2019-12-14 - Casino Soirée

The casino's not quite open for business yet, but there've been a smattering of city officials and business people taking tours through the place while the last dregs of construction finish up. Tonight, a limited invite-only event for a few of the city's finest - and the likes of the inimitable DA. Captain de la Vega's here, of course, seated at one of the bars that borders the craps and roulette tables. He's dressed in something a little nicer than his usual off the rack suit; crisp white shirt, waistcoat and tailored pants. Polished black ankle boots, and he might almost be able to pull off distinguished gentleman if not for all the fucking tattoos crawled up and down his arms. Which his shirtsleeves, rolled to his elbows, do nothing to hide. He has a glass of (what else?) tequila in hand as he tries to tune out a lawyer awkwardly flirting with him.

Cassidy has her hair done up in a chignon with tendrils of her blond hair falling to frame her face. In her left hand is a glass of wine resting in her palm with the stem falling between two fingers. In the other is her phone which she has barely looked up from since this shindig started. Some of the people here were mandated to be here, and Cassidy play the role of unwilling employee perfectly. At least she's dressed for the occasion in an elegant black cocktail dress which reveals absolutely nothing.

Oh hey, look, it's Bennet in a LBD. De la Vega takes a minute to appreciate it, revealing or not, before excusing himself from his present company in order to pay his respects. He touches the ADA's shoulder lightly, dimples her a grin that's probably about fourty percent alcohol. "You made it out," he tells her, like she's not aware of that very obvious fact.

Ari may not be considered among the city's finest, but she's certainly one of the city's newest. At least as far as anyone from the last decade or so are concerned. Dr. Soto, Gray Harbor coroner. Drew the fucking short straw, that one. The small woman is dressed in a simple black dress and heels that are more for height than aesthetic. Black hair has been left loose across her shoulders, rather than trying -- and inevitably failing -- to get it into some sort of... thing. As far as 'alluring' goes, she may as well be going to a funeral.

It just so happens that tequila makes its way closer at the same time as Ruiz. Near-black eyes actually linger on that glass for a moment before turning toward the actual human holding it. Familiar. A look toward the other. Also familiar. Hell, one knows where the free alcohol is.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt..." She lies warmly, approaching the pair.

"Yuuup..." Cassidy says dully in response to the police captain while her left hand moves that wine glass across to the man's hand on her shoulder, using the stem of the glass to brush it off her shoulder. All while still looking at her phone.

Once de la Vega's hand is ejected, she takes a sip of the wine. Ari's voice floats into the blond attorney's awareness and cause her eyes to flick in that direction. After a moment, Cassidy clucks her tongue and shakes her head very subtly, really only visible because the tendrils sway when she does. "You aren't interrupting."

Ruiz flicks his eyes over as Ari approaches. Definitely familiar. If only he could place her. Was he drunk at the time? Cassidy's little flick of his hand is taken right in stride. And he probably tries to sneak a glance at what's on her phone screen, while she's distracted. "I don't think we've met," seems like the safer option with Ari. Unless they've slept together and he's totally forgotten. Which would be awkward. "Javier." He sticks his hand out, tries to smile, but it's a bit wolfish. "And this is Ms. Bennet, assistant district attorney." Nobody calls her Ms. Bennet, do they? Well, he does.

Ari is tipping a nod toward smile toward Cassidy as the blonde woman speaks, her lips curving just enough for those dimples to show. Dark eyes act as a sort of mirror in the midst of the various lights, and thus glint slightly as she shifts her attention back to the te -- Ruiz and his tequila. Fortunately, it's not going to get awkward just yet. "Dr. Ariadne Soto. Lucky coroner. I respond to Ari. Just. Ari." There's that smile again, this time with full-dimple power.

That's said as she takes his hand, and a dark 'brow arches slowly as she watches the half-or-a-little-more-drunk Captain. Hell, he's not on duty. Corpses aren't his fault right now. And... "Ms. Bennet?" After sliding her hand free of Ruiz's, she's offering it toward Cassidy. Sideways, as a colleague would, rather than the dainty way the occasion may call for.

It takes a moment but the notion that Cassidy is now expected to display social ritual and proper conduct swims to the fore of her mind. She lets loose a light sigh of resignation and then with a flick of her wrist the phone disappears - tossed into her purse.

The blonde lifts a finger off her glass and uses it to move some hair from her line of sight as she reaches to accept Ari's hand and give it the good ol' professional shake. "Cassidy Bennet. Assistant District Attorney." It's followed by a brief smile.

"Jesus, Javier, are you going to show the poor woman where to get the tequila?" Cassidy lets out a sharp whistle at a passing waiter to call him over and motions the servant abruptly to Ari.

Ruiz gives the newcomer's hand a brisk shake, then knocks back about a third of his tequila. Cassidy's given a look when she re-introduces herself, like, didn't I just fucking say that? Mercifully, he only thinks it. "Why should I bother, when you're here to save the day?" he enquires, taking a lean against the bar and watching as a couple of suits clap each other on the shoulder like they're best buddies. Being a reader in a place like this, though, is all kinds of interesting.

For example: "He's cheating on his wife," is mumbled into his drink, dark eyes roving from the men, back to Ari and her dimples. "Coroner?" Then a quick trip to take in the rest of her. Could be a leer, but it isn't. Not quite. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of one another. Welcome to Gray Harbour, Ari."

Ari smothers her grin into a contained smirk as Cassidy actually whistles for the waiter, and nods her thanks as the tequila is successfully obtained. Group effort! She gives the waiter A Look after he pours the glass to the socially appropriate level, and continues to give him That Look until he has about doubled the amount.

Her excessive tequila now being sipped, Ari's eyes flicker back to Ruiz and Cassidy. There's a glance between the pair, and the glint in her eyes seems more amusement now than simple mirroring. "Have you two been working together for long?"

Cassidy shrugs. "A few months, I guess?" She crosses one leg over the other and gives the hem of her dress a tug forward with her free hand to try (futilely) to cover more of her legs with it. Then there's another sip of wine.

"I'm still new, really. I just came on board in September working the Kruger murders." There's another shrug and a look to Ruiz. "Which is going to trial next so the Captain here will get to enjoy some deserved time off until I'm free to get assigned to the next big case."

"A few-" Months. But Cassidy already said it, and de la Vega's only too happy to let her do the talking. So he leans and he drinks, and tries not to make it obvious that he's checking out the ass of a passing waitress. "Mm," is his sole contribution to the topic of well deserved time off. Might be he's already on vacation, in his head. "You like tequila," he points out to Ari. Man's full of self-evident wisdom tonight. "No eres mexicano, verdad?"

Ari does like tequila. And she likes at least a shot's worth with a quick tip of the glass. Her eyes flicker again between the two, amusement unsuppressed for the moment, until she's nodding at Cassidy's response. The Kruger murders earn a slight wrinkling of her nose, and then she's offering over the edge of her cup, "One of the MEs out here was telling me about somebody getting flayed. After that, I figured I should come take a look for myself. Bit of a... reunion."

Her eyes flicker toward Ruiz as he switches languages, and she's lifting a 'brow again. "Si no soy mexicano, mis padres tienen algunas explicaciones serias que hacer. No habla ingles?"

"Jesus Christ..." Cassidy growls. She downs the rest of her wine and sets the glass on the table. "¿Puedes hablar pinche Ingles, por favor?" She shakes her head and it whips her tendrils across her face and back. "More wine!" She demands of a passing waiter.

"Flayed? Yes. I heard strange unsolved murders was the MO around here..." Her looks to Ruiz is a challenging one. One eyebrow raised and a challenging, yet humor filled, purse to her lips. "...Until I showed up." She grins. "Turns out the boys just need some good old fashioned motivation and they'll solve just about anything."

Really, who doesn't like tequila? Ruiz watches with interest as Ari knocks a good quantity down the hatch, and the corners of his eyes crease with the slight smile that curves his mouth. He doesn't comment on people being flayed or reunions, but does respond to her query in rapid, rolling Spanish that easily outs him as a Tijuana street rat, "Hablo mucho ingles." He sips his own drink. Tattoos decorate his arms, wrists, and backs of his hands up to his first knuckle on each finger of his right hand. Fish, symbols, letters. Choppy waves that disappear up under his shirt. "Pero.. solo si preguntas amablemente," he finishes, with a wink at Ari.

Then his gaze flicks back to Cassidy, and her challenging look is met with a flat one. "Really, it's just your smiling face that makes me want to get out of bed and go get 'em, Bennet," he confides with an utter lack of inflection.

"You know... flayed corpses aside, I... think I'm going to at least be amused here," Ari muses with probably a bit too much honesty. She has had her fair share of tequila. And she's not exactly... normal-sized. "It's not the first story I've heard... but some family business came up, so I thought why the hell not." The hand that doesn't hold the tequila is raised a shrug-type gesture.

Dark eyes return to Ruiz, and she snorts audibly at his words. Either content that Cassidy can understand, or as willing to hop to foreign languages as Ruiz, she's offering in Spanish, "Por favor, Javier," -- dragging his name out just a bit, and making sure to catch all of those native nuances.

"Habla Inglés. Al menos hasta que los blancos no puedan entenderte de todos modos." The words roll off her tongue as easily as they do Ruiz's, and after a too-sweet smile toward the other Mexican, her eyes flicker toward Cassidy. "So. We've all got our idiot reasons for being, and staying, in this town. What's yours?"

Straight shooter.

"Sí, yo lo se, puto - everyone wishes they could wake up to this beautiful face." Cassidy states it like a fact one can have confidence in as opposed to something prideful or inflated egoism. She knows she's fine.

She drags in a breath and looks with longing toward the door. God she would love a cigarette right now.

"My reason? I took the ADA job." she turns a palm toward the ceiling like this is the most obvious thing in the world. Also a straight shooter.

Noooo comment from de la Vega. None at all. He sips his tequila, and digs his phone out of his pants pocket when it buzzes. A quick swipe of his thumb in reply, and a flickered smile for Ari after she responds to him in Spanish. Like he's contemplating her in a slightly new light. Then his gaze roves back to his phone as it pings again, a sip of his drink, another swish of his thumb in response. "But why Gray Harbour?" he asks Cassidy. "Figure you'd get more mileage out of Seattle."

"You ask her the same question that I would ask you, De -- Javier," Ari notes, nursing her glass as she simply watches the two try to coexist. It's a truly sadistic pleasure. Then again, this woman went to school to study dead people. Bickering co-workers are tame. Then, to Cassidy, "Though the same question remains for you." She tips her precious glass toward the blonde.

"I was in Seattle, but as a public defender. There aren't a ton of ADA job openings and the turn over is not high." Cassidy explains. "So when something opens up, you got to jump on it."

"I'm grabbing a smoke." She slides her purse off the back of her chair and slings it over her shoulder. She fingers waggle waves as she walks past and out.

Cassidy's finger waggle is returned with a too-sweet smile from the captain, which drops away abruptly once she's out of his sightline. He tries not to roll his eyes, but it's pretty clear the guy's social skills could use some work. "Tengo un ascenso," he tells Ari, as soon as they're alone. "Si puedes llamarlo así." His tongue's run along his lower lip, right where it meets his beard, and then his eyes flick back to the Latina woman. "How're you finding things here, so far?" His accent's noticeable, though mingled with something Southern. Like he's put some effort into trying to smother it over the years.

Ari's own accent... is there, but it sounds more like the tell-tale nuances of one who learned the languages either simultaneously, or very close to one-another. Certainly not the Tijuana streets, but certainly not the result of a few high school classes. She's finally slid herself onto one of the stools, with one bare arm left listless on the bartop as the other continues to idly twirl her drink. "If I could call it that?" She echoes back, in deliberate English. The tip of her chin toward a gathering of oh-so-very-white-and-rich isn't obvious, but nor is it so subtle that a mostly drunk cop wouldn't notice. White people are still awake. Clearly. "And what, exactly, is a promotion that one can only perhaps call a promotion?" Her gaze flickers toward his tattooed arms, and when she glances towards his features once more, it's with a slightly different cast. Not good, not bad... but certainly different.

The switch to English is noted, and earns another flickered smile. She has his attention now, clearly, though it's hard to say whether that's genuine amusement or.. something else. His eyes take a little trip along her body from head to toe and back again, then slide away as he sips his own drink. He's not slurring his words yet, or tripping over his own feet, so he can't be that drunk. "Yes. That's what I said." He glances at the gaggle of rich, old white men nearby, then away again. "I don't think I'm at liberty to say," is his eventual explanation, before the tequila's finished off and the glass slid onto the counter. With a glance at his watch, he informs her that, "I've got to get going. It was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty of each other." He offers his hand in parting and seeks her eyes boldly.

Dark eyes meet dark, and regardless of how small her hand may be in comparison to Ruiz's own, the handshake is firm. "Unfortunately for the town... I'm pretty sure you're right. As for the company... we'll see." There are the dimples again, and with tequila in-hand, the black-clad woman is turning on her stool, slipping to her feet, and trailing off to deal with less entertaining colleagues.