2019.04.25: A Very Bad Idea

2019.04.25: A Very Bad Idea
Dawson and Devon discuss upcoming events.
IC Date	April 25, 2019
IC Time	Early Evening
Players	Dawson,Devon
Location	Styx and Stones
Spheres	Mortal+

“

"You'd be the most loved man this side of the tracks."

”

- Devon

Styx and Stones - Pool Hall

Early evening at the Styx and the crowd is fairly average. The regulars are scattered around the room either having somewhat secret meetings, playing some pool or both. A few random bikers have claimed one or both of the back tables - a space generally reserved for them so that they're out of the way but still close to the drinks and to the food. A white-haired man, Dawson, stands behind the bar and is manning the station with a cup of coffee in one hand and resting his shoulders against the rear, brick wall.

Devon has gathered up all of the salt and pepper shakers, ketchup bottles and whatever else sits on the tables during the evening and has them all at one corner of the bar. She's refilling them all, getting them ready for the later rush. It's terribly exciting, but it's passing the time between customers.

Dawson slides down to where Devon's doing her thing. "Hey...how's it going?" he seems genuinely interested in how she's suriving after her time as 'fresh meat'. "Everything ok?"

Devon looks up as she's popping the funnel into the next shaker, eyebrow raising up a little. "Oh, uh, going fine." She seems surprised he's asking. "Same 'ol, different day. You know how it is. Met Lenny earlier." Tactful change of conversation? before pouring in the salt. "He said you were giving him a job."

"Barback...temporary-ish. He did some work for me off-site. He's just here to help Danny haul ice from the back." He drops his voice a bit so that the other bartender won't hear him as easily. "His leg's been mothering him - but he won't say anything. Ya know?"

Devon nods, "Yeah, I've noticed. Gets worse the later the night gets." She doesn't look over towards the man in question, having the sense to just continue with her work. "So you do that alot? Collect yourself up the outcast and forgotten souls that roam the streets?"

He can't help but let a small smile break through the usually icy facade he tries to maintain. "Hey...keep that to yourself. I gotta rep for being a hard ass and all that." He bends down and grabs a bag from under the bar and sets it on the bar for the woman. "Some new t-shirts so you can wear them instead of your own. I wouldn't call them a uniform because we're just not that cool - but I got them made for an event and we have extra." The shirts, should she investigate, are just black tees with the name on the back and an eight ball logo on the front.

Devon smirks faintly, "You keep it up I might have to start calling you George to his Lenny." She watches the bag come up, rubbing her hands on her apron before looking inside. She reaches in and hunts around, pulling out one in her size. "Nice. Thanks." Giving it a light shake out she goes ahead and pulls it on overtop her tank, settling it into place before fixing her hair. "Almost look official. Spooky."

"I know, right?" Dawson smiles and drops his voice once more to speak so that he's not over heard, "If anyone messes with you - and you don't want it - just tell me. I won't have my people fucked with." For a moment, -just- a moment, he could possibly sound like a descent guy. Without letting her do much more than nod back to him he leans back as if to let the point drop.

Devon tilts her head a little as she looks at him, a faint smile of her own showing up briefly before she nods and picks the salt back up again. "Anything exciting going on?" Finishing off the last few bottles before giving the tray a tap or two. Screwing lids back on follows. "I might be a little late tomorrow, have an extended class, but I'll haul afterwards. Maybe fifteen minutes tops."

Dawson just waves the missed minutes off as though they weren't that important. "That's cool. Don't sorry about it." He thinks for a second and then mentions a few ideas that he's been playing with. "Well, there's the wet-tshirt contest...but that'll cause a fight or five. The Ralley in the Rear - but that usually would be sort of a day-time thing, and the jokes just write themselves."

Devon lifts an eyebrow as she listens to the list. "And you'd have to get the girls in and out without a riot. Which, in and of itself could be a hoot. Though depending on where you get the girls, they might be willing to supply more than entertainment." Shrugging, without an ounce of judging in her voice. "In which case you'd be the most loved man this side of the tracks." The second option makes her pause, "Do I want to know?"

"I got some connections that could probably get me a dozen girls here and if I paid them a flat fee for the show...and they were then able to do their own business on the side after - I'm sure that things could be worked out." Dawson leans forward to rest his forearms on the bar's counter while he's thinking through this. "Maybe...a hundred bucks a girl...to cover her...performance and kinda let whatever happen, happen. If they want to go back with some of the guys I won't stop 'em."

Devon nods and lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. "And if *I* were a business person running the event, I'd also make sure to jack up the price of well drinks because those ladies ain't going sober. Pay or no pay. Some of the customers have forgotten what soap is." She starts stacking finished bottles onto a tray. "Maybe organize a ride for charity? Gets some money for the kids, makes the guys feel good about themselves, and it just happens to end up here where they can get drunk?"

Dawson snickers a bit and nods. "Yeah, I'd be jacking up the price of drinks on any kind of special event. Charity runs would be good - hell, shift the name around and do a Ralley on the Roof. Throw Tommy up there with a smoker and a barbeque. The smell would pull 'em in for miles."

Devon rests her hands on the bar, tilting her hip to give one foot a rest. "And it might pull in some riders that don't normally come into this part of town. Give 'em a reason to." She shrugs a little, "Couldn't hurt. Either they show or we've got barbeque leftovers for a few days. Just don't do the titties and the kids on the same day. Might give the wrong impression." She starts to laugh.

"Heh, yeah." Dawson smiles and makes a mental note to look into what Tommy would need for the roof-top rally, "Uh...you gonna be out the night of the contest?" he asks - hinting that she may not want to work with all those bikers horned up and drunk. Devon makes a sound, one that ends with a sigh as she looks over at him. "I will if you need the hands, hell, even help in the kitchen. But if you don't, probably going to tap that one out. Not that I'm not up for a rowdy time, but I don't want you or the guys getting busted up over me if I didn't need to be there in the first place."

Curiously enough, Dawson seems rather relieved at the woman's decision. He didn't want to tell her that she shouldn't be there - and risk offeneding her sense of pride. "I...would rather you be out of sight. I'll have the guys cover the floor that night. If you need the money you could help Tommy out in the back - though I'm not sure they'd be down for much food with all of the other...entertainment."

Devon laughs and shakes her head, "Nah, it's fine. I think I can find my own entertainment on a night off. And I'll manage to only be mildly jealous that I'm missing a hell of a party." A grin follows and she lifts the tray up to go start putting things back out. "Oooh, ladies night. Or is that another ball of problems? Girls ride too don't they?"

"Well, I think that Miss Eva -does- have a few boys...if you'd want me to look into it?" Dawson winces at the idea - uncertain as to how he'd arrange such a thing. "But for now...let's stick to her girls."

Devon starts laughing hard enough that she puts the tray down. "I didn't mean...no, not like that. You just makes the drinks cheaper, encourages women to come out and hang." She's still grinning as she starts to stock the tables. "Good god, I don't even want to imagine how catty it would get if you brought boys for rent."

Dawson holds up a finger, pausing the woman from leaving the bar area while he yells something out. "Hey Tommy?!" The portly cook pokes his head out from the back room - tryind Dawson in the sparse crowd. "Yeah bud?" With a wicked grin and a side-glance to Devon, the white-haired guy asks if the cook would be interested in a wet undies contest for some biker chicks?

The good-natured guy starts to bust a move and twirl his cooking towel suggestively - broad smile stretched across his face as he turns and heads back to his kitchen. "Well...there's one for ya." He smiles and turns to the Latino bartender nearby, "Maybe we could get Danny to work it too?"

Devon pinches her lips together against the smile as she watches Tommy do his little scootin' dance. Sighing and shaking her head as she looks down. A squinty look is turned Dawson's way afterwards. "That's seared into my brain. Thank you." Yeah, she's still laughing underneath it all. When she finishes up with that she walks back to put the tray away. "I'mma go grab a smoke before things get nuts."