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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 11, 2012 17:43:06 GMT -5
M7W2D7, at a dive bar, mention of looking for information on 'Bane Crusher' done with permission, open
Sharon has done her hair differently, more ragged and mussed than her usual careful coif, and her clothing verges on raggy. The way she moves is casual and nonchalant. This life that she has inherited apparently involves crime-fighting, and so she has vague memories of slumming to talk to informants in her pursuit of justice. Right now, it is very unlikely that anyone would recognise her as Sharon Zaman.
Right now, she's at a dive bar, looking to find an informant she remembers from before who might have some information on a 'Bane Crusher', because... really? Really? (Sharon gives thanks every day when Primus makes her enemies stupid.)
Sharon looks around the bar in perfunctory fashion, not too intently, and then she sidles over to the bar itself, for a seat at the end where she can watch the exits. It doesn't look like her informant here yet, if the informant is even going to show. She might pick up something interesting, anyway. She doesn't even look for a menu, not that there are any to be found. Sharon just orders what she did last time she was here, her voice low.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 11, 2012 18:42:26 GMT -5
Someone is occupying the seat next to the one Sharon settles herself down on, but it is certainly not her informant. A short and stocky redhead in grays and yellows, blue bandanna tied around her neck, her shoulders slumped as she hangs over the counter, nursing a mug of beer, one hand prepped up to support her head. Cold blue eyes shift to regard Sharon as she sits herself down, eyes squinting briefly, before she looks back down at her drink. She stays silent for a moment, and then, in a soft, but gruff voice, she speaks.
"First time I've seen a woman with yer number o'decades come 'n here."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 11, 2012 18:56:29 GMT -5
Sharon does a double-take when she looks at the short woman. Those bright blue eyes with those dark, almost black circles around them, that build, that... lack of height, those colours, if she pulled up the bandana to mask her face...
No, that would be ridiculous, Sharon thinks firmly to herself. She's just missing her Wreckers, that is all.
"Been here before," Sharon replies, and according to her false memories this is true, albeit infrequently. It would be easy to miss her.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 11, 2012 19:03:29 GMT -5
"Not often, then. Musta missed each other." The woman replies, or rather grunts back in response. Then, she falls silent again, finding her drink much more interesting, gloved fingers tapping away at the glass. But curiously she does not actually bother to drink from it.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 11, 2012 19:13:21 GMT -5
Sharon gets her beer and takes a swig without wincing. So the little woman is here often. Doesn't mean she drinks often, though, Sharon observes.
There are a lot of people in the bar. There's a few playing pool - not as well as Impactor does, Sharon thinks, but then, Impactor's... special, in a lot of ways, especially when it comes to whacking things with sticks. Some are talking. Some are quiet, on the verge of passing out in their cups.
She could easily imagine Whirl and Roadbuster and Twin Twist in a corner, about sloshed enough to pick a fight if they saw the right cause, but imagining won't do her any good.
"You're here often enough, then... Hmm." Asking cannot hurt. "You see anyone here who looks like [description]?"
The person described has been around but not yet today.
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Mar 11, 2012 19:27:56 GMT -5
A tall, brown, heavily scarred man bearing a duffel bag under one arm enters the bar, scans the room, and takes the seat on the other side of Sharon. He doesn't know her, but it's the only free seat on the side of the bar that lets the occupant keep an eye on the doors.
He clears his throat to gain the bartender's attention and orders a cheap beer. "Don't you go starting anything this time, Dan," the bartender warns.
"I didn't start it, I just finished it," the brown man growls back. Sharon may find his voice familiar.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 11, 2012 19:28:05 GMT -5
The redhead does not reply in words, merely another acknowledging grunt. Not a woman of many words to say the least. Finally, she lifts her mug just as Sharon asks her question. She does not reply immediately, and instead downs the entire mug of beer, which was filled to the brim when she was still staring at it, in one go. She slams it back down, wipes away some spilled beer that ran past her lips with the back of her hand and orders another before she turns to Sharon again. "Yeah, I know 'em. Didn't see 'em yet. Usually comes in around this time, though."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 11, 2012 19:45:06 GMT -5
Dan's voice does ping on Sharon, and that makes her sit up slightly straighter. Okay, so Sharon might well fantasise about Wreckers, she is not liable to fantasise about Dinobot, no offense. She looks at him more closely out of the corner of her eye.
She listen to what the woman has to say. Primus, if that informant is dead and rotting in some gutter now, Sharon is going to be annoyed. She will have to watch the police reports even more closely. Sharon also watches how the women takes that whole beer in one go.
A decision is made in her head, and she says, not exactly to anyone in particular, though either Dan or the woman could certainly hear her, sitting as they are, "Damn. I was hoping he'd have something for me on Bane Crusher."
Normally, that would be a stupid thing to say. It still might be a stupid thing to say. Sharon is about to find out!
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Mar 12, 2012 20:36:52 GMT -5
"Bane Crusher?" Dan echoes, turning on his barstool to look at Sharon. "What are you, a professional wrestling fan?" he asks, glancing down at the floor to make sure his duffel is still where he put it down.
His beer arrives and he takes a swig.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 12, 2012 20:41:05 GMT -5
When Gertrude hears the man speak up, she lets her eye wander over to him, and a thick red eyebrow soon lifts up in interest. Now there's someone who she'd love to get into a bar fight with. She'll have to buy him a drink to get him nice and drunk, then sling a few insults his way to get him angry.
Then her gaze shifts to Sharon as she mentions Bane. "That ol' mug faced ass? Why the heck do you want to know about him? No offense lady, but you look a bit too frail to tango with that ol' hunk o'nasty."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 13, 2012 11:04:11 GMT -5
Sharon snorts, most unlady-like, "No," and has a drink of her tepid beer. Sharon adds, matter of fact, her eyes twinkling, "I can handle myself, though your concern is touching."
She looks at the short woman again. That's... The Judge, isn't she? C-list vigilante who could spawn an action movie or two with her adventures, if only Hollywood would be willing to make a movie about a short woman. The Judge is also the name of Guzzle's favourite gun, as Sharon recalls.
"Just, does... 'Guzzle' mean anything to you?"
Sharon will know how to proceed, depending on how she answers.
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Mar 14, 2012 21:14:32 GMT -5
Dan has a feeling a part of the conversation is going over his head. "Hm. 'Super-villain,' then?" he asks, putting his beer down on the bar to make air quotes with both hands. "Dare I ask why you're interested?"
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 15, 2012 21:22:59 GMT -5
The little bit of friendliness she has melts like snow in the middle of a desert. The look she levels on Sharon is one of extreme distrust, bordering on paranoia. The hand not clutching the glass drops down and into a pocket on her hip, reaching deep into her baggy pants. "Yea'. Ol' nickname durin' the war. Way back. Not a lot of people who knew that." The ones who did are dead. So who is this and how the hell does she know about that?
If things get any more confusing, Gertrude may finally indulge her trigger finger. It's been itching something fierce ever since that mess with Elsa.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Mar 15, 2012 21:58:05 GMT -5
"I don't know, dare you?" Sharon replies to Dan, rolling her eyes.
She quickly surmises that she has found Guzzle. Unfortunately, Gertrude might be going for a gun there, which would put a crimp in Sharon's immediate plans.
However, her informant has arrived. He pauses by the jukebox and feeds it a quarter or two, and then, he wanders off to a booth.
Sharon does not join him immediately. She waits for the song to change, and then she moves off to join him in the booth.
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Dinobot
Minor
Death Before Dishonor
Posts: 302
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Post by Dinobot on Mar 16, 2012 20:01:49 GMT -5
Dan shoots Sharon a look that speaks unprintable volumes when she snarks at him, lip curling up in an incisor-baring snarl. His attention is diverted instantly to Gertrude when she reaches into her pocket. His foot surreptitiously snakes through the strap on the duffel bag at the base of his barstool.
"If you're looking to make trouble, take it somewhere else," he growls, looking the short woman straight in the eye, "We have enough of it around here already."
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