A Less Timely Intervention
He had been sitting at the bar for several minutes before slowly removing his helmet. As he looked around the haze of the last few days returned as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights and dusty space. There was some sound, it sounded like static though he knew it was the news or some radio programme playing quietly in the background.
Still in the costume then?
He looked up at the barman, whose bulk towered over the counter. Had there been a bit of light in the dingy building there certainly would be a dark shadow cast upon the patron. Not that he needed any extra darkness after the past few days. He tried to focus on the man before him before eventually giving up and closing his eyes, and resting his head on the counter.
Yeah, about what I expected after that chaos you caused last night. How many did you have? The barman walked away, grabbing a glass and talking absent minded all the while. You know, that was a pretty good trick confusing that Marcone thug so he didnt bottle you. Shame you sent him after his boss though. Just when I thought he was going to crack you right across the head, he stopped and got some weird look across his face. The barman also stopped, attempting to make a similar face, laughing the entire time. Unfortunately his audience was struggling with a severe hangover and there were no others to enjoy the spectacle. It, sadly, went unnoticed.
So he got that look on his face and flopped around. And then Crack! right across the head! Glass sprayed everywhere and the boss was out cold. The way the rest of the gang crowded around to get a punch on the goon was a great sight. Youve got a knack for it Colm. Its why I hired you, anyway. And why I dont bother to throw you out and ban you after all the stunts you pull and the disasters that follow. Good for a laugh, you know?
Finally, Colm let out a pitiful moan. Just a laugh?
It definitely was not looking like an improvement from previous days already. Not only was his head pounding now while nausea built up, the barman was trying to make jokes. Definitely not a good start. The man behind the bar began to pour a pint, continuing to congratulate Colm on a terrible, but none the less entertaining, job well done.
Here, I imagine you will need this. Something to perk you up and get the ball rolling.
The man in the costume just sighed, not moving his head from the spot, hoping that the throbbing would subside. It had been several months since he arrived. Several months of drinking and gambling and a few other more perverse activities and he still found himself in this same dump most nights. Blackbeards Pub certainly wasnt the nicest place he could chose to visit. There was always the allure of the Golden Giza, though his debts werent exactly squared away at the moment and money was tight. That was an issue he would need to clear up. An issue he was also completely stuck with at the moment. There was a constant thought bugging him. Where is Sebastian Kain? While he didnt believe that Kain was needed, a bit of pay certainly couldnt hurt.
To think he had some sort of grand ideas when he arrived. Make a name for himself, separate from his sister, and more importantly, different from before. What kind of name is Numerology anyway? He arrived to this cursed island, looking to make a name for himself and instead was treated like dirt. Sure, it might have been presumptuous to expect people here to know who he was, and his insistence on claiming a name for himself probably turned a few heads and incited a fair amount of pointing and laughing behind his back, but he, Colm McCain, had been making a few waves. Well he had been before everything apparently fell apart around him. Maybe it wasnt waves. He was probably the boat riding someone elses waves. And, continuing the terrible metaphor he constructed, those waves were going to smash the boat on some rocks sooner or later. It seemed like things just werent meant to work in his favour.
And even if Sebastian Kain were to turn up, as was always the chance of with his entirely unnerving disappearances and subsequent reappearances, there were some issues that even money wouldnt help. There was that strange occurrence where that cybernetic creep cornered him, picked him up by the throat and demanded to know who was leading ERA. Of course, sending the crazed cyborg after Bioshift might not have been the brightest move looking back on it now, but it was settled already. At least he was in the clear, though Colm was already realising how this could backfire.
Well, this is going to be a lot more interesting than I thought
He muttered the words to himself, though the barman overheard. Thankfully, some coincidence ensured they werent too out of context. Maybe things could turn for the better.
You dont remember? Must have been drunker than you late on. The real laugh started once one of those mooks spilled a drink belonging to that Arachnos agent. Then the sparks really started. Well, they almost started a fire but we got it under control quick.
This happened because of me? He posed the question, without really intending it to be. He just didnt remember a fire in the least. I probably need to cut back a bit.
Hey, it is all a good laugh now. Last night was infinitely better than that time you drunkenly decided to confuse those Hellions one by one as they entered the pub. Having to clean up the next morning and explain what happened to the boss wasnt easy you know.
At last he stirred. He sat up, almost painfully slowly, as the barman looked on. No, that wasnt a finer moment of mine. But you cant say I didnt make ya laugh with that one. Colm smiled, painfully, and took a sip from the drink in front of him. Ya never asked me to stop and that was weeks ago. I scaled it back a bit for ya anyway though.
He looked around him, his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room before setting his gaze back upon the drink in front of him. There were so many he had come into contact with since arriving to the Isles, yet he wasnt sure what to make of his place among them. The fortune teller, despite their several encounters, was as dismissive as ever and she was far from the only one. There was that bunch associating with Slaphappy as well. Their reaction was similar. Remarkably similar. Now, he didnt mind Slaphappy, the guy made his choice, went his own way. Sure he was tied to ERA, but he wasnt blinded by devotion. Slaphappy got stuff done, and was respected for it. The company he kept recently, that was another matter. There was that blonde who kept vanishing and the ginger girl who almost dismissed him outright. Why was that that? What am I doing wrong?
Say, Davey, why do you insist on calling me Colm?
The barman stopped and looked confused for a second. Well, it is your name. I make it a habit of calling my employees by a name.
Colm sneered and replied, That isnt what I meant.
You mean why dont I call you by that terrible name you are trying to go by? Numb or something like that?
There was a silence which Colm thought went on just a bit too long.
Ya got it right there. Well, almost.
Well, Im going to be frank. Dont got to go messing with my head or anything. But really, what have you done? Dont make that face, hear me out. Some guys, you see, they got it, they have the deeds to back them up. I know the names of some others you were associated with and they earned those names. Built up a reputation, maybe not a successful reputation, but they did stuff. You, well, I cant say what youve done. Or even what you havent done. You just work for me.
The barman shrugged. He shrugged off the months spent in the Isles. The time it took to track down Sebastian Kain. All the effort Colm had put into finding a way in, a way to make a name. It was all tossed away and he was left taking tips off a barman to keep the regulars around Port Oaks in line for a pittance. But it was the truth. And with it, Colm was left with the fragments he tried desperately to hold together.
Colm suddenly jumped alert, and the pain of his hangover shot through his body. Of course he regretted the motion, but the radio captured his attention. He was certain that the radio had said words which would turn out to be more important than any others he had heard before.
Kain was in custody today.
Kain? Sebastian Kain? He had missed the first name. But there was the glimmer of hope there. He needed to take it.
Mind if I head out for a bit? No? I didnt think so.
The barman suddenly froze as if paralysed. Colm stood up, shakily, grabbed his helmet and walked out the door. A trickle of blood began to flow from the barmans nose.
