Something that just hit me randomly after watching Bright and Kekkei Sensen. Just the idea of someone who runs a bar in an open, Urban fantasy setting.
I opened this bar shortly before the breaching, had nothing better to do and always wanted to open up one after the service. I didn’t expect much in the way of unruly or odd clients, that’s for that crowd downtown
Breach changed all that, and me being’ as close as I was in the aftermath and only one who didn’t right care who came in my doors, it put me in a good spot. I quickly started learning who was who, and in some cases who was what.
The sharp dressed bartender nodded over to a corner, “That thirtysomething Hispanic lookin’ lady in the business suit? Were-Tiger with a thing for anime. The lil Asian guy across? Something called a Kodama, works with park services, really in to beatboxing
Everyone has their own little, secrets and such, whether they’re worth knowing or not. For some reason, I end up hearing most of what they are, seems to come with the place. You own a bar, you hear things, funny thing that, booze certainly helps loosen the lips or whatever passes for them with my patrons. You get enough patron or Habu, or Mount Gay in you, even the tightest locks begin to loosen up on those hidden gems.
The way I see it, all secrets end up coming out in the end. They’re the chink in a souls armor, but they’re also a currency, a door opener. Someone gives you a secret in good faith, they’re saying “I trust you” which is an even more valuable currency, and the way you tender that currency is by keeping silent, holding that secret tight. It’s give and take. They get a confident, and you get their trust, maybe an ally.
But yeah, trust. A currency and the act itself carries a power all to itself. The tall Brazillian gal who walked in and a seat knows this, and knows that I won’t blab what she’s entrusted me with, and knows that she has safe harbor here if she needs it. So, she buys her drinks here and tends to nod and smile when i nod her way. If I needed help, she’d give it. No need for coercion, and in return...well, she’s safe here all she needs to do is ask.
That said, breaking the trust you’ve been given, its like setting detonating a bomb in the market square, or whatever catastrophic metaphor ya got. The last time that happened in this bar, five patrons lost their lives, and I was marked by THE Baobhan Sith to have my head and body in different zip codes.
How I got out that is a secret in and of itself, just trust me when I say its better to keep trust close to your chest, rather than let it get broken, or be the cause for it to be broken. Think of it like stocks rather than cash. Shares get you dividends, Cash can just get you killed horribly, and vanish on a bad night.
I opened this bar shortly before the breaching, had nothing better to do and always wanted to open up one after the service. I didn’t expect much in the way of unruly or odd clients, that’s for that crowd downtown
Breach changed all that, and me being’ as close as I was in the aftermath and only one who didn’t right care who came in my doors, it put me in a good spot. I quickly started learning who was who, and in some cases who was what.
The sharp dressed bartender nodded over to a corner, “That thirtysomething Hispanic lookin’ lady in the business suit? Were-Tiger with a thing for anime. The lil Asian guy across? Something called a Kodama, works with park services, really in to beatboxing
Everyone has their own little, secrets and such, whether they’re worth knowing or not. For some reason, I end up hearing most of what they are, seems to come with the place. You own a bar, you hear things, funny thing that, booze certainly helps loosen the lips or whatever passes for them with my patrons. You get enough patron or Habu, or Mount Gay in you, even the tightest locks begin to loosen up on those hidden gems.
The way I see it, all secrets end up coming out in the end. They’re the chink in a souls armor, but they’re also a currency, a door opener. Someone gives you a secret in good faith, they’re saying “I trust you” which is an even more valuable currency, and the way you tender that currency is by keeping silent, holding that secret tight. It’s give and take. They get a confident, and you get their trust, maybe an ally.
But yeah, trust. A currency and the act itself carries a power all to itself. The tall Brazillian gal who walked in and a seat knows this, and knows that I won’t blab what she’s entrusted me with, and knows that she has safe harbor here if she needs it. So, she buys her drinks here and tends to nod and smile when i nod her way. If I needed help, she’d give it. No need for coercion, and in return...well, she’s safe here all she needs to do is ask.
That said, breaking the trust you’ve been given, its like setting detonating a bomb in the market square, or whatever catastrophic metaphor ya got. The last time that happened in this bar, five patrons lost their lives, and I was marked by THE Baobhan Sith to have my head and body in different zip codes.
How I got out that is a secret in and of itself, just trust me when I say its better to keep trust close to your chest, rather than let it get broken, or be the cause for it to be broken. Think of it like stocks rather than cash. Shares get you dividends, Cash can just get you killed horribly, and vanish on a bad night.
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