After arriving at her place of business expertise, Monique noted quickly that bouncer who usually watched the front door was not present any longer.
"Weird, King must be out today." she commented out loud before entering inside TECHNOIR was not known for it's cleanliness or good reputation. The money was good though, and the other dancers weren't too bad of people as far as Monique was concerned.
Walking in the smell of bleach hit her nostrils like a brick. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she walked towards the bar.
"It stinks in here.." she stated bluntly, taking off her backpack and sliding it up and over the bar top. The bartender chuckled,
”You missed the action earlier today, Boss got murked. Now I’m the boss.” he gleaned, Mo raised her eyebrows curiously. That kind of changed her plans for staying there for the next few weeks. She shrugged. It was discouraging that people had so little concern about life in Morvai.
Moving towards the back of the bar, Monique entered the room where the girls were getting ready and talking about what was to happen next because of their boss being killed. The mood of the room was pretty happy, despite the situation.
"Ladies.." she cooed, tying her mess of dark curls high up on her head. She removed her top, as she changed into a new pair of clothes that resided in her locker.
”Cute shorts!” a girl commented as she tugged at the bottom of Monique’s grey shorts. Mo smirked,
"Nah, I’m a hot mess. In more ways than one." she pointed up towards the fans that were barely working, making the back room unbearable to stay in.
She replaced her top with a swimsuit top resembling a dark grey bikini. It would be cooler to work in, and get her some better tips. She left the back room and got back to the bar, the music still blaring over the sound system. Starting some basic cleaning of tables- wiping up some blood splatter with the same wash cloth that she cleaned the tables with.
The busy city streets bustled with activity, a metal door came open slowly then rattled shut as Elliot Connolly emerged from inside of his home. The gentle breeze tingled his short brown hair and he took a long blink as intense summer heat hit him powerfully. The private investigator was not a fan of this type of weather, though hopefully it would cool down as the sun set in the sky. A group of children ran by him, hollering excitedly as they went to play soccer on such a beautiful day.
He started to walk along the sidewalk, clad in attire atypical of many citizens during such a warm season. But he was a man of consistency, especially when out in public. He adjusted his tie, having left his overcoat in his home. It was far too hot for that. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his pistol sat tucked in his ankle holster, hidden by his pant leg. Elliot had done the work he needed to inside, his attention like many others in the sector having turned towards the three fires throughout the walled city. His mind always went to arson when an incident like this occured, the blistering hot and dry weather was perfect cover for such an act. He’d seen more than enough arsons during his time as a policeman, arrested multiple firestarters who often used it as a form of protest.
This was different, this was more akin to terrorism if indeed was an arson. An apartment complex full of innocent people? Children would perish, as would other innocents. People who had done nothing to deserve such a brutal fate. Elliot blinked again, shaking his head in an attempt to remove the morbid thoughts of burning corpses. As he walked along the street he continued to hear news of the incident, three separate fires. Undoubtedly all connected to have occured on the same day. He stepped carefully through a group of denizens crowded around a television, images of the flames on the screen as a reporter spoke live from the scene. The roads were congested with vehicles, he was better off walking to his destination.
TECHNOIR was a dirty bar, but such a place was often perfect for finding information. He was not investigating the fires, though he was certain that at sometime in the coming days an affected person might ask him to do so. Instead his current investigation was finding a missing person who frequented the bar, a son of a well known restaurant owner in Korven. That man was the one who had asked him to look into the disappearance, offering a generous payment to do so. The police were often hesitant going into the dirtier parts of Korven, which TECHNOIR was situated in. This hesitation was no problem for Elliot, he was entirely independent. He’d spent the last two days since receiving the ‘mission’ attempting to piece together the man’s last whereabouts
Elliot sighed, then continued his walk towards the bar, not exactly excited to soon be finding himself inside such a wicked place. But he had a promise to keep, and a concerned family to help the best he could. In such a case any conclusion of the son’s whereabouts was what he needed. Though he hoped he could report the young man was still alive, and wouldn’t have to suggest they made funeral arrangements.
Monique had taken a good look at the man who had walked in. He was a little too well dressed to be in a place like this. That meant one of two things; he was a cop or he was going to give big tips. Monique hadn’t done anything wrong lately, so she made her rounds to that end of the bar as she wiped up around the area where he was sitting. She noticed the blood stains on the rag as she quickly rolled it up into a ball so he could barely see.
"Thirsty?" she smiled, her bright round eyes matching his.
“I’ll take a Coke, thanks.” Elliot answered with a nod, locking eyes with the pretty bartender for a moment. Around him people were getting drunk and rowdy, though he’d rather not join them. Having seen far too often the effects alcohol had on people. Fortunately, drunks tended to blabber and speak their minds.
Her mouth pursed.
"A Coke?" she hit the top of the bar top to get the attention of the man behind it.
"Yo, Chris. This guy wants a Coke!" she said, loudly over the music. Chris turned and shook his head. The bartender really didn’t want to deal with customers who weren’t drinking, because it meant they weren’t going to do much else at the establishment.
"Fucking asshole.." she groaned as she boosted herself up onto the bar and turned herself around to slip onto the other side.
"Sorry." Monique admitted, pulling up the tab to fill a glass with an ice cold drink. She slid it over to him,
"You sure you don’t want anything else? We got a lot of other fun things if you’re not a drinker."”You don’t have to apologize. I don’t normally come in a place such as this, I was looking for a friend who frequented here. Haven’t seen him in a few days.” Elliot replied as he grasped the drink, sipping it as he looked at the girl who served him.
”What other services are there and what is your name?” He asked her, feeling bad for her that she worked in such a tough place. He’d heard stories and tales of this bar, people ending up dead, fights breaking out at seemingly random. This girl was nice, seemingly not in a way that she was just doing to get a nice tip.
She gave a hearty laugh. It was very apparent that he didn’t come to these type of places often, but she thought it was pleasant that he had to tell her so.
"Oh your friend? I know everybody here, and everybody knows me." Monique poured herself a glass of cold water to keep cool.
"What does your friend look like?" she questioned, leaning on the bar in a relaxed action. She wasn’t really on duty per say, so no one really would be there to complain. Plus her real boss had just been
killed so it wasn’t too big of a problem either way.
Monique didn’t want to tell the man what other services they had here suddenly. She was almost embarrassed to be saying what kind of place it was, though she was sure he already knew.
"Oh you know, just singing and dancing. Nothing too crazy." a nervous giggled fell from her lips as she threw back the water before refilling her glass and taking more of the delicious liquid down her throat.
"My friends call me Mo. You can call me Monique until otherwise."”I’m Elliot, nice to meet you Monique.” Elliot said as he stuck his hand out for a shake, giving a rare smile to her.
Monique looked at his outstretched hand awkwardly.
"We ain’t doing business baby, I don’t need to shake your hand.”" she laughed, trying not to embarass her new found friend too much.
”You’re a funny one Elliot." she smiled.
“Sorry, my parents raised me that way. Old fashioned and I guess out of place here,” Elliot said as he released her hand then smirked once more. Then he spoke again, scratching the back of his neck.
“I used to be funnier.” ”I’m sure, just singing and dancing. Not lap dances or the like. I’m good right now with just a drink and talking to you, M.,” He added, raising his eyebrows slightly to show that he knew there was more going on than she said did, then taking another drink. He was enjoying talking to this girl, though he still tried to put his task at hand as his focus.
”My friend’s name is John Costa. His family owns The Olive Lounge a few blocks away, he’s a little shorter than me, with brown eyes, tan skin and short black hair. Has a few tattoos on his right arm. Nice kid, kind of a party animal, young though. Think he might have gone on a bender and ended up somewhere unfamiliar.” The investigator added, trying to give a suitable description of his ‘friend’, he’d never met the kid in his life but it would seem strange if he admitted he was investigating a disappearance. Might get him thrown out of the bar.
A gentle smile was exchanged,
"Don’t apologize for good manners. My grandparents would have loved you. They told me our family line was originally from some place called ‘The South’ and I guess they were big about manners, but maybe it skipped a few generations now and again."Elliot seemed like a gentle soul, Monique had no intentions now on fucking him over as she did when she first laid eyes on him as he entered TECHNOIR. She ignored his comments about lap dancing and the like, she didn’t want to bring the topic back up now she placed him in the category of ‘gentleman’. The name John Costa rang a bell with Monique, and the description to follow set it in stone.
"Oh." she let out with a bit of a huff of breath. John had visited her often and was a fun guy indeed. Her brain traced over the tattoos that were inked into his arm, the arm that wrapped around her as the two had made love several times.
"I don’t know where he went. I know him, he did come around here a lot but, I haven’t seen him in just over a month." Monique admitted, her voice kind of somber in tone. Monique was not sure if John had been the father of the child she had growing inside of her, but he was a possibility.
"The Olive Lounge has good food too!" she chimed in, her stomach empty from earlier this morning.
”I’m sorry if its a rough subject, he’s a good kid, I’m sure he’s okay. I haven’t heard from him in a while, I’m going to try to find him.” Elliot replied as he took notice of Mo’s reaction. It seemed she knew him well, and showed genuine concern for his well being.
“The Lounge is one of the top restaurants in the city, the couple that owns it is the sweetest, last thing I’d want is for them to have to deal with any more worry over their son’s disappearance. I hope that he didn’t get tied up in the wrong kind of people,” Elliot stated as he looked briefly around the bar. Then back towards Mo, locking eyes with her.
“The police aren’t any help, they barely tried to look for him. His family is worried sick, so is his wife.”