Who: Kyle and Lilah What: Drinking and chatting and visions oh my! (Or, while visions of dead hookers danced in his head!) Where: The Red Door When: Pre-Joker heist
Kyle had worked late that night, the Creations were starting to get unruly, the "heroes" and "vigilantes" were making headlines, and people were dying all over the city. It was a bad day to be Kyle West. He worked hard, harder than most, long hours, long days, he did what he could to help people, and once in a while he thought he was doing a good job. Sometimes it was hard not to get disheartened by it all, but he was able to turn that part off. Frustration at others, that was only something that fueled his desire to do well at his job.
It was frustration at himself that held him back, frustration about his lost family, frustration at his ability that was impossible to control and even more impossible to utilize. So he numbed it with booze and pills as best he could. He knew there was a word for people like him, he arrested people like himself every day, but the rules were different for him. He had good reason, he was doing the right thing no matter what the cost to himself. He ignored the part of his brain that told him he liked it, he liked the feeling of being high and drunk and knowing it gave him a little extra power. He could actually see the future, and maybe just maybe if he got drunk enough he'd be able to touch it, and taste it, maybe even stop bad things from happening.
Tonight wasn't about chasing down visions though, it was about chasing away demons. He was in a new place he'd never been, a place no one would recognize him (he hoped). He was hiding tonight, hiding from the bad things that had happened that he hadn't been able to stop. He was hiding from his family that he'd let down, hiding from all of his failures and not unlike every person in this dive bar, he was numbing it all.
He was on his third or fourth glass of whiskey when the bartenders apparently did a shift change and when he looked up to order his drink he was greeted with a new face, "You bartenders are about as sneaky as they come," he said though there was clear amusement in his voice, and a strong hint of Boston in his dialect, he never bothered hiding it, there were some parts of himself he'd never be ashamed of again.
Lilah worked the late shift tonight, which meant she'd spent most of the day sleeping and generally lazing around her apartment. Some days she liked work, some days she hated it; but most of the time she was simply indifferent. It was something she did to earn money, and to keep suspicion away - in all truthfulness she likely could have afforded an apartment in Aubade, but since most of her cash was achieved through illegal means, it just wasn't practical.
She was clad in a pair of dark slim jeans paired with a purple corset top, casual without being plain (the one time she'd showed up in something long-sleeved, her boss nearly had a heart attack) and paired with black ankle boots. Too lazy to do anything with her hair, she'd simply washed it and let it air-dry, so it spilled past her shoulders in waves. Tonight she was closing, which wasn't her favorite thing in the world to do - but maybe she'd get lucky and make some good tips. Money always made up for quite a bit. That, and the rare interesting customer who actually offered some semblance of conversation - or useful information.
The time until her shift started was spent hanging out in the back, surveying the bar to get an idea of what tonight's patrons would be like. Lilah headed out and slid behind the bar's counter a couple minutes early, tapping the bartender she was relieving on the shoulder and flashing a grin that made her cheeks hurt. "Go on, get out of here." Luckily she wasn't the only bartender working tonight, but the other girl was over at the opposite end, so she immediately settled into her usual routine and made the guys sitting near her end were taken care of before keeping an eye out for waiters or waitresses approaching. When the man who seemed set on building up a collection of empty glasses (she'd been watching him) glanced up and commented on the change, she rested her elbows on the bar and shrugged. "It's in the job description," she told him with a smile, glancing at his empty glasses. "You want another one of those?"
"Well you do it well," he said and tipped his glass to her a bit before finishing it quickly and setting it down. "In the movies you always see the guy saying, 'leave the bottle' that trick never works no matter how much money I throw down," he said shrugging a bit, "So yes, keep them coming," he wasn't being demanding or obnoxious, he was a polite drunk, he got a little big chested and egotistical from time to time, but for the most part he knew if he wanted to keep drinking he'd better be nice to the one's doing the serving.
Lilah had seen guys like this before, who would have been more than happy to drink every ounce of alcohol in the place and still ask for more. "I might not be able to give you a bottle, but I can definitely keep them coming." She wasn't going to be the one who cut him off - making sure he got a taxi afterward was a small price to pay for keeping the drunks happy. She hadn't seen this one around before, and like all newcomers, she wondered what his story was. Refilling the glass with ease, she took a moment to slide a bottle down to another customer (who slid her a crumpled bill in return) before returning her attention back to the whiskey guy. "So, what brings you here? You must be new, since I tend to work a lot and I've never seen you before," she added.
"I tip well," he assured her and put his own money down on the bar for her once his drink was refilled. He wasn't rich, he wasn't some classy heavy tipper, he was just grateful for what he considered good service. If a taxi got him somewhere swiftly, if a bartender didn't ignore him, if a waiter said thank you...It was all pretty simple stuff. Kyle was a nice guy, he had his problems, but he was a decent enough human being. He took a drink of his whiskey and smiled a bit, "It is my first time here," he admitted, "I've got a few other local haunts, but the problem there is no one seems to be able to leave you alone on the nights you feel like drinking alone," he said shrugging a bit. That was the problem when you were a "regular" somewhere. All the other drunks wanted to chat about their issues, Kyle just wanted to drink, talk to people who didn't know him, and get lost in his own mind for a few hours. As scary as that was.
He earned himself a grin for that, especially since most drunks never seemed to be able to make head or tail of the bills they had in their wallet. "I think I like you already." Not that this guy had reached such an extreme point yet, but everyone had different limits, and it wasn't always easy to tell when they'd passed said limit unless they made it obvious. Lilah liked polite drunks - it was the rowdy shit-disturbing ones that really got on her nerves. Luckily the bar wasn't too crowded tonight, and compared to some of her other shifts it was downright quiet. If she was really lucky, it'd stay that way. "Ah." She nodded knowingly. As curious as she was about his issues, it wasn't her job to pry - not unless he spoke willingly, of course. Even a name would do for now. "Well, around here we'll make sure no one bothers you." She lined up some of the bottles behind the counter, glancing down at one that was nearing empty before looking back up. "And if I'm ever bordering on the 'too talkative' line, just say the word." Lilah mimed zipping up her lips before flashing another smile.
He chuckled at her, "I get that a lot," he responded, yes he was a favorite of bartenders everywhere. He was the easiest kind of drunk, a bit stoic at times and definitely on the broody and pained side of things, but never violent or obnoxious.
He waved his hand a bit, "It's alright, strangers aren't so bad on days like this, it's the ones who know ya that ya gotta look out for," he said finishing off his drink quickly and setting the empty glass down toward her side of the bar.
"A definite point in your favor, then. Sometimes we get new faces because they've been thrown out if their usual establishments of choice." Honestly, it was pathetic how some of the down-and-out drunks wandered from all corners of the earth looking for whatever they could get - like sad little puppies, she often thought, but not the cute kind. Broody and pained she could handle, and actually didn't mind too much; but violent and obnoxious was where she drew the line.
Oh, Lilah could certainly relate to that." I hear you," she said sympathetically - well, as sympathetic as she could bring herself to sound. It wasn't really her thing, and it was still a little tricky to get the tone down right. "Luckily I don't know you, so I think we're fine." She refilled his glass without a moment's pause, having gone through the same motions so often that it came naturally now. He didn't look familiar, and thus she doubted that she knew him from anywhere.
He nodded, he knew all about those situations, when he had still been a beat cop he got called out on those calls regularly. Boston was a bit more rough around the edges than Seattle, but even Seattle had it's moments. "I can safely say I've not been eighty-sixed from any of the joints around town. And that's saying something considering I'm a cop, but they like my money." He figured it was good to let the cop part of the statement be known right off the bat, he wasn't here to cause trouble but he was packing heat, and the last thing he needed was to try and atone for that once he was a bit drunker.
He took a drink of his fresh one and grinned at her over the glass, "Name's Kyle by the way, Kyle West," he offered.
Well, well. Lilah was genuinely surprised to hear that he was a cop, because usually she was a good enough judge of character to at least suspect something like that. It wasn't the drinking thing, because she'd known a lot of cops who had their vices, and some were far worse than a little drinking problem. Corrupt cops were personally her favorite, because they were helpful rather than hindering, but it was always fun to toy with the relatively straight ones. "Good to know." It was brushed off slightly, however, as she rested her elbows on the bar and propped her chin up on her hands. His name, however, made her pause.
Kyle West. Why did that sound so familiar? It took her a moment, but once it clicked she had to bite her tongue to keep her expression from registering recognition. Of course - Kyle West and his brother, whatever his name was, had been marked men in the world of organized crime - until his brother ended up dead and he fell from grace and practically just vanished one day. What a coincidence that he'd end up here, right in front of her. For a moment she wondered if telling him her name was a good idea, but it should be safe enough - she'd never been arrested or even formally charged. Her trademark had been staying under the radar - she was often the secret weapon, after all, and secret weapons couldn't become too public.
"I'm Lilah." Bartenders didn't need to give last names, after all. (Just in case). "So, Kyle, you're a cop? You don't look like a rookie, so I'm guessing you're a little higher up... detective, maybe? Or maybe a sergeant."
He didn't recognize her at all, it would have surprised him that she recognized his name. His name back "home" was something that was well known, but here he'd been able to nearly disappear. He'd been able to start over, as much as he could anyway after what he'd been through. He was just a regular Joe around here, a cop for sure, and a damn fine one, but not Kyle West and with all the connotations that went along with that name.
"Good to meet you Lilah," he said tipping his drink towards her. "Detective," he answered. "Sergeant sounds good though," he said chuckling a bit.
She waited a moment, watching intently for even the dimmest spark of recognition, but much to her pleasure there was none. Good - it meant all her efforts to stay low and keep her name private worked. Of course she wasn't going to make it obvious that she recognized him, because that would be a very bad idea. Ignorance was the best way to go, in this case. Now that she knew Kyle West was around, though, she'd be sure to keep an eye out for him.
"Good to meet you too." Lilah wondered if he was a talkative drunk, or maybe alcohol didn't have much of an outward effect. It would be interesting to see. "I thought so. 'Detective West' - sounds impressive." She allowed a small smile, friendly enough without going overboard - she hated the bartenders who flirted outrageously with everyone. It was tacky. "Any plans to work your way up to Sergeant level?"
"You gotta have the right name for this kind of work," he said grinning a bit. It was a loaded statement, he had no idea she knew how well his name was known, no one in Seattle should know, but the Wests were very well known where he'd come from. He finished his drink and set his glass down and chuckled, "Oh definitely, I'm livin' the dream, there's a pension and a gold watch with my name on it."
The irony of his statement struck her as quite amusing, but she kept any hint of laughter off her face for the sake of keeping the fact that she recognized him a secret... for now, at least. There might come a time in the future when enlightening Kyle might be useful, but now wasn't it. "True. I bet some cops even change their names, just to make it sound better - of course, I'm sure if any did they'd deny it." Lucky for her, though, he'd left his name just the way it was. Perfect. "A lot of people would kill for that kind of security," she threw over her shoulder as she moved to grab a bottle to pour both him and the man sitting a few seats down from him another drink with the same smooth ease as always.
"I can't tell you how many beat cops we got demanding to be called Danno, Jim Rockford, hell we even had one guy wanting to be called "Ponch" once," he said grinning over his glass as he took another drink. Even Kyle West had a sense of humor once in a while.
For a moment she thought he might actually be serious, although she wouldn't have been surprised that there were people out there who were truly that pathetic. Lilah determined that he was joking, however, and grinned in response. "I'm sure all the crime in the city would tremble at the thought of Detective 'Ponch' hunting them down." She watched how much he drank without making it overly obvious that she was doing so, and had to have a grudging admiration for how well he seemed to hold his alcohol.
Kyle could definitely hold is alcohol, unfortunately thought it couldn't always hold him. He felt his heart rate begin to speed up and his head started to feel just a bit fuzzy. Dammit. He could feel intensity and pain of the vision coming before the vision actually started to become clear at all.
He closed his eyes tightly and sucked in a deep inhale of air as his fist clenched and he clenched his teeth, he could not make a scene here. Though there was no stopping it once it started. He saw it in flashes at first, a girl who he was sure wasn't more than 18 and was probably younger, a skeevy motel room, he watched, helplessly trapped inside his vision while the prostitute went about her business and ended up dead for it. He'd seen it before, he'd seen them all really. It didn't last long, he didn't see every detail but he'd seen enough and by the time it was over and the pain started to subside he realized that through the whole thing he'd been staring passed Lilah with his normal blank look and his hand on his forehead. He needed to capture it quickly, and he had no choice but to look back at her, "I need a pen and a piece of paper, Lilah," he said almost out of breath from it. He needed to draw her face, or draw the motel room, anything he could remember there had been a brochure on the table that his vision had given him a good look at. It was one more girl he couldn't save, but maybe it was still one step closer to finding the man who was doing it.
Kyle seemed fairly normal considering the kind of people she usually saw, so when he closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath she had enough decency to look concerned. "Kyle? You okay?" She thought maybe all that alcohol had finally gone to his head, or maybe he was having some kind of attack - did he have a medical condition or something? Then his eyes opened, but something was wrong; he stared past her like he saw something that no one else could, and even waving a hand in front of his face didn't invoke any sort of reaction. Jesus, what the hell was happening?
Lilah was just about to lean over the counter and give him a good shake when he seemingly snapped out of it, although breathlessly asking for a pen and paper wasn't quite normal. She regarded him with a puzzled frown before relenting. "Give me a sec," she told him, hurrying over to the other end of the bar and returning with a pen and a medium-sized notebook. "Here." Still puzzled, although she was now curious as well, the notebook and pen were set down in front of him as she waited to see what he wanted them for.
Kyle took the notebook and pen gratefully and with hands that were far more skilled than they looked he began drawing the face of the girl in one corner, and as his mind searched for different clues he moved to other parts of the page. The motel name was scribbled in the bottom left corner, the detailed face of the girl that was coming together more and more every time he went back to it, every time his mind remembered something else, he sat there in silence as he alternated between his sketches (first the girl, then the front of the motel, the car in the parking lot (he only had three numbers, he was missing three letters, even a tree outside the motel) any detail he could remember. After a bit he held the paper up toward Lilah, "Does any of this look familiar? The girl? The motel? Hell the car? Any of it?" he asked all frivolity of the evening was gone from his voice.
She watched with raised eyebrows as he sketched, although skepticism turned to an interested sort of confusion when a girl's face began to take form. Despite looking at it upside-down, she didn't recognize her; and the motel and the car seemed completely random to her as well. Lilah had seen some weird things in her time, especially once crossing over from Musings, but this was something new. Had he gone into some kind of trance, and what he was drawing was what he saw? It sounded crazy, but then again, having abilities in the first place sounded pretty crazy too.
Helping people had never been a particular concern of hers, but she actually made an effort to study the drawing and see if she recognized anything. "No, none of it... well. That name in the corner does sound familiar. I think it's a motel in one of the more questionable parts of the city... you know, a place most people don't usually go save for a certain type." She tilted her head to the side, frowning. "Something happen to that girl you drew?"
He listened carefully to what she said, "Thanks," he said to the small amount of information she gave him, it wasn't much but he was no doubt acting strangely. Kyle threw back the rest of his drink and shook his head once, "Not yet," he said leaving the rest unfinished, he hoped above all else that he would make it there on time, though he was sure he wouldn't. He slid off the bar stool and opened his wallet, he pulled out enough money to pay for his drinks and gave her a beyond generous tip, "Lilah, it was nice meeting you," he said and grabbed the notebook and didn't even take the whole thing, he ripped the page he'd drawn on and left the notebook and pen there. "Have a good night," he said though it was hurriedly as he left the bar.