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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 4, 2010 6:28:00 GMT -8
Arch hears a sigh on the other end of the phone.
"Look. I'll fuckin' level with you since you're obviously not from around here. The only game in town are the ones at the tables. Vegas has made its reputation on building skyscrapers on the graves of people like you. That ain't no figure of speech, mi amico, that's a fuckin' fact. We only got one rule in Vegas -- you can't play the house, the house plays you. That don't mean there aren't opportunities, and opportunistic fuckfaces that try to take a slice of the pie. It means if they do and get caught? The cherry on their face ain't maraschino, get me? So, because I'm feeling so fuckin' generous, I'll do you a favor and not pass along your little message and save one less bodybag from needing to go to tha cleaners. It's fuckin' expensive to clean up blood."
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Post by brendur on Oct 4, 2010 7:09:54 GMT -8
Arch tries to keep the sound of him rolling his eyes out of his voice. EVERYONE claimed to be the hardest act in town to steal from, from the diamond peddling Jews of old, to the digital pioneers of the new generation. They all fought dirty, they all broke the rules to get back what was theirs, and they never called the police. Arrogance called no profession spouse.
Still he wasn't going to piss off the Mob his second day here, good way to get dead quick.
"Same risk, steeper fall. Well, who am I to argue with a local over the price of espresso? Apologies for wasting your time, and I hope you'll forgive a senile old man a temporary lapse in his sanity, nothing for it but to retire then."
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 4, 2010 10:25:57 GMT -8
Ben settles into a booth at Denny's and winds up getting a hamburger (which he knew he would) and a four-berry fizz. (His favorite drink in the entire world that wasn't flammable) He destroys both inside of about three minutes, and feels several shades better afterwards now that his stomach has something to occupy it, figuratively and literally.
As he waits on the check he considers what opportunities he has in the city. Damned close to nothing, he figures. He doesn't know anyone here, hasn't been here in years. The minor dramarama at the counter with poor beleaguered Candee would seem to indicate his friend last night probably -had- been up to tricks, and had also probably flown the coop.. Or possibly been caught, though she seemed little slick for that. But in either case he wouldn't know where to find her now. He hadn't bothered to check up on where his cab partner had gone to. Which left him.. Well it left him in the middle of Denny's. He sucked on the corpse of the fizz and brought his check up to the register when it materialized.
Exiting the building into the hot afternoon air he suddenly resolves to just take a walkabout. Get his bearings and force some fresh air into his head. -metaphorically at least, the strip smells like a parking garage- If he was going to be here for a while, he may at least take in the sights. Maybe hope for a little more serendipity.
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Post by e on Oct 4, 2010 19:31:08 GMT -8
Penn steps into a public bathroom and slips on her new purchases, folding last nights frock into the white paper bag the new clothes had come in. She notices the receipt nestled in the bottom and glances at it, noting the time of her purchase was 3:45.
She bites her lower lip, wincing against the harsh glare coming at her from glass windows and doors. She hazards a quick glance back toward the New York New York and then smiles broadly, looking back at the white paper in her hand.
Brilliant! The time mark is whispering to her that this holiday is coming up roses. She tucks the receipt back in the bag and looks about to get her bearings. She's jolly well eager to find the man who sent her that note and purposefully begins moving through all manner of tourists and a few locals toward the indicated meeting place.
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 5, 2010 20:32:25 GMT -8
(( okay, so I swear that not all the male NPCs that you meet in this game will be ridiculously hostile and not all the female NPCs completely idiotic, airheaded and interchangable. Arch is just really lucky that way ;D )) The voice on the other end of the phone doesn't wait past the word "time" before Arch hears a click and realizes he's talking to air. Chalk that one up as a loss, then. As Penelope exits the air conditioned coolness of the in-hotel shopping mall at New York New York into the festering heat, she passes by a Dennys and realizes she's famished. As she's waiting to be seated, she happens to notice the courier from yesterday and for a minute they make eye contact. The digital clock on the wall says 4:02. 11 - Netivot(( sorry for the hand of god, but it was this or have you guys flounder for a while...also, penelope has been rolling extraordinarily well with her luck rolls lately...must be all the crazy superstitious juju... ))
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 5, 2010 21:54:47 GMT -8
Well, speak of the devil, and the devil appears. ..Or think of the devil. Whatever works. Ben turns and heads over before he has a chance to think about what he's doing and potentially talk himself out of it.
"Well hey!" It's easy to seem cheerful because at the moment he actually is. Something is going right, and he always likes that. "Pleasure to see you again... If you have a minute or two, I'd like it if you and I could have a quiet but very strange conversation." He smiles, and again it's easy because he means it.
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Post by e on Oct 6, 2010 10:38:38 GMT -8
Penn has just been wondering if this is the kind of place that serves those cheesy fries that her school roommate was always drooling over and if she, in fact, wants those or something a bit more chocolate and squidgy when she spots him. This is more than mere coincidence, this is fate speaking rather thunderously.
Naturally she checks the time on the rather prominent clock and sees 4:02. Bother. Sometimes the hour itself isn't anything special and you have to put the luck in there on your own. This second meeting cannot be anything but opportunity, regardless of the time.
He seemed safe enough, knowing he watched her little con last night and then left her well enough alone afterward, when he could have cried wolf. She tosses nervous aside and goes right on toward intrigued, smiling at the bloke as he moves toward her.
"If you have a minute or two, I'd like it if you and I could have a quiet but very strange conversation."
"Yeh, alright. It'll be a giggle." She smiles back at the man and peers at the booth he just came from. "Can I join you?"
She begins walking toward the booth. "I'm Penn, by the by."
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 6, 2010 14:00:59 GMT -8
Ben was so involved in getting food in his stomach that he hardly noticed the server when he...she...came over. Now that....the server....has returned, giving Ben a slightly sullen look as if to say you didn't tell me you had company coming, he has a chance to look...the server over.
The person standing at the table, pen and pad dutifully in hand, waiting for Penn to give her order is, by all appearances, a late-forties/early-fifties man...in a dress...Not a wild frock like the transvestites he remembers from West Hollywood, but a plain, downright homely, flowered number, formless in shape and giving hi-- her the appearance of an underweight whale. The hair on top is obviously thinning not quite so much as to suggest male pattern baldness, but obviously not the full head of hair that was once there in...youth. It's hard to think of the person as female -- despite the "Jane" clearly printed on her nametag -- because her physical and facial features are so masculine. Even the slight bulges at her chest -- no doubt from the strict hormone regimen she must be on, they certainly aren't prominent enough to be implants -- do nothing to disguise the fact that this person was, if s/he is no longer, a man. It's also hard, he realizes, not to stare, and as he does, trying as hard as possible to reprogram his brain into thinking of her as a her (the husky voice does nothing to help the effect), he wonders for a moment what it must be like to walk in her shoes and endure the stares (and, no doubt, comments and small tips) she has to live with everyday for the choice she made. He hopes it's worth it.
After taking Penn's order, she returns to the window facing the kitchen and passes along the order. From the way the dishwashers, other servers and busboys react to her, she must be a shift manager, if not the actual manager of the restaurant, which suggests a whole slew of other potential problems and difficulties for her...enough to put aside his own repressed personal discomfort at the person's decision enough to feel pity for her. But he puts that aside and focuses on what's in front of him right now, that being a lovely British lady that happens to keep showing up in the same place as him.
She's young. Attractive, but not overly-so. She has a gleam in her eye that suggests she's not a stranger to being the center of attention. Given that she's not a Barbie-style model-type, he assumes she's some kind of entertainer; an actress or musician. She certainly has a musical lilt to her speech, so if he had to lay a bet, he'd say a singer.
He was completely out of his league to have tried the British accent, he realizes. He may have meant well, especially after dealing with that crazy old man, Dover, whose accent and heavily-flavored language was thick enough to drink like a pint of Guiness. "Penn" has a quiet, city accent that makes Ben think of Minnie Driver.
He'd place her at mid- to late-twenties, though she has subtle crows feet and bags under her eyes that suggest a painful past or hard luck.
She isn't fidgety, and maintains good eye contact -- always a good sign of whether he's dealing with a halfway honest person or a complete scumbag -- but her eyes do wander about the room in an unconscious way, as if casing the joint, which, he suspects, she is. If she is what he thinks she is, she's obviously both good at what she does and creative, able to come up with ingenious solutions to complex problems quickly and efficiently. It is, he suspects, at least partially what drove her to be a musician -- if that is what she is -- a method for creating a revenue stream that involved out-of-the-box thinking and a distinct lack of self-consciousness. All of which paint this person as someone he'd want on his team if he was forming one.
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 6, 2010 14:03:06 GMT -8
"Oh sure, have a seat." Ben retreats back to the booth and reseats himself.
"Pleasure to meet you, Penn. I'm Ben, which rhymes, and is rather awkward." He chuckles, leaning back against the seat.
"But, uh, what I wanted to talk to you about was, after what happened at the check-in desk last night, I started considering that you and I might be in the same vocation. Now.. Despite my introduction last night, I'm not really a messenger. My actual job is more along the lines of meeting people, getting to know them, and then getting them to do what I want. ...Don't worry about yourself about that, though. You've already pegged me and I just tipped my hat anyway, so you're exempt."
He smiles, looking and feeling more comfortable now that he had been at any point previously today.
"So. As one tradesman to another, I could really use any sort of a lead towards... Anything to do out here, since I'm out of work at the moment.. I'm not starving or anything, but I'd like to keep busy. Keeps the rust off."
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Post by brendur on Oct 6, 2010 16:25:52 GMT -8
Arch claps the phone shut, glowering at the sun still daring to come through the window.
"Feckin dago sodomite."
At least real Italians had the calm to invite you in before telling you to fuck off. He really didn't want to relocate less than a day after landing, and he'd already gotten the room for a week. He'd told the wop that he'd vanish, but he had this nagging feeling that there was still work to be had here. Relocating would cost more money, plus it would hurt his reputation in the long run. He could hear the boys back home now: Ole Arch, scared off by some greaser fresh off his mum's tit with a three inch knife, old boy ain't got the backbone no more.
Ah piss it, he'd spend the week, and stay the hell away from the tables. Maybe if the meeting with that young slip from the homeland worked out she could arrange something, pretty faces had more uses than distracting marks, sometimes they opened doors.
First things first though, Arch was in a foul mood and hungry to boot. A solid breakfast would do him good though, he flipped through the phone book and searched for a name that sounded the least poisonous and expensive. Denny's ...American's ate at Denny's didn't they?
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 6, 2010 19:09:08 GMT -8
(( Arch is a little ahead of the timeline so since you're plopping him with the others, we'll say that we can finally have all the characters on the same timeline (FUCKING YAY!!!) and he arrives sometime after Penn orders her food. )) Arch walks inside the restaurant -- a quick walk from his hotel -- and again is almost knocked to the floor with the sudden rush of cool air he's becoming more used to the longer he stays in this glorified desert. His eyes scan the room, and he hears someone talking to him -- which he ignores for the moment because he sees the man he shared a cab with yesterday having a conversation with someone. On closer inspection, the head of glossy raven hair and the occasional snippet of conversation that rises above the din of the restaurant makes it obvious that the lady is none other than the girl in the photo. Things could be looking up. At the moment, however, he hears an impatient throat-clearing and sees what looks to his eyes to be a man wearing a dress waiting for him to say something with an expectant look on his face ((see above description of Denny's manager)). UpkeepBen +3XP Penn +2XP Arch +2XP 12 - Hang Out(( Director's commentary: The manager of Denny's is based entirely on an actual person who works at the local Utah chain that's the equivalent of Denny's. We used to go there fairly frequently and could pinpoint the day that he officially became a she and started the process of becoming a M-t-F transsexual. Just in case anyone suspected I might be insensitive to the issue, no, in fact, this shit is real, I couldn't make it up if I tried (okay, maybe I could) ))
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 6, 2010 19:14:14 GMT -8
((gark. I totally missed your previous post. -_- I think you posted yours while I was typing mine...))
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 7, 2010 7:07:58 GMT -8
(( no big. I don't think anything really conflicts between the two. ))
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Post by brendur on Oct 7, 2010 11:27:38 GMT -8
(( Damn it, sorry I didn't mean to time jump >.< I'll try to keep better track of that. ))
Arch's eyes blink and squint though his coke bottles at the man?/woman?/person in front of him. He didn't have any sort of problem with poofs, trannies, metrosexuals, or any other sort of person that found their tastes settling just outside of biblical. Hell he had to sit across from that tart Diego and listen to the latest scrumptious piece of college ass the man had picked up before he could get anything useful out of him.
The problem was telling if these folks were coming or going. He..or was it she seemed to be in mid translation, and there was a large minefield for Arch's mouth to trip over. Thank god, she had a name tag, those were irrefutable. She could have had a beard and a chest like an oil barrel but if her name tag had said Percival, damn it her name would be Percival.
"Si...er..Ma...Jane, I'll be taking kipper with my two relations over there, no no, don't yew do a thing. Let old Uncle Arch surprise the young one's just this once."
He skirts his away around ...her and walks over to the two at the booth in as much of a non-threatening manner that he can muster. He forces a smile that says "Tired-old-man" as he sets his hands on the table and mutters beneath his breath to them.
"If yew two could generously look back at the hippo in the dress, smile and wave like we're old chums from college, then we can spare ourselves a little trouble, am I roight?"
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 7, 2010 11:56:14 GMT -8
Ben blinks but manages to wipe the expression of surprise off his face after just a moment. He nods to Arch and then gamely waves to Jane with a smile and a helpless shrug. Turning back to Arch, he slides over to offer him his half of the booth.
"Well then. This is almost a surprise." He grins, though a little warily.
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 7, 2010 16:14:03 GMT -8
(( no worries with the time thing. basically, no one said "i'll be getting up at x time" with the exception of arch having a wakeup call at 4. which would have been a ~10 1/2 11 hour nap. Ben said he was crashing and there was going to be an expiration date on Penn's stay, so I invented a Sleep roll (1d8+2). I handled Penn's sitch a little different since it was more a matter of when the actual tenants of the room were going to check in than how much rest she was getting (which I gave a 1d12). As the dice would have it, you were all up and about around the same time with about an hour span between the earliest riser (Penn, because that's what time her welcome became less warm) and Ben, who scored the best Sleep roll possible which only put hip at waking up at 3:30. So the offset had less to do with you guys and more to do with just being in separate places. It was going on the night before, too, it was just a little less obvious since 2 of you were in the same place and I finagled things the drop you all in the same place at the same time later. anyway, that's how you got parallaxed. ))
Jane gives Arch a nasty glare as he heads over to the table and drops a menu in front of him without saying a word, and continues what she was doing previously, which apparently involved inking lines across old register receipts and stashing them in the drawer under the till.
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 8, 2010 15:07:03 GMT -8
((*raises hand* Have I lost my mind or was there a post here earlier?))
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Post by e on Oct 8, 2010 15:21:46 GMT -8
Penn sits down across from Ben and laughs a little as he mentions their rhyming names.
She listens shrewdly between bites of peanutty-fudge ribbon pie (squidgy - yes, mouthwatering - no) and sips of what passes for tea in these parts. At one particularly bland swallow, she makes an awful face and mutters something that sounds strangely like "weasel piss".
"Yes, I'm afraid your British accent the other night gave you away a bit." She smiles and pauses a moment, fussing with her spoon.
"But somehow I find myself amused rather more than suspicious. And I certainly gave myself away as well. I usually work the inside. I'm not in Las Vegas for business, but I did meet an exceptionally, shall we say, interesting, pair of completely barmy wankers the other night at my show. I sing on occasion, you see. They invited me to a do in a day or so with some mate of theirs who likes jazz."
She takes another sip of tea, squinting one eye a bit at the awful taste. She would stop right now, but the caffeine headache is sure to catch her.
She looks up at Ben again, her gaze sharpens somehow. She wonders if she should mention the note from Dover and his mention of a job. She about made up her mind to go on and tell him about that too when someone comes up to them and implores them to wave at the hippo in the dress, by which she supposes as she glances over that he means the supposedly odd manager of the place.
She glances at Ben and notes he seems to recognize the newcomer and so she follows suit, turns and gives Jane a little familiar hairtoss and smile combination.
Penn works hard to control her curiosity and instead wait out a forthcoming explanation like any self-respecting lady would after a polite "Hello then."
She calmly looks back and forth between Ben and the other gent and sips her tea, which also happens to serve to cover an amused smile. The hippo comment was quite funny, really, and she really shouldn't laugh.
((Here is the magical appearing/disappearing post again. I was on the way out when I realized what I'd put up wasn't working right, so took it down and now am back and fixed it. So.... yeah. Ta-daa.))
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Post by brendur on Oct 11, 2010 6:51:30 GMT -8
He looks back to Jane and returns an old man smile and wave in response to her glare. The smile strips off as quick as paint to thinner as he sits down next to Ben, flipping though the menu and glaring at it with as much venom as Jane afforded him. He didn't like this menu, the food all looked too colorful in the pictures. Hell they should have forgone the pictures, and just listed what they had down the page. If it was anywhere near a good breakfast it would all come off the burner black and with a thin film of grease as garnish.
Blinking he looks up, and realizes the other two expect him to say something before he orders. So they hadn't made him out already, huh, there's a twist. He takes a moment, running a hand over his spiked hair while he composed himself.
"Yeah, hello. Guess I should start simple here, my names Archibald Dover, yew can call me Arch. No, this weren't planned, seems serendipity tis as fickle as she is promiscuous. Now I'm here to talk business, but before that two things have to happen. A cuppa black needs to be sittin in front of me, and someone's got to tell me that this fellow here..." He jerked a thumb in Ben's direction. "Is kosher, and not just lucky to be here."
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Post by e on Oct 11, 2010 9:32:53 GMT -8
Ahh! Archibald Dover... This could only be the man who sent that note. Serendipitous, indeed! She wonders how it is that he knows of her and she has never heard of him before last evening. Three grifters with naught on the front burner in the same town and in the same pub, err restaurant... an opportunity indeed! Penn's eyes turn upward for a split-second in appreciation to the powers that be.
As the fellow introducing himself as Archibald Dover begins speaking, Penn has to stifle yet another amused smirk behind her teacup at his remarkable resemblance to her dear old dodgy Uncle Rory, who never failed to horrify the ladies and charm all the kiddies at any family gathering.
"Arch, then. Well, err, yes, it's rather like that, I suppose. Really, Ben here and I just met up as well and it seems he and I, err, and you, I suppose, are all in the same lines of work. We were just discussing..."
She trails off, looking back at the food on the table.
"I wouldn't pin too much hope on the offerings here though. This tea is rather dreadful, but let's see what we can do, shall we?"
She leans out of the booth and waves over the waitress. "Ahh, Miss? Miss, we need some coffee and...?"
She smiles sweetly at Arch, inviting him to expand the order if desired.
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 11, 2010 14:45:52 GMT -8
"Well, I am somewhat lucky." ...Though not recently. He smiles to cover the bitterness of the thought.
"And all of us being here is something of an accident, but yeah, I'm 'in the biz', as they say. I was just actually talking with our friend here about the prospects of landing any work around here. So if you happen to have something I can be a part of.. Well let's say I'm more than interested.""
((have the brain worms today, but I'm doing my best...))
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 11, 2010 19:09:46 GMT -8
Up with the Keep Ben +2
Penn +1
Arch +2
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Post by brendur on Oct 12, 2010 7:18:21 GMT -8
"Fried toast, fried eggs, sausage...and why the hell not, lets be a tosser and try these grits I keep hearing about in the movies."
He nods, all he has to say on that topic. He folds up the menu smart-like, hunching forward on the table and rubbing his hands to bring circulation into the joints while he examines the two prospects at the table. The girl was still pretty as a picture, but not so much of a knockout that she couldn't fade into a crowd. The younger man looked the part of an everyman, which was good, you didn't want to work with the distinguishable ones, the ones who's faces stuck to memory.
Arch looks to Penn and twists his mouth to the side as he mulls something over, best to tell her, he didn't want something small coming back to bite him in the ass.
" Few years back a pair of gorillas came nancing into my shop back home, roughed up one oh my workers so bad the doctors thought he'd never hold a spanner again. When I ask them them why they're beatin the bits and tackle off my employees, they start wavin a picture oh a pretty girl lightin a cigarette. Says she bolted with a large stack oh quid. That'd be yew..." He points a finger at Penn "Now..fore you bolt from your seat have a care and listen. I didn't tell em noffin cause I didn't know yew, but that's how I spotted yew. Don't bother askin who it was after yew, he was a former client, that's all yew need know. Way I see's it, new shores, new clients and what happened in sunny ole Englatair can stay there.
When his coffee is set down in front of him, Arch grunts his thanks before loading the cup with enough sugar to power a small car. He takes a sip, licking his teeth in satisfaction.
"Now...down to business. As I'm sure yew've deduced, Ole Arch is gettin on in his evenin years, get about the time where a soul needs to sit back and enjoy the shat he's dodged from life. There's naught to be had on the mainland though, worked the fields over there too hard, so's I've come to the land of tea party bastards to net a few bits to pad the belly...until I turn belly up. I've got a lead on work, but as a warning it's knee deep in the Italian's shit."
Arch takes another sip of coffee, as if to wash the taste of the Mob out of his mouth.
"Fellow by the name of Anthony, smeggin guidos call him Tony course, word is he runs the games in town. I tried pavin the road for a bit of work wif him, but he didn't like the smell of me, must think I'm a yardie or worse, a journo." He shivers slightly and shakes his head. "I ain't got no chance tryin to so much as shake his hand without a foot in the door, I figure where an old bastard such as meself failed however, the next generation might flourish."
He tilts his cup of coffee towards Penn and Ben, indicating them.
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Post by e on Oct 12, 2010 8:36:31 GMT -8
Penn stares demurely at the surface of the table as Arch describes some vague details pertaining to a long past con she recalls was rather brilliant in. Goodly amount of cash in the bag on that job too. She finds herself wishing that the twins Rupert and Alasdair hadn't gone and gotten themselves detained at Her Majesty's pleasure after that job on the banker got bollocksed up.
When Arch finishes, she looks up at him, then over at Ben and shrugs.
"Yeh, well. The two of you'd understand better than most, I imagine. Sorry to hear about your worker. Time to time, err, these things happen. I appreciate you're keeping your gob shut on my account. Looks as though I owe you one."
Penn glances out the window at the street, grateful to be out of the sunlight and prying eyes for the time being. Only one thing for such a nasty feeling of being wanted by the nasty buggers from years ago... some cold hard cash to warm a girl's heart.
"Jolly good day for some work, right mates? See, I've got my eye on a fellow from the clubs, big hat in the music scene and he's got a show scheduled in a few days that I've got an invite to."
She pauses, then gives a wry smile.
"An invite as a promising singer, that is. Now I was thinking of pulling a bodge job myself but as the three of us are here, well, a long con is always better to fill one's pockets."
She swallows the last of her tea, making yet another grimace and pushes the cup away from her.
"So how's about the lot of us stir up something with this Jazz club fellow and his lackeys and maybe we'll get a whiff of this Anthony while we're at it, no? Now tell us Arch, what gen have you got on your man? Does he have a pulse on the club nightlife at all? I'd wager there'll be someone at the show that's in the big games here, even if Tony himself keeps apart."
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 12, 2010 10:21:34 GMT -8
Ben leans back in his seat and listens attentively to the respective speeches of this two table mates. This was beginning to look... Promising. This could do well to keep the spectre of the recent past off his back and off of his mind. He straightens a mental tie and waits for a lull in the conversation to interject himself.
"Well, this is my first full day here, and I just had to cut loose a goodly chunk of my social net, so where leads are concerned I'm about as useful as a hat full of busted assholes. But I'll get right to work fixing that soon's I can." He nods seriously. "If you can get me in at this jazz club, I can probably turn up something. Otherwise and in the meantime-" He lays a hand flat on the table then raises it. "I'll start at the bottom, head for the top. It does pay to have friends in low places, after all."
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Post by jazzs3quence on Oct 13, 2010 8:06:24 GMT -8
Jane returns with Arch's order -- which looks like a plate of varying hues of brown -- and refills everyone's coffee and tea. She arches an eyebrow and says in her husky voice "Will this be on three separate checks?"
(( Just as a recap, Penn, you have an invitation to see Davy's friend tomorrow night. Y'all can do whatever ye like until then. ))
Upkeep Ben +1XP
Penn +1XP
Arch +1XP
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 13, 2010 9:17:39 GMT -8
"No thanks, let me save you the hassle. I'll pick everyone up." He flashes a smile to Jane. "It's just drinks after all."
Turning back to his tablemates he folds his hands together and lays them on the table.
"So... How much do you think you can teach me about jazz in the time we've got? I'd like to be able to talk like an intelligent person at our little soirée."
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Post by brendur on Oct 14, 2010 6:53:27 GMT -8
Arch shoves half of an egg in his mouth chewing on it for a minute while he considers Penn's question, finally swallowing he nods.
"Wouldn't surprise me if the wop had an ear to the ground there, from what I've heard he runs all of his operations out the Harrah's. Betcha the man can't so much as turn out the lights without hearin about the entertainment scene."
He drums his fingers on the table for a moment, before he starts sawing away at a sausage.
"So far as juicy tid-bits I'm a bit dry. All I've got is a name and a few details, give me another day to rattle the tree though, and I can have somefin a bit more solid. I can also rake the muck for anything on your new friend if you've got a name."
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Post by e on Oct 14, 2010 20:19:25 GMT -8
Penn inclines her head in a show of gratitude to Ben as he offers to pay for the three of them.
"Emm. Jazz, errr, the genre, really, well, mentioning the classics will open any doors or knickers you fancy at a Jazz show. It's a bit of a hipster scene, really. Mention you're besotted by some long dead trombone wizard, but leave the name out and prattle on with, oh, you likely don't know him, he's a bit obscure. That kind of thing, see. Or you just quote some poetry from a half century ago. That usually turns up all flowers and rainbows. Oh, and wear something dark. Black, navy, the like. I'll fill you in, names and dates, philosophical movements, secret historical references, whatnot, much as you like." She smiles at Ben.
"Didn't catch the name the other night but I'll ask around town and I'll have it, easy peasy. I'll give you a bell in an hour or two with a first and last. If I turn up anything on Anthony I'll pass that along as well. I'd wager between us three we can rustle up something fit at the show tomorrow."
She pulls a pen out of her purse and writes a name and hour on two napkins, pushing one across the table to Ben and one to Arch. "The show tomorrow."
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Post by Gravedust on Oct 14, 2010 21:26:53 GMT -8
"Oh, no no... You wouldn't have heard of him. He's pretty obscure." Ben chuckles and grins. "That's a good one, I love that one. And poetry I can do like you wouldn't believe. As for jazz history, I don't want to eat up too much of your time but I'll hear everything you have to tell me. I got a good memory so it shouldn't take a lot of telling. Plus the more you talk the better I'll be able to nail down that accent of yours." He winks.
"Anyway.." He calls up his phone's status screen where his number is listed, then slides it to the center of the table. "Here's me. Just give me a ring and then I'll have yours."
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