Catching up with Savio

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Brief Title:
Catching up with Savio

Sandman, Savio Drago

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:

Alphonzo's Bar - Little Italy

Flint Marko and Savio Drago have a chat regarding the Order of St. George, Mike, and the people around Mike

Social or Plot:


-----==[ Alphonzo's Bar - Little Italy ]==------------------------------------
A low lit, well furnished, standard Italian bar. Alphonzo's Bar has quiet music playing in the background, sometimes an actual piano is being played for tips. The bar itself is located in the center part of the room and is well manicured, polished, and decorated. The waitress' all wear short, black skirts, yet still hold the feel of beauty and elegance. The bartenders all wear tuxedo shirts and bottoms and have a smile wanting to serve you.

Wednesday evening is not typically a date night or a going out to eat night for most folks. But for one Savio Drago, he is not 'most folks'. Instead he is enjoying the quiet of the near vacant bar by being seated at a table with one of the better quality drinks available at his table. The Italian's attire is clean, yet simple. Not quite wearing a suit but wearing dress pants and a deep, blood red dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. To the side of him, a black jacket rests upon the seat.

As for security, they sit nearby, but not AT his table. Just because they work for him doesn't mean he wants to see only them. Hmmph.

Entering the bar, not in fancy dress, but in his usual drab garb, green and black stripped shirt and black trousers, Flint Marko heads straight for the bore, ignoring or not caring about anyone else who is there or fancy dress of any patrons. Right at the bar, the villain looks around, "Hey. . .I want a drink and I want it now. Make it good. And expensive. But more importantly, make it quick!"

The bartender looks to Sandman, frowning as he glances over to the tables in time to catch the nod of a head and the tilt of a hand. He nods, before turning over to the liquors, mixing up a cocktail of high end products. With little wait, the beverage is produced and set before Sandman, "No charge for that one."

"I wonder. Is it Marko, or Baker that I see?" Savio states, making sure that Sandman can hear him. His head tilting curiously, reminicent of a certain purplish avian figure Bill may know of.

Tilting his head and turning to see who is speaking to him, Sandman has a bit of a sneer, but when the drink is poured. An old fancy cognac in a snifter, Sandman simply looks at the bartender, "You may as well as give me the bottle." He refrains from reaching over to grab itself as he holds the drink in hand and saunters over to Savio. "A free drink is a good drink." He walks right past security and plops himself down on a seat and eyes the Drago. "I feel like we have had this conversation before. It's Marko. Don't you recognize me." He finally slams down the cognac in a very uncouth manner.

Cool eyes watch the behavior, the line of his lip twisting upwards. "You do have a tendency of switching between different hats." He doesn't give apology but simply lifts up a hand, signaling to security to 'take 5' or something of that nature. They shift over to the bar, giving Savio and Flint more talking room. "It is good to see you back to normal."

Quirking an eyebrow and the sneer turning into a frown, Flint responds, "Well, this hat is here to say. If you want Baker, then head to a bakery. . ." He looks to the bartender and then Sandman's arm suddenly extends out across the bar, grabbing the bottle of cognac and snagging it from the bartender. "Speaking of bakers and hats, I haven't seen your boy and his queer houseboy in a minute."

"Likely because of the filmings and tour he is on." Savio replies, waving it off with his hand. "He never was one for just sitting things out." There's a hint of something to the voice, perhaps not pride but more amusement, "As for that side project of the street rat, I haven't really had much reason to follow up on his activities."

The bartender blinks as the cognac he was putting back suddenly leaves his hand. Flailing, he looks around seemingly terrified of possibly dropping it, but upon seeing the sand arm moving to the table, he sighs and just goes back to cleaning. Pretending he didn't see that.

Some grains of sand are dropped for the bartender to clean up. "Well, goodie for him. So how has parenting going? You being more a part of his life?" Flint laughs knowing the answer. "Oh be warned your son's side project has a tendency to bring out the freaks. . .and by freaks I mean the likes of Loki and Spiral."

"About as much as I've always been." Savio replies, hand resting upon the side of his glass, tapping it with one of his fingers, "Those freaks, as you've put it have not been around recently. Besides, I believe when it comes to the more visible threats, he will react accordingly as he's been conditioned to. The less visible ones, not so much. Despite certain people attempting to drop the veil."

Nodding his understandably, Flint cracks open the cognac bottle and begins to chug. "So, I've been reading the news lately. . .nice to stay on top of things. I thought the Order was done with. . . seems like more people connected with your son keep dropping. . .in particular the good old doctor."

Savio gives a bit of a smile, lifting up his glass to take a sip, seemingly enjoying the taste of the beverage more so this time around before lowering the glass. "Oh yes. I do remember reading about that. Considering the man, pleasant news and a welcome gift."

Getting a grin, Sandman nods his head, "Good to hear. You have found ways to get things done." A particular memory of throwing a precog out a window causes a chuckle. "Oh, you familiar with one of your other son's buddies. Little blind girl can see beyond what everyone sees. No matter what you do. . .She, and by virtue of her, Mike are ahead of you."

"Unfortunately, I do not know who delivered that Christmas present." Savio adds on regretably, "As for the blind girl, I am aware of her. Quite, a vocal one. Not very good at keeping things to herself." He looks over to Marko, "It's a wonder he hasn't been outed for his old night time activities. Before he quit."

"Yay, it's a shame." Flint would ask how Savio knows all these things, but he ultimately does not care for Mike or any of this. "Well, he may have quit, but one with powers, who have even had a taste, well nothingâs certain. So, ya never know. . .he may always resume his ghostly wandering at night."

"Perhaps." Savio concedes, giving a nod, "It will be something to watch out for. Lest he find another form of motivation somewhere. But if it comes to that, It's just a matter of keeping him occupied or distracted."

Finding the curiosity a bit much now, Flint outright asks, "So what's the deal with you and your son?"

"This does seem a lot like our last conversation," Savio tsks, "Is this curiousity or concern?"

Shrugging his shoulders, "A bit of both, I suppose. . .though I ain't seen your son for awhile. Paths always cross." Flint responds. He takes another swig of the cognac, almost finishing the bottle.

"Your, quasi-concern is noted." Savio dryly responds, growing quiet as he sips his drink, eyeing the Sandman. The glass lowers, "He is my son and although I'm flexible to WHAT condition he's in, he's much more useful to me breathing than as a festering corpse."

"Ah. . .fatherly love, indeed." Sandman tilts the cognac bottle finishing the last drop and then he hurls the bottle toward the bar, sending glass flying everywhere. "Well, Savio. . .it's been real. But outta cognac, so outta here." Instead of making his usual messy exit (the bottle is enough), Sandman stands and bows his head at Savio, "Give my regards to your boy. . .if you see him."

There is a half smile at Sandman's request, "Don't do the same, if you see him first."

"Fair enough. . .ciao." His body then suddenly disassembles falling into a pile of sand and snakes out of the bar.


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