Styx and Stones - Pool Hall
The entrance door creaks open and in comes Grinch, eyes narrowed at the sight of biker-dominated patrons, an unamused hmph as the man treads over to the bar. His hand swiftly runs through his slicked hair, looking just straight up immaculate, sliding onto one of the barstools slowly. His eyes run through the menu for a split second and, like most other patrons here, order himself a pint of beer. Then a question, as he locks eyes with Danny. "Hey, who's the fella in charge here?"
With a swirl of her glass, the JD circles around a few times, before she drops the glass onto the top of the bar. Looking up at the nearby question, Sierra looks over Grinch and asks, "Who's askin'?".
But then the man himself appears, catching his movement out of the corner of her eye, Sierra throwing a thumb in his direction while still facing Grinch. "That would be him."
From the back room, Dawson emerges carrying a baskets of loaded fries and heads towards the bar. Deftly weaving in and around the slightly rowdy crowd at the back table, the guy seems like he's quite comfortable in the place. He slides the basket down near Sierra as though they were either for her or she's welcome to grab some and he looks between her and the new face. "S'up?"
"Me. I'm asking," the guy, who looks like your typical skinhead neo-nazi gang-banging white trash, says in reply. Grinch isn't exactly keen on speaking with anybody else? he just needs to see who's the boss around, and it's just so that he'll arrive seconds later. The beer is settled in front of him, the guy paying upfront of course, and chugs a mouthful. He sets the glass down and raises his head up to regard Dawson, staring right at him with golden eyes. "Heard the place's hiring. Ex-cons, yeah? You're looking right at one. I'm just tryna earn some bucks and stuff, you know. Place needs, ah, security?"
If there's anything that can distract her attention, it's the fries from out back, Sierra sliding the basket closer and dipping in, popping a few in her mouth. Pale blue eyes stare across at Grinch, an obvious assessment being made, while quietly munching.
She's not going to get involved in this one, it's Dawson's business, so she washes the fries down with more JD before popping some more in, though the glass is also given a raise in thanks to Dawson.
"Security we got. I need people to work the floor." Dawson begins, giving the guy a quick glance to note the tatts and things. "So if you just came to find a job crackin heads this ain't your place." Though the place is known as a rough joint, pulling someone in who wants to fight isn't something he seems to be interested in. "But...if you -can- hold your own...that will make keeping you around a lot easier."
As Sierra munches on the fries he asks her if this new guy would survive the audition. "Whatcha thinkin...we got that new girl...uh...Wendy or something just started last night." He turns back to Grinch and asks, "What kinda money you lookin to make. Assuming you survive your first night -and- Meat Week, it's a hundred bucks a night."
"Security we got. I need people to work the floor." Dawson begins, giving the guy a quick glance to note the tatts and things. "So if you just came to find a job crackin heads this ain't your place." Though the place is known as a rough joint, pulling someone in who wants to fight isn't something he seems to be interested in. "But...if you -can- hold your own...that will make keeping you around a lot easier."
Grinch sniffs. He contemplates as another mouthful fills his mouth and runs through his throat, savoring the taste of alcohol in his mouth as he sucks his teeth in. "Right, whatever. Normally I'd lob a spit right at for a shitty offer like that, but you're lucky cause I really need a job right now. You sayin I'm not getting any money til /after/ my first week, /AND/ I'll be working the floor? Just clarifying. Maybe the shit in my ears got in the way somehow."
"I mean..", Sierra starts, words interrupted by another munch of fries, before she continues, ".. he's got an attitude, which is no bad thing. He's funny, he thinks you're the lucky one..", another few fries, a quick munch followed by a mouthful of whiskey. "But he looks the business.".
"A bit..", lifting a hand, swirling a finger while trying to place the word, ".. gang banger.. but..", a shrug of her shoulders, "It's your business.", the woman returning to her fries, taking a few more, before sliding the basket in offering across to Grinch.
"Only the first night's free," Dawson clarifies. "If you survive that you work your first week as a proby or as we call it, 'Fresh Meat'." He continues and takes one of the fries from the basket that Sierra's munching on. Clearly he doesn't mind sharing but he's half-forgotten about them while dealing with the new guy. "Fresh meat gets a hundred in cash every night they work. You're the first here in the evening and the last ones to head out near dawn. If I think I'm getting my money's worth then we'll see what happens after, but if you start trouble - you're out." He takes another fry from the basket and enjoys the chilli cheezy goodness before adding, "...if anything happens, just get them outside. Oh...and you eat for free."
Grinch is never one to reject free food, and so a hand reaches over to grab some of the fries offered for himself? not too many though, he still knows some manners as well. "Thanks," he says with a click of his tongue, then he turns to face Dawson again. At first, his offer for a hundred bucks each night doesn't garner him anything from Grinch, but the free food definitely seals the deal. "Now that just sounds much better. Fucked if I scrap some grease off a biker's arse, but free food?" A nod of his head. "I'll keep my mouth shut. Not a problem."
Leaving the fries to the guys, Sierra gathers up her glass in both hands, holding it in her lap as she watches the two converse. "At least they won't be grabbing his ass, like the last woman we had in here.", a shake of her head, the glass lifted for a drink.
Then she's leaning over, waving Danny closer, "Get him another one.", a hand disappearing into her jacket pocket, pulling out a twenty that she slides across to the bartender. "And top mine up while you're there.", the glass raised, drink finished, empty pushed across to Danny.
"One more thing," Dawson asks, pausing his hand as he was about to reach over the counter to seal the deal with the guy. "I need to be sure that you got your temper under control and that it's not going to be a problem." He looks over to Sierra and then back to the skin-head guy with a wry smile forming on his lips.
"You ever had your ass beat by a girl?" Oh, where's he going with this.
Grinch bobs his head. "Oh, I got my temper under control, all right. Like I said, I'll keep my mouth shut. I know how a bunch of fuckwits can act up, we're cool," he further assures. He extends his own hand now, to seal the deal. A hundred bucks per night doesn't sound half-bad, even if you had to scrap the floors. Looks like fries is all his now, and so he enjoys it, and looks at Danny when another drink is served to him. "From who?" He asks. But then that question from Dawson pops up, and he blinks, unsure what to say. "You being serious?" He's not about to hit on a girl who just gave him fries, is he?
The drinks are soon delivered, another beer for Grinch, that Sierra pushes across to him, her glass of JD refilled with a fresh tinkling of ice inside. "It's been a while since he saw me fight.", she explains, a glance up at Dawson with a look that ensures he knows he's in trouble later.
"Back in Texas, we were runnin' with a biker gang.. he's talking about making it again here.", motioning to Dawson to show who she means, "Anyway, one of the guys was getting out of hand, beating on the women because they didn't want to take his little sausage, so.. he couldn't beat one off after I dealt with that.".
Dawson looks between Sierra and then to Grinch. "If you get outta hand - I won't have to deal with you. She'll kick your ass and throw you outside...in...
front...of...everyone." He drives that point home in the hopes it would be enough of a deterrant that the guy won't start anything. "Can you start tonight?"
Grinch lifts his eyebrows up at Sierra as she nudges a new drink across to him. "Hey, appreciate it. I really do," he says with a wink. Then he turns to Dawson and raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, she can shove me up and down that wall and kick me in the guts, you got it." Looks like he's not gonna resist. Or he just really needs the job. "Yeah, for sure."
It sure is strange, this barely five and a half feet tall woman who doesn't seem to have a lot muscle, at the same time has the look, an air about her, that she could end most people in here without breaking a sweat. "No problem.", Sierra replies, lifting a hand as if to deflect the appreciation, then, while the hand is up, she stretches it out to grab a few more fries before they go cold.
Quickly munched on, she leans back again, gathering up her own glass. "You got a name?", she asks, "That's Dawson.. I'm Sierra.".
Dawson reaches across the bar to seal the deal with a handshake with the guy. "Give me your -name-," there's a bit of emphasis upon the one word as though he weren't asking for a nickname or a street tag but his actual name. "Don't expect anyone to remember you until after your first week though." He turns to grab Danny, the Latino bartender beside him and quickly introduces him. Then he asks the man to get Grinch to the back so he can grab a t-shirt, the only concept of a uniform they have here. "Show him around to the kitchen staff and how to put orders in. After that - get him on the floor."
Grinch definitely can feel the aura around her, but he objects from making any comments about it. Maybe it's just how she dresses, or her displayed demeanor, but there's definitely something about her. He hmms, and shakes Dawson's hand firmly. "Uh huh. People call me Grinch, but Kraig's the name. Since you're my boss, I guess you can call me whichever." He shrugs his shoulders. He tilts his head when Danny is grabbed and ordered to show him around? understanding the signal, 'Kraig' rises from his stool and follows Danny along to the kitchen to have his uniform set up.
"I prefer Kraig..", Sierra notes, watching Grinch heading off around the back, before turning to face the bar, resting her forearm on top to support her leaning weight while looking up at Dawson. "What do you think?", she asks, once he's out of regular hearing range, "He looks more street than biker, they might consider it a challenge.", her free hand closed aroud her glass which rests on the bar.
"I'll give him this..", a glance over, watching Grinch disappear from sight, ".. he comes across as sincere. He's down on his luck. We've all been there..", a look back to Dawson, ".. right?"
Dawson nods, "Yeah...that's what I got off him. He needs the money but doesn't have much to throw at a job other than what he picked up off the street. He's used to people paying him to break heads...and I need him to clean tables." With a faint sigh he looks around the room and just sort of sees what kind of system that he seems to have created here and shakes his head, "I swear...if you would have told me that I'd own a bar..." he just grins at her and reache for whatever's left at the bottom of the fry basket. "But he might be handy if we got any big problems. You know like...Izayah and his crew. I'm just waiting for one of them to pull the trigger, ya know?"
There's a huff of amusement from Sierra, nodding in agreement with Dawson, "A bar..", starting to lift her glass, though keeping it low while she adds, ".. did I ever tell you I wanted a job? I wanted to break from all the trouble and actually settle down?", a shake of her head, followed by the glass rising further for a small drink.
The glass clinks back to the bar, ice rattling, "That was before the Harbingers. But, you know.. shit happens, things change.. I'm not having a family now.". A tap of her nails against the glass, a row of soft 'tinks' at the contact. "I'm first in line if Izayah tries anything.".
The t-shirt, uniform, whatever, doesn't really suit the fella when he walks out with it. He won't admit it, but there's an audible grumble when Grinch walks out with that silly shirt on him, and starts scraping the floor. Props to him though, cause he's actually not so incompetent at doing the job. Poor guy probably had similar, if not far worse chores, back when he had to spend time in the penitentiary. Nevertheless, he looks to be doing the deed dilligently.
"We keep you in t-shirts so ya don't have to worry about getting your own clothes trashed while you're working." Dawson calls to the new piece of Fresh Meat; otherwise known as Grinch. With that being settled he turns his attention back to Sierra and lets out a faint sigh. One more thing checked off his to-do list. "Yeah, I was wondering if you were going to kill him or fuck him...or like...both or something. Could never get a read on you with guys. I don't think even you know which way the coin's gonna roll until it does."
"He was almost there, he was..", Sierra brings her fingers close together, ".. that close, then the asshole wanders off to stick his tongue down his sisters throat.", a shake of her head, the thought of it still giving her a squicky shiver, a wrinkle of her nose in distaste. "Now I'll just kill him. If it comes to that.."
Looking over at Grinch, she points him out, "I need to get one of those t-shirts. They're actually not bad.", and then her hearing picks up the door opening, a glance over to find Alice wandering into view. She stares openly at the woman for a moment, then turns back to Dawson, quickly drinking some whiskey. "I don't have a lot of time for guys.".
From the lowly position of a 'janitor' of sorts, Grinch's voice can be heard while he's cleaning something under a table. "And by the way," there's a brief pause while he tries to stand up and straighten his pose, a finger pointing to Sierra. "I'm always up for a spar, you know that?" A grin crosses his face. "Fuck, I need something to do other than this, at least," he continues. "Any meatsacks in the kitchen or something, I can use as a punching bag or whatever?"
The tall Englishwoman enters the bar in the same way she always does-- Wait! No, this time she is not alone. Accompanying her is a man in his thirties-to-fourties, with grey hair despite his younger age. He is wearing rather unremarkable clothing, with a generic hoodie and jeans that would make him blend seamlessly into a crowd.
Alice leads the man around the bar as she takes a seat, and the man sits beside her. They are talking quietly, and she raises her hand to Danny -- two fingers raised this time instead of one.
"How ya doing tonight Lady?" Dawson asks Alice, noting that she's pulled up for two fingers rather than the single she usually goes for. "Bring ya friend along too?" he asks noting her escort.
The last of the drink is downed, the liquid burning a path down Sierra's throat to warm her tummy, the drink then dropped onto the bar. That's enough for her for one night. "Anytime, Kraig.", she replies, leaving her seat to walk over to the juke box, digging around in her pocket to find some coins so she can slot them into the machine. It's time to get some tunes on to liven this place up a bit.
The first choice has some blues guitar blast out of the speakers, something immediately recognised by a few of the bikers. "There's a gym a couple of blocks over..", she says, her attention still on the the music choices while speaking to Grinch, ".. that's where I go to let out some frustration.".
A few more choices made, then she's heading for an empty pool table, while the singer claims he's 'B-b-b-b-bad.. Bad to the Bone.'.
Grinch goes to grab a bucket of water from the kitchen, maybe wash a bit of the rag too, before he returns to scrap up some more dirt and grime on the floor. But before he gets even more shite on his Styx & Stones t-shirt, he walks up behind Sierra to whisper a few words in her ear, then just drops to a table nearby for a clean-up.
