2020-11-21 - All That Jazz

Cristobal is in a casual lean against the bar, standing instead of occupying a stool. While Show Tunes aren't exactly his thing, the proprietor of the establishment most assuredly is, and so it's on Dante's behalf that he's here and dressed slightly better than Vato. Wearing black jeans that are a little snug, a white untucked button down and a rather paisley blazer with contrasting fabric on the turned up cuffs and lapel. The swizzle stick that was used to skewer olives is now clamped between his teeth, occassionally moving from one corner of his mouth to the other with an unseen flick of his tongue.

Kailey has taken the time to dress up for this. Of course this girl loves show tunes. Tonight she is dresses in a purple evening gown that shimmers slightly as she moves. The choker collar leaves her arms bare but for the elbow length black satin gloves she wears. Her hair is pulled back and up into two wrapped buns. The rest of her hair, about three inches, is left to tuft out in pink fashion. There is something familiar to her look that anime fans might recognize. But currently she is standing in front of one of the windows and staring at the art in awe. Sipping a strawberry daquiri. Non-alcoholic because she doesn't need that on top of the haze. Which has hit her hard in a couple ways, staring hard for hours at a thing being one of them.

Sing-along anything may not necessarily strike one as precisely Vyv's 'thing', and certainly he's never been spotted at any of the karaoke nights around town. As yet, anyway. Still, he has been spotted at both Sitka and Eight-Eight now and then, and here he is. He'd likely be appropriate for the place even without an expected dress code, in one of his myriad expensive and flawlessly tailored suits; this one's a three piece pinstripe in a warm grey, with a mauve shirt, claret paisley tie, and a polkadotted claret pocket square blooming from the jacket pocket. His oxblood monkstraps are currently hidden beneath the table in the booth he's seated at, settled in an elegantly comfortable lean and a few sips into a martini. Whether or not it's necessary could be a question; he looks a fair bit more relaxed than his general mien at present. That's even recognizably a smile Grant's getting just now, even if it's still on the small side. So far.

The (acting) Chief of Police is not an infrequent patron of the Casino these days, since Thatchery's death. There are relationships to maintain, after all, however tenuously, and new ones to forge. And while he doesn't have the old Chief's affinity for glossy smiles and politicking, the snarly Mexican is perhaps his own acquired taste.

Tonight, he's in a tailored three piece Armani suit. Drycleaned, since it wound up getting spattered with blood and goo in that weird ass Dream a few nights ago. He's waiting for his drink at the bar, and hooking a finger in the knot of his tie to try to loosen it, watch checked a beat later. The guy's late, of course. His dark eyes slide over a few of the other patrons here tonight, linger on a face or two that he recognises; Crotchbiter over there gets a glimmer of a smirk, and Vyv the slightest nod. Cris is simply watched for a second or two, and then turned away from as his tequila arrives. A murmured gracias as he reaches over to take the glass with inked fingers.

There's a smattering of applause as a few people recognize the man of the hour as he crosses from a back office door, across Sitka towards Eighty-Eight. Dante Taylor wears black trousers with a slight sheen and a black waistcoat. The star of the outfit is an immaculately tailored indigo velvet blazer with black lapels. It's the kind of suit jacket that would be tacky or too loud on someone else, but he makes it work. That, and the slightly holographic gunmetal wingtips. His hair is coiffed into its immaculate volume, but he's sporting a beard with a fair bit of gray instead of his usual shaven face. A close eye might even spot a little silver at his temples.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he says once he reaches the piano and the microphone. "I do hope you're ready for a gay old time. I'll leave it up to you whether I mean that in the modern or archaic way. Or perhaps both. Ah, thank you darling." One of his staff in a saloon girl outfit brings him a drink. He winks at Cris before sitting down at the piano. "I think you'll find that you know more of tonight's selections than you imagine." He starts to play. It starts off on a high note - with All That Jazz from Chicago. If anyone can get the sultry notes, it's him.

Grant apparently owns a suit now. It even fits like it likes him. Clearly he lost a bet and Vyv won. It's a slate with plum shirt that matches his hair, slate tie and he can't even begin to name what all the pieces are but they're snazzy. We knows whose fault that is. Everyone's stoned and Grant is riding that mellow still now. He lost his job, temporarily due to this mess, but this is a pretty great pick-me-up. Kicking back in the booth with Vyv he watches with that absolute fascination in the world around him. "Kaaaaaailey, sup girl?" Fingers flutter off his drink to her and he signs <<'I paint with her sometimes. She's cool- Kailey.'>> He catches the smirk from the Chief and he waves him over. Oh god everyone's his buddy. Be prepared.

The glance from Ruiz merely gets a wry quick of Cristobal's lips, a cocky thing even if the glimmer in his eyes doesn't completely match the expression. His eyes don't linger on the Chief long, because there is other eye candy afoot and most importantly the Piano Man in his snazzy shoes and bouncer-favored facial hair. The wink makes his tongue appear on the length of the swizzle stick, a flash of teeth before he chomps back down on the plastic.

Kailey turns her head as Dante makes his appearance. She moves slowly over to slide into a seat at the bar. Where she can easily see the performance. But her stride pauses and she turns towards Grant as he greets her. A smile curves her lips as she recognizes him in that slow stoned way a lot of people have right now. As she heads their way she begins to dance to the music. Apparently she has seen Chicago and remembers some of the moves. She might have memorized them when she had hours alone in a hotel room with her collection of showtune dvds. Softly she hums along with the lyrics, not actually singing as she forgets some of the words. And that would just be rude. But she can dance her way over to that booth.

Settling in with his drink, Ruiz seems to resign himself to the fact that he's here for a show. A gay old show, as a matter of fact, since his contact's ditched him, and leaving now would be pretty fucking obvious. His gaze tracks Dante as he steps up to the piano, sits down and begins to play. Then scans over the various other people filtering in; the girl in the violet dress, Grant waving him over. He scratches at his nose with the backs of his knuckles, downs a good quantity of tequila in one slug, then pushes to his feet and starts prowling over. Whatever it is in the air, he tries to shrug it off.

Vyv idly observes the other denizens of the place from his chosen spot, the general look no less appraising than usual. Hard to tell if the verdicts are affected at all; there's a momentary extra linger of the look on the very shiny shoes as they arrives o the scene. Ruiz gets a faint nod in return for his own, and Kailey a somewhat more direct inspection when Bax points her out specifically. «I see you share taste in hair,» he signs back to the skater, expression quietly amused, and he inclines his head in the woman's general direction in a silent greeting. Is there humming? There might be some quiet humming sneaking out. That feeling of gradually intensifying high isn't yet too strange for the last week or so; the level's seemed to vary, and now doesn't seem too bad for timing if it wants to ramp back up.

Dante is quite competent on the piano and this seems to be a song he knows well. He also gets a little falsetto in his voice, a little growl, a little sultriness. "Start the car, I know a whoopee spot. Where the gin is cold and the piano's hot. It's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl and all..." a run on the piano, "That..." tinkle, "Jazz."

The pianist shakes his head and tries to shake away the fuzzy feeling with a swig of his drink. But it only grows more intense. He rolls his shoulders as his skin begins to rise with gooseflesh.

Cris would swear up and down that he never seen the movie or the musical Chicago, much less know the lyrics to the song that Dante is expertly working his way through with pizazz. But as the end of the song comes, and there are those dramatic notes with pauses in between, his hips do little tick tock in time to the lyrics. And are those Jazz Hands subtly being down down by his hip? They may. Just. Be.

Kailey sways to fall into the booth that Grant and Vyv are sharing with a giggle. "Oooo...I got a dizzy," She says with a grin, setting her daquiri on the table. <You like my hair?> She signs to them both with a smug little gleam in her green eyes.

Grant is bopping there in his seat with an easy grin warming for old acquaintance, "I love this one." Looking back to Vyv "Baby you know this one? Catherine killed it." Does he know this one? Ya know, he does. "I love a musical with a bodycount." His hand goes up to keep Kailey from falling over ot into the drinks and then the clothes which barely don't have a price tag still attached. "Vyv, why don't we do this more often?" Can he dance where he sits? Yup. He can sign the whole song with panache to his own delight. "How you been? How's the kiddo?"

Eventually making his way over to the booth containing Grant and Vyv, and now the purple-haired Kailey, Ruiz drops into the nearest available seat with a grunt of greeting. It seems he's taking Grant's waving him over as an invitation to sit. Because doesn't everyone want the po-po invading their downtime? "Hola," he murmurs right before his glass is tipped toward his mouth for a swallow of tequila.

Vyv does, in fact, know this one, yep. "Movie wasn't half bad," he agrees, with a small nod to Bax, and the little smile from before increases a step at the younger man's enthusiasm for the music, seat-dancing and all. The look he gives Kailey as she sits comes with a lazy roll of the head, maybe with some fellow-feeling for the dizziness. "Careful," he advises, adding in sign, «I appreciate a well-done colouring, yes.» A movement of his hand that isn't a sign is probably an indicator toward Grant's hair, which is both recently and very well dyed. Example! "I'm fairly sure we haven't done this more often because it hasn't happened before," he answers that question, though he doesn't sound nearly as certain about it as usual. "But if it happens more often, we could do it more often..." And then, a Ruiz. "Buenas tardes," he replies to the man without seeming to have thought about it, and takes a sip of his martini. This might be unwise, given the fact that his head is already starting to feel as though it might consider floating away fairly soon.

Dante starts to lose his concentration, but it doesn't seem to matter. The music flows from some unseen source. He stands from behind the piano. The music continues as if he's still playing. He moves towards Cristobal with a predatory look in his eyes. Even though he's no longer miced, his voice carries as if it is. "Slick your hair and wear your buckle shoes..." he slides a hand up over the other man's hair, then grabs him by the waist and moves him into a half-dip dance move. "And all that jazz." He spins him out. "I hear that Father Dip is gonna blow the blues." Hips, hips. "And all that jazz."

One instant Cristobal looks sorely cross at Dante when he's pulled into a dip, but by the time he's spun out from that little move, he suddenly has a trumpet in his hands, emphasizing the lyrics with a deep warble on the instrument that seems directed straight to Grant like he's inviting him into the jam session.

Kailey stares at Vyv for a long moment with wide eyes. "Dude, you got a crazy cute smile!" She tells him. "How come you don't smile more? Like...wow man," She says before taking a sip of her drink. As Ruiz slides into the booth she smiles at him. "Hello copper, how ya doin'?" She asks before eyeing the floor. There is a hungry air to that gaze and she is sliding towards getting up again. "I've been...decent? Busy. And Morganna is fine. I'll show you pictures. But right now? Wanna dance?" And she holds out a hand to Grant with a grin. Did her skirt just get a lot shorter with a lot more 'flap' and darker? Was she wearing fingerless gloves? She is now.

Not everyone does which is why Grant is going to try to hide Ruiz from the cops more than likely! He does translate for Kailey, "He says we're hair twins." This highly amuses him. Does he see you Cris? Yes. Is he still dancing in his seat swaying and purposely nudging Vyv's shoulder to make him wobble too? Absolutely. "Fuck yes I do. Veeee, Lobo, c'mon. his is too good to sit still." He signs to Vyv, <<I think they take our card away if we don't dance to at least one,V>>.

Oh, it's mighty tempting to join in. The music, the bodies moving to the tempo; Javier's fingers are already drumming on the tabletop as if by their own accord. Like he knows the song, and he very much does not. Head pounding, feeling suddenly flush, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and slings it over the back of the booth, leaving him in waistcoat, shirtsleeves and pants. "There's something wrong here," he tells Kailey quietly, when she asks him how he's doing. Just that, and he starts unbuttoning the cuff at each sleeve, and turning it up to his elbow. Grant gets a sidelong look, but he's not yet getting up to dance, no matter how much he's clearly itching to.

For a moment, Vyv doesn't look 100% sure what to do with the compliment to his smile; it gets mostly hidden (surely coincidentally) behind the glass for a sip, but most of it still remains afterward. "Scarcity value?" he suggests lightly and most likely inaccurately, before adding, "Thank you." It's still a smallish smile, even after getting nudged, though genuine and more than any but one person present's seen before. He nudges back, setting the glass down, and quirks a brow at Kailey, either for the invitation or the sudden change to her outfit. Either way, it's not enough to outweigh the feeling of the music and such right now, and he rises to his feet at Bax's remarks. "Well. We certainly can't risk being cardless."

"Pffft. Nothing wrong with dancing unless you're afraid too. Dance like no one is watching, copper!" Kailey says all blaise as she slides from the booth. That dress turned Jazz flapper easily and luckily she still looks good. Black nylons and heels, thankfully short, and it all just looks right. As Grant slides out of the booth she grins and claps her hands giddily. "Yeah, come on Vyv! Dance with us," Ruiz is being a party-pooper and thus not invited. He even gets a playful little raspberry before she twirls in a flare of skirt and starts joining the dancing throng.

Dante definitely had a shirt on under the jacket before. But somehow now when he shrugs off the blue suede jacket, he's just wearing the waistcoat. The pants might have gotten tighter too. And where the hell did that stage come from? And his staff definitely weren't dressed in black 20s-esque costumes before. The song continues, along with some epic choreography that would put the professional versions to shame. And where the hell did that spotlight come from? "Nooo, I've got no wife. Nooo, I love my life. And all...that..." and then he nails that last note better than he could in reality, "...jaaaaaazzz."

As one song fades into the next, Cristobal suddenly spins out a chair from one of the tables. As he steps up on it, suddenly a spotlight from an unknown source shines directly at him with that introduction. The trumpet in his hand is tapped against his palm like a police baton as he calls out to the crowd. "And now, the six married murderers of the Gray Harbor Jail in their rendition of the cell block tangoooo."

A chorus starts from the shadows of, "Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!" Chanted four times before Cris is slapping his hands on the table in front of Ruiz while the tango beat starts. "He had it coming. He had it coming. He only had himself to blame..."

One minute, Ruiz is a lazy, indolent thing half slouched in his booth. One tattooed arm slung over the padded seat back, glass held loose in his other hand. Dark eyes on the grouping of familiar and semi-familiar faces as they one by one get up to dance.

And then the next, that spotlight's on Cris, that song's on his lips, and when the other Mexican slaps his hands onto the table it's like a spell's cast on the captain. He nudges his drink away with the tips of his fingers, narrows his eyes, and pushes to his feet slowly. And follows close on Cris's heels with a low, dangerous rumble of sound that's far more on key than he'd ever normally manage, "Qué estoy buscando, estoy aquí? Se dice que es famoso. Pero no es verdad, soy inocente."

The shadows begin chanting again, a little louder this time, more voices joining in as the be-waistcoated Mexican sidles in closer to Cris: "Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!"

Kailey drums her nails across the bars that slid from somewhere in front of her. And as the song continues she reaches up and pulls her hair free of the buns. It shouldn't be that simple, but here it is. The buns fall away into rippling curls of pink and purple. The dress stays mostly the same though her nylons become fishnets. As the names are called out she adds her voice, "Six," To the line. "He had it coming, he had it coming. He only had himself to blame," Her contra-alto lends itself well to the harmony of the 'Girls' singing together. "If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it. I betcha you would have done the same!"

As a phantom Liz goes through her routine about Bennie she watches and adds to the chorus once more. Hanging on the bars and posing. When they slide away and she comes out to dance with another phantom, she is totally into it. Lost in the part, as it were. The phantom has an eerie resemblance to a tall biker known about town. But well dressed with that black hair cut to shoulder length. "I met Ezekiel Young from Salt Lake City about two years ago and he told me he was single and we hit it off right away. So, we started living together. He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd mix him a drink, we'd have dinner. It was like heaven in two and a half rooms," She speaks but fluidly and with a rumbling melody in her voice.

The two dance and twine very intimately across the 'stage'. "And then I found out, single he told me? Single my ass! Not only was he married, oh no! he had six wives; one of those Mormons, you know?" She strokes a cheek and then slaps it and turns away to a sudden table and caraffe with glasses. Pouring a drink and then whirling around to present it. It's all very well done. She doesn't even struggle to drag the phantom off into the dark by his ankles.

Grant takes a deep breath and languishes a moment as the spotlight pops up on him and his fingers knit in casual body language talking about a fond memory after too many drinks, "Oy gevalt, Aaaaaaalvin Lipschitz- Goddamn I loved him more than... well I can say. Another artist, sensitive, a fellow painter." He picks his ass up to of the seat with that wistful memory, "But he was troubled. He was always trying to “find himself”. He'd go out every night looking for himself, and along the way, he found…Ronnie, Garrett, Ross and Irene." His jaw shifts and having no poker face looks entirely legit pissed, hand hanging there almost starting another line and too irate in disbelief to do so. Fingers clench into a fist with a bitter smile, "I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences. He saw himself as alive...I disagreed." OH there's trumpets and fanfare. Yeah he knows the dance but clubbing enough also does this . He gives Kailey a spin around and joins her and Ruiz in the choreography. When did they fucking rehearse this!!?? Is this a gum commercial!?

There is a feral split of his lips as Ruiz stands up from the table and prowls forward, Cristobal taking sliding steps back to counter him. His arms bow out like a toreador facing off against an angry bull, his trumpet extended in a 'come at me' move as he's sans a cape. Then when Ruiz' verse is done with a proclamation of being innocent, he spins in an unspoken, 'ole!' and dances to the beat around Kailey as she poisons her polygamous husband and Grant slays his cheating painter.

"So, I came home this one day and I'm really irritated, looking for a little sympathy..." He steps in close behind Dante, his nose nuzzling the back of the man's neck with the continuing lyrics. "And there he was, lying on the couch, drinking a beer and chewing. No, not chewing. POPPING..." The trumpet becomes the imagined shotgun he takes off the wall, "So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots. Into. His. Head." And an imitated BANG BANG are given straight at Vyv.

Whatever's causing it, it's working well. Vyv's voice blends perfectly well with the others into the choruses, and the choreography -- surely not intended for suits, and yet, it seems to somehow fit all the same. He finds himself stepping forward, into a kitchen that doesn't exist, but can almost be seen as he moves within it, explaining how he'd been innocently cooking dinner when his husband burst in, in a jealous rage.

Vyv stalks around the invisble center island in counterpoint to one of those near-phantom dancers, as though slowly but inexorably pursued, tone wavering somewhere between wounded and furious as he relates the accusation, "You've been screwing the milkman?!" It sounds... different than one might recall it, in his accent, but there's something about that crisp precision that couldn't be sharper or more evocative as he explains, with a negligent gesture that seems to almost draw the shine of an arc of steel through the air, "...and then he ran into my knife!" What could he possibly have done to prevent this? There's an upward turn to one corner of his lips, equally sharp, and this time it's innocence and smugness that tone lurks between: "He ran into my knife ten times." A surprisingly good kick and turn, then, buoyed by the Something in the air, arms out like a spray of blood as he slinks back into the chorus line, all agreeing that if you'd've been there, you would most certainly have done the same.

It's right about now, in the rational part of Dante's mind, beneath the green haze and the power of the Dream that he wishes he'd opened the evening with a song from a less violent musical. Maybe some cheerful romantic farce, or Oklahoma or something. Because now he finds himself sweaty, in the spotlight, and still channeling Velma Kelly. He recites the monologue, with Cris in the place of Charlie. He's got more...hips and sass than normal, and less upright (if peacocky) Brit.

"I come back, open the door and there's Veronica and Charlie. Doing number seventeen, the spread eagle." He grabs Cris' face and stares him down. And then his voice turns suddenly innocent, sweet, but not before that sharky smile flits across his lips. "Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out. I can't remember a thing, it wasn't until later when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead!" He flicks his hands, and then leads the whole company in another iteration of the chorus with plenty of stomping.

Surely they had it coming."

Cris's taunt is met with a snarl from de la Vega, dark eyes tracking the other Latino for a few beats before he's stalking after Grant. A slow circle's prowled around the younger man, his voice a low, velvety rumble: "No sé por qué el tío Sam dice que lo hice, lo intenté." Then he swoops in, slides a big arm around Kailey's waist, and attempts to haul her in somewhat improprietously close to him so he can murmur in her ear with a scrape of beard and scent of cigarette smoke, "Para explicar a la policía, pero no entendieron." Before shoving her away again, letting her stumble as she will.

Did Cristobal know that he could do the Charleston? No, no he did not. And there may have been one point in the song and dance where he and Ruiz both 'reached for the gun' in pantomime while someone else was playing the part of the Roxy marionette. When the music fades and the velvet curtains slither away into the green tinted ether, Cristobal is flopped back into a chair, sans jacket with a few buttons undone down his tattooed chest so the edge of his sacred heart ink shows in brilliant red and gold burning towards his sternum. "Wooo. What...the actual fuck, mia luz." He asks of Dante, as if the man might have the answer, though he doesn't actually look upset. Just spent.

Kailey doesn't sit down or resist the dance call. She sways as Ruiz and Cris play tug-of-war and there may be suppressed giggles when she isn't singing. Her hair is down and swirling around her. She runs through Chicago numbers and then played Red Riding Hood from Into the Woods. And boy does she know things know. Many valuable things. Like choreography is -hard- even when you got magical green high telling you how. And that she -really- enjoys tap dancing.

The rendition of Master of the House with the others is quite a sight and thrilling. Her clothes turning into French revolutionary middle class. To her credit she does not collapse before all the numbers are done. Though she is sweaty and breathing hard. She does slump back into the booth where her daquiri sits. Picking it up and drinking from the mostly melted strawberry beverage. Breathing heavily she kind of flicks her gaze from person to person. Finally, "Duuuuudes!"

Grant is prowled and looks for his part concerned as he ought; the other guy in over his head. WHOOPS! Later his ability to pop and lock serves up well enough while Chris gives hem the ol Razzle Dazzle, and actually can do a pretty damn heartbreaking Mr. Cellophane as it turns out. Looking like a kicked puppy that tried to trust someone and lost seems to be right in the earnest painter's wheelhouse. Like, but whyyyyyy? seems to be the question there and Aww dammit. Only he signed it all and sang only the highlights in the chorus. The messages in sign and pantomime speaking for themselves. Do the parts make sense?

Does anything in Gray Harbor make any sense?
No but it's fun and while half the room is spent the skater is kinda...winded and wired. Staggering over to Vyv he snickers "Hey, don't stab me." Hands grab his fave fleetingly, but long enough to lift up on his toes, smooch him and pat him on the shoulder. "You did great, bubbeleh. Drink water." Looking back to Chris and Ruiz there's a sign and it occurs to him they are bilingual espanol and not ASL. "Where you learn that and did I mentally check out in rehearsal?"

Vyv remains in the background of a good portion of what's going on, fitting into the chorus, though at one point he does end up informing the world that he doesn't care about expensive things -- cashmere coats, or diamond rings -- all he cares about is love. There's much choreographed swooning amongst the back-up for that one, before he eases back into the supporting roles himself. He doesn't have Grant's raw talent, but the Dream does a good job with it and he does manage to make it all look fairly elegant. Even the return of Grant's kiss is that, though he looks a tiny bit lost as things get back to... not exactly normal, but closer than it was in there.

"Then don't accuse me of cheating with the milkman," he retorts to Bax with amusement, though there's a bit of confusion too as he looks around and slips back into the booth and his seat, where the martini has kindly awaited his return. It's not water, but it's clear/ish/, and he does intend to drink it. "I'm not quite sure what just happened there," he murmurs, "...except Gray Harbor."

It's too bad there was no real audience for this sudden cast, as their performance of Chicago was quite good, thanks to whatever the hell the Dream is. He pulls out one more powerhouse performance before it ends - namely a rather well-timed comedic version of 'I Can't Do it Alone.' Except, in his accent, it's 'cahn't.'

Dante ends up collapsing on the piano bench next to Cris. Suddenly the velvet jacket he finds himself back in is oppressive and he shrugs it off. "I haven't a bloody clue," he says a bit breathlessly. He looks around the room and rubs his forehead. "Is everyone all right? Ah, Angela, water for everyone, please." He rolls his shoulders back. "Was that all the Dream or are you all secretly Broadway superstars? If so I might have an idea to that could make us all a lot of money." A thou a week at least.

Kailey ponders copping to almost always landing lead in the high school drama shows. "Broadway no," She finally says having caught her breath. "Nothing like -that- for sure." Though those who have heard her sing at Karaoke know she can sing well. "Water sounds wonderful. Could I get some orange slices too, please?" She turns to smile at Grant and Vyv as they come back to the booth too. "You know...I always used to dream about how much better the world would be if people just randomly broke out into song and dance about a thing. Now I know it would be."

Cristobal grins widely at Dante still playing host in the wake of it all, his face turning down into the man's shoulder as he cushions his cheek briefly there. "I guess we all just got hit with a little bit of the the Razzle Dazzle." Which might just be a name for one of the weed strains of the Dispensary that burned down. For some reason that's hilarious to him, as he stifles a chuckle against Dante's shirt that ends in a loose jawed bite. "I think I'm going to go sprawl out in your office and cool down."

Grant looks around and then to Cris to check on him. "Evenryone got their Englishman they came with? Yeah? Good... good..." Looking to Kailey he shakes his head. "I want... well shit it's still burned down. I wonder if we can get the theatre do do like a sing-along musical night. That'd be kinda bitchin. " Looking back to Dante he points, "Or hell, you can do it. That was... I think there's enough weed in Gray Harbor to do that ...again. Chief, you in?" Looking back to Vyv his expression sloooooowly widens even if his vision swims a bit, "I gotta let you pick date night more often. This is fun. You got up there and everything."

Kailey gets water and orange slices. The former she gulps down half the glass before gasping. "Oh yeah...that's good..." And picks up and orange slice to eat. There's a good half dozen on the plate and she shoves it at Vyv and Grant. <You can dance well!> She signs to the two of them. "I...I would actually love to do something like that. Maybe a dinner theater thing?"

"No, I'm fairly sure that was entirely a hallucination," Vyv claims as to his being up there and everything, which is not wholly convincing, particularly as he glances aside while making the assertion. He's a much better liar than that! At least when not spending this much time stoned. A good sign he still is would be the silent but existent gig-- uh, chuckle, when Grant checks on the disposition of Englishmen people arrived with. "In any case it's always a good idea to let me pick date night." He accepts an orange slice, settling back into something approaching his usual dignity, sort of. No comment on future potential for song and dance... but really, in this town, you never know.

"I think I'll join you," says Dante to Cris, rather breathlessly. For the dancing, not for other reasons. His staff looks a little shaken too, as the ones who Glimmer just spent the last few hours as extras and backup dancers too. But they're trying to shake it off. "Get these folks a drink on the house. And then, em, take tomorrow off, all right?" And then he's smiling a bit awkwardly to them all. "That wasn't the evening you all came for, but at least it was entertaining and without peril?" Small mercies. "Good evening to you all. And...maybe a hot shower? I have a feeling we'll all be sore tomorrow."

Kailey says, "For one the dining will be top notch," Kailey inserts into the couples conversation. "And Vyv, you should not be embarassed for singing and dancing like that. It was epic! Own it, dude." She finishes off her water and another orange slice. "We should totally do a dinner theater. Take scenes from all different plays. Do a Shakespear night and a Weber night and a Hammerstein night and...yeah man. Epic." She starts to nibble on her orange."

Grant unbuttons the coat and slouches. "Right, Kailey?" The rest is signed not elaborately remembering at one point she was familiar and doesn't throw her in the deep end. <<He's so shy. Vyv? Excellent dancing! Shy why??!>>. Rolling a look to him. "Tonight, we dine like rockstars. See? She even said you were a badass. I'm so fuckin proud of you for joining us. And... ya know i appreciate the commitment to the act almost as much as I appreciate Chief Lobo not actually shooting anyone. Warms my heart."

"Mn." Vyv finishes off the martini, setting it down on the table. "I'm not embarrassed." So there. A bit louder, he replies to Dante, "Entertaining and without peril is high on the list of evening descriptions. Good night." The earlier smile is trying to sneak back out when he looks back to the others, even if there's a perfectly normal (for him) dryness to, "I'm sure we all appreciate his restraint tonight, yes. But dining sounds like a good idea in general..." There are many side effects to the last week or so. Maybe the impromptu musical theatre will head off the need for diets next week.

Kailey has been working hard on her ASL and it shows by her expanded vocabulary and grammar. Though her hands are not as fast as someone fluent. "There -is- a restaurant right over there...Hey, can we get menus please?" She calls to a server as they pass. Then she turns her attention back to Vyv. "I'm pretty sure I lost fifteen pounds doing all those numbers. Probably going to gain it all back ordering appetizers..."