Miguel ducks in through the door before straightening up and up and up some more, looking over the room slowly and deliberately. Miguel is fuckoffnormous but moving with a slight degree of care towards the bar.
As Miguel enters, there's a young blonde woman doing exactly what she's being paid cash to do: flit between tables, collect empties, bring people their drinks, and so on. She regards the ungodly huge guy with something like surprise, but her expression is always so sleepy-eyed that it's hard for MUCH surprise to register. "Holy shit," she murmurs, before saying: "Hey." She looks over at Dawson: "Boss? Which ones are the reinforced stools?"
Just another Wednesday night out at the local family pub for Fenix and his kid. Except that this ISN'T a family pub. Which is a good thing because Fenix does NOT in fact, have a kid. This is a biker bar, and dangerous. So is Fenix. Let's get the chocolate into the peanut butter and see what happens!!!
Devon gets herself a beer while at the bar, saving Wendy a trip as she rejoins Sumter at his table. The door swinging open to let more people in, has her tilting her head. Her attention focuses on Miguel for a moment longer than Fenix, then she calls out to Wendy. "Hey if you start getting in the weeds just let me know. Brought my shirt just in case." She toes her bag lightly before looking back to the big biker at her table.
Sumter nods his head to Wendy with a smile. "Sure, I'll take another beer," he says. He draws a steady pull from his cigar, puffing a billow of smoke as he looks back to Dawson. "Sure, I'll make sure y' got the address. Although I'll warn ya, it's a ways out o' town."
When Fenix enters, Wendy's attention turns away from Miguel (mostly). "Hey," the sleepy-eyed, blonde waitress greets the newcomer, with her usual flat quasi-charm. "Take a seat, you know, wherever." She says it almost in a monotone. "Lemme know if you want, like, a drink, or whatever." She looks over to Devon, and gives her a more concrete smile than the young blone usually gives -- Wendy trying to reassure the off-duty one that she's good. For now.
Miguel tilts his head at Dawson and in a deep bass rumble of an intimidating voice "Fee Fie Foe Fum." And he rests his hands on the bar top and waits. Turning his head briefly to look at Fenix.
The white-haired owner roars in cheer at the giant's words and pulls out a bottle of beer for the man. With a quick flick of his wrist, he pops the cap off and slides it over telling Wendy that he's good for at least two more on the house. "
Wendy almost kind of laughs. It's like a chuckle mixed with a sigh mixed with not emoting very much. "Dude, you say that like we have, like, anything else for sale here." Wendy approaches the bar to get Fenix his cold, cheap, domestic beer, and nods to Dawson at his information on Miguel's beer credit.
Miguel nods to Dawson before looking down at the beer for a moment before picking it up and turning to watch the room. Observing the goings on for a moment before sipping lazily at his beverage.
Sumter takes the slip of paper, setting his cigar in the corner of his mouth as he digs into his jacket for his phone. He thumbs at the screen a few times, then nods his head, tucking both paper and phone back into his pocket. "Real good talkin' atcha, Dev," he says. "Y'all take care now, y'hear?"
Dawson seems to watch Wendy work and comes to some kind of conclusion about her. So, with no real warning or ceremony, he reaches down below the bar to fiddle with something and stands back up to fold his arms over his chest and wait.
The music, whatever it was playing in the background of the place, dies and is replaced with the starting chords of ACDC's Highway To Hell. Those who are long-time vets, and the crew of the bar knows what this means. Someone's getting out of Meat Week. Danny quickly starts pulling empties off the bar to make room and the white-haired owner pulls a chair over to make a makeshift set of stairs for those who are ready to make their last walk as a piece of meat.
He waves his hand to Wendy with a warm, probably shit-eating smile, "Come on girl..." and encourages her to come and make the climb. "You wanna help her out Devon?" he asks while the percussion kicks in.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMaVii7nnj4 Highway to Hell - ACDC
Wendy knew that this might be coming. Not when, exactly, or what might set it off, but she's been warned about the 'graduation' process by a couple of the regulars with loose lips. Approaching the bar, Wendy's cheeks are a little pink. "Dude, I haven't, like, dance since... fuck, classes when I was, like, eleven..." Still, Wendy accepts the boss's hand in getting up onto the bar. Once there, she pauses for a second, looking out at the assembled bikers -- not quite a deer in headlights, but close.
Wendy's also wearing Doc Martens on the bartop, which can't be good for it! Her outfit of 'bar-branded shirt' and 'worn-out old jeans' also aren't the best dancer's wardrobe in the world. Still, once she finds the beat (not hard, it's AC/DC), she DOES start to move. The dance moves are pretty basic -- moving her shoulders, moving her hips, the occasional side-step -- but to a group of drunk enough bikers, the important thing might just be that there's a young woman dancing in front of them at all.
The sounds of AC/DC starting up has Sumter breaking into a huge grin. He reaches over to snuff his cigar out in the ashtray, whistling sharply through his teeth. "YEEEHAW! C'mon girl!" he booms, pumping his fist in the air. He laughs deeply, applauding as Wendy starts her dance, eyes twinkling merrily beneath the hang of his shaggy gray brows.
Devon turns as the music changes, her hand on her backpack. She sighs, looking over at Wendy with narrowed eyes. "Almost dodged the bullet." A trudge over towards the bar and she puts her bag down behind it first, safely tucked away. Coming back to the front she waves a hand at the other waitress, making her help her up onto the bar. She watches Wendy dancing, "Oh yeah, we're gonna have to work on that sweetheart." starting to dance herself. There is the possibility there has been some dancing that included a pole in her lifetime.
"Once there was a maiden... who stood at the center of every dance. Back then, she knew all the dances. She never missed a step. One day, she heard something in the music as a singer dropped the beat. It taught her the joy of dancing poorly." Hey, when did Val get here. Bloody arcane. Apparently not very long as she is visibly high as shit, and not even to the bar yet, still walking over. Her eyes glazed over, face slack, voice distant, as if she wasn't fully in the room. "Love has no rules." A sudden shake of her head and a slow point over the bar as she orders. "Salvation ala mode, and a cup of tea."
As Danny, Dawson, Sumter, hell even Tommy and the kitchen staff come out to watch the Bar Dance. They're all clapping in time with the basic beat of the song as the two women move in varying degrees of skill. As the song comes to a close, Dawson offers his hand up to Devon and yells for everyone to give it up for her. One of the more colorful comments hurled from the back table was something close to 'Old Meat' - since she was one of the first people to join after the reconstruction. Then, with just Wendy perched on the bar, the white-haired owner informs everyone that she's no longer fresh meat. "From now on, this here is Wendy (or whatever name she gave)...part of the floor crew." He smiles up at the blonde haired woman warmly and offers his hand to help her down.
Wendy at least tries! Her moves might not be that hot, but there's at least some foundation there to work from. "Dude, I haven't, like, danced other than, like, moshing in like seven years," she asides to Devon. She's flushed pink but actually smiling despite herself. And, with Devon up there showing her up, Wendy does try to mix it up more, mostly by kinda-sorta copying what Devon's doing, just... less skillfully.
When it ends, Wendy accepts the hand to help her down, and still has her smile on -- still blushing, too. "Thanks, Dawson," she murmurs, before her eye is caught by Valentina sitting at the bar. "Ah, shit," Wendy mumbles, instantly turning a deeper pink.
Devon smirks and takes the hand to hop down, giving the fellow in the back the two fingered salute as he calls her Old Meat. All in good fun though. She settles on her feet and looks over at Val as she speaks, the smile fading with a sigh, "There goes my girly boner." Bending down she snags her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder as she points towards the backdoor. "Gonna be in back if you need anything Boss."
Break
"No Bueno." Val states, before her eyes blink once, clearing a bit, and she offers up a sigh. "Need some time to untwist your panties Devvie?" A few blinks, and then a slight narrowing of her eyes as she tilts herself back and forth in a chosen stool for a moment, tsking once. "Texas Texas Texas, need the scoop?"
Sumter whistles again, applauding as Wendy and Devon as the song completes. He picks up his beer, guzzling a long swallow. He glances over to Valentina, arching a brow. "Scoop?" he asks. "Y' got news?"
Once Devon and Wendy are down and things can return to whatever is considered 'normal' at the Styx, Dawson turns to the person who he -swore- wasn't there a few moments ago and shrugs. "Hey...", Dawson smiles and reaches for his coffee mug for a quick sip. Danny fills her drink order quickly but also a bit confused that he didn't see her earlier.
Devon starts to walk for the back door, turning around as she gets to it to take the last couple steps backwards. "The status of my panties isn't something you'll ever have to worry about." She winks, and the finger that's offered up is less good natured than the one before. Then she pushes the door open and heads into the back.
Wendy watches the exchange between Val and Devon like a child watching two adults fight, eyes going from one to the other, and back, and back again. Then she looks at Dawson, as if he might have an explanation, but her attention very quickly returns to Val. "How bad was I up there...?" she asks the pink-haired woman, sounding... well, chastened.
"Hey." Val nods once, hand raising up to give a finger gun over at Dawson. "How's it hanging?" Another nod, and another blink. "Hold on just a second." A deep breath in, an exhale. "Dora the Explorer, all on her lonesome, decided to uproot the library and change where the club meets. She also decided that Cosplay-DJ is no longer allowed to be part of the party." Val's eyebrows raise upwards for a second, but then her voice softens and she looks to Wendy with a tilt of her head. "Does it matter? Good or bad is pretty irrelevant, what other people think of you, less so. What matters is if you felt it or not."
Sumter's good humor sobers considerably at the mention of 'Dora the Explorer'. His easygoing grin becoming a dark, somber frown. He picks up his beer and guzzles a long swallow. "Well. Good for her," he grumbles. "An' li'l Miss Sith Lord kin kiss my hairy ass, fer all I care. We're better off without 'er. Hrmph."
Val's answer to Wendy makes the blonde have to pause for a second, before she mumbles to herself, "Uh, yeah, I guess." She looks like she's holding in a laugh -- maybe Valentina said something the waitress finds funny. Who knows. She's not saying. As the discussion turns to talking about 'Dora the Explorer' and 'Little Miss Sith Lord,' Wendy falls silent, because she would have zero idea what's going on there.
"Missing the point there Texas. Don't really give a crap whether you like DJ or not. Not my concern, not my decision, and you are a big enough man to make your own." Val spreads out her hands broadly, palms up, as if to make sure that what was just said was not taken as an insult to Sumter's choices. "I'm not exactly the hugest fan myself, to much like me, but opposite side. However, Matter just tried to declare herself queen. No meeting, no discussion. Moved the whole shebang, and unilaterally decided to kick out Mind." There is a much longer pause there. "You know, entire reason we share power. Bam, out the window. Gambler likely ain't gonna be to pleased. Me, I am still trying to catch up myself, Teenage Witch is in shock. Weeaboo ain't to likely to be pleased either." A grunt there, and a shake of her head, eyes back to Wendy. "Good, then that is the part that matters. Music is meant to be felt."
Looking between Val and Sumter, Dawson tries to look disinterested at the whole subrosa discussion - at least for a while. He sips at his coffee, flips through his inventory papers and lets them discuss matters. "Ya know bud...I can let you borrow my office," he turns from the big, beefy guy to Val and smiles, "...if you want to start drawing diagrams and stuff." He takes a sip and adds, "You know I ain't got much but...if ya need it."
Sumter grunts softly. "Well," he says. "Ain't a whole lot -I- kin do 'bout it. I mean... the rest o' Chronos decided not t' put me in the hot seat. An' that's fine. But still... she's the one organizin' the parties. She gits t' pick the venue." He harrumphs. "Not as it matters much t' me. She went her own way an' left me heartbroke. So... she's welcome t' whutever she gits." He looks up at Dawson and offers a nod. "Thanks, chief," he says. He looks back to Val. "We kin head on back if y' wanna talk further."
