View source for Logs:A Rabid Dog and a Fuckin' Asshole Walk Into a Pakistani Restaurant...

{{Log 
| content-warning= implication of food insecurity, crime, discussion of organized crime
| cast= [[Simon Dubois]], [[Calamity]]
| setting= a fancy as fuck Pakistani restaurant
| log=
Another week, another text from Calamity to Simon, letting him know they've got intel. But they ask a question this time - '''does it have to be in your car?''' Either way, the streets they text Simon (or Simon's bodyguard) this evening are on the other side of Hunting Park.


''Do you have a preference on where to meet other than the car?''


'''parks<br>
'''restaurants<br>
'''im sure u know private places to eat


Calamity gets sent an address--which is for a fairly ritsy restaurant.


It takes them a little while to show up. They maybe went home and put on a slightly less worn pair of pants, and their ever-present sweatshirt is tied around their waist, over a t-shirt with some comic book character on. It's clean, at least.

Probably doesn't stop the host at the door from giving them a hard time, unless Simon's already there and has informed them that some scruffy youth is gonna show up, and yes, they're supposed to be here.


No one stops Calamity from going in, so... yeah, odds are the host has been warned.

It's a fancy as fuck Pakistani fusion place, the smell of spices thick in the air. The host shows Calamity to a table in a back room where Simon is sitting, a plate of food already placed out in front of him, half eaten. He wasn't going to wait for Calamity to get there to order, it seems. A bottle of wine as well, which he's pouring into a glass to refill as Calamity walks in. "Have a seat."


Calamity doesn't bother to hide their curiosity at this place, their gaze wandering all over as they take in the rich atmosphere and the smell of spices. They sink down in the chair across from him and set their elbows on the table.

"Expected something like...French. 'S place is...nice." Another glance around, and they shift in their seat. "You trust no one's gonna listen?"


"I enjoy a wide variety of food," he says as he slowly, carefully eats, savoring each bite. "We have our own room." All the other tables there are empty--without the host and waitresses around, they have privacy. "Elbows off the table."
Calamity is handed a menu before the host leaves though!


That gets an eye roll, and Calamity sits back in their seat with a huff.

"You look into that bus for me?" they open the menu, scoffing quietly as they look through it.


It all looks pretty fancy... but tasty.

"I'm still working on that. There's a lot of traffic camera feeds to go through."


"Mmmh." Calamity seems satisfied with the response, their eyes still on the menu for a few seconds before they set it down, prompting the server to scurry over. Calamity looks them over quickly (seriously, do they just...size up everyone they meet?) before ordering a lemonade and the rest of their meal.

"Did a little more digging about the whole...situation with the Irish and Italians..." they mutter after the server's left. "Two guys who just got whacked were the triggermen in that hit on the Italians in Harrowgate. Dude named Sean McCarthy's in on it too, he's got friends in high fuckin' places...an' I guess it's all 'cause some gang in Tioga switched sides? So McCarthy an' Tiny Manzianni were all up in arms, but now Tiny's dead too, so..." Calamity shrugs. "Who knows if it ends here."


Simon listens to this quietly, attentively--but it doesn't stop him from eating. He does pause at the end, though. "Hm. Tiny is dead? Interesting. What do you know about this Sean McCarthy?"


"He's -" Calamity pauses as the server returns with their lemonade, and they take a long sip. "He's pretty high up in K an' A. An enforcer, 's got family in the police. Prob'ly who Barrows an' Callaghan were working for, in Harrowgate. 'S about it."


He chews over another bite for a long moment, then nods. "You've done very well this week, Mx. Calamity. I'm impressed."


Calamity gives Simon a searching look, as if they're trying to see whether he really means it. "...Thanks." A beat. "I...got the name of JBM's main gun guy, too. Dom Blevins."


Simon isn't ever really easy to read, but... he seems to mean it...?

That seems to get his attention as well, though. He looks thoughtful a moment, then nods. "Hm, very good. Someone to get in touch with."


"Dunno 'f he's like...directly involved in all this bullshit, he's gotta lotta people under him t'give orders to, but...'m sure he knows what's goin' on. 'F he doesn't he's a fuckin' idiot."


"Of course," he agrees, reaching for his wine to sip down. "Anything else?"


Calamity's food arrives about then, and they shake their head.

"'S all I got. You got more you wanna know?"


"Not currently," he replies, though after taking several seconds to consider it. "Just let me know if you hear of any major changes on the street level. I think it's about time I start doing some digging of my own."


"Sure. Still wanna know what you find about that bus, too..." Calamity pauses to eat. They eat like they're afraid someone's gonna take their food away.


"I'll have some information to you soon, I'm sure." He sips his wine while watching Calamity eat. "Do you not get enough food on a regular basis?"


"...I eat fine, why?" Their mouth is kinda full of food, and they narrow their eyes at him suspiciously.


"You have horrendous table manners," he says plainly. "You look like a starving, rabid dog."


"...An' you're a fuckin' asshole, but I don't go around sayin' it..." Calamity raises their eyebrows.


He shrugs, undisturbed. Then slips a hand into his jacket to pull out a small stack of bills--this week's pay day. He sets it on the table in front of Calamity.


Calamity eyes the money hungrily, but they manage not to snatch it off the table. It disappears quickly, into some pocket or other, before they finish eating. Just as quickly.

"Lemme know what you find out about the bus," they say as they stand. "I'll text you if anything major comes up."


"As will I," he replies with a lift of his chin. "Have a good evening."


Calamity lifts a hand to wave, and they trot away, pulling a battered pack of cigarettes out of their pocket as they reach the door.

}}