xp_logs | MIXTAPE: 'Love Shack

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The used metallic mint green Chrysler bombed down the highway south of Atlanta, the top down and the AC woefully inadequate for the heat. Not that it ever seemed to bother Kevin, who was driving in a full black suit, with red lapels, a violently multi-coloured retro vest and white shoes. With the obviously dyed light orange curls partially slicked back and white framed sunglasses perched on his wrinkled face, he looked like an ex-DJ desperately pretending that it was still the late 80s when he cool and not a man pushing 70. He eased back in the seat, leaning a bit so Clea could hear him over the wind.

"So according to Stacy-X' people, the place is called the Shaque D'Amour. Some kind of geratric hippie retro dancehall meets tiki bar meets swingers retirement community. There's been enough chatter about it from young twenty-somethings at SUNSET that she's not sure if it's trafficking or otherwise coercive to the mutants passing through." He explained. "We'll scope it out and you'll need to scan for magic, just in case."

Clea was enjoying the sun and the wind in her red hair. She matched Kevin's suit with a dress of similar colors and style. Cata was down by her feet, curled up with a tail around one of her legs. Clea opened her eyes when she heard Kevin's voice over the wind and she leaned over more to hear him better and she nodded before turning to face him. "After we scope it out? What then? Same as in Madripoor?"

"Depends. If it's on the up and up, we leave quietly. If not, we gather intel and figure out how to break it." Kevin said, with his weird old man grin. "Stacy and I have similar thoughts about manipulating young mutants for non-consensual sex."

Clea nodded, "Sounds like a plan. Either way, I am getting a road trip out of it." There was a slight pause. "I am sure we all have similar thoughts about that." Clea couldn't feel empathy for arses who would do that to anyone, let alone young mutants. "Can we just...bring the house down with the arses in it? That is a good way to break it."

"If that's what's needed." Kevin said with a nod. He pulled off the highway and down a side road leading deeper into the forest. After a while, he pulled into a grass field turned into a parking lot, full of old cars that made his whale sized one noticeable. The place was a sprawling, slightly shambolic building with a number of ramshackle additions and extensions. The whole thing was tucked under a checkered black and white tin floor, noticeably rusted. "Here's the place."

Clea wrinkled her nose at the site of the building. "Gross. And so far off the beaten path." She looked around at the cars, "No wonder it went under the radar." She pulled out a collar from her purse and put it around Cata's neck as the faerie cat looked up at her. "Am I your young girlfriend for the time being?" The red head tossed her hair over her shoulder to look at Kevin.
“Imply it but don’t confirm it. Makes it easier for us to be approached when we split up.”

"Okay Sugar Daddy." Clea smirked as she opened the car door. Cata was already gone, the collar as well as being a fairy cat had its perks. The witch fixed her dress and checked her makeup one last time, making sure the red lipstick was on perfect. "Shall we? I won't mind an actual drink."

"I'll grab a few and talk to the bartender. You mingle." Kevin said as he opened the door and was greeted with a cacophany of music, drunken carousing and the sounds of a packed dance floor. He ushered Clea in before breaking off towards the bar while looking at the crowd. It was like he'd been told; mostly men and women in their 50s and up, with a sprinkling of younger dancers and hangers-on, a reasonable percentage of which were visible mutants. He approached the vaguely tiki themed bar and the bartender in a hawaiian shirt behind it. "Busy night?"

"This is more the norm, if you can believe it."

Clea scanned the room to take it all in before moving to the opposite side of the room with the seating. She slid right into the booth and placed her little handbag on the table. It was exactly ten seconds before she was approached by an older gentleman.

"May I join you, little lady?" He said over the loud music and placed a drink right in front of her. Clea looked up and with an innocent smile on her face, "Company and a drink. How can a girl say no?" The man chuckled and slid in right in front of her.

"I have some friends." He waved over two more people; an older couple like him. "Do you like to dance? We do."

"I sure do." Clea toyed the undrank drink in front of her but continued to smile at the older man. She moved to stand up, picking up her handbag, and walked towards the dance floor, all the while her fingers were moving, sending out feelers for any pings of magic in use. There was a slight ping but it came from underneath the dance floor. The next song started to play and Clea was in the midst of the packed dance floor, spotting one or two visible mutants within range of her.

Kevin was tracking her from the bar and turned back. The bartender gave him a weird wave. "Look, be honest. How many issues do you have a night?"

"None. Look, I started at Key West. Done bar all over the state. I have never had to pull a baton on anyone." The bartender said, building a large tropical drink. "People are just... I don't know, cool here."

Clea danced for a few songs before she pulled away and made her way to the bar and right next to Kevin. Taking a seat, "Old Fashioned please." She waited until she had her drink in hand and turned to face the crowd. "Nothing. Just a bunch of people having a great time. Maybe something in the surrounding area but nothing here." She said into her drink, but used her magic to allow Kevin to hear her. She took a sip from her drink, "The drinks are delicious though."

"Yeah. Some of the dancers are absolutely accepting money for sex with the old customers but... it's not the house managing it." Kevin sipped from his overblown but admittedly excellent Blue Moon cocktail. "According to the bartender, in the year he's been here he hasn't witnessed a single fight, public argument, booze fueled screaming match. That's not normal. Any place selling booze gets the odd dust up by nature of, well, booze."

"Interesting." Clea's eyes scanned the room again. Watching the people dancing, or talking in their own corners of the bar. "Not a single fight? That..seems out of the ordinary." She took a bigger sip of her drink. "I didn't see security at the front, so, how do they keep the peace?"

"Apparently they don't need to. That screams magic or mutant to me. I'm going to see if I can talk to the owner. You look for magic... whatever." He finished lamely. This was an area that Clea's expertise outstripped his. "Maybe there's a ward or a... something? Whatever. Go look."

Clea finished off the rest of her drink and placed it on the bar and left a nice tip for the bartender. "I'll be back." She got off the stool and fixed her dress before heading to the ladies room. When she entered the room she was pleasantly surprised at how clean it was, "Wow." She whispered before heading into a stall and shutting the door behind her.

Opening her handbag she pulled out a perfume bottle and unscrewed it and placed some of the spell water onto her fingertips to draw another glyph onto the stall door and it glowed faintly before disappearing. Pulling out her phone and sending off a text to Kevin, "Magic is involved. Careful with the owner. Strong ward." She put the top back on her bottle and stuff it back into her purse.

For his part, Kevin returned to the bartender and got a pass to talk to the owner. It didn't require a quiet bribe, already unsettling his normal mode of operation. Instead, he was ushered into a small office next to the room holding all the kegs. A woman in her seventies sat behind a desk, typing into her laptop. She was surrounded by 'Grateful Dead' posters, inspirational posters mostly featuring cats that probably wouldn't hang on until Friday, and peeling band posters. The whole thing screamed a teenager that just missed the height of the sixties and was trying to make up for it.

"Yes?" She said, squinting through her thick but Janis Joplin styled glasses.

"You've warded the place for non-violence, haven't you?" Kevin said flatly. "The bar and the connected hotel."

"Oh? Oh." She sighed and lowered her laptop. "You can tell the little mage in the Ladies Room she can come in and join us." Kevin paused but sent Clea a text to join them.

Clea sighed as she saw Kevin's text and made her way out. It didn't take long for her to be standing right beside Kevin and she looked at the women and around the room. "Hello. You must be the maker of the strong ward. Interesting. Also nicely done with the minimal detection ward."

"I wish. That was my late old man. He was the one that had the head for all this mumbo-jumbo. I was groovin' with the cosmic spirits and the kharma alignments to my chakras when he spun this on me. It was just a little hotel his parents had for years, but the tarpon fishing dried up and no one was renting rooms. So we figured how about a safe space for free love? The commune didn't last long - good at weed and dick, awful at grocery money. But then I hit on the idea of a bar. After he passed, I put out feelers and found the retirement community that had just opened up. Convinced them to come out and party with us."

Kevin's shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh out loud. "So it was your husband?"

"Thought me enough to keep the wards going. Business sense, that was all me. Loved that man but he couldn't make change for a dollar without unzipping his pants to count."

"I see." Clea said, unsure what to make of the situation. "Nothing wrong with free love. As long as it is consenting. And the mutants that are here, they are here on their own free will?"

"Kitten, this place can't make anyone do anything they don't want to." She said as Kevin quietly mouthed 'kitten' back at Clea. "It blocks aggression and violence. That's all."

"No messing with consent? You're sure?"

"As sure as I am the awakened one will allow my blessed reincarnation, baby."

"Alright. Well this Kitten wants another drink." Clea bent down and picked up Cata who appeared at her feet. "You are going to get the next round right, baby?" She smirked slightly at Kevin before leaving the room. If they still wasn't unsure when they left the bar, Clea could always research the ward she saw and make sure it does what the lady says it does.

Kevin paused, watching her leave. "You're just an aging hippy, aren't you?" The look the woman gave her, regardless of her words, told him all he needed. He headed back out to the bar, motioning for a pair of refills as he saw her at the bar. "The place is clear. We can go, unless you want another turn on the dance floor?"

"You owe me a dance." Clea said and nodded, "Then we can head back." She picked up her refilled drink and raised it in a cheers, and then took a long sip.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

xp_daytripper

the place is called the Shaque D'Amour. Some kind of geratric hippie retro dancehall meets tiki bar meets swingers retirement community.

*dies laughing*

This log was delightful. I don't know why, but Clea and Kevin work so bloody well as work partners. And the whole set up was just perfect.

From:

xp_cypher

Well, Love Shack is going to be stuck in my head all day...

I really liked the detective work aspect of this, digging and getting tidbits as they went.

From:

xp_invisible

That description at the start, I can close my eyes and picture them.

That was such a fun log, though I'm gonna have that song stuck in my head for hooooours