"So… you sit in front of a wheel-"
"-and you just press the pedal with your foot." Vito explained as he navigated the streets with this large, mechanical force. Somehow, he was able to ease perfectly into traffic with no issue whatsoever, a drastic change in skill compared to the previous night's incident.
"There's different modes you can adjust with the clutch," Joe added, "that's if you want the car to move forward, in reverse, stay neutral, or parked."
"That sounds complicated," Leon grimaced, "How can you remember all those steps?"
Joe laughed. "Driving a car is a lot easier than driving a fuckin' horse! Trust me. You take total control of the damn thing. The only problem is that anyone can buy one of these, including idiots. So there's people on the roads who drive like assholes. Those ones you have to watch out for."
"All you need to do is stay calm and obey traffic laws," Vito proceeded, "it keeps the cops off your ass."
"That means not striking individuals with the vehicle?" Leon retorted.
Joe laughed, but Vito sighed and shook his head. "Fuckin' wiseass."
"You're gonna love this city, Leon." Joe proclaimed. "This is the greatest fuckin' place on God's green earth! Good food, great booze, and hot broads that'll suck a baseball through a straw if you pay the right price."
"Why would I… what?" Leon was visibly confused by Joe's last comment.
Joe glanced at Vito and burst into laughter. "Nine-hundred years into the future, you're gonna need some pussy!"
Vito scoffed. "C'mon, Joe, he probably doesn't know what that means."
"If you're referring to what I think you are," Leon spoke shyly, "then I'm not interested. That's something two people who love each other should partake in. I would never dishonor myself in such a way."
"Dishonor!?" Joe gasped sarcastically. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, I'm just talking about blowjobs! You've had one, right? Come on, you're a pretty good lookin' guy, you've had to have your knob polished at one point. You get what I'm saying, right?"
"You're talking about my privates," Leon frowned, "which I very much do not appreciate."
"Leave him alone, Joe." Vito scolded his friend. "Look, if ladies aren't your thing, then fine. But you're gonna see and experience the rest of the city regardless." Vito paused mid-sentence to light something between his lips; it was a long, white stick that emits a ghastly odor when torched. "We're gonna put you behind a wheel, too. Can't be running around this city like a chicken with its head cut off."
Leon had noticed the smoke rising from the driver's seat, but not before abruptly coughing from accidental inhalation. "What is that!?"
Vito realized what he had done, and tossed the object out the window. "My bad, force of habit."
Leon sat in shock, fanning the air before his face. "Do one of the modern customs of this time include willfully inhaling smoke ?"
"Well," Joe hesitated, "when you say it like that, it sounds bad."
"It smells bad!" Leon coughed. "How could you do that to yourself? It seems so toxic!"
"It's not the smoke itself," Vito sighed shamefully, "it's what's in the smoke that has people hooked."
Leon shook his head in disgust. "Unbelievable…" He sunk down into the back seat, his hands in his jacket pockets. His fingers moved around inside the fabric enclosures to fondle whatever textures he could out of self-comfort. He managed to roll up a good amount of pocket lint, all while his eyes shifted to the passing view outside the vehicle.
The shops, all with distinguishable signs, were pressed together in close proximity with very little room to walk through. This compact marketplace was heavily populated with folks brandishing suitcases or shopping bags for their wares. The amount of street signs increased, as the flow of traffic circulated through the city's meticulously designed veins.
"Let's hear what garbage they're spewing on the news today." Joe turned a dial attached to the dashboard at the front of the car. There was the fuzzy, crackling sound of static, before a man's voice could be heard.
"Where is that coming from?" Leon shifted his vision away from the outdoors to the oddly shaped speakers beside the dial.
"It's a radio," Joe answered, "it catches these signal waves in the air and turns them into noise. I can't explain it - but it's convenient as fuck."
Leon's attention was focused on the grainy voice coming through the radio console. It was hard to make out the words at first, until Joe shifted the dial slightly to clear the signal.
"- reports say that a strange, visibly distressed man was seen running through Uptown. The last known sighting of this individual was in Roadking Bus Depot, and some believe he may have retreated to a neighborhood outside of Uptown. Upon interviewing several people who occupied Roadking Bus Depot, some say he 'fell from the sky' and looked 'like a maniac.' Witnesses have also informed us of the man's appearance; close to six feet tall, slim figure, medium-length blond hair, and a coat with a red flame pattern. If you see this person of interest wandering around Empire Bay, report your sighting to the Empire Bay Police Department. Authorities believe the sudden arrival of this individual may be linked to other happenstances around the city. "
Leon's blood chilled before he sunk into the back seat, trying to hide himself from the outside view of passing citizens. Hearing about himself on the radio made him feel even more detached from his current reality.
"Hey," Vito looked through the rear view mirror to see Leon's uneasy expression. "They ain't gonna find you. Don't worry."
"What makes you so sure?" Leon didn't make eye contact with Vito through the reflection, but rather kept his unsure gaze fixed on the outdoors.
"We know a guy." Joe chimed in before Vito could. "We're on our way to see him right now. He's kind of a grumpy fuck, so we're gonna take the lead and do the talkin'."
"He's gonna be pissed enough already with what happened," Vito admitted, his pride sinking. "If we talk to him, he'll lash out on us, not you. Even though, let's face it, it's partly your fault."
Leon ignored the last comment made by Vito, and sighed. He didn't want to know what the local authorities would do to him if he was apprehended. His hands clenched into fists inside his pockets, trembling momentarily before relaxing them. His eyes returned to the window, absent-mindedly making a game of avoiding eye contact with pedestrians.
The trio finally arrived at a two-story restaurant and bistro, the first location Leon would familiarize himself with. "What is this place?" he asked, taking in the sight of the building. There was a red carpet rolled to the sidewalk, leading up to a small staircase, the doorway framed with two tall, square-potted trees. Overhead, a large, flashing arrow lined with flickering light bulbs pointed toward the bistro's indoor area, and beside that arrow was a large, glamorous sign that read The Maltese Falcon .
"Just a fancy restaurant we like to eat at sometimes," Joe answered with a wide smile on his face, "their prime rib is to die for!"
"We're just meeting up with that friend of ours." Vito added. "We're not here to throw down on all-you-can-eat prime rib."
"He's the supposed friend who can help me?" Leon appeared interested, but wanted more than anything to vet the mentioned person. "How do you know such a man of great tact?"
"He's more of a mentor than a friend." Vito explained. "We know him from work, someone we have ongoing business with. He's who we go to if we need anything, or if we have a situation."
"I assume the 'situation' is me?" Leon wondered aloud.
Vito and Joe exchanged glances, until Joe stated "It's best if you maybe don't ask any more questions. Just follow our lead, and act natural. Whatever we say in regards to you being here, go with it. For example, if we say you're a tourist, you're a fuckin' tourist."
Leon nodded, the pair leading him through the rotating doors of the restaurant. He kept his eyes forward, not allowing his gaze to wander unnecessarily. Once indoors, Leon's face scrunched with disgust, as the majority of patrons within the restaurant were in possession of one of those odorous sticks that Vito and Joe regularly consumed. The atmosphere was thick with this nasty smell, and Leon swore the smoke had formed a massive quilt over the ceiling.
Vito and Joe lead him into a back room area away from the restaurant's general population. A short staircase allowed them to ascend to the second level, where their friend was currently located. Once they were atop the staircase, Vito turned to Leon.
"Wait here a sec. And don't move ." he instructed. Leon obliged, and stood patiently by the staircase while the pair walked off, disappearing behind a glass wall with a distorted texture to preserve confidentiality.
Peering over the railing to watch the many patrons enjoy their meals, Leon took in the many luxurious details of this place. The view was almost captivating from where he stood, given the low-hanging ceiling lamps that illuminate each individual occupied table. Leon already despised the act of smoking, but found it oddly beautiful that this pungent, deadly smoke formed halos around the decorative lights. What stuck out to him the most, was the fact that these people had engaged in conversation over their meals.
"I suppose things haven't changed too much." Leon quietly thought aloud. "People still talk as they eat together. Such a timeless tradition."
Leon's attention was suddenly pulled from the view when he heard a frustrated exchange erupt behind him. He glanced around to focus on the voices; Vito and Joe spoke at one point, but there was a third voice belonging to another man. He sounded gravelly, matured, holding his accent with a little more grace than his two younger peers, despite the rising anger in his voice. Leon slowly approached the distorted window, and noticed another obscured figure standing before the pair. The conversation slowly became more comprehensive the closer Leon stood.
"You ran over a fuckin tourist on your way out of last night's heist!?" the stranger exclaimed, "and you brought him here to the fucking front without telling me? What the hell is wrong with you two!?"
Leon felt heat creep up his neck with worry for Vito and Joe. This man sounded like a threat. Originally he'd been instructed to stand quietly by the stairs, but his protective nature rose over his self-control. He turned the corner and was now standing in plain view behind the third man.
"Henry," Joe tried to cover for himself and his friend, "calm down, will ya? It was a freak fuckin' accident, and he ain't even dead!"
"Oh great!" the older man exclaimed. "He's NOT fuckin' dead! Just fuckin' amazing, you guys. Real nice job."
"What're we supposed to do?" Vito argued. "Take him out back and put a bullet in his head in broad daylight? Henry, you ain't thinkin' clearly. I know Carlo's breathin' down our necks, but this isn't big heat!"
"We don't need ANY kind of heat on our asses!" the angered mentor continued to curse. "One of you chuckleheads are gonna have to explain to me what you think is gonna happen next, because I'm about to-"
"They didn't mean to hurt me." Leon spoke out, cutting off the other man's rant mid-sentence.
Vito's and Joe's complexions went as pale as Death's bones when Leon appeared behind their vengeful mentor, now talking out of turn.
Leon continued, seeing as how the man froze in preparation with additional rage. "Please, it was an accident. I've already forgiven them. It's okay. Really. There's no trouble whatsoever."
As they stared at Leon in horror, the man before him began to turn around. Right as he was about to deliver more venom towards Leon, he paused as their eyes met. Instantly, his demeanor was pacified.
This man appeared to be twenty years Leon's senior. His clothing of choice consisted of all black, the only pops of color being his wine red shirt and multicolored tie. His hair was almost styled the same way as Vito's, but with more care and attentiveness, and not as dark of a shade. He was strangely dashing for someone who came off as mean-spirited.
Leon realized that his hands were still raised in a defensive fashion, and proceeded to slowly lower them to his sides. "My name is Leon. It's a pleasure to meet you, um…"
"Henry," the other man answered without a beat. "Nice to meet you too, Leon." He then extended his hand forward. Leon glanced down for a moment, and realized this was yet another custom he would have to improvise with. He extended his hand in response, and soon he was met with some kind of caress. Henry's grasp against him was firm, yet oddly gentle and welcoming. Leon tried to subdue his surprised expression, and glanced back up at Henry, untensing his arm and allowing movement.
Leon caught a glimpse of Vito and Joe standing behind Henry with lowered jaws and widened eyes. He caught Joe silently mouthing "What the fuck?" Vito gave a confused shrug in response.
Soon, he was released, and the other man gestured to an executive booth fit for a group of four or more. "Why don't you come sit with us? We're about to have lunch."
"Sure?" Leon apprehensively took a seat in the booth, the other men doing so soon after. Vito was sitting beside Henry, Joe beside Leon. Henry was across from the vampire hunter, allowing Joe and Vito to exchange as many confused glances as they wanted.
"So," Henry started, keeping his eyes focused on Leon, "What brings you to Empire Bay? You're not here for the sights, are you?"
Leon didn't want to repeat his story ad nauseum for Henry, so he remembered what Joe and Vito instructed him to do, and went with an improvised version of his story; the tourist.
"I'm from Europe." Leon began dryly. "Just recently, I was visiting Hungary - the Wallachian territory more specifically - but there was a change of plans when my… friend decided to venture here. I thought I'd pay him a visit." The word 'friend' was spoken with heavy implication.
Vito and Joe blinked at one another, shocked by Leon's sudden willingness to work with their lie, and his oddly good ability to do so. They picked up on his sarcasm, and subtly nodded with approval.
"What's your friend doing in a city like this?" Henry remained intrigued, his attention glued to the hunter before him, despite the younger gentlemen reacting beside him.
Leon forced a grin. "Probably causing trouble, if I'm being honest."
Henry gave a soft chuckle. "How do I know you ain't the troublemaker?" He accompanied his question by cocking an eyebrow.
"I assure you," Leon answered, "I'm far from trouble. Like I said, I'm just a tourist simply grazing Earth's beautiful surface."
Henry then asked him a question he was not prepared for. "Where in Europe were you born? You don't look Sicilian, so I'm kinda wondering where those features come from. I see German and French in you, but I could be fooled."
"Um…" Leon didn't even know his own origins. "I can't say… I'm adopted, actually. I never knew my real parents, so my lineage isn't quite clear to me."
The older man appeared to accept Leon's story. He sat back and crossed his arms, nodding intently. "Well, welcome to Empire Bay. I'll give you one piece of knowledge to hang onto; most of the people who live here don't strike tourists with their cars on a daily fuckin' basis."
Vito facepalmed, and Joe almost failed to hide a snicker.
Leon allowed himself to chuckle. "I'm sure it's wonderful once I get used to it. I'm not sure how long I'll be staying here for. My acquaintance is keeping his location quite a mystery."
"What's his name?" Henry raised an eyebrow with vague suspicion.
"I can't say." Leon feigned playful secrecy, not wanting to defile the guise he had put himself under. "What if you know him? How do I know you're not going to cause your own trouble?"
Vito and Joe looked away, trying to mind their own business, but this exchange between the two contrasting men was incredibly perplexing. The pair found themselves locked in one facial expression; confusingly creased eyebrows, widened eyes, and partly lowered jaws.
"I'm only trouble when I have to be." Henry responded with a hint of suggestion in his voice, mischief in his curled lips. Leon gazed over his features, trying to read his intentions. So far, he couldn't detect an ounce of suspicion or doubt.
The next moment, as Leon had already gotten accustomed to Henry's casual nature, his expression shifted to seriousness. "Let's get back to the subject," Henry continued, catching the other off guard with a tonal shift as well. "What'll it take for you to pretend you never saw us?"
"Sorry?" Leon was taken aback by this sudden change.
"Ten grand?" Henry offered. "Twenty? Thirty? Come on, surely you've gotta have a favorite number."
"Favorite number?" Leon creased his eyebrows. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
"If you're going to be staying in Empire Bay for an extended time," Henry told him, "you'll need something to tie you over." His hand traversed to the lapel of his jacket, pulling it open with grace to reveal a stack of green paper bills banded together in his inner pocket. Henry reached for it, but Leon stopped him with defensively raised hands.
"You don't need to give me anything!" Leon paused with visible nervousness. "I've forgiven these two. I don't need penance for an accident. I'm alive and fine. Really, Henry, you don't have to bribe me into silence."
Henry froze when Leon turned down the money. Vito and Joe couldn't have looked more surprised in their lives. Once Leon lowered his hands again, Henry placed his own back onto the surface of the table, and he couldn't help but to look insulted.
"Tell me you're fucking with me." Henry glared. "I'm offering you valuable currency that will buy you a comfortable life here in Empire Bay, and you're just gonna turn it down? What for?"
"It would be dishonorable to accept such a large bribe just for not holding a grudge." Leon admitted truthfully. "I'm a man of my word. I won't tell a soul what happened. However, if you want to help me during my stay, I would more than appreciate it. No strings attached."
Instead of becoming defensive about the rejection, Henry gave a sincere look of pride. "That's what I like to hear. So, what do you need help with?"
"Well, first, I need a safe place to sleep." Leon began. "And, of course, sustenance. Water. To bathe. Basic necessities. Travelling all day has me exhausted and hungry."
He looked up at the ceiling to think of the other things he may need. His eyes lit up. "Oh! The so-called 'radio' emissions; how can you erase my depiction from these intrusive broadcasts? Apparently the authorities are trying to find me, and these two here said you could do something like that. Is it possible?"
"Of course." Henry nodded. "No one wants to hear about themselves over the radio, especially when they're being hunted down by the local police force. I know someone at the station who can scrap the story, and as you know, I have the costs for something like that. And don't worry - I'm not even gonna ask how you almost got pinched. It ain't none of my business."
Leon felt a weight leave his shoulders, and sighed peacefully. "Thank you, Henry. That would help a lot."
"Let me just make one quick phone call." Henry arose from his booth. "This should take less than five minutes." He walked off, leaving Leon to sit with a visibly perplexed Joe and Vito. Once their mentor was out of earshot, they faced Leon with surprise in their eyes.
"You did it, bud!" Joe congratulated the younger man, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him around with friendly jest. "Henry had no fuckin' clue you were feeding him bullshit just now!"
"It wasn't all a lie." Leon noted. "Some of those things were true, however bent in a more modern and believable sense."
"What I wanna know is why you turned down all that fuckin' money." Vito was puzzled by the choice. "You could'a taken the dough and never seen us assholes again if you wanted."
Leon stared down at the polished table, his eyes following the rippling, wooden textures. "It felt wrong; not only taking a bribe to remain inconspicuous, but having to go through life pretending I've never met such memorable individuals."
"There's a reason guys like us don't wanna be remembered by guys like you." Joe explained. "I can't tell you why, but being a close friend of ours might not be the smartest idea."
"Can't the same be said about myself?" Leon countered. "Chaos seems to accompany me quite often nowadays. It's unlikely that such a life is bound to follow you men as well."
Vito and Joe clamped their jaws shut before exchanging brief stares as Leon traced his index finger around the texture of a tree knot atop the table's glazed design. Pensivity scoured his features as his mind tried to come to terms with the world around him. He could hear Vito and Joe shifting before another body lowered itself into the booth. Looking up, he was met with a pleased expression from Henry. The older man crossed his arms, sitting back comfortably into his seat.
"All taken care of." Henry proudly announced, before gazing past Leon to notice a uniformed individual with an apron heading their way. "Here comes the waiter. Order whatever you want, and don't worry about the price. Joe and Vito are capable of paying for themselves."
"How about…" Leon gazed at the menu, his finger trailing down the various descriptions. He felt the waiter's anticipating stare fall upon the table, prompting him to make a final decision based on rumor. "...the prime rib."
After a much needed, satisfying lunch at the diner, Leon's new acquaintances lead him towards their vehicles. There were two cars parked beside the building; the one used to drive Vito, Joe, and Leon to the bistro was not as sleek and luxurious as the vehicle Henry used for his travels.
"That was satisfactory," Leon beamed. "I don't remember the last time I ate that much. Those spices and sauces they used - I don't have the words to describe the flavors!"
"You're gonna be eating a lot more good stuff the longer you're here," Joe added, "food has changed a lot in the past-" He noticed Henry was still walking alongside them, continuously under the impression that Leon was only from a different place rather than a different era. Joe changed the course of his statement. "-food is different here than it is where you're from, bud! You really are missing out."
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Leon continued, "and the service there was lovely , but I'm glad to be out of that restaurant. There was so much smoke! At certain points, I couldn't catch my breath."
"You kinda get used to it." Henry shrugged. "It's something a lot of people do, especially more indoors for some odd reason."
"I do find that odd…" Leon thought aloud.
Joe and Vito stood by their vehicle, and Henry by his, Leon apart from and in the middle of the two separate groups.
"Come stay at my place." Joe offered as soon as they were about to go aboard their modest tool of transportation. "I have a full fridge of beer, some more delicious fuckin' food, and a nice comfy couch to crash on. And don't worry about waking up next to my flamingos, I'll move them to the closet so you won't use them for kick-boxing practice."
"Or you could come to my clean, organized luxury apartment at the Empire Arms Hotel," Henry opposed, "instead of Joe's dirty fuck-shack. Who knows what's crawling around there?"
"Fuck you." Joe shot back with a mix of humor and offension. "Vito, you got any space?"
"I'm not a fuckin' boarding house." Vito rolled his eyes. "My space is mine alone. I'm not gonna start becoming some sleepover host for months on end."
"Suit yourself, you fuckin' Scrooge." Joe scoffed.
"So, Leon?" Henry looked back at the youngest male of the group. "What do you say?"
Leon pondered for a moment, glancing between the separated cluster of friends. On one hand, he could extend his stay with Joe to make up for the shock-induced misunderstanding. On the other hand, he could stay at Henry's place of residence and build a rapport with the man who claimed to be of great help.
These two men were being equally generous and genuine, making it a little bit harder for Leon to decide. If Henry was the valuable asset he claimed to be, this would progress Leon's journey into finding Dracula, and hopefully the relic used to bring the two foes into the mid-twentieth century. Joe, however, offered a valuable space of reprieve. Henry was a decent man, yet, something in Leon pulled him in the other direction. Not out of distrust or dislike for Henry, but Joe's home sounded like a hostel in which he could truly unwind. Plans would be better made with a clearer mind after a night of relaxation.
Leon turned to the older mobster, giving him a gracious look. "Thank you, Henry. I appreciate your offer, but I think I should stay with these two tonight. I believe I should and make up for the fact that I've gotten them into trouble with you."
"And almost with the cops," Vito retorted, "don't forget that."
"Right, well…" Henry nodded, briefly looking a little disappointed and confused. With an understanding composure, he handed something to Leon from his pocket. "If you get sick of Joe bringing home women at two in the morning, you know where to find me."
The object was a small, rectangular slip of rigid paper. There were dark letters written in cursive atop the thin slate that read Empire Arms: Five-Star Extended Stay Hotel , with an address printed beside the curved text. Leon placed it safely into his pocket after giving it a quick inspection.
"Alright. We'll catch you around, Henry." Joe initiated, stepping into the passenger side of the car.
Just before Vito entered the car on the driver's side, Henry called out to him, "Keep your eyes on the road."
Vito sighed and placed himself before the steering wheel. Leon slid into the back, placing himself in the middle to have a clear discussion with Joe and Vito equally. He stared forward, taking a breath and leaning back comfortably into the seat, swaying with the movement of the car as it pulled away from the restaurant.
Vito spoke out once they were halfway to his apartment. "So, why Joe's? I know my place isn't an option, but you heard Henry - his place is clean, and Joe has a dirty fuck-shack."
"To be quite honest," Leon answered tiredly, "I need a beer."