Nightowls meet up!

===> COH <===> 4/3/2020, 9:23:56 AM <===
Nightowl - Bar

	The interior of the bar is essentially a long rectangle of a building with the bar down one side and booths down the other with pool tables and bathrooms in the back. The black and white tiles of the floor make the space look somewhat larger than it might be in reality. The ceiling has been painted flat black to create the illusion that it's a taller - disguising the duct work and electrical cabling. The bar's lighting is typical for the industry with neon spotted here and there.
	The walls of the bar are decorated with nearly every type, style and shape of road sign imagined. License plates, white construction signs, red stop signs, green road signs, and yellow yields give some much-needed color in an otherwise black and white canvas. All of the furniture is a mix of aluminum and black leather that's easily cleaned and maintained.

	<<Places and +Details>>


	(This room needs a Wraith desc. @mail building staff if you want to provide one.)

Contents:
Rawlins

	*** Nightzone ***

Obvious Exits:
  Back Room <BR>   Out <O>

Midnight or thereabouts and Nightowl is full of its usuals. One scruffy-faced, college-aged kid is absently sitting at at the bar talking with Billy the bartender about great and ponderous thoughts.

	Cen makes his way inside, looking down at a scrap of paper held in one hand. An eyebrow arches and then he slowly makes his way towards the bar. The kid looks old enough to drink, just barely.

	Spying Rawlins, Cen smiles a bit. "Hey man, we met in Laughlin, right? At that German joint? This one of your hangouts? You got a sec to chat, private-like?"

Rawlins glances over to the guy and takes a faint sniff as though he were using his senses to help confirm the man's identity. "Hey...yeah. How's it going?" he asks and temporarily breaks away from the conversation with the bartender. "Didn't know you were over in these parts."

	Cen smiles, "Laughlin's nice but the place just ain't me, y'know?" He looks around, then draws in a little closer. "I'm opening up a spot and dropping anchor in Chula Vista."

Rawlins hrms, "Down in Chula, yeah?" He nods at the man's drive and lets his eyes sweep over him as an after thought of sorts - like he was wondering if the guy knows what he's getting himself into. "Gonna be a...bar?" he asks with a polite edge of curiosity.

	Cen shakes his head, "Nah, man, I don't got that kinda scratch. Just setting out a small shingle to make some coin with the skills I got. But I'll open up the back as a temporary crashpad and meeting spot."
Rawlins nods, "You wanna check out the card table downstairs? Billy don't need to hear about our gambling addictions." He smiles and shoots the bartender a glance and then pushes himself up from his seat.

	Cen offers a nod, "Sure thing, lead the way."

Rawlins heads into the back room
Rawlins has left.
You head into the back room.
Rawlins heads down into the basement.
Rawlins has left.
You head down into the basement.
Nightowl - Basement(#17624RAaMU)

	 As you finish your walk down the steps you enter the first of three connected bays that make up the basement. If the upstairs of the building was the last to be touched by the renovator's brush, the basement has all but been ignored. The brick walls of the building extends into the basement and with the concrete floor create a cool space for long-term storage of the goods needed to run the bar above. There's no tile on the floors, nor painted ceilings but the rafters and electrical work has been covered with drywall to at least give the space a semi-finished look.
	Insulation has been positioned to deaden the sounds from the bar above or to keep whatever sounds that might eminate down here from reaching through the floor to the clients upstairs. Hanging industrial lights can flood the room with the stale light of flourescent bulbs that run down the center of the long, rectangular room.The back wall, towards the front of the bar, is blocked by cement blocks and a metal security door with a red sign on it marked "Utility".

	<<Places and +Details>>

	(This room needs a Wraith desc. @mail building staff if you want to provide one.)

Contents:
Rawlins

	*** Nightzone ***

Obvious Exits:
  Upstairs <UP>

	Cen follows along, looking around as he makes his way down the rabbit hole. A low whistle ensure, "Man, nice digs." Literally!

Rawlins walks over and takes a seat at the card table, "It seemed like no one would blink if I got this place set up as an underground gambling den. Then all of our semi-secret conversations, the need for a hidden safe room and all that makes perfect sense."

	Another nod from Cen. "Yeah, it's all pretty clever."

	Cen looks over a shoulder, and mutters something. To himself?
Ceniza mutters to himself, "... man...."
You mutter to yourself, "We're cool, man. We're cool. Ran into this guy in Laughlin."

Rawlins points to the guy and then to whatever might be behind him with a confused mask on his face, "Ok...so what the -hell- is up with that bro? I mean...I'm picking up some weird ass shit from you. Not necessarily bad stuff just...uh...confusing."

	Cen looks back to Rawlins. "Just making sure my pal is chill, is all. I got a friend, on the Other Side of things. He looks out for me, I keep things interesting for him."

The fuzzy guy just sort of blinks in answer to that revelation. "Wait...like..." and he can't help but look around nervously, "...ghosts?"

	Cen gives a slow smile. Nope, the kid DOESN'T have any fangs. "Yeah, man. The restless dead. Les mysteres. I got ju-ju with'em, on account I come from Samedi folk, y'know?"

If the news of ghosts was a bit startling, the word...THAT word pulls Rawlins out of his seat and a few steps backwards, "Holy shit! Samedi? Bro...you're people are -totally- cool here. Ok? Don't like...haunt me or nothing."

	Cen laughs and nods, putting his hands up, "Chill, man, chill. I'm looking for friends, not enemies. No one is free until we are all free, right?"

Rawlins ain't exactly relaxing his pensive stance but he's not popped fangs or claws yet either. In that happy middle ground where he's just trying to figure out what's going on, the scruffy-faced gangrel asks, "Wait...you part of the movement?"

	"Well, 'm not dead ... yet, so yeah, I guess I am. Like the saying goes - head west, young man!, right? So here I am, having headed west, to scope out the pieces and see how I can help put stuff back together." Said Cen.

And more confusion poured ontop of more confusion..."Not...dead?" he sniffs again and perks his ears to listen for a heart beat. "Wait...you're someone's ghoul?" He relaxes at the possibility and that only partially starts to explain what he must have been picking up on. "You're master coming soon?"

	Cen frowns, then shakes his head, "No man, I'm no one's ghoul. Like I said, I come from Samedi folk. Literally." A bittersweet smile. "These are the end times, brother. End times. I'm no ghoul," he pauses. (THAT'S NO MOON!) "I'm, ah. I guess some folks have taken to calling us dhampirs." (IT'S A SPACE STATION!)

Confusion washes over the gangrel's features as he hers the strange word. It takes him a few seconds before he can make the connection in his memories and then the realization starts to sink in. "Whoa...never thought I'd see a half-blood bro. That's like...wait. Can you folks -really- walk out in the sun?"

	"Yeah, man. 'm one of the thin-bloods. One o' the no-fangs? A daywalker?" He eyes Rawlins thoughtfully. "Doesn't mean I like the sunshine, mind you. But yeah, I don't turn to ash." A mischievous grin, "Unless I wanna, I mean." Said Cen.

That little bit of info just rocks Rawlins back onto his heels, "That's just..." he fails to find the words to express his feelings but a grin starts to crawl over his face. "Bro...that's seriously cool. Not gonna lie."

	A small nod from Cen, "We need every advantage we can get over the Tower and the Sword, right?" A shrug. "Not that I'm in any shape to mix it up with anyone just yet. But soon's I get my mojo leveled up? Then maybe we can have some fun."

Rawlins nods, "My sire called us the Storm. May just be thunder on the horizon for a while but eventually - we gonna rock the heavens bro." He takes a step forward to the guy and extends his hand in the first, genuine offer of welcome.

	Cen reaches out and takes the offered hand, giving a firm shake. "Thanks, man. And like I said, once I get my spot set up in CV, you and anyone else in the group is welcome to have emergecy crashspace or whatevs."

Rawlins nods, "Same to you bro - but I got a feeling that you'd be the only one down here sending out for pizza."

	Cen laughs, "I'm partial to fish tacos, baja style, but yeah, if you know where to find good pizza, I'm all for it." He looks over a shoulder and mutters to his unseen friend in a foreign language (Swahili) then looks back to Rawlins. "Once I get to know the local underground scene, 'm happy to ask a favor and get one of les mysteres to post up watch outside, if you wanted?"

Rawlins peers curiously at what or who the guy is talking to and shrugs at the offer, "Uh...sure. Right now it's just the bar staff keeping people out of the...gambling den down here. So yeah, any help would be great."

	"Les mysteres - ghosts - they can sometimes spot things that mortal eyes cannot see." A smile, "Speaking of which? I'm working on my own little trick too - once I get it down, I'm happy to keep tabs to see which capes come in and out of our spots, and start keepin' track?" Cen pauses, "If that'd be helpful, I mean."

Rawlins nods, "Hell yeah. I mean, I can usually pick them up by smell but I gotta get -real- close for that - or get them alone to listen for a heart beat. Beyond that it's all just a toss up. And that'd get us burned out real fast."

	Cen nods, "Once I get my trick down, I can spot on sight, regardless o' whatever ju-ju folks will have up and running. But secondary checks and confirms never hurt and are just best practice. We can't all be in every spot at once, but we can begin making our map and stuff."

Rawlins nods, "Yeah...sounds like it'd be really handy. I mean...we got so many people running around between Prospect and Laughlin - who's to say what's going on. Hell, I heard that they sent a ghoul strapped with explosives into one of our safe houses down in Texas. Before anyone could pick up on the smell he hit the switch and took out a dozen of us."

	Cen arches an eyebrow. "Ouch. Well, let's all do our best here to stay sharp and keep our lives, yeh?" A grin. "I'll let you know when my shop opens up in CV. I'ma be downtown."

Rawlins pulls out his cellphone and offers his number to the half-blood so that he can be reached should the need arise. "Code 777 for help, 999 for trouble, and 555 to meet. S'what I was taught at least."

	Cen nods, then hands over his own info. "I keep a 7-11 burner, and swap out regularly, but will keep you posted as my number changes."

Rawlins nods "Yeah, same here. I used to be able to get those things by the bag full but after that attack a few years back the stores get real twitchy when you try doing anything in bulk." He grumbles a bit at the life of a non-wealthy vamp. "Not like we got dozens of people helping us out during the d..." his eyes flash to the day-walker and he can't help but smile, "...day."

	Cen nods, "Yeah, man. You need anything done during sunshine hours, lemme know and I'll do my best." He looks over a shoulder, and mutters in Swahili, then looks back to Rawlins, "I gotta split. But let's keep in touch and continue to build."

Rawlins nods to the guy and walks him up, "Phones are always handy. Keep your eye out for cheap ones." He takes the lead up.

	Cen nods "Burners. Got it. Will do." And then the youth departs for other errands this evening.
===> Log ended by user <===> 4/3/2020, 10:59:14 AM <===