"Thank you." He wrote down and took another sip of scotch. "We need to find more murders. Those portals are dangerous, giving access to the Dream World is bad. Exit is worse, we need to stop The Cult." He drank down the shot and poured another. "We need to find targets and keep an eye on them. Does bartender know of any easy targets?" He grimaced at his wording. The Cult didn't even care who they targeted, but they need base points. "Women and children preferably." He drank the shot to get the bad taste of the talk out of his mouth. Suddenly he felt funny and he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Why did he yawn? He looked at his hand and watched it blur then refocus. Oh dear... he must've drank too much. Gotten too happy with the opportunity to drink he over-indulged. He had to get back home. However each letter became more and more intelligible as he wrote his good bye. "I need to go back-" the k trailing off the page as he turned and stumbled out of his seat and tried to shuffle to the backdoor, using the counter as a support rail.

Gaius thanked the bartender, made sure to slam enough money to cover his drink on the counter before the first shot. He downed one and the other. Instantly intoxicated by the high proof drink, he shouted some gibberish in Latin and walked towards Seven, making a large commotion.

Even in his drunken state, he was able to get his message across. "Lead, the guy with the revolver... shot the knife lady... He, he... In other news... W-we have to... go move on. Whoever k-k-killed those people... and opened th-th-the portal probably know who we are. If we don't go some... where soon, this town may be p-put into d-danger." He then slammed himself onto a nearby seat and worked on overclocking his metabolism in an attempt to get less drunk and avoid having to go to the hospital.

He leaned heavily against the wooden counter, the scenery in front of him blurring again. He blinked several times trying to refocus and stood back up. The blanket fell off him and he leaned down to grab it, and the shift of weight sent him stumbling forward and he regained his composure, standing up as stiff as rod as he gripped the blanket in his hands. He placed the heavy wool blanket onto the counter in a jumbled heap and stepped forward again, trying to make his way to the door. He reached it after what felt like an eternity and placed his hand on the handle. He turned to wave his good byes to Chell but as the scenery shifted instead of stopping, it kept on shifting and soon he found himself lying on the floor before he was smothered into darkness into a drunken slumber.

(((OOC: Sav, you should pay more attention to posts. You paid a drink that was on the house [aka for free], you went to Seven inside even though he went outside...put some effort in it)))

Chell noticed Seven leave the pub, but she couldn't bother to care. As Zach began writing down on the notepad she observed carefully each word, but the more she was reading the less attention she was paying. He was a good kid and everything, but frankly he was boring her. She was out for drinking and it would have been nice to forget about the situation just for a couple of hours. But when he started stumbling, she allowed herself a quite devilish smile to grow on her face. She glanced over to Buster, who was watching the scene as well.

"10 bucks he falls before the door." he stated with a grin on his face.

"Deal." she quietly replied.

After he fell (at the door), Buster shook his head in disappoval, Chell pumping her fist on the other side. The man reached into his pocket and handed her a 10 dollar note, which she accepted with pleasure.
"I have to help him up now."

Chell left her beer and scotch glass on the table and walked over to Zach. With a bit of struggle she managed to pull him up and sit him on a chair. After reassuring herself that Zach could not fall from the chair she walked back to the counter and continued her drinking. Buster observed her walk back.

"Are you gonna leave him there?"

"I'll drag him upstairs later."

"Okay, kid."

Quote from DelorMaximus

(((OOC: Sav, you should pay more attention to posts. You paid a drink that was on the house [aka for free], you went to Seven inside even though he went outside...put some effort in it)))

Sorry, I'll fix it when I get a chance. I've been really busy.

OOC: fuck.
Edit: Wait, Do i still have a chance of living, Veir?

Quote from Ipman

OOC: fuck.
Edit: Wait, Do i still have a chance of living, Veir?

OOC: You're still alive until my next main post. Unless you do something about it.

(((OOC: Bumping it up, maybe somebody will post anything)))

Chell continued her chitchat with Buster while sipping on various alcoholic drinks. Even with her tolerance, she was staring to feel a little tipsy, but not enough to stop drinking. She glanced around the bar: most of the people had left, only the more nocturnal customers still sitting at their respective tables. The odd Latin man was sitting on the far side of the counter, sipping on his Balkan vodka and muttering some strange words. Chell had remembered who the man was, but she didn't know his name. The fact that he was in the Dream world was enough information. Her eyes kept scanning, eventually falling on the sleeping Zach.

"I guess I'll carry him upstairs." She said sighing, slowly pushing herself off the counter and onto her feet. Buster tried taking her empty glass of scotch from the counter, but Chell snapped, grabbing his hand.

"I want that filled up by the time I come back." a grin growing on her face. Buster limited himself to a smile and a nod.

Chell stepped away from the counter and tossed her rifle on the shoulder. With quick steps she was in front of Zach, whom was sleeping deeply. Chell crouched in front of him, and without any type of warning she slapped him. But no reaction resulted from Zach. Another couple of slaps echoed through the bar. But again, nothing. Chell sighed, putting her head down. After a couple of moments she stood up and grabbed Zach, pulling him up by force from the chair. His balance was inexistent, as he almost fell a moment later, Chell grabbing his arm and ducking under his armpit, holding him erect. He was heavy, but Chell managed to drag him across the bar and to the staircase. She glanced upwards, sighing.

"This is not going to be easy."

With small steps and a lot of effort she began her ascension. She passed next to the second floor, noticing a small kitchen, a cozy living room and a second, smaller bar. Chell continued climbing up, until she reached the third floor. As soon as she went up the last step, her eyes lit up. The rooms had a very gloomy look, but inspired comfort and relax. The first room was the common area, with a small bar on the western wall and a balcony on the eastern one. The center of the room was decorated with 2 couches and 2 armchairs, surrounding a beautiful glass table. Chell did not hesitate a moment to drag Zach to one of those couches and throw him on top of one. She took a deep breath as she placed her hands on her waist.

"We even now." she said before turning around and heading for the stairs. She quickly took her rifle off her shoulder and placed it on the counter of the bar while passing, glancing at the shelves packed with alcoholic drinks. Before going downstairs, she glanced once more towards Zach. He was sleeping deeply, and undoubtfully nothing would have been able to wake him up. Chell's eyes also noticed the pool table in the back end of the second room. She smiled, taking small steps downwards. In a minute she was back down at the bar, sitting in front of Buster and sipping scotch.

"Is the kid okay?" He asked, concerned.

"He'll be fine. He's just drunk." she stated, slightly irritated. She hated to care about people, but that time was a special occasion.

The sleeping figure shuttered and Zach's eyes flickered open. He was still sleepy due to the alcohol and he gazed around unsteadily. Someone had moved him to a differeny room, he personally couldn't remember when he fell asleep, he just remembered trying to walk out. He tried to blink away his sleepiness but the fact he hadn't had a good rest for a long time clung onto him and he looked to see if there was any source of heat and saw a furnace, an iron appliance that stood by itself, a grill the single access point evident on its round body, red hot coals glowed through. A pipe connected the furnace to the roof so that the smoke wouldn't fill the room. The boy slowly dragged himself out of the coach and landed in a heap on the floor, he slowly crawled himself over until he could feel the heat radiating off the furnace. He edged a little closer and then curled up in a ball like a dog, basking in the warm glow as he fell back to sleep, too drunk to dream and the voices too drunk to give him nightmares.

Still sitting idle in the basement, Vitaliy groaned loudly in obvious impatience. Essentially alone, he absolutely hated waiting for anyone or anything, especially when he was physically incapable of doing much else anyway with an inactive leg. However, there was the motivational promise of money, and he was, as per usual, incredibly low on funds.

Deciding to check his wallet, Vitaliy pulled out the new leather casing he had recently "bought" from a kind donor in England a few months before. Normally he would've never been able to afford such a exquisite piece of craftsmanship with his somewhat unreliable budget, but a guy with an extra eye socket in his skull certainly wouldn't find a use for it, right? Besides, he loved counting how much money he had on himself, even if it was never in much abundance anyway.

Opening up the pouch after he clicked off the finely decorated metal fastener on the top, Vitaliy could already tell how empty the container was just by it's weight. Frowning in notice of his technical poverty and unfortunately expensive taste in purchasable goods, he quickly dumped the contents of the wallet onto a dry spot of the basement floor so he could see what he still had available.

Stupid overpriced train tickets...

Counting the spread of a few coins and US paper currency, Vitaliy smiled in mild surprise when he noticed he still had roughly enough cash for a few decent meals at whatever passed for a pub in the town he was situated in.

Well, he was smiling until he found a specific LACK of something quite important.

"No no no no no no no!" Desperately shaking the wallet in both hands before flipping through it's contents several times over in a mad panic, Vitaliy faced the unpleasant situation of finding himself to be without his envelope of fake passports.

SH#T!

Pulling up the wallet next to his face and looking in one more time with overly hopeful disbelief, he still could not spot the passport envelope.

"SH#T!"

Quickly throwing the leather pouch down on his lap in frustration, Vitaliy proceeded to sit in silence for a long moment with his head hung low as his mind swam around in his apparent misfortune.

Finally pulling himself together, Vitaliy stuffed the mixed currency back into his wallet before shoving it back into one of his many hidden inside coat pockets. Grabbing his revolver with his right hand, he slowly reloaded the weapon as he put some thought into his situation.

Alright... so I'm stuck in America. Well, at least until I get myself some more fake IDs... So much for that Transylvania trip... I'm now working for some fancy big shot who also just happens to be in a comatose... There's a tied-up crazy lady with a knife in the corner... some random big guy I don't know that also happens to be comatose... Oh right, I actually don't know any of these people! H#ll, most of them just ran off to get drunk in some American bar without a second thought! And here I was thinking I was the one that normally did that...

Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, Vitaliy retraced his thoughts for a moment as he glanced upwards toward the ceiling.

Well... we did shoot a bunch of nasta' monstas' togetha'... sortof... Heh, I know I did! Huh... Now that I'm thinking about it, I could save a lot of time otherwise spent wasting away doing detective work by hanging around these folks for a while... OH, I almost forgot! I can't use my other leg! Greaaat... just great.

Leaning back into the wall with a smug grin shifting on his face as he finished reloading, Vitaliy resumed his watch on the knife held by the crazy lady, comforting himself in knowing...

"It can't possibly get any worse than this..."