2019-11-17 - Non-Competitive

Yeah so it's raining. With the top up on her Maserati, that doesn't stop Erin getting out. She's inside right now up to the counter, just arriving. Dressed up just a little, she wears a club dress, because she's going out and she's intending on having fun! The dress is light blue, forms to her curves and the shorter skirt flutters when she walks. Her heels also steeple her height right up there from 5'9" to super tall! . Her skin tone helps, paired with her hair and dark eyes, it all goes great with the color of dress. She's got a small clutch in hand and a walk of confidence despite the rain that is just letting up, and the damp floor. She heads for the bar for one of the available seats.

Everyones not dressed up with a place to go. Hell, some people didn't even dress up. If Moses even owns nice clothes is a mystery solved only by someone being brave enough to dive into the suitcase he's living out of. Regardless, he's there, slumped at the bar as he works tirelessly at building a pyramid out of those little plastic shot cups bars like tis use to serve jello shots. You know the ones cluttering up landfills in the name of jiggly booze! Yeah those. It's all in the game of architecture! He also has a glass beside him, along with a phone that's face down and being ignored. All of this done in his jeans and a rather classy Batman t-shirt.

Turns out you don't have to look expensive to get shitfaced in public!

It takes Moses a moment before he notices the blue dress and the familiar face. In fact, she's up next to him before he manages to place a name with the face. "Your shoes are /way/ to nice to be in this bar."

Are these pickup lines? Not everyone's a poet.

Easily amused, Erin watches Moses building the great pyramids of Gray Harbor before he even recognizes her. Seating herself, she props a forearm on the bar while right beside him. Was he drunk? If she knew him, she'd wager a yes. "If you ate/drank all of those jello shots, it's no wonder you're drunk. Just tell me they weren't all green, because if you're going to lose them all, I want it all in technicolor."

Settled and comfortable, she glances down at her shoes and teases him in return. "That's just because you never take me to any of the classy places. A girls going to give up one of these days," she teases. As the bartender comes around she orders a mimosa. Old habits died hard.

"There are classy places in Gray Harbor?" She gets a look, complete with a single arched brow before he turns to behold his...lopsided work of semi-art. "This is not as easy as it looks," he determines aloud. Though it totally is when one actually possesses hand-eye coordination. His was left in the chair at work. Yesterday.

"I was very diverse in my jello consumption. But the yellow one tasted like lemon pledge so fuck that." Beat. "And I'm not drunk." Lies. "You look like you're doing a lot better. Decided to give up the plague, huh?"

"Which is why you sling ink and are not an architect." Erin inputs smoothly, the lopsided smile making a reappearance. "Actually, I own a Maserati. You forget, in that, Seattle is only a few miles away." Grinning at her own joke, she eyes the jello cups with a discerning eye. "I'm not sure I want to know, but I'll bite. I'll ask anyway." She waits a beat like it's an all important question. "How do you know what Lemon Pledge tastes like?"

Amusement is stamped alllll over her features. "Well I'm glad you're not drunk. It means when you ask me to dance you're not going to fall all over me." Lips twist and she wears a half smile. "I've been over that flu for a long time."

“Oh I’m not telling you that story,” Moses allows with a chuckle, “You haven’t earned that privilege,” the privilege of hearing his embarrassing stories. “I’m also not going to ask you to dance. I don’t hate you. I see no reason to abuse you like that.” Again, he smirks but he also pushes the stool next to him out with a foot before he returns to his work. The very last cup is set atop the pyramid…successfully. Even he looks surprised.
“I’m glad you’ve been over that for a long time then.” It takes Moses a moment to pry his eyes away from the plastic cups, but it’s more of a thought thing than shyness, “I avoided it, somehow. I suppose that’s a shining example of my popularity in this town, huh?” He pauses at that, “Sit. I wont dance but I’ll buy you drinks.”

"I suppose it's on a need to know basis and I don't need to know?" Erin muses over the thought of the Pledge flavored Jello Cups. Tapping a nail on the scarred bar surface she considers him. "No amusing stories, no dancing, just architecture? This should be an early night at least."

Her own drink is delivered, it's a mimosa, not difficult to make. But Ohhh so good. A fizzy sip of the juice tickles her nose and she crinkles it marginally. "Popularity? I don't know about that but I'd say it said a lot about your immune system."

Having got her own first one, Erin isn't adverse to more, she slips into the seat beside him and twirls one of the plastic cups. "How about a game of pool? I can't promise to be good at it, but I know the rules at least."

“I can actually play pool,” Moses muses after a small pause, narrowing a gaze at the pool table across the room, “on normal days. Tonight may not be a night to play for money.” He stands at that, taking his drink with him. Behold…he’s only mildly out of sync with gravity at the moment. “Also, my immune system is pretty good but I really think is had more to do with my antisocial approach to the town that made the difference. It’s hard to get sick when you spend all your time watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy reruns.” She gets a smile, but he also waves her toward the table. “Come on. You can beat me. I’ll even be an okay sport about it.”

"Oh I admit to maybe having something to do with your antisocial approach to the town. Just trying to keep you safe. Everything turns into a dream. Or so it seems." Erin smiles and gets to her feet, her drink in hand. "We don't have to make wagers, but I'll rack first. Any additional games, you lose you rack."

He ushers her along, Erin goes willingly, she doesn't provide the quarters, after all, where would she keep them in this dress? "So you're not really competitive? Let a girl beat you?" Pulling out the triangle, she places it at the end of the table and as soon as the balls are released, she squats a little without showing her underthings to put the balls in so she can arrange them in a few. "I'm really not that good and I'm not even a drink in. Maybe I'll get better as the night goes on."

Moses has quarters…after he asks for change that is. It only takes a second and he’s there, she’s racking and he’s fetching cues…which really takes no effort. There’s no such thing as straight cues in a bar. “I’m not, no,” he allows about competitiveness, “not in much of anything really. I never had the energy for that kinda stuff. I’m more of a ‘take things as they come’ kinda guy.” True story, one made evident when spending just the smallest amount of time with him. “I’m a few drinks in so I’m sure that things will level out.” This is a promise, and even gets a small wink before he turns to check his phone, tucking it away into his pocket a second later. “You wanna break, Princess?”

Standing, Erin arranges the balls, using her thumbs to compact them all tight against the front so he's got a good target to shoot at. The triangle is lifted and spun in the air, which doesn't turn out cool at all when she misses it and it lands on the balls, loosening them up. There's a sheepish look and she tightens them again, lifting the triangle and sliding it back in its place.

I don't break what I rack. That's up to you." Catching that wink, she laughs in return, but she makes no efforts to step too terribly far from the table. "Sometimes I think I'm competitive, but it depends on what. Maybe it's in my Addington blood. Keeping up with the Joneses or something." It's a wry look she gives along with a shrug. "I'm getting better at not being so competitive. I think."

“I wouldn’t know about any of that,” Addington’s or Joneses, “I’m simple folk.” He watches the triangle spin fall short, merely arching a brow at her as she rights what she’s wronged. When she’s done, he leans, lines up his shot, and breaks.

It’s nothing spectacular, nothing goes in, but nothing comes off the table either. This is considered a win by Moses. “There’s nothing wrong with being competitive. I think, I just don’t care to prove anything to anyone. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any connections here, so I don’t care what anyone thinks. Then again, I can’t think of a time in my life when being overly competitive has ever done me any favors.” The truth is that everything Moses does is at the same lazy, unrushed pace. “Maybe that’s why I’ve been contempt to just work a chair at Ricks.” Rick being the owner of the shop (NPC) that Moses has managed to nail down a chair in. “My biggest drive to open my own shop is based on pushing from Cali and the fact Love swears she can find me a good location.”

"Addington is my last name. Joneses is a name from a movie, Keeping Up With the Joneses or something. Like whatever they get you have to get so you look as good as them or whatever. I don't know, I don't do that anymore. I'm just.. Erin."

She watches as he breaks and smiles her approval, seeming impressed nothing flew off the table. Maybe that's an issue for her as well, something she'd done before. "I think I'm competitive in some things, but not so much in others." She takes up her stick, chalks her hand lightly then uses the smaller to chalk the cue.

Circling the table until she's behind the cue ball, she leans over the table marginally, not flashing anyone, and she draws back the cue after aiming for a stripe in the side. It's a soft shot and she sinks it, thereby claiming stripes for herself. She walks over to where the cue ball rests and lines up another shot. She misses and stands, turning to give him a smile.

"So you're not interested in getting your own shop? Why wouldn't you? I guess being a business owner requires a lot more work, but maybe more rewarding knowing every piece of art that leaves is done by your hand.. Built up a name and a rep."

“No I got the reference, I just wouldn’t know anything about it. We grew up different.” The last part is said easily, but with perhaps the faintest chuckle in his tone. Moses watches her shoot, a brow arching again, gently as she sinks and claims stripes. Damnit, no one likes being solids.

When she misses her second shot, he too follows suit, circling the table, lining up his shot, and missing in the process. It frees him up to drink again. “I’m fine having my own shop. I had one in LA, before I moved. I guess I just don’t feel like I need to control everything, then again ol’ Ricky’s not exactly leading the best life at the moment. It’s not the most stable job. I should probably prepare for him to kick the bucket, get shot for sleeping with someone’s wife or just vanish.” All these things are possibilities in Gray Harbor. “I have a decent enough rep in other cities, and Cali’s good. That’s two good chairs, which isn’t a bad start for a small shop. I guess I’ve just been lacking the kick in the ass I need.” Beat. "What about you? You still working at that gym?"

"Anyone who wasn't raised around here grew up different." Erin realizes it and she offers him a smile of acknowledgement. Remaining on the side, she keeps one hand on the cue stick and watches him. Surprised he misses it, she moves in for her own shot. "I didn't know you had your own place. I should have. Your ink is great, what I've seen of it."

Dark brows lift and she muses, "I guess I've never met Cali, did you both move here together? I'm sure there's plenty of buildings. Even inside the strip mall would be a good place for a shop."

Aiming again for a shot, she misses. No one is winning this game anytime soon. "Yeah I still work at the gym part time and a doctors office. Considering applying at the hospital for ER Nurse. I'm leaning that direction anyway."

“You’re a nurse?” Okay Moses didn’t know that. Or did he? He looks shocked regardless. “Oh, yeah thanks. I was looking at the strip mall. It gets traffic and the upkeep wouldn’t get away from me.” He watches her miss and moves for his own shot. This time he sinks one. But he’s hers.

You’re welcome.

“I took over the shop when my stepdad retired. They moved here. Why I don’t know, but they seemed to like it okay.” Finishing his drink, the empty glass is handed to a passing waitress and a new request is issued. “I couldn’t be in the medical field. I’d probably snap at the first sign of flu season. No one would ever see me again.”

"You're the best player on my team. Hell, you sank one for me, doesn't that mean you get to try again?" Erin waggles her brows and moves to the table with her stick. "I'm applying for the position now that I've finished schooling. So I'm not a nurse yet. I'll see if I can handle it once I'm actually in the position. I'm doubting myself some."

He had left her looking good on the table, the shots could like up well, if only she could sink them. She leans over and aims, the ball sinks so she aims at the next one and sinks it too, but the cue ball follows it in. "Oops." Stepping back, she leaves the table to him.

"You said they seemed to like it okay? Where are they now?" Erin watches him for his turn, shrugging as she considers. "I'll have to see how I do at it. Next month."

“They were old and retired, they didn’t know better,” Moses allows about his parents ‘liking' the town. He follows her around the table, finding a decent pot to drop the cue ball so he can line his shot up. Any mention of him being best on her team merely gets a chuckle. His next shot actually sinks a solid. “They died.” It’s spoken rather simply and matter-of-fact before he reaches and lines up his second shot. “Car accident a few months ago. That’s why I came to town. To deal with that, and all the paperwork that comes with it.” His next shot misses, allowing him to back away from the table and accept his newly delivered drink.

"Car accident. A few months ago. In Gray Harbor." Three sentences in one short mix has Erin swiveling to look at him instead of the pool table. "God, you made my heart skip a beat and not in a good way." Erin settles a hip against the pool table as if her legs just won't hold her up at the moment.

"Sorry it's just suck a coincidence. What sort of car did they drive?"

Moses watches her with an almost detached gaze. His eyes move between the game, his drink and the brunette, but in the end the game wins his focus. She’s not taking her shot, so he slips in to take yet another. He has to catch up after all, and he’s not above cheating. “They were in an RV. A commercial truck hit them head on. Driver was drunk or texting or something..” clearly Moses didn’t try to hang on to the nitty-gritty details. “It was instant. That’s where I got Penelope. She was my moms.”

"I'm.. I'm sorry. About your loss and all. Losing your parents and all. At the same time. In a wreck." Erin doesn't seem to notice he's cheating, she reaches for her drink and finishes it off. Orders another one before settling there to watching him play.

"I'm glad you got the pup, she seems like good company. I'm actually considering getting a dog." She's just talking and talking. She smiles, it's rueful. "I'm sorry."

Moses rolls a shoulder, but he doesn’t stop taking shots, even after he misses two. She’s still winning. It’s a sad reality. “Yeah well, life’s not fair and all that shit.” Someone’s not very big on sympathy by the looks of it, “I actually sent Penny to live with Taylor. That lasted a week. I ended up having to drive all the way to San Francisco to pick the mutt up.” He misses again before finally straightening. “I think it’s your shot. I’m not getting anywhere.”

Erin walks over and takes a shot, she sinks a stripe, but then the cue ball is surrounded by solids. "I lost both my parents a couple of months ago, here, in an automobile accident. But it wasn't really an accident." She shoots, she misses and knocks two of his in. So she's a little distracted.

"Oops. I don't think I'm so good at this. Who's winning anyway?" She glances down but doesn't count. "I'm glad you got Penny back though."

“I think we’re both losing.” Moses watches her take her shot, knocking two balls in, and like her he doesn’t bother to count. Instead he tilts his glass back, draining it before he hisses and casually flips it over on the nearby table. “Yeah, she’s okay,” he says of Penny before he again checks the time. “Hey, you wanna get out of here because I kinda do. I suck at this game. I may not be competitive but…” no one likes to display their failure to the world!

"God yes. Let's get out of here." Erin is so over the pool game. Maybe it wasn't an amazing idea. She walks over to collect her Jacket before realizing she left it in the car. Why did she drive? "Where to?" She doesn't sound hesitant or anything, just curious."Lead on, you're the one with the ideas."