2019-12-04 - Shameless & Shamelesser

Wednesday night isn't the club's busiest night, but there's still a decent crowd caught up in that weird sorta lull between one holiday and the next. A good number of them are out on the dancefloor, bodies flailing to the bass, but Sparrow hasn't made it quite that far yet. She's camped out on a barstool, seated sideways while she watches the dancing. Beyond her neon red hair and her shimmery violet make-up, she's otherwise dressed darkly tonight in black boots, black jeans and a black sweater stylistically torn on the right shoulder to reveal some pale skin, a fading bruise and a black bra strap below. Tonight's cocktail is colorful, too! Something red-and-green which might be considered tropical were the weather warmer, but which passes readily for festive this close to Christmas.

Hera hasn't been around to all places in the town, and tonight, like any night, is one for clubbing, at least maybe? She heard that there were people who were good dancers so, might as well be adventurous to try to see what it out there. She comes in wearing a typical black dress that looks good on most women. In this case, it's likely no exception. To compliment the dress she wears high heeled shoes but they likely can't be heard as the music is probably much louder. She ponders a drink and, instead of the standard wine, she goes to order the festive red and green cocktail, again, likely being a bit bold for now. Hopefully the drink isn't THAT strong.

There is laughter from a hightop along the side of the room. From the high-and-tight haircuts on this crowd, it looks like it is a bunch of cops or something, out for some drinks and looking for some tail, perhaps. (It is mostly a male group.) For his part, Gabe Quintanilla is here and he's had a drink or two, but he doesn't seem quite as enthusiastic as the rest of them. So he is headed for the bar to get himself another drink, which is usually how one solves these things.

"Hey, just another one of these," he says, holding up the empty longneck he has before then looking to the person next to him.

"Sparrow?"

"It's good," Sparrow croons to Hera as she orders the same thing. Of course, good is almost certainly subjective, favoring those who like sweet. And maybe a little sour. Chances are, the cocktail's mostly cranberry juice, Midori and lime. She lifts her glass toward the stranger and takes a sip, toasting to their shared tastes. In dark clothing and bright drinks. She catches her name behind her mid-sip, eyes going wide with curiosity and then just kinda holding like that for a couple seconds even after that curiosity's sated. It takes her a moment to bring up a bright smile, to croon, "Looking good, detective. Didn't figure this to be your sorta place, but you've never really been what I expected."

Hera takes a sip of the drink and blinks a moment. "Wow, you aren't lying." She says when she sips at it. "I haven't taken the time to enjoy too many mixed drinks, but this is a good one." A lifted glass is offered in salute too. Then, she sips it again and puts the glass down for a brief moment. "Lively place." she observes and the cop, she offers a friendly nod to him as well. Her mood seeming happy enough.

Alison makes her way to the bar from the dancefloor, reasonably close to the others, slightly out of breath. The shorter woman's clad in a red bandeau top, matching red vinyl pants, midriff slightly exposed, pumps suitable for dancing. Basic makeup, fire engine lipstick, hair's done up in a ponytail, red locks dangling behind her bare freckled shoulders.

She'd been out there for a little while, heading straight into the group of people rather than for the bar initially. But now she's ready for a drink. Drinks? Well, alcohol, either way. She waves down a bartender, and breathlessly, "Hey, can I get a.. fuckin' pina colada? A double?"

Her expression's closer to frustration than anything else.

Gabriel, does, in fact, look pretty nice. He's got one of those dress shirts designed to be worn untucked on, and some slacks, and looks, more or less, like he belongs in a dance club at this hour.

"Put it on my tab," he tells the bartender of the new beer as he then glances over at Sparrow.

"Am I intruding?" He gestures at the spot next to her, asking if he might join her, it seems. "Maybe I could even lure you to the dance floor." He then turns when Alison appears at the bar, a sympathetic grin at her order.

"Is that even something you make as a double?"

Hera whistles for a bit as Alison come in not too thrilled at, whatever. She doesn't ask but she also doesn't get in the way of Gabriel and Sparrow's potential conversation or dance. "I think she needs a drink." Seems like the 30 something redhead has a nack for stating the obvious. "Just, don't hurt yourself." She can't help such a comment, the fellow redhead appears to be younger than she.

"You aren't," Sparrow assures Gabe, though she doesn't offer any immediate answer to the enticement which follows. Maybe because she's distracted by the redhead and her order. With a snort of laughter, she assures the detective, "Of course it is. Twice the malibu." She lifts her drink toward Alison approvingly--and maybe dips a look down at all that red-red-red--before looking back to Hera and noting, "Pina coladas are also pretend-festive. Can imagine that they're snowy white. If you wanted to continue your exploration of mixed drinks tonight. In the spirit of the holidays." She takes another sip of her own as her attention rounds on Gabe again. This time, with a nod. "Alright."

Alison glances over at Gabriel, a glint of recognition in her eyes. She raises a hand in a brief wave at him, then shrugs. "I dunno. I like pina coladas." She looks over at the bartender.. "A big one, I guess?" And then back at the cop. "I just need some booze in my system. Dancing isn't doing shit for me right now."

Sparrow's neon hair catches her eyes at some point. "Oh, hey, from the Pourhouse! I love your hair. I wish I had the balls to dye my hair." Alison's drink comes before much longer, and she takes a healthy swig from it immediately after it's handed over. "I should have just gone to the Pourhouse instead. Half the bloody price."

When Alison turns towards him, it perhaps registers for Gabriel just who she is. He nods his head in reply to the wave, but doesn't say anything. Just that return nod of hey. "What are you trying to get out of your system?" he wonders, curiously, of the woman, as his new beer arrives.

And then Alison knows of and greets Sparrow, and so he turns his attentions to Hera. "Gabe, by the way," he welcomes the woman, drawing her into their little circle of three with the introduction.

Hera reaches for her drink and takes another sip of it. "Well, the dance floor is probably a good place to help others deal with frustrations." She turns around to get a good look at it and turns back to look at the small group. "The music sounds good enough" When the introduction is made though, she raises her drink and offers a smile, "Hello, I'm Hera. Nice to meet you."

"You've got a great voice," Sparrow chirps to Alison when she mentions the Pourhouse, smile going all wide for the compliment to her hair. "Most magical thing about hair dye? It's not permanent." That bit of wisdom comes with a quick wink. With names making their way around, she offers, "Phil," even if she'd answered to 'Sparrow' just a minute ago. She shares the detective's curiosity about what that extra large pina colada's for, but there's a flicker of a look toward the dancefloor. Then toward Gabe. And then she's back to her drink.

Alison shakes her head. "All of my girlf--" Her voice hitches for a moment as she cuts herself off mid word. "All my friends are busy or out of town lately. I just wanna hang out and it pisses me off." She takes another long draw from her drink, sipping through the provided straw. Better to not muss up the lipstick that way.

Ali blushes a bit at the compliment to her about her voice. "Yeah? If you mean the karaoke, I think the song worked for me, but I kept running out of breath. Terrible." And then about hair dye! "Yeah? I mean, I know, but I'm afraid of bleaching mine. I'd love to have, like, pastel blues and greens? But it'd turn out like shit without bleach. One more way in that blondes get all the fun."

She grabs a stool, spins around, finally spotting Hera. "Oh shit, is it half off for redheads tonight or something? Hi. I'm Alison." She looks back at Sparrow. "..I think you count."

It is indeed redheads night tonight! Okay, no, not really. But there's more auburn off toward one side, where Rhys is having a brief conversation with one of the bouncers, who looks a little apologetic despite the fact that the manager looks entirely calm about whatever's being discussed. Serious, but calm. There's a sheepish nod from the almost-foot-taller man, who gets a bright grin and a quick clap on the upper arm in return before he returns to duty, and Rhys strolls in what's probably a trajectory toward the bar, pausing to chat to a customer here and there. He's in navy slacks and a navy dress shirt with a cerulean knit tie, under a cream sportcoat with a brown-and-blue plaid pattern. 'Look professional but also like you belong in the nightclub' is an interesting needle to thread.

"Sparrow definitely counts," says Gabriel to Alison, nodding his head when Phil is added in on the redheads list. "And if it's half off, then I'm making you all buy my drinks." But it is not, sadly, actually, redheads half off night.

So sad.

The detective seems to notice that look from Sparrow, so he grinds to Alison. "If you want to down that and try dancing your blues away, you can join us, Alison. And Hera." He turns and includes the other woman in that, too, offering a hand to Phil from her stool.

Hera finishes off her drink and goes to stand. "Dang" she says, "Forgot to let Hans out before I go." The tasks of being a pet owner don't really end. "Have fun." she waves to the semi strangers, "And try to be safe. No telling what is out there in the middle of the holiday season."

"I totally count," Sparrow confirms with a wide grin to Alison, dark lashes dipped low over her bright brown eyes. She's about to demonstrate when Hera's departure steals her focus for a moment, hand lifted in a wave that doesn't quite find its mark. No, instead, she redirects that finger wiggle toward the approaching Rhys, a crooked smile turned his way. Then, back to Alison. "First?" She's counting. "Go see Nicole at Curl Up and Dye. Tell her you wanna try something subtle. Like just a streak or underneath or something. So if it's all shit--which it won't be because she's fucking magic--you can just wear your hair down and hide it." Beat. "Second?" Here comes that grin again, all unduly flirtatious. "If you need a stand-in girlfriend for the night..." Brows arch as she wonders, "Got any special requirements?"

Sparrow downs the rest of her cocktail, but doesn't yet pursue another. As she drops the empty glass back onto the bar, there's a helpless shrug for Gabe that might qualify as some vague sort of apology or explanation by some very generous stretch of the imagination.

Alison smirks at Sparrow assuredly counting. She might not be a natural redhead, but the look's very attractive, regardless. Yeah, she counts.

"I know a little about dyeing hair, I've just never done it myself, y'know? Got some box dye from Safeway, did my friend up with this bright blue except for a little streak of blonde at the front. Came out super cute. I'm a little jealous."

The offer, such as it is, catches her a little off guard. Her cheeks blush a lot deeper than they had already. Alison takes another long sip of her drink, eyes searching up and down Sparrow's body. Her gaze lingers in the expected places, but especially on the woman's jawline. Hnngh. "..I think you already meet them. But if I can be really honest, with the kind of mood I've been in lately, it'd depend a lot on how good you are with your fingers." She doesn't manage to say this without blushing harder, though, and takes another, big deeper sip from her pina colada, eyes moving to somewhere else. Anyone else..

To Gabriel, she says, "Given how much they charged for this drink, I'm pretty sure that it's not half off. I do think that I kind of owe you for saving my ass that one time, though. I don't really remember much from that day but.. thanks. I remember your face, but not much else." And then Hera's leaving. "Bye! Yeah, I could be down for some more dancing."

Whatever that guy in the hawaiian shirt says to Rhys, it gets a laugh and a gesture toward the dance floor, or possibly some of the dancers, and he's just turned back toward the bar when he catches Sparrow's little wave. He gives her a grin and a lift of the hand in return, the barward-trajectory getting a bit more direct. "Ms. Jessica Jones," he greets her, and studies Alison briefly before a soundless fingersnap, "And All My Fires." Another grin, which gets some intentional spillover on Gabriel, and a flicker of a look at their glasses. "How's everything going here for you all tonight?"

"Hey. It's cool," says Gabriel, when Alison gives him thanks for whatever it says that she is giving him thanks for. "Just doing my job, you know?" It's not technically his job except in the broadest of senses, but when there was a redhead in trouble, well, he was there for her. It's sort of his gig. "Just glad you're doing all right." He flashes a reassuring smile.

He then manages not to spit-take his beer at Alison's response to Sparrow. He looks between the women, clearing his throat to speak up. "Oh, Sparrow's great with her fingers. She's a chemist. So pipettes. Swirling beakers. I figure she can be both deft and swift if she needs to be."

A nod to Rhys. "Hey. Doing good."

Does Sparrow straighten just a little while Alison's gaze zigzags over this and that? Maybe. There might also be a little jut of hip--much as can be managed while sitting--and cant of her head. To show off that Very Important Jawline, of course. She's reeled right in by that promise of honesty, only to be hit with way more of it than she'd expected, eyes going saucer-wide. It leaves just enough time for Gabriel to interject on her behalf. Which earns him an entirely feigned pout. "And a drummer," she reminds. In case the significance of this point is missed, she looks back to Alison and very matter-of-factly informs her, "Magnificent manual dexterity. Fantastic at banging." No shame.

On that note, she turns a suitably shameless smile to Rhys and offers, "Sparrow Jones, actually. But you can call me whatever you'd like, Flufftail. It's a very good night to be a redhead." Beat. "And I'm glad our paths've crossed again."

Alison gives Rhys a little inqusitive tilt of the head as he approaches. "Pretty good once I hit the bar." Her eyes glance the man up and down. "You in charge around here or something? Not exactly a dance and grind kinda outfit."

Gabriel's words make her sputter on her own drink a little. Jesus. Okay, maybe her little line there wasn't quite as subtle as she'd hoped it would be. "A chemist, huh. Pipettes are those big long glass things, right? God, I'd probably end up dropping everything like at work." A little change of subject. Try to play things cool. Kind of.

The woman with dyed hair's seeming receptivity to her little line makes her hop off of her stool, drink in hand, wandering a little closer. She's got to be at least half a foot shorter than Sparrow, and her pumps she's got on are more meant for dancing rather than sheet height. No much in the way of curves to speak of, no muscles, just her red hair, freckles, and sometimes acerbic wit to work with. And being shameless herself when she wants to be doesn't hurt either.

"A drummer, huh. Interesting. I guess you're pretty good at hitting the hi hats, then, mmm?" No real indication other than a saucy little grin on her face that she doesn't realize that you use a foot pedal for that. Or maybe she does. Maybe the strained euphemism was deemed to be worth the risk of being laughed at. "Good at getting the vocalists to hit their high notes?" She's laughing at herself for that last one.

Plans were made and it doesn't take very long to get from their house on Elm to the Firefly Club. Lyric steps inside just ahead of Cole and she's wearing a pleated skirt, black and white striped leggings and a black shirt with little cap sleeves over it that laces up the front. Her boots are calf length and are laced up. With the music already playing, she offers her hand out to him in a friendly manner to lead him to the dance floor. "Or do you want drinks first? I only ever got to watch you dance at your place, I've never seen it in a public place like this. Thanks for coming with me!"

Gabriel watches Sparrow get approached by Alison, the smirk on his lips suggesting that he doesn't think he's going to be able to get the neon redhead out onto the dance floor with him any time soon. So he takes his particular spot in this dance, that of the wingman.

"Oh, definitely," says the detective, brushing over the work of how the the hi-hat works. "You know, the great thing about Phil's music is that she can really hammer the beat. Four to the floor. Just that primal sort of feel that makes you go nuts, you know?"

He needs another beer, please.

Cole is dressed in black skinny jeans, a dark blue lightweight shirt that hugs his arms and torso, and a pair of black suede round-toed shoes. There's the faintest hint of marks on his arms near the edge of his left sleeve, given that it is a short sleeved shirt, old and faded, visible mainly as pale white lines in the right light. He grins at Lyric and says, "You want me to ballet dance in the middle of the club? Not sure there's enough room for that," clearly teasing, his tone light. "Thanks for inviting me out. I really.. really needed to get out of the house tonight. I'm fine with dancing first and drinks after."

Rhys missed the start of this. And now faintly regrets that, because that is some amusingly unsubtle innuendo going on, and that's always a good time, right? "Everyone appreciates a real master of beating the skins," he says with nothing but the purest innocence. "Sparrow Jones, huh? Rhys Evans. Manager," that last to Alison, an answer, along with another grin, which remains as he adds back to Sparrow, "Flufftail's just a covername. You know, everyone needs a secret identity."

He catches Gabriel's need for another beer before the bartender does, and lifts a hand to catch the woman's attention, turning it into a point at the cop once she's looking; she comes over swiftly to check on that need for refills. "Actually," he adds to Alison, "you might be surprised, on the dancing front. But we do reserve grinding for emergency situations." Far too serious to be serious, even if one can actually think of an emergency situation it'd be helpful for. He leans across the edge of the bar to say something quietly to the bartender, drowned out by the music to anyone not leaning in to hear him; it gets a small nod.

"We could give it a helluva try," Lyric grins at Cole, teasing as much as he is. "I am glad you got out. Did you have a fun Thanksgiving? We should all do Christmas together. We should get a tree and everything too. I wonder if we should put lights on the house. Or are you going home for Christmas?" Sudden inspiration strikes her though. "You can invite your parents to our place. There's that one extra bedroom."

As Alison approaches, Sparrow shifts in her seat, bootheels comfortably hooked on the barstool's rungs as her knees draw a little farther apart in subtle invitation, wordless indication that closer still is a-okay. Her smile widens for all the innuendo, but she just... nope. There is no way she can't laugh for Gabriel's terrible, horrible, magnificent additions, a little snort spilling into a proper laugh that has her cheeks red and her smile ear-to-ear by the time she looks up to focus on Alison again. "I was gonna say something about exploring a vocalist's full range, but." She's pretty sure she can't sell it while she's still giggling, Rhys' contribution nearly bringing her to tears. "You're all terrible, and I think I love you."

When the bartender is drawn over to check for refills, Sparrow takes another of those ridiculously fruity cocktails she's been drinking, because more sugar and booze are obviously what she needs right now, a murmur of thanks issued before she turns back to the conversation. "I've got enough names that I don't need a cover, Mr. Manager. Might I ask what qualifies as an emergency?" Her eyes flash wide, feigned innocence sold just a smidge more convincingly for how pink her cheeks are from her earlier outburst. "Because I'm pretty sure we can orchestrate an emergency."

Cole continues tugging Lyric toward the dance floor when she slows to continue their conversation. Talking can continue while dancing, and he shrugs his shoulders when she mentions Thanksgiving, not answering directly. "It was alright." Though the mention of Christmas and getting a tree has him grinning a little. "Sure, if you want to go out and pick one, we can set it up in the livingroom and decorate and stuff. I'd be happy to help out with that." Though he shakes his head no when she asks if he's going home for Christmas, "No, my family and I aren't in touch right now. I'll be around." He finds the rhythm in the song currently playing, and he pulls her in closer toward him.

Alison casts a glance back over at the cop. Is wingman his usual association with Sparrow? Interesting, giving the age gap seemingly at play, if nothing else. "Funny how such a small town seems to have so many cute musicians. Not too far from Seattle, I guess."

She takes another long sip from her drink, inspecting Sparrow some more before inching over a little closer, right beside her seat. Mostly her face and hair though. Alison grins at Sparrow breaking there. "Thank god, I think that was about the last music pun that I could think of. Beating skins, though.. is not usually a first date kind of thing, at least for me. Need some time to warm up to someone before the paddle comes out, y'know?" And then she blinks, and takes a much longer drink, nearly finishing it off. Shit. She's usually better than this at keeping her cards close to her chest. Alcohol and the flirting are not helping her any, though.

Looking back at Rhys, she says wryly, "So you're not hiding a schoolbook behind you, then? Not going to pry people apart like at a high school prom? Is there a rule for this place that I should know? Like, hands at ten and two? Shoulders only?"

What is Gabriel's usual association with Sparrow? Neighbor. Neighbor works.

But when Alison is so close to Sparrow, he looks at her. "Need my stool?" he asks, from the spot where he has perched next to the neon redhead. "Or you good?" His new beer arrives. He thankfully hasn't taken a drink when Alison begins mentioning paddling. He coughs for a moment, but then recovers with a swig of the beer. Even he doesn't have something for that one.

Lyric lets herself be tugged and she grins at him for her loss of direction with her conversation. Catching on though, she gets out on the floor and works to find the rhythm too. It's pretty easy, she keeps her hand in his and even though the rock song isn't old fashioned, the beat fits so they can do pretty much anything. She holds both his hands and sort of Dirty Dancing, Time of our Life dances, cause Cole? He can dance! Conversation still happens, but she's smiling as she spins out then spins back in to him, catching his hand again and twisting back and forth. She looks absolutely delighted in her partner. "Good, want to go tomorrow to get a tree and decorate? If any of the others are around they can come too. Or we can save them some decorations. Scott and Ico can put the lights on the house," she grins. She doesn't ask more about Thanksgiving. "What do you want for Christmas?"

"Paddles, huh? Sounds like a plan for some serious canoe-dling," Rhys remarks easily, accepting a glass of ice water from the bartender, who rolls her eyes at the pun and gets a small grin in return. She's busily getting those refills out to the paying customers, of course. Rhys keeps half an eye on the crowd, the way it's ebbing and flowing, but the other eye and a half go to Alison again, a brow lifting. "Do I look like I'm hiding a schoolbook behind me?" He glances down at himself. "Maybe I need a new jacket. No, I guarantee no prying on my part, unless I'm asked really nicely. And no prying on the bouncers' parts unless you get either really friendly or really unfriendly. Anything in between's fair play. As long as everyone's too old for their high school prom." Which they are. The ID-checking here is strong. Sparrow gets a considering look, and then a shake of the head. "If I offer to demonstrate some time off the clock, do you promise not to orchestrate any more emergencies than arise naturally in any case? The last thing any of us needs is poor Andre having to grind for his life again."

Cole matches whatever style of dancing Lyric seems to fancy to go along with the beat of the music around him, easily spinning her and sliding in close again. He moves with the ease of a professional dancer, completely at home on the dance floor regardless of what is playing. "Yeah, let's do that. And we can bring whoever's around with us. Maybe just get it set up, and then we can do a night of decorating and stuff together? I mean, if people are down for that." Though when she asks what he wants for Christmas he smiles and shrugs a little bit, "No idea. Hadn't thought about it, really. You?"

Sparrow might catch that considering look cast over Gabriel's way because she notes far too casually, "Also good with his hands," of the man before turning to accept her drink with another mouthed, "Thank you," for the bartender. It might be in defiance of that made-up ten-and-two rule--or Gabe's gallant offer to surrender his seat--that has her reaching a hand over to Alison, fingers tentatively settling against her side. Then, if allowed that much, curling against her flank more firmly and encouraging her closer still. "Third date, at least," she agrees of that canoe-dling with a mostly straight face. And then promptly hedges. "Unless we hit it off really, really well and she asks really, really nicely." There might be a flicker of amusement toward Rhys on that note, the left corner of her lips quirking upward just a touch, a hint of impishness which never gets the chance to blossom to full mischief for how swiftly it's replaced with solemnity as she takes her free hand to her chest to cross her heart--or nearly--and swear, "I promise. No orchestrated emergencies if given appropriate off-the-clock education." Beat. "You didn't happen to actually snag my number from anyone the other day, did you? Cuz I happen to know it, too. If you're still in need."

"I like that idea, we can go choose one then set it up and the others can decorate with us whenever we can all get together. Soon I hope, though." Lyric enjoys dancing but none so much as with the professional here that can teach her more than she'd ever learn by watching others at the club. Still, she has a blast with it, dancing and having fun, twirls, turns, even a dip. Finally the song ends and with a smile, she motions towards the bar. "Want something to drink? We can talk about what we want for Christmas. I bet we could make cookies and all too. It'd be a lot of fun." She hooks her arm through his, if he lets her, and sort of dances to the bar, smiling at the others, cause she knows most of em. "Hi guys." Unaware of all the innuendo going on.

Alison shakes her head at the offer of a closer stool. "Nah, I'm good with standing. Easier to make a quick exit if I say something especially stupid." Gabriel's reaction at her line about the paddle makes the woman grin, even if it wasn't aimed at him in particular.

To Rhys, "It's not a real camping trip if someone's not begging for mercy and pleading to go home after a few hours." She pauses for a beat. "I mean, setting up the tent's not easy. You've gotta make sure that you have all the hooks and.. how'd we get from music to camping, anyways?" Her free hand rises in a sign of contrition towards the man. "Maybe not you, maybe one of your bouncers was in yearbook club. I'm not one to judge."

And then back to the lovely object of her attention so far this evening. Sparrow's hand touches her side, and her normally soft voice briefly squeaks into one that you might hear coming from the TV with a classic Nintendo attached. But then she figures it out, and presses a little close into the woman's side. And also sneaks a hand up towards her hair, flicking an errant neon red strand near her ear. "I like to think that I have a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to getting my way."

Alison looks a little puzzled at the mention of an emergency, but she's been in town long enough by now to know that it's often just.. best to not ask, lest you be dragged into situations that you don't want to be involved in. The offer of her number to the man perks her interest, though. "I might wanna grab that number too, if that's alright.." And then whispering into the woman's ear, "Unless you wanna give it to me over breakfast."

"Yes, drinks sound good," Cole grins when the song ends and the next one begins, following her over to the bar toward where some other folks are gathered. He does not object at all to her arm hooking through his, grinning sidelong in her direction and gives her a little hip-bump on the way over to the bar. He too, has no idea what's been going on with all the discussions of fingerings and bangings and vocalizations, so it's without a clue that he wanders up and waves hello to those that Lyric seems to know but he does not. He slides into a seat at the bar only after Lyric takes her and then he says to her, "Sure, we can do baking and the whole nine yards. I'd be down for that."

"We have a deal," Rhys tells Sparrow, and dips a hand into his pocket. "Didn't quite get a suitable chance yet, but hey, if you know it..." He comes up with a phone, as one might expect, which he taps a couple times and turns to offer toward her free hand -- though he looks ready to do the inputting himself if she prefers, what with her other hand being busy right now. The woman occupying the other hand gets another grin, and a note of, "However we got there, I'm pretty sure I shouldn't set up by that campfire while I'm on the clock." The grin stays in place as he catches sight of the new pair approaching, and he gives them a small upnod. "Evening, Lyric! Everything going well tonight?"

"We should have kept up with our classes at the college huh? We did good, except you getting cut last time." Lyric does have a seat and grins at him as he has a seat, mostly the grin is for the hip bump. "I want pineapple juice and coconut rum." The order given to the bartender and she slides some money on the bar, getting it for Cole if he lets her. "I love Christmas much better than Thanksgiving. We could all draw names, those that live in the house, or.. I don't know, I may buy something for everyone, cause I know them all pretty well. I guess you don't know Ico and Scott and Park much though, huh?" She looks comfortable and she doesn't interrupt the others after hearing parts of their conversations. Until she is addressed. Rhys gets a smile and a wave. "Yes, things are great, have you met Cole? He's a great friend of mine. And a great dancer. Cole this is Rhys. I went to school with him."

Sparrow's heart-crossing hand lifts to waggle a wave toward Lyric and Cole as they move from the dancefloor to the bar with a friendly, "Hey there," her cheerful smile only a teensy bit distracted by the fingers briefly brushing through her hair. She eyes Alison sidelong at that particular phrasing, grin skewing decidedly off-center, and she notes dryly, "You don't have any sleeves. We might just have to do this my way instead." She tilts in toward that whisper with a half-pained expression, a little whimper expressing a rather conflicted desire to accept. Taking up Rhys' phone she, first, snaps a horrible club-lit selfie of herself in which she is making an adorably dorky face. By the time she hands the device back, she's entered in as 'Ms. Jones' with what one hopes is actually her phone number listed below. "I think I'mma have to follow Flufftail's example," she laments to Alison. "Wingman wasn't kidding when he called me a chemist, and lab starts stupid early in the morning." Being a grown-up is hard. "But you wanna make me breakfast another night..?" Morning. Whatever. Time's hard too. Whatever the case, she holds out her hand for Alison's phone too.

"We could always see if we can find another cooking class. The one we took was fun, and I have since learned not to try to catch falling knives," Cole points out with a smile as he settles in at the bar, folding his arms in front of him and leaning against them a bit. He considers what he wants to drink for a moment and then orders, "Cape Cod, please." He lets her buy his drink, not seeming to mind. "I mean, I rarely see anyone, to be honest. I'm at work, and then they're off doing their thing. I don't mind getting something for everyone, though. It'll probably be something kind of universal though like.. booze, or food, or gift cards, because I'm not sure what they'd like." When Lyric introduces him to Rhyz, he lifts a hand in a little half-wave/half-salute. "Hey, nice to meet you." He smiles and gives a little nod in greeting to Sparrow as well at her wave. "Hi."

Alison rolls her eyes, sly grin still on the redhead's painted lips. "Don't need the sleeves to turn on the waterworks." She turns her head away from the woman for a moment, and then back, her blue eyes suddenly big, round, and sad, previously grinning smile contorted into a frown just on the verge of bringing forth tears. But she only holds onto it for a second before cracking up. "Sorry. Had to."

Ali pulls her phone out from the small of her back where it'd been tucked into her vinyl pants's waistband, unlocking it and handing it over to Sparrow. "That's really too bad. I make some mean pancakes, though. I'd rather not get in trouble for making another person late for classes, though." Rather than elaborate on what she just said, she takes the hand that had just flicked at the woman's hair, and runs a finger along the jawline that she'd noticed, starting at the cheek and sliding along to the chin. "You, though, I might even pick up some orange juice for."

"I hope we can. I really want to learn to cook better. I like eating at home over going out. Closer to walk to the kitchen," Lyric laughs but her eyes do lower to his hand and she reaches for it to look for scars and stuff. "It healed pretty good, huh?" Mostly rhetorical. When Cole orders, she grins at Sparrow. "Hi, it's good to see you again." They went to school together too. "Do you know Sparrow, Cole? Sparrow, this is Cole. And that's Alison, she sometimes comes to the Cabaret." A wave to Alison too before she looks back at Cole. "Oh I don't think anyone's gonna be expecting you to buy anything for them. But everyone of them likes booze. And food."

"I have not. Nice to meet you, Cole the great dancer," Rhys says, giving the man a smile, "Here to set everyone a good example?" He has another sip of his ice water -- well, presumably water, it looks like water and it's in a water glass, and he is working -- and accepts the phone back from Sparrow, inclining his head to her. The picture on the phone gets a grin, and hopefully it IS actually her number, since he sends a quick text to it. If it's not, he'll know that soon! Alison's fake tears get a midly impressed brow-lift. "Most people like booze and food," he agrees, which is probably good for the nightclub's bottom line. The booze part certainly is.

Cole is a little surprised when Lyric reaches for his hand to check it until he realizes she's not looking to see if he's currently cut, but searching for a scar from the knife. There is no visible scar. "Yeah," he agrees. It had. No permanent damage done. Though when introductions are made, he smiles and waves to those he is being introduced to. "Hi Sparrow, Alison. Sparrow and I met once before at a cookout. I ran into some of the folks from Oak Street a while back but.. haven't seen them in a while. I'm one of Lyric's assorted roommates." Then he says to Lyric, "Oh I didn't figure that they were but.. I want to. I mean, it's Christmas." He chuckles at the title that Rhys gives him. "Here to enjoy a night hanging out with my roomie and enjoying the company."

Black brows arch toward bright red bangs as Alison describes the trick before she pulls it. And oh, how Sparrow grins for that well-feigned emotion, tilting in toward the freckled redhead like she might just gobble her up. And then something chirps on her person, all cheerful and electronic, a text message almost certainly coming through. "I like my pancakes with bananas and granola." The second phone gets similar treatment, though she's grinning for the saved selfie. And she actually includes a personal note of 'banana and granola pancakes' in her contact info. Just to be sure. As she hands the phone back, her arm wraps a little farther around Alison and her attention turns to the others. "Yeah, not much free time these days," she says to Cole's note of not seeing the college kids on Oak in a while. "Might manage a party over break if we're lucky, but pretty sure most of us are fucking off on random roadtrips instead." Without any phones to fuss with, her free hand fishes into her pocket for a wallet... which means she may well be settling up soon.

"Rhys gets your number, then he never writes, he never calls," Lyric says solemnly before laughing, giving Rhys a smile cause she was just joking around. "Oh good," she tells Cole on meeting Sparrow before, but she nods at the Christmas gifts and all. Their drinks arrive and she reaches for hers, taking a big drink cause it doesn't even taste like alcohol and it was warm in here. "Road trips for Christmas. That sounds fun though." Said to Sparrow.

Alison hears her name, her head turning on a swivel. Oh! "Oh, hi there. Sorry, I've been, uh, a little distracted. Oh, so then you live with Mee as well, then? You're in her band as well? Nice to meet you!" But before too long, her attention's back on Sparrow.

The woman's rampant running through her cell phone's features makes Alison grin widely before replacing it behind her. Especially the note about the pancakes. "I'm kind of surprised that you're here with exams on so soon, though. I mean, that's half the reason why I'm out tonight, anyways." She pauses for a moment, pondering. "You need a ride home? I'll be good, I promise." She holds her fingers out in the shape of a cross, just to show her pure intentions. A little halo almost appears over her head! Or at least she wishes it would.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Rhys says to Cole, but Lyric gets the best wounded look he can muster. "Now, that's not fair. You've got mine too, and I was at the library twice and didn't spot a hair of you," he says, which is almost certainly not true. It hasn't been that long since karaoke, and there was a holiday in there and everything! "Road trips for Christmas do sound fun, though," he says normally, pausing when one of the bouncers across the room successfully catches his eye and gives a meaningful tilt of the head. Rhys sighs, shaking his, and finishes off his water, setting it on the bar. "I promise a better record of writing and calling," he says, "but meanwhile, have a good time, and everyone get home safe." A light mock-salute as he excuses himself, and he heads toward that bouncer, tapping his phone a couple times before it disappears into a pocket again along the way.

"Are you speaking from experience?" Cole asks Lyric with a little laugh, looking between she and Rhys and then back again. "Road trips around Christmas can be fun. We used to go up to the mountains and go skiing over winter break," Cole says when Sparrow and Lyric turn to talking about random road trips during break time. "I'm not in the band," he explains to Alison. "I just live at the house." Then Rhys is departing so he says, "Nice to meet you. Have a good one!"

"Should be, yeah," Sparrow says of the Christmas roadtrips. "Brother's going up to Canada with his girlfriend. I'm being stolen away to some unnamed mountains to hide away for a while." Or maybe ski. "And then to unimaginably tall trees to get lost for a little bit." Her smile goes a little dreamy at that, lingering as she settles her tab. And finally takes up that formerly two-tone cocktail that's muted into a muddy red now with only a wedge of lime to brighten it. Really, it's the sort of thing that ought to be sipped, but, well... with that offer of a ride... It's not difficult to make disappear in a couple of swigs, cheeks a little redder for the effort by the time the glass goes back down. With a nod to Alison, she explains, "I was gonna walk--" Which means she's close, just over on Oak and all. "--but if you promise to be nice." The way her brows go up all high and stern like that? She might actually even mean it. Slipping from the barstool, she waves and offers her goodnights, ready to go.

Suddenly Lyrics phone chirps and after reaching into her hoodie pocket, she looks at the screen and laughs, lifting playfully accusing eyes to Rhys. "Goofy." Tossing that to him if he's departing. Turning more, she regards Cole. "He texted now." There's a smile with that. "You used to go with your family? I bet that was fun. Well you've got us this year, Cole. And tomorrow is Christmas tree shopping for the house."

Alison oooos at the prospect of a road trip. "Bring me back some snow. Fuck if we get any around here." To Cole, she says, "Ah! That whole living situation sounds so complicated. Bunk beds and.. I don't know how you all manage." She shrugs, and finishes off the last dregs of her drink, then pays her own bill. Towards Sparrow, she crosses and then raises two fingers in the air. "I promise." She even looks like she's being sincere, ginger ponytail behind her bobbing around. Then moves to follow the one with neon red hair out of the club. "Night, folks!"