mogget_cat | New Orleans w/Jason

From the bar, the two of them step out into the humid, New Orleans night. The clouds cover the stars and moon, leaving it up to the streetlamps to cast light upon the people who are out and about this evening.

There's the scent of rain in the air. Rain, and the scents of people, cheap hot dogs, alcohol, and the underlying scent of the city, always there.

"It's not far. Just a few blocks over," Yrael says as she looks out at Bourbon St.

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There's a small smirk at that last brush against his back. "Yeah you do. Thanks."

Wik has made it to one of the few openings at the bar, conveniently made by an older man perched next to Jason, giving her the practiced leer of an aged Italian barfly.

He can't help but grin and chuckle into his drink as she expertly -yet politely- dispatches him. Jason can feel her eyes shift to him at the chuckle, and he turns to meet her raised brow. "Nice. Wasn't much of a challenge with a guy like that, but I can't say you aren't skilled."

"Comes with the territory, hon," Wik smirks briefly at Jason before turning to the barman. It's polite thanks for the compliment, but it's the same politeness as she's been giving everyone else. "Rum'n'coke please, Jack. Myers Dark if you got any left."

Jason looks up at Jack and gestures for another drink as well.

"You perform professionally?"

"It's more a hobby than anything else, but yeah, deals like this help get my name out and help pay the bills every so often," she replies as Jack sets her drink in front of her, before he starts on Jason's refill.

Yrael leans back against the bar, pretending to listen to the current performers, a garage wannabe group called Outrageous Flavor They're enthusiastic, Yrael will give them that.

"What do you do when you're not onstage?"

He smiles to Jack and nods a thanks.

"I enjoy trying for a quiet drink while fending off over-enthusiastic opportunists in the politest way possible," Wik says, grinning at him over the rim of her drink.

Ignore the not'cat at your back, Jason. She just swallowed wrong. The coughinglaughingfit will pass shortly.

Jason rolls his eyes and makes a disgusted smile, but still grins. "Jesus. Some people just can't take a hint, can they?"

He glances over his shoulder at Bianca, shooting her a not too friendly look and praying they call her onstage soon.

He turns back to Wik. "So you must sleep in the daytime and perform and/or try to enjoy quiet drinks. Hmmm...sounds like quite the life to me."

"No, apparently not. And I work during the day, thanks," she says, sipping her rum and coke. "Tomorrow's just my day off."

Yrael ignores Jason in favor of the Outrageous Flavor going on onstage. It's kind of outrageous. Or is trying to be, at least. Enthusiastic Flavor may be more appropriate.

They're loud at any rate. Makes talking a bit harder.

He laughs. "Well I guess I can scratch 'vampire' off your list of occupations." He's joking, of course. He wouldn't really think she was a vampire. They smell completely different...

"Hardly," Wik says as she stubs out her cigarette on an ashtray, though she does sound amused. "Not even in this town."

"This tow...oh right, the books." He snorts slightly: he'd tried reading them once and had fallen over laughing. Not to say that some things weren't eerily true, but...

"Get a lot of the hardcore fans around, do you?"

"Some," she snorts. "As you always do. The city makes a tidy sum off of the Haunted New Orleans tours even without looking to airport fiction."

"Eh, what city doesn't want to cash in on whatever it can? So long as the crazies keep their crazy to a minimum."

If it's one thing he's come to hate, it's the vampire freaks. Only want one thing, and it's not him. One woman...girl...even went so far as to ask him where the vampires slept...whilst in mid-coitus. Talk about a turn-off.

He turns slightly to offer a hand with a wry grin. "I'm Jason, by the way. Not one of the crazies. At least I don't think I am."

She hesitates a moment, before moving to shake his hand in return. "Nice to meet you, Jason," she says with a wry answering smirk. "Genevieve, though I'm technically here as Wik, tonight."

"Genevieve? That's pretty. This is one of those times I'd love to fling some French at you, but it always just goes in one ear and out the other."

Granted, he's usually hearing the more genteel French right before being rolled, and he couldn't remember it if he wanted to.

"Where'd you come up with Wik?"

She laughs. "I don't even know any French, not real French, so I'm afraid it'd be lost on me, hon." Chuckling, she sips her rum'n'coke. "It was a joke at work, since I work in reference at the city library. A friend of mine said I knew where to find information on anything."

The name got extrapolated from there, then shortened.

Jason chuckles. "Clever. It's a catchy name, too: good for stage."

He eyes her appreciatively. "You know? I wouldn't have pegged you for working in the library, but it kinda makes me happy to know you do. Makes reading look good."

His smile broadens. "You could do lectures at the local middle schools, and you'd have teen boys hitting the library in droves."

"I was aiming for upper management, but I gotta work my way up before I can take on the library as a whole," she smirks at the flattery.

"Hmmmm, we do need to get our numbers up. Even if the boys wouldn't be there to actually use the library, if they walk in the door, they count. The question would be if I could stand dealing with the middle school boys being there."

Wik pauses, then shifts to lean her elbow on the bar. Despite herself, Jason is offering interesting conversation. "What about you? What do you do when not listening to unfamous people wanting to be famous?"

Jason considers this. "They are pretty rowdy. Maybe workshops? Word gets out that a hot library chick is teaching a workshop, and maybe it'll keep them busy. Play your cards right, they might even learn something. Just make sure it's something they can relate to: so show how it can relate to getting a girl to go home with them."

He chuckles and drops his head slightly. "Me? Well..." I'm like the PA for the master vampire of my city who munches on me at least every other day, I hang out with the leader of my local werewolf pack to which I am a member, and sometimes offer myself up for sex with our local necromancer who has become a real life succubus.

He grins. "I strip."

One of Wik's two black, arched eyebrows becomes even more arched.

"Really?"

She looks him over.

"You any good? Most people wouldn't come right out and admit that."

He chuckles. "I like to think I am. I'm one of the headliners at any rate. So...yeah, I'm pretty good."

He cocks an eyebrow at her, giving her a roguish look. "Why lie? You never know when someone's going to call you out on it."

"Explains the attitude, at least," she chuckles lowly into her rum'n'coke. "Where're you working? Anyplace local?"

"Use what you've got, right?"

He shakes his head, scooting a little closer to converse without shouting.

"Nah, I'm from St. Louis. I'm here visiting an old friend." His grin is mischievous. "Why, you want to catch the show?"

"Possibly," she smirks at him. "It'd at least give me the opportunity to see if you've got anything to back up that attitude of yours."

In the background, the mediocre band draws its enthusiastically mediocre song to a close, to mediocre applause.

He looks more than a little pleased with himself as he leans in to smirk. "Why wait so long? I could show you right now."

The laughter in his eyes means that he might be teasing. Then again, he might not...