Thread: Ghost of Demon Past (Soul &+&+ Alvis)

To say that Jaime looked like she was being put through the ringer was to put it mildly. She looked like something was crawling up inside of her, and tearing her apart. Carl didn't know nearly enough about her past to make a good judgement call on that. But what he did have was a good experience on running damage control. And the bartender throwing up behind the bar? Bad idea. Very very bad idea. Granted, they needed a mop as it was to take care of the booze, but it would be bad for business to say the least. He looked out over the patrons, and waved a boucer over. Don't do that here Jaime. Come on girl, keep it together, and we'll get you out of here. He said to her faintly. He gave a warning look to the other patrons to sit down and shut up if they knew what was good for them. They seemed to get the message rather aptly. The bouncer was close when Carl spoke to him. Can you handle the bar for a few minutes? He asked. Uh... The bouncer looked at the bar a moment before Carl cut into his introspection. Yes or no. Now. Yeah, yeah. I can. For...a little while. Good, do it. He said calmly, and looked back at Jaime, guiding her with him. Come on Jaime. Let's get you some air, okay? Looks like you could use some right now. He led her from the bar proper, into the back room, where they stored excess bottles of booze, before reaching hte loading doors that they would do transfers at. And it was the fastest way to get Jaime out of the sight and hopefully where she could get herself into better order. Carl pushed the back door open, adnt he cool night air rushed over both of them. THe bouncer stepped over the broken glass quickly, getting drinks served where they needed to be, serving the regulars before geting to the man at the end. What'll it be? He asked. Whiskey. Surprise me. But a rye. He said calmly. The bouncer nodded, and grabbed the first rye he saw, pouring it into a glass, and handing it to the man. The bouncer saw a hand going up for a refill, and moved to take care of it. This was why they had two tenders. The rye was not his first choice, but it would do. She'd known him, known him well, he hadn't lied to her that night. SHe would never forget him. Not his voice, not the feel of his hands, and not what he'd taken. Never that. If she lived to be a hundred, he had no doubt she'd never forget that part of him. He drained his glass as the new tender came into view, and he pushed the glass forward. It was refilled promptly. That was good. He'd make sure that this was nothing to raise a suspicion, after all. He still wanted to play a game or two with the lady. And having her too much on guard would wreck the whole thing for him. And then what was the point? He smiled at the thought. He wondered what she might have been doing in the time since he'd seen her last. Had she been so deeply scarred by his actions that she'd never gotten close with another man? A part of him hoped so. Another part of him hoped the opposite, wondering what it might be like with her being more experienced. But then, it didn't really matter. She would always remember the first time. He did hope that the second could be as memorable.