Back at the Bar [O2A]

[Tha Nightmare 187]

"Fuck."

A cold breeze blew by that sent chills down his spine. It had been only a few hours since he had touch down in New York and he was already missing California. Tha Infamous One had returned back from his trip back home. He needed a quick getaway. There was a lot weighing on his mind in these recent weeks. The war with Kenji Katana, the confusion over the situation with Lilith, that whole mess with whatshisface and the American Dragons, his sanity being at wits end, ...and Smith. Ever since he stepped foot back into this city, it seemed like things were just getting worse and worse. Oh well. He shouldn't expect much less. He was Tha Infamous 187 after all. If he wasn't putting his foot in someone's ass, there would be someone trying to take his head off. He missed the sun, the sand, and the palm trees. He regretted returning back to the freezing snow and the icy winds. It was nice while it lasted. He got to see some friendly faces. He visited some old hang out spots. He managed to drop an interview while he was there. The best part about it was that he managed to do it all without getting into a fist fight or spending a night in jail. It must've been some kind of a miracle. The only good part about returning back to New York was that Lilith was here. He hoped she was still here. It would be terrible if she had fled town because of him. He'd have to wait and see what happens. What to do right now? He was back in New York and found himself walking through the entrance of a bar to get out of the cold.

Bartender: "Hey! You're back!"

...said the ditsy blonde that usually worked here on the weekends. She was one of the overly friendly types. The type who thinks if she's nice to everyone, they'll buy more drinks and she'll make more money that way. What she failed to realize was that he had never been the kind of person to indulge her ridiculous plan. Why she continued to use this method of serving him, he had no clue. He just took a seat in an empty stool at the bar and nodded to the ditsy bartender...

"Gimme my usual."

Bartender: "Alright! Coming right up!"

Off she bounces to go retrieve his glass and bottle of Hennessy. Literally. She bounced along like a skipping school girl. He drew a breath and let out a sigh. A moment later, the bartender came bouncing back with his order. She places the bottle and glass in front of him and nods...

Bartender: "There ya go!"

"Thanks."

He proceeds to open the bottle and empty it's contents into the glass in front of him. Then he sets the bottle down and he grabs his glass. He brought it up to his lips and took a quick drink from it. 187 set the glass down and began to nod his head slowly...

"Yup, yup. So great to be back in New York."

...he says, with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

[Mr. Smith]

A shady looking man walks into the bar. Shady, as in shaded. Yes, he was wearing sunglasses indoors. Plus one of those fedoras and a trenchcoat, looking as if he was some sort of old style spy or something rather. He walks with purpose, quick and methodic with a look like he'd probably shoot whatever drunkard gets in his way on sight.

He was looking for someone, and it wasn't long before he found that someone sitting right at the bar.

"Mr. Taylor? Adrian Taylor? I have a message for you."

[Tha Nightmare 187]

"For fuck's sake..."

A shady man in a bar where probably criminals, ex-cons, thugs, and the other assorted unfriendly faces of the underworld was no surprise to him. But a shady man in this bar who was looking for him personally? And calling him by his actual name? Not by the more famed name of Tha Infamous 187, but by his name Adrian Taylor. And there was a message for him... Ugh... Just got back in town and he's already got someone who wants to give him a message. What else could he expect? He can't step foot in any state without there being someone who was looking for him. And just when he thought he could have a nice quiet evening at the bar. That was too much to ask, he thought. He just looks at the shady guy with an eyebrow raised. He looked him up and down. Fedora, glasses, trenchcoat... Is this The Adjustment Bureau coming to tell him what his plan is supposed to be? He's not supposed to see Lilith again because it will ruin both of their lives forever. He didn't know. He figured he just get it over with. 187 nodded his head and responds with...

"A message, huh? Does it come with a little song and dance too? One of those funny, little singing telegrams people dread receiving on their birthday because someone thought it would be hilarious to embarass the birthday boy with some annoying message boy? Or is this one of those serious messages that I'm supposed to not joke about because it's about some real business?"

[Mr. Smith]

"That sir, is for you to decide. After all...I'm just the messenger."

A sly grin. He reaches into his coat. Normally a move like that in a place like this would make everyone inside reach for their own pockets, sleeves, and the bartender under the counter to unsheath his hand cannon or 12-guage. The man looked around though and nobody was actually paying mind. Probably too drunk. He pulls out an envelope, cliche as it is, and gently sets it on the bar counter next to 187's drink.

"Have a nice day."

That was it. No need for conversation. Just business. He was to send the message and now, the message was sent. That was it. He continues to grin as he adjusts the collar of his trenchcoat (you could say he was "popping" it), and takes his leave.

Now, what was in the envelope? What "message" could it possibly be, and from who? (you already know who, but try to act surprised.) The bartender looks at it, right along with 187.

"You gonna open it? Could be a bomb or something. "

[Kenji Katana]

On another side of the bar, unbeknown, he watches as the man delivers 187 the message and leaves. Surely it was Smith, he was the one with the money to send messages. Could be Carmella though, or Maybe Lilith. He wonders if she ever gave 187 an answer. Hopefully no .

He hears the bartenders statement, and mutters.


If I could only hope.

[Tha Nightmare 187]

"If it's a bomb, then I'm sure you'd have no problem collecting the insurance money from it... IF you survive the blast."

He cracked a smirk at the bartender. The bartender's joking smile turned to a shocked frown. The bartender knew 187 was joking, but he did have a point. That envelope was INSIDE the bar. 187 shook his head. A bomb? That would actually make his day a little more interesting in a sick and twisted sort of way. Like when you're flying on a plane and you have this thought in your mind that the only thing that could make the flight less boring is if one of the engines gave out. Maybe that's just that dark shadow of his whispering evil thoughts into his head. He reached down and picked the envelope up off of the bar.

"Let's see what we have here..."

He looked at it in the light. Trying to see if it's a letter and what it could possibly say. Unfortunately, he couldn't see anything through the envelope in the light. Guess the only way to find out was to open this thing. So, that's exactly what he proceeded to do. He tore off the top of the envelope and reached inside to find...

[Mr. Smith]

...a neatly folded sheet of paper. Upon unfolding it, it uncovered the fact that this letter was actually letterhead; documented meticulously tyoed and printed and courtesy of the Smith Financial Group. And it said:

Mr. Taylor,

You are cordially invited to meet with Mr. Smith to discuss a potential business endeavor. If you are interested, please arrive at the Smith Financial Building on Monday at 9:00 AM sharp.

We hope to see you there.

SFG

[Kenji Katana]

Heh, so it's not a bomb.

He could only hope. Well, it was a peice of paper, what was on it, he didn't know. He didn't expect to see 187 in this bar, but fuck it he might-as-well let his presence be known.

He stands up, and walks out of the bar, passing right by 187. He stops to read the note, and sees the word "Smith" before saying

You didn't get enough of him when he caved your head in did you?

Before leaving the bar.

[Tha Nightmare 187]

"Eh... Fuckin' Dragon Boy... I think that dude might have some kind of stalker obsession with me."

...He said, in response to Katana making his presence known. He was glad that nuisance was gone from this bar. Was he surprised that Katana was here? No. He knew the bastard was there. He always knew that the bastard was there. He's been through this before. He knows when eyes are on him and he knows when people follow him. You think he didn't notice the guy with the big fucking dragon tattoo on his face? Was that supposed to be inconspicuous or something? Katana was going to need to learn a thing or two about subtly because this fake ass ninja shit was really getting old. The bartender responds to 187's words...

Bartender: "Did you know he was there?"

"Trust me. He thinks he's sneaky. I knew. I've been followed before. I'm no rookie to this mind games bullshit he thinks he's pulling. *sigh...* He reaaally doesn't know who he's fuckin' with."

Bartender: "Just make sure to keep it out of my bar. 'Kay?"

"No problem."

He folded the letter he had recieved from Smith and shoved it into his pants pocket. It seemed that there was a meeting that he was expected to show up to. What to do? What to do? Will it be an interesting night out with an enemy? Or is it going to be a trap? Or will it be an interesting trap? He cracked a smirk. Who was he to disappoint an enemy who was reaching out to him? He reached forward and grabbed his glass of Hennessy and finished it off. While he was finishing his drink, the bartender was curious about the whole thing that she just witnessed...

Bartender: "So, what's the letter say?"

"Some bullshit prank being pulled by my co-workers about some junk I might find interesting back at my apartment. Probably some stripper in a cake to celebrate something. I don't know."

...He said, not giving the truthful answer. What? Should he air out his business for anyone to hear? You think he doesn't notice the other guys with dragon tattoos on their face Katana left behind in the bar? When you're trying to be sneaky, it would be best to not have some distinguishing feature right on you fucking face. It's like a big sign pointing to themselves saying, 'Here I am. I'm the guy you're looking for.' He stood up from his stool and reached into his opposite pocket. Then he dropped the money he needed to pay for his drink and nodded to the bartender.

"Thanks for the drink. I'll be heading out now. Catch ya later."

He nodded to the bartender and walked out of the bar. 187 wondered what exactly Smith wanted to meet with him for. It was probably going to be some annoying preachy speech about morals and urban youth and how much for America he was and all that other bullshit he spews in front of the camera. Was he scared? Nah. Not at all. He was actually looking forward to this meeting with Smith. If things get ugly, well... He'd have no problem breaking anyone who dared get in his way. Monday couldn't get here any sooner.