|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 0:49:48 GMT -8
Franz laughed, flashing a teasing grin at the unhappy desk clerk. "Misto it is then, no need to kick a duck while he's down. Franz is fine, you won't have the worst mangle of it by far. I've met Frenchies." He would have changed the damn thing, but he never could shake his accent completely.
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 0:56:30 GMT -8
Misto's own grin widened at that. "Franz then," he said, getting it mostly right the first time. "I am most pleased to meet you."
Martin narrowed his eyes at the two toms standing together and... laughing? Oh please. He was also wondering what the hell that German Pinkerton was doing in town. Damnit. Clearly he had not been nearly as subtle as he thought. Giving them another glare, he returned to the paperwork he was doing, hoping they would go away and let him ponder this new development.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 1:10:01 GMT -8
"Likewise. I think this is the first time I've relaxed in a week. Your town's hard on outsiders." Especially on the poor penniless bastard section of said outsiders. It was nice, to chat with no other reason than to find a bit of good humor. And maybe a drink, later. If he could manage to swing it that is.
There was something about that clerk though, a little itch on the back of his neck. Snooty little bastard.
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 1:16:22 GMT -8
Another short laugh. "It's pretty hard on those that have been living here the past twenty years too," he said. He liked the other cat. Despite his rather statuesque pose earlier, he had a good sense of humor.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 1:27:49 GMT -8
Franz was sympathetic, lord knew that he would have never survived living back at home. Survived feeling trapped, being known is such excruciating detail you could feel yourself being cataloged. "Well then maybe you should come back with me to sweet home Chicago." His lilt on the city was pure and full of that city's natural twang. Good humor lured him forward into extending the joke. "We've got the best bands you know, cats with real swing in their souls." With greed in their hearts and stars in their eyes. It turned his stomach as much as it made him nostalgic. It was walking that emotional tightrope that was the attraction, the dance and dangerous bounce of it.
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 1:35:30 GMT -8
Misto's eyes widened at that, but he was still grinning. "Chicago huh? And good bands even." He thought for a moment about the speakeasy he had spent the last couple night at. "I don't know, Felidae might grow on you. We have some pretty swinging bands too," though his voice couldn't hold half the affection Franz's had for Chicago.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 1:47:15 GMT -8
Oh but this one was fun, wide hazel eyes and unfailing grin. And he danced a decent wit out too. "Grow on me like a fungus maybe, and I was never partial to those truffles. Taste like sawdust if you ask me." Franz did raise a paw, tilting his head just so in deference. "Though I've only seen one of your bands, they weren't intolerable, but they didn't exactly swing either." He flashed one of his best smiles, relaxing through his shoulders and putting a bit of cautious flirt in. It was a dangerous game to play, outside of the right clubs, but he lived for the thrill and the little guy was pretty cute. "Who's your favorite in town? "
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 1:54:06 GMT -8
"Well, where did you see this unswinging band then? The one down at the Chrysalis is verging on excellent if they can get that sax player fully in tune. But he's new." Misto tilted his head.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 2:05:14 GMT -8
And not a bite. Franz blinked and clicked his tongue, staring off into the distance for a moment and wondering if he should edge out on this branch a little more or just leave the effort to go unanswered. "You know, I don't think anyone ever mentioned the name." He shrugged apologetically. "I was just there to wind down, my first gig got off to a pretty rough start. Did meet the boss there though, decent cat of him to throw a job my way. Your city's not exactly easy on the pocket either." He grinned to take the sting out. "You've got me all curious now." He could always ask the next time he was in, or the new boss. But it'd be a bit more fun to bring Misto around and share a nightcap.
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 2:12:21 GMT -8
Misto arched an eyebrow. "Curious about what? And where was this place then?" He knew of quite a few different clubs and speakeasies though he rarely visited most of them. "I'd probably know it. Describe it a little."
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 2:24:40 GMT -8
"What the name of it is ducky." He snapped his fingers. "No, wait, it was the best swing band in town. Or maybe it was both. No! I remember. It was what colors your socks are." Franz couldn't have kept the teasing grin off his face if he tried. The kid was making him feel playful. He decided to settle down, just a little bit. Keep the cat assured that he wasn't a total space out. "Nice place, decent bartender, don't water their gin." He bit his lip, pretending to think again. "Smooth bar, beautiful dark wood that they kept clean enough you had to be careful with your paws not to squeak. And the stickers, got the feeling the bartender'd skin me alive if I scratched the thing. Not usually my scene, I like the dances better, but without anybody to show him around a cat's just got to do his best."
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 2:28:25 GMT -8
Misto laughed at the first bit, a little surprised by it, true, but amused. However, he frowned slightly when he heard the description of the bar. "And the cat that hired you, did he run the place? What was his name?" His stomach dropped a little at the idea.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 2:39:31 GMT -8
It wasn't flirting, but make a cat laugh and you could worm your way into his confidences faster than gypsy magic. But Franz ears flicked in mild concern as he watched his shorter companion. "Yes, how'd you know?" Natively leery of giving to much away on a job, he paused before answering, it wasn't the sort of secret you could really keep when you were working as a bodyguard after all. "Told me his name was Jones. Short cat, natty suits." He held his hand up below his chest to illustrate.
|
|
|
|
Post by victoriousscarf on Dec 9, 2010 2:46:55 GMT -8
Misto's ears flickered back and he felt his stomach drop. "Oh god, your boss is Jones, which means Jones is here right now..." he swallowed, already taking a step back. "It was great to meet you, really, I hope to see you again, but I really need to not be here--"
Jones came around from the top of the steps at that moment, face dark and darkening even further when he looked around the main reception room. "Mistoffelees?" he snapped out, eyes widening and then narrowing at the sight of the other.
Misto froze, his spine going straight. Slowly, he turned on one heel. "Yes?" he asked, voice tight as he watched the other cat waddle down the stairs.
"Whatever are you doing here?" Jones demanded, not really paying much attention to Franz at the moment, more focused on the smaller black cat.
"I work here," Misto said very quietly.
"Does the place have no standards then?"
"Apparently not," Misto replied, voice even smaller, and he could feel his tail come up to wrap around his left leg. He hated the fact that even when he felt his tail twitch around he couldn't stop it.
Jones huffed. "They must truly be desperate to hire someone like you."
"You would know, wouldn't you uncle?" Misto said, voice gaining back some strength in what sounded an awful lot like anger.
|
|
|
|
Post by havlockvhett on Dec 9, 2010 2:59:31 GMT -8
Franz had tensed, instinctively started to reach out to the other cat's shoulder, half in reassurance and half to hold him still so he could get some answers.
Robert had told him once, deep in his cups, that there were only two cardinal rules of policing. And the second was never, ever, get involved in domestic disputes. You get in the middle of that much love and hate flying around and somebody always got hurt. You watched, you picked up the pieces, but you never got involved.
It wasn't a theory he'd ever completely subscribed to, but he also wasn't going to start picking sides on what was clearly a long-term feud when he'd barely had time to scout the battlefield. It didn't help that he liked the both of them, even if the fight brought out the nasty bully in the natty cat and the scaredy cat in little Misto.
Franz would just keep well out of it, for now, and hope the cute one meant what he said about running into each other again.
|
|
