red pill blue pill ♔ milk of amnesia

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ She's Hearing Voices ; Bloc Party

WHO || Desmond Descant, various.
WHAT || Des takes the red pill
WHERE || Des' motel room.
WHEN || Thurs, Feb 16, evening.
HOW || Actionspam.

[A week or more of incredibly frustrating dead ends had led to one obvious conclusion: the clearest way to illuminate what was going on at this club Nightscape would be for Des to actually check it out for himself.

And so he faces this Matrix moment, just him and a pill and a glass of water. :') ]

Comments

[supremacist]

[Well, even closer it's still loud as fuck in here so what Des gets is going to just be bits and pieces of words. Luckily he seems to get the important ones. Even more luckily, neither of the men turn around to really pay attention to his less-than-stellar zombie impression.

The one with the umbrella drink and the up-to-no-good expression leans back casually in his chair. The other guy has the distinct flavor of lackey about him.

And guess what the very first word Des catches is? Yep.]

... eternal jade will have to be collected, then. [BACKGROUND NOISE BACKGROUND NOISE] arrange for assistance... [UNTZ UNTZ UNTZ] and make the exchange.

[nothingsodivine]

[Des has to avoid dancing towards the table to hear better, but he heard what he needed to. Just not what it has to do with the chick on stage... It's still enough to set his teeth on edge.

There's going to be an exchange. ...But where?

Damn this fucking club. He consoles himself with the fact that he has a lead and if he stays on top of these clowns somehow, then maybe he'll find something else out. He moves into the crowd and then comes out on the opposite side of the men. Because the noise of the club is just so much better on this side- it isn't. But if he's catching bits and pieces and waiting to see what the men or the woman on stage do next, he wants to avoid being in one place for too long. Best to look like his floating the club, flirting with everyone he sees, etc.]

[supremacist]

Yes, it will take me a few weeks to secure some more... [LOUD DRUNK GUY YELLING IN DES' EAR. Meanwhile, guy in the suit is digging in his pocket to pull out a pen that he clicks to life. He reaches out for a napkin that's got a drink ring on it and flips it over.] Let's make it the 9th. [The other man seems to respond with something, but it's impossible to hear now that Des is... on the opposite side of him. But he gets to hear most of the response] Same time, yes.

I'll bring Zane. He loves a good show. [His face reads amused contempt as he smirks and stuffs the napkin into his own pocket and goes to down his drink.

And then there's a waiter in Des' face, with a tray, asking if he can get him anything.]

[nothingsodivine]

[Do not punch Drunk Guy. Do not start a fight in here. That would be bad. Des unclenches his fist and assures himself that one drunk idiot is not worth undoing all the BS he had to pull to get in here.

Great. He has a name. Liam's got people and there can't be that many friggin' Zanes in Chicago, let alone the damn US, so that was- Oh hi, waiter.]

I'm good. I have a drink- had a drink. It's somewhere right now, but that's okay. I'm good. Totally. [Yes, that is Des using some of the muddled-ness he hasn't been able to shake off to feign drunkenness.]

[supremacist]

[The waiter eyes him warily, but seems thoroughly convinced and moves on to the table to touch up the guys' there. That serves as an interruption to their conversation however, and they clink glasses and focus back on the show with that predatory I've-got-a-secret look on their faces still, apparently done talking shop for now.

Meanwhile, the girl is finishing up her show up there, winding up back in the middle of the stage as she lowers her mic, eyes sweeping dramatically down as if the sadness of the world has proven too much for her after just one song and you're all shit out of luck. And sure enough, the curtain starts to fall again as everyone howls with a mixture of applause and disappointment and desperation for her to just come back and do a fucking encore already.]

[nothingsodivine]

[Well, that's all she wrote. Des hovers for a moment at the edges of the crowd and then decides to see if he can stumble his way to an exit- he doubts he's going to get anymore information and if he gets out before he gets knocked the fuck out and forgets everything... Well, good for him.

Now it's just a matter of sneaking along the way he came in to try to see if there's a way back out along the same lines.

Good luck with that, Des.]

[behindcloseddoors]

[It's actually appallingly simple to get out of this place. No one stops Des as he heads for the exit, or makes his way out that door and back into that hallway with the little glow lights. However, he does get the strangest feeling that he's forgetting something...

Which really only grows as he moves away from the music, which becomes more and more muffled, and his head starts to feel the same way.*

*Will save of 15 or above, or memories start fading fast of ... everything that went on back there...]

[nothingsodivine]

[In which Des fails every wis check except one and it wasn't the important one and makes it outside. It takes him a few minutes to get over the hazy feeling, the sensation of...

The sensation of...

The... What was he doing?

He blinks, looks around, gets the impending sense of deja vu, but without all the fun of knowing why this is deja vu and then it occurs to him, BECAUSE THAT WAS THE WISDOM CHECK HE ACTUALLY PASSED. And he has to bite down on his fist to muffle a scream of fury.] Fuck.