2019.04.14: Scouts: Part 1

2019.04.14: A Scout
Dawson and Alicia talk over some things when Izayah scouts out the new owner. Part 1 of 2
IC Date	April 14, 2019
IC Time	Morning
Players	Dawson,Alicia Kane, Izayah
Location	Styx and Stones
Spheres	Mortal+, Garou

Styx and Stones - Pool Hall

Sunday morning at the Styx and the workers aren't here - yet. Dawson gave them the morning off to go do that thing that people sometimes do on Sunday mornings - like sleep in. The long blue tarps still block off the back of the room but the kitchen is already fired up and the scent of bacon and eggs fills the oddly quiet space. It's empty this morning, devoid of customers while the white-haired owner sits behind the bar and sips on some fresh coffee.

Her arms crossed, Alicia stands outside the pool hall, arms crossed over her chest, hood raised and her head lowered to add to the 'nothing to see here' that her usual presence exudes. Waiting for a few passer-bys to move on, she pushes open the door and heads inside, moving straight up to the bar, resting her forearms against them as she leans closer, staring up at Dawson.

Her arcane fades away and recollection likely returns to the man, 'Oh. Her.'. Just like he did to her, blue eyes lock with his, she doesn't look entirely happy. "What the /fuck/, Dawson?", nope, definitely not happy, "You said no cameras. Where are they?", glancing back, checking corners, searching for something more miniature, perhaps, looking up at the bar, behind the bottles.

She caught him mid-sip and Dawson almost spits out the drink as the woman becomes more...memorable in front of him. "Dammit," he splutters and lifts his hand to his mouth to catch some dribbles. The owner steps back from the bar and grabs a napkin from behind it to wipe his mouth before finally answering her claim. "Uh...cameras aren't up yet in the back - so not sure what you're talking about." he explains and steps back up to his coffee mug. "So you can just slow your roll there girl...-especially- after that little thing yesterday."

It's morning and Izayah is not much of a morning person. The large latino with the shaved head is lumbering down the street with his usual 'I own this place' swagger, dressed in worn down jeans, a black shirt and his leather jacket. He has a lazy stare about his dark eyes, which may come from the joint that is tucked between his lips. Blowing out a trail of smoke as he finishes the last few puffs, he pinches the bud between his fingers and lobs it to the ground with a flick. It's the woman though, that enters the establishment this early in the morning which caught his attention, chin lifting upwards to the sign, followed by the scent of breakfast. With the last puff of smoke past his lips as he exhales, he moves to the door, reaching out to tug it open.

Pushing herself away from the bar, Alicia takes a frustrated step back, "Whatever. How do you explain the Ape, then?", turning away and moving to the nearby wall with all the memorabilia, looking it over as if expecting to find something looking straight back at her. "The big guy?", an arm raising, hand high above her head; he must have been huge. "I lower my guard for two minutes..", a shake of her head, "He only appears when cameras are around. He never just..", mulling over words for a moment before coming up with, "Appears.", hands briefly thrown upwards and dropped in a 'can't believe it' gesture. And then the door is opening, breaking their private conversation, and she quickly freezes as if expecting to see the 'Ape' once again. The person this time, however, isn't quite that big, but he gets a wary look. "They've found another way of tracking me. They must have.", she says to herself, so quietly even Dawson struggles to hear it, her head lowered as she starts pacing back toward the bar. "Cool wall.. by the way.", she adds, motioning back to it.

"Here before I picked the place up and don't have the drive to do anything with it yet," Dawson answers the lady's question about the wall and takes a sip of coffee. He doesn't much seem to care about her concerns about being followed by the big guy because, ultimately, it's not his problem. But he does find her paranoid caution rather infectious. When the door opens and the latino guy walks in he gestures to the blue tarps covering the back of the room and explains that they're renovating so not to expect much.

As if on cue, Tommy, a large guy with no neck wearing the white apron of a cook, steps out from between two of the tarp panels carrying a tray with a plate of food on it. The smell of eggs and bacon can't be missed as he walks up and sets it in front of Dawson by the bar. He doesn't seem to notice the girl with him until the white-haired owner asks her, "You hungry?"

As his dark eyes scan the pool hall for a moment, Izayah is giving everything a critical once over. Rolling his broad shoulders so that they crack loudly, he stares at the woman for a few moments to get a better look at her, then shifts his gaze to Dawson. "Sup, cuz'?" He drawls out in his thick hispanic accent. "This your shit hole? When's it gonna open officially?" He stalks forward with his usual lumber. There is an air about him, one that would make the muggles uncomfortable.

Back to the bar, Alicia drags a stool closer so she can sit directly opposite Dawson, shifting herself up onto it. "You buying?", she asks in response to his question. Leaning forward, she takes a look at the food that Tommy has presented, nodding appreciatively. "He's a wizard.", a glance to the big man making his way back to the kitchen, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips.

When Izayah's voice makes itself known, she turns to look at him, up and down as if deciding on his worth, but the question is one she wants to know the answer to as well, so her attention fixes back on Dawson. "And don't fuck it up.".

The Latino's question draws Dawson's eyes as he takes the plate from Tommy and thanks the man for the food. He can't help but take a nibble from the bacon and relish in its savory goodness before answering him. "Yeah, s'mine. Shouldn't be too long. Just needed to make some improvements to the back; better kitchen for this guy," he gestures to the cook and then around the room. "Had some water damage and shit. Nothing big - few more days." "And get a plate for the lady here Tommy...." The strips of chewy bacon on the plate sit next to a pile of seasoned, scrambled eggs with some green flecks of something mixed into them. Herbs? Seriously - herbed eggs...here? Tommy nods to Daws and turns to walk back towards the back and hesitantly turns to look towards Izayah once - a wary look on his face before stepping behind the blue tarp.

Continuing to glance about, Izayah takes out a phone and taps along the glass a few times as if he is sending a text. "Cool." He grunts out, then starts to wander about without a care in the world as he gives a few sniffs. "This the kinda place that will be a trouble magnet? Little bit of Rousehouse mixed into it?" He asks as he peeks under the tarps at some of the pool tables.

<brWith a simple nod of thanks to Dawson, she gets to eat today, Alicia turns her attention to watch Izayah moving through the room. An elbow on the bar, head on her hand, and she continues to stare for a while. "Apparantly.", a glance at Dawson briefly, accusingly, "They have no cameras, so if it's peaceful trouble I can't see anything bad happen. Not intentionally.". Another glance at Dawson, a silent question to see if she spoke out of turn or not. "And the juke box has some good tunes.", she adds. Sneakily, she reaches slowly over and grabs a sausage from Dawson's plate, slowly brings it back across to her to nibble on.

"It's a pool hall," Dawson answers the man flatly as though that should explain everything. His eyes never seem to leave the Latino as he wanders around the place to have a look-see. Alicia might note that he's basically ignored the food on his plate and his body is just slightly tense - as though in anticipation of something to come. "I expect that there will be plenty of trouble here - just sort of comes with the business. I'm not worried about that - just rather not need to involve anything official if I don't have to."

As his phone dings a few times, Izayah looks amused as he stares at the screen. He tucks the phone into his back pocket. "You're in luck today my dude." He says as he rounds the table as he heads back towards the bar. "Very lucky, seeing how you ain't got any cameras 'round. You see, I was going to cut both of your throats." He motions to him, then to the guy in the back, "Then have my way with this bitch right here on the top of your bar. But, this place got some deep history with my fam, and the security system you already got in place is not the type I really wanna fuck with. Yet. So, looks like I get to be a paying customer in the near future." His teeth flash widely as he stares at Dawson, curling his lips back in a predatory manner. "If I were you, amigo, I'd look into hiring someone that's real good at getting blood off the floor." He gives a click of his tongue against his teeth, then starts for the door. "Looking forward to grand opening. Hasta la vista."

The normal reaction from a young woman might be panic, worry, a search around for a place to escape; instead, Alicia bites into the last of the sausage as she continues watching Izayah. Her now empty hand drops to the top of the bar, black painted fingernails tapping against it, her eyebrows lowering into a faint frown when Izayah passes her on his way to the door.

And despite her bravado, she's wise enough to keep quiet, letting Dawson deal with the issue as it's his establishment. Pushing away from the bar when Izayah has passed, she moves over to the juke box, pulls out enough coins for one song and slots them into the machine. A few button presses and out blasts some Creedence Clearwater Revival. Always keep a sense of humor, that's her motto.

He knew the guy would be trouble. Yup. From the moment Izayah walked into the place he just had that weird sense about him. This guy's done some bad things and he can feel it, almost smell it on him. His texting and threats were almost expected - as though he were some kind of scout for a local gang trying to swoop in and claim the place as part of their territory. He was expecting it eventually - just came a bit sooner than he expected. "Be seein ya," Dawson says to the man, not exactly worried about the threat but not ignoring it either. His eyes stay focused on the Latino as he makes his way for the door and doesn't seem to break that lock until he's outside.

As the song comes on, Izayah gives a snap of his collar about his leather jacket, strutting with his usual confident machismo. He plucks a fresh joint from his pocket, sparking it with his lighter as the crisp scent of MJ fills the air. He looks to be in a damn good mood all of a sudden.