Teagan’s Wednesday afternoon odd encounter(Teagan)

Date: 2025-11-26 14:13

(Teagan’s Wednesday afternoon odd encounter(Teagan):Teagan)

[Wed Nov 26 2025]

At At The Brine Pool Lounge – Main Bar Area
The main bar resembles the hold of an old whaling vessel: beams of dark oak, low ceilings hung with rusted lanterns, and rigging ropes stretching across the space. The bar itself is carved from shipwreck timber, with brass foot rails and a bar top inlaid with a map of the Atlantic and scattered whaling routes. Glowing brine–green lighting from beneath gives the bar a submerged, otherworldly aura.

Behind it, shelves sit inside the frame of a massive harpoon rack, now used to display vintage bottles, tiki mugs shaped like old rum casks, and relics like spyglasses, sextants, and scrimshaw carvings.

It is about 55F(12C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Elm and Sidney

(Your target discovers a young vampire who has accidentally killed their first victim while feeding. Panicked and covered in blood, they beg for help disposing of the body before the vampire courts discover their loss of control and execute them for breaking the Masquerade.)

Obadiah walks into the main bar with Teagan and takes his spot behind the bar, starting to go through the receipts and payroll for the last week. “Sometimes I wonder if I should just use my home office as my, you know, office. It is nice to run everything out of here though.”

It’s still quite early as far as bar hours go, but quite late as far as ‘how far into the day’ it is. But it’s rapidly approaching full winter and the sun does not make itself known as often or for as long as one might like.

While Obadiah gets settled in for his work, Teagan claims the nearest stool on the other side of the bar and pulls out her laptop. “I guess it depends on if the den works for my desktop once I set it up or if I need to convince you to let me take over your office.” She’s teasing… probably.

Meanwhile, there are some clattering sounds from the back. Not OUT BACK, but certainly that direction. Where storage of things not food-related might be found. A quiet clattering, but still: there shouldn’t, in theory, be anyone back there right now. It sounded like a broom or mop getting knocked over.

Obadiah looks up when he hears the clatter and looks over to his bartender, “Did you hear that?” He squints off in the direction of the back room. “Probably just Ricky,” he adds to Teagan with a breath before turning back to his work.

Something nags at him though. Ricky would be cursing up a storm if he dropped something. The head cook of the Brine Pool lounge was notorious for swearing like a sailor and having the temper of a boatswain. That noise wasn’t Ricky. He glances back to the bartender and makes a jerking motion with his head, “Go check it out,” he grumbles before looking to Teagan, “Can I get you anything? On the house. I know the owner.”

The bartender heads into the back, muttering that it likely was just Ricky. Maybe they just didn’t hear the swearing?

Teagan watches him go, then looks back to Obadiah with a flash of a grin. “Do you now?” She props up her chin in her palm, elbow on the bar. Other hand hovers over her keyboard briefly. “Well, don’t tell him I said anything, but I think he’s really quite cute.” She winks, before adding: “Honestly? Just something with caffeine right now.”

As Teagan leans back with a brief yawn to get back to work, there’s a shout from the back: “Boss! You’re gonna wanna get back here.”

Obadiah nods to Teagan and is in the middle of pouring her a cup of black coffee, probably used for Irish Coffees or Cowboy Coffee, or some other off label drink when the bartender gives his shout. He finishes pouring for her though, and slides it across the bar, smiling to her, “There you go. I am going to go check this out.” With that he throws a bar towel over his shoulder and moves towards the back door, grumbling something about someone getting knifed.

“Thanks, babe,” Teagan says of the coffee, moving her laptop aside so she can wrap her hands around it. There is a glance toward the door in mild concern, but she leaves him to it. Bar things. Outside her wheelhouse.

The bartender waits in the kitchen, not far from the back hall. He looks decidedly unsettled. Upset. Unhappy. “It’s Ricky,” he says in a voice that implies it’s not Ricky in the way either of them had thought, initially. And then Obadiah is near enough, he’ll see a pair of booted legs sticking into the hall from the storage closet, along with a fallen broom handle. And while watching? Those legs disappear back inside. Not swiftly, no. Slowly, dragged, heels of boots thump-skipping along the floor a couple of times. One gets caught on the broom handle and there’s a quiet, feminine grunting before they disappear inside completely.

“Fuck me,” Obadiah says pulling out his switchblade from his pants and opening it with a flick of his wrist. He looks back over his shoulder and says, “Go wait with Teagan yeah? And if I need help you guys can come running or you can get her out of here.”

Feminine grunting and disappearing legs can only mean a couple of things, neither of which the Mercer really wants to deal with today but Ricky, dear sweet Ricky, seems to be having a tough go of it and so he needs to investigate the situation. He moves forward though, cautiously, but also he hasn’t shifted so his boots clack on the hardwood floors.

Considering all the chatter and the fact that they’re cornered: whoever is in that room is likely on very high alert for anyone approaching. And may very well have enhanced senses of some kind. Especially as they call out: “Stay back or… or Teagan will get it!” On the up side, the threat does not sound remotely threatening. It’s panicked. Whoever is in there — she sounds young — is afraid more than anything.

The bartender gives the doorway and Obadiah both a dubious look, but does as told (better than dealing with it himself) and returns to the front of the bar. Likely to fill Teagan in on what’s going on. And convince her staying put with her coffee is the better idea.

Once Obadiah does get to the door, he will see what he’d rather not, surely: Ricky is dead. The cook lies in a pool of his own blood. The source of the wound is bloody obvious as his neck looks like a dog took to it and rent him open. Or… a vampire. Because crouched beyond Ricky’s body, in the midst of cleaning supplies, boxes of equipment, crouches a girl in her late teens who is covered in blood herself with fangs still apparent. “I… I mean it! Stay back or else!”

Obadiah’s Order. This is a pretty textbook scenario. Young Vampire. Accidental kill. Got stuck without an exit strategy. But a cornered animal is a dangerous one.

Obadiah sighs when he sees the scene. As a reveler in the Court (should probably be a mask hunter, but that is another issue) and personal knight to the Spider Queen, this is not an unusual situation for him, or at least not the first time he has been called in for cleanup on aisle nine. Perhaps the first time it has happened in his bar, but that is another conversation for another day.

He puts the blade back in his pocket for now. Knives aren’t going to solve the situation, and if it gets out of hand he would want something more powerful anyway. “Whoa there,” he admonishes. “Do you even know who Teagan is?” the important questions. “What’s your name anyway? I am Obie. Looks like you were feeling a little peckish.”