Part 17

"You're never going to progress unless you can make them do what you want when you want it."

"I'm trying, for fuck sake."

Vaggie rolled her eye and crossed her arms while Alex stretched out his fingers toward the bottle on the table opposite him. One of his arms was wrapped in a sling, and he still did not want to move it, as every twitch made him feel it in his bone. "Can you put a knife to my throat? It usually works when someone does that."

Vaggie cocked her head to the side, looking at him incredulously, "is that sarcasm?"

"Maybe it will work." Alastor took a sip of his drink at the bar and turned in his seat to watch. "Husker, my good man, would you like a wager?" He held the glass out, and Husker raised an eyebrow and slowly refilled the demon's drink. "Not with you again. Can't imagine what sick shit your mind is thinking up?" There was a pause, "What are the stakes?"

There was a happy chuckle from the radio demon, but he wagged his finger. "Not that sort of wager. It's just a friendly competition. I'm enjoying the boy's progress, small as it may be. It's fun to knock something down and have it get back up again."

The cat gave out a loud humph as he cleaned a glass. "That's because he doesn't know who you are. Ignorance keeps him getting up." The demon tipped his glass to the bartender. "It is a beautiful thing, isn't it?"

There was a crack, and they both turned to see that the bottle had shattered when the fabric lashed out at it. "Fuck!" Alex ran his claws across the scales of his face. Vaggie set up another bottle. "Try to grab it, not break it." Alex's eyes closed in concentration and tried again, the wrappings around his wrist hovering above the glass.

Alastor clapped, "See? Getting a little closer each time. Progress of a kind is still progress." When he cleaned the glass, Husker threw the rag over his shoulder. "You didn't do eight percent, did you?" The demon side-eyed him, his smile a little wider. "Never you mind." He slid his feet onto the ground and walked around the room, drawing their attention as he approached.

Alex rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly at the discomfort in his injured one, and rubbed his forehead. Alastor stopped in front of him. "Relax. All this effort is straining, my boy. Perhaps we need to mix up your schedule? Routine is the death of everything, after all." Vaggie waved the man's pestering away.

His eyes focused on Alastor, and he glanced at the bottle on the table behind him. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, glancing back at him.

"Yes!" He laughed and lifted an index finger to his temple and tapped.

"Let's have some real fun! Actual opposition. Practice and play are very different concepts, my boy. I suggest-!" Turning, He pointed his staff at the door, "A night on the town!" Vaggie's eyebrows rose. "Have we not destroyed enough things here today already?" Alastor stowed his staff and pulled at his cravat. "We didn't destroy anything, my dear girl, though I agree the boy should send flowers to the bottle's widow. Ha-ha!" He raised a hand. "Fret not, my dear. How much trouble could one demon with highly reactionary weaponry get into?"

"Why? You've never done anything for anyone without a reason," said Vaggie, crossing her arms leaned back against the wall. There was a chuckle from Husker as he wiped off the bar counter, "Ain't that the truth."

"That wounds me, Husk, but not nearly as much as your efforts in tending the bar wound me. Hmm." He glanced back to the bottle on the table and moved with his head so subtle it might not have happened at all, but the bottle vibrated slightly on the table before flying across the room towards Alex.

There wasn't much time to react, but Alex's unbraced arm raised, and the wrappings lashed out, unfurling from his forearm and cracking out like a whip, colliding with the bottle and shattering it mid-air between the two parties.

There was a moment of silence as the pieces clattered to the ground, tinkling against the hardwood. Then Alastor began to clap as if he was watching a golf game. "Brava, my boy, Brava. Once again, reaction and instinct trump technique." He let his hands drop. "Well, that is that." He took his leave, spinning on his heels, not paying heed to anyone as he called back to the Lizard. "Take the evening, dear boy. Husker, my good sir, take the boy out. Go get into trouble, and do not return less; you have both swung at least one punch." He spun. "Tick tock, dear boys. You've got two hours."

And with that, he was gone.

Vaggie stood and straightened out her top. "I have other places I'd rather be. I'm not looking to draw attention to myself, and if I were you, I would ignore that psycho. But I'm smart."

She went to the door, "You two do whatever you feel like doing. Just get back here without any heat and before the morning." She walked through and closed the door behind herself, leaving Alex and Husker alone.

Husker approached the door, rolled his neck, and slipped a cigarette into his mouth. "Come on, kid. Two hours ain't a long time." The Lizard grunted and went to follow after. A night out in hell, huh? Alex lifted his arm in the sling. It still hurt but wasn't as bad anymore, the hole on his arm having already closed, and the damage and pain all internal now.