Strings Of Fate

Chapter 81 PT 1: Maybe we're all a little sinful

As Angel opened his eyes, he gasped at the sight. A bar; naturally that was expected. It held wood and red accents. They were seated in one of the many booths along the far wall. Round tables took up the majority of the bar's interior floor. People seated at them happily partaking in alcohol and food. On the back left wall lay a stage. On said stage was a live band playing an upbeat jazz song. Loud enough to be heard but not irritable.

The actual bar was to the right of them on that wall. A few patrons seated themselves there, some attempting to get the attention of others. While the remainder simply enjoyed the music and drinks. There weren't many of those local whores, he noticed. Only one or two out of the crowd of people here; definitely a change from the usual bars he was used to.

"Wow..." Angel muttered in amazement. The current song had a strong trumpet playing at the lead, along with the subtle sounds of drums lingering in the back. It didn't feel like it belonged in New York. No, it was something that wasn't exactly New York's style. This felt different, as if it had been plucked from somewhere else.

As if reading his mind, Alastor answered, "it's not like New York. No. But that's why I enjoy it here, I suppose." He smiled softly and Angel noticed it.

"Gonna be real, didn' expect 'cha to take me to a place like dis." He shook his head with a smile of his own, "knowin' you, I shoulda' though."

"Yes, quite the step up from the bar we made that wager at." Alastor was already humming along to the latest song. Something told Angel this wasn't the first time Alastor had been here. Not by the way he tapped his fingers along the table's hardwood, or tapped his foot to the base. He took a moment to admire the band this evening and their music. "I hope you like it here." He then said, turning his gaze on his partner, who was also admiring the interior and music.

"I do actually." He agreed, swaying his head gently to the song. "Don't get me wrong, I still love da drugs an' sex of da city. 'Specially when a good ol' bar fight breaks out. Those are fun..." He chuckled. "But ain't nothin' wrong with havin' a little fun in a more relaxin' way."

"That we can agree on." Alastor grabbed the blindfold off the table. Tucking it into his vest and sitting down opposite of Angel, he added, "despite the refined appearance this place possesses, their food is still that of New York's bars. That I can assure you."

Angel laughed in amusement at the expression of disgust on Alastor's face. "Still ain't a fan a' da food 'ere?" He allowed the music to relax his tense shoulders, leaning into the booth's cushiony surface. Ooh, comfy.

Alastor leaned forward on the table. "Not all of it is dreadful." He offered. "In fact, I believe some of the food here is actually good. However, that's debatable on where it's taken from."

Angel hummed, thinking. "Y'know, I dink I got an idea for 'ya." Alastor tilted his head in curiosity. "Do they sell fries 'ere?"

"From my understanding, yes." Alastor waved his hand in the air, getting the attention of one of the wandering waitresses. Within a minute or two, she noticed and walked over.

"Good evening gentlemen." She greeted them tiredly. She set down two menus she'd been carrying around among the stack in her arms. "What kinda' drinks can I get for you two tonight? Unless you need a minute to decide."

Angel glanced down at the menu in his hands, eyeing the different selection of drinks to choose from.

Without looking at the menu, Alastor set it down. "A shot of whiskey, dear." He answered as if it were routine.

The waitress nodded, taking his menu back. She patiently waited while Angel decided, still looking over the drinks. "Hm..New York lemonade for me, doll." He finally settled on, handing the menu back to her with a smile. He was grateful that at least this girl wasn't trying to hit on Alastor. But to be fair she looked too tired to even care.