He stalked the lower level of Underworld, pacing back and forth and seething. How was he going to get his cash back? His entire sum of money was in that filthy sleaze ball's possession now. Mouse's eyes closed in frustration, teeth grinding together as he stomped down the main hall. I was too trusting. Was it even worth it to try to recover his stuff? Was it even possible to get back in there without the hulking bodyguard ripping his arms off? Maybe he deserved it. This is what you get for practically falling asleep in front of strange bartenders. Idiot. He had snoozed and then, well, losed, as the saying went. He whirled back around and crashed into a flailing, snuffling body.
"Gaaaahhh!" A ghoul was laying on the floor, squirming around and whining pathetically. Mouse knelt by him and touched his shoulder. I've made more physical contact with ghouls in ten minutes than I have my entire life, what's the deal, he thought wryly, his money problems and anger momentarily set aside.
"I'm so sorry, wasn't watching where I was going." Mouse looked at him, concerned. The ghoul looked pretty out of it but he didn't think he'd bumped him that hard. "Hey," Mouse shook him gently. "Hey, you okay, man?"
"Mmmmph. Yeaaaah yeah I'm.. 'm'alright. You're a... harder wall than I ..ffthought." The ghoul sat up and shook his head, fair hair flopping around. "Uuugh, I'll jush..just sit. Right here. For a while." He levered his way up from the floor to the bench that was nearby.
"Are you sure? You seem kind of...uh." Mouse trailed off, not really sure if it was polite to finish what he was thinking.
"Ohhh, no. I'm always a little ... you know." He lunged forward a little, body tilting.
Mouse squinted at him. "You're really drunk aren't you?"
The ghoul opened his eyes widely, and attempted to look offended. "What are YOU trying to say about ME ... no, no, you're right." He wiped his hand across his face and looked like he was trying to focus. "Patchwork, that's me. Town drunk, 's'nicetameetcha. Though I'd like to be more drunk, if you catsshh my meaning." He made a groggy wink at Mouse.
Mouse stared at him, dumbfounded. This guy looked like he was ready to keel over and sleep for a week, and he wanted to drink more? ... Drink, huh. Like at the bar. Maybe he knew something that could help Mouse get back into the Ninth Circle to reclaim his money. He wasn't really sure what this reeling mess could tell him but it was worth a shot to ask.
"Hey… uh…"
Patchwork looked around, craning his head like those pre-war birds, owls. Blinking kind of like one too.
"You c'n jush call me Patches, if you... if you like that. Mosht people don't even... wait-wha..."
"Patches," he agreed. Mouse rushed to think of what to ask before the dazed ghoul zonked out. Umm. "When does the Ninth Circle close? And do you know where Ahzrukhal sleeps?" It was a long shot, but the only one he really had. Otherwise he'd have to do this completely blind.
"Well, they closhe... clo… close in th' middle of the night. 'N then you can't get a drink until breffus." Patches giggled and winked in what was probably supposed to be a conspiratorial manner. It ended up just looking very silly, but went along well with the ridiculous stage-whisper he started speaking in, "I try to sneak in there all the time after hoursss. Charon alwaysh boots me out though. Can't keep quiet enough to make it up to the bar. The shecond Ahzzzerkal hears me, he hollers from the back room and that big guy comes right out and picksh me up and dumps me outshide. Can't even believe it." He sniffed. "Good thing Charons likesh me, I don't think he'd be so nice to anyone elsh. A toss down the shtairs is pretty good treatment from him."
Mouse sat back on his heels and processed what he'd heard. It was far more info than what he'd hoped for. Ahzrukhal and Charon stayed in a back room when the bar was closed. He had seen a safe behind the bar. If his caps were there, he would be set. Hopefully the scummy barkeep didn't keep everything on his person... then he'd be out of luck. It was worth a try though. Even if his stuff wasn't in the safe, there had to be something there. Why else have a damn safe? With the issue of Ahzrukhal hearing him, Mouse was fairly slenderly built and could move nearly silently when he had to. Years of boredom in the vault had been ample time for training his muscles and his sneaking abilities. He thought back to the several times he'd managed to quietly sneak up on Butch and dump a bottle of water on his carefully coiffed hair. Gotcha, nosebleed. Hope somewhat restored, Mouse stood up, thanked Patches, and headed for his rented room at Carol's to grab a few supplies for the attempt and wait for closing time. Patchwork weakly called after him:
"Heeeeey, don't forget to bring me back... somefing." Mouse glanced back and saw Patches had already slumped against the wall and his eyes were barely open. He smirked and bounded up the stairs.
