Despite the late afternoon and setting sun, the heat was still stifling in Newcastle. Spring had been hotter and drier than was normal and there was almost daily coverage from the local news sources on the upcoming summer – wildfires, severe drought, and heatwaves were all a concern.
The small air conditioner in Ricky’s Diner struggled and the booths nestled against smudged windows surrounding it were the first to be taken. Amongst the truckers, salesmen and other transient folk were locals just looking for a reprieve from the heat. The locals knew better than to come to Ricky’s for the food, despite the inviting scents of meat grilling, onions frying and frying oil. The checkered laminated floor was perpetually sticky, as were the stools and the counter and a few years ago there had been several cases of food poisoning linked to the diner though the health authority had never been able to prove anything. The unmistakable sound of a Harley Davidson rumbled over the noise of quiet conversation, the TV over the counter and cutlery scratching against plates. The sound suddenly cut off, as the bike was turned off and moments later the bell above the door jingled as a figure entered Ricky’s.
The man was just under six feet and was dressed roughly. A simple t shirt gave way to a pair of soiled and worn jeans and leather boots that had seen better days. The leather cut the man was wearing was in stark contrast to everything else he was wearing. It gleamed as though it was new and regularly tended to. A sleeve was folder over, holding a pack of smokes. The figure ran a hand through his short brown hair before taking out a smoke and lighting it. Each of you knew who this was. Grant Lawson was a low-ranking member of the Brides of Dracula, a prospect. While he wasn’t a vampire himself, he wasn’t entirely human. The pack had been tracking him for days, hoping to use the man to find an in with the Brides. During that time, you had seen him nearly beat a man to death in a gas station after he had been cut off in traffic. During the altercation, he had been stabbed but had shrugged off the wound. Needless to say the Brides had a reputation within Newcastle and no one complained about the smoke.
Grant made his way up to the counter, leaning on it before banging and yelling for Ricky. A simple set of dog tags dangling from his neck and the cut rode up to reveal a handgun in the man’s waistband. A rotund balding man made his way from the kitchen wearing a dirty singlet and apron both of which would have been white at one point. Ricky made his way to the register and began to count cash.
Players Instructions: Okay, so I posted tonight since I had a bit more time than I thought I would. Each of you are either in the diner or outside and have been for some time. Feel free to post with what you're wearing, wear you are positioned etc.
Ricky's Diner
Grant Lawson:
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