Raindogs

Description

When you've found it, you'd better watch out for Malone. There's only one form of law in Raindog's, and that what Raindog says it is. No cop has been inside the doors on official business for years. Sure, some of them come here for other reasons, but never about business. That's what Malone is for. To make sure that you follow the rules. And you wouldn't want to argue with Malone. He's both monolithic and monosyllabic his bald head glowing red from the reflected light, his eyes searching the shadows of the street for trouble. Somebody once tried to start a fight with Malone. They're still picking bits of him out of that trashcan over there. And that one over there as well.

The bar is long and well stocked, and the stools are full of those that choose to make this a regular haunt. They all come here-pimps, hookers, dealers, swindlers, con-men, the down-at-heel, the out-of-luck. And here, they are all treated like princesses and kings. If you can afford the drink, you'll get the same treatment here if you are Hobo Joe or Mayor Venkman. Raindog doesn't care how much more money you have beyond the price of the next drink. No fancy airs or graces impress him. No lack of manners disgusts him. Stairs go up and down, and the bar is deep too. Plenty of room for people to hide themselves. The regulars have more than enough room for themselves.
You can go upstairs, of course. Past Raindog's table, in it's splendid isolation. Up here is where they have the dancing girls, and the piano player. Now, One-Eye Booker is something special. He plays like he has the ghosts of Louis Morreau Gottschalk, Jelly Roll Morton, Professor Longhair, Chopin and Thelonious Monk inside him, and they all trying to play the piano at once. When the girls aren't swinging, he's playing and singing. This is the liveliest part of the bar, a labyrinth of tables, stairs and passages that stretch into the half lit gloom. This is where business is done, if that's what you want to do. Away from the prying eyes of the few casual drinkers who come through the front door.
And here Raindog sits, his shock of black hair in dis-array, his dark, gimlet eye watching the world go bye. A man with a voice like gravel, never raised, never angry, rarely surprised. A tired voice. The voice of a man who has seen too much for one lifetime, and perhaps enough for the next. This is his bar, his motley crew. This is his Court of Miracles, a retreat from the corrupt streets outside. Not just a shelter from the rain, but a place where all dogs can go to be treated with respect and get a drink on equal terms.

Atmosphere

Malone takes up half of the double doors, but there's still room to get past. Inside, the floor is hard and wooden, the air thick and smoky. If you don't like smoke, bring a gas mask. No one knows the last time this place was aired out, least of all Raindog himself. Such things don't actually matter to him. That's what Jaywick is for. Jaywick is the head bar man here. If it were a South-side joint, he'd be called the maitre d', but as this is Neon City, so he's just plain Jaywick. That's what everybody calls him, and he's happy enough with that. A round, waddling figure, he's as garrulous as Malone is quiet, his voice never still as he lubricates the atmosphere while pouring beers and chasers. He knows everyone in the place, and once you've ordered a drink from him, you won't ever need to tell him again.
Downstairs, there's the Charm School. They have the table nearest the toilet, so the rolling game isn't interrupted by unnecessary bathroom breaks. There's Chester, his hat pulled down low, his pockets bulging with bits of string, old sandwiches, whatever he can scrounge from the street. Then there's Phil, all greasy hair, red feral eyes and sharp yellow teeth. Nobody's ever actually seen Princess. Just the bone white hands that hold her cards, covered in jewels that catch the light when she moves. Then there's Izzy, a girl of glacial smiles and whispers. Others come and go, even Raindog some days, but these are the regulars in the Charm School.

Story

Notaries

Title	Character	Splat
Owner	Raindog	Sidhe
Head Barman	Jaywick	Boggan
Assistant Barkeeper	Emma	Human
Doorman	Malone	Troll
Charm school regular	Chester	Bone Gnawer
Charm school regular	Phil	Ratkin
Charm school regular	Princess	Nosferatu
Charm school regular	Izzy	Sluagh
Street Kid	Spyder	Sluagh
Tortured soul	Adonis	Satyr
Pianist	One-Eye Booker	Ananasi
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