2020-01-27 - Amateur Night

"Alright, alright! Welcome to amateur night -- get your asses in here." Antonio's voice cuts over the club's loudspeakers as booty hip-hop music pounds from the sound system. "We got five hundred dollars in cash prizes, split between the best male and female amateur performers. We got half price drinks all night, and two-for-one private dances from your Platinum entertainers." The club boss himself is situated at the bar, cordless microphone in hand, and nursing a vodka martini.

"You wanna sign up? I need your stage name and the song you wanna dance to. You don't wanna sign up? That's fine too -- enjoy the show, and don't forget to tip your performers, your bartender, and your waitresses. Let's get this party started, y'all." The strip club boss is sporting a flamboyant, hot pink blazer for the occasion, over a pressed white-collared shirt and matching pink necktie. The grin on his face spreads nearly from ear to ear, plainly in anticipation of the night's earnings potential.

Dahlia hadn't properly been back at Platinum for a while. She'd duck in now and then for a few minutes here or there to handle some kind of business and then be gone again. Today though, she was feeling ready. It was Amatuer night so she wasn't going to take the main stage, but at least she could work the crowd and help get people excited. Her attire is skimpy but simple - a light blue micro mini with a pair of black fishnet stockings and a blue bikini top. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and she is currently posted up at the bar, flirting with one of the patrons.

There's a light touch on his shoulder and a whisper in his ear before Dahlia makes her way to where Antonio was, after his announcement. "Looks like it's gonna be a pretty good turnout again bossman." Flashing him a grin.

Jane moves in like the plague; the GHPD uniform isn't any more friendly when adding a fluffy black windbreaker on top of it. Sliding over to the doorman position and maintaining a solid presence there, maybe there's a touch of security for having someone around to help bounce rowdies out for the night. Or maybe it's just creeping protectionism that a nice, innocent amateur night twerk-off has a cop on the premise. Either way, she silently chews on a toothpick while looking over the shoulder of the ID checker for now.

Bean comes into the club, she has a purse which she holds close to her body. Her eyes look about and she brushes her fingers over her usual scrubs.. a glance about as she offers her ID. The small woman waits until shes allowed further in, and moving over to the bar where she can watch and drink

Until Lyric gets here, Park is playing the tunes up in the DJ 'booth'. She has on the corporate uniform of tiny booty shorts and too tight t-shirt. Even with her attributes up top on the more lacking side, the t-shirt makes them into a bigger deal. Almost like they were intentionally designed that way. Her earphones are in the shape of Pikachu ears though only one is actually on, the other up to hear requests. She bops around happily as the music plays.

Ducking under the doorway after his obligatory search, Everett's dower expression doesn't lessen even as he takes a moment at the doorway to stop and fix his wallet back into his back pocket after having proved his tender age. He didn't dress for the weather, and may have arrived straight from the gymnasium.

Kass is here, working the event in her usual capacity. Tonight she's gone all out. Painted head to toe in gold like some life-sized Oscar statue, even her hair has been covered in a temporary gold hairspray. Running about here and there in a pair of gold leather Chuck Taylors, delivering drinks, taking orders, smiling and chatting up the regulars. In general just keeping the usual business running while everyone waits for the event to begin!

Sparrow came to dance. She looks like she came to dance, heels and a short skirt and shimmery light-catching make-up. She's even already got a drink in hand when her phone chirps from her pocket and steals her attention away from the others filing in and any efforts to sign up. It's a few quick texts before her expression goes from bright to blank, leaving her staring at the small screen without movement for a good long while.

Cutting off the mic for the moment, Antonio winks once to Dahlia. "Gonna be real good, yeah. This always bring the crowd." Spotting the uniformed cop, Antonio arches an eyebrow. "You think she's gonna strip out of that?" He poses the question to Dahlia, punctuated by a laugh. "Everyone likes the stage show, I guess."

One of her passes around the room has Kass dropping off a martini to Antonio with a wink and offering a bright smile towards Dahlia before she's zooming off again to grab an empty pitcher from a table of four to get a refill for them. Pausing briefly by Sparrow to offer a smile and wave while she's waiting for the refill. Everett is given a wave and smile as well while she hefts up the pitcher, along with a tray full of drinks, and off she goes again!

Alison has been cooped up for a while, camping out at a table, sitting by her lonesome in one of the chairs. If such a thing were actually possible outside of cartoons, there'd be a dark gray rain cloud hovering over her head, and her dour expression reflects this. She's in her usual sort of outfit, t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, but has neon red lipstick and some basic blush on. No real more effort than that.

If anyone else is here that she recognizes, she hasn't noticed them in her funk. Her attention's essentially focused on the stage and her pina colada.

Bean grabs a drink as a waitress passes her, and her eyes turn to Everett as well, being the one person she knows in the place she raises a small hand to wave in his direction, a sea of faces - hers might be lost so she with drink in hand situates herself to watch.

Sparrow looks up from her phone when Kass moves past, blowing an undoubtedly undue kiss the redhead's way instead of actually removing her fingers from that device. She's at least started responding to the texts again, expression once more strangely neutral as she resumes that digital conversation. It doesn't take long to conclude, though there is a bit of hesitation before she shoves her phone back in her pocket and returns to her drink. With purpose. That beer disappears quickly. Whenever Kass makes it around again? Yeah, she's already ready for a refill. And maybe a shot of tequila, thanks.

Jane, when the initial press of customers has started to abate, wanders away. Quiet so far, nothing to bitch about; IDs are checked and hand stamps and no one with a patchy moustache or plastered-on face has been allowed in. All is well. There is a general drift around the periphery of the club, more towards where the announcer is holding court, waiting patiently for the hype involved in getting the crowd pumped up for the show to die down a bit. "Nice quiet night, right? All the bunnies in better know what their limits are. Thongs stay on."

Park does her best to wave at Alison. Even hopping up and down at the booth with more energy in an attempt to catch her attention. Doesn't seem to be working. So she will wave to a distracted Sparrow instead. Why are her friends all gloomy? "Kass, you look awesome!" she yells to the waitress, complete with thumbs up, before back to the music.

Gabriel makes his way on into the Platinum Cabaret, but with a rather, well, troubled look on his lips. The homicide detective has on a black bomber jacket and a longs-sleeve red henley and jeans. He is checking his phone -- repeatedly -- but doesn't seem to be able to DO anything about what he sees on the screen. Buth e can get a drink.

The strip club owner tilts his head quizzically toward the cop, smirking broadly as he takes a swig of his martini. "You gonna get up there too, sweetie? Antonio Williams, at your service. Glad you decided to join us." Tapping the mic, the club owner's voice soon reverberates from the club's speakers. "Alright, alright! We got our first performer -- Magenta! She's a college junior and is looking for extra credit... make sure you tip!"

On cue, a blonde and busty co-ed in a somewhat predictable schoolgirl uniform takes the stage. Her moves are competent as she climbs the pole in time with the music, even if her stage presence and professionalism leave something to be desired.

Sparrow catches a few of the others, offering a finger-wiggling wave to Park and a bit of curious study for Alison, like maybe she's considering heading her direction. But then there's Gabriel moving past, and he merits a look. It's not precisely an easy to ready look, somewhere between 'you motherfucker' and 'thank you,' but people are complex sometimes, alright? "You dancing, detective?" sounds like a challenge more than a question.

Kass does indeed swing by again, pausing near Sparrow to collect the empty and offer a brief, "Hey! Good to see you again. You gonna dance?" For once, the redhead seems completely at ease, despite being covered in nothing more than pasties, a bodypaint panty, and a thin layer of gold paint. She flashes a brief grin towards the other redhead at the order and nods, "You got it!' And she's off! Park gets a wave from the drink station while she's waiting for the next round of drinks to come up. She gathers up the round of drinks and runs off again, dropping shot and drink at Sparrow, another by Gabriel, pausing by Antonio to lift a brow and make a drinking motion. Boss need a refill? If not, she's off!

His brooding expression is met with a challenge. When waved at by the golden girl, the right side of his mouth tweaks up a little. A smile, as fleeting as it might be, but a smile never the less before he rises his large paw of a hand and returns gesture quickly. Then he tucks his thumbs into electric blue shorts that reach down to his mid-thigh, tuck and roll around the waistband proving they aren't very secure at all. It's a sea of redheads here. Moving from the door, Everett goes to snag a table before they're all gone, uplifting his head to Bean on the way past, then towards the table.

Having come from having a bite to eat, Cristobal has convinced Dante that this is how they should spend the next portion of their evening. Not working tonight unless needed (read: shit hitting the fan) the latino bouncer directs the dark haired writer in past the front station and towards a table that has a little 'RESERVED' cardboard tent on it. "I called ahead." Which is probably good, considering the growing crowd. It's not one of the premium tables up near the stage, but off to the side closer to the DJ booth. In dark jeans and a grey button down with sleeves rolled to the elbows, he nudges out a chair for Dante before sinking into his own.

Jane reaches rub, rubbing the side of her nose for a moment. There's no indication that Antonio is actually there other than, well, speaking directly to him. "Sure. You'll be my wimp, right?" Plucking the current toothpick out from between her teeth, she slides a thumb along it and then gives it a snap. "Nice and clean, remember that?" The broken toothpick goes away into a pocket of her GHPD issue overcoat. And then there's a fresh cinnamon-scented one from a little tube, and a visibly depressed, deflated air to go with it. "Who knew. College girls this far south?"

"What are you, some kind of cop or something?" Alison spits out with a small note of venom in her soft voice, then turns in her seat towards the source of the rulebook enforcement courtesy of Jane. And given her outfit, it pretty quickly becomes obvious that, yes, she is some kind of cop or something. Ugh. Without a further word, she turns back towards the stage, takes a long sip from her drink, and stares back at the stage in hopes of something a little more pleasing to the eye than that uniform.

The schoolgirl uniform courtesy of Magenta on stage does, in fact, prove to be a little more enticing, amongst the woman's other assets, but her heart's not quite in it. Oh well.

"You know, this was the first place I ended up when I came to town? I went in and out of nearly every place until I found somewhere with a crowd." Dante is, as usual, dressed to the nines. It's a three piece forest green suit with a brown paisley pocket square, gold buttons and a white dress shirt beneath. "I'm a bit surprised you wanted to come here, considering you work here," he says to Cristobal as he sits down at the table. "And on amateur night. Are we going to see which of our public servants and librarians is secretly a wild child with great knockers and cut abs?" He smiles sharkily.

"You'd do well, I think. No guns on stage, of course. Wouldn't want any accidents." Antonio chuckles under his breath, smirking toward the police officer and setting his empty martini glass down on the bartop with a wink to Kass.

Magenta touches down on the stage after sliding down the pole, leaving her to slowly unbutton her skimpy blouse while gyrating to the beat of the hip-hop music. A few customers throw modest tips her way, which earns a half-smile from the amateur.

"Another person standing there hovering is just going to get in the way of the people whose job it actually it is to be there," says Gabriel, to Sparrow, in an answer to a question that she did not ask but perhaps that he implied. He looks up at the dancer, and then at the drink being dropped off for him. But he has the same tone of worry, too.

Bean looks over to Dante then blushes just as some words are overheard, she looks back to the stage as they announed a dancer! Her eyes turn to the stage as she sips on her drink, swirling the ice in her glass occasionally

Kass swings by Cristobal and Dante's table, offering a bright white smile in the midst of shimmering gold, "Hi! Welcome to Platinum Cabaret, what's your pleasure?" Yep, that's an actual line that comes out of her mouth. She lifts her head to give a smile and nod towards Antonio, his drink will be right up! Once they've given their orders, she's off! Back to the drink station, putting in orders and glancing around to see who might need a refill or doesn't yet have a drink in hand. When the drinks are up, she's zooming away once more. A martini is dropped with Antonio before she's off to drop off a round of shots with some college kids, then back along to grab up empty glasses before finally dropping the drinks with Cris and Dante!

Sparrow has an answer for Kass when she comes back with that pair of drinks, telling the girl all in gold, "That's the plan," even if that's not exactly precisely entirely a yes. The lifted and swiftly upended shot seems to be a step in that direction. Her attention strays when she catches Cristobal and Dante arriving together, the faintest lift of the left corner of her lips teasing out a grin that doesn't fully form. Before Kass gets too far, Sparrow asks, "A couple prairie fire for the pair by the DJ booth," with a bit of pointing thattaway. "And you can tell the brit he brought it on himself." That business tended, she gets to ehr feet and angles a look toward Gabriel. "I'm here, right? Cuz that's gonna go over real damned well later, but." Shrug. She hefts her beer and starts towards Alison's table, asking the redhead, "This seat taken?" of a seat that is currently very much unoccupied.

Magenta eventually tosses her blouse on the stage, leaving her in a lace white bra and pleated skirt. The skirt itself is soon shimmied down her hips, and she's crawling along the perimeter of the stage, whispering quiet thanks and offering a suggestive wink to those who throw tips.

Jane has a minor malevolent glow, just smirking at the back of Alison's head when the criticism and the realization hit one after the next. Though beyond that it's just a bland, swivel-headed posture, looking amidst the crowd more than just one or two patrons at a time. The teeth marks apparent on her latest toothpick have it looking like a lockpick tool when she picks it out, snaps it, pockets it away; her attention has swivelled briefly towards Gabriel and the drink in front of them, before moving away with a bullish huff through the nostrils.

Park sends off a couple of texts from the booth before spotting a familiar bouncer. Waves for Cristobal...and Dante too. If she wasn't working, there'd be so many hugs to give out. Park's a big fan of the schoolgirl look - people keep asking her to wear one - but seeing the cop motif out there too has her giggling. These events are such fun!

Antonio returns to his drink, shooting Kass a smile of gratitude before he takes a swig. "Takes all types, doesn't it?" He watches Jane for a few moments before his attention is back to the stage, equally divided between the performer and his beverage. Eventually, he taps the microphone back on and his voice cuts across the speakers.

"Alright, alright! Let's hear it for Magenta, our first performer!"

Bean moves through the sea of peoples, she lets her short body be engulfed within the masses. Dissapearing for a time the little redhead finally finds her way over to Everett's table and smiles "How did you ever get a table?"

"Bourbon, neat." Cris asks of Kass with a wink, pointing at Dante for him to fill in what he'd like. He's still nursing a hangover from his evening at the Pourhouse, but he's hiding it well beneath a recently bruised face and split lip combo. "Amateur night is precisely why we're here. See some tits I haven't seen before." Cris says to Dante, matching that sharky grin with a wry twist of his own. Those he knows get a little up-nod, his eyes lingering on a Redhead for a moment, "In theory."

Alison 's eyes linger a little longer on Magenta as the undergarments come off. She offers a kind of half assed wolf whistle, then nurses her drink a bit more. Sparrow's approach proves to be a little more appealing to Ali, though, the skirt that's possibly a little too short to be justified outside of the setting and the heels - plus the makeup? And that's not even factoring in the whole hair thing, but still. Her expression lightens a little upon recognizing the woman, and her sneakered foot shifts slightly to move the indicated chair out a bit in Sparrow's direction. "Nah. You're looking fantastic as usual. You gonna be dancing?" One of her eyebrows heads north for the window at this statement, inquisitive tones coloring her words.

Kass pauses at Sparrow's call, flashing her a grin and wink, "You got it!" When her fellow redhead is off to sit by Alison (redheads unite!), she darts off to gather up extra empties before swinging back around the drink station with the next round of orders. She gives a cheer for Magenta because everyone deserves encouragement for getting up on that stage! Getting her next round of drinks, her first stop is Cristobal and Dante, setting down a pair of shots with a grin, "From the redhead over yonder. She said, and I quote, 'you brought this on yourself'. Later!" And she's off! A beer gets dropped off for Everett. "Hey Ev! Good to see you!" Then she's off to drop off a few mixed drinks for a group of 'mature' women who apparently came here expecting hot young studs.

Magenta collects the tips that have been thrown onto the stage by a few customers, unclasping her bra and shimmying off stage in only her lacy white panties. She blows a kiss to the crowd as she heads back toward the dressing room, at least ending her performance on a high note.

"Gin and tonic, my dear," says Dante to Kass. And apparently there's Prairie Fires too. He looks around when he's directed towards Sparrow. He sniffs it, smiles wide, lifts the drink in salute and knocks it back. He only coughs a little at the mixture of tabasco and tequila. Then he turns to Cris, and reaches out to try and catch his chin to have a look at the split lip. "You might want to knock your shot past your teeth. Tabasco and open wounds are an unfriendly combination."

Jane brings her hands up, still in bulky winter gloves, for a polite golf clap. Probably lost amidst the general admiration but who says cops can't be gracious? At rest she still presents a prickly, all-too-officious figure.

"I hope she does." Dahlia had quipped back to Antonio with a laugh about Jane stripping out of her cop outfit. Then she was slipping off to mingle with the crowd again as the first dancer of the night, Magenta, is called up. She makes her way, eventually, back over to the bar where she asks for two bottles of water, doing a little light flirting with some of the patrons at the bar. Once the water is in hand, she makes her way towards where Jane was standing. "Thirsty?" She asks, offering the cop the second bottle of water. "Turn anyone away yet?" As far as the ID checking went, as she took a sip of her own water.

Turning his attention towards Bean, his shallow smile appears momentarily again while Everett's big mitts rise to applaud Magenta politely. Leaning towards Bean so his deep voice doesn't have to carry as far, Everett offers Bean, "It's a trade secret. I show up, and people just volunteer their seats." Or he's so tall, from up here, he can see vacant tables better, and you all look like tiny ants. The seat beside him receives a double pat, an invitation for Bean. He looks down when a beer suddenly manifests itself in front of him and follows the golden arm that delivered it, smiling once again at Kass' back before he puts his hand around the bottle. "Did I say the service here was great?"

"Hey! Fibby!" Oh? What's that? Some other cop razzing Jane, the former FBI agent? Yes, that would be Gabriel. But it is in all in good fun, right? Sure. The homicide detective makes his way over, eyeing her in her gloves. "You know, you can take some of your clothes off without getting on stage, right?"

Sparrow gives a little wiggle of her hips--which results in a little swish of her pleated too-short skater skirt--in answer to Alison's appreciation. "Prolly, yeah." But not quite yet, given that she drops her ass into that empty seat. Once settled, she turns a look to see if the shots have been delivered yet, just in time to catch the drop off and the salute from Dante. She smiles wide across the room, lifting her beer in answer. When she looks to Cristobal, there's a little flicker of a glance toward his split lip, one brow cocked with curiosity, but her attention moves on readily enough. Returning her focus to Alison, she asks, "You just here to look?"

Cris is leaning forward for his shot when Dante reaches for his chin. In answer, he teases his tongue along that split in his lip as if to irritate on purpose. "You're always so concerned for my comfort." He then upends the combination - past his lips as suggested - and gives a shudder. "I wonder if that little note was meant for you or me."

The club boss smirks to Dahlia, shrugging his shoulders. "Suppose I can't complain about free security." Antonio swigs his martini and taps the microphone back on.

"We're just getting started, folks. We got half price drinks all night, two-for-one lapdances, and cash prizes for the best amateur performers. Get your asses up here and sign up if you wanna dance. If you don't wanna dance, make sure you're splashing that cash. Treat yourself."

No reply to her texts but Park knows her friend is in good hands; or might be soon. She drops a track for Jane...assuming that she is a prospective amateur and needs a little encouragement; 'Hot Cop' by the Village People! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwrX8DuZr6s)

Bean shakes her head and she looks to the glass amused, and she sits in the offered seat, she looks to Kass and then to Everett with a little nod of her head "indeed it is." she says as she draws a little breath. "Cider please" she pipes up as she gets situated

Jane appreciates the water order. She has a gracious smile even while pulling out a money clip and guesstimating the usual strip club markup; she errs on the side of generous for Dahlia's sake with a more diminished clip returned to her pocket. "Thank you. And no. So far, so good. Let's keep it that way, okay?" And despite the gloves there's no real hardship in managing the cap, going about it with a careful, precise, 'been in a NW winter before' gentleness so that she can take a deep drink without losing track of the rest of the club. "Just be smart about serving people, ok-.." Well, that's something new. There's a brittle, fracutreable quality to her smile as she recaps her bottle. It's not bad enough to spark a blush but she does turn around and stares at Gabriel with an open, intense, 'what the fuck are you doing' incredulity to the way she tilts her head.

"Hah, well, I tend to try and make friends by buying rounds of these. So I'm guessing it was meant for me?" Dante leans back in his seat, an arm draped along the back. He watches the crowd, picking out familiar faces. "I don't think I could do it. Dance in front of a crowd in a town this small. I'm a terrible dancer for one. But also, I'd imagine that my neighbours would be forever picturing me in my skivvies," he says to Cris.

"But being good can be so boring." Dahlia teased, giving both Jane and Gabe a wink as she tucked the money into her bikini top for now. "Don't worry, I leave the real serving to the waitresses. I just like to lend a hand now and again." She assures the woman. "Are you gonna get up and dance for us some time tonight? It's a lot of fun you know."

Damn if those eyes don't follow Sparrow's hips as they jut out from side to side. "..cool." Alison blushes just the slightest amount that might only be noticed by someone watching deliberately for it. The word comes after a beat, her eyes darting away once she realizes that she's staring. She doesn't pick up on the precise meaning about the song that Park plays, but the change in the music selection makes her glance in the direction of the DJ booth, then wave at the woman when she thinks that Park might be looking out towards the crowd. And then as Sparrow addresses her again, "Yeah. I've got no idea what I'd be doing up there. Good to get the blood pumping once in a while, I figure."

After a few moments, Kass is swinging back around by Cristobal and Dante, "One bourbon neat, one gina nd tonic! Don't forget to tip the dancers, takes guts to get on that stage!" Then she's grinning and off again! An Angry Orchard gets dropped off for Bean before she's over to pick up the shot glasses from a table of middle management types. Zoom!

At the severe look he gets from Jane, Gabriel just holds up his hands to her, as if to say 'I surrender.' He picks up his drink and raises it to her in a salute. "Have a good night. Catch you around elsewhere." And then he is swinging by the DJ booth to flash Park a grin between 'competitors.' "Hey. Long time."

Antonio watches Kass work with a smirk, swigging back his martini and casting a look now and again toward the uniformed cop. When Park mixes it up with a Village People track, Antonio laughs heartily and flips the mic back on.

"Give it up for our sexy DJ. Don't forget to tip her too. Hell yeah."

"So this is your particular brand of torture?" Cris says, toying with the empty shot, running his finger around the rim where a stain of tabasco remains, "That'd do it. All I did was bounce her around my kitchen counters." He grins again, then touches that sore spot on his lip with the liquid from his finger. "I imagine most people already have a mental image of you in your 'skivvies', English. But now I'm going to insist on a private dance later." As Kass drops off drinks, he hands her some bills to cover the drinks and to pass along to the dancers so he doesn't have to get up from his conversation.

Jane puts the rest of the water bottle into one of her winter coat pockets. They're handy for that at least. And the extra warmth doesn't seem to bother her at all, "Be as bad as you want. I'm not going to disagree; just be safe about it?" The best she can manage is a bland smile for this momentary PSA, one hand stroking down the outside of her jacket but it's far too early to dip into another toothpick. "And legal. Overserving is a crime.." On that she sounds distracted, absent, coming up with it when going to follow after Gabriel while weaving through tables. And at first, she doesn't really say shit; she just crowds in on the detective so that the minute he looks around, bam, Jane.

"Oh well then, maybe the message was for you," says Dante to Cris with that particular sing-song he gets when he's being a bit naughty. "I promise you, whatever you're imagining is likely better than the real thing. I have rhythm on the piano, but not so much on the dance floor." He pulls his drink towards him and sips. "Do you ever partake in the services of the staff here when you're off-duty? Seems like that might be mixing business and pleasure."

Antonio swirls his martini at the bar, watching the crowd with an enthusiastic grin splashed across his face -- notwithstanding the active presence of the local 5-0. "Treat yourself. We got our next performer in just a few minutes, folks." The owner's voice floats over the hip-hop music.

"That's a shit excuse to be at a titty bar," Sparrow informs Alison, leveling her with a playfully stern look, her uneven grin kinda undermining the effectiveness of those imperious eyebrows. "You could 'get the blood pumping' in the privacy of your own home." Here, she might be looking for a bit of blushing, belatedly, but she doesn't elaborate. Not on that. Instead, she tells the natural redhead, "I'm here because the world is better with my ass in it--" She's counting, one finger extended. A second goes up. "--to pick up cute girls who appreciate my cute ass, and." The third finger goes up, but she hesitates, voice a little lower as she mutters, "Cuz the only other place I might be isn't somewhere I'm either useful or wanted, so." That's a good time to take a long pull from her beer. When it comes down, she mutters, "Think I'm up next," and shrugs out of her star-spattered jacket to reveal the short-sleeved white button down below, the words SELF SERVE stenciled in fading black at about collarbone level on either side. Okay, so, she's almost got a school girl thing going between the white shirt and the half-pleated skirt, but it's heavily punked up.

"Hey!" Park grins to Gabriel as he comes to visit. He will get a hug, he's within range. "How are you? Do you have a request? Oh! Are you going to dance? You totally should. I think there's a whole bunch of ladies at that table over there who would love to see you shake your stuff. And anything else you wanted to shake." A grin for Alison's wave, and a wave back, before expectant attention is back on Gabriel.

Bean once again looks over to Gabriel as she is seated near Everett she drinks on her cider and watches the performances. She dose give money here and there to the dancers, but she seems to be reserved in doing so.

"Alright, alright! We've got -Sparrow- coming to you in a just a couple minutes on the stage. And remember, if you like that ass, you better splash that cash." The boss's voice echoes over the loudspeaker as he takes up the mic at the bar, seeming quite enthused for the amateur performance. "Treat yourself."

Gabriel wraps an arm around Park and gives her a kiss on the cheek when she hugs him. "I'm good! Even better getting to hang out here for a bit. Good to see you. Have you seen Lyric or Ma --" And then the detective feels Jane looming behind him just as Sparrow is announced. He spins, facing Jane. "Can I help you, boot?"

"Never. This place gets enough jealous boyfriends, I don't need to be one of them." Cris' hand goes to Dante's thigh beneath the table, giving a light squeeze as he simultaneously leans over and gives an open mouthed bite to the man's besuited shoulder. "I rarely even come here on my time off, just to drink."

"And a few jealous ones who only wish they were their boyfriends," says Dante as he leans over to watch a dancer pass. His attention returns back with the hand and the bite, and he's grinning with a glint in his eye. "I'm flattered. All the pretty things on offer and you're still taking a bite out of me?" Then he turns to look towards the stage. "Well, it seems the little bird is going to do a dance." Dahnce. Of course. So very English.

Alison snirks at Sparrow's response. "Yeah, probably a shit excuse, but it's not like I'm seeing any titties but my own at home. And I've seen those enough by now." A sip from her pina colada. The enumerated list holds Alison's attention for long enough to get to the third one. "Babe, I hardly believe that there's anywhere in the world that wouldn't want your cute ass around." When the woman gets up, she checks out the aforementioned cute ass for a moment, but then looks up towards her face like a normal person. "Yeah? Well, good luck. Or is it break a leg? I don't know what you say at a thing like this."

The closer look at the woman's blouse makes her face contort slightly, a shake of the head coming quickly afterwards. And no small amount of blushing, either. Hell. Of course she has to be wearing something like that.

Cristobal's money clip makes a reappearance, "You should go tip her for us." Seems Cristobal even has a thing about going up to the stage whether or not the people on it work here or not. That or maybe he wants to see Dante make it rain on Sparrow.

Jane hangs out with Gabriel now; that's not including the consistent sweep of her attention across the crowd. The dancers are nice; she'd love to watch that. But mostly it's just club patrons that have all of her attention in that semi-accusatory squint. "Keep that shit to lineup, /detective./" There is that new-ice thin derision, all of pitched low enough for Gabriel despite the thump of whatever's good for shaking an ass to tonight, just as easy to crack with enough tension. "That's your last drink tonight, too."

Leaning away, Everett withdraws his wallet and puts it on the table with Bean before leaning towards her again, "I can trust you with this, I'm sure. But it doesn't count if you make it rain with my own money, so's you know, honey." He winks at her, then gives her a nudge with his elbow, before turning his attention to the stage while taking a shallow drink.

Sparrow isn't really aiming for a schoolgirl look tonight even if the outfit edges on the evocation thereof. She wears a short-sleeved white button down, untucked, with the words SELF SERVE stenciled across the front at collarbone height on either side. It's paired with an asymmetrical black skater skirt with pleats on one side, straight on the other, wrapped around and secured with a pair of buckles. The matte black over-the-knee tights she wears with it fall a few inches short of meeting that skirt, leaving a little bit of milky thigh on shameless display even before her dance has begun. Her chunky-heeled ankleboots give her a few extra inches of height, edging awfully close to six feet tall without quite making it. They're good and stompy as she climbs up onto stage and flashes a wicked grin over the crowd with her high-gloss red lips. It's the only pop of color, eyes done up dark in a shimmering greyscale tonight.

Her song starts right up with guitar, synth, drums when the neon redhead takes the stage, setting her hips to swishing to the rhythm. Hands come up to undo the first done-up button and catch on the cloth, offering flashes of the black bra below as she pulls it out and in again in time with the repeated, "Breathe, breathe," of the song. Rather than open the shirt farther when the verse kicks in properly with, "You feel that pressure, baby, you feel it taking hold!" she drops low, flashing those in front of the stage with the bright red panties beneath that short black skirt, intent on teasing before anything comes off. She's not the best dancer in the world, but the girl's got confidence in spades, so much swagger as she stomps and bends and flashes about the stage or spins around the pole inexpertly. Who cares how much skill she's got? She's having fun.

"Lyric should be here but I don't know who 'Ma' is" Park begins to reply before Gabriel is being harrassed by one of the amateur dancers; the one in the cop uniform. "Oh, do you know each other? Hello, Boot, I'm Mee." Hug coming unless avoided. "Let me know what music you want but I just have to get Sparrow's going. She is soooo cool. Watch her!" Park certainly will be.

"Ohhh yeah! Show some love! Treat yourself." Antonio's enthusiastic words boom from the club's speakers as the amateur performer works the crowd.

Bean laughs softly after exchanging glances, she blushes as Everett hands her his wallet, she looks through it and grins "No? Well I brought enough to rain on you darlin" she says to the very large biker. A breath taken as she is nudged... what? /what?/ she was not looking at Gabriel nope! Well

pose laughs softly after exchanging glances, she blushes as Everett hands her his wallet, she looks through it and grins "No? Well I brought enough to rain on you darlin" she says to the very large biker. A breath taken as she is nudged... what? what? she was not looking at Gabriel nope! Well; she was not anymore at least as she gets herself another drink on Ev's cash ... she needs hers to throw at him after all

"Are you being my sugar daddy, Cristobal? Giving me money to give the pretty ladies?" Dante seems amused by this. "Isn't it usually customary to let the dancer start before you start giving them money? Ah, there she goes." He turns his attention towards the stage. Then he takes a breath and reaches for the other man's money clip. "Only because I haven't got many small bills with me." And then, the be-suited man stands and makes his way towards the stage with a flip to resettle his suit jacket as he goes.

"Mae! I meant Mae!" Gabriel corrects the name for Park before he looks back at Jane, giving her a look that goes from 'harass the newbie' to utter confusion. "Who -- what?" He is practically sputtering now in just bafflement. "Seriously? You've been here a week. I don't know if you know, but I've been putting down homicides while you were figuring out where the key pegs for the motorpool are. I don't have my gun, I can take an Uber home, and you can fucking learn to chill and enjoy the show." He shakes his head. "Check out Sparrow. She's incredible." He puts his fingers in his mouth, wolf-whistling loudly. "Work it, Phil!"

"We having fun? You got the best bartenders, waitresses, and entertainers in town working hard for you. Splash that cash, ladies and gentlemen." Antonio sees dollar signs through all of the fun, as if that wasn't obvious enough.

Cristobal grins wickedly at Dante as he slouches back in his chair, dragging his bourbon with him. "Something like that." Cris says as to being a Sugar Daddy, his tongue touching a canine with a half sneer, half smirk as Dante takes the money clip and heads up to the stage. Oh yes, he's going to enjoy this.

Alison leans as far back as her chair will allow her without going all tail over teakettle, watching the stage, or maybe the person on it, closely. The shit mood that'd been darkening her expression melts away before too long, Sparrow's moves and (sort of) subtle flirtations with the crowd and the chair having what's likely meant to be the intended effect on Alison, at least. Her legs cross, and then uncross to cross in the other direction. And also drain the last dregs of her pina colada, eyes not darting away from the stage.

"I am very impressed. Stop acting like a jackass, pretend you're a professional for Christ's sake." It's all very quiet, very hissed, with Jane rebuking Gabriel in the simplest syllables she can find. "I'm not here for the tits and ass." There is maybe just a gloating hint there, there and gone, in the way Jane smirks at Gabriel, "So don't make everyone /else/ look bad by getting popped for a dewey." From there she starts to move away. For a better view of the crowd, sure; and because having the last word is always good in professional disputes. And.. well, she'd like to drink from the water she was sold earlier, clearing away the flush across her cheeks.

"Then what even are you here for?" asks Gabriel with a baffled look at Jane's back as she stalks off, shaking his head. Aaaanyway. He looks over his shoulder at Park, as if to say, 'people, huh?' and then takes a quaff of his drink, as if to prove his point. Bean does get a glance, however.

Sparrow doesn't leave the crowd wanting for too terribly long. The first verse is hardly through by the time she's got that button-down fully unbuttoned, pulled wide open to reveal the sheer black bra with red floral embroidery obscuring absolutely nothing below. When she slips it off, it's not simply dropped to the floor, but tossed toward Alison with a wink. "Ooooooooh, I melt like solid gold." Her skirt hits the stage rather heavily when both buckles are undone, when she lets gravity do the work for her and succumbs to it herself, turned ass-out toward the majority of the crowd, legs parted, with a hand up to cover the black-edged red fabric between her legs and drag those fingers back up with her as she straightens again to strut about in just those stompy heels, high socks and her red-and-black undies, working the crowd more than she's working the pole.

Jane has some withering contempt for Gideon. Kind of like he'd been peeing in her gas tank or leaving a poop bag on the doorstep. Either way, it's nasty, it has her face scrunched up into a near-snarl.. and then it all fades away back to professional blankness. She's going to move away from there and back towards the other side of the club, with an itchy-hare-trigger kind of keenness that is bad news for kids with fake IDs or anyone with keys in their hands past the two-drink-limit.

Dante is a tall guy who looks like he has money. So he manages to make his way to the edge of the stage fairly easily, offering a fairly generous tip in Sparrow's direction. He is really a nice guy, but sometimes his expressions really make him look like he's up to no good. Maybe it's the straight, white teeth. Maybe it's dark eyes. Maybe it's the half-curl of his lip and straight posture. Maybe it's the dark lower lashline. Hard to say, exactly. "Love the shoes," he says over the music, and seems to mean it.

Leaning over to Bean again, the big ape holds up a finger to her to hold on, "I'll be right back," he says, excusing himself from the table and leaving his beer with her as well. He has a strip club owner to find and speak with. On his way back, Everett bends over and pecks a kiss on Bean's head before he sits back down. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Work it and twerk it. That ass ain't free, folks. If you like what you see, get up there and tip." Antonio's vocal suggestion carries over the music, as the club owner sits at the strip club's bar with microphone in hand.

No hug for Jane then. Park backs away with a pout before her smile returns for Gabriel's shrug. "I'm sure she's very nice" she offers sincerly; Park finds it hard to disline anyone. "Sparrow is so good" she sighs, noticing the effect it has on Alison's mood too. "I wish I had curves to show off." A quick check of the music playlist for the foreseeable future before she gives Gabriel another quick hug. "I have to go the little girl's room. I think that girl likes you" she grins with a point at Bean. "Have fun tonight!"

Bean glances to Gabe she winks his direction even as his company chastises him. A smirk crossing her features as she turns to watch Everett, her eyes on the man.. then as he returns she laughs deeply "I know your going to embarass the hell out of me yah?"

Gabriel gives Park a hug back as she heads off to the restroom, grinning at her. He then smiles at the wink from Bean and lifts his drink to her in a little salute of acknowledgment as he watches Sparrow work her stuff on the stage. He stops by the front to toss a $20 at her feet. Because.

Alison goes a little bug eyed when Sparrow's top comes off, and even moreso once the bra comes off. Poor girl probably looks like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of titties in the flesh. When that bra comes in her direction, she's too busy staring at the woman to make any sort of defensive move, so the sheer undergarment hits her directly. Which is when she notices it, with a laugh. "Goddammit, woman." And then the skirt's coming off, and all the hints inherent in all the motions. It's a lot. But also just enough.

The prompt from Antonio gets a glance for a moment, and then a sly grin. She gets up, heads on over to the area in front of the stage, then digs out a small pile of small bills, tossing the $1s and the rare $2 onto the stage. It's a sad way of making it rain, but when you're a waitress, they tend to add up more quickly than how often you can make it to the bank. With a wide grin, "You're killing it!" And then she'll retreat back to her seat, grabbing Sparrow's bra in one hand, thumb idly brushing over the sheer fabric, watching as the woman finishes her set.

"I'm going to try," he offers, the gorilla grabbing his beer again and taking a long drink. Then he looms over the table, letting the beer go to remove socks and his gym shoes while he focuses back towards the stage. "Hmm. Boobs," is his commentary, then glances Beanward like he's making a comparison, then up. "Are you going to, what's he always say? 'If you want more, make it downpour'?"

It's a down bubble Uniqlo and thermal leggings kind of night for Eden as the newcomer passes through the doors to the Platinum. She's still stylish, sure, but more importantly, she's warm. She can't suppress a small grin at... well, something about the place, as she hands over her ID and gets her hand stamped. Then her hands busy themselves making sure her afro is properly fluffed in all directions as she looks around. "You haven't happened to see a lady come in here," she asks the ID-checker, "tall, blonde, kinda wearing a police uniform?"

Sparrow's strutting with her tits free and jiggling when Dante's approach draws her attention, so very close to the side of the stage. With the music changing pace, "Heartbeat's racing after you," she dips down in front of him with her knees parted shamelessly wide and leans in to catch his lapels and give him a little tug closer. And time enough to tuck that money somewhere secure if he doesn't wanna just drop it on stage for her to sweep up after. She leans in as the singer croons, "Truth is, nothing else will do," to murmur a far softer, 'Thank you,' that falls well-below general hearing, before edging back a bit, letting him go. Without quite depriving him of her attention.

Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome serves as a fine target as she moves evocatively, flashing wrists to, "I only wanna be your self-inflicted wound." Her hands draw in and up her thighs as they creep closed. "It's easy, baby, the friction between me and you." When she pushes up, her gaze shoots past, back out into the crowd, to the gentleman's date. "Show me what makes you human. I'll show you vulnerable. You bend, you break, you surrender." Backwards steps have her back to the pole as she drops down again, "I melt like solid gold."

As the song closes out, she spills onto hands and knees, prowling about the stage with an ass-up lean toward Alison, kiss blown the redhead's direction. While she's down there, when the song actually ends, she scoops up the rest of her cash and her skirt before slipping from the stage, remaining damned near naked when she finally plunks back down into the seat she'd abandoned just a few minutes before.

"Yeah, she's here. You her girlfriend, sweets?" One of the bouncers smirks to Eden and inclines his head toward Jane.

Bean looks to Everett "yes... there are boobs." she says as she offers her own money to those that are showering on the stripers, "downpour?" she shakes her head slightly "I am not made of money ... but I have some for tonight yah."

"Let's hear it for -Sparrow!- Nice work up on the Platinum stage from an amateur beauty. Coming up in just a couple minutes, we've got the -Candy Man!-" Antonio's voice booms over the loudspeaker as Sparrow's song fades, replaced for the moment by stripper hip-hop.

"Really? C'mon.." There is the slightest warmth of humanity from Jane as she steps right on over and pecks Eden on the cheek. "They can't compare. Let them do whatever.. and don't, like, fuck everything up. My shift is over soon, let's try to avoid a riot." The ice still melting on her shoulders and the drip of condensation everywhere else makes hugging Jane - getting close, squeezing, all that stuff - kind of a messy proposition. But with Eden she holds tight, even with the building blush of neglecting duty turning her cheeks pink to rose to red. "Be gentle, alright?"

Dante watches the up-close and personal show Sparrow is giving him with the same sort of wide-eyed, slightly mischevious look. He knows the etiquette and keeps his hands to himself, except when it comes to an extra tip delivered discretely when she's in close proximity. "Bra-vo," he murmurs, eyebrows arching. He moves back from the stage to let other appreciative audience members tip her properly. There's another flick of his jacket as he makes his way back to Cris and slides in beside him. He retrieves his drink and throws half of it back. "Well now. And you say you had an evening with her? Well done."

Cristobal raises his hands to clap as Sparrow focuses part of her dance on Dante, his bottom lip curling in to give a couple of trill whistles and shouting whoops that continue as the dance ends. He gives a tug to his jean legs and sits up straighter as he waits for Dante to return uncaring of what remains in that money clip if anything.

Alison lets loose another wolf whistle towards Sparrow as she does her thing, though considerably more feeling in it than before, then some clapping. The kiss blown towards her elicits another wide grin that stays well after the neon redhead's plunked back down in her nearby seat. She holds the bra back to the woman, "Well, that was fucking hot. You've done this before, I guess?"

Eden gets on tippy-toes in her Uggs to receive the kiss to the cheek. "We stopped bein' girlfriends couple years ago, actually," Eden replies to the bouncer, with a casual sweep of her hand that nonetheless makes the wedding band obvious. "Be gent-- oh, baby, no, no," Eden laughs. She hugs back, then pats Jane on the shoulder to let her know that she can go back to at least LOOKING appropriately on-duty. "No, I just sweet-talked that guy in the station house, what's his face, with the mustache that's kinda too little for his head? Was just checkin' in, I promise. Besides." She leans up, speaking to Jane in more of a murmur, though possibly one that can be overheard if one tries hard enough. "Last thing I want my new co-workers talkin' about in all'a my second week'a work is how I got laser hair removal, you know?"

After the removal of socks and shoes, the giant jogs up to there, to the stage that's all his after flashing Bean a quick grin. And gives a nod towards the booth before taking a stand in the middle, feet spread shoulder width apart, massive paws over each other at his lap. Head down, covered in a curtain of his own long raven hair.

When the song starts, Everett rolls his shoulders. Invisiline. Nothing much sexy about that, so the roll is slow before he lifts his head, leaving some of the strands to hold over his face and the present scowl on his face to show. At first he bobs to the music as it begins, swaying slightly. Then, like he's getting more into it, feeling it more, his hips begin to roll. Long, loose shorts leave much to the imagination.

https://youtu.be/DyDfgMOUjCI

A pluck of his hoodie, a professional might smile, but Everett continues to glare like he lost a bet. A flick of his head to settle more hair over his shoulders. The next verse, he turns, showing ass to the crowd, like it so rough; his paw smacks his ass the sound competing with the sound system. A turn, then down on his knees, reaching back with his left hand when he leans back to roll his hips twice against the air, then clamper back to his feet.

As Dante throws half of his drink back, Cris is leaning in closer so his words are muttered close up to the other man's ear. "Maybe next time we'll share. I'm going to have to insist on that dance now. Let's finish our drinks and get out of here."

Bean looks up to Everett as he begins his not sexy dance, she giggles a little.. and tosses money his way its singles girls. It looks like alot but when things are broken down into 1's it goes a long way..

Jane loses ten or twenty pounds of stress, like a pufferfish deciding that 'nah, this is okay' in their environment. Eden isn

When Everett goes up on stage, leaving the seat next to Bean open, Gabriel makes his move. So to speak. He slides into the seat right next to her, flashing a bright grin. He offers a hand. "Hey. I'm Gabe." Since they've been making eye contact across the room for most of the night, after all.

"Oh you want to go already?" says Dante, accent rolling over those words in response to Cris. "Well all right then." He reaches over to tuck Cris' money clip away (with what's left in it) hand disappearing from sight for a moment. Then he keeps eye contact with the other as he drains the rest of his drink.

Jane loses ten or twenty pounds of stress, like a pufferfish deciding that 'nah, this is okay' in their environment. Eden isn't going to take the stage, so she can relax. And start looking official again, with the glaring, mean squint that rakes over everyone. She is kind of molllified by having a bottle of water in her pocket to finish off, but there is still that laser-like focus on anyone having /too good/ of a time. "They're nowhere near as good. Just so you know." There is a touch of smug there when comparing whoever's on stage to Eden. "..do you mind cooking tonight, by the way?"

Sparrow settles her clothes and cash in a pile on the table, careful not to knock over what's left of her beer. All she pulls from it, at first, is her shirt to slip it on and approach some measure of modesty which might be more convincing if she actually did up any of the buttons. It's not her top priority. "Once," she admits to Alison with a low-lidded grin. "Feels good up there. You should try it." She snorts a laugh at the beginning of the next song, recognizing it, and claps for Everett as he gets started. There might be a wink and nod back toward Gabe and some approving consideration of Cris and Dante, but most of her attention returns to the redhead at her side--and the cash she's collecting into one neat little pocket-ready pile. "Want another drink? On me?"

There is a grunt from Cristobal as he scoots slightly closer to Dante, watching the writer drain his drink with a curl of his lip. "Just let me say goodbye to Sparrow. C'mon if you want." He's leaning over to kiss Dante just behind the ear before he slips from his chair and goes to prowl to find the saucy Redhead.

Eden watches Everett smack his be-shortsed ass and glare back at the crowd while Jane mentions that 'they're nowhere near as good.' "No... no, I, uh, I kinda figured that out, hon," she says in a tone of voice that's not QUITE patronizing, but maybe a little embarrassed for the big guy up there. She looks over, and grins. "Besides, how the fuck would you know? You never even saw me." She gives Jane a gentle elbow to the ribs-ish area. "I'm gonna look around a little more. I was thinking chicken parm tonight. I watched the Alton Brown thing."

"Whatever you say, sugar daddy," says Dante with a clip of his syllables. He follows behind Cris as the other goes on a Sparrow-seeking mission. Never mind he's the one in the fancy suit.

The hoodie zipper is pulled down quickly, and shirked off his shoulders in time for him to pec thrust twice. Chest always so puffed guy. The hoodie is released to trace a tear down his cheek, then a fleeting smirk towards the crowd at the line that follows sad moms. He snaps back, fake collar pop while he sinks down and grinds his hips, his hoodie slipping off his tree-truck forearms. He's the bad guy. Duh.

From the low crouch, Everett slips forward, to the floor. It isn't quite a push-up, while he simulates a slow, deep sex act with the space between him and the stage, the tight tee-shirt showing his muscles moving while he grinds, again, twice, before he gets to his hands and knees and stalks a few steps closer. Like an animal; he snarls towards the crowd. Rawr. And finally color pinks his cheeks. But the show must go on.

Bean laughs enjoying the dance from Everett she chuckles and blushes as she tosses more cash his way. "Boyfriend?" she asks looking back to the large man who is dancing, she watches him for a long long moment. "He is not sure yet." she says to Gabriel with a little shrug of her shoulder, "do not worry, he wont eat you, at least, I dont, think he will." she chuckles and murmers

Gabriel doesn't seem, well, he doesn't seem entirely mollified by the insistence that Everett will not, in fact, eat him. The detective glances towards the stage as if to check on that particular aspect. Eating? Hmmm. Bench press? Maybe. He takes another swig of his drink.

Alison can't help but roll her eyes at the suggestion. "Everyone keeps saying that. I don't know how to strut like that, though. And yeah, people tell me that it's not about having tits and ass, but it sure helps." The natural redhead's eyes glance Sparrow up and down once more as she sits in the hair, loosely covered by the button down shirt. "Not like you need any help in that department, though."

Some hesitation at the offer of another drink. "Sure. Another pina colada would be great." Her attention shifts to Everett on stage. Of course he's on stage, humping away at the air. Another roll of the eyes and then back towards Sparrow. "Did you get lessons at dancing like that, or is that all you?"

Sparrow's easy to find, what with that neon-bright hair of hers, even as her head tips toward Alison's shoulder. "I could always use some help with it," she purrs with a shameless grin and a tiny shimmy. Her head lifts as her attention swings around in search of a server, flagging one down to ask for a couple of refills. In between, there's a bit of hooting for Everett's slithering and snarling, some cash thrown his way in appreciation for a male presence on the stage. With a snort of laughter, she looks back to Alison and shakes her head. "That's all me. And I'm more than glad to give lessons in how to give no fucks and in how to find the rhythm and fall in love with it, but." The shake of her head says loud and clear that she doesn't think of herself as a dancer.

Leaving Jane to her policeful glaring, Eden starts to roam the club proper. She does throw a wolf-whistle Everett's way, since it's good karma to encourage people. As she passes by Sparrow's seat, she glances down at the cash the woman raked in, and says, "Girl, someone did GOOD up there tonight," lilting her voice just-so, to make it clear it's a compliment. She's all smiles as she keeps prowling, though she stops next to Alison so that she can slip a five out of her Uniqlo, lean on the edge of the stage, and offer it out towards Everett like a test.

Cris motions to Everett on stage with a couple folded bills as he passes Kass, then drops them onto her tray with one separate to tip her for delivering the one on his behalf. Then he's approaching Sparrow with zero consideration for interrupting her conversation besides a quick, "S'up." Towards Alison before he's going lean into Sparrow to dip a finger low on her sternum and trace the line up until it catches her chin to direct it upwards for a kiss on the cheek. "Call me." The way it's growled sounds more like a demand than a request.

At the edge of the stage, Everett pushes back with his hands then climbs to his feet. He drops low and takes a wide stance, knees far apart. Hips roll deeply counter clockwise, while his hands hang, lifeless, behind his body. A couple of rotations, then before he can puff his chest out once more, his hands reach up, grab a handful of material each and pull apart, ripping the open like cotton candy to the collar which resists the tear. Leave it on or take it off, is a quick choice, the destroyed article of clothing pulled over his head quickly leaving nothing between eyes and the hours of hard gym work. He likes it when you get mad.

With his knees still apart, rolling his hips, he slides his right hand down; down his chest, his abdomen, and slips it into his shorts which accept the broad arm without complaint. He tilts his head back, looking very pleased, while the thumb of his other hand pulls at his left hip and, like the Coppertone kid, shows a lethal amount of hip, and nothing else. A wolf-whistle turns his pink into near fuschia, that creeps to his pale white chest. Under the shorts, Everett's bare.

The last two words are repeated, and Everett starts to wiggle more, pulling the waistband down deeper, slower, threatening to to show more. Until the song stops, and so does Everett. He's a bad guy. A bad red cheeked bad guy who's in a hurry to pick up his clothes and get off the stage with the shreds of his tee-shirt, and pride; and spilt money.

"Look what you've done. You've got him all riled up," says Dante as he appears just behind Cris as he leans in to Sparrow. "He'll be insufferable for the rest of the night." He flashes a toothy smile.

Sparrow hasn't a clue who Eden is, but that doesn't keep her from blowing a flirty kiss in the stranger's direction when she passes by with that praise, dark lashes dipped low as she tracks that prowling for a few seconds. Right up until Cristobal commands her focus rather directly. She pays no mind to the finger finding her bare chest, bright-eyed attention turned upward to those pale eyes of his with a cocky little smirk. Her head lifts further at the catch of that digit against her chin, leaving her stretching slightly as she tilts toward that cheek-kiss. The only answer he gets is a lift of her own hand to where his began, a little cross drawn over the center of her chest. Gaze flicked toward Dante, she purrs, "You're welcome," then blows him a little kiss too. But the song's ending, and her arms go up to applaud loudly for the large man gathering up his cash and clothes, shameless in her praise for her fellow amateur rocking the stage tonight.

Gabriel murmurs quietly with Bean back and forth while Everett dances, the two smiling from time to time. He then takes a scrap of paper from her and slips her something in return. There's then a kiss to the cheek and he vacates the table ... just in time for Everett to get off of the stage.

Alison snorts loudly at the little line of using some help, but then she leans closer to Sparrow, whispering something in her ear before pulling back away with a blush. "Maybe I should take you up on that sometime. Always seem to run into you in crowded situations like this. No real chance for a proper conversation and all, you know?"

Cristobal's approach makes Alison look towards him appraisingly. "Hi." A quick glance up and down, but no more than that. His gaze is fixed on Sparrow, and can you blame him, really? The man's brief touch, and slightly less brief smooch against that jawline of hers makes Alison grin, though she minds her own business at that little interaction. Aside from watching. anyways.

Cris' only parting after Sparrow crosses her chest is to give a little tug to one of her bright red locks of hair before he turns his attention back to Dante. "That doesn't sound like a complaint." He hitches his head towards the door, reaching for the other man's hand to twine fingers and head in that direction, the movement to hold hands probably a touch possessive more than affectionate. He is latino after all.

Bean stands up at the end of the performance and she claps wildly happy that he danced. "Yeah!" she says as she moves from the table to trickle a few more dollars over the large mans head. "all that rawering, would you like steak?" she grins as she intercepts him as he gets off the stage

"Duty calls," says Dante before he's tugged away by Cristobal's insistent hand. And then, with one last glance around the heady room's atmosphere, the Englishman follows the other man out.

Everett showing off that Coppertone-ad-ready hip earns him five bucks. Five bucks, specifically, because Eden tucks the folded bill right into his waistband. She doesn't try anything further -- besides, the song ends a few seconds later, it seems like. "It's a good start, baby, you just keep at it and you'll get the hang of it. More hip shake, you know?" She doesn't quite SOUND like she's making fun of Everett. It might actually be advice given in good faith. Eden makes a sidelong glance, and her gaze follows Alison's. "I think your chance to tip her might'a come 'n gone already," she murmurs.

The tug to her hair brings a bit of color to Sparrow's cheeks and encourages her to look after the pair as they head from the club. They're not quite entirely gone by the time the full weight of her attention is returning to Alison, the freckled redhead given a damned near wolfish once-over. "Wanna get outta here?" she asks, even if she's not the least little bit dressed enough to brave the winter cold.

"Uhh," Everett pauses his mad dash towards 'his' table. An inspection of the currency and the tiny person delivering it give him a moment to consider the advice, "Um. Thanks," but right now he wants to hide.

"Ugh," replies Everett when he gets back to the table; not noticing his seat is still warm. Hunched low over the table, he murmurs further, slipping his hoodie over his bare torso and zipping it up before he'll straighten up and exhale a breath of relief. Nonchalantly, the ape picks up his beer and poises it under his mouth, "I don't know why I do that." He takes a sip of his drink, before putting it down and collect the money Bean drops down on him again and fetches his footwear to put on. "I don't know about a steak, but I could chew on something," Everett murmurs darkly.

When Bean heads off and Gabriel has retreated, he pulls out his phone to text someone about something for some purpose, glancing at the glowing screen as the next whoever goes on. He seems to be considering heading out himself, settling up his tap with the bartender.

Blink. Blinkblink. "Uh, yeah. Definitely. Yes." The question pretty clearly catches Alison entirely off guard, and the way her cheeks blush like that of well ripened tomatoes shows it. She exhales quickly, her hand brushing through her loose hair over her shoulders. "It's fucking freezing out there. You might wanna toss a few things back on, though." Ali fetches the bra from the table, reaching over to place it over Sparrow's chest. And her own fingers maybe lingering a little bit, just as a sly grin finds its way onto her freckled face. "For a little while, anyways."

"Maybe it didn't pass after all," Eden says, to herself, as she watches Alison and Sparrow begin their preparations to make an exit that doesn't involve Sparrow losing an extremity to frostbite. She begins prowling again, checking out the decor, the tables, the waitresses, all of it. Even giving Everett a smile when she passes by him paying off his tab. "Memories," she sing-songs.

Gabriel tucks away his phone then and then gets up to head for the door, blowing a kiss to Sparrow as he goes, though she has her own little retinue around her. He catches a glimpse of Jane and Eden as he passes, and then shrugs his shoulders. "At least her wife is hot," he reflects, and then off to head home before the Bouncer Popo get him.

Whatever Bean whispered to him, Everett smirks softly, and then nods his head. When she excuses herself, he leans back in his chair to watch her go until he can't see her retreating anymore and then returns back to his table. Where was he? Oh yeah, socks. Then shoes. Then organizing mad stacks, well, stacks anyways, with a slight shake of his head. Left on the table, Everett takes another pull from his drink, canting his head questioningly at the sing-songing passing by his table. "You don't have to do that," he mutters with his low cadence, "Someone tipped me five whole dollars. I think I can finally afford that sense of humor operation I've always wanted."

Sparrow looks down at that hand on her chest before she adds her own to hold the bra in place for a second as she murmurs, "Pretty sure this won't help with that all that much." Still, she gets to her feet and secures her skirt, buttons up her shirt and slips on her jacket. Her bra, along with her cash, makes it into one of the pockets, though there's a good bit left behind to cover their tabs. Including the drinks they're not gonna be drinking. All settled up, she holds out a hand to Alison in offering and asks, "Did you drive?" She might catch the look from Eden, the blown kiss from Gabriel, but her attention's pretty Alison-centric at the moment.

Eden glances back over at Everett: "Hmm? Oh, no, sweetie, I was just sayin' that to myself. Long story. Well. Short story, actually, but a not-tonight story anyway. But while I got you? You got the abs. If the dick's good, you're most of the way there. And if it ain't? Stuff. Besides that, all you need is to work on keepin' your hips on beat, buy a g-string -- a quality one that stretches, not some cheap gag shit -- and you'll be makin' your rent in a night in no time." Eden rests her hands on her hips. "Unless you just lost a bet or something, in which case, you can still do all that stuff and maybe use it to grab a date. Never know when you'll need the life skills," she says with a grin and a wink.

"Probably not much help. Still though." Her hand slides away from Sparrow as Alison stands up, pulling her crossbody bag over her shoulder. She grabs her own jacket from near the entrance, a big boofy thing that nearly covers her upper half in warmth. Her arm extends to take Sparrow's offered hand, tugging her in closely. Her car keys appear in her other hand, a grin on her face. "Mmhmm. C'mon."

"I haven't had any complaints so far," starts Everett, still sitting. "I'd get your opinion, but," army green eyes make an obvious glance down to Eden's left hand. Her ring finger specifically. Leaving the sentence unfulfilled as is his speciality, the thug takes another pull from his beer and glances down at it perhaps to judge how much is left. His right elbow lays heavily on the table's surface, and after switching the beer to his left hand, he covers his mouth with his now vacant hand. If anything to cover a potential smile. "I do ok," he offers, albeit slightly muffled even when he pulls his hand away after controlling his demeanor. "You seem like you have some experience with this kinda stuff." His hand comes down and offers a seat that once had a redhead. "Before or after or still the marriage?"

Eden takes the offered seat, and as she sits down, her eyes track Alison and Sparrow leaving together, for just a moment. Then her brown eyes are back on Everett. "Before. Way before." She grins, brightly. "Don't worry, it's not some big secret or anything. Everyone's got bills to pay, and if the landlord ain't gonna be choosy about how I make the rent, then I wasn't about to be choosy either. This a regular thing around here?"

Wrinkling his lips, Everett shakes his head to indicate no. "Insofar as I know? It's happened twice in a span of, uh." His eyes roll to the left while he falls silent and thinks about it. Then shrugs. "I dunno, six-ish months? Something like that. Maybe four. I'm not keeping track." All that thinking requires another drink, before he looks up and around. Waitress. A lift and tip of his beer bottle to let her know he wants another, then circled around the table; for the whole table. "There's nothing wrong with it. I've dated a few pros in Florida; sorta came with the territory." A pause, "But it's not for me, I don't think." Before she can ask, he volunteers, "someone asked me."

"Then what are you doin' here with me?" Eden looks at Everett with one eyebrow lifted and her lips pursed into a near-incredulous smile. "'Someone asked me.' So either they're fuckin' with you, or they're tryin' to fuck you, sounds like. Might wanna figure out which, so you don't miss your shot or anything. Because might be two or three months until the next shot, if your math checks out..."

"Talkin'?" Everett offers with the sound of a question. Combing the fingers of his free hand through his long hair, he lets the strands settle over his shoulders and spill back around while he thinks about what else Eden's said. "Both, probably," he finally figures and nods his head towards the door. "She's definitely the latter, but the first one was probably the former. What with her having been dead and all." And then the addition of, "You know."

Eden takes a moment to parse Everett's reply. Particularly the part of 'her having been dead and all.' "Oh, yeah, no, that sounds totally normal, when you put it that way," she says, and then grins. "Y'know, you keep talkin' like that, Candy Man, I might start thinkin' you're kinda weird."

Everett ducks his head down, finding something on the table, a crumb real or imagined to sweep off the table and the gesture to do so. "Aw, shoot. You ain't been around town for very long, have you? We're all," he pauses, "well. Almost all weird here. It's like the place pulls us in like sinking into a lover; the way it feels when she's pulling you in. Subtle, warm. And deliciously wet." He pauses when the two beers arrive, overpaying with the money on the table and putting his nearly empty on the waitress' tray, "Thank you," he says to her with a stoic expression and returns his attention to his table. "Where was I? Oh yeah, you'll see just how weird it gets around here. It won't take you long, I think." He gives a glance around, and smirks softly to himself.

"Been in town about a week. Just gettin' settled in. Or I thought I was, anyway, until now it turns out the place is... what'd you say? Sinking into us like a lover?" Eden laughs, and it's clear that she's treating the conversation as a good time more than an ominous warning. "This like in all those horror movies where you're the guy at the gas station, tellin' me that actually, no, you shouldn't be fuckin' around at the haunted summer camp?"

Good; he's doing it right.
It means later on he gets to say 'I told you so.'

The sheepish look on his face lasts only a moment, especially with the shrug that follows, his big paws out defensively. "I'm not going to tell you to get out, or that there are monsters in the dark corners of the room." Green eyes dart that way, just to check, and return to her, "I'm just saying, as far as weird goes, I'm pretty low-key weird." He collects his new beer and tilts the neck towards her, holding it for a click from hers. He bought two after all, and if Kass remembers his tastes, I hope Eden likes light beer. "Welcome to Gray Harbor, either way. We might be weird, but by and large, we help one another." That's on the sign in, right?

Eden does indeed clink beers with Everett -- she's not so busy scoffing at the notion of weirdness that she can't appreciate his hospitality. "Cheers," she says, and has a drink. "A regular Eerie, Indiana," she teases through a bright smile, and then has another sip. "Seeing a place is 'low-key weird' just kinda seems like keepin' your eyes open, to me, but maybe I've just been surrounded by so much weird my whole life that I don't actually know from normal. But I appreciate the heads-up all the same, Candy Man, and the beer on top of it. Real gentleman hours."

"I dunno if the PLACE is low key weird," emphasizes Everett, the gorilla shrugging a shoulder. "I just mean in-so-far as this place is, /I/ am low-key weird. Weird?" he shows off his knuckle tattoos by way of wiggling his fingers, "sure. But these place is a lot more weird than I am." He lifts his beer but pauses to add, "And you'll see, it won't take long." He mumbles a cheers post swallow. "What's that? Eerie, Indiana a real place? Eeeh, don't worry about it. The warning or the beer. Either I like you, I've had one too many, or I'm giving the little woman enough time to get worried that I'm not spending the night with her again to see if she'll text me something dirty." This time, this time he grins pearly whites. Then he gestures and looks down to her left hand, "So, husband, or? What do they do?"

Eden just laughs. "It was a TV show. About a kinda low-key weird town. Full of kinda low-key weird people." She sits up a bit straighter, which next to the hulking Everett just looks a little silly -- the only way her height comes close to his, sitting down, is because of her brown and blonde-highlighted afro. "I'm just gonna pretend you like me, instead of the really, really specific third thing you said. And... Wife. You might'a seen her when you were comin' in. Standin' behind the bouncer checkin' the IDs. She stands out. Tall, blonde, badge..."

Letting her finish first, Everett's spine stiffens before he glances towards the entrance, or exit depending on your point of view. His demeanor changes, mostly because he has the poker face of a comatose platypus. He's still looking in that direction when he takes a long pull from his beer. "Ehurm," it's a weird sound after the gulp of air he takes following the gulp of booze, "I just remembered, I left a hot redhead getting moist in the bedroom." Putting his beer down, he shuffles the cash into his right hand. It's a practiced move to try to push it into his pants, but he's not wearing pants. So after sliding his hand down his thigh twice, Everett pushes his hand into his hoodie pocket while standing. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Brown Sugar," he takes a couple of steps, adding, "And thanks for the tips. If there's a next time: thong." There's a brief glance to see if there's a back way out, probably even is, but Everett braves the front never the less. Ugh, cops.

Eden takes it in stride -- this can't be the first time her wife's work has made socializing awkward. "Eden. And yeah, I know what I'll have on, but what about you?" She lifts her bottle towards Everett. "Thanks again for the beer. You drive safe. I don't care how moist she is." She grins, and waggles her fingers in a little 'bye-bye' motion.