2021-02-05 - The Poorhouse Returns: Karaoke

Eleanor steps into the Pourhouse. She hasn't been here very often, but karaoke means Itzhak will perform, and possibly her husband as well, so she's here as their cheering section. The coffee shop owner is smiling as she finds a place to sit and wait for August to arrive, having come straight from Espresso Yourself. She's in jeans and a warm cream-colored sweater with boots, her hair in a loose braid over one shoulder.

With Davis slated for running karaoke, Leon had figured to fill in the spot left by the man behind the bar, just... giving his wife a wide berth, as two many cooks... Well, ok, she didn't cook, too many bartenders behind the bar was sometimes just too crowded. He floats, delivering drinks and food, glad-handing regulars, and generally playing good host. He'd broken out a staple Pacific Northwest staple, wearing a blue and black flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up and left open to see the gray tank beneath, some jeans, and his typical Red Wings falling heavy as he walks.

Tor might already be drunk. Or maybe high. Or both? Hard to tell. His scruffy hair is tied back in...well, it's in the man bun position but there isn't enough hair to bun. The v-neck hether gray t-shirt looks too big for him and keeps drooping off one shoulder. It's either slovenly or a look. Or a slovenly look? The jeans are pretty tight though, and he's wearing a necklack with random beads on a leather thong and conch shells. His nails are also painted black and he's got random goth-y rings on his finger. He's currently peeling the label off his beer and is either in thought or just staring into the middle distance because of substances.

Park arrives in her usual bouncy, excited way. It's been too long since she warbled someone else's song so she made sure that there was time in her hectic schedule to attend. DJing at the strip club will have to wait. She makes her way quickly to Davis.

"Hey, hello, how are you? Cold outside, isn't it. I think my brass monkey has been rendered inoperable. Probably shouldn't be wearing tights and a short skirt I guess" she giggles at a hundred miles an hour. "I'd like to sing please. I'm Mee Park, or Park Mee, I don't mind, people use both. Well, of course they use both because they're both my name, but I mean that you can say them in either order. Or use either one to identify me. What happened to the other guy? Not that I mind, you're probably awesome. Great introduction." She informs him of the song she would like to sing before bouncing off to find a table.

August arrives a bit after Eleanor, still in work clothes (denim jeans, heavy hikers, gray waffle Henley, plaid flannel in blue, black, and green, black leather jacket) but at least having bothered to brush his hair and such. It's easier to look clean in the winter, what with there being a lot less actual plant work to do. The previous week was a rough one, and he's only now getting to a better place. Still, an air of emotional exhaustion lingers, even as he's putting on his best public face.

He wanders over to Davis at the laptop to sign up, then joins Eleanor. "Hey you," he says, leaning in to give her a kiss. "What can I grab you from the bar."

Scott enters, grinning as he looks around. "Ah, always fun," he says, to nobody in particular, before making his way further into the room. Grinning as he sees Park making her way over to join in the singing, he steps over to sign up as well, smiling widely as he does, before he starts making his way over to get himself something to drink.

Cecil steps in, and he's in jeans and a v-neck pullover, with a padded flannel shirt on over it. He comes here sometimes when he wants a quiet drink, like now. He steps in, and he sees the karaoke machine. At first, his face falls, but then he squares his shoulders, gives it the ol' stiff upper lip, and makes his way toward the bar.

Eleanor returns August's kiss with a grin. She's doing her best not to look overly concerned about him and Itzhak and the holes they had in them last week. "I would love a White Russian if they make them here," she murmurs. "A Manhattan otherwise. Itzhak coming?"

Tor slides off his stool, stumbles a bit, then walks towards Davis the karaoke host. Well, sort of drunkenly swaggers. He does manage to stand politely in line with the others who are waiting to sign up to sing. Not making a scene, or anything. All he does is sort of pick at the edges of the label of his beer.

Leon crosses his arms and watches, his face a screwed up grin of amusement at watching Davis have to deal with Park’s antics. The locksmith didn’t pity the man too badly, though. He turns to swap drinks for cash a little further down the bar, then sets himself up, both hands on the back edge of the bar, ready to take orders to the satellite customers. A concerned look is sent after Tor’s stumbling, but... well this was the Poorhouse. Leon just had to make sure he didn’t bust his head open before he left for the night.

From the bar, Leon has turn turn his face and cover his mouth inside his elbow not to burst into laughter.

August winces, uncertain. "Maybe," he says, of whether or not Itzhak will come. "He'll still in rough shape." Not that this has stopped him from doing literally anything ever, but it's possible the combined wills of de la Vega and Cavanaugh can keep him resting. Maybe.

"White Russian, or a Manhattan. Got it." He kisses the top of Eleanor's head, heads to the bar. A black and tan for himself, a White Russian for Eleanor (though it takes a second to confirm they have half-n-half), and some french fries to share. He returns with the drinks and settles in, glances around to see who else is there. "Looks like Park and Scott'll be singing--not sure who else."

Cecil smiles at Leon and says, "I'd like a pint of stout, please." He gives Tor some side-eye in concern, and August's familiar face gets a smile and a wave. "H'lo, Roen. Good to see you, mate." He's been in this town long enough that he doesn't even mention the shootout or how nice it is to be meeting under better circumstances. There are shootouts, sometimes you see your mates at them. "Are you singing tonight?"

Park managed to give Scott a wave, but not a hug, before she is being called up on stage. "Oh gosh, already!"

Bounding up to the mic she gives everyone a joyous wave. "Hello, everyone. Chilly night out. As our wonderful MC explained, I'm Park...or Mee. I'm also a member of an awesome band called 'Augmented Reality'. Check us out online. Gosh, February already. Where does the time go? So, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year for the time just past. "How do you get a squirrel to like you? Act like a nut" she grins. "Get it? Anyway, better get started or we'll be here all night." A nod to the laptop. "Maestro please. Oh, and this isn't about anyone in particular."

The music begins and she gets to singing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUYaosyR4bE

Oh he treats me with respect
He says he loves me all the time
He calls me fifteen times a day
He likes to make sure that I'm fine
You know I've never met a man
Who's made me feel quite so secure
He's not like all them other boys
They're all so dumb and immature

There's just one thing
That's getting in the way
When we go up to bed
You're just no good
Its such a shame
I look into your eyes
I want to get to know you
And then you make this noise
And its apparent it's all over

It's not fair
And I think you're really mean
I think you're really mean
I think you're really mean
Oh you're supposed to care
But you never make me scream
You never make me scream

Oh it's not fair
And it's really not okay
It's really not okay
It's really not okay
Oh you're supposed to care
But all you do is take
Yeah all you do is take

Oh I lie here in the wet patch
In the middle of the bed
I'm feeling pretty damn hard done by
I spent ages giving head
Then I remember all the nice things
That you've ever said to me
Maybe I'm just overreacting
Maybe you're the one for me

Park is enthusiastic in her singing, and she may even be decent at it since she's in a band. As it ends she gives the audience a curtsy. "Thanks everyone. Remember, it's not about anyone in particular. Get yourselves some drinks. Try the veal." And off she bounds once more, back to where Scott waits. "So much fun!"

Eleanor seems pleased that they were able to make the White Russian. She's got a sweet tooth tonight at the Kahlua drink fits the bill perfectly. She takes a sip and lets out a sigh. While August has been recovering from being in the middle of the frackas, Eleanor has been trying not to jump at every sound and shadow at her shop. The shootout spooked her. "I hope he's feeling better," she murmurs. "You gonna get up there?" she looks towards the stage at the announcement of the first singer and applauds.

August raises his glass to Cecil in a greeting, tells both him and Eleanor, "I am singing. You'll see what." He has a fry, bobs his eyebrows. ...and almost chokes on said fry when he starts listening to the lyrics Park is singing. He has to have some beer to clear his throat.

"Wow," he says, eyes watering.

After mixing and passing across drinks to August and Cecil, Leon had been in the midst of pulling a beer. Glass under the tap, hand on the handle, he hears the lyrics in Park’s... unique voice. Slowly his eyes roll toward the stage in just dumbstruck horror. The beer overflows, he swears, doing that overly-curved arm attempt not to spill sticky liquid all over himself and everything. He grabs a towel and dries off the bottom of the glass before handing it out to the poor (Get it?) patron that ordered it. He takes a moment to walk past Maggi and mutter, “We sure this was a good idea?”

Eleanor claps August on the back and she's snickering. "Well that is a song, for sure. Someone has surely done that gal wrong."

"They serve veal here?" Tor murmurs to no one in particular. He downs the rest of what's in his bottle and then tucks it on to an empty table that he subsequently leans against. To his credit, he doesn't go rushing to the bar for another. Not yet, anyway. He reaches up to ruffle a hand over his hair, then remembers it's pulled back so said hand drops to his side.

Waving back to Park, Scott grins. If there's a reaction to the lyrics, he doesn't show it at the moment, simply enjoying the listening. Applauding as the song finishes, before he grins as Park heads back down from the stage. "It's always fun," he replies, lightly, before he raises an eyebrow. "Not about anyone in particular?" he asks.

August has a bit more beer to clear his throat, gives Park a look squarely set between amused and consternated. He eases out of his seat, leans over to kiss Eleanor on the cheek before heading up to the make-shift stage. "Homegrown right here in the state of Washington," he assures Davis. "Accept no substitutes."

The song is easy to identify as it fires up; everyone's probably heard it on the radio, in a store, in a movie or TV show.

"How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me
Like the fella once said,
ain't that a kick in the head?

The room was completely black
I hugged her and she hugged back
Like the sailor said, quote,
'Ain't that a hole in the boat?'"

August's voice is a little deeper than Dean Martin's, and he's not a trained singer, though perhaps he's practiced in the shower some. At least it's not a difficult song, as they go.

"My head keeps spinning,
I go to sleep and keep grinning
If this is just the beginning
my life is gonna be beautiful

She's telling me we'll be wed
she's picked out a king-size bed
I couldn't feel any better or I'd be sick

Tell me quick, oh ain't love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain't love a kick
In the head!"

When he's done he half-bows towards Eleanor, sets the mic back down and hops off the stage.

Eleanor cheers for August and his choice of song has her mouthing the words along with him and looking over the moon. She's laughing happily and clapping by the end, standing to return his bow with a curtsey of her own, then raises her glass to him.

Cecil drinks his beer, and the singing is good enough he actually looks like he might be enjoying himself. He gives August a clap on the arm when he makes his way back and says, "Well done." He makes no move himself to go anywhere near the singup sheet. He'll just be here with his beer. Eleanor gets a friendly smile, being as she's Roen-adjacent.

"Of course it's not about anyone, silly" Park playfully punches Scott on the shoulder before someone else is going up on stage to sing. The same guy that gave her that funny look...and is always here. Park squeals out a loud cheer as the song begins. "Oh, I love Frank Sinatra" she gleefully informs Scott. "He was so good in those movies with Jerry Lewis." Applause and more cheering when August is done before it's her bandmate's turn. "Go for it!"

Eleanor waits for August to sit before she sidles up to sign up for a song. She's not a singer, but she can yowl along with popular karoke tunes that the whole crowd can join in on.

August rolls his eyes a little at his performance being referred to as 'art', maybe out of embarrassment. (Definitely.) Look, at least no one recorded it on their cellphone to post on FreindZone. Right? Right.

He retakes his seat, but before he can say anything Eleanor has gone to sign up in turn. (No promises it's not getting recorded on the cellphone.) He raises his glass to Cecil again. "Why thank you. Should get up there yourself, sing a little something. It ah," his mouth flattens, "helps. With, you know. Things like last week."

And because he realizes he doesn't want to discuss that, he watches Scott get up on stage, catches sight of Tor and considers him. Shine he does, but August isn't sure they've met, and it's clear from the look on his face.

Tor is the guy most people in town have 'met' in that he's been a serial delivery driver for Pizza Kitchen and Uber Eats and a general Uber driver for a few years now. He's the anonymous dude who shuffles from one place to the other. Except right now, he's clearly not driving. He isn't so wasted that he's ready to fall over, but he's definitely, as the song says, comfortably numb. He thumbs at his phone in a sort of sloppy way and keeps half an eye on the stage.

“Davis, there’s an off button, on the mic. Just... yaknow, advice.” Leon calls across the bar while making a signal with his hand like to show where he can hit to not broadcast his external internal commentary. He continues to serve drinks to some of the other patrons, though one such delivery includes a complimentary hairy eyeball as he notices the older patron making some sort of eyes at Park. He briefly swings past Davis and slides a post-it across to the man.

Cecil says to August, amiably, "Oh, God, no. No, I'll cherish the nightmares things like last week give me far, far, more than the nightmares I'll have after getting up on a stage and trying to sing." He takes a generous swallow of his pint. "People seeing me, listening to me, in a public place... brr." He shivers. "I'll need more than a pint to get up there." He glances Tor's way and, being a serial food-orderer, seems to recognize him.

"Nice, excellent song choice," Scott says, as he hears August's singing. "I've always liked that song." Nodding again as he hears Park's words,. "He was. All of those guys were great." He goes silent again as he hears his name called, and moving up to the stage. "Radio Ga Ga, by Queen," he gently corrects Davis, before he grins at the people in the room. "Might need some help from you all if you can clap your hands during the chorus, okay? Let's do this!" And as the music comes on, his smile widens, and he starts moving a little around on the stage.

"I'd sit alone and watch your light
My only friend through teenage nights
And everything I had to know
I heard it on my radio

You gave them all those old time stars
Through wars of worlds invaded by Mars
You made 'em laugh, you made 'em cry
You made us feel like we could fly

So don't become some background noise
A backdrop for the girls and boys
Who just don't know or just don't care
And just complain when you're not there

You had your time, you had the power
You've yet to have your finest hour
Radio"

As he gets to the chorus, he lifts his hands to clap along with the song, smiling as he looks through the room.

"All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah blah
Radio, what's new?
Radio, someone still loves you"

Singing through the second verse, he grins a bit as he looks to the people listening, grin widening as he comes to the chorus. "Come on, join in," he calls to the people, before he continues.

"All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga"

Taking a brief breath before he finishes it off with the "Radio, what's new? Someone still loves... you..."

Letting out a breath as the song finishes, he bows momentarily. "Thank you. Enjoy the rest of the evening." And back down he goes, after offering a grin to Davis.

Park was wondering if there was a Lady Gaga song she didn't know, but Scott is there to clear up the confusion. "Oh, I love this song" she squeals to anyone close by who can hear high frequency words. And she will definitely get in on the expected clapping. Even the fist pumping that goes with it. "Wasn't 'Bohemian Rhapsody' so good! So sad he died in the end. If Quentin Tarantino had directed it, they would have won."

August claps for Scott in the manner of someone who has no idea what this song is but approves of the performance none the less. He blinks, looks askance at Park when she mentions Queen...winning? He doesn't quite give her The Face. Not quite. Mostly because he's not sure if she's kidding.

He eyes Cecil, expression clearing. "There's an entire bar there, ready to enable you." He nods at the 'stage'. "Fame awaits." A bob of his eyebrows and a drink of beer.

Eleanor sits back with August and applauds for Scott, cheering for Tor as he takes the stage. She's lived here her whole life, she knows the pizza guy.

Tor is kind of zoned out, so he nearly misses his cue to go up. He definitely looks the part of a 90s grunger. That's his aesthetic. In fact, if one were to believe in reincarnation, he'd be a good case to be the spirit of someone from that era. He's definitely too young to have experienced it the first go-round.

And, well, given his current altered state, he can definitely be said to be channeling the spirit of the original vocalist. He moves up to the stage and grabs the mic. "Hey folks. If you think you recognize me, it's 'cause I bring your food when you're too fuckin' lazy to go out. Love you all. Tip your fuckin' delivery driver."

And then he starts to sing. You know the words. He's not an amazing vocalist, but hey, you don't need to be for this song. It's all about mastering the quiet, quiet, loud contrast and getting into it with your whole body, and he definitely does that part. He's not even looking at the lyrics as they go up on screen, which is, frankly, the sign of a good karaoke song choice. He is also, it seems, aware enough even in his altered state to pull back from the mic when he gets to the scream-y parts so the audio doesn't clip. He's run enough audio at TIBS karaoke to know that's a real danger.

When the song ends, he doesn't even pause for any kind of applause. He instead, makes a beeline for the bar, where he, surprisingly, asks for water.

Cecil applauds for Scott, setting his beer down to do so. "You mean infamy," he tells August. He finishes his beer, though, and he asks for another one. He might get tipsy enough to sing, or he might drink himself into a stupor. Which will happen first? Let the games begin! When Tor mentions being too fucking lazy to go out, he mentions, to no one in particular, "In my defense, I'm a terrible cook and have crippling social anxiety."

August lives down a gravel and dirt road Tor would no doubt refuse to drive on, or at least charge extra for, and so his experience with delivery is somewhat minimal. So it goes. (Though if Tor's ever left his windows partway down he's no doubt found himself in the possession of a bunch of zucchini or cucumber. Roll up your windows during zucchini season, folks!) He claps regardless, singing along; this is a song from his High School and Army years, after all. He shrugs at Cecil. "Fame, infamy--whatever."

Eyes narrowed playfully, he asides to Eleanor, "Not gonna tell me what you picked, are you."

Scott is unable to hold back a chuckle at Park's words. "I think it shows what someone once said in a film. That those who burn the brightest only burns half as long, or something." There's a brief pause before he adds, "One of the most interesting things about that band was how Brian May managed to get his PhD in Astrophysics after almost 40 years or so. That's quite awesome." He listens to Tor's singing, smiling. "Nice." Applauding as the man finishes.

Leon watches as Maggi takes care of Tor’s water order, grinning and sliding past behind his wife in pursuit of a bottle to mix another drink. He takes the time, though to give a simple, “Hell yes.” to the delivery driver. Short, complimentary, conveys the point. Also, he endorsed the staggering man to drink water. Less on the insurance premiums, definitely.

"Forty years? He mustn't be very smart then" Park replies about Brian May before enjoying the vocal stylings of Tor. "Wow, he could be like Kurt Cobain reincarnated. I hope he doesn't end up the same way. Not sure how anyone could get married to Courtney Love. We should probably warn him" she nods solemnly. And, of course, Tor will get enthusiastic applause afterwards, as will Eleanor before she sings. "Oh gosh, such a rude song to sing" she giggles.

The redhead bounces up to the stage with a grin. "Okay," Eleanor declares as she takes the mic in hand. "This one isn't just for me to sing. Every one of you better know the words to this, except maybe the pizza guy." Because Tor is still a fetus. Lol. She winks at August and waits for the track to start, waving at the audience to sing along with her as the backing track for a Backstreet Boys hit starts up.

"You are my fire
The one desire
Believe when I say
I want it that way

But we are two worlds apart
Can't reach to your heart
When you say
That I want it that way

Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
Tell me why
I never want to hear you say
I want it that way

Am I, your fire?
Your one, desire
Yes I know, it's too late
But I want it that way

Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
Tell me why,
I never want to hear you say
I want it that way

Now I can see that we've fallen apart
From the way that it used to be, yeah

No matter the distance
I want you to know
That deep down inside of me

You are my fire
The one desire
You are (you are, you are, you are)
Don't want to hear you say

Ain't nothin' but a heartache
Ain't nothin' but a mistake
(Don't want to hear you say)
I never want to hear you say
I want it that way

'Cause I want it that way"

She takes a bow and hops back down to go sit with August.

"Hey I don't judge people for ordering delivery. It pays my bills," Tor half-slurs to Cecil. He gives Maggi a grin as his pint of water arrives. He chugs half of it almost immediately. "I'm just saying, if you don't pay the lazy asshole tax, you're...an asshole." From the way he said that, he'd normally have phrased it in a more clever way. He looks back at the stage, eyebrows arched. "Did that guy just say I sounded like Cobain? Fuck, man. Don't insult a man in his grave." Though he doesn't really say that loud enough for Davis to hear, especially since someone else is getting up to sing.

And Eleanor gets the bird flipped to her for him not knowing the words, but in the kindest possible way. And then he shout-sings part of the chorus just to prove her wrong.

August watches Eleanor go up on the stage, laughs when the track fires up. Of course he remembers this one, even if the Backstreet Boys weren't anything he went out of his way to listen to in the 90s. (No one didn't hear it, because that was how radio was back then, but he definitely never listened to it of his own volition.)

He sings along, has to stop to laugh when Tor shouts the chorus. It's a good karaoke song, he'll give her that.

"Hey, he was only one of the very best rock guitarists in between," Scott replies to Park, before he listens to Eleanor's singing. He might even be singing a little along, smiling as he does.

Entering the tavern, Everett ducks his head as he travels under the door frame and is belted with karaoke from the moment the door opened. A few paces into the establishment proper before he takes the labels of his jacket and gives them a shake, like a bird fluffing up its feathers. It showcases the green t-shirt he's wearing a size too small with black block letters on the chest. 'D A D     B O D'. His green eyes settle on the DJ booth and pause there, finding not Hank the karaoke staple, but some other guy.

Everett shrugs after this new feature and heads that way to add his name and song to the list.

Cecil watches Eleanor on stage in wide-eyed amazement. Despite saying he won't get up on stage, he does find himself singing along with the chorus. Afterwards, he claps, and then he keeps drinking beer. Maybe after this one he'll be buzzed enough to make a fool out of himself.

Eleanor flops down beside August giggling. "Karaoke is meant to be a group sport. Pick a sing a long and everyone will join in, so it doesn't matter if you can sing or not," she explains to him and Cecil, downing the rest of her White Russian.

Eleanor's song gets Park singing along - even if it was before her time - as well as some wildly enthusiastic, if not entirely appropriate, dancing. She seems to think the beats per minute of the song are more than they are. Cheering when the singer finishes before Leon hits the stage...or sneaks upon it. "Oh, I play synthesizers" she happily announces to the world. "Gosh, this song seems pretty old. Almost as old as the Frank Sinatra one before."

Kailey comes in a few seconds after Everett smelling faintly of cigarette smoke. It may be she was talking up some smokers outside in her cheerful way. And when she does she sees familiar faces and beams. Waving at Eleanor and then Park as she catches up with Everett. Always catching up to big-stride. Her arm slides around his as she leans in, looking around for a place to sit. "Want to grab drinks while I send in our songs?" She offers with a big smile.

Did Leon have the voice to sing Rush? Absolutely not. Sure, he sang high, but it was still an octave low. But the man had the enthusiasm, gusto, and stage presence enough to make up for it. It was a truly epic ruination of everyone's favorite Tom Sawyer, the sort of performance everyone loves and hates, the sort that just screams amateur karaoke, but is still enough fun in spite of itself.

A modern-day warrior
Mean, mean stride
Today's Tom Sawyer
Mean, mean pride
Though his mind is not for rent
Don't put him down as arrogant
His reserve, a quiet defense
Riding out the day's events
The river
What you say about his company
Is what you say about society
Catch the mist
Catch the myth
Catch the mystery
Catch the drift
The world is, the world is
Love and life are deep
Maybe as his skies are wide
Today's Tom Sawyer, he gets high on you
And the space he invades, he gets by on you
No, his mind is not for rent
To any god or government
Always hopeful, yet discontent
He knows changes aren't permanent
But change is
And what you say about his company
Is what you say about society
Catch the witness
Catch the wit
Catch the spirit
Catch the spit
The world is, the world is
Love and life are deep
Maybe as his eyes are wide
Exit the warrior
Today's Tom Sawyer
He gets high on you
And the energy you trade
He gets right on to
The friction of the day

Cecil finishes his beer. Claps for Leon, then points at August and says, "This is on you." Then he gets up and walks over to the signup sheet. He writes on it in his neat penmanship, nice and deliberate, then he returns to the bar. "And I'm feeling maudlin, so..." He nods. Yeah. Maudlin.

August slips an arm around Eleanor as she rejoins him, gives her a kiss. "Indeed, and you made an excellent choice," he assures her, trying not to laugh. He laughs at Park comparing the relative ages of Dean Martin and the Backstreet Boys, rueful and resigned. Ah well. Who knows, maybe Scott will learn her.

Rush, especially older Rush, he's readily familiar with, so when Tom Sawyer fires up he half-shuts his eyes and smiles. "Ah, haven't heard this one in a while." He cheers raucously for Leon, raises his beer to him when he's done.

"Good man," he tells Cecil. "You'll feel better for doing it." A wave and a small smile to Kailey when he sees her.

Eleanor leans into the curve of August's arm and murmurs along with Tom Sawyer, applauding for their host when he's done, and adding in a whistle for good measure. She shoos Cecil towards the sign up. "Do it!"

For as much of a spectacle as he made of himself, Tor Irish goodbyes somewhere during the last song. Not that he was engaging deeply with anyone who would find that rude, but still. The pizza boy turned bartender slips out, apparently having had enough off-key singing and cheap beer for the night. Or maybe he just decided it's more cost-effective to continue drinking back in his trailer.

"Oh my gosh! It's Kailey!" Park waves frantically, and grins broadly, at the woman's wave, "And the Sasquatch. Such a happy couple." Leon's performance is applauded. "Yay, Tom!" she yells up at him. Everett's song choice has her surprised. "Oh my gosh, such a sad song...but beautiful. It's like a Hurts song." She notices Tor leaving and offers him a wave of karaoke comradeship - they are brothers-in-mic now.

Everett's reply to Kailey is a throaty noise is displeasure while he glares down at her and smirks. The new guy is given a look, then Everett turns course for the bar, getting a step before smacking Kailey's behind. ... to the announcement of his name. He looks over and grunts, his green eyes rolling over-exaggeratedly before his future was been set for him again and he changes course for the stage. While Everett gets to the stage and gives this new guy a stone-faced nod to begin playing the song there's a pause. One long enough to make someone think there isn't going to be music until a piano picks up, and Everett adjusts the microphone stand up. And up. Then a couple speak:

>Him: "It is if everyone dies alone."
>Her: "Does that scare you?"
>Him: "I don't wanna be alone."

Then there's almost no pause between what that man says, and when Everett closes his eyes, proving that he put, at least some, of this song to memory.
>I look for you
>Every day, every night
>I close my eyes
>From the fear, From the light
>
>As I wander down the avenue so confused
>Guess I'll try and force a smile

Here, when he gets to the chorus, Everett proves he's leaned the song phonetically. While the words promise the song says*world's crashing down*, Everett replaces it with another word altogether.

>Pink lemonade sippin' on a Sunday
>Couples holding hands on a runway
>They're all posing in a picture frame
>Whilst my heart's crashing down
>Solo shadow on a sidewalk
>Just want somebody to die for
>Sunshine livin' on a perfect day
>While my heart's crashing down
>I just want somebody to die for

>I long for you
>Just a touch

>Her: "Does that scare you?"

>Of your hand
>You don't leave my mind
>Lonely days I'm feeling
>Like a fool for dreaming
>
>As I wander down the avenue so confused
>Guess I'll try and force a smile

This time, when the chrous comes again, Everett's eyes open, he's looking at one person in particular. And then to the words. And his voice cracks when he realizes, albeit a little late, he's been singing the wrong word the whole time he's been practicing.
His cheeks turn rosy.

>I just want somebody to die for
>I just want somebody to die for (to die for)
>I just want somebody to {pause} die for

>Her: "Does that scare you?"
>Him: "I don't wanna be alone."

And then the chrous is song, again. This time, the world that's meant to be there is there. ...

>I just want somebody to die for
>{pause}
>I just want somebody to, die for (to die for)

Eleanor applauds for Everett and then cheers to encourage Cecil before she leans in to August. "I need to head home, love. I have to cover Della's early shift tomorrow, she has a family thing to go to." She leans in to kiss her husband before she heads out for the night.

Kailey finds herself giggling when Park's nickname for Everett reaches her ears. She turns to look up at him with a big grin and says, "Nah, he doesn't have enough fur to be a sasquatch. Definitely a Jøtun though." There's mischief in those green eyes. There often is to be fair. She moves over to offer Park a quick hug after shooting Everett a -look- for the butt-smack. As Everett begins to sing she tilts her head and listens intently. Brow quirking and a little smile tugging at her lips.

August looks thoughtful as he listens to Everett's song, claps for him when he's done. He returns Eleanor's kiss, properly, gives her a hug. "Drive safe. I'll be home in a bit." He watches her leave, anxious almost, consoles himself with his fries. He's not even sure what he's anxious about, except, there was a shootout.

He focuses on karaoke instead of last week's failings, claps for Cecil taking the stage.

Sorry, Davis. So, so sorry. Cecil gets a brief deer-in-headlights look, and he glances around, like he might pull a runner. Now is no time for hyperventilation! He takes a deep breath, shoots August a hard look, and then walks up to the stage. "Hello," he says into the microphone the same way some people apologize. "This is, uh, for someone who isn't here."

Okay, see, it's not that Cecil can't sing. It's that it's hard to tell if he can sing, because he treats the microphone like it might be made of spiders, and he can only be heard in rare moments when he accidentally moves too close to it and it manages to transmit his voice. During those snatches of sound, his voice tremors a little with nervousness, but at least it's mostly in tune with the music blaring on without him.

After successfully avoiding the microphone more or less for three and a half minutes, he manages to mumble, "Thank you," into it, and then he walks toward the bar like there were a fire drill.

Evacuating the stage when his turn is done, he does like he ought to, and heads for the bar. As ordered. It gives him both enough time to acknowledge the laminations of those that had to listen to him, his cheeks to return to their pale white, and return with his hands occupied with the drinks the gorilla was told to fetch.
Now if only he could be trained not to widdle in the house.

Kailey watches the big mook go get their drinks with this goofy little smile on her face. But she is quickly distracted by Cecil's signing. Or rather the lack of it? Well, she can sort of hear him and she quirks a brow up and seems vaguely sympathetic. As she waits for Ev she pulls over a napkin and out comes a pen with which she begins to doodle on the napkin. When Ev arrives with drinks he gets a sunny smile and, "Thanks," As she takes her root beer.

It’s ok, Cecil. No one might be able to really hear you embarrass yourself, but Leon certainly seemed to be on the same kick. Maybe he had pregamed a little before people had been showing up, maybe he was just having a good time, but the big bartender/locksmith was belting out the lines to the truly catchy and iconic song. Thankfully, he did not have the mic assist on this one, so just the people at the bar... And Maggi.... had to suffer him.

Scott has just been listening in quiet now, applauding the ones singing. Looking a little bit thoughtful as he glancesd around the room again.

So, Joe looks straight up awful. There's no other word for it. He's pale and drawn and hollow-eyed; you don't heal from combat wounds at fifty-one like you do at twenty-three. But he's there and upright, even if leaning on a cane made of some blue metal. Dressed in his heavy gray greatcoat, old jeans, and a faded blue t-shirt, he stumps towards the bar to claim a stool. He's getting a drink, by God, even if he has to leave his bike in the parking lot and Uber home.

August claps for Cecil, even cheers a bit, and signals for Leon to get the poor man another drink on August's tab. After all, he and Eleanor are to blame for that. As Cecil returns to his seat, August assures him, "Well done." A followup cheer for Kailey's song choice, though it doesn't last. He half-turns in his seat, grimacing, and catches sight of Joe. "Oh, damn it, Cavanaugh," he mutters, and gets up to angle towards him. Oh yeah, that's The Face.

Oh is it her turn now? Kailey takes a quick sip of her root beer before leaning over to give Everett a moister-than-usual kiss. Then she is bouncing up and over to the stage with a smile. But her expression changes as she does, biting her lower lip for a brief second. Then she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Kailey grasps the mic and her smile is faint and eyes distant as she listens to the opening piano chords of Hallelujah. Licking her lips and taking a slow and deep breath, she begins to sing,

"Now, I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

"Hallelujah..." And she points at the audience encouragingly to get them to sing with her. Because in all truth, most people do tend to jump in on that chorus. Even if only in their minds. Halleluja three more times, singing with apparent feeling though her eyes are focused on the floor. And then the next verse,

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah,"

And again the crowd is encouraged to sing the chorus with her. Eyes glancing towards Everett with a tender smile before returning to the floor. Her voice strong and clear. One might even guess she has sung this many times before, because she barely needs to glance at the monitor.

"You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah," Kailey sings and her eyes are almost closed. Putting emotion into the song as best she can. Which is pretty good really. The chorus goes and this time she focuses more on singing than getting the crowd to sing along with her.

"I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..." And several more until the last one that she holds the note for well on. And when she is done pauses before opening her eyes and putting the mic back on the stand. She smiles at the crowd and moves back to her table a little flushed.

Park gives Kailey a tight hug in return when it's offered. "You look soooo good. Been ages, we really should get together." A curious look at Everett on stage. "He isn't hairy?" That surprises Park but she happily applauds his rendition of misery. "He needs to smile more."

And then there is Cecil. It pushes Park to her limits, but she is still enthusiastic for him. It is the emotion that matters, not the technique. She would much rather listen to Cecil sing than Mariah Carey practising scales every word. Cheers for him too. Kailey is up with an old standard. Not one of Park's favourites but she will cheer her companion on. Though the next song is hopefully a bit poppier or else Park will be forced to sing Baby Shark again.

"Cohen..." Scott mutters to himself as he hears what's being sung, smiling as he did. He'll even hum along with the song, even if he may not realize it.

With a clink of his grain beer, Everett murmurs, "No problem. Haven't done that in a while," he adds with his deep voice. A pause for wetting his throat, his focus turning to Kailey's doodles. Until the experience on stage is over with. Not that he didn't embarrass himself, but uproarious applauding rises from Everett. And a hoot, and even the holler. Whatever it takes to both take the attention away from his embarrassment and onto Cecil's, while also being supportive with Kailey. And when she returns to the table, Everett mutters, "I'm glad your dick didn't stick," before dwarfing her by putting his arm around her shoulders and hugging her tightly to him.

Already clearly in the singing mood, Leon absolutely joins in with Kailey’s lead, smiling widely. It was a good performance, and though he’d been polite to clap for most during the night, this time, he actually lets out a good whistle alongside some enthusiastic clapping. He probably missed August’s signal, but that’s ok, sometimes his wife was sharper.

Yet another example, if Leon had spotted Joseph on his way to the bar, the big man would have absolutely rounded it to help. But Joseph basically appears to the Locksmith, tossing himself on a stool, and Leon looks taken aback, “Fuckin hell, Joe. What happened to you?” He plants both hands on the bar after setting a napkin down in front of the man.

The cheers do seem to help Cecil. By the time he gets to his bar stool, he's not quite hedgehogging, just curled in at the shoulders a bit. "I don't like you," he tells August. "What I mean is you're my mate, and I love you, but that will haunt me." Give him Veil monsters, full-on tentacles, he'll be fine with that! But this? This is truly horrifying. He looks around. Is there a drink? He needs a drink. He forgets his own mortification as he spies Joe, though, so there's that. "Good heavens, Joe. You've seen better days."

"Well, I got shot," Joe says, bluntly, leaning his cane against the bar. "Had worse," he adds. "Hey, Cecil, Leon. What's up y'all? C'n I get a Jack and Coke?" Clearly, someone has already boarded the Train of Bad Decisions to Fuckedupistan. He hasn't noticed August heading for him. No, he's got that look like he intends to barnacle to the bar for as long as he can.

"We definitely do. You can meet the babe," Kailey had told Park before her song. "He does at home. Shhh, don't tell him I told you," She put a finger to her lips and winked with a conspiratorial smile.

As Kailey settles at the table she gives him a long look and then sticks her tongue out. "Might have been able to sing some songs better if it had," She says with a sniff as he pulls her into a hug. The big man gets a gentle elbow in the rib as she continues to look vaguely insulted by his off-the-wall comment. "Hmph," And she takes a gulp of her drink. Turning to Park from her seat she asks, "So what have you been up too, girl? Did you try and run away from this crazy place and it drag you back too?"

Maybe it's Kailey's song choice that calms August down some, because by the time he makes it to Joe the much-feared Face has been replaced with a tight, sad smile of concern. "Hey sailor. Fancy seeing you here." He cuts a sidelong look at Leon, back down at the bar. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for patching me up during all of that," he says, voice low. "Can return the favor, if you want." You know, so he can drink properly, and not with August staring at him, threatening to text Ruiz, Itzhak, maybe the whole town.

Scott sighs as the karaoke ends, applauding for Davis as well, before he looks around. "I should head out. Need to prepare for this linguistics test." And then, he's out of there.

A vet doesn’t tell another vet not to drink, most often. In fact, Leon already had the Jack in his hand, Joseph a regular enough drinker of the stuff that whiskey was already hitting ice by the time Joseph said Coke. The drink is served soon after. “The fuck you doing in front of bullets, Joe?” Leon asks in an almost accusatory manner, as if clearly this was some sort of fault of the sailor to be putting himself in danger at his age. The look August gives him gets a blink, as if wondering why the man didn’t agree with his assessment.

Try as he might, Everett's never been quick enough to flick his forefinger against Kailey's tongue whenever she sticks it out. Doesn't stop him from trying and smirking at the attempt. "I like the way you sing just fine," he adds before he takes another pull from his drink, his smirk fading to his resting dick-head face, his attention turns from the conversation happening right in front of him after giving a gentle grunt from the ribbing. His upper lip retracts with repugnance with the suggestion of musicals, though when a few claps rise for Davis, Everett pulls his arm from around Kailey to join in.

"You more'n welcome. I owed you big from my first little shindig with Reyes," Joe says, cocking a look at August. "But if we wanna keep the reciprocity circle-jerk goin', I am A OK with that. This shit used'a be a fuck of a lot easier....and you got that look like you seriously thinkin' about callin' Papi to come get me. So have at."

To Leon, he explains, "Part'a that big ol' mess first at the police station, and then the mall. Some cartel fuckwits shootin' up downtown, and unlike the Panchito Pistoles I'm datin', I showed up a li'l underdressed - namely, without plates or kevlar. Just stopped the one, but the one was where it counts, y'know? They got Rosencrantz real bad."

"OOOHHhh! I LOVE musicals!" Kailey says with a grin and her eyes sweep around the room. Joseph gets an extra smirk for some reason. Then her eyes return to her root beer and she takes another swig. As things begin to wind down she gives a stretch and smirks as she says, "I sing pretty good. I used to dream about making it big as a singer. I almost went to America's Got Talent when they were in Seattle one time..."

Cecil nods to Maggi in silent thanks, and he drinks. For a few good, solid gulps, he addresses no one and nothing save for the imbibing of this precious beer. Then he sets it down, licks the foam from his lips, and he says, quietly, "Papi." He nods to himself. It's one of those 'this must be what going crazy feels like' moments.

"Bye, Scott" Park gives him a hug to send him on his way. "You will do fine, you were always a cunning linguist." She looks surprised at Kailey's question. "I haven't been anywhere. Working. Studying. I am soooo almost a dentist. You should come and see me. And your baby too. And the non-Everett baby as well" she winks. "Ooh, musicals! Who doesn't like musicals? I might do 'Blame Canada'. Why didn't you audition, Kailey? You only live once."

"So go for it. You score none of the goals you don't shoot for," Everett advises Kailey after turning her way and taking a small drink of his beer while listening to her. There's a pause and his head slowly turns Park's directly with eyes narrowed, as the smoke and noisy gears run, trying to figure out of Park's being clever or insulting. His mouth opens, a breath taken. Another pause and then he turns his head quickly enough to disturb his long hair. "Ppfft. The cat and I'll watch Mew, you hit it big and rank in that money. Just promise me one thing." He pauses, his thick brows rise, srs-face. "Just let me punch Cowell once. Please?"

This probably isn't a good idea. In fact it's definitely not a good idea. But August is gonna do it anyways.

He coughs a helpless 'fuck me' sort of laugh, shakes his head. "If I called him he'd come down here and raise hell, which," he glances at Leon, then Maggi, "either of them wants. So." He sets a hand on Joe's arm--on the shirt, not any exposed skin, looks aside. He winces, pales a little, goes still. A few seconds of this, then he pulls back. There's a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. He only just sees Scott departing, watches him go in a distracted, half-aware manner.

"Damn. That was a hell of a shot that fucker took." He sits heavily on a stool, takes a long breath and lets it out. "I may text him anyways. That just buys you an hour."

Leon’s brows drop into anger and frustration as he hears the run-down. As busy as he was running all over for his business and the bar, somehow he always seemed to miss these kinds of crazy doings. “Fucking hell.” A big hand comes up and swipes back over his head as the tingle of something runs over his scalp and down his spine, feeling August use his gift. He gives his head a good shake given before he’s looking between August and Joseph again.

“They still haven’t cleaned up that mess?” He lowers his voice as he leans a little closer, “If this shit is gonna keep happening in our town, call a fella. Tired of seeing brothers hurt.” He trades a glance with Maggi, making a covert hand signal. Cash comes out of his pocket and is tucked under the register. Joseph’s drink was on him.

It's Cecil's expression that makes Joe smirk, unashamedly. Like he has to know how that sits to someone who has a work-crush (or maybe just a crush-crush) on the Chief. Then August is doing his good deed for the day, and he grunts as the sensation hits him. It hurts, even as it helps and feels good. "All right. Hour it is, then. Yeah, hit me fuckin' square. Not as bad as a hit I took in Afghanistan, but...." A shrug.

He adds to Leon, "Man, it's taken care of. Some of 'em got dropped, some in custody, but they got the kingpin. Hell, I'm just sorry I didn't do it myself, fucker and I spent a real bad afternoon together this last summer. I owe him some quality time with jumper cables, let's just say. S'pose I'll have to content myself with seein' the Feds take him apart in court."

Cecil lowers his beer, and he glances between August, Leon, and Joe. "I didn't see you get hurt," he tells Joe quietly. "I wouldn't have left you, if I'd seen you get hurt." He glances aside at that smirk. Dude, that's his boss. Who just, like, really fills out that uniform. Quietly, he says, "I think I got one of them. Didn't kill him, but there was blood."

Kailey looks between Everett and Park a moment and then chuckles, "I dunno. Maybe if they come through again," She muses as she peers at her root beer. It has all the answers right? Maybe a sip will tell her? Nope. "I didn't audition because the voices told me not too," She says pretty straight up. "So I didn't." Then she peers at Everett. "Cowell? OH! Yeah, I wanna punch him too. After I make him sob on camera at my song."

"An hour," August echoes. He leans on the bar, rubs at his eyes. "We were trying to let the cops handle it," he tells Leon. "I only wound up involved because they shot up the garden show." How rude, to kill all those plants. (Though if we're being fair Ravn killed quite a few by using them as missiles.) A sigh, then he adds, "...and tried to stab me."

When Cecil speaks he lowers his hand, looks right at him. "Nor the battle to the strong, yeah? There's no shame in not being able to join the fight. Especially since," he pulls a face, "we weren't exactly in armor." Unlike, say, the police.

"Pfft, what do the voices know. They're always trying to drag you down" pouts Park. "Bad voices. I should probably get going to my other job. So good to see you again, Kailey. We will definitely hand and I sooooo want to see the baby. I bet it's sooooo cute." A hug for the woman, and even one for Everett - she knows he loves hugs. "Toodles" she grins before heading out into the cold with a last 'Bye everyone!' to all the patrons.

"The family that punches English imports together," starts Everett, swatching his beer to his other hand so he can offer the now emptied tattooed one to Kailey. Puppy knows shake. And once offered, he looks down at the label on his bottle only to begin picking at its edges with his thumb. It's how Park was able to accost him with foul hugs. "Gah," he manages after the surprise. "Ick, cooties."

Leon shakes his head at Cecil, the slightly chauvinistic assumption made at the man’s appearance and demeanor belied by the understanding words offered. “Firefights are havoc. You do the best you can when you can with the information you have. Hindsight is 20/20, but none of us have time traveling powers.” There’s a pause, a glance made upward, then a look made to August and the others. He seemed to be wondering if anyone did have time travel powers, what with being pulled into a time travel-esque Dream... or whatever that was. “It’s good to hear they’re fucked, then.” Leon thumps his hand on the bar as if to confirm his enthusiasm to it. He gets a thought, “Do we need to make some sort of uh... ’Chamber of Commerce’ or somethin, somethin for us uh... specialist business owners?”

"It's all right," Joe says, quietly. "Don't you worry about it. Fuck, I'm old enough to know better'n to run face first into a firefight, I been in one before, and I did it anyhow. We had help, we all came through," he assures the Englishman, voice gentle. "Really, civvies shouldn't wade in, even civvies with combat experience."

Then he cocks a forefinger at Leon. "Exactly what he said," he agrees. "And I don't think we'll need to form a specialist neighborhood watch now, if that's what you're proposin'," A sip from his drink, and a sigh of contentment.

"I might have taken a gun off of one of them," Cecil mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I shouldn't be saying any of this. Just, the important thing is -- the important thing is he's behind bars, and Joe, you're still with us. And let's not get hung up on who ran into firefights after being told never to do that. It's water under the bridge."

Wren strolls in the door. His curiosity about the "open" nameless bar hitches at the creak of the door. Ooo, nice. He gives the door a couple little swings back and forth. Squeek-squawk. Heh. He grins and looks up, glancing across the room. Glorious. The art of the Dive Bar has been preserved in this soggy little town. Bar. Stat. On his way to Mecca, he catches a snippet of conversation. An eyebrow goes up at the gun nuts. "Toto, you are not in Seattle, anymore," he murmurs to himself with a crooked smile.

August watches Leon's expression shifting, eventually catches on. After a few seconds of thoughtful consideration, he says, "I don't...think any of us can move through time." His tone is one of, 'at least I sure hope not'. "But, ah, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea, to loosely gather and spread information." He raises his eyebrows. "Ellie and Ignacio have been into that sort of thing. Might be worth chatting with them about it."

Catching Wren coming in out of the corner of his eye, he half-turns, pauses. He doesn't recognize him, but there's the Glimmer regardless. A sidelong glance at the others, then he moves back to his table to fetch his beer, clapping Cecil on the shoulder as he goes. "Don't worry--I'm sure he'll remember to lecture you about it soon enough." Is he trying to be reassuring? Maybe. Maybe not. Healing after downing a black and tan wasn't a fantastic idea, yet here we are.

“Hey, it’s just a thought. Those fellas burned down a shop like right across the street from here.” Leon adds a dip of his head toward the front door to reinforce his point to Joseph. “And I’d be on a rage somethin fierce if they came in here after Maggi.” Another shrug, “Jus’sayin.” He nods toward August as he gets reinforcement on it, seeming to make a mental note to do just as he says.

Leon trades looks with Joseph and August briefly before looking over to Cecil once more, “Look, I think a few of us can agree there can be a fine line between courage and stupidity. We take what comes, we hope to see each other on the other side. Whatever that side is. Hopefully it’s upright.” He claps the bar again, “But you sit now in front of the wooden altar and drink and say, ‘They all came home.’ Best outcome, by far.” Leon grins, pretty pleased that he waxed a little whimsical and it didn’t sound terrible.

Leon was a little less observant of Wren for Glimmer, save to notice a new customer entered that he didn’t recognize and happened to have some. Internal shrug. “Hey man, what’ll ya have?” Because maybe the question would jar the man away from awkwardly standing near the entrance.

Wren makes it to the bar, setting him palms in the altar. Decisions, decisions... arson? Wait what? How roughneck is this crowd? He takes a glance down the bar, wondering if he has made a tactical error. "Bless me, Father, for I am sober. You have a Wild Turkey and soda back there?" He smiles and digs in his back pocket for his wallet.

Cecil gives August a somewhat wretched look as the lecture is mentioned. Oh, it will come. "I hid," he claims, "like I was supposed to." That's his story, and he's sticking with it. He nods to Leon. "That's the important thing," he says as he studies his glass. "It was a close call, but everyone's accounted for." He takes another drink. The topic of gunfights is far more easygoing a thing for him than trying to sing love songs.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Joe hastens to tell Cecil, voice still low. "'specially not in that situation. Yeah, I been lectured on that front enough times." He reaches out to pat the younger man on the arm.

A nod for August. "I s'pose it does sound like a good idea," he allows, before his gaze follows the arborist's to the newcomer. No comment, before he looks back. Leon's speech has him jerking a thumb in his direction. "He just put it better'n I could've, but it's the stone truth." An approving grin for that. "You keep tellin' 'em that," he says. Roughneck enough - this one's got suicide scars on his arms, as well as plenty of ink. But he at least seems good-natured.

August settles in for a spell with his phone, texting back and forth with someone for a bit. Presently he finishes off his black and tan and fries, gets up and heads towards the bar to prop it up in Joe's vicinity. He seems about to say something in response to Leon's comment regarding Maggi (rather, how he'd lose his mind if something had come her way as a result of that situation), thinks better of it. "It was definitely something to let the cops deal with, just," he winces, "those assholes weren't inclined to let it just be between them and the cops. And they were like us," a significant look for each of them, "so it was bound to spill out." You know...like it did.

But there's a new topic at hand--namely, the new guy. His mouth twitches in a smile for Wren's drink of choice. He flicks a glance at Joe, maybe a look of, 'a drinker you can appreciate, I'm sure'.

Leon barks a laugh. New guy had jokes. The Wild Turkey order has Leon’s lips pressed into an impressed purse, pouring the strange dichotomy to Joseph’s favored drink and setting it in front of the newcomer. Cecil’s expression at the lecture comment draws Leon’s attention, glancing between the Englishman, Joseph and August.

“What? De la Vega?” Leon makes a noise and makes a quintessentially uncouth motion of shaking his fist up and down, then a finger-splaying throw, “Look, here’s the play.” Leon holds a palm out asking for Cecil to just humor him, “Once he starts in just tell him you found out Clayton was looking for someone to teach him how to pick locks.” He lifts his eyebrows for emphasis, as if this was shocking news. No one was shocked. Leon was grinning. “And he stopped asking me, so someone’s gotta be teaching him.” Whether any of that was true remained to be seen, but Leon was positive he would at least be amused by how this situation would play out.

"What? Throw Clayton under the bus like that?" Cecil's brows lift in surprise. He isn't saying no, per se. Then he sighs. "The problem is I want to do a good job. I want him to think I do good work. And I did hide, maybe 83% of the time." He's clearly thought about this. A lot. Then he says, "I'll take my lumps. He's only looking out for us. It's not an easy job."

Wren gives a toothy grin at the laughter and lays his card and ID on the bar before accepting the drink. A little lift to the bartender in thanks before he takes a sip. Ah, yes. Lovely burn, there. He looks at the fellas and shugs, "Internet, maybe? You can learn all kinds on things on Youtube. Always wanted to try learning to pick locks, myself. Like Magnum P.I." He gives a wry grin and takes another pull of whisky.

"A man of good taste," Joe approves, with mock solemnity, lifting his Jack and Coke in salute, as eyes dart his way at that order. He's got a lazy Georgia drawl that sticks out here in Terre d'Lumberjack.

Then he's backing up Roen. "He's right," he says....only to nearly choke on his drink at Leon's suggestion. The mention of Clayton dims his laughter, just a little, and all he says to that is, "Do," Oh, yes, here's a grudge there. "I 'unno. Somethin' to be said for just kickin' the door in question in."

August, who's switched to water for the drive home, does choke on his drink. "Christ, Gyre, warn a guy." He clears his throat, shakes his head. A grimace at Joe's reaction to throwing Alexander under the bus, but he makes no verbal comment to go with it. Instead, he says to Wren, "I promise we're perfectly okay people overall, and this is just a momentary lapse of reason." He's probably lying. But his shine, his Glimmer, is like a city on fire, so maybe he's not. He arches an eyebrow. "New in town? Or just to the 'House."

Leon’s only commentary after that was lifting both hands, palms out, head tipped in surrender to people wanting to live their lives the way they saw fit. He was grinning, though, as his joke did seem to go over well. Of course, both these hands come down soon after, the Magnum PI comment (just like on TV!) knocking him low. He leaned on the bar in straight armed fashion as he hunches his shoulder and hangs his head.

Boy, did he look like he was in pain.

When Leon lifts his face again, he turns it half aside, keeping his lips in a flat line of judgement as he side eyes Wren. Luckily, the locksmith refrains from comment and goes to take care of some other customers. Over there.

Wren salutes Joseph with his glass. "Thanks. I tend to be an 'and' guy, you know? Most anything else gets in the way of the booze." Speaking of... slurp. Ahh. He blinks after Leon's back and looks back at August, "Uh... what I say?" He sets his drink down and wipes it off before offering his hand, "Hi. I'm Wren." He blinks a bit, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He looks a little confused and uncomfortable while trying to be friendly. Wren glances at the others, taking in the odd shimmers and glints around them. Um... what the fuuuuuck...? He adds, "Uh, both, really."

Cecil smiles a little at Wren. "Hello, I'm Cecil." He finishes his beer, then says, "I think I'm going to walk home, boys, and come collect my car in the morning. It's always a pleasure. Roen, never let me sing in public again. I'll be having flashbacks for weeks." He pauses, then says, "Should I say that? To the Chief?" Loyalty is tested in this moment, but then he says, "I couldn't. He knows I don't joke around."

Wren lift his hand in hello/goodbye. "Nice meeting you, Cecil. Perhaps I will see you about." He digs a ragged paperback from his pocket and settles in to read a while.

August watches Leon go, blinking. "Not sure," he says, frowning. After a second he shrugs, shakes his head. "Don't sweat it too much. Or ask him next time you're here--whatever. He's a good guy to know." But then, more bartenders are. "August Roen, I run the plant shop on the highway.

He gives Cecil an up-nod as he departs, slides off his barstool. "Alright, Cavanaugh, you luck out this time. But I'm texting one of them before I go to bed. In fact..." He takes out his phone, swipes a text. To--both? Just de la Vega? He keeps his phone hidden from view. "There. Figure in forty-five or so you'll get an earful from one of them." He settles up, heads for the door. "Gentlemen." And then he's off.