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http://jinxsplayhouse.com/blog/mercer-s-girls
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Gif: https://s26.postimg.org/g92zkoo2x/xen_MAgif.gif
Looking For: Currently looking for musically talented slaves (or those to turn into slaves) to exploit their talent for profit.
Profile: http://xenedria.jcink.net/index.php?act=ST&f=3&t=10244&st=0#entry56038
Plotter: http://xenedria.jcink.net/index.php?act=ST&f=3&t=10244&st=0#entry56038
Age: 27
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Musician
Alias: Jinx
Music: https://www.dropbox.com/s/gu2int8646xfgwl/Fugees%20-%20Killing%20Me%20Softly%20%28Radio%20Edit%29%20HQ.mp3?raw=1
Orientation: Heterosexual
Species: Human
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Joined: 3-February 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Yesterday at 08:22 pm
Local Time: Feb 20 2018, 09:55 AM
374 posts (1 per day)
( 0.49% of total forum posts )
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SKYPE Jinx Vates
Message: Click here
Email: Private
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Mercer Amsterdam

Deviant

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Nov 21 2017, 01:39 PM
People often mistook Mercer's impulsive nature as being stupid. It was true he had a lot of stupid decisions but part of the benefit of being a devious bastard was that you knew how such people thought in generally. That was part of the reason he'd hired the two big Okul security guys for the front door of the bar, and why he was so picky about who worked behind it. But his life wasn't really one that had engendered a whole lot of trust and having witness, and benefited, from the somewhat lax security under the old management he'd decided to keep an eye on things even when he wasn't there. To that end he'd repurposed the manager's old security holo-cameras to cover the liquor storage,complete with a computer program he'd picked up that made sure the current inventory matched what was recorded by the staff (minus whatever he drank himself of course,) and to cover the credit transaction terminal to make sure no one was skimming or trying to hide their tips too blatantly.

He didn't review the footage all that often, not unless the program flagged something as odd. In this case he'd fired up the recording around the time of a transaction that had occurred at the terminal when the bar wasn't even open. It was always possible that Elora or one of the bartenders had needed to pay off a vendor making a delivery and just hadn't had a chance to log it in so as he enjoyed his before noon whiskey he keyed up the recording on his personal com to give it a once over before having a talk with whomever it was. They were likely to get off fairly, he was in a rather good mood after last night, and feeling a bit more optimistic about the world in general. Sure this wasn't exactly what he wanted out of his life, but perhaps Elora was right and as fallback plans were concerned this wasn't so terrible. Could it be he was actually... happy, what did happy feel like precisely?

He was even pretty happy with her at the moment, had even made her a proper breakfast the way he had during those early days. He'd been giddy over his plan working out then and hadn't really given a whole lot of thought to how to handle things going forward; he still didn't, but wasn't so sure any longer that he needed to be. She seemed to be more content that she had and accepting of her life and role--- hell and if last night was any indication even able to enjoy herself on occasion if he did pluck up his ego to say so himself.

"I speak and she appears," he chuckled watching an image of Elora step onto the security feed as he took a couple of sips from his glass. That had been yesterday, he thought a bit darkly, back when those people had been here performing. If you could call it that. Elora had been behind the bar getting things ready for them to open in a couple of hours--- dimly he heard the crash. In his memory he remembered her rushing to his side and sticking up for her 'Master' in the face of the incompetents he'd been cursed with, but as he watched he remembered the old phrase about memories being tiny lies we tell ourselves to make our lives make sense. He watched as Elora stuck a blank credit stick into the terminal withdrew it and then went to his side. But played back that seemed almost like an afterthought, a stop over on her way towards the members of the band he was busy shouting with. She'd stolen... from him! She'd stolen from him and then pretended nothing was the matter at all!

Mercer watched the recording again. Again. Again. His glass of whiskey became three, six, most of the bottle and all the while he felt that little feeling of satisfaction and contentment wither away slithering back under the dark shadows of his mind. Was she planning something against him? Hoping to steal credits overtime... perhaps to pay to get away from him? His jaw ached and he realized he'd been clenching his teeth hard and forced them apart slowly rubbing his unshaven jawline as he worked his chin around in little circles to ease the sensation.

He needed to find out.

(738)

@Elora Sol
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