>> "Changing your ringtone? …You were at the crucial point. The part where you had the Bat Man in your sights."[/color]

Jorge cracked a grin at the Storyteller’s comment. He hated that ringtone, unfortunately a lot of modern technology was lost on him. So when he was asked by a co-worker if he needed help to set up his phone, Jorge jumped on the opportunity. What he did not know was that it would turn into a mini-practical joke against his person. It was an effective one because Jorge was always negligent when it came to keeping his phone on silent. And it was that fact that bit him in the butt right now.

But, despite the phone faux-pau, he makes sure the sound was turned off and took another sip of his beer. There was still a story to tell and he ended it at the best part.

“Yes, I had my gun trained, I stepped into the alley, into the Bale’s view. It was a second of him, what looked like whispering to the young girl before he finally took heed of me. He snapped his head up and snarled in my direction. Strings of saliva hanging down from his mouth, some forming little pools of drool in the alley way. The girl was terrified and tried to step as far back as she could. I kept my gun up as I shouted for Bale to freeze , that it was over and he was under arrest. And what do you think he did?”

“What?” one of the men asked. “Call upon bat minions to eat you alive?”

Jorge shook his head. “Nothing as fantastic as that, he did…screech! Oooh, it was the most teeth clenching, skin creeping sound I had ever heard. It was as if someone were scratching into a chalkboard with their bare fingernails. I nearly dropped my gun. But I managed to keep my sights on him. Bale….of course not counting on my not be scared off…he ran for it. But he made one mistake, he ran into a door that was in the side of an alley, but he did not know where it went. Still, I had to give chase. I dashed inside the dark as was immediately assaulted by the most horrible smells. It was a men’s room and one that looked as if it had not been cleaned in ages. The florescent lights above flicked a sickly blue, the walls were smeared with graffiti and, what I prayed was mud, but off hand, there was no sight of him. It was as if he disappeared. Then…he screeched again.” Jorge shuddered at the thought of that sound and hand to take another sip of his beer. It was already almost done, but the sip that was left was sufficient for him. “Anyway the screech was loud, but the bathroom was surprisingly large and very dark. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was feeling me out. Echolocation and all. He was part bat. So I stormed in, gun raised, I checked all my corners and I found nothing. Just that unnerving screeching sound, bouncing off the walls. And then…BAM!” He pounded his fist hard on the table top.

The sound made one of the men at the table who had been listening intently jump. Jorge grinned at this and continued.

“He struck. I flew down from one of the corners that I hadn’t noticed and…he hit me hard. He flew back, hit one of the stalls doors and landed hard insides, next to the most foul smelling toilet you could think of. At the same time, I had heard my gun skid across the tiled floor and the thud of heavy feet as they landed in front of me. I could hear Bale’s breathing, the smell the coarse dirty fur, and even hear the drool as he salivated at the thought of killing another person. So…I did the only thing a self-respecting mutant cop could do. I used my powers…”

Ashton eyed the coworker that had suggested 'bat minions'. Bat minions, really?

Back to Cervantes, Ashton's attention went. The bat fled. The man gave chase. An unknown escape route, a terrible smell: Bale was cornered in the rest room.

A dark, large restroom. Cervantes took a drink. Apparently, it was that bad.

Cervantes spooked one of the guy's at the table. "Killer," Ashton commented, taking a casual sip of his beer. The story hadn't fazed him.

Cervantes clashed, the bat man crashed, odors clashed.

Jorge used... his powers.

Ashton paused. "Oh yeah?" Curiosity was evident in his voice, alongside the usual sarcastic bite that was him. He smiled seriously at Cervantes. "What'd you do?"

>> "Oh yeah? What'd you do?"

Jorge smirked at this. Well, he did ask sort of nicely. Though this is the part of the story at which was the apex, it was still disgusting. But…you gotta give the crowd what they want. With, after he glanced away from the Storyteller and laid his gaze over the rest of the people gathered, he finally continued.

“Well, there I was, cornered, my gun gone somewhere in the dark of the bathroom, the bat-man Bale peering over me like I was some choice steak ready to be ripped apart. But that is when I felt it…that connection. There was water nearby.” he smirked as he nodded to one of the men who was in the middle of taking a sip of his beer. “Might want to hold off on that. So…anyway I knew there was water nearby. I could feel it, a connection to it that only happens when the water is within range for me to control. Comes in handy for a cop to have the ability to move water with a thought and a gesture, especially at that moment,” he rolled the empty bottle around the table from its neck absentmindedly. “The water was close…heavily deluded, but still there was enough for me to control. I glanced up at the dirty, smeared, smelly toilet in front of me and…I shot out my hand.”

He could see a couple of the men’s faces already turning green at the prospect of what was to come. It happened most every time, though Ashton seemed like a hard enough cop to not be phased by this. Good, the less easy you are the gross out, the more equipped you are for this job.

“With a twitch of my fingers I manipulated the disgusting concoction of water within and moved it into a globe of churning water into the air. It floated, dripping across the tiled floor and catching Bale off guard. He stared long enough at the globe of water mixed with various other fluids that is….not kosher to mention right now,” he grinned. “With him distracted I shot my influence forward and before he could gasp in surprised, I surrounded his head within the globe. Ooooh how large Bale’s eyes went. He gasped and clawed at the water it I successful cut off his oxygen and ran the putrid fluids in and out of his mouth and nostrils. Bale staggered back as I did my best to keep him covered. I watched him fall to his knees, his eyes looked at me. I could swear he was begging. But…I couldn’t take the chance.” he said with a shrug. “So I kept the globe on his head until I could manage to stand. Only when he passed out did I release my hold on the water, which then proceeded to spill all over him. It was then that I cuffed him and called it in.”

Jorge grinned as he leaned back in his chair. A couple of the guys at the table were already as green as they could get and moved their beers away for fear of opening their mouths. He chuckled as he grabbed a peanut from the bowl on their table and popped on into his mouth. He chewed, still grinning as he glanced between them and shrugged his shoulders once more.

“No one said being a cop was glamorous.” He chuckled again. “CSI’s were pissed at me that day.”

So, Cervantes could control water with his mind. That was his power. It was a useful power. Ashton could see right where this was going. Bathroom, dirty water, other things containing H20. He set his beer down. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Not that this fazed him. Yet another thing in the never-ending slew of 'gross' he dealt with everyday. There was a gross overabundance of those things.

The cop with brown hair made a face. "Globe of..."

Globe... head... nice. Cervantes was clever. Ashton approved.

"It was a wonder he survived something like that," Ashton commented. "And pissed. Good wording. There's a certain redhead I know who would have been more than furious. You're lucky you never had to deal with Anya." He smirked behind the rim of his glass.

>> "It was a wonder he survived something like that…And pissed. Good wording. There's a certain redhead I know who would have been more than furious. You're lucky you never had to deal with Anya."

Jorge smirked as he glanced again to the Storyteller. The man was not easily fazed by anything he had said so far. He was glad for it. Though it meant that more than likely the man had seen a lot of things he would prefer to not remember. At the same time, it meant that the man had an iron will. At least he was in the job for the job. He was not going to be quitting because of one experience.

“Yeah he did survive. I heard it took quite a bout with antibiotics and sanitization in order to get him stable enough to go on trial.” he said as he turned popped another peanut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Little girl though, she was a problem. I…hated to take him down in front of her because it was obvious that she loved him. But…I did what I had to. I called in the arrest, walked out and there she was, staring at me with those big baby blues. She asked what happened?” he shrugged as continued to toy the empty bottle of beer. “I don’t like lying to kids. I never have. Sometimes we take for granted what information they can and can’t process. But I couldn’t do it this time. I simply said he was taking a nap, took her hand and walked her out of that filthy alley and set her in my car to wait for back up to arrive.”

His story done, Jorge looked thoughtful for a second before he regarded the gathered group once more. So much they have collectively seen. Misery, pain, the most disgusting bowels of human civilization and yet still they did this job. They did not wince or look away, but they were the few to stare the Beast in the face and walk away without trauma. Maybe a few scars…but little trauma.

Finally he patted the table with a grin. “Well gentlemen, I’m not one to overstay my welcome. Was excellent meeting you for the first, or second, times, whichever meeting this is.” He stood, fixed his jacket and tie before he raised his hand to get the bill. “But, before I go, next round is on me,” he stated matter-of-factly, and moved over to the bar and paid for whatever round of drinks the men will have next.

The situation with the little girl? "Rough stuff," Ashton commented sympathetically. "Poor girl. But at least she was safe." In the world they worked in, that counted for a whole lot.

Cervantes took his leave, treating them to a round.

Ashton gave Cervantes the slightest nod of approval, raised his drink, smirked... and then the sentimental moment was over with. They were done.

He took a drink.

"See ya around," He called.