. One of the men leading people over is directed. "Go ta tha pub and get Seamus to get a cop here. An Irish one if possible, if there are still any onna force. But this shite we canna handle on our own. Not until later." The look in his face says someone is going to bleed for this, but that is later, this is now.

Jim arrives from the north.
Jim has arrived.

Isaac looks at Erick as he is done making his rounds. "What the hell are you talking about? You're making this sound like terrorist attack."

Isobel looks up and actually spots Jim, she waves to him "Jim Jim! Help me please, I can na find this little ones Mother.." she winces as she holds the crying child.. trying to keep up with the dirty faced red haired tyke.....

Jim yells articulately. "WHAT THE FUCK!?"

Swan arrives from the west.
Swan has arrived.

Jim goes about trying to pull the worst injured out of the rubble.

Erick looks up at the disheveled man who adresses him and just smiles grimly. "You a reporter or a cop lad? If ya are piss off I got me hands full here if ya didna notice. If ya aren't then it ain't terorists I'm worried aboot." He ducks at the second explosion, almost seeming to before it happens. "God damn it!" That dark look again on his face.

Isaac notes the pre-emptive reaction and says, "You know something about this, tell me what the hell is going on now, or I'll just have the cops take you in for questioning also."

Isobel is trying to help up one of the older men who usually sits outside and plays checkers.. she still has the crying dirty faced child on her hip,.. bouncing him gently as she steadies Old Mat... "its ok darln' we will find your mudder not to fret.... " as she speaks Old Mat looks up and blinks "why lass my mudder has been dead these last 22 years ... you sure you are not the one who took a brick to the head

Siomen arrives from the west.
Siomen has arrived.

The building explodes again, seems possibly a gas main or the like finally gave to the intense heat. sirens are heard in the distance, growing closer as the entire neighborhood, the irish portion at least, seems to come to life to help. Neighbors futilely attempt to cool the fire with garden hoses and fire extinguishers, others form a bucket brigade. Yet more seem to come from the clinic, taking in the wounded there.

Isobel blinks in confussion and then has to laugh, but it is short lived as the second explossion hits... "i.. I was talking to the child Mat..." she sighs and then shakes her head. "nar mind.. is going to be ok. come on hurry .. hurry we do nah need to take more damamge

Compton keeps working his tourist trinket camera, snapping shots of the human conflict that is unravelling itself out on the street. He stands safely behind the scene next to some battered parked cars.

Swan moves to the periphery of the gathered group, speaking into a cellphone, as he scans the area for imminent signs of danger.

Jim grabs what people he can, and begins to pull them towards the clinic, he hollers at the top of his lungs. "Is there a fuckin' doctor out here? Come on you fuckers!" He glances over to Compton and yells at the man. "You! Yeah you, motherfucker! Drop the goddamn camera and give these people a hand you sadistic fuck!"

Hept-Seshet arrives from the west.
Hept-Seshet has arrived.

Erick stands as the people atre taken to the clinic. They're better off there. He looks at Isaac. What I know is that two explosions just hit me fuckin' neighborhood and you're gettin in me face. Now get the hell outta me face, and if'n yer smart out of me neighborhood before I stick something hard and big and possibly flamable up yer arse. This is not the time to be accusin me of shite.

Siomen wanders down the street, drawn by the sirens and explosions, just another gawking fool
Swan finishes his conversation and pockets his phone.

Escalus has arrived.

Isaac looks at the truck pulling up and waves the person emerging over to him. He then turns back to erick and says, "Are you threatening me now? So now they have to question you /and/ hold you on account of verbal assualt?"

Isobel blinks as she hears Erick being yelled at by Isaac but she does not interfere, instead she sets the small child down and begins to move her way back towards the cars where the man with the camera is snapping away like some voyeur tourist...

Swan walks west along College to Jarvis.
Swan has left.

Erick smiles at the man. "I ain't threatenin ya welp. I'm givin ya friendly advice. Ya ain't a cop or ya'd be helpin out. Yer steppin on toes here, so either get ta helpin, or get tha fook out. Ain't noone here want ta deal with yer attitude, you're causin people ta suffer. An before ya threaten me ya might want ta keep in mind that ya accused me of some pretty nasty shit happenin ta a business I have interest in." He's losing his temper and his patience. But the man in front of him doesn't hold it for long, his head swivels and he begins to move in the same direction as Isobel, growling under his breath about vultures as the rude man is forgotten in favor of a much more satisfying target.

Giving the hecklers no mind, Compton continues to document the crisis. Sure it's thankless work. Nobody cares for the paparazzi during the mess, but afterwards when Mom's read the Time magazine in line at the supermarket, and comment how tragic the images are or when the CEO's on the shitter reading that months National Geographic he realizes how brave his country men are to have done what they did in times of need, all because of the pictures. North America the contradiction. No one wants to love the ones who get the picture, they just want to see the images. The photographer and the photograph have become alienated from each other. The images must be pure. They must come from no where in to the media. Compton is just one of the thankless scum who feed Canada its hypocritical sense of moralness.

Jim drags those he can out of the rubble, and begins administering what rudimentary first aid he can amidst the chaos. He tears up clothing to make tourniquets, elevates injured limbs, and talks softly to those on the brink. On occasion he pulls a silver flask from his jacket, and allows an injured soul a slug from its contents. All the while, he is alternately screaming at others to help out, get supplies, and occasionally, to 'fuck right off'. His presence is not one of leadership, but some stunned bystanders seem to acknowledge his cries, and join him in aiding the injured.

Hept-Seshet looks around and she grabs a few people and she points them at some people, "You, put pressure on that wound like this." and she shows the person how and then she points the other person at another wounded person, "You, hold pressure on her headwound." she then stalks over to Erick, her little form likely like a puff of edierfdown but the fury in her golden eyes packs a whallop, "Ypou don't worry about the stupid scut snapping pictures! Help with the wounded, let him be a jackass, the hurt people need help more!" she souts before turning to help more, organizng more bystanders.
Isobel has partially disconnected.

Ryan arrives in a blue-green chevy, pulling as close as he can to the scene without interfering with police or individuals trying to get out of the area. When he gets as close as he can with his car, Ryan then parks and gets out to wander into the area on foot. He retrieves a small disposable camera from the vehicle before making his way in Isaac's direction. "Tragedy makes everyone edgy," Ryan says as if to catch Isaac's attention, "Best to leave him be. As Ted's elsewhere, it'd be helpful if you got a few pictures as we do what we can to help." Ryan then offers Isaac the camera before gazing about the scene to decide how best help can be given.

Siomen stands and watches, he shifts his backpack slightly and blinks at the scene, he seems rather quiet and just takes it all in. He doesn't seem to recognize anyone, nor want to be bothered by anyone either.

Isaac grunts and takes the camera. "Your the damn reporter, you should be doing this." Still, he makes sure to get a snapshots of the strange flames coming from the store, the helpers, and any apparent damage caused while standing back.

The sirens finally arrive, not too bad of a response time. Though judging from the fierce flames,the damage is done, the fire fighters will have a time of containing the blaze, let alone saving any of the building. And if anyone was inside... it'd be a good bet they aren't alive any longer. But none the less, the fire trucks pull through the crowd and Toronto's Bravest scatter to their work. 3 ambulances pull into the scene as well, and the paramedics start to take over the first aid.

Skip arrives from the north.
Skip has arrived.

John arrives from the west.
John has arrived.

Silvius pages: okay, Isobel is kicking at you and making a grab for the camera, do me a favor and roll me a

Compton rolls dexterity+dodge privately to Silvius at diff 6.
For a total of 2 success(es).

Silvius pages Compton and Isobel: Okay, Isobel's action was successful, so if is could pose it, and Compton, when your pose comes up, pose your reaction, yet failure to resist please ;)

Isobel slips through the cars towards Compton, gritting her teeth as she suddenly goes into action. With a whirl of her feet she suddenly slams Compton with a flying drop kick... the camera sails into the air....... and falls smashing to the ground as she strikes with incredible agility... and jumps back...

Erick blinks as he is dissrespected in hsi neighborhood again. "Lass. If ya interfere with tha professionals doing tha medical work again I will see yer bitch ass taken in fer it. Don'tcha give me another god damn order, and what I said about getting the fook out goes just as well fer you." He looks back at issac, too many people with Cameras. So long as he don't take yer picture doin tha let him keep his guy gettin the pictures is actually helping. Then damn the tux he's moving to the front of one of the bucket brigades, until the hoses can get to work.

the hoses finally get hooked up and the water starts flying. The few fire personnel that are not on hose teams start to usher the civilians back, breaking up the bucket brigades with words of appreciation. Off i the distance more sirens can be heard approaching. The rescue personnel finally get the wounded under control, thanking those who have been helping but asking them to back off and allow them to do their jobs.

Compton, who is just doing his part to record the incredible vitality of the human spirit for prosperity spots the crazy woman heading at him at the last moment. He tries to move out of the way, but being older and heavier doesn't have much of a chance against an unprovoked attack like this. Isoble does her thing. $12.99 camera skitters away, and the big guy stands there just looking mighty insulted. "Crazy cunt." is all Compton deadpans.

Jim stands aside, allowing the crews to do their jobs. He looks around for a place that needs a hand. His jacket, hat and gloves are gone now, given to some more deserving soul. He stands caked in dust and slushy mud, coughing and shivering, his empty flask in hand and a glazed look in his eyes as he surveys the mayhem.

A bloodied and bruised redheaded boy pushes his way past the medics that try to tend to him. he looks beaten, not from the explosion, but more like he had just recently had his ass kicked good. He stumbles over to Erick and slumps against him, whispering to the man.

Hept-Seshet shakes her head a bit as she watches the mess going on and she sighs as she looks around.

Ryan simply nods to Isaac as he says, "Yeah, good afternoon to you as well." As Compton is 'attacked', Ryan frowns and mutters to Isaac, "Uh...keep taking pictures. I'll smooth things over..." He then steps aside to allow any firefighters and paramedics who might have arrived to pass without causing an obstruction. After all, there are plenty of stories of those who meant to help accidently causing more injury through their own incompetence. Instead, Ryan seems to quote as if his words were important, "After all, such photographs hold a great importance. Despite those who see the world through only the glassy world of television or the dry site of paper, there is still a need for them to be involved in such tragedies. How can one mourn the fallen if there is nothing to which their memory is held? How can one truly understand that which the police and firefighters must put up from day to day? How can one truly appreciate the safety which they take for granted? No, continue with your important role and you will be overlooked, but appreciated nonetheless."

Siomen watches in amazement at the scene. all this noise, burning, smoke... and now some fighting. He just shakes his head slightly in wonder.

Nothing helps people feel more calm and secure than to see a lawyer running towards the scene of an accident. Maybe not, but Skip Tanner thinks so. Attracted to the sounds of sirens and such like a deer to headlights, he slows his pace as he nears the scene. "All right, Skip, this is it. Gotta look good here" He takes a moment to check his hair, adjust his suit and make sure that there arent any sweat stains from the run. "Good, looking sharp. Important to look professional." Clearing his throat, he takes on a very serious expression and speaks to an imaginary person to practice his lines, "Im very sorry for your loss, maam and/or sir, but it is important at times like these to protect your interests and the interests of your family. You dont want to miss out on any reparation to damages" As he gets on to the more legal terms, he starts mumbling incoherently as if hes practiced the lines many times before until he finally just nods, "All right, sounds good. Lets get this show on the road." Adjusting his tie, he walks calmly towards the scene. This just might be a great opportunity for a little name and card dropping. Nearing the chaos, his carefully practiced lines start falling apart since Skip has never actually used them in a real life situation. Standing awkwardly in the middle of everything, he just dumbly asks, "Uh.does anybody need a lawyer?"

John blinks at the giant clusterfuck as he approaches down the street. He slips into an alley and moves through it as best he can toward the fire without being seen. The man blinks his eyes and they change colour briefly before taking on their normal blue. They are still somehow... different. He moves toward the crowd now quietly, keeping an eye out for something.

Isaac looks at John as he approaches and waves. He then tosses the camera to Ryan and says, "Right. Here, you sway off the vengeful drunkish soccer watchers while I do something else." He pads over to Skip and points to where the store owner or however looks like they might have been hurt is currently and says, "There you go, a real crisis. There's some people that might need your help."

Erick holds the boy to him, managing to get the blood smeared on his tux, seems to have forgotten he was wearing the damn thing. He picks the lad up, as he does he reaches into his pocket tossing a bill at Compton. "That should pay for camera." then he carries the boy to the nearest paramedic. Speaking to him softly. When he is done he makes sure the boy is in the poper hands and watches him, that look of rage on his face darker now.

Crisis always brings the nut jobs out it seems. Not out of the proverbial woodwork but out of what would normally be sane, moral people. Compton realizes he's been too close too long with such people. People who dream of greatness through out their mundane days, only to have something extreme happen and take licence to act out. He uses a good dose of rationality, zips up his parka, stuffs his hands in to his pockets and turns to go, only breifly pausing to pick up the battered camera.

~FIN~

[Ed. note: Penny plays pool. Really well. Impresses locals and makes a new friend.]

Pandora's Box - Pool Hall

The ceiling is set high with churning metal fans. The blades churn a thick haze of smoke from cheap cigars and the pungent aroma of sweat mixed with stale spilt beer. The bar runs the length of the far wall much like a saloon in an old western. A polished brass foot-rail gleams in the fading light of the occasional dropped match and guttering cigarette butt.
Many of the patrons watch each other with looks of a cautious calculation. Not only are those opposite the pool table viewed with suspicion, but also the few one might mistake as a friend. A darkness of nefarious deed reigns within the shadows as the lighting illuminates from the mouth down. It is as though the dark conspires to hide the intent deep within the eyes from the light of revelation. Then again the windows to these souls only come up black.
NIGHTZONE
--> Places and view enabled. <--

Contents:
Pool Table
Chuck
Obvious exits:

Devros moves past the usual drunkards, taking a quick stop by the bar and casting a glance over Chuck. "The usual, Chuckie.." He doesn't bother taking a seat, merely leaning his back against the counter and settling his gaze on the 'crowd', checking for familiar faces.

There's a table toward the back that's been left in mid-play, cues crossed over the felt as clear indicators. One of the two players is off in the corner counting out singles and the other, Penny, is just lighting up returning from a bathroom break. Taking a 'fuck it, I'll stay' approach to the game, she unties the sash of the trench she wears and throws it at high stool where it lands, crumpled.

"Oi," beckoning with two fingers to the shark counting out, she takes a drag and fingers down a stick "s'finish, hey?"

The guy's amused. He thinks she's funny. "Yeah a'right sweetheart, double or nothin'?" It's obvious he's winning. Five stripes, one solid left. And the eitghtball.

Devros soon takes his eyes from the ranting beggar in the corner, his gaze drifting to the pool table, an exciting spot to peep at, as always. The bartender returns a few moments later, handing Dev a bottle of beer. "Thanks. Put that to my tab..", he calls, coming a few steps closer to the table, not making the fact he's overhearing the chat very subtle.

Winning but not confident or comfortable in the least, his bravado lacks sincerity. This guy - let's call him Greg, Greg has a look about him, like he's out of his element. He gives any casual spectator the impression, given the sweat beading on his upper lip and forehead, that he's about to lose a great deal of money.

The chalkboard behind them shows Penny as three up on him.

"C'mon, it's your shot" she leans back to a post, tall enough that the shadows linger from the nose down, her smoke curling ever upwards, the cut of her smile terrible.

You don't really have to be much of a skilled pool player to realize the guy will have a hard time topping his opponent and getting the jackpot. Devros takes another step forward, slipping a gloved hand down the side of his trench and pulling a pack of cigarettes. As if the bar weren't foggy enough. He watches the rest of the game intently, glancing between Greg and Penny.

Making a fist of his left hand, Greg knuckles down to the felt. Somewhere under the din of voices at the bar there's music. His brow wrinkles but it's clear he can't concentrate, not with Penny watching so smug. There she is, breathing easy. Isn't she? He looked away for a second and she vanished but the door to the back hallway's still swinging shut so he picks up and rests heavily on the cue, asiding to someone sympathetic "That's like the hun'eth time she done that, yeah?"
"Yeah. Fucken girls man."
"Whadaya think's up with that?"
"No idea man, don't ask tho' ..chicks hate it when you ask."

It was only five minutes, maybe six that Penny was gone and as she comes back, her hand's smoothing down the right side of her shirt, tugging at it. Picking out a stripe from the left corner pocket, she rolls it back out to the table - some weird house rule, maybe? But it does explain a lot.

Smoked down to the filter already, she goes "So?" laying down a coin on the edge "let's go."

Ready for it, Greg hunkers down to the tableside again, lines up behind the big white ball and scratches.

Devros pulls a cigarette, replacing the pack for his white lighter. His gaze only leaves the table to follow Penny on her way to the bathroom, and then back to Greg. He curls his lips into a thin smile, shaking his head at the poor guy, aware of his defeat. As soon as the girl returns and the game is resumed, Dev moves towards the closest wall, resting his back against it.

Six stripes on the table, one for each pocket. Penny rolls the blue square across her stick, stalking the felt. Elbowing down to the ledge, she calls out every shot and procedes clockwise to make them in quick succession like she'd set it up and arranged it this way. Except for the eightball.

Poor Greg, he never had a chance. "Oh t'hell with it," his hand rolling the eight into the side pocket, standing there slack-jawed, pissed off and much poorer than when he started off the night, the bowl full of coins and bills going toward's Penny's end of the table. She has no hangers-on, no one's asking her to buy the next round - this isn't that kind of place, these aren't that sort of people. As she counts out, the coins go one by one into the pocket of the trench and the bills get folded up into her back pocket.

Hana comes in, smoking. She pauses near the door to finish her cigarette, which she ditches in an abandoned glass on the nearest table. Time to start staking out the place. All the regulars know her by now, sometimes irritation in their eyes, sometimes pleasure, as they glance at her wandering form. She walks through the tables, looking slowly from one to the next.

Catherine opens the door and walks into the pool hall.
Catherine has arrived.
Aaron opens the door and walks into the pool hall.
Aaron has arrived.

Aaron smiles to Catherine and follows her gesture to the pool table, 'Sure...but what will the stakes be?"

Hana decides none of the current games are worth it, and starts for the door again.

Devros casts a glance over Hana as she enters, recognizing her face from a few nights ago. His attention soon returns to the pool game though, being held between a drunken local and Penny. It's another casual night at Pandora. More strangers follow, deserving another glance by the shaven-headed freak. Not much of a surprise there either, since there's always someone new to join the fun.

Catherine blushes and gives Aaron a look. She then heads towards the bar, pointing to something on the menu.

Aaron nods to Hana as he passes and moves to join Caterine, nodding to her as he settles down

Hana opens the door and walks out onto the stoop.
Hana has left.

Catherine orders a beer.
Chuck grunts towards Catherine, then brings the order she ordered.
Chuck sends the Catherine's order sliding to the end of the bar, where is sits an waits for Catherine to pick it up.
Aaron takes a seat at the barstools.
Aaron orders a Hard Cier.
Chuck nods and fixes the order for Aaron.
Aaron says "OK..I give up spelling tonight"
Catherine picks up the beers, seeing that Aaron made an order himself. Oh well, she heads towards the table.

Watching Penny's display with the cue, Dev has to face she's actually good. Good enough to beat him, perhaps? As the poor sob wanders out to drink his sorrows, the shaven-head wanders towards Penny. Hands are slipped on each side pocket of his trench, and a weak, somewhat half-assed smile is open. "That was a good game..for a newbie, I mean.."

"So buy me a drink, I'll letcha school me" nodding back toward the empty table. Clearly she was good - good enough that all the locals scattered; nobody wants to play her. Still busy rifling through the pockets of the coat, Penny refolds the headphones inside one of the pair of pockets, half looking over her shoulder at Devros "Go on, hey? Something girly," she stresses, at once laconic and louche "with an umbrella."

The business of setting up the table again is Penny's alone. There isn't even one empty mug or bottle for her to bug the waitress about.

Aaron blinks at Cathy and gets up from the tbar with his drink. He smiles, 'Sorry , love...can't stand beer..'

Aaron gets up from the barstools.
Catherine takes a seat at the barstools.
Catherine shrugs She says something in a language you don't understand. She sits so she can watch the game that seems to be starting She says something in a language you don't understand.
Aaron takes a seat at the barstools.

Devros blinks in surprise after her first statement, caught somewhat off guard. "..well, that was..straight forward.." He grins, flicking the cigarette butt aside and placing his bottle on the table in front of him. "Oh..right..something girly..with an umbrella..Ok.." He nods to himself a few times. "..I can offer some beer..Cuz, you know..We're out of umbrellas..and girly drinks..." He casts a glance over his shoulder, sizing the couple of strangers briefly, and then gesturing to Chuck, ordering the usual. "..Just don't mind the funny taste.."

Catherine looks after Aaron as he heads into the the bathroom, sitting alone on the chair, swaying her legs and sipping the beer. A blush and a smile as Devros looks her way, then just waits.

Penny racks up stacking in some obscure and arcane numbering order, rolls the triangle forward a few times then finger-tightens the group; no room to move. While she waits for Devros to get back with the drinks, chalking her cue again Penny reaches back into the depths of a corner pocket for the cue ball. She polishes it against her thigh, grime twisting off it in her hand.

Chuck actually makes his way to the pool table, fetching her a pitcher of good ol' Canadian beer and a glass mug before wandering back to his dirty bar. "So, let's just go to the standard questions..", Devros asks, taking a sip from his own bottle. "Do you come here often?"

Perfunctory and effective enough to keep Penny interested, she nods "..but not enough to make a living at it," and she smiles. It's true. Chuck knows her, gives her a hey-what's-up but not much more. Chuck also knows she's dead-serious most of the time. She picks up a mug, wipes it out with the edge of one of her shirts and pours "Next?"

Catherine stays on her stool, but starting to watch the exchange by the pool table more intently.

"Hey, that's good to know." he says, although his tone of voice doesn't make it obvious he meant it. "Hmhmk..Lesse.." Devros looks upwards, thinking to himself. "Okies then, how about your name? Or alias..I don't really care..Just want to keep track of your tabs..", he shrugs lightly.

Drinking while Devros ponders, Penny rounds the corner of the table sweeping out stray bottlecaps from underfoot. "It's Penny." She says that with a kind of telling finality - that it's entirely possible she doesn't care who he is and won't be offering more than that.

"Well then Penny, it's good to meet another face to our humble shithole..", he smiles, brightly at first, but that rapidly fades. "..and lacking any sort of originality, that's pretty much all I have.." Devros chuckles, slipping his hands back down the side pockets. "Next time you're around, bring some cash..I'm sure ripping off these idiots is a profitable side job, but I mean, where's the fun in that?"

Well, since Aaron seems to be gone like, forever Cathy slips off the chair. Sipping her drink..
"Now's the part where you offer me a cigarette," pouring herself another mug "and tell me your name. And then I tell you 'I'm really not in it for the money, it's how I get my kicks' and then we play." Threading the needle of her stance, she's remarkably still. Lower to the table, bending and leaning just so, Penny focuses down the stroking line and exhales, shoots the cue and the loud crack of a clean break splits out.

Still narrating to Devros, Penny watches the balls roll and knock into eachother "And then you tell me 'I don't know if I really feel like playing now' and then I kinda give you this look and wait for a light and I ask 'So why is it I should bring cash?' And you say.." leaving the opening there.

"...Because..of my good looks..? C'mon, that's a tricky question.." He quirks a brow, grabbing the pack from his pocket and tossing on the table. There are only two cigarettes left. "You can keep some greens in your back pocket. A couple of hundreds, maybe? Then whenever I'm around, we play..I'd be more then willing now, but it was a long day, and the kids must be missing me, so..Will have to bring the extra cash on a later occasion.." Devros sighs heavily, turning and making his way across the room, back to the entrance. "Oh..right..Name's Devros..", is said along the way.

Penny fishes out a cigarette, picking off a lighter from someone else nearby. Sure, that was normal. "Pussy," she murmurs around the smoke with a hard glare at the path Devros' parts, tossing the stick to the table.

That about sums it up for Penny. She pulls her things together, headphones go back around her neck, trench gets remantled and sashed gingerly .. for whatever reason.