Big Trouble in Little Chi-Town

[Chase]

A bell chimed as an exhausted teenager opened the doors of Pendan's Coffee House, welcoming the customer to the humble diner. His dark locks reflected the hours spent near the motorcycle helmet he held under his arm as he nodded to the hostess.

"Table for two, please," Chase said, zipping off his sweatshirt. The cool day had demanded it, but now that he was out of the wind there was no need for the pale brown zip-up. "A friend will be joining me soon."

"Right this way, sir," the blond said, grabbing two menus and the list of lunch specials. She seated him in a small booth near one of the large windows that allowed for him to see the city view. "Your server will be here in a moment."

"Thanks," he replied distractedly as he pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his recent texts, he double checked that he was in the right location. Chicago, 12th and Cherub Lane, coffee joint. Check. He returned his phone to his pocket and glanced around the room. A recent text from this Casey figure asked him to assist a local hunter, with directions to the Windy City. The other hunter didn't seem to have arrived yet. Customers were few and littered throughout the room. Mostly couples, Chase noted. The only lone one sat at the bar, flipping through a newspaper.

Whoever this hunter was, Chase hoped he'd get there soon. His fingers impatiently tapped against the wooden surface of the table. Unsure of how reliable Casey was, for all he knew this entire "help the hunter" gig could be giant a waste of time. If that turned out to be the case, Chase would be pissed. The entire night had been spent getting here, with only an hours rest at a cheap motel. He was exhausted and the last thing he needed was a hoax of a mission.

Hazel eyes drifting out the window, Chase reserved himself to people watching on the busy street. He'd give this hunter an hour to show up. After that, he'd send a "nice" text back to Casey and leave the city a forgotten memory.

[Casey]

“Fill ‘er up, if you’d kindly,” He held the coffee cup up to the waitress. If anyone else would have said it she’d probably spit in his cup. Thankfully he had charm and a foreign accent.

“Sure thing,” she smiled and poured until the cup was full.

“Thank ya ma’am,” he lowered his sunglasses and gave her a wink. The waitress smiled flattered and touched her hair before going to her other customers. He figured he’d probably made the fine girls day, or hour if she got worn down by her career. Old gals need some friendly flirting too.

He nursed the mug and he continued flipping through his paper. Most of it was useless junk but it took up time. At the bell jingle and he looked at the reflective metal above the window to the kitchen. Tall kid walked in with a weight on his shoulder that was from more than just a long drive. Probably the one he was looking for.

After he sat down, he closed his paper, stood and walked over. He picked up the second menu and handed it to a waitress walking bye.

“Won’t be needing this deary,” he smiled, “mind handing this to a fellow who might require it.” The waitress blinked blankly at him but took the menu none the less.

He sat in the chair across from the other hunter, “May want to tone it down Boy ‘O. Your gonna scare off bunny slippers if you angst any harder.” Taking a sip from his coffee he smiled again, “So assuming you’re here for what you’re here for, I should be asking your name seeing as we will be working together. Best be telling me it. Most of you lot don’t seem to like the names I make up for you."

[Chase]

Chase's attention returned to the present as the man who had occupied the sole bar seat slid into the chair in front of him. He eyed the man carefully. "Funny."

As the stranger, the hunter, he assumed, continue talking, Chase found himself amused by the thick accent that rolled off the older man's tongue. Regardless of what the hunt was, the teen could tell this would be one of his more interesting collaberations.

"Brink. Chase Brink," he casually replied, lifting a mock drink in the air. "Pleasure to meet you..." Chase paused, waiting for the man to supply a name. "...shall I refer to you as a Scottish comrade?"

Sitting up straighter, Chase prepared himself for the business at hand. "So, Casey mentioned you needed my help. Ghost? Vampire? Demonic possesion? What are we up against?"

[Casey]

“Sylus,” He raised his mug as well before taking a sip/

He laughed at Chase’s guess, “Be thankful you said that to me and not some crotchety fellow. I’m Irish. Just to give you some perspective this is an Irish person talking to you, Hello, how are you. This is a Scottish,” he dropped his voice down and drew out the hard syllables, “Where’s me some Haggis?”

Laughing at his own joke, he rubbed the side of his temple and muttered something about the lights being bright before turning back to the younger hunter, “Nah, nuffin’ like that. We’re going after an artifact, it’s got a few days before it goes nuclear,” he paused and looked of discretely taking another drink, “I think.”

[Chase]

Chase gave a small chuckle at Sylus's impression of a Scott, bemused by the impression. Underneath though, instinct pointed out another fact about the scroungy-looking man.

While hunting did take a toll on those who weren't really made for the job, Chase knew something different was afoot. The odd comment, misplaced humor, and verbal confessions of self-doubt set off a red flag. "Sylus," the corner of his mouth hinted at a frown. "As much as I would like to help you out, I think you need to get some personal assistance first."

With that, Chase rose from his seat. He picked up his motorcycle helmet, wiping off a smudge he hadn't noticed earlier. "Call me when you're not hung over, and then we'll tackle your artifact problem." Waste. Of. Time.

[Casey]

“Nothing wrong with my personals,” He smiled, “besides I have yet to meet a hunter worth his weight that hasn’t taken to the drink. That said, I don’t drink because I’m a hunter, I drink because I’m Irish, and I can assure you I am more than capable of handling a hunt. If I were drunk that would be another matter, but I was drunk last night now I’m just hung over.”

He took another sip of coffee and looked over his glasses at Chase, “You should know better than to judge people on first meetings boy ‘O.”

[Chase]

Chase stared at the man, deep in thought. Yes, people were never what they initially seemed to be. First impressions were the ones he could automatically throw out when investigating a lead. First impressions were what people wanted you to believe they were. Tricky ones bet ten bucks you would.

Maybe Sylus had more merit than he let on. "Fine. But if you become a dead weight, don't expect me to wait for you to catch up, alright?"

Chase returned to his seat, still warm from moments before. "Where do we start?"

[Casey]

He didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face as Chase sat down. Setting the mug down, he held onto the rim lightly and slide it so it was perfectly in front of him.

“There may be some hope for you yet,” he tilted his head back and observed the boy, “And the day I become dead weight is the day I’m dead. I try and avoid that quite avidity, so here’s to hoping that doesn’t become a concern.”
He fished out some cash from a worn brown leather wallet, “You getting anything or should I pay up and part?”

“After we’re done here, we take a quick journey to the museum. We buy access like any other civi, then I show you where the artifact is housed. You get a quick two to scope it out, then we find somewhere with less individuals so I can tell you the rest of the plan,” he gestured calmly to Chase, “Like the sounds of that?”

[Chase]

After a moment’s decision, Chase shook his head no. He had glanced at the back the menu a guest nearby held, and none of the entrees would fit his unique diet. “I’ll just grab something later on.” He had some energy bars in his biked, stashed away for emergencies where he needed that extra kick to keep him going.

Not to mention he had passed that orchard on the far outskirts of town. Surely they wouldn't notice an apple or three missing.

He listened closely to Sylus’s plan, head tilted slightly. “Sure. Quick and easy. Almost makes me wonder why you needed my help, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.” Easy was the only real myth in his world. The only thing that didn’t exist. “You got a ride I can follow to the museum?”

[Casey]

“Suit yerself,” he dropped the money for his coffee on the table. He stood and took a few seconds to drain the liquid remaining in the cup. It was hot and the mug had been almost full but he saw no point in wasting what he’d paid for. Wiping his mouth with his jacket he signaled for Chase to ollow him out of the diner.

The Chicago wind had a certain amount of nip to it and he felt as though he’d been spoiled by the fairer climates in the States. Last week he had been in Texas and barely convinced himself to his favorite jacket, now he wished he had two. Even now the weather was warmer than that of Ireland. Yep, definitely spoiled.

“Or so it sounds,” He grumbled shielding his eyes from the sun, “Windy and it’s bloody shining. I’m about to be over this town.”

He glanced at Chase, “Yeah I gotta ride but the destination is reasonable to walk to. So we can either do that or pay for parking there. Your choice Mr.Brink.”

[Chase]

"Walking is fine. No need to waste money on formalities," Chase replied as he put his jacket back on. Quickly zipping to his chest, the teen turned toward the motorcycle parked in the first spot. "One moment." He paced over to his ebony ride and placed the helmet in the saddle back in the bag. The wind bit his neck as he stood back up, causing him to involuntarily glance in the nearest mirror.

At least Chase knew messy hair would let him blend in on the streets.

Grabbing the energy bar from another pocket, he returned to where Sylus waited at the corner. "You think this is bad? Try Milwaukee in the winter. Not even a motorcycling jacket could stop the frostbite." Bad memories. And a place he would never inhabit during the latter half of the year ever again. "Lead the way."

[Casey]

He nodded and started off toward the museum. The kid was smart enough to follow without prompting or so he hoped. To distract himself from the wind he chuckled at the fact Chase had checked his reflection. Kid may have been a fine hunter, and he still had to prove that of course, but he was still a kid with all those teenager concerns. Did the hilarity never end in this country?

“Never said it was bad,” the lightness of laughter leaking into his voice, “Just ain’t partial to the less forgiving climates. Rather be in the lower states but spooks tend to avoid what is preferable.”

As the neared the end of the block he stopped and waited for the signal to change. To cut out some of the tension he figured he’d atleast get to know something about his backup. Without looking at him he asked, “So where are you from Mr. Brink?”

[Chase]

Chase admired the fact that Sylus was able to keep the conversation relatively light. After a long string of hunts, it was nice to just to relax in the moment. "Jersey," he replied loosely. "But I don't really know much about it. I've been on the move most of my life. You probably understand that."

Childhood was a blurred memory for him. It mainly consisted of following closely behind numerous hunters and learning the tools of the trade. He'd never had much of a choice with his life, but it didn't matter. Hunting ran in the family, or so he was often told. Whether it was an innate desire to feel closer to the parents he never knew or just accepting the role Fate knocked him into, protecting innocents from harm was his purpose in life. Nothing would change that.

The walk light turned green, and Chase steppped off the sidewalk. "So tell me about Ireland. What's the most common haunt?"

[Casey]

“I suppose I can well enough,” He scratched under his chin, “Ain’t the first hunter pup I’ve run across.”

He stepped off the curb and followed Chase, “Been a while since I was back there. Lovely place though, lots of space and kindest people I’ve had the fortune to meet. Full of piss and vinegar that lot but kind in their own way. Me and mates used to go to a couple of the towns pubs, I say a couple because there was only the two, and then wander around. Honestly the place I grew up was nothing extraordinary, boring mostly unless something was going on. Nothing went on though. Happened to passer through when I finished school and being the newest thing since my cousin’s baby I took to following him. Saw him take out a monster and talked him into letting me continue following him. He said it was blackmail but it got me out of there. When he passed I decided to become a world traveler of sorts.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck, “Guess that’s more than what you asked for.”

[Chase]

He soaked in every word that Sylus said, committing it to memory. While the question was merely a formality, it was still a good habit to keep a mental record of everyone he met in the back of his mind.

Chase never knew when a small detail could raise a major problem. One of his past accomplices, a man named Smithers, had stumbled into the hunting realm when demons attacked the bar his father worked at. Smithers had helped a close by hunter take care of the problem, then followed the man's footsteps into the dangerous world. Unfortunately, the mate of the demon the two had killed years earlier clawed its way out of Hell for revenge. Chase had been with Smithers the day before...well...the demon caught up with him.

So he made it a habit to keep such information tucked neatly away in the back of his mind.

"Is that the museum there?" Chase asked, noting a rather large building ahead to the right. Rather obvious question, but the buildings all started to look the same from town to town.