butdid_youdie (butdid_youdie) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-03-03 20:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | npc, tasha sloan, ~luke jager |
Let Me Guess
Who: Luke/Tasha/NPC
What: Meet and Greet
Where: Somewhere Between Vegas and Searchlight
When: Valentine's
Ratings/Warnings: Violence
Tasha was recovering from the Lucky’s brawl well. Physically, at least. As she sat at the bar of some dive, a Valentine’s Day drink special sat in front of her, some lethal-looking neon pink concoction with a maraschino cherry floating on top like an undiscovered corpse. She had already drunk two. They were sickly sweet, but potent, and cheap. Just the way the hunter liked it. The pink plastic sword that had speared the cherry was in her mouth, and she moved it from side to side with her tongue in lieu of smoking a cigarette, which she was trying to quit.
On the jukebox, country music played, and single people perched on stools or raised chairs, sad and dull-eyed. The next day, she might buy some discounted chocolate. Tasha hadn’t decided yet. The stool next to her was empty, the vinyl seat cracked and split, revealing pale-colored foam stuffing. So far, she hadn’t seen anything she liked, but she was open and the night was young.
Luke was still moving about the edges of Searchlight after making his way there through Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona. It had been a long drive and he hadn’t really noticed what day it was as he parked his truck outside of the bar. It was night - time for a drink and place to sleep. He then got a heavy hit of what day it was as he walked into the bar. The pink, red, and heart-shapes assaulted his senses and he grumbled to himself as he walked over to the bar and sat on the empty stool beside Tasha.
He wore layers of brown and black. His beard was trimmed a bit, but still was a tad bit straggly. His dark brown hair was a mess mane tucked behind his ears. His look often read as a stereotype. But he liked it as a disguise.
“Scotch - neat,” Luke spoke to the bartender. He looked over at Tasha and gave her a friendly nod.
Tasha noted the friendly nod, and turned slightly to give the newcomer a cursory once-over. Beyond the bearded scruffiness, she could see some delicate features hiding. She sort of liked the contrast between his rough appearance and blue of his eyes, which some would have definitely described as pretty. Upon hearing his order, she cracked a smile. “Are you sure you don't want one of these?” the hunter asked, gesturing to her own drink. “It features pink vodka. I’m not sure what pink tastes like, exactly, but it’s interesting. And a thrifty choice at only three dollars, today only.”
She winked at the bartender, who rolled their eyes and wandered off to pour Bearded Guy’s scotch.
The beard was mostly to make himself look older. If he didn’t have the beard, he’d look like fifteen going on twenty-five. The blue eyes was something he couldn’t hide. “Mmm?” Luke hummed at Tasha’s asking about the obscenely pink drink she had. Even if it was cheap, he was not going to have one. It was bad enough he was born on Valentine’s Day. Luke wasn’t going to surrender to the commercialism. “I’ll pass, thanks,” he smiled, his voice laced with laughter.
A smile crept over her face. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to mess with him. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was instinctual, and there was just something about him. “Hold on,” Tasha said, narrowing her eyes, though her tone remained playful. “Are you too manly for pink? Is that what it is?” As if to punctuate the point, she picked up her glass and took a long sip through the straw, her eyes locked on his.
The hunter held out her free hand. “Natasha,” she said, going with her full name on a whim.
The bartender brought Luke’s drink and Luke picked it up and took a sip. “No.” He wrinkled his nose and sat his drink down. “For your information, I don’t assign specific colors a gender.” He took a generous sip of his Scotch and shook his head. Luke had been teased, messed with a good bit. It was the knocks of growing up smack in the middle of five kids.
“Luke,” he nodded and reached out to slip his hand in Tasha’s.
“Luke,” Tasha repeated, letting the ‘K’ sound pop on her tongue. She drained the rest of her drink and set it back down on a coaster. “Nice to meet you.” She glanced past him, as if expecting to see someone emerge from the restroom or materialize from somewhere else, to claim him.
“Single on V-Day, too?” the hunter asked curiously.
“Likewise,” he smiled and turned a bit on his stool to face her properly. Luke took another sip of his drink and watched her face, following her eyes. Just like another type of hunt. He’d been on his own for a while, pretty single his entire life.
“Isn’t that obvious?” the other hunter asked, wanting to keep the conversation light.
“Not always,” she countered, taking a break from pounding them back. Besides, sweet drinks always caused a hell of a hangover for her. Honestly, she should have stuck to her usual, but a bargain was a bargain. Tasha fiddled with the metal hardware on her black leather jacket.
“You kind of look like a trucker,” she commented. “But like a hot trucker. Or maybe a biker.”
He was often disciplined about his public alcohol consumption. In private, it was a different story. Luke was in layers of cotton, leather, and denim. A lot of the time, his looks kept people away. But other times like this, he hadn’t offended.
“Not too far off. I do drive a lot.”
Tasha plucked the cherry out of her empty glass and ate it. She was starting to get hungry, which usually ended with unwise food choices after she had been drinking. “You know,” the hunter began, leaning in slightly as if revealing some deep secret, “you really should work on not being so talkative.” She shot him a teasing smile. “I can barely get a word in edgewise.”
Luke stuck out his tongue at her, smiling at the teasing. “Mmm, goodness me.” Then he leaned back a little and turned to empty his glass. “So, what do you do - food critic?”
She nodded solemnly. “Oh, yeah. I’ve visited and critiqued such illustrious restaurants as my barren kitchen at 3 AM, the corner store by my apartment that sells expired packets of ramen, and the airport Chili’s.”
He wrinkled his nose, still smiling. “I bet the airport Chili’s wasn’t the top pick.” Luke shook his head and pulled some money from his pocket.
“You might be right.” Tasha watched him pull out cash and raised an eyebrow. Either he was a lightweight, or getting tired of being in her bored crosshairs. “Expired ramen is like fine wine, it just gets better with age. I love when the flavor packet is like a solid brick.” The hunter tilted her head. “Hey, you ever notice how those things kind of look like condoms? Because of the silver foil and the shape.”
It was more of being a little worn out from being on the road for twelve hours. Luke was planning on finding a bite to eat and crashing at the El Rey. Laying the money on the bar, he kept his eyes on Tasha. “No, I haven’t. But the ramen can sometimes have the texture of one.” This woman was hilarious.
“Very good point, Luke,” Tasha praised him. Then she thought of something that nearly made her fall off of her stool with laughter. “Wouldn’t it suck if you mixed up the two? Like, you’re on a really good date and things are getting heated, you reach into your wallet and pull out…” The hunter stifled a snort. “Seasoning.”
Nodding a ‘thank you’, Luke smirked. “Mmm,” he snorted a little. “Yes, and in a huge world of hurt if it has red pepper in it. Wow, that would be so…,” the hunter chuckled, “...terrible. Always separate your condiments and condoms.”
Tasha waved down the bartender and asked to settle her tab; she had given him her debit card at the beginning of the night. It was simpler that way, and she didn’t have to count out cash. As she signed the receipt and wrote in a tip, she glanced up at the bearded man next to her. “Are you staying in Vegas, or…?” She trailed off, unsure of where she was heading, conversationally.
He watched Tasha, as he did many of the people in the establishment, looking for any of the telltale signs of being a were. Luke had learned what to look for over the last twenty-two years. “...or?” The Hunter asked, lifting an eyebrow. He wondered what Tasha’s intentions were exactly, having been in situations that could go in a handful of directions.
“Or...somewhere else?” Tasha prodded. Getting information out of Luke was like being a detective questioning a particularly recalcitrant but polite suspect. They had danced around being direct all night, and she was still on the right side of drunk to notice. A question occurred to her that might be more telling than he realized. “Are you heading to Searchlight, possibly?”
Placing his money on the bar, Luke shook his head. “Are you needing a ride?” He replied back with another question. It was easy to see that Tasha was fishing for something - information, a ride, perhaps something else. But the Hunter wasn’t going to give up information in case the woman was someone dangerous or had dangerous friends. He reached up and wiped at his eyes, letting a yawn escape his lips which wasn’t difficult. Luke had truly been driving a long while.
“No, I typically manage to find my way home on my own,” Tasha commented. She watched him yawn and decided not to take it personally. She slipped her card into her wallet and stood up from the stool. “There might be some pit stops along the way, but I usually wake up knowing where I am.” The hunter paused. “Usually.”
“That’s good,” Luke smiled and turned to nod to the bartender to keep the change before turning his attention back to Tasha. He slipped off the stool and stood, watching her slip on the jacket. “Good. Nothing like sleeping in your own bed.” Luke hadn’t slept in his own bed in a long time. His vehicle didn’t really count.
“So, I guess this is goodbye, Luke. If that is your real name.” She checked her pockets to make sure she had her keys, cell phone, wallet, and of course a weapon. “Do you want to walk me out?”
“Okay, Natasha, if that is yours.” Luke winked. He was almost always armed - knife in his left boot, gun under his left arm, and a larger knife at his right hip. “Yes. Let me walk you out.” The Hunter began walking ahead of Tasha and opened the door to let her exit first.
Out of the street, he looked both ways even if they weren’t immediately stepping out on the street. Luke looked back at Tasha and asked, “Left or right?”
“Right.”
This directive wasn’t given by Tasha, but rather a deep voice belonging to a form in the shadows. Tasha’s hand instinctively went to her weapon, thinking briefly that it might be one of the ultra-aggressive hunters from Lucky’s. A man stepped forward, compact but strong looking, and there was a flash of teeth in the minimal light of the parking lot. Vampire. She shot a quick glance at Luke. “You might want to get out of here,” she told him.
At the voice definitely being Tasha’s, Luke’s jaw tightened and he reached for the knife at his hip. His hand had moved quickly and his bright eyes squinted a little at the man. Damn, he hated those silent-moving creatures. The male Hunter had caught the movement of Tasha’s hand out of the corner of his eye. “No, you.” he told her and looked over at the vampire.
“Come on, snaggletooth!”
Tasha rolled her eyes. ‘No, you.’ Cool, Luke was a third-grader with an impressive beard. She pulled out a sharply honed wooden stake. “I think I’ll stick around,” she commented. “Night’s getting interesting.” The vampire began circling around the two of them in what she thought was supposed to be menacing. “This is the part where the vampire hypnotizes you with his agonizingly slooow movements,” the hunter explained to Luke. “Sometimes I’ll play along, but other times -- “
She cut herself off as she aimed a kick at the vampire’s knee, watching it buckle with satisfaction. “This is usually funner.”
Meh, Luke wasn’t against decapitating a vampire. Besides there was probably a wooden fence post not too far away to use as a makeshift stake. The one night he didn’t have one on his belt “My kind of night,” he smirked as he held the knife with the blade bracing the back of his forearm. “Would that be more like boring you to death?” He asked back as he was ready to make the first hit.
But then he was too slow, watching Tasha kick the vampire. Then Luke went in and kicked the vampire’s other knee for good measure, watching the creature topple. Putting a boot down on one of the vampire’s shoulders, he sighed.
Tasha watched, bemused, as the vampire was taken down by Luke’s extraneous kick. She held the wooden stake aloft so that the bloodsucker could get a really clear look at it. “Do you come here often?” she asked dryly. “Or was it the draw of the Valentine’s special?” She glanced at Luke to see if he was making any kind of facial expression.
Instead of answering her mostly rhetorical question, the vampire hissed -- he was really leaning into the whole aesthetic, apparently -- and grabbed Luke’s foot in an attempt to wrench the other man off of him.
Luke was amused by his taking down the vampire. It had been a while since one came along that was so brutish. He turned his head a little, watching Tasha as she spoke but didn’t smile. This was work-time - business.
Reaching back underneath his coat, he had found the makeshift stake he had made back in Colorado - a hardwood shiv just in case he was too forgetful to remember his stake. Then he lifted the foot at the grab and kicked the vampire’s chin. “Fine,” Luke growled as he pressed his boot down on the creature’s throat. He was fine for playing a little. Besides, Tasha seemed to have a better weapon.
So, they weren’t going to be getting anywhere with this particular vampire. Tasha was okay with that. She was getting tired, anyway. The hunter unceremoniously brought the stake down with the force and strength necessary to pierce the heart with a wooden object. The vampire immediately went still and rigid, eyes wide and open but unblinking.
“You got this from here, right?” she asked Luke, wiping blood off of the weapon. “You can just chuck him in your, I don’t know, pickup truck? I’m assuming you drive a large vehicle of some kind.”
It had been a while since Luke had hunted with only one other person. Most of his hunts were solo unless he joined up with a group. He watched Tasha be so straightforward with her action. Nice. Casually, the hunter took his foot off the now unmoving and dead vampire.
“Yeah,” Luke breathed. “That I do. Know of any of the usual dumping spots?” He was on trash duty. Through his long hair, he gave Tasha a look. “So...how long have you been hunting?”
“Since I could walk, I guess?” Tasha smirked. “Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but for a long time.” She looked around the parking lot with a low level of concern that was dulled by alcohol. “We should probably get this guy loaded up and out of sight. And by we, I mean you.” The hunter gave Luke a winning grin.
“Uh huh,” Luke shook his head. “You get to do the exciting part. I get the heavy lifting,” he slipped his shiv back into a holster and yanked the vampire up by his waist, avoiding any blood. The hunter hoisted him up a bit more to make it look like the dead bloodsucker was a drunk but with a nasty chest wound. “I think I saw some ditches just outside town.” Luke added as he began to walk the body around to a dark-colored extended cab truck that was parked in the shadow of the security light.
Tasha suppressed a triumphant laugh when she spotted the truck. “I knew it,” she muttered. She watched Luke toss the inert vampire into the cab. “It looks like you’ve got it from here, so I’ll be figuring out my way home now.” The hunter pulled out her phone and composed a text message to someone.
“Have fun marking up another day lived and a menace staked,” Luke sighed as he turned back to Tasha after making sure the cab of his truck was not getting messy with blood. “Right. Have fun.” He shook his head and plucked his keys from his pants pocket. Man, the hunter was tired. Who knew what would be open to grab some food when he was done tossing the carcass.