Blood On The Rocks (Catherine/Doku)

Wednesday was always such a dull day in the week, it wasn't dreadful like Monday, or exciting like Friday was. When it came to bars, Wednesday was always a slow day, the same was true for Yatagurasu, the people of Tokyo's (least) favorite bar on the side of town. It was approaching, around 7 pm. Inside were only around 3 customers, a dealer in the back with a client, and a middle-aged man drunkenly drinking alone by the door. Doku had lost count of what number he was at, but his tab was gonna be a good chunk of change... maybe he should cut him off...

Bleh, that meant conflict, plus Doku needed all the business he could get today. It's not like the man drove here or anything, so the bartender felt less guilty about letting him drink away. Doku knew the guy, he was in his forties, just gotten divorced, and was a regular, probably best to give him some space and let him drink his worries away.

The dinky lights hanging from a small window next to the door flickered "Open" while emitting a soft buzzing sound, which could be heard throughout the bar, on a busy day this buzzing would be drowned out. Doku from behind the counter was cleaning up some cups as he stared tiredly at the clock, watching the minutes slowly tick by. Tonight was going to be a long one, and he was considering closing up early for the day. Maybe catch up on that new RPG? Finish that romance manga? Honestly, there was a lot he could do to waste away his Wednesday.

A tired hand pushed the door open, the soft bzzt in her ear announcing her presence being rather unsavory to the tired hunter. An experimental weapon was tied to her back, teeth jutting from it's bloody frame, marred with as much red as it's user. This was probably the only bar in all of Japan she could go to covered in body fluids.

Trudging inside, a notably strong iron scent followed, alongside a hint of distasteful smells that couldn't precisely be named; it was unpleasantly strong but not quite gag-worthy, somewhere between vinegar and ammonia.

"Oy, Fischer." Her tired voice rolled out, "Got a shower I can use? Feel close to ripping my skin off with all the ick. Put together the usual, and yes I want the bottle."

What a shitty night. Least the client looked pleased enough with the torn remains.

The calmness of the bar would come crashing down as soon as that door opened. Almost as soon as that smell traveled around the bar, all eyes were directly on Catherine, the dealers (who usually were always dead-focused on business) even looked towards her. Loud gags began echoing from the few customers, in sync with one another.

The poor bartender was crying, as the smell was that unpleasant. Honestly, were it not Catherine he would have already thrown them out of the bar. The woman was a regular, and there was pleasant conversation when she was around so he tolerated her. Without a second thought, he pointed towards a small staircase located in the back, around a small corner.

"You smell like shit. My apartment is up there. Please throw your clothes out of the window. You can steal anything from my closet..."

With that, he would swiftly head for the bottle she requested, an entire bottle of Gin, placing it on the counter alongside a small glass. He was putting a lot of trust into the woman, letting her into his apartment, he had valuables in there. Doku was pretty trusting, he respected the regulars and felt they gave him the same respect.

Unfortunately the ramifications of letting her upstairs would set in. Was that smell going to linger in this bathroom? Or worse... his living room? God rest his soul.

"Yeah, and you look like shit. Understood." A twitch of the brow and a brief scan of the room were the only things she had the energy to give, being rather preoccupied resisting the desire to scratch herself as she stiffly got herself up the stairs and ensuring no blood or fluids tracked inside, disappearing up the steps.

It took roughly an hour and a half of cleaning, having the tools to properly deal with the smell and stains that she may leave behind, until she finally had her damp clothing pulled of as much water as she could get out with her Fullbring, calmly returning down the stairs in her damp uniform that obscured all but her hands and head, calmly sitting at the bar looking and smelling remarkably better.

"Weapon trial went REAL south," She'd loose the complaint as she poured herself a glass and started downing, "Forever burned in to never use a motorized sawblade on a soft-bodied bubblebutt else the nasty'll explode everywhere... Least I got paid for taking it out. All these dumb bastards ever want are masks or claws for their 'trophies'. I will never understand rich people."

As if on demand, she had the amount for the bottle down to the cent slid to Doku, taking another go, "What you gonna just sit there and gawk? Say something."

Classic Catherine, the bartender knew when to just ignore her remarks. Thankfully in that hour and a half, the smell dissipated (partially thanks to the two cans of air freshener Doku used), he paused and made sure to finish up helping the remaining customers, finishing up their orders. The dealer and his client left soon after. Leaving Doku, Catherine, and the divorced man. As her heard the door to his apartment open and someone walking down the stairs, he turned his head to watch Catherine return from the shower.

He would listen to her story, one of his skills taking note of the details she shared. "Gawk? You're... not really my type. Maybe after I drink a few you will be" A soft chuckle escaped as he took a sip of the Gin. His face reacted to the strong punch, cringing a little as he looked at the bottle. "You know this shit is like 90 proof right?"

Regardless she sighed and shook his head, pouring another shot quickly throwing it back. "So why do you use that sawblade?" He would use his own fullbring, holding his hand outward as some purple strands of Reishi manifested a revolver in Doku's head. "Why not just use a gun? I know a guy who can hook you up"

After that, he would make the gun dissolve into Reishi. "Rich people don't make sense. Had a dude last night. Cheating on his wife with a lady in the back booth. He tipped me 200,000 Yen to keep quiet."

"Damn I sure hope i'm not attractive to you outside of being shitfaced, i'd be sick." Leaning over the counter, her arm rested on it with the other swirling a glass as Doku came in to pour himself one. She put down another shot without even so much as a flinch when the young man flinched and pointed out the content of the drink, causing her tired eyes to roll, "Yeah, and perfume's made of whale shit. I can grow ten new livers in the time it'd take for yours to fail."

She poured herself another drink, hardly caring about the taste - she just wanted to buzz at the end of it all, and she was comfortable getting drunk here; Doku was both parts unproblematic and on the same wavelength as her at times, two things that were easy to work with and therefore wouldn't catch her ire or her paranoia.

"It was a weapon test, I just made it field-ready. Unfortunately, the field gave me the worst possible first subject to try it on. Probably will pick around for a job involving a Hollow made of harder stuff; it's supposed to tear through flesh no problem while being lightweight and maneuverable."

Her eyes narrowed into slits with that insinuation that her equipment wasn't up to snuff, "I use whatever the fuck I make, Fischer. No weapon's better than mine when it comes to killing those ravenous bastards, and anyone else can cram it up their shitter."