Chameleon's Corruption

5

                No matter what was happening on the outside, not much changed inside the Brazen Vixen. Same food, same drinks and the same customers coming by every night. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, not in the least. In a city that was constantly moving, so prone to conflict and change, some were able to find solstice in its stability. In some ways this dingy little pub represented a much-needed constant in the lives of the animals who became regulars, likely one of the few constants that they had.

"So you think he's gunna come in?" Lars wondered out loud. This was probably the third time he'd asked that very same question since they'd taken seat at their table, the suspense was doing a number on him. At least twenty four hours had passed since the bounty was placed on this murderous canine's head and the two Powlaskis spent the majority of that time plotting out what they intended on doing next. As always, Lars was the more animated of the pair. $10,000 was a lot of money to be in discussions with, far more than he'd ever seen in his life and if this all played right it had fallen right into their laps. Leon on the other hand was trying to stay enigmatic, preferring to let his brother take the reins for now.

"If he was injured like we were told..." Leon replied, recalling what the shaken yote had gone over. "Then he very well might be someplace else, I don't think I'd have much time for drinking after taking a shot to the arm. But who knows, maybe he's stubborn."

"Well let's try to stay optimistic." Their financial troubles were still at the forefront of their problems but whenever they'd come around here Lars would still try and pick up a pint of whatever was cheapest on tap. Keeping on the owner's good side was imperative since it gave him a reason to not kick them out for loitering, not to mention damaging the table. He put the rim to his thin, reptilian lips and took an anxious sip. "We need to like, come up with some kind of sign you can use to tell me what you think while you're talking to him. Like if he's the right guy or not." Leon nodded in agreement, that actually wasn't a bad idea. When they set out to do this he knew it'd have to get done right so when the question arose of which one the two would do the talking, he immediately volunteered. The only uncertainty now was how 'on-script' he intended to be. Leon had some thoughts of his own that had been eating away at him.

It was a strange feeling but ever since walking in on that gruesome scene in the loading bay yesterday afternoon Leon hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. Every minute detail stayed fresh in his memory; the sights, the smells... What he'd seen was nothing short of repulsive but at the same time it was absolutely captivating, much more now that he knew that one man had managed to do it without help. The younger chameleon had been around crime his entire life but it never elevated far above anything petty - believe it or not this was his first direct, in-person experience with something as serious as murder and his mind couldn't help but romanticize it in a way. Not normally one with a penchant for raw violence, the dream he'd experienced last night where he was the gunman was surprising even to him. Not even his tricky escape from the loss prevention officer a few days back could compare to the level of excitement that dream caused.

"How about this; when I've got a bead on him I'll let you know by holding up two fingers for 'yes' and three for 'no'." He raised a hand, palm still wrapped in bandage tape. Two fingers and then three were held up, demonstrating both of the signs he intended on signaling with. "Simple and effective, does that work?"

"Sure, easy enough. I just want you to cross those fingers for now though, because we've got to hope that he shows his face at all."

Observant as he was, Leon already knew the general span of time that this particular canine chose to drop by and he seemed to stay fairly regular – normally coming through the door around three in the afternoon, give or take a few minutes. Today, however, 3:00pm came and went without hide nor hair of the devious animal. Ten minutes late stretched into thirty which stretched into a long hour of waiting, Lars's beer glass was drank down to the last few drops and both of them were starting to feel antsy. Every time the door opened they jumped to attention but it was never who they wanted it to be. The last few glimmers of hope were fading with each false start but right before they'd decided to throw in the towel, their patience was heartily rewarded. Once more the door swung open and this time, a pair of heavy boots clunked onto the hardwood floorboards. There he was, adorned with the usual long black jacket with a messy, bluish-grey tail poking out from between the coattails. The left side of his head had an eye patch prominently strapped over it and two pointy canine ears stood above it all, completing the profile. At the very least, he fit the descriptors to a T.