XSilentWingsX

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

@Kingfisher I was just wondering, is saint somabra supposed to be the patron saint of anything in particular?

Allevent: the Sky Pirates of Oceanica

Elara laughed lightly. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a pyurgist who wasn’t at least a bit crazy. There was this one I used to work with who would make Kisaki’s… episodes seem almost serene.” She shook her head ruefully at the memories. “Though I couldn’t really blame him,” she added. “You can only work at the spellcrafter’s guild for so long before you’re just itching to blow something up.”

Elara accepted the drink with a smile. Alcohol was definitely welcome after such a long day. The smile faded however as she heard Grady’s question. She shifted in her seat, taking a large gulp from the drink in her hand. She was quiet for a moment.

“Once,” she admitted. Elara sighed, taking another drink before she explained. “There were these two years, right before I joined your crew,” she said, nodding to him. “It was just a little while after I’d left the guild. No one would hire me, didn’t want some young girl flying their ships.” She frowned in distaste. “I started to get pretty desperate for work, and of course I didn’t want to return home at the time... So, when I finally found a job, I accepted right away. The ship was a piece of crap, but I didn’t particularly care. It was supposed to be a month long job. I’d been hired by the first mate, so I didn’t even meet the captain until I was already on board.” She scoffed. “It was the first and last time I ever made that mistake.”

Elara paused briefly, a flicker of anger in her eyes. “...The bastard was completely insane, in the worst way. Half the crew was scared and starving. I was on there three weeks before the son of a bitch set his own damn ship on fire in the middle of the night. It didn’t really end well.”

She stared off at nothing for a moment, lost in the memory, eyes hard. Crew members had been burned alive on that ship while others suffocated in the lower levels. A few had jumped overboard. The ship had practically fallen out of the sky once the engine blew. She’d managed to land the thing in the water off some coast to the east. Most of the crew members hadn’t made it. There’d been one young girl in particular who’d reminded Elara of one of her younger sisters... The captain had unfortunately made it onto the shore, but that was as far as he’d gotten. It had been the only time Elara had lost control of her aeurgy. It was not however, a moment she regretted. Elara had a rather protective nature, and to see such ruin come to a crew and ship that she had been sailing... It had been rather trying.

It was a relief when more of the crew members started to appear in the wardroom. Elara cleared her throat and straightened in her chair. “Good,” she said. “We should start this meeting soon. Carter’s good with sailing, but the boy still gets a bit nervous. I’d like to make sure he’s not flying us in the wrong direction,” she joked, referring to the crew member she had sailing the ship in her place.

Allevent: the Sky Pirates of Oceanica

Elara heaved a sigh as she saw Grady return to the Aleph Null, finally letting the barrier she’d been holding drop, releasing the crystal around her neck as she did so. If the captain was back, it meant that things had gone well enough that there was no longer a need to protect the sails. Thank the gods, she thought wryly. Even with the help of the stannum infused in her crystal, it was rather tiring to hold a barrier up for so long, especially over so large an area, but she’d have been damned if she was going to let the blasted things catch on fire again.

As Grady approached her, she nodded her head in greeting, moving back to lean against one of the barrels on deck. “Captain,” she said.

When he praised her, Elara simply smiled, a bit too weary at the moment to give a reply, though she would normally have been quite surprised he wasn’t snapping at her in his usual manner. Perhaps we’re all a bit tired, she thought. She listened to his instructions before straightening once more, dusting off a bit of fallen ash from her shoulders. She could rest later. There was still work to be done and a ship to fly after all, though she guessed they wouldn’t be moving for some time yet.

“Right away, Captain,” she said in reply. She turned her head to watch Grady walk away for a moment before glancing back up at the sails. Elara raised her brows, trying to estimate the costs of repairs. It likely would not be cheap, she decided. Not if they wanted it done properly, at least.

She snagged the nearest deckhand and instructed them to have a few of the men remove the main topsail; it was nothing more than burnt rags now, and would need to be completely replaced. The topmast was looking a bit burnt as well. She’d need to remember to have it looked at when they returned to Havenstad.

Elara supervised the sailors as they took down the remains of the topsail, calculating the adjustments she’d need to make to their flight to compensate for its lack in her head. As soon as the sail was properly stored she turned on her heel and went to find Big Chowder, the tail of her dark coat flapping slightly as she went. The ship’s quartermaster was not difficult to find, and she soon had warned the large man of the coming costs. She told him bluntly that she would not be skimping on the repairs and listened, unimpressed, as he grumbled at her about expenses and the like.

By the time she had everything settled, the sailing master was informed that she was to report to the warroom for the usual meeting that followed every such mission. Elara went more quickly than usual, eager to hear how things had gone on the other ship, and what it was exactly that they had been doing on said ship in the first place. She’d been wondering just what it was they were supposed to be getting since she was first told of the job. Elara had refrained from asking questions before, knowing that it would be explained when the captain felt it necessary, but all the same, she couldn’t help but be curious.

It appeared that she was the first of the officers to arrive at the warroom. The only sound in the room was the clacking of her heels against the floor as she moved to her usual seat at the large table. She shrugged off the heavy material of her coat as she sat, leaning back in her seat to relax with a light sigh.

“So,” she said conversationally, a small smile gracing her lips. “Things go alright on your end?” The smile dropped away as she added: “and what the hell was with all the fire?” Elara figured she’d get the full story as soon as the others arrived, and she was very interested in what they would have to say.

Allevent: the Sky Pirates of Oceanica

I don't really think we're waiting for specific turns. I'll have a post up later today however.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

I watched Sunset Boulevard today (hadn't seen it before, it was great) and it got me all excited and inspired for all things noir.

My first post is up! I had the ideas floating around in my head all day, so I had to write them out, but concerning the bodies and everything, it's not necessarily something I'm expecting anyone else to go off of. I thought it would be a good intro for Max and the bar, and shows that Max really is not having a good night so far. I had this whole other part planned out as well, but I'm semi-exhausted so I'll just work it into a later post.

I'm really enjoying everyone's posts so far.

Edit: So what exactly is the general consensus on color coding vs. not? Is it just go by preference at this point?

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Maxine Lewis had decided to leave her apartment building earlier than usual, as soon as the sun went down. She tied back her hair haphazardly and shrugged on a black leather jacket, concealing the gun she wore in a shoulder holster quite nicely. She locked the door behind her as she left, not that it would make much of a difference should someone truly want to break in. Perhaps it was just habit. She took the stairs down to the ground floor. The elevators would not be working that evening.

Glass crunched under her leather boots as Max made her way through the building’s lobby. Though normally somewhat dingy, the place had been torn to shreds. Luckily, it seemed only the first few floors had been affected by the riot. Even more luckily, it didn’t seem as if any fires had been started. The block had been on the very outskirts of the riot, as if on the edges of the blast radius. Most buildings on the street were more or less intact, which was good, considering Max’s bar was just one block away.

Max walked hurriedly along the sidewalk, flickering street lamps casting a long shadow behind her. The street was dark, damp, and disturbingly quiet. It seemed the rioting had shaken everyone up, many were staying indoors that night. It was in stark contrast to the shrieking noise of the riot, of beasts trying to crush any part of the damned city they good get their hands on. Max had heard it in progress, had seen the evidence outside of her window. She had stayed indoors, one of her bigger guns close by. There was no reason to get involved. Max didn’t like to associate too much with the warring gangs and their power struggles.

The rioting was however the reason for her rush. She had been in contact with her employees already. They had seen the bar first, and assured her there was no real damage. Lucky once more, she supposed, though truthfully, Max wasn’t sure she believed in luck. There was always something waiting to get you, especially in a city like this. If it didn’t happen one day, it only made the next day more daunting. There was a feeling, creeping up her back, one she couldn’t shake. She felt the next few days would not be easy ones, though they rarely were to begin with.

It took Max mere minutes to reach her destination. The Steel Thorn, in all its glory, was on the smaller side, a bit old fashioned. As promised, there was no visible damage, and though Max let out a sigh of relief, her expression didn’t soften, illuminated by the neon light of the sign. She pushed open the doors and strode inside. Max’s Place wasn’t one of those fancy new bars with trendy food menus, nor was it a bar filled to the brim with young males hollering at sports games on huge flat screens. It was simple, classic, no bells and whistles. The place was dimly lit. The furniture was mostly polished wood, stools with leather seats lining the bar, shelves filled with every kind of booze imaginable, tables, chairs, and booths spread throughout the room. The bar was an interesting mix of old and new, with touches giving hints to times and decades long past, though it would be difficult to point out exactly what gave it this long-lived feeling. After all, Max had only been running the place for five years, but perhaps a bit of her own past had bled into the atmosphere.

A few TVs scattered throughout the room showed different channels, though each was silent. Most weren’t paying attention to them at the moment. One screen did catch her eye however. It appeared to be showing a local news channel, reporting on the recent activity in Santa Somabra. There was footage of the rioting, clips of a city on fire. One of the patrons glanced at the same bright screen before turning away, gulping his drink down rather quickly.

There were more people in the bar that evening than Max had been expecting. She had thought patrons would be scarce, but it seemed more than a few people felt the need to drown their worries with alcohol after the rioting. The Steel Thorn attracted all sorts of characters. Humans, orcs, goblins, a couple of undead, they all came to drink. Max moved through the room, nodding at the bartender. The petite young girl was Emily, 24 years old and completely human, unlike Max. Her short hair was the color of dark honey, and big brown eyes gave her a rather innocent look, but she’d grown up on the streets of Santa Somabra, and anything innocent in her had died a long time ago.

Max headed through a door in the back, leading into her office, only to find she was quickly pursued by her second employee. Isaac was 32, a handful of years older than Max appeared to be, hispanic, and human. He was tall, around 6’3”, and the shirt he wore emphasized the fact that he was heavily muscled, strong, for a human at least. Usually quite cheerful, Isaac’s grim expression immediately set Max on edge. I knew there was something wrong, she thought.

“Max…” Isaac started, brows furrowed.

“Something happened,” Max stated plainly. “What? The bar didn’t look damaged. This has to do with the rioting doesn’t it?”

Isaac grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not sure.” He shook his head. “You’d better come out back.”

Max narrowed her eyes at the lack of explanation before heading towards the alley behind the bar, her employee in tow. It didn’t take long to see what the problem was. Three bodies lay sprawled on the ground. The corpses were mangled beyond recognition, their blood mixing with the puddles left by the rain. At least one appeared to be something less than human, but beyond that there wasn’t much one could make of the scene. They had been reduced to so much meat.

“Well fuck,” Max declared, raising her eyebrows at the aftermath of something that had obviously been quite unpleasant, at least for the three in front of her.

“Fuck indeed,” Isaac agreed, frowning at the mess. Like Emily, Isaac was from Santa Somabra, born and raised. He was no stranger to violent displays. “They were here when I opened up. Maybe it was part of the riot, or something to due with the gangs? Or a message for you?” he mused. “You probably have enemies.”

“You’re right about that,” she said with a faint smirk. “But I don’t think this was directed at me,” she continued with a sigh. “If it was a message, it would be a clear one, and this,” she said, gesturing at the corpses, “means nothing to me. If it was gangs or rioting and just some god awful coincidence, then I don’t want to know about it. I just want it gone.” She frowned in distaste. It may have been connected to the riots, but honestly that was a bit strange, considering that most of the street hadn’t been touched in the rioting. If it was gang-related, she didn’t want to get involved. Not with the shit that was going down in the city these days. It might have just been plain old murder. This kind of thing really was not so rare in Santa Somabra.

Isaac looked at her. “You gonna call the cops? I mean, we can’t just leave these here.”

Max glanced at him sharply. She raised her eyebrows, her face incredulous. “Are you kidding? The last people I want sniffing around my bar are the authorities. You may remember that part of my business is somewhat less than legal. Even if the majority of the cops in this city weren’t dirty bastards, it’s still unnecessary trouble... Besides, I think the cops are a bit preoccupied with the rioting. They probably wouldn’t even be able to spare a man to come over here if we did call.”

Max rubbed a hand over her face, sighing. She seemed to be sighing a lot tonight. “Just through a tarp over this mess, will you? You and Emily need to make sure no one heads out here. I’ll make a call and have this cleaned up quietly.”

She turned, heading back to her office, where she fell back into the overstuffed leather chair behind the heavy wooden desk, pulling her phone out to scroll through the contacts. Finding the one she wanted, a number she hadn’t needed to call in a year at least, she punched it in with impatient fingers and waited for someone to pick up.

After a few rings, the deep voice of a man came on. “Maxie, is that you? It’s been a while.”

“Hey Bert,” she said in greeting. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” She supposed, to a human like Bert, a year would seem like a lengthy amount of time. “Look, I don’t have a lot of free time at the moment, so I’ll cut to the chase,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. If it were possible for vampires to get headaches, she knew she’d of had the biggest of them all. “I’m going to require your services. The alley behind my bar has gotten a bit… cluttered. I need it cleaned, quickly and quietly.”

She could hear him chuckling over the line. “That so? How cluttered are we talking?”

“Three. Messy. I’m pretty sure I remember your usual rates, I’ll pay them without complaint.”

“Maxie,” he said. She frowned, not overly fond of the nickname. “You’ve helped me in the past, right? We’re buddies. I’ll give you a discount.”

She was unsure whether he was playing some sort of angle, but at the moment she didn’t care. She’d received a text earlier that evening from someone wanting to move some goods, and they were going to be arriving any minute.

“Fine, Bert. Thank you. When can you clean this up by? I need this mess gone as soon as possible,” she stated. “...I really appreciate you doing this for me,” she added as an afterthought. There was no need to be rude, after all.

“Yeah yeah, no problem. By tomorrow night you won’t even know there was ever a mess to begin with.” With that he hung up, and Max dropped her phone to the desk.

Only a minute had passed when Emily knocked and peeked her head into the room. “Guy’s here,” she said shortly. “The one you were expecting?”

Max sighed one last time before straightening in her chair. Time to do business. “Thanks, Em. Send him in.”

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

@Rockette Thank you so much! It's amazing. And I love the line from the Vampyre, very nice touch.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Max hasn't been in the city for that long compared to some (just seven years), but she is decently known by anyone who would need a fence's services. And I assume an information broker would have at least some basic information on her, but if/when Dagmar comes into contact with her, I'll leave it up to @Nightwarden to decide how much he knows.

Being a bar owner, I guess she also may be known by any characters that like to drink extensive amounts of alcohol.

In other news, I'm hoping to get my first post up tonight, but I may end up doing so tomorrow depending on how things turn out.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Name/Nicknames:

Maxine Lewis. These days she prefers to go by Max.

Race:

Vampire

Age:

119

Appearance:

Max stands at an average 5’7” and is somewhat thin, with modest curves. Her wavy, dark brown hair falls to the middle of her back, but it is usually kept tied back in a ponytail, if somewhat messily. Her pale green eyes are framed by long, dark lashes. She has fair skin, and is as pale as one might expect from someone who hasn’t seen direct sunlight in almost a century. Despite her age, Maxine still looks like the 26 year old woman she was when she became a vampire.

Maxine prefers to dress casually, and often wears little to no makeup. Despite the frilly lace dresses she wore when she was growing up, she now easily chooses jeans and a loose shirt, often paired with a leather jacket or long coat, and sturdy leather boots. The only hint to her upbringing can be seen in the cameo necklace she wears on a long golden chain. Given to her by her mother when she was just a child, Maxine almost always wears this trinket, though it is often hidden beneath her clothing. Also hidden beneath her clothing is a pistol, most often a glock, and one she can use quite well.

Personality:

Max was never good at pretending to be a proper young lady when she was younger, and stopped bothering to try a long time ago. She is very logical and intelligent, and extremely independent. Max has a dark sense of humor and is extremely prone to dry sarcasm. She’s not one to put up with fools or needless bullshit, and though she isn’t quick to start fights, she is willing to finish them. Max tries to stay calm in all situations and while she is very good at keeping a cool head at stressful or dangerous moments, she can be rather easily angered and annoyed under the right circumstances. Max does not particularly like playing games.

Maxine is no stranger to violence and crime, and isn’t very bothered by most of the happenings in Santa Sombrada. The years have given her a rather detached view of violence, and it no longer fazes her in the slightest. While she tends to be a bit of a loner when not working, she is loyal to those closest to her, and can be rather protective of those she cares about. As someone who owns a bar, she’s also a very good listener.

Bio:

Born in 1896 towards the end of the victorian era, Maxine Lewis was the only child of an upper middle class family living in upstate New York. She had a rather happy childhood, all in all. Maxine was always a bit of a rebellious child, tending to run from the ideals of class and propriety held by her mother and father. Max was one to scuff her new shoes playing with the boys and rip her dresses while climbing trees. Maxine always endured her mother’s scoldings about scraped knees and lost jewelry, giving the expected apologies only to do the same things the next day. Maxine lived with her family until age 22, still unmarried despite her mother’s not so subtle hinting and even less subtle attempts at arranging matches for her. In 1918, sudden tragedy struck as both of Maxine’s parents fell victim to the influenza epidemic that was sweeping the world. Maxine had loved her family dearly despite their constant squabbling, and could not stand to be in their home by herself.

Grief-stricken, Maxine sold the family home and accepted an offer to stay with her father’s brother in New York City. Life in the city gave her the new start she needed, and she was suddenly introduced to a life with far less restrictions. Maxine began to end her time of mourning, and instead embraced the busy city life and her newfound independence as New York made its way into the 20s. Her uncle gave little value to things like propriety and often ran somewhat less than legal operations. The space beneath his store often housed gambling, and as prohibition began the next year, drinking. The speakeasy was quite popular among those who knew it was there, and Maxine was there to help him run things, be it serving drinks or handling the finances. Max quickly became accustomed to the drinking, gambling, and violence that seemed to be commonplace in the city.

Maxine had been living in New York City for just over three years when one of the stranger patrons of her uncle’s speakeasy took a liking to her, and approached her as she was heading home one night. Maxine soon discovered that the slightly deranged man was not even fully human, and before she knew what was happening she suddenly found herself waking up on the city streets, running for cover as the sun rose and having to come to terms with her new life, if you could call it that, as a vampire. The stranger, for she had never learned his name, was gone, and Maxine spent her first few nights terrified and confused by the sudden changes, with no one to help ease the transformation.

She didn’t stay with her uncle for very long after that, and soon left to live on her own, to protect her new secret. It was too difficult to stay under her uncle’s roof at this point, and Maxine was adamant that he never find out she was no longer human. She saw him infrequently after that, eventually stopping when too many years had passed to explain her unchanging appearance. She did return one final time to attend his funeral. She’s spent her years flitting from one city to the nex. She ran with the occasional group of vampires here and there, and slowly became more involved in the night life and underworld crime that could be found in every city. She became a bit of a drifter, never staying in one place for too long, and leaving when things became too intense. By the 50s she had amassed a rather large group of contacts from every place imaginable, and began fencing stolen goods to those who would better appreciate them.

Max moved to Santa Sombrada seven years ago, and has been the owner of a bar called the Steel Thorn for the last five. The Steel Thorn, or Max’s Place as it is occasionally referred to by some of her regulars, may be in one of the more crime-ridden districts of the city, but it isn’t as if there are really any crime-free districts to begin with. Max doesn’t discriminate, and all manner of people, human or otherwise, are often seen in her establishment, though she does try to stay away from gang business as much as is possible when one lives in Santa Sombrada. She’s no newcomer to running bars, and the room in the back provides the perfect place for her to work at her somewhat less legal job. Max has a good reputation among certain crowds for being an excellent fence. While those closest to Max as well as many of her connections are fully aware of her less than human status, she does not openly advertise this fact, knowing that it’s smarter to keep it to herself.

Other:

• Max runs her somewhat small bar with the help of her two employees, a young, petite human girl named Emily and the much, much larger yet still human Isaac. One of them is always there to take over when Max needs to deal with her second business.
• Maxine lives in a small apartment less than a block away from her bar, though she often ends up staying the day in her office instead of heading home.
• Max first learned to shoot in the 20s and has developed a rather spot on aim in the decades since then. In addition to always having one gun on her, she has several others she keeps in her apartment. She likes her guns.
• Being a fence and having traveled extensively throughout her life, Max has many connections to people from all walks of life.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Here is my character application, as promised. Hope you like her.

My Hider

Name/Nicknames: Maxine Lewis. These days she prefers to go by Max.

Race: Vampire

Age: 119

Appearance: (picture to come)

Max stands at an average 5’7” and is somewhat thin, with modest curves. Her wavy, dark brown hair falls to the middle of her back, but it is usually kept tied back in a ponytail, if somewhat messily. Her pale green eyes are framed by long, dark lashes. She has fair skin, and is as pale as one might expect from someone who hasn’t seen direct sunlight in almost a century. Despite her age, Maxine still looks like the 26 year old woman she was when she became a vampire.

Maxine prefers to dress casually, and often wears little to no makeup. Despite the frilly lace dresses she wore when she was growing up, she now easily chooses jeans and a loose shirt, often paired with a leather jacket or long coat, and sturdy leather boots. The only hint to her upbringing can be seen in the cameo necklace she wears on a long golden chain. Given to her by her mother when she was just a child, Maxine almost always wears this trinket, though it is often hidden beneath her clothing. Also hidden beneath her clothing is a pistol, most often a glock, and one she can use quite well.

Personality:

Max was never good at pretending to be a proper young lady when she was younger, and stopped bothering to try a long time ago. She is very logical and intelligent, and extremely independent. Max has a dark sense of humor and is extremely prone to dry sarcasm. She’s not one to put up with fools or needless bullshit, and though she isn’t quick to start fights, she is willing to finish them. Max tries to stay calm in all situations and while she is very good at keeping a cool head at stressful or dangerous moments, she can be rather easily angered and annoyed under the right circumstances. Max does not particularly like playing games.

Maxine is no stranger to violence and crime, and isn’t very bothered by most of the happenings in Santa Sombrada. While she tends to be a bit of a loner when not working, she is a loyal friend to those closest to her, and can be rather protective of those she cares about. As someone who owns a bar, she’s also a very good listener.



Bio:

Born in 1896 towards the end of the victorian era, Maxine Lewis was the only child of an upper middle class family living in upstate New York. She had a rather happy childhood, all in all. Maxine was always a bit of a rebellious child, tending to run from the ideals of class and propriety held by her mother and father. Maxine lived with her family until age 22, still unmarried despite her mother’s not so subtle hinting and even less subtle attempts at arranging matches for her. In 1918, sudden tragedy struck as both of Maxine’s parents fell victim to the influenza epidemic that was sweeping the world.

Grief-stricken by the sudden loss of her parents, Maxine sold the family home and accepted an offer to stay with her father’s brother in New York City. Life in the city gave her the new start she needed, and she was suddenly introduced to a life with far less restrictions. Her uncle gave little value to things like propriety and as prohibition began the next year, the space beneath his store was transformed into a speakeasy, with his niece to help him run things. Maxine began to end her time of mourning, and instead embraced the busy city life and her newfound independence as New York made its way into the 20s.

Maxine had been living in New York City for just over three years when one of the stranger patrons of her uncle’s speakeasy took a liking to her, and approached her as she was heading home one night. Maxine soon discovered that the slightly deranged man was not even fully human, and before she knew what was happening she suddenly found herself waking up on the city streets, running for cover as the sun rose and having to come to terms with her new life, if you could call it that, as a vampire.

She didn’t stay with her uncle for very long after that, and soon left to live on her own, to protect her new secret. She’s spent her years flitting from one city to the next since then. She ran with the occasional group of vampires here and there, and slowly became more involved in the night life and underworld crime that could be found in every city. By the 50s she had amassed a rather large group of contacts from every place imaginable, and began fencing stolen goods to those who would better appreciate them.

Max moved to Santa Sombrada seven years ago, and has been the owner of a bar called the Steel Thorn for the last five. The Steel Thorn, or Max’s Place as it is occasionally referred to by some of her regulars, may be in one of the more crime-ridden districts of the city, but it isn’t as if there are really any crime-free districts to begin with. Max doesn’t discriminate, and all manner of people, human or otherwise, are often seen in her establishment, though she does try to stay away from gang business as much as is possible when one lives in Santa Sombrada. She’s no newcomer to running bars, and the room in the back provides the perfect place for her to work at her somewhat less legal job. Max has a good reputation among certain crowds for being an excellent fence. While those closest to Max as well as many of her connections are fully aware of her less than human status, she does not openly advertise this fact, knowing that it’s smarter to keep it to herself.

Other:

• Max runs her somewhat small bar with the help of her two employees, a young, petite human girl named Emily and the much, much larger yet still human Isaac. One of them is always there to take over when Max needs to deal with her second business.
• Maxine lives in a small apartment less than a block away from her bar, though she often ends up staying the day in her office instead of heading home.
• Max first learned to shoot in the 20s and has developed a rather spot on aim in the decades since then. In addition to always having one gun on her, she has several others she keeps in her apartment.
• Being a fence and having traveled extensively throughout her life, Max has many connections to people from all walks of life.

I may be adding to it a bit later, but here it is.