CHAPTER 1: Motley Crew

Many bars in Renard were high-class establishments �" given the fact that they tended to only be near the center of the island, and being closer to the center meant richer customers, as being closer to the Tide’s headquarters. However, most people lived on the outskirts, working on farms, or in factories. In a way Renard had places that seemed to belong more to the past that one would think, considering it was 2284. However, since most people didn’t want to travel all the way to the center for a drink, nor could they afford the drinks there, many bars and taverns were set up on the outskirts. Given they were further from the Tide, security was practically nonexistent, and that’s how the customers preferred it. Especially since, for one bar in particular, over half the customers were powered.

                This bar was named De Occultis, an old-world looking building, with a classic pub sign hanging outside depicting a man emerging from a shadow with a beer mug in hand. Inside, it wasn’t too horrible. The chairs and tables were fashioned to fit with the old-world theme, looking rustic and worn. The bar itself was surprisingly well stocked with quality drinks, considering that it was outside the “wealthy ring” of Renard. However, the main way the owner could afford such fine drinks was because he had a bit of a monopoly on his customers �" hardly any place would take the risk of powered customers, which meant if they wanted some booze, they had to go to De Occultis. Normals paid standard rates, but powereds had much steeper prices. For many that had enjoyed success in their respected field, money wasn’t an issue, and the owner always welcomed them back.

                The bar room was fairly dim, since if there was ever a raid, faces would be harder to see and remember. There had been sweeps by the Tide before, with shots fired. Older customers knew where the holes were �" one only had to look at where the posters tended to be grouped. But the seats were decently comfortable, the rooms affordable, and the drinks strong enough to make one forget the whole day. Or, at least for most, the drinks were strong enough.

                At the bar sat two women �" one with brilliant red hair, khaki pants, simple sneakers, a strangely angled jacket with a white tank top underneath, and her head resting on the bar. Various empty glasses surrounded her, indicating she’d been drinking quite heavily. Every now and then as she lightly snored, a spark of red electricity would flit across her hair, or between her fingers. Next to her, the other woman sat, sipping from a glass. Her hair was almost an absolute black, matching the color of her coat. She wore a purple long-sleeve shirt underneath her coat, with worn blue jeans and her boots resting on the bottom of the bar. As she set the glass back down on the bar, she glanced at the woman snoring next to her. She chuckled as the snoring continued, until she caught her own eye in the reflective glass the liquor sat in front of and sighed. While the sleeping woman could easily hide among the normals, she had no hope �" with her red on black eyes and an eight-pointed black starburst on her right eye that shifted with her emotions. For some, it was not that easy to just blend in when arriving into Renard. Most could just take off a costume; teach themselves not to use their powers, yet for her, that was not enough.

                The bartender worked his way to the two women, attempting to clear away their collection of bottles and glasses. The more sober of the two ordered another drink.

                “Miss, I’ve lost track of how many you’ve had, maybe I should cut you off …” he began.

                “Look, I could down fifty and still be as sober as ever. Do you want my money or not?” the woman replied, sounding annoyed. She looked over at the red head. “Anything for you Statik?” A sleepy murmur escaped from under the red hair, followed by light snoring. “I think it’s time she, however, only gets water.”

                After the bartender ambled off to get the drinks, the red head slowly sat up. Rubbing her eyes, she leaned against the bar, “How on earth do you do that?”

                The other woman turned to the red head. “Do what, my dear drunken Statik?”

                Statik slurred as she spoke, waving her hands at the glasses still left on the bar. “You drink like … twenty beers … and you sit there as fine as can be! I do it … and hate myself in the morning.”

                The woman lifted the glass the barkeep brought for her and smileed. “Just one of those things I guess.”

                “You really know how to give such bullshit answers, don’t you?” Statik held her head in her hands as she watched the other women down yet another glass. “If you don’t get drunk, why bother?” The woman added the empty glass to the pile.

                “The water tastes horrible, the soda is flat, and since you have this habit of getting whatever I drink, it’s amusing to see you drunk. Honestly, I don’t know why you always try to out drink me.”

                “Maybe someday I’ll manage to out drink the great Crew Leader.”

                Crew smirked. “You have got such a long way to go.”

                Statik took a sip of the water Crew ordered for her, making a face at the taste. “You weren’t kidding about the taste.” She put the glass down and pushed it away. “So, how long are we staying here?”

                “Depends on what happens first: either I run out of money, they run out of booze, or this place gets busted. That’s how long. You ask everyday �" if you dislike it so much, you’re free to leave.”

                Statik got a panicked look on her face. “No! No �" just curious is all.” She sighed, looking down at the murky water in her glass. “Just … gets really boring here. I miss the excitement of the Isles.”

                Crew ran a finger along the rim of her glass. “You didn’t have to come here. You could have led the crew in my stead. I’m sure you would have had many supporters, considering my behavior, there at the end.”

                “Yeah, but,” Statik shrugged, “I’m not a leader. I’d rather be in the streets, punching things.”

                A smile grew on Crew’s face. “Somehow I’m not surprised at all.”

                Statik glared at Crew, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

                Crew looked away, acting innocent, “Oh, nothing.” Statik groaned. Crew sighed as well after a moment. “Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve done as I did. Other times, I think I should have done it sooner. But if I keep thinking about the past �" the should’ve-could’ve-would’ve … I’d never get anywhere.”

                “Sounds like something to drink to,” Statik announced, as she held her glass of water in the air. Crew smiled and lifted her own drink. They clinked glasses and drank deeply. When they stopped, Statik was coughing heavily from the disgusting taste of the water as Crew laughed. Between coughs, Statik managed to say, “Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so’!”

 

Author's Note

Please, if you haven't, click on the little image for this chapter -- each chapter has their own unique cover art done by me. Also, please let me know what you think so far, I'd love for any comments, even negative, else how will I learn anything ?