Post by Alex Vipond on Feb 10, 2013 23:24:08 GMT -8
Twisted Guilt: Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence. Imagine a world without sight where sound is a man's only refuge. Rufus took much pride in his work and although the Pianist was off duty tonight he could still appreciate the talents of others. The atmosphere wasn't that much different than the night before. Smoke hung heavy in the air and it added to the allure of calm that skimmed the surface of Lounge life. This place wasn't meant to be a hopping club or a roaring bar. It was simply a Piano bar with a collection of artists that played to the imagination. Despite the fact that loudness was left at the door the place was still brimming with life. Cocktails and beer were being served on the fly to old souls who just wanted a moment’s peace from the jarring thrills of life. Smoke lazily drawled from his lips as the blind man took pleasure in smoking his last cigarette. He had to savor the cancer stick after all! The Medical alert bracelet clinked every now and then against the edge of his bourbon glass. Hard to hide when it slipped down your wrist with each movement. Suit without a tie that was how Rufus decided to roll tonight. Dark strands were messily run through between sips and inhales of each poison. The bar was easy to spot kiddy corner from the stage where a jazz singer belted out long forgotten songs of the 20's. <d>
Alex Vipond: Alex was taking a break from the studio and well he was hoping to catch up to his sister. With any luck, he would. He didn't know if she was still at the casino or not, and he hadn't heard from her, or Ixen since last night. And he really wanted a face to face with Frank. Hopefully he would get one of the three, and soon. Sadly, he didn't have Nicolette's number, though one would think that would have been the first thing he'd gotten. Sadly it wasn't. He'd been too busy when they met up trying to keep her from killing him. Now as he parked that murdered out Benz in front of the lounge, he checked the lot. There was a decided lack of vintage auto. Nicolette wasn't here. Yet. With that yet in mind, he headed inside.
RJ MuIIigan: Without drinking, RJ had a hell of a lot of free time on his hands. Still having yet to find a place to live, he'd been drifting around from the garage, to the Seven, and back again. This gave him time to think, which was something he didn't relish doing. Instead, he'd turned his mind to the upcoming holiday that.. really wasn't a holiday. Regardless, it would be the first one he'd celebrated since he was a kid stuffing pieces of paper into little heart-covered boxes on a classmate's desk. He'd needed to get out, to walk, so he'd followed his feet and wound up turning a corner just in time to see Alex slip into the Lounge. RJ exhaled a lungful of smoke through his nostrils and gave a mental shrug. Alex was always good for advice. Might as well. He continued on and stepped through the door behind him.
Sake And Spice: Sakura was new to the city, having left LA so that her daughter could get into a better school, she was so proud of her Suki wanting to be a doctor. However like a good daughter she shoved her mom out the door telling her to go have some fun. So stepping into that hot pink 65' mustang she started the beast up and took off, she had already done her research on the city, finding the hot spots as it were. But Sakura didn’t much care for the loudness and drug filled air of a down town club, so she decided to try Lucid Lounge out. Luckily it wasn’t that far from her apartment, so pulling into the parking lot she set the e-brake, yup a woman driving a manual! Shutting down the car, she climbed out; her hand lifting to push long fingers through her dark reddish brown hair. Eyes of dark chocolate looked the place over, as she closed the door and locked her car. She didn’t need her second baby being taken! Walking briskly towards the entrance, and then she was in. The Japanese bombshell Coco called her, and it was true tonight, wearing a black pant suit with pink pin stripes, her black high heels clicking on the floor as she walked further in, just in case someone was to follow behind her. A hand rose to fix her glasses a moment as she spotted the bar. Well the place seemed alright, now most would instantly stare, a tall Japanese girl was a rare thing, and wearing those heels she stood five ten, with a body that could kill, but she didn’t flaunt herself like some hussy, after all she was a teacher! Steps took her to the bar where she would take a seat; pink painted lips formed a small grin as she looked over the drink selections. Would they have sake?-end-
Twisted Guilt: Rufus could easily lose himself in the music. If the man could solely survive on it alone he would but sadly he needed things like food and sleep to live. Over the drift of music he could hear the door opening and closing which meant the flux of people were continuing to shuffle in and out. Catatonic blues vacantly stared in the direction toward the stage, slightly cross eyed and dull they focused on sound waves. That was Rufus' only gateway into the world of the seeing. His mouth opened slightly to swallow down another mouthful of bourbon. The liquid burned his throat and created a warmth in his stomach. That scent, He had become familiar with the aroma that followed Alex around. It was slightly comical that sex was the fragrance Rufus associated Alex with. But he couldn't deny his nose! After all it was one of his more powerful senses. Turning in the direction of the vampire Rufus replaced his glass with that cigarette. " Back again I see..."HA he thought he was being so clever with his word play. Rufus always had such a lame sense of humor. <d>
Alex Vipond: Very punny. "What can I say? I'm a sucker for smoke filled rooms that reek of bourbon and nicotine." That and he remembered the days of playing with the people that wrote some of the songs covered. He wasn't going to mention that, though. As it was, he was just damned glad that he'd not broken out in hives after downing a glass of scotch last night. He eyed the bartender and contemplated pushing his luck.
Sake And Spice: Sakura smiled to the bar tender, her voice as sweet as her name. “Sake please with wassabi, or horseradish if you don’t have wassabi." Waiting for the tender to prepare her drink, she tucked some stray hair behind her ear and thought about her new job teaching English to high school student, and to think she was born and raised in Japan. But she always had a wish to teach, to give back to the world a little after all, her family did own a large telecom business back home and she was born into wealth and a happy family. Humming a bit she almost hugged the bartender when he brought her drink, the sweet smell of rice wine tickled her nose as well as the sour spiciness of radish. Touching the glass, it was even warm. This tender was getting a major tip! Lifting her glass she took a slow sip, nearly moaning from the lovely taste!-end-
Twisted Guilt: " Ya sure you're talking about the room or me? " Ash was tapped off the end of his cigarette. Switching between smoking and drinking had become an automatic ritual. While lungs savored the sweet taste of nicotine his stomach simmered with alcohol. Laughter struck the back of throat and a smile appeared. He swiveled just a bit as the scent of wasabi entered his nose. He didn't even know this place had any. The Pianist was pleasantly surprised by the spicy aroma. " It's really a nice place. They pay pretty well too..."He paused to take a final sip of his drink. " Though I gotta admit I feel sort of like an old relic. Jazz and classical piano is sort of a dying art...." <d>
A Creole Soul: The gig she had fell through. Big time. The no name band she was touring with doing backup fizzled out and left everyone on the side of the road. The old Caddy still had some life in her and she took a trip to Seattle since she was In that neck of the woods. Not really one to relish the cold, especially in a car that had no heat, she needed to get off the road and grab a drink. Yanno, they say you're not an alcoholic if you drink with others. The irony of the lounge's name caught her attention, how can you be lucid while drinking, so she squeaked and creaked the old machine into the lot to park. And once parked she turned off the car, already sliding out of it despite the fact it sounded like the beast would never go to sleep. With a slam of the door and final backfiring burp from the exhaust she was moving across the hopefully not icy ground towards the front. Damn cold weather! It didn't take long for her to have the door open and herself inside. -d-
chronic violet: The curtain behind the small stage shuffled and waved; just as if someone were trying to find a passage through its folds in the dark. The single spotlight broke through the silhouettes of musicians and their instruments on the centre platform. Awkwardly, a woman steps towards the piano to hand over sheet music she'd been carrying, almost tripping over one of the electrical cords. She wore a little black dress; simple, elegant. Neither too prudish, nor too overt. About her clings an aura of the vintage soul; short blonde hair is done up in singular curls that frame her face. Offset only by matte red lips which press together with nerves. Butterflies figuratively swarm her, alighting her delicate fingers as she adjusts the microphone for her height. Lola Darling took in a shaky breath, and exhaled some of those nervous energies, " Check," she whispered into the microphone. It protested by giving slight feedback. A jazz guitar began to tune from behind her. She gripped her stomach with both flat palms. One. Two. Three-count, begin. The songs prelude leads her to sway gently onstage, for its words move her to lapse into stillness. Would she forget them? How could she? " I love you, for sentimental reasons.., " came out of her mouth as if it loved the air itself. Breathy, sweet, come undone. (d)
Alex Vipond: "No, it's pretty much everywhere." Alex chuckled as he looked around. "Where's your friend from last night? She was smoking." He smiled. "I'm sure you could tell that from the reactions of those around her." His head turned just about the same time as Rufus' did, taking in the Asian chick, a nod given, before he looked back at Rufus. He was married, loved his wife more than life itself, but he could appreciate beauty when seen. Catching sight of the wavering curtain, Alex chuckled. "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain..." Yes, one could always quote the Wizard of Oz, in just about any situation. Alex smiled as the figure finally emerged with the needed material. "Methinks the lady doth allow the stage to fright." He glanced at the bartender, having decided to go for it. "Scotch. Glenlivet." He held up two fingers. "Holy fuck." Alex straightened as his glass was set on the bar, long fingers picked it up, and his eyes watched the woman on stage.
A Creole Soul: With a shiver like a wet dog she moved away from the door and headed towards that oasis in the tundra. Ah the bar. Long a bastion of salvation for many a weary traveler. But who the hell was she kidding? She needed a damn drink to warm her insides so those lengthy stems wrapped in well worn denim carried her towards the destination. The sound of feedback caused a little wince only because she knew too well how it felt to be behind the mic when that happened. A lift of leg and slide of ass had the rather tall brunette occupying space. Leather jacket was being shrugged off as she tilted to the side, the zip up hoodie beneath causing friction. "Maker's Mark, shar. Double." Said without any worry of them not having it. -d-
Twisted Guilt: A new voice. Rufus turned his attention toward the stage and his mouth curled upward into a smile. Stage fright or not the voice came out of her was beautiful. Rufus drank down each chord as if it were wine, savoring the breathy expulsion with the look of a content man. The cigarette was placed back into the edge of his lip and he took a long pull. Really the man should curb his vices. One day the blind man's heart was just going to give out. " She's pretty good..."He had to agree with Alex's holy fuck. <d.
Sloane Matheson: - This was becoming an issue, and she was ready to just give up. Last night, then lunch, she was starting to think there was some cosmic force that was determined to not let her have any enjoyment whatsoever. Stepping in through the door that opened almost by itself, she turned her head to the man who'd held it open for her and even Sloan had to just smile. Not one of those big flirty kind of smiles, but it was a nice smile none the less. Her hand held along the small bag in her hand, a purse of sorts that held her phone and some of those other essentials when you were going out somewhere. A step around a woman and man who were already lip-locked together and heading for the exit, and Sloane just shook her head. Now the idea was to try and find the Piano Man in all this, right? How the hell was she going to accomplish that feat of magic. If only she dabbled a bit more freely, she could scry for him, but that would upset the balance of things and she'd end up with a lecture somewhere down the line. So, best foot forward, and one that had on a nice ankle boot that didn't have soot or anything else smudged all over, and she figured she'd start off at the bar. "Excuse me." She said to the man she nearly bumped into, and then she turned, and had to say it again to some woman who was trying to play coy and get said man to buy her something to drink. "Sorry. It's so crowded.." The woman blew her off and even pushed a little, and Sloane had to fight back the urge to knock her updo a little off kilter. -
chronic violet: Damn Jules, for getting her into this! All she could see before her was a literal sea of eyeballs; staring right at her. .." I think of you every morning dream of you every night," Lola closed her eyes to deliver the rest from the safety of her closed lids, " Darling, I'm never lonely whenever you are in sight " A trumpet sadly cried. Four pieces of exceptional quality; A voice, A piano, A guitar, and A trumpet. Somehow tessellating on a single path in harmony. (d)
AImost daylight: While moonlight trickles through the clouds, Kim settles beneath an awning and watches as the light swells across the monoliths of concrete surrounding every city street: when he was younger, he'd watch the moonrise with awe and a sense of God somewhere beyond the scattering cumulonimbi. But he's older now. The blonde around his ears is fading, the color of moonlight on the pavement: amber and mottled grey. When a headlight strays and flashes hard into his face, he shuts his eyes. But beyond the red dome of his eyelids, he can still see the sleeping dumpsters; he can still hear the hiss of spray cans from this night and the other nights that come before it -- neon reds and greens giving ownership of another block or two to the twilight. When he blinks, it's night again: the klaxons of gridlocked cars filter through the sound of feet ebbing on the pavement. Sirens somewhere. Music in the distance. Kim inhales his city while the stoplight clicks from red to yellow to green. He inhales this city while his leg cuts a swath through the sidewalk, his feet fitting into the familiar cracks and grooves of the asphalt, the road, the path
Twisted Guilt: Oh crap. It shouldn't have been Rufus' first thought but it was when he heard Sloane's voice over the crowd. He knew her dislike for cigarettes and did his best to finish off the paper cylinder. It was rather funny to see the man puffing away at the cigarette like it was going out of style. His lungs took in as much poison as they could before cheeks puffed outward to help with the reluctant expulsion. Filter achieved and Rufus snuffed out the remainder in the nearby ash tray. The blind man turned his attention toward the Creole woman next to him, her accent unmistakable. But it was her choice of drink that had him tilting his glass to her in a salute. " great minds think alike.. "Sloane couldn't have been that far away so Rufus was going to wave and hope she caught sight of his hand in the air. <d>
A Creole Soul: Leather was finally off and left to become draped over the back of the stool she was enjoying. Hands rubbed together momentarily then they began fishing in the pockets of that jacket blindly in search of something. Hazels were fixated on the bar tender setting the drink down before her while ears were focused on the singer. "Merci shar. Tab?" Asked as fingers finally closed around the cellophane coated cardboard box. Victory! Box was plucked free as her other hand was already digging into the denim at her hip for the beaten Zippo that laid within. d-
Alex Vipond: Alex pulled his gaze from the singer to look at Sloane, a nod of greeting given. "Hey, how's it going?" And then his eyes wandered back to the stage. He was going to have to see if she would mind recording a duet.
DeviI Red: Sed slipped inside, eyes like sapphires cutting through the haze, the redhead keeping to the doorway for a bit, just keeping an eye out for a familiar face before deciding on whether or not she was going to stay. She was sucking on a smoke of her own, quite content not to be given shit about it for a change. -d-
Sloane Matheson: - There was no way to miss a hand that suddenly shot up into the air when the song being played on the main stage was anything but hand-waving, and head-banging kind of music. So, lucky for the woman with the up-do she was saved the wrath of the paramedic. A weave of her body through the others around the bar until she was able to get close enough to Rufus that she could -- smell the lingering smoke. "You put it out before I could get over here, didn't you?" Caught. The Piano Man was caught red-handed, or well, with lingering smoke in the air. Sloane looked toward Alex with a nod of her head and a smile and then looked back toward the Piano player. "If anything goes wrong tonight, I'm swearing off leaving my loft. Ever again." She was kidding, no maybe she was, but probably not. -
Alex Vipond: "Well I will leave you two to it and take my scotch and stalk a singer...." Alex smiled, plucking up his glass and heading closer to the stage.
Twisted Guilt: Guilty. You didn't need to have super senses to smell the lingering smoke in the air. Rufus' catatonic hues lowered in mock shame but that wry smile worked it's way through the faux remorse. " ...No..."Lying through his teeth and that grin did very little to help his cause. Shoulders gave a casual shrug and that look of innocence washed away quickly. " Maybe you walked under a ladder at the fire house..."Clever right? A nod was offered to Alex when he announced he was off to seek Lola. <d>
A Creole Soul: Since it was clear she was allowed to run a tab she set the pack of cigarettes down onto the counter beside her drink. Fingers were then pulling an ashtray closer. She was all set. Cigarette was removed from the slightly crumpled pack and stuck between naked lips. That Zippo she had been searching for was snapped against her thigh to bring flame to life, flame that was then brought to the tip of the nail in her coffin. With a chest inflating inhale of air, lungs filled with carcinogens. Ahh the sweet stuff. Thumb eased the Zippo closed so she could set it aside. With that first inhale held in her lungs she eased the filter from betwixt lips so that she could bring the glass of Maker's to her lips. Vice two slipping passed the bare pair. Burn, baby, burn. -d-
chronic violet: After a very jazzy out, the music slowed into a version of La Mer. This was not the Charles Trenet most would look forward to. The songbird, nerves and all, sang it as if loss, heartache, and longing sent her ' Beyond the Sea '. They closed the set with that song, allowing Ms. Darling to step off the small platform with the help of the piano player at large, to firmly plant herself on the floor proper. Relief filled her heart. Someone asked her if she would enjoy a drink, the answer to which was an emphatic yes, " Martini, if you please." (d)
Sloane Matheson: - There was a thing people didn't realize about the lovely state of Washington apparently, so, when another one lit up, the Fire fighter in her went to turning her head and giving her a slow look. "I hate being the one to burst a bubble on an evening out and all, but there's a no smoking indoors law in our lovely state." A lift of a brow, and then she waved off a waft of the smoke. "Sure you can ask for the patio and they'll direct you there to smoke your lungs black." A shake of the head, and then she looked back toward Rufus, the faker. "Nice try, Piano Man." She grinned then looked to what he was drinking, and gave a nod toward Alex as he wandered off to find himself a songbird. -
Logan Devereaux: It didn't sound like the usual place a guy like him would be found, but he'd been in stranger places before. He had parked his truck, locked it up and was now making his way inside. His steps were slow, but fluid and he continued to move further into the mix of people. It was pretty busy, but not overly crowded and that suited him just fine. With a quick adjustment to his jacket, he made his way for the bar. Shouldering past people here and there, slipping through others with a quiet apology. Once he reached the bar, he put in his first request. A Miller Lite. Then he lifted his gaze and began to gaze about. [d]
Alex Vipond: The woman was mobbed and Alex chuckled, knowing well that feeling. He simply stood his ground and watched her, waiting, eyes locked to her; letting the weight of his stare do the work of gaining her attention for him.
SIow RoIIer: - Aaron stepped on his cigarette and squashed it with a back and forth grind of his dress shoe just outside the door, lookin' forward to getting out of the cold for a while. He promptly stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and shouldered in through the door behind the fellow who just walked inside. Wearing a slim white dress shirt and whistling quietly to himself as he followed the flow of traffic towards the bar area. Just looking to have a few drinks, soaking in the atmosphere. Looking for a free stool that he eventually turned and sat himself down on, leaning his head enough to keep an eye out for the bar tender. [d]
Twisted Guilt: Piano man. It would be a lie to say he didn't approve of the nick name. In fact it was a bit ego boosting to be compared to Billy Joel. Another bourbon was already at his disposal and he was swallowing down the contents. The ice within skimmed across his upper lip and the sensation was quite amazing. It was the little things that Rufus reveled in, the things that people often took for granted. Miller lite. Since arriving in Seattle he had begun to memorize everyone's vocal pattern and Logan was just another name filed away. It was his turn to buy the man a drink. After all he had shown him such kindness upon his first night in town. " Put in on my tab..."See pay back wasn't always a bitch. " I can't put anything past you can I Sloane? " The blind man tapped his fingers across the surface of the bar, following along with the music that played on stage. " By the way your burger and fries from lunch were delicious.." After she had to leave Rufus wasn't just going to let good food go to waste. <d>
chronic violet: Most of the figurative mob just wanted to say 'well done'. When the accolades gently subsided, Lola stepped from the tiny throng holding a martini glass. Just when she thought it was safe, Lola took a small sip. Calms the nerves. Liquid courage. Quirky Girl. Silly girl. Beautiful girl. A finger swiped under her bottom lip to assure there was no lipstick smudge. She was clearly not used to being all dolled up. (d)
A Creole Soul: When the singer ended her her set she freed her hands to give an applaud, earnest and true but not overly dramatic. She simply enjoyed the set and the song choices. Very classic. There is nothing better than listening to someone who truly felt the music and didn't just play mockingbird. And was someone speaking to her? Surely not as she wasn't/was/had been the only person smoking in the establishment as proof by the thick cloud that had been hanging in the air when she walked in the door. Needless to say she didn't bother responding to the woman because there was no need to cause a ruckus when she was just trying to warm up. Again the liquor was lifted and sipped on as the house band broke up the silence with some house music in lieu of another singer. -d-
Alex Vipond: Alex continued to watch Lola, a nod of head given her, one hand sweeping in gesture of invitation to a table. No, he wasn't being perverted; he had a business proposition for her. Of course with the way he was dressed, leather jacket, ripped jeans, long hair and earrings it was probably a safe bet that people would lean toward the notion he was a perv.
Sloane Matheson: - The call of duty had ruined what was supposed to have been a nice, not so quiet considering the place's busy atmosphere, lunch. "Glad one of us got to eat lunch." She gave him a mock scowl that wasn't visible to the Piano Man, but it hinted easily enough in her voice to let him know exactly what she was doing with her facial features. "So, that means you owe me a meal next time, right?" Her eyes strayed to where his fingers played along the bar top, and then lifted more to catch sight of the Miller Lite heading toward Logan. A smile in his direction, and she was back to catch the bartender's attention for a drink of her own. No Sloane drinks, though, she went for something relatively easy.. "Corona with lime." And then she looked for that bourbon glass, before nodding at it too and the bartender was off like a man on a mission. With several other stops along the way. -
Logan Devereaux: It was when he heard someone say put it on their tab, that caused Logan to look passed another patron and spot Rufus. "Hey man..." he greeted. "How's it going?" he asked. Logan would have offered his hand as usual when greeting another person or friend, but given Rufus's handicap, he refrained. "Good to see you again. And... I appreciate the drink." He then looked to Sloane and offered her a genuine smile. At least tonight, he wasn't staring at her all creepy like. Logan thought that the poor woman was never going to let go of that where he was concerned. He'd painted himself as something he wasn't and unintentionally so. "Hey Sloane. How are you tonight? Well I hope?" He did offer his hand to her and once released, looked between the pair of them. [d]
SIow RoIIer: Aaron found himself with a glass of gin with ice and a lemon wedge stuck on the rim. Lifting it to his mouth for a sip, swallowing and collecting a single piece of ice in his mouth. It rested on his tongue and he began to chew on it quietly, slowly. His jaws churning up a lazy storm. C r u n c h... taking a slow look around. Inspecting the length of the bar and the occupants. A slow peer over his shoulder, c r u n-- his jaws froze up, and his blue eyes stopped on the sight of Lola. His grocery delivery girl. A figment of his imagination, a reality, all rolled into one. He felt himself smile but didn't show much visibly, just eyed her for a moment before dragging his eyes away. She had company, and he had a drink to finish. Scratching his neck idly, gettin' more comfortable on the stool. [d]
chronic violet: Maybe it was the way his silhouette leaned against the bar in that true noire fashion. It was so familiar to her, and yet she could not place it entirely. Before she could manage to make her way towards that particular de'ja'vu; in a periphery there was a hand sweep. A seat proffered. She smiled to the man at the table, " Why thank you, " Lola sat down, cursing the little black dress as it made her sit up straight. " Did you enjoy the set?" (d)
Twisted Guilt: The voice was a beautiful instrument. Not only could it tell a story but it could portray the details in someone's face. The sarcasm bled through her words and he could just see the creases in her brow. " Saving lives sometimes comes at the cost of an empty stomach..." He was trying to be sympathetic but that grin got in the way. " Yup I owe you one meal. And maybe if you're good I'll throw in a milkshake..." Logan's greeting caused a chuckle to spill from the back of his throat. " I'm only payin' it forward. Newcomers in town don't usually get the four star treatment..." Without the cigarette to occupy his fingers Rufus sought an ice cube. The drink had been drained leaving nothing but the cold block. Without much thought Rufus stuck index and thumb into the glass and pulled out the ice. He savored the remaining droplets that coated the outside before plopping it into his mouth for a crunch. Speaking with his cheek full of ice he forced those eyes to look at Sloane. All an illusion. " Did you get everything under control by the way? You left in quite the hurry..." <d>
Alex Vipond: "I did, as a matter of fact." Alex settled opposite her. "You've got a good sound. Have you ever thought of doing a duet?" Yeah, straight to the point. That was Alex. "I have a particular piece in mind. Have you recorded yet?" Yet. Alex was certain she would. "Bit of advice, avoid major labels. They are not what they used to be and the industry, frankly, has moved passed them."
Sloane Matheson: - Mister Creepy had definitely given her the vibe of being just that, but she could forgive and forget that since he didn't seem to be eyeballing her like she was the Lost Treasure of Atlantis, and he was a man starving for a treasure to find. Logan got a nod, and another smile. "I'm good. Hungry, but good. How about you?" The Corona came across the counter to her, and after Rufus had stolen the ice cube from his glass, a fresh bourbon was set in front of him with the thud on the wood to tell him as much. Giving the Piano Man a look, she laughed, because he'd promised a milkshake. Maybe. "What do I have to do to get the milkshake?" A brow lift, and then there was a nod of her head, that was followed up easily enough with her acknowledging words. "Yeah. One of the girls I work with called in, and they were a body short for a couple hours. Lucky for me it was one of those geriatric days, where the most we had to deal with was a few of the older generation falling and not being able to get up." She paused, took a pull on her beer, and then grinned just behind the mouth of it. "And there was that couple that got a little embarrassed. He fell in the shower, and well.. they were trying something they'd seen on a movie. It didn't work like it did on film, and he landed in the hospital for a few days with a concussion." Movie. It was emphasized because let's face it, she just wasn't going to say the word 'porno' out loud in a place like this. -
Logan Devereaux: "Like I said man, its just how we do things back home." he said with a grin. Drink was set before him and Logan was quick to pluck it up off the counter and take a long swallow from it. He was listening and it seemed there was a lot of.. owing this and that going on. Brows arched curiously as he went quite a moment until Sloane answered him and then posed her own question. "Good... little worn, but nothing a few drinks and a night of rest can't fix." he replied. As for searching for treasure? That was something he had decided to ive up on. At least for awhile. The last break up had been a rough one and he knew he just needed time. Time he was willing to enjoy with friends and work. Family to if and when he makes the trips back down south. Logan was wondering if maybe he hadn't stepped in on something... private in nature and considered movig off, but lingered a bit just to make sure before he just up and moved off. Of course, if and when he decides to move along, he'd give fair warning. [d]
Twisted Guilt: Cue the choke. Old people getting it on was less than appetizing and he found the ice cube nearly coming back up. A fist was drawn to his breast where he thumped the bone and coughed hard. " I do not envy your profession Sloane..."The pianist drew in a slow to breath to calm the fluttering of his heart. " Back home...where is that for ya Logan?" Fresh bourbon was calling his name though the man ought to slow down. He was on his third drink and could feel the warmth collecting his cheeks. " Though it's good to see that love doesn't stop at age fifty..."He add to his earlier comment about the elderly doing the dirty. <d.
chronic violet: A woman's mind is like Chicago O'Hare airport; so many planes come in and go out only until the fog rolls in. Then everything is grounded. Lola tried to focus on Mr. Vipond, while deciphering who's shadow was leaning on the bar, and all culminating in the fight she'd had earlier (with herself) in her closet. She came back to the present with a snap. " I'm sorry," cheeks turning wicked pink on their bones, " I am just, well, I'm not," She'd stop herself and the stuttering bumble she was making of this conversation. Clearly she was caught off-guard, " I'm not really a singer. " (d)
Sloane Matheson: - "Rest? What's rest?" She commented on Logan's answer to her question, and noted that Rufus was ignoring her about what she had to do to get the milkshake with the promised meal. Hm. The Piano Man was asking about where Logan called home, and she tilted her head in his direction to hear the answer for herself as well. Though let's face it, the comment about love at fifty had her cracking up. No small little twitter of a laugh, because Sloane didn't roll that way. No, she was downright laughing. Outloud, and couldn't help herself. "No. That couple wasn't old.." She caught herself, laughed again, and shook her head. "The guy was like in his early twenties, and the woman...well, she was getting her some youngun'." Poor kid was so embarrassed that there were two female Paramedics that were seeing him layed up, sprawled out, and his junk on display because the woman hadn't had the decency to at least cover her boy toy up. A swipe of an index finger at her eye, because it had really not been funny at the time, but it was more than funny now. Only further proof than even the most genuine EMTs had a sense of humor and were real people under all that medical jargon, and whatnot. -
Logan Devereaux: Hand came to pat Rufus on the back as he smirked. It was amusing. The man having to avoid choking, based on topic of conversation. Though, to be honest, Logan couldn't blame him. It was... a not so pleasant mental image that Sloane had managed to paint for them. He glanced to her. "You know you're wrong for that right?" he just smirked and shook his head before glancing back to Rufus. Another pull from the long neck was taken as he shoved his free hand into his pocket. "Home? Ah, just a little ole town outside of Jacksonville Mississippi." he replied Then it was back to Sloane. Her laughter had hm smiling and then chuckling. "You ain't right." he offered with an obviously amused tone. Another pull from his beer. It had to be obvious that he wasn't exactly from this neck of the woods. Most people could tell he was from down south. As for pinpointing, few ever guessed correctly. [d]
SIow RoIIer: Aaron's back was propped along the counter now, a lazy lean, trying to piece a few things together in his mind but he was havin' trouble. Spying another unsure glance at who he thought was Lola, at least. Looked like who he remembered. A cabin and a grassy field, but it was foggy and he ended up looking down into the pit of his drink before lifting it for another sip, trying to focus on something else instead. Plotting out his night and glancing at the crowd again, evesdropping in an uncommited way. [d]
A Creole Soul: Apparently drivign all day had taken it out of her because she was really distracted with staring at liquor bottles. So intent that she hadn't noticed the fact she drained her drink and had already dropped the cigarette into the icy remnants. Items were removed from the bartop and slid into the pocket of her leather jacket. Jacket was left there though as she eased off of the stool. Hoodie was unzipped and removed to be laid across the seat of the seat. Now the man working behind the bar was kind enough to get her a fresh glass. So fingers closed around the vessel as she moved away from the bar and through the crowd towards the bar. Eyes set on the band leader while hand rose to try and gain his attention. Denim, plaid button up shirt, hair in ponytail.. the woman looked more like part of Seattle's old grunge scene that got jammed up into the metal world. Since no one was singing it didn't hurt to ask right? -d-
Twisted Guilt: The thump to his back was much appreciated. The last thing he wanted to do was die because of a mental image. On his grave it would say: Here lies Rufus the man choked to death on an ice cube. PS Old people sex is gross. Sloane's laughter was full bodied and genuine and it coaxed rich laughter from Rufus as well. " So it was a cougar attack..."Again Rufus thought he was so hilarious for his lame jokes. Catatonic blues were forced to look up from their downward cast to focus on Logan. Weak eye muscles strained to retain the allure of politeness. " Southern boy. That explains the hospitality..."His words were chased down with a swallow of bourbon. " Sloane's definitely not right in head. Who puts jalapenos on their burger? "For a woman who fought fires he found it kinda ironic. Maybe that was just his sense of humor being off kilter. " Thought my stomach was going to fall out of my ass..."Fingers lightly touched his stomach for emphasis. <d>
Alex Vipond: Alex gave a chuckle at that. "I would have to beg to differ." He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a card, one of those elegant, embossed things on rather expensive card stock, that bore his name and number. He rummaged for a pen and wrote 'Studio 7, 110 South Horton Street, Seattle WA 98134' on the back of it. He then offered the card out to her. "Come on by, any time, place opens at noon, but I'm usually there by ten. If you give a knock and tell them you're there to see me, they'll let you in. At least jam with us. Just once." He glanced to the bar and back to her. "And he's trying to figure out if you are who he thinks you are." Alex smiled to her.
Sloane Matheson: - Logan was a Mississippi, that was where the accent was from, though truthfully she wouldn't have known the difference between Mississippi and Tennessee if one or the other came and bit her in the ass. "What's wrong with jalapeños on a burger?" She gave Rufus an almost accusatory look, and then she wrinkled her damn nose. "Okay, that was a visual I didn't need for the night." He seriously just said his stomach was going to fall from his ass. She looked at Logan, brow raised, and asking without actually speaking if he had just had that same TMI kind of moment there. "I'm sure they eat weirder stuff on their burgers where you're from, right Logan?" Then a flip of her eyes back to Rufus. "And I suppose you're the standard pickles, tomato and lettuce kind of guy?" -
A Creole Soul: It isn't rare for there to be musicians in this area, after all it is famous for that fact... and it's amount of rain. And like they say; when it rains it pours. So it was going to be pouring new voices tonight. While the band played she tok the ear of the leader and asked him if she could take a twirl with his boys for a beat or two. Hazels were focused on his face as she spoke, conveying the sincere intent behind the words. With consent she snagged a chair from a table and brought it up on stage with her. Set down near the mic stand, she plucked the mic up and sat down on the chair in reverse. The horns started slow and sorrowful before the piano began a sleepy melody. Bourbon was sipped upon before she began to croon a Jazz tune from the forties. "Good morning, heartache." Two beats of a heart before the words dripped from her lips like molasses. "You ole gloomy sight." Eyes remained downcast as she waited those two beats again. "Good morning, heart ache." Slow sip, tongue slipping over her lower lip as she started up once more. "Thought we'd said goodbye last night." BIllie Holiday would be proud. -d-
Logan Devereaux: Gaze focused on Rufus. "Born and raised." he replied with a grin. Logan finished off his first beer and signaled to the tender for a second, though, this was wouldbe goingon his own tab. The empty bottle was handed off in exchange for the fresh cold one. He took a quick sip and as it was lowered, brows furrowed. ".......And there's something wrong with eating jalepenos on your burger?" he asked in all seriousness, but then smirked. Seriously though... that was like a norm for him if he could have it. "Stranger things? Look... down south? We fry twinkies... and snicker's bars... Hell, we fry just about anything." He said with a laugh. "I bet neither of you have heard of mustard and eggs. And no... I ain't talking about French's mustard either. I mean mustard greens. Like collards and turnips." He paused a moment. "But there's some stuff that my grandparents were raised on, that I won't ever touch. Like.. Hog head cheese. Or pickled pigs feet...." he shuddered. For a big manlike him? It had to be noticable. To Sloane at least. [d]
chronic violet: The card was accepted, turned over, and inspected. Alex Vipond. Lola's perfectly arched brow crooked at the discovery. " My name is Lola Darling," she offered her hand in a feminine fashion. If he took it in his; he might find it
chronic violet: bone chilling. A coquetish smile turned her pink cheek. Wiles at work. Did someone walk over a grave? " Mr. Murray and I are old friends. We took a Ferry ride once," eyes on Aaron were glassy in the lights. Damn that Torch Singer on stage. Lola loved this song. " ...it was round trip afterall." She let go of Mr. Viponds hand and wove through the tables and chairs impeding her direct path. (d)
Twisted Guilt: " Just paying you back for the elderly sex image..." Rufus extended an index finger toward her. It was times like this that Rufus secretly desired to see expressions. It was one thing to imagine the contortion of someone's face but to only imagine in was something discouraging. Unless he could physically touch their features Rufus was literally left in the dark. Well he could see shades of gray occasionally and the outline of things when he used his ability. " Standard, boring and safe..."Yes he ate his burgers all American! No south of the border for him. Rufus couldn't hold that steady gaze on Logan anymore and closed his eyes for a second. Fingers swiped across those thin lids to rub at the muscles behind. " Is that why the south has quite the obesity problem? " Rufus shouldn't have laughed at his own comment but he did. " You had me grimacing at Collard greens. " Everything on Logan's list of strange cuisine made his stomach hurt. " I'm your standard meat and potatoes kind of guy. Quite the plain pallet..." <d>
SIow RoIIer: Aaron was on his second drink by now. Had a distinct lemon flavor in his mouth now, and he was hoping to taint it. So he lifted a cigarette to his mouth. He remembered over-hearing some banter about smoke earlier, so he hoped they didn’t mind when he sparked it and inhaled a mouthful of smoke. Mr. Murray's ever tragic-blue eyes settled on Lola again when she eventually ended her conference and started weaving through the Lounge in his direction. And he curled his fingers at her while he eyed her, gesturing her closer, to come to him. He hadn't seen her in a while and he wanted to make sure she was real. [d]
Sloane Matheson: - She rushed into four alarms, and yet the common habit of others to inhale that crap made her nose wrinkle. Bad habits, but then everyone had at least one in their life. Hers, it seemed, was liking jalapenos on her burger. The mention of mustard greens had her ready to head for the hills. Sure, she was black, or half black and that universally meant to some folks that she should love all things Southern in respect to foods, but she wasn't raised down South so that was a no-go. "Okay. You win, Logan. You got the weirdest eating habits, just for being from the South." She nodded, and raised her half empty bottle of now warm Corona to him. She wasn't taking a drink because really, warm beer was just nasty. "And y'know, Piano Man, you never did tell me what I had to do to get my milkshake." She glanced at Rufus, before giving the area around the three of them a once-over glance and then looking back between the two men as she leaned to the bar and made her plea for another cold beer. "You two need another?" She asked, before ordering. "At least one good thing comes out of knowing me.." She looked at Rufus, and then Logan with a grin. "You get drunk, I can lug you over my shoulder and cart you out of here.." Said for both of their benefit, because it was true. Dead weight carrying was a requirement of her training. Other skills helped sometimes, but that wasn't mentioned, obviously. -
Alex Vipond: His hand wasn't all that warm. It had been a while, and his temp was down to its usual 95 degrees, technically hypothermic. He chuckled as he watched her, his glass lifted and sipped from. Yes, he was feeling froggy. He'd actually had a drink, unintentionally, last night and hadn't broken out in hives. Call it testing a theory that just maybe seven centuries had cured his allergy. Rising, he moved back to the bar where Logan, Rufus and Sloane had congregated. Taking up a lean, he looked between them, then over to Lola and Mr Murray. That ferry ride... He chuckled and couldn't not think it had crossed the River Styx. "Nothing wrong with a plain palate." His was A neg.
Logan Devereaux: "Oh don't get me wrong... there's good food to be found in the south and yeah, that is a problem down there. But... what do you expect? Everything's fried, salted, or buttered." he chuckled. Apparently, that kind of cuisine didn't expand everyone’s waistline. "Look... I said that’s what some people ate...not all." he corrected and pointed a finger at Sloane with a smirk. "But yeah, I'll eat the greens." he added. When she asked if he was needing another beer yet, he gave a shake of head and held up his fresh one. "I'm good, thanks." Sloane then mentioned something about a milkshake again. "Look... if you're in need of a milkshake that bad? I'll take you out for one. How's that sound? My treat." he added. When she grinned though... he cut his gaze to Rufus. "She’s grinning... I think that's a signal that you and I might need to run like hell." he teased. An elbow to Rufus before he laughed a little and looked back to
A Creole Soul: "I turned and tossed until it seeeeeemed you had gone. But here you are with the dawn."Breath and sip before a crooked grin caught her lips. "Wish I'd forget you.....but you're here to stay. It seems I met you when my Looooove went away. Now Everyday I start by saying to you......Good morning, heartache, what's new?" The song was slow and the words were pronounced succinctly. You had to do it justice lest never try to sing it at all. While she paused the band filled the room with the insturmental lullaby that really made the song. "Stop haunting me now. Can't shake you no how...just leave me alone....I've got those Monday blues straight through Sunday blues...... Good morning, heartache, here we go again." Quick sip of the bourbon for that burn. "Good morning, heartache, you're the one who knew me when. Might as well get used to you hangin around....good morning, heartache, sit down." Eyes drifted down to the liquor in her glass as she soaked in the music. -d-
Twisted Guilt: Back onto the subject of Milkshakes! Rufus had nearly forgotten he left that preposition open. " You gotta wear a dress.."Even though Rufus couldn't see Sloane it would still be a good challenge. From what he gathered the woman portrayed herself as one of the guys. A hand eased outward to touch the bottom of her shirt and fingers inched along the hem. The man wasn't trying to cop a feel! But he could tell her attire wasn’t of the girly variety. Not that Sloane wasn't feminine but her prioriteries were elsewhere. She was genuine person. The blind man felt the elbow to his side and he laughed. " I may be blind but I can out run most..." <d>
chronic violet: " Buy an old friend a drink?," random thoughts fleeted by; why Seattle of all places, why now when her holiday was just beginning? But, oh, how she missed his smirking grin. And, this song? How could that singer have possibly known the meaning of it, to them both? A chill ran up her arms, prickling the fine down. Lola took the cigarette out of Aaron's fingers, turned it 'round, and took a drag. " I am ever so glad you are here." (d)
Alex Vipond: Alex took another sip of his scotch, rolled his gum around to the other side of his mouth, and nodded. So far, so good. He wasn't even itching. Maybe, just maybe, he was cured. Alex's gaze went to the woman on stage, listening to her as she sang. She felt it. The words. The music. He drained his glass and got really froggy, no pun intended, and ordered another.
Sloane Matheson: - Milkshakes. It had been on the table at the diner when she'd had to leave and she'd not been able to enjoy a single sip from the straw. Rufus had enjoyed it for her, but it wasn't the same. Steelhead was a monster when it came to American cuisine, and she'd been craving one of their burgers and milkshakes for a week solid, and had been forced to leave it sitting on the table to Rufus' capable hands when the call came in she was needed to cover. Logan was offering her a milkshake, but then Rufus was finally giving up the ghost on what his conditions were for getting a return on the one he'd had in her stead. "A... dress? At Steelhead?" She gave a tug of a frown, until he was skimming his fingers at the hemline to her t-shirt. Good old work tee, with the station house emblem on the front pocket area. "That's a steep price for a milkshake." She looked toward Logan then and gave a thumb towards Rufus. "He drank mine earlier, because I had to go in and cover a shift for someone. And.. I can lift you. It's a necessity for the job. Fireman's carry isn't just for you big boys. I got the muscles to pull it off, buddy." She tried to flex her 'guns', but only ended up laughing instead, and the move caught and tugged at the hemline of her shirt that Rufus was feeling on. So, hey now, Sloane was ticklish, and she had to work at trying to squirm out of the grip to her shirt before either of those two figured that out. -
Logan Devereaux: Logan listened as he looked between the pair for a long moment as he listened and took a couple swallows of his beer. He wondered if Sloane would cave and wear a dress. When she was talking about what caused all this, he nodded and chuckled. When she flexed... his hand reached out and gave her mucles a feel. Brows arched. He looked dead serious. "Yanno... I think you might be right..." test squeeze. He chuckled then. "As for the milkshake... offer still stands and mine doesn't even require a dress.." he teased. He gabbed Rufus by the shoulder and gave a squeeze and chuckled. [d]
SIow RoIIer: "Might even buy ya' two." He smiled at her when she was finally standing in front of him, leaning out away from the bar and planting a friendly kiss on her cheek. The song did indeed bring back some memories. He didnt mind her stealing his cigarette. He leaned back on both of his elbows and just watched her, letting his blues travel along her features in front of him. "Yeah? I've been stalking you, I'm just bad at it.. took me a while to catch up." And whenever he got a moment, he went about ordering another round of drinks. One for the each of them. [d]
A Creole Soul: As the band wound down she piped up again. "Stop haunting me now. Can't shake you no how.....just leave me alone. I've got those Monday blues straight through Sunday blues. " Glass was sipped from as she rose from the chair. "Good morning, heartache, here we go again...good morning heartach, you're the one who knew me when. Might as well get used to you hangin around.......good morning, heartache.......siiiiit doooown." The words fell from her lips and faded into nothing. Mic was turned off and slipped back into the cradle of the stand so she could freely grab her chair and step off stage. The band continued playing the last few notes as she disappeared into the crowd back to her belongings at the bar. Just as she stepped up she drained the remainder of her Bourbon. Finger lifting for a refill. -d-
Alex Vipond: "Never underestimate the little guy. Or gal." Alex offered out. It had shocked the shit out of RJ, who stood seven foot, when Alex picked him up off his feet. Course Alex wouldn't have done that had it not been necessary. And definitely not out in the open. When his phone went off, he pulld it from his pocket and checked it over, a slow smile curving his lips. He fired off a text in reply.
chronic violet: Smoke trailed across her perfect, porcelain cheek when she turned to look at the stage. The cigarette was passed back to Aaron's mouth deftly. Lola wasn't much of a smoker, he just made it look so good she couldn't resist. Aaron's phone rang. He was slinging his jacket over and around his shoulders. " Yes," she nodded, " it's a date. He'd left the burning cigarette in the ashtray and Lola took one more long drag of it before stamping it out entirely. When she looked up, he was gone. Didn't that just make a girl crazy? She had to stalwart her resolve for another set anyway. The bartender brought her another martini. Dry. One olive. (d)
Sloane Matheson: - Rufus was caught up in one of those text message things, or maybe it was another call from his sister? She turned then to look toward Logan with a smile once he let go of her muscle show of course. Alex had said it right. Never underestimate the little guys, or gals in her case. "I'll remember that, and I'm going to argue the dress thing until I turn blue and need my own oxygen." She winked at Logan with another smile, and then took up her freshly replaced beer for a swallow. "You're a big guy, you ever think of doing security or something, Logan? I know of a few places the guys at the station house work at that like having big guys around to make their customer base feel better. Safer. And, well, that the guys at the firehouse weren't bad looking by most women's standards, never hurt either. "And I bet with that Southern boy charm you got, you could make some kind of killing." -
Logan Devereaux: She didn't seem interested in the offer and so he'd drop it for now. "Security? No... I enjoy what I do to much to do anything else really. Maybe some day though." He gave a shrug of broad shoulders. He smiled and finished off his drink before he pulled out his waller and paid for his tab. Heslid his gaze toward her. "Southern Boy charm? I... don't think so. I think I lost my charm a long time ago." he gave a small smile. Once his tab was paid, he shoved his wallet back in to his back pocket. "I need to head out...Was good to catch up with you." he said. Nod followed. Gaze turned to Rufus and even though he was busy with the phone, Logan clasped hs shoulder. "I'm out man... take it easy." He took a few steps back, gave a nod to them both and turned to head out. It was off to his truck and back to the hotel. Sam was waiting on him. [d]
A Creole Soul: Glass was set down so the bar tender could refill it and while he did so she grabbed her hoodie. Easing it back onto her frame while looking around the lounge. Might be a nice hole in the wall to hide and forget. And since she was still standing she fished out a few bills out of her pocket in order to pay her tab and that last drink that had been poured. This was the type of place to really feel like home. -d-
Sloane Matheson: - Everyone was heading off or out, and she was starting to really think it was something she said or did to drive everyone off. A slow roll of her shoulders, and she reached over to pay the tab with the bartender for her two beers with a slide of a bill across the top then gave a wave toward those who were visible, and that she might have known before making it for the parking lot and that beloved Charger that would take her tired ass on home. –
chronic violet: " You were spectacular," Lola smiled towards the Torch Singer. " My room-mate, Jules, she was supposed to do this gig tonight. I was just filling in. Never even whistled a tune outside of the shower. Anyway, " Lola felt like she was babbling, " it was my pleasure to listen. Cheers to you." She tipped her glass gingerly. (d)
Sake And Spice: Sakura was just sitting at the bar, lost in her own little world. The sake with wassabi was to be honest the best she had in a long time, and that tender such a wonderful person kept on bringing her them, so being a good patron she handed him her debit card to pay for the drinks, luckly she could hold her liquor or shed be a total mess by now."Make sure to take fifty out for yourself!"Sakura smiled brightly, turning those dark chocolate eyes towards the club for the first time, noticing all the new faces. Well at least no one messed with this buxxom asian bombshell in her pants suit and glasses..it was the glasses she thought that kept the creepers away.-end-
Alex Vipond: Alex was staring at the picture of his wife's boobs that he'd been texted. He lifted his drink, killing it, and slid his hand into his pocket, all the while staring at that picture. Money was slipped from his pocket and he pulled his eyes from his phone long enough to pull a couple of twenties and lay them on the bar. "See you guys later." He looked up and around and realized that those he actually knew, had already left. That, my friends, was the power of breasts.
chronic violet: Mr. Vipond had absconded with his shit-eating grin. Men. Lola shook her head ruefully. Weren't they all so bespelled by a curve or a valley? " Pleasure to meet you," she said returning to her conversation of songs and songstress', " I am Lola," She'd offer her hand to shake. " I only moved to Seattle 2 days ago," Truth. Sort of, " I think I like it here." (d)
A Creole Soul: Her name was Lola, she was a show girl.... sorry, Mannilow moment there. With the Bourbon drained in one gulp, she eased the leather jacket the rest of the way on and nodded. "Pleasure, shar. I'm Arelia." The hand was eyed for a moment then taken for a quick shake. Brows knitted at the coolness of the woman's flesh but chaulked it up to the drink she had been holding. Hand was brought back and stuffed into her pocket. "Just passin' through an' I need to go get a room. Adieu." She shuffled into her jacket and hoodie and prepped to head back into the cold. -d-
chronic violet: Paranoia great Destroyer! Lola much preferred the Kinks. *smirk* " Me as well. Pleasure to meet you, Arelia," Lola slid her empty glass over to the bartender. On her way out she cast a smile in the direction of the curvaceous lady of Asian descent.