[Metro] The Hollow

[celtois]

The Hollow
A Metropolis area/thread


Out-of-character information:
This thread is part of Metropolis, and therefore those posting here must abide by the Metropolis rules laid out in the Metropolis Rules and OOC chat thread. This particular thread has been designed, and hopefully succeeds, in filling the role of a tavern or inn, a meeting area where drinks can be dispensed. However, unlike the taverns or inns of Town or Acronym, this place has a somewhat more disreputable reputation. You're unlikely to find children here (although, you're rather unlikely to find children in the city), and you're somewhat more likely to find things that your mother really wouldn't want you getting into. Jobs can be got here, but you have to roleplay getting them with me, the thread creator. This is to stop the idea that any old psycho can just get a job.
Additional rules and guidelines for this thread in particular:
1. No controlling the NPCs to do anything that would be considered unlike them to do. You're permitted to make them serve your character(s) a drink, but no, let's say, make them get drunk and burn the place down. Of course, you could always make it clear your character is mind-controlling them into doing such as thing, for example, but you cannot make them do anything out of the ordinary, and make it seem as if they were doing it out of their own free will.
2. Players are allowed to make NPCs speak in whatever tone, colour, and font they so choose, though, in keeping with pre-established tradition, the female NPCs normally speak in orange, the males in gray. If I, the thread runner, am not online, NPCs can be played by anyone, and, often, even when I am online, you can still play NPCs.
3. Please try and keep posts longer than one or two lines of speech. Description is appreciated. One-or-two-liners that don't do much are OK once in a while - but not regularly.
4. The supposed lack of law here is not to be exploited. There is law here, for one thing, and anyone coming in here purely with the intention to kick ass may be sorely disappointed.
5. This thread's OP may occasionally update itself. Be warned! :smalltongue:

Tucked away to one side of a busy, but cramped, alleyway, lies a tower block, typical of its area, tall, thin, foreboding. However, once one has dragged their eyes away from the scorchmarks on the walls above, or the huge skylights that line the clouds, signalling the perimeter of the lockdown, they'd see an establishment filling in the first few floors of the building.

A small neon sign hangs, teeteringly from the flaking plaster, swinging this way and that, as, with a dull, pink light, that flickers yellow when darkness falls, that one is shortly to enter THE HOLLOW. And, indeed, below the sign, under a bunch of old posters reminding citizens and prisoners of Metropolis that they must always have their ID cards with them, a big metal door, that was probably black or brown, prior to its covering in angry, pink and purple graffiti, scrawls of slogans, and the occasional picture, waits for you to open it.

Once the door is opened, it leads down a dank and slightly smelly corridor, where broken glass, and thrown leftover party equipment cover the floor like carpets of flowers, before pushing out into the large, open-plan room that dominates the ground floor. There is a large bar and drinking area, to one side, capable of seating at least one hundred people, with tables, big and heavy, made of metal, seemingly desgined to withstand fights, partially sunken into the ground to prevent any unfortunate accidents. Barstools, painted in edgy claret-reds, and electric blues, spill in and about, generally not quite enough for the number of people that frequent The Hollow, one of the few places in the entire city that has a license to trade alcohol.

From the bar, one can also buy typical bar foodstuffs, like pork scratchings, and rehydrated peanuts, all foods to soak up alcohol, most disgusting, having been packaged and flown in from factories many lands away. A large selection of alcoholic drinks, along with a variety of other beverages, primarily there as mixers (but can be served alone) also hang, tantalisingly, on the wall behind the large chrome bar counter, almost crying out to be drunk with their odd colours, and even worse smells. Dotted across the bar counter, and its backing walls, are posters and flyers, government issued, letting people know that to pay, ID cards must be presented up front along with their money, and that (ab)use of any powers or weaponry could result in the authorities being called. However, a notice also points out that jobs as servers, cleaners, and bounces are available. A noticeboard also hangs, currently empty, where people can hang adverstisements, job offers, announcements of upcoming gigs, pleas for help, and the like.

And, indeed, somewhere out of its line of vision, well away from the bar area, is a large dancefloor, big and open, where the ceiling suddenly ramps up higher, making one feel like they're in a separate room. Huge, imposing speakers hang on the walls, and crystalline chandeliers, incoungrous relics from a pre-Emergency time, dangle effetely as well, and there's a high-risen stage, set into the ground, like so many other appliances into this place, for bands and DJs to perform. Behind the stage, there're several stairways and doors allowing for a quick escape should a brawl break out. In the evenings, one can typically expect there to always be a large crowd, dancing to oft-loud, rageing music, of a variety of genres - however, during the day, the mysterious owners of The Hollow do occasionally pay for slightly more low-key musicians to play there.

Near the dancefloor, and, indeed the entrance, there're stairs leading up (via a small, dingy, stinking stairwell), to another floor, where big, partially open toilet areas lurk (rows of stained and broken cubicles and sinks), and the occasional room lies, ready for hire, typically for no more than a day. Each room contains little more than a stained, broken bed and a window, looking out, over the sprawling lockdowned city. Occasionally, if one's lucky, someone will have left some money, clothes, or a phone under the bed. One person even found an ID card. Once.

Beneath the bar and dancefloor, there's a small parking area, for those residents of Metropolis who are lucky enough to possess some kind of vehicle, connected to a street a little way away by a single tunnel. The parking area's poorly lit, the bulbs constantly dying due to power shortages, and constant, shoddy repairs, and so the entire area makes for something dramatic, or just plain-scary - especially with the noxious smoke that often pours freely from the supposed ventilation shafts.
Now that you're here, have a drink and a dance! And do try and keep safe. Please?

[The Bushranger]

Behind the bar, working as a barmaid in the de rigeur low-cut top, cut-off jeans and apron that a seedy barmaid is supposed to wear, is a young redhead. Just old enough to work here (as if the owners would care if she wasn't), and looking distinctly on the sultry side, Dorothy has no need to worry about attracting tips, it seems.

Except from people who quip about her name with regards to the old entertainment 'The Wonderful Wizard'. They attack her knuckle sandwiches.

At the moment, though, she finishes dusting off the bar for the evening rush, sighs, and checks the clock.

[DoomITP]

Into the bar walks a young man of twenty three with blond hair and gray eyes. He has the look of one who has not had an easy time in the city.

[The Bushranger]

Who has?

"'Evenin', sugah." the sultry redhead drawls from behind the bar at spotting the first customer of the evening rush arrives. "Whats yer poison?"

[DoomITP]

Adam.

Poison? I haven't heard that one in quite some time. Anyways, whatever you can recommend as the one that does not end with me half asleep in my chair.

He says with an amused smile.

[The Bushranger]

"well, you've got your Penguin's Choice, Spud Lite, or Milliner's Special. Pick one," Dorothy (as her name tag, placed just so so that in order to read it you can do a little ogling as well, indicates) states, smirking a bit. "Or I can mix ya a mixtah of all three."

[DoomITP]

A mixture sounds good.

Adam says as he reads the name tag, though he does his best to maintain his decency. :smalltongue:

[The Bushranger]

Clearly whoever decided where name tags are to be placed was a bit of a perv IRL too. :smalltongue:

Anyway....

"Awright, one Triple Slammah, comin' right up."
And Dorothy turns to mix the drink, humming softly to herself as she does so, and swaying, just a bit.

[DoomITP]

In an attempt to avoid any odd conversation Adam looks down at his feet for a second.

What's your name?

[The Bushranger]

"Name's Dorothy, sugah," the redhead drawls, finshing the drink, which has a magnificent head of bubbles, and turns to slide it over. "An' yers, if you wanna tell me anyway?"

[DoomITP]

As Adam takes the drink he sets it to the side for a second.

My name is Adam.

[The Bushranger]

"Ah. That's a pretty interestin' name, darlin'. You got an Eve waitin' for ya at home?" Dorothy asks with a smirk.

[DoomITP]

Adam shakes his head but now has an amused look on his face.

No, not at the moment.

[The Bushranger]

"Tsk. Shame. Evey'body should have someone to have fun with."
Dorothy smirks, then goes back to rubbing down the bartop.

[DoomITP]

I suppose so.

Adam says as he drinks the drink with a tiny little bit of worry in the back of his head.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy falls quiet as she heads about tending to the NPCs who are coming in, who often prove to be a bit more open about admiring her assets than Adam. :smallamused:

[DoomITP]

Adam just shrugs and then goes back to his drink.

[celtois]

Tah da! A young lady dressed in a super suit, jumps through the door. It's generally bright and flashy with lots of blue and yellow and a lightning bolt on the front of it, it even has a nice matching mask. This was her moment, she'd finally found herself a city in which she could bust up some crime. Well the city had more of found her, it wasn't like she'd really wanted to move to the Metropolis. But the whole government round up of superheroes made it kind of hard to stop that. Still this was her big first day... Well maybe tomorrow was, tonight she just wanted to get drunk and celebrate finding a place or perhaps just forget where she had ended up. Tomorrow the evildoers would know the wrath of Lightning Lass, and the streets of Metropolis would be her domain she'd make them safe. Just like home! Without the- no.. she wasn't going to think about that. God she needed a drink

For now however she contents herself with finding a seat at the bar so she can order herself something to drink, she'll raise her hand to signal that she'd like a waiter were she is.

Complimentary description: She is young and fit, definitely the athletic sort and being all in costume and everything is quite mysterious and attractive. She stands about 5' 6 and has short blond hair.

Picture to go along with, ignore the red hair it's actually blonde

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/760/81270-110692-lightning-lass_medium.jpg

[Rae Artemi]

Along with the wave of PCs comes a skinny black cat who begins going around to the various tables trying to get any scraps of food that he can.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy looks up as Supergirl jumps through the door!
And sighs.
Although she does give that figure a rather appricative looking over, as she returns to the bar.

"Evenin, darlin'. What can I get for ya tonight?"

[DoomITP]

Adam looks to see who just walked in. He just shakes his head before he goes back to his drink.

[celtois]

Sighs... aww. That was hardly the best of things. Thought she did suppose that Superheroes and seedy bars weren't usually a good mix. "Don't worry I'm not here to make trouble. Just to get a drink like everyone else. If it's not too much to hope for could I get something strong. It's been a hard day." That all taken care of, she had time to wonder why the barmaid had been looking at her funny, it was almost as if she was looking at her the way boys usually did. Kinda weird but she certainly didn't mind the attention. She looks the barmaid over a little bit before her eyes focus on the pin, reading that name Dorothy, huh. She might admire the other womens figure a bit herself, while she looks at the pin. In no small part due to where it is placed, but hey it was a nice view the barmaid certainly was a the looker.. "Thank you,... Dorothy." She flashes her a cute little smile.

[ThirdEmperor]

John walks in, probably unnoticed. Scores of people here, and not even one will ever remember me. Makes ya want to either jump for joy or cry.

[The Bushranger]

"Don't worry darlin', I can getcha something strong. Ya want the strong tap or the House Special? It's stronger but will cost ya extra." Dorothy winks, a small smile on her face, and notes 'Supergirl's' appreciation with, well, appreciation. "And yer welcome, but I don't know yer name, sugah, even tho' ya already know mine."

[celtois]

"After today. I guess I'll have to go with the house special. By the end it should just be a blurry mess and I'll be ready to start again tomorrow." She smiles coyly, as she notices the winks. Sincerely hoping that she can afford whatever, extra was. "Well name tags will do that to a person, you can call me Caitlin, or Lightning Lass, whatever really floats your boat." She can't help but smirk as she remarks "Though if you ever end up playing the damsel in distress I'd suggest the second. From the look of you that's not something you ever play though." The last part is spoken rather softly. More of a footnote to the jesting comment that came before then a serious statement.

[ThirdEmperor]

John walks up to the bar and pulls out a couple dollars. Highest proof drink ya got.

[The Bushranger]

"Two House Specials, then." Dorothy nods in acknowledgement of John's order, nods, and pulls a 'Mountain Lightning' looking jug from under the counter, before turning back to 'Supergirl'. "Well, Ah'll call ya Cat, if ya don't mind," she says with a chuckle, as her player suddenly remembers the most important part of her accent. "An yeah, Ah can take care a' myself pretty good, Ah reckon. Thanks. Looks like you're pretty much t' same way though."

And she starts pouring two shot glasses.

[Rae Artemi]

At the word "Cat" Dorothy may find Trilby looking up at her with an expression that just screams "Food, please?"

[celtois]

"Sounds good to me." She watches rather eagerly as the alcohol is poured. She really just wanted to knock back the shot. Wipe her mind clean.. well cleaner. Or at least just not think for a little while. That would be a good start. "No Cat, works just fine for me." Once again she smiles, this time it's just generally sweetly. "Yeah I figure I can do just about the same, it's the protecting other people that's the hard part." She grimaces, and looks at the shot glass with longing.

[ThirdEmperor]

John takes his glass, downs it, and remembers why he doesn't drink. Ig. He says, and pulls two long plastic cords from his pockets. He proceeds to take a bottle of gasoline and a rag from another pocket, and applies the gasoline to the cords, taking a step back from the bar and lighting the ends with his worn and battered lighter, then begins to dance. He's pretty darn good at it too.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy gives Trilby a 'no animals served here' look in return. :smalltongue:

"That's good, then." Dorothy smiles, and slides the glasses to John and Cat. "ah guess you're into the protectin' people thing pretty good then, eh?"

[celtois]

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I do." A look of self loathing crosses her face. "Well try to do." She drowns the first shot an instant later. The alcohol making it's way to her brain, nice and quickly, and she relaxes quite a bit the unpleasant memories fading away. "Yeah, so what do I owe you for the drink?" She still seems pretty sober for what she just drank. Darn, strong liver, or maybe the drink just hasn't fully kicked in yet.

[The Bushranger]

John's dancing gets noted by the lithe, super-athletic redhead, and she nods in appreciation. Then turns back to the Lightning Lass. "Well, long as you try, that's good, ain't it? An' that depends. Ya wanna 'nother glass? Half price for t' second one." Dorothy smirks.

[celtois]

"I suppose. Not that it counts for much, when everyone you care about gets killed by the government." Grah... she looks rather furious. The drink obviously not doing enough to repress the memories. "Yeah, I'll take another one. Thanks."

[Rae Artemi]

Huh? No animals? Where does it say that? Trilby didn't see any signs or anything. Mean bartender lady just must not like cats. Trilby continues trying to get food from the NPCs, getting a scrap here and there, but not that much in the long run. He eventually leaves the bar, still hungry, off to find somewhere safe from the dogs to sleep for the night...

[The Bushranger]

"Yah, tell me 'bout it. One flash a' powahs and you're a non-person."
Dorothy sighs, and pours another glass...and gets out a second shot glass for herself.
"Second drinks on me, sugah."

[ThirdEmperor]

Count yourself lucky. You at least aren't a non-person for real. John says, still firedancing.

[celtois]

"Stupid government." She glares at her glass "You want to drink to that?" Another drinks downed. "Thanks by the way." She's starting to look somewhere between Really buzzed and tipsy at this point.
"Same thing happen to you then? Just like everyone else here,all of a sudden dragged away from your home."

Non-person in non-persony, and his statement goes unnoticed. :smalltongue:

[The Bushranger]

"Says who?" Dorothy answers John with a sigh, notting to Cat, grabbing her glass and downing it in complete agreement. "Pretty much. All Ah was doin' was protectin' mah sister...and they had t' take me away f'r it."

[ThirdEmperor]

You can still have relationships, talk to people, start a business, do things that actually mean something. You're just stuck in here, and trust me, you lucked out. John says, snapping the cords so that the fire goes out.

[celtois]

"Lucked out? Perhaps your right. But perhaps not. The pain of losing everyone you've ever loved to be dragged off to this. Place. I'd hardy call that, better then never having formed those relations in the first place." She hits the counter. "All I was doing was protecting my neighborhood from a local gang, and the police. Heard about it, found out my family was sheltering me and had them all killed before dragging me off to this place." She glares at the table. More then drunk enough to not really care that it's inanimate for now it's represents the government in her mind.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy's eyes widen at hearing the girl's story, and reaches out to put a hand on hers. "Gods...Ah'm sorry. That's...they killed them? Oh, gods, Ah'm so sorry..."
And she's completely sincere, too.

[DoomITP]

Adam has remained silent until this point.

I was working in a similar way. There were people who tried to get money from the neighbors. I'll just say that I scared them pretty badly. I was taken here for doing the job that they wouldn't.

[celtois]

"It's bloody stupid. Danger to society!? Their agents are the danger to bloody society. Them and their brutal methods." She glares even more furiously at the table. "Yeah, they killed them. Made national news. Had to make and example of them for harboring a super after all or should I say a mutant that's what they'd say. A freak, and danger." She wipes away a hot angry tear that had come rolling down her face. "I'm sure you are, but what can we do. I'm here now, and the best I can do is hope to keep everyone here safe. Like I couldn't do for.. them." She looks almost ashamed of the last fact.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy quickly fills another shot glass with the House Special and slides it down to Adam.

"Ah guess...well, free drinks for all of you," she says quietly, before sliding another glass to Cat. "You'll go good, dahlin. Yer strong, and trust me, we've all made mishtakes. But th' best y' can do is t' nevah forget th' people y' loved, and honor their mem'ry."

[celtois]

"Thanks." It isn't long before she's downed her third drink. "Yer nice ya know." She's starting to slur her words a little, definitely drunk. "Yeah, thas all y'a can do riht. Do ya bst an make m prowd" Looks like someone doesn't drink too much since she isn't doing that well at holding her alcohol.

[DoomITP]

Adam will walk right up to Cat.

Excuse me.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy decides that Lightning Lass has had her limit of White Lightning. :smalltongue:
"Why, thanks, darhlin'." She smiles. "Ah try mah best. Comes with t' bein' a bartender, y'know? Gotta listen and help folks. Y'r pretty nice too, though." She smiles and pats Cat's hand. "'Sides us gals gotta stick t'gether too, y'know?"

[celtois]

Most people would agree with that. She's probably had enough.
"S'yr job huh? Tanks. Yeah, shtick togeter sounds gud."She turns to Adam rather abruptly. "Huh!" Pulling off that classic surprised expression only drunk people can pull off.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy chuckles softly, smiles, then gives Adam a curious look, even as she leans forwards a bit over the bar.

Doing things like that brings in more tips, after all, she's found.

[DoomITP]

Please do not drink anymore.

Adam says with a strange voice.

[celtois]

"Err I guess that. Was sorta the idea. Maybe." The oddity of his voice making her sober up a little. Huh, she knew she was drunk. She knew that drinking more was a bad idea, and she wasn't thinking of having much more. Maybe another glass of so. But now she was pretty sure that that would be improbable This, guy was sort of creeping her out.

[The Bushranger]

"Don't worry, she won't," Dorothy says to Adam with a smile. "Now don't scare t' customers or Ah'll have t' charge ya for yer drink."

[DoomITP]

Adam winks in a silly manner at Dorothy.

I just make sure they don't die, if anything I'm helping business.

[The Bushranger]

"Ah'm better t' judge, Ah'm t' bartender after all, dahlin'."
Dorothy smirks, and leans forwards just a little more.

[DoomITP]

Well you never know.

Adam says with a similar smile on his face.

[celtois]

Weee, I need to go sleep. So before Caitlin can chime into this weird conversation she is om nomed by a deadtime ooze.

How did those get here. I was hoping that they'd been left behind in the nexus.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy sighs as Caitlin seems to pass out. "See? I knew just when t' cut her off."

[DoomITP]

I guess you did.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy, who is giving Adam a good look, suddenly straightens up, and winks. "T' bartender always knows best, dear. Rememb'r that."

[DoomITP]

Adam grins and then bows in a silly manner. :smalltongue:

Of course.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy chuckles, then starts washing the glasses and putting away the 'House Special' bottle.

[DoomITP]

Do you need any help?

[The Bushranger]

"Ah'm good, thanks. 'Sides, don't want Health an' Safety pokin' their nose in here f'r havin' a customer helpin," Dorothy says with a scowl.

[DoomITP]

That's a shame.

Adam says, looking a little bit annoyed.

[The Bushranger]

"Why, ya see somethin' ya like and wanna get a closer look?" Dorothy asks, smirking.

[DoomITP]

I would have used a less... Obvious phrase. That and I owe you one.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy winks.
"Ah like bluntness. An' Ah guess you can help, just keep an eye on t' door."

[DoomITP]

Alright.

Adam says before he moves quickly, cleaning with an efficiency that is almost creepy. Then again, considering what his power is, it's no wonder most people think he is kind of odd.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy chuckles, and while Adam doesn't get any more of a show, per se, he does get to admire her athletic build from closer range as many hands make short work of the cleaning.

[DoomITP]

Do you play any sports?

Adam says as he continues cleaning.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy chuckles, and nods.
"Running, swimming, an' Parkour. Ever heard a' it?"

[DoomITP]

Maybe once. I used to swim but that was before I was taken to this city.

[The Bushranger]

"It's also called Free Runnin'. Basically, Ah can use t' city streets, walls, planters, curbs, anythin' and use it f'r a surface t' run on, an' do it well. Nobody can catch me." Dorthy boasts, with a broad grin.

[DoomITP]

I'm sure. I was one of the fastest swimmers where I was swimming.

[The Bushranger]

"An' the boys nevah say they're not."
Dorothy sticks her tongue out at him, chuckles, and grabs the counter polish, scrubbing hard.

[DoomITP]

I'm willing to prove it.

[The Bushranger]

"Oh? Alright then. Know a good place with a pool?" Dorothy asks, smirking, clearly disbelieving.

[DoomITP]

I think I have an idea.

[The Bushranger]

"Oh? Lemme know when and where."
Dorothy finishes her cleaning, tosses away the rag, and grins.

[DoomITP]

Now.

Adam says as he opens the door.

[The Bushranger]

"Can't be now. Gotta watch t' bar. Tomorrow's good, though."

Plus Dorothy's player doesn't have much time left.

[DoomITP]

Well that's no fun.

[The Bushranger]

"Sorry. Can't lose my job, y'see."
Dorothy smirks.

[DoomITP]

Then, as I have nothing better to do. One more drink please.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy nods, and pours another - lighter - drink, before sliding it over to Adam.

[DoomITP]

Adam shall take the drink in question. He nods before taking a small sip.

[TruorTupnm]

Dr. Farcy (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9972546&postcount=14) enters the bar, a desperate look in his eyes. He glances around, shudders, then grabs a seat at the bar. He certainly looks Dorothy up and down. It is a clinical gaze, however, after which, he turns it on the drinks. "I hesitate to ask, in this prison, but have you got any particular home brews? We'll be here quite a while. I may as well settle in."

[The Bushranger]

"Got th' house special, darhlin," Dorothy drawls. "Ya can see what it did t' her." She motions to the passed-out Cat. "Shall Ah sign ya up f'r a glass, then?"

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy smirks at Lightning Lass and nods enthusiastically at Dorothy. "Please! The higher proof, the better."

[The Bushranger]

"Some places call it White Lightnin'. Ah think you'll find it proof enough."
Dorothy chuckles, produces a shot glass and the mug from under the counter, pours it, and slides it across to Farcy. "First one's on t' house tonight."

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy catches the glass, raises his eyebrows with surprise, narrows them with suspicion, then shrugs and takes a sip. "Mm! Ah! Not too horrible!" He nods towards the dance floor. "Who built this place, thinking that thing would get any use?"

[The Bushranger]

"Dunno. Guess it was someone afflicted by t' curse 'a eternal optimism," Dorothy says with a smirk and a dark chuckle. "Sometimes people get t' dance, Ah could easy but don't see t' point."

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy, "Urk!"s at the thought of being cursed with eternal optimism. Not much different from his own curse, actually, except that optimists are usually a lot more idiotic, in his opinion. He, "Hmph!"ed at the dance floor and turned back to the bar. He drank steadily and was soon asking for a refill. New to the city and looking for information, he fumbled at trying to casually ask, "So, er, how often do you get police in here? From what I heard before being shipped here, we mutants are naturally destructive."

[The Bushranger]

"Oh, so ya drunk the Kool-Aid, then." Dorothy's expression promptly turns a lot less friendly. "Listen, we're not no more destructive than anybody can be, so ya get that idea outa yer head right now or Ah'll have ya outa here on yer backside in nothin' flat. As for t' cops, we don't give 'em no reason more than they already have t' come in here, an' that's that. Capiche?"

[TruorTupnm]

He, "Uh..."s, not understanding the Kool-Aid reference, but he quickly sets himself into a hunched over and defensive posture, as she attempts to set him heterosexually-oriented. "Fine, capiche. Just keep the drinks coming. I'm just saying that's what they're saying."

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy still looks unamused, but refills the glass with a softer air. "Ya think Ah don't know that? Ah heard that an' lots more when they hauled mah butt in here f'r darin' t' protect mah sister from bullies." She sighs.

[TruorTupnm]

His eyes flash with anger, which he attempts to smother by clenching his eyes shut for a moment. "It's not what you did or didn't do, it's what..." He shakes his head and decides, "Nevermind. I'll drop it." He mutters into his drink, "Won't be surprised when we do start losing it, though."

[The Bushranger]

"Good idea. Ah don't like talkin' bout it, anyways. But ya could give a name, since everyone here is gonna know it sooner or latah," Dorothy quips, trying to lighten the mood.

[TruorTupnm]

Appreciating that she is attempting to lighten the mood, he nods with a reluctant smile of thanks. "Will they? Yes, I suppose they will." He straightens and quotes, "Doctor Francis Evan Farcy," He raises an eyebrow at her name tag and adds, "Dorothy, bartender. A grand meeting in Metropolis, city of mutants!"

[The Bushranger]

"City a' Broken Dreams, Ah call it. Fits better and suits my taste in sci-fi," Dorothy says, but smirks. "Go 'head, take a good look if ya want. Ah don't mind."
Plus, it gets her better tips.
"So, Doc, what they run you in for? Makin' the dead rise a'gin? Or jus' smackin' people with a cane while hopped up on Vicodin?"

[Beans]

Tabitha (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9968713&postcount=2) enters with Art and a kitty with a hat.

She's fairly clean for a homeless gal (she lives in a disused subway station with a still-working bathroom), smelling like old pennies. You know that smell.

[IcemanJRC]

Art walks in with his small entourage and leads them to the bar, sitting and waiting for Dorothy to finish her buisness as he grins at the prospect of a hot meal, as opposed to the usual food in a can. He sighs as he brushes his jacket off his leg and smoothes his wrinkled t-shirt.

[Gimliggamer]

James walks into The Hollow, a faint breeze wandering into the room as he does so. He glances around a few times before sitting down at a table nearby the entrance, just in case. He sits back and listens to the conversation.

[Rae Artemi]

Yeah, Trilby's back. He sees Dorothy as they are walking in. Oh no! It's the mean cat hating lady! he thinks. He changes his form so that he looks like a slightly different black cat, bigger ears, shorter tail, bigger body all around. Maybe with that and my hat she won't recognise me. He plods over to the table where they are sitting and hops into a chair.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy perks up as new customers come in, excusing herself from the Doc and stepping over torwards the newcomers' table.

As noted before, the standard barmaid's outfit at the Hollow includes a low-cut top, cut-off denim shorts, tennis shoes and an apron. Dorothy fills out this uniform rather well.

"Howdy y'all, good to see ya. What'll it be today? The House Special's popular t' drink and we got hot grits that have been on the hot plate f'r 'bout six hours or so today."

[Beans]

Sadly, Beans dedtiems.

[IcemanJRC]

Art smiles, oh god how he loved grits, and fried chicken. He should see if they have that... Or cornbread... In fact, he asks for all three. Cause he wants to eat like he did back home with Granpappy.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy smirks as well, and might just start allowing himself to eye her a bit less clinically. He gives her a mock bow. "You are quite the lady, Dorothy." As the newcomers file in, he runs his clinical gaze over them, raises an amused eyebrow at the cat, but turns back to Dorothy to answer, "No, nothing like that, thank God. It was discovered that I have healing abilities. I never would have used them to harm anyone." He clamps his hands around his glass and clams up, as the others get closer. He'll probably start muttering about how he should have become a world famous doctor, with such abilities, but nooo....

[Rae Artemi]

Trilby doesn't say anything, but his stomach grumbles at the mention of all those different kinds of food. Truthfully, he would have just cleaned out a bowl of peanuts if it meant he wasn't hungry anymore.

[The Bushranger]

"Good for you," Dorothy says, completely honestly, and gives Doc a wink. "Also, thanks, but ya ought to know Ah ain't no lady." And then she heads over - a bit of a sway in her steps - to the newcomers.

"You want t' fried chicken? Ah reckon Ah can getcha some a' that, it'll all be dark meat tho'. Anythin' else? White Lightnin' or watah, sugah?" she draw

[IcemanJRC]

Water, alcohol'll kill ya.
He smiles and goes to pet Trilby,
Thanks.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy watches Dorothy head to the table, but he shakes his head and chuckles to himself, thinking along the usual lines of, She's far too young for me, anyway! and, Let's just keep this professional. I'll likely frequent this bar. But his thoughts would be interrupted by a sudden sneer of disgust. What am I thinking?! It's just a mutant! Sickening things! Ruined my life!

He turned back to the bar and reminded himself that this was a place to relax. He eyed the drinks and glared at his glass, wishing to forget.

[Rae Artemi]

Trilby starts to pull away from the hand, but stops himself No. Mr. Music Man is a friend. He gave you food. It's alright, he's not going to hurt you. Trilby thinks, letting Art pet him.

[The Bushranger]

"Water'll kill you too, sugah, if ya drink enough a' it," Dorothy points out with an amused tone, before turning and going to sway her way back in the direction of the bar and the kitchen, giving Doc another wink, unknowing of his internal monologue.

[McBish]

Water, alcohol'll kill ya.
He smiles and goes to pet Trilby,
Thanks.

That statement makes the man sitting in his own little booth chuckle a bit.

What... no he has always been there. Dorthy will probably have recognized him as a regular, at least recently. He has been coming into this place and sitting at the same booth for about 5 days now. As soon as they open till they kick him out sitting around reading a book.

He stands about 5'6" with a very square chin and strong forehead. He has dark brown hair that is a bit shaggy. His clothes are pretty nice but simple. Jeans and a button down shirt.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy does indeed wave to the regular with a smile, appreciating the business. Presumably he tips well, too, and if he's had a regular order over those 5 or so days, she'll be getting that for him, by this point, without his even having to ask.

((And I HATE copypasta errors. >.<))

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy winces slightly and shifts in his seat uncomfortably, at the wink. He turns the electric blue stool he'd chosen around to size up the lone man who he must have missed, before. Not seeing anything particularly frightening, he notices that Art has a saxophone. Remembering him from the street, he calls out, "Have you tried getting a job here? You're having a drink, now, of course, but the place is quiet. Could use some performers."

[IcemanJRC]

(roflwaffles)

Art sighs,
Don't laugh at my Grandpappy's advice, alright? It hasn't steered me wrong yet, so I'm gonna keep following it, and Grandpappy says that alcohol will kill ya' so don't mess with it.
He pouts a bit as I deadtime for the neccasary sleep.

[The Bushranger]

((Copypasta fixed.))

Dorothy will bring out everybody's orders, then head behind the counter, and deadtime as well.

[McBish]

Yep he has a normal drink, a gin and tonic, refilled when he empties it, which isn't all that often. Obviously a sipper, but he loves the free pretzels. Plus he does indeed manage to tip pretty well.

He turns to Art. No offense meant. Just a bit of personal irony for me.

He nods to Dorthy when she brings him his drink.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy undeadtimes long enough to bring the man his drink, giving him a smile and nod, before returning to le temps du mort.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy checked out the food, as it was brought out, but, "Blech!"ed and probably would have asked Dorothy if she knew of any actual restaurants in town. He comes to bars to drink, not to pretend that their wings are awesome. He'd hang around and mayhaps munch on some bar nuts, until much later, when he finally starts to feel tipsy. He's a silly drunk and would reveal a bit of his own Southern accent, but he'd stumble his way home, before he did much to embarrass himself. He'd pay for his drinks and leave a hefty tip, since he loves good service and is used to needing to give people a reason to strive for it.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy, collecting the tip, smiles, and decides she likes the Doc despite his attitude. Hey, he tips good. And she has a few ideas on how to get even better tips...

[McBish]

And sure enough the regular guy is here again in his favorite booth. Once again reading a book.

[The Bushranger]

"Anything Ah can getcha, darlin?" Dorothy asks as she cleans tables nearby. "Or just another gin an' tonic for ya?"

[Project_Mayhem]

A shabby, weather-bitten man, wearing sunglasses, a leather jacket, and torn jeans slips into the bar. He's got a hunted look about him. Right ugly bastard too. He looks around quickly, before heading up to the bar, and speaking in a Scouse accent*

Eh love, pour us a whisky why dontcha?

*Thats Liverpool for you non-English. Think David Lister. Or the Beatles. Or the guys on Shameless.

[McBish]

A gin and tonic would be great, and maybe something to munch on if you got it, any food cooking in that kitchen today?

[The Bushranger]

"Sure do, we got leftover grits an' Ah think there's roast beast on t' menu today." Yes, she says 'beast'. It's clearly an euphemism for 'mystery meat'.

[Morty]

http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/1012/d16/1144/99e4236.png (http://tektek.org/avatar/41192477)
Lech steps into The Hollow and looks around. As good place as any to start looking for the kid. He sighs and goes to sit at one of the tables.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher drums his fingers impatiently on the bar

[McBish]

Roast beast sounds great thanks.

He glances over at the newcomers looking them over.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher catches and holds his eye, kind of aggressively. Not starting anything yet, just gauging his reaction

[McBish]

John just smiles at Chris in a somewhat friendly manner. He definitely doesn't seem intimidated at all, almost challenging Christopher. He slowly closes his book and sets it down.

[The Bushranger]

"Comin' right up."
Dorothy smiles, and then the svelte, lithe, exotic redhead hurries over to take Christopher's order. "Sorry about t' wait, sugah. What can I getcha?"

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher looks like his about to say something, when Dorothy returns

Whisky please love. Double.

((I can't work out her accent ...))

[Morty]

Lech looks through the drinks menu, frowning, and selects the first non-alcoholic thing he sees as well as something to eat, then waits for someone to take his order. He's have to rest up for a bit and then look about settling down.

[The Bushranger]

((It's supposed to be a thick Southern American accent. Think Rogue from X-Men.))

"Comin' right up." Dorothy shouts back the order for a roast-beast sandwich, then fixes up Chris' whiskey double on the double. Sliding the glass across to him with a smile (and, perhaps, a bit more of a leaning-forwards than strictly necessary...), then hurrying over to Lech. "Goodness things are gettin' busy heah. What can I getcha?"

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher leers on cue, and lights up a cigarette. He inhales, and then downs the whisky.

Gah. This is terrible. I hate this ****in' city

[Morty]

A chicken sandwich and a Coca Cola Zero, please, says the man. There's a slight hint of a foreign accent in his voice. Polish accent, to be specific, but it's up to their players if anyone can recognize it.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy looks to appreciate the leer, probably because she anticipates it converting into a tip in the near future. "Join t' club, dahlin'," she draws, and gives Lech a nod - and a bit of a 'oh geez' look. "Chicken sandwich Ah can do, but we ain't got Coke Zero, dear. We got normal Coke and we got Diet Coke, but no Zero."

[Project_Mayhem]

Diet's the same bloody stuff as Zero anyway

Christopher didn't tip. Jerk.

[Morty]

Diet Coke, then. Lech flinches when the smoke from Christopher's cigarette reaches him. Apart from that though, his expression remains deadpan.

[McBish]

John sips his gin and tonic with a smile, apparently he is in a good mood.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher grins when he sees Lech react to the smoke.

So, eh - your one o'them Eastern European types aren't yeh?

[The Bushranger]

In that case, once Dorothy discovers this, Christopher can expect non-tippable service until he does, and no more show than is normally shown by the admittedly skimpy barmaid's outfit. :smalltongue:

"Diet coke it is, then. Ah'll be right back with yer food."
And Dorothy hurries back to the kitchen on her long legs.

[Morty]

Lech turns around to face Cristopher, raising his eyebrows. I prefer the term "Central European". But yes, you might say so.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher shrugs. Whatever. He sits down opposite Lech.

'Me name's Chris. From Liverpool originally.

He's attempting to get Lech's measure as he talks. See if he's a mark or not.

[McBish]

John opens up his book but continues to listen in to the other conversations going on.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy returns after a minute or three, dropping off Lech's sandwich and Coke before heading over to John's table with his own beast, gin and tonic, and a sway in her hips.

[Morty]

Lech is... hard to read. He seems focused and unflinching. While he looks like a bookworm, someone experienced in reading people will know that he's not the type to take crap from anyone.
Lech. Lech Bojarski. From Poland, as you've noticed. "Bojarski" is pronounced as "Boyarski". He extends his hand to be shaken.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher shakes his hand. He has a strong grip. Very strong grip. Not that he's trying to hurt Lech or anything

So Lech. What brings you here? choice? Or armed guards?

[Morty]

There's a war going on back home. I decided to stay out of it. This place sounded like a good one to sit back and wait until it's over. Not the whole truth.

[Project_Mayhem]

Dunno why you'd think that. This whole place is a total crapheap. Only here myself cause I'm wanted outside.

Not true, but Christopher's a good liar

[Morty]

I know this place is a crapheap. But anywhere else, I might be found and send to the frontline, and I don't particularily want that. Not true either... but it's a good enough cover. And what you're wanted for, if I may ask?

[ThirdEmperor]

John (The orginal John, you accursed name stealer :smalltongue:) watches and listens, his powers making him seem like just another face, so unremarkable he's forgotten the moment you look away.

[Project_Mayhem]

Chris shrugs

Some bastard murdered me wife and kids. Pegged me for it. Coming here were me only real option.

[Morty]

Lech nods, wondering just how true Chris' story is. After all, he himself is, while not outright lying, omitting some important details.
Bastard. Are you one of the powereds?

[Project_Mayhem]

He shakes his head

Nah. Regular bloke me, just trying to get by and keep me head down without any ****in' super powers or whatever

Outright lie, but the one he's been building up to, so he probably seems convincing

[Morty]

Same here. Just a regular guy, no powers. Don't need them, anyway. He shrugs. Again wondering if the man is telling him the whole truth.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy heads over to John I, (:smalltongue:) in a fairly good mood and showing it. "Anything I can getcha, dahlin'?"

[ApeofLight]

A rugged looking man comes down the stairs. He looks like he might be in his forties or fifties due to the fact that his hair on his head and his beard and mustache are already starting to gray making his black hair more peppered color.

The man in question is currently wearing a military uniform with the sleeves torn off and a few large holes in the back and front. He keeps the top unbuttoned showing off the white shirt underneath that's in better condition than the rest of his clothes.

The large man takes a large drag on the cigar in his mouth and blows out the smoke as he looks around the bar before going over to a stool and taking a seat.

[Project_Mayhem]

Christopher eyes the newcomer as he walks in, before turning back to Lech

I'll drink to that. So what are doing while your here?

[The Bushranger]

John seeming to be deadtimed, Dorothy breezes her way over to the soldier-man with a smile, and her praticed "you want to tip me really good" moves.
"Why hey there, big fella. What can I getcha?"

[ApeofLight]

The soldier like man takes another drag on the cigar as he thinks for a second. " If you got some good whiskey that would be fine. If not then just get me a beer. " He says and takes the cigar from his mouth to tap the ash off the end.

[The Bushranger]

We got whiskey, but we've also got White Lightnin', first drink a' that's free if ya want it," Dorothy says with a smirk.

[ApeofLight]

" Sure, free drink sounds fine. " He says putting the cigar back in his mouth.

[Morty]

Christopher eyes the newcomer as he walks in, before turning back to Lech

I'll drink to that. So what are doing while your here?

Nothing yet. First I want to settle down and get to know about the place. Then I'll make plans.

[The Bushranger]

"Comin' right up, sugah."
Dorothy hurries behind the counter, produces the jug from under it, and pours a shot glass, which she slides across to the soldier, leaning forwards a fair bit.

[ApeofLight]

The soldier doesn't seem to notice the leaning forward but just takes the shot glass. He takes out the cigar in one hand and with the same one he picks up the shot glass and downs it.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy huffs, marks the soldier down as 'not expecting a large tip from him', and watches to see if he wants a second glass.

[ThirdEmperor]

And Dorothy heads over to John I, (:smalltongue:) in a fairly good mood and showing it. "Anything I can getcha, dahlin'?"

Something strong, preferably moonshine of some sort. I'm never gonna get used to this place, so I might as well forget I'm here. John I says, sighing. Not like I'm really living here anyway, couldn't exactly say I have a life at all.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy gives John a shot glass of White Lightnin' as well, before deadtiming.

[Project_Mayhem]

Nothing yet. First I want to settle down and get to know about the place. Then I'll make plans.

Christopher nods

Yeah. Probably wanna look before you leap and all of that. Anyway - I've got to head off. Nice chatting to ya

[McBish]

John keeps flipping through his book watching people and waiting for something interesting to happen.

He notices other John's ability and makes a game of staring at him then looking away and seeing how long he can hold the image of the mans face in his mind.

[Morty]

Lech nods back. Bye. It was nice to meet you.

[ThirdEmperor]

Depends. If he's focused upon it, perhaps ten minutes, if he has an average to slightly above average memory span, it's also worth noting that it's not only his face that is quickly forgotten. Look away for a second to long and you'll forget he's even there. John I does notice this, and walks over. Got a problem, or just ADD?

[McBish]

What can I say I like to challenge my mind. Your ability is pretty interesting. No offense meant.

John seems unashamed of his blatant staring.

[ThirdEmperor]

It's interesting to watch, I'll admit, but I doubt you'd find it all that interesting if it was you. Imagine having to remind your mother you exist, and then having to learn how to make your own food at age seven because she couldn't remember you long enough to make a godamm sandwich. John complains bitterly. He is, for the record, dressed in a bizarre and fashionless cross between punk and goth.

[McBish]

Sure sounds rough. Probably pretty annoying I would guess, even if it is sometimes useful. Surprised it kicked in that early. Most people don't start manifesting their powers that young.

[ThirdEmperor]

Annoying doesn't cover the half of it. It makes it impossible to have anything resembling a life. Not that you'll even remember this conversation.

[McBish]

John frowns thinking about that. True enough. I probably won't, so how do you cope with it, or do you?

[ThirdEmperor]

Alcohol, for one. I tried talking to some shrinks, but heck, they couldn't even remember what I said last time, so they weren't good for much but anti-depressants. Mainly, I try and make myself as loud and obnoxious as possible, hence the terrible haircut and duds. I rob a bank every week or two, that usually gets me enough attention that people remember me for a bit, but mainly? Alcohol.

[McBish]

Hm... not sure how I feel about you going around robbing banks. So you drink away your problems. Ever think about doing something constructive with your power, maybe try and help people?

[ThirdEmperor]

Oh, I don't take anything. I always make sure to let someone trigger the alarm, then duck out just before I can steal anything. Good clean family fun. Besides, what can I actually do with my powers? I've tried causing havoc for the ******* that put us here, but.... Let's just say that didn't work out.

[McBish]

I don't know, I guess it would depend on the situation. I'm sure given some time you could think of something.

[ThirdEmperor]

Look, my power is god for one thing. Crime. It's not like I can heal people, or throw lasers at the bad guys. I can just sit in a corner and watch life pass me by.

[McBish]

Maybe you could commit crime against people who should be inconvenienced. Crime lords drug dealers stuff like that. Robin hood stuff, you know what I mean.

[ThirdEmperor]

Yeah. And the changes of me getting the kind of book deal he did? Not even slim to none, anorexic to none. I'll think about it though.

[McBish]

You think that Robin Hood got a book deal? I find it far more likely that he ended up hanging from a tree, or with a sword to the cut.

John shrugs hoping he planted a good idea in there.

[ThirdEmperor]

Yeah, probably, but it isn't how he died that mattered, is it? It's the fact that at least forty or so people out of a hundred could tell you who he is, ain't it? What all the great writers droned on about, legacy. It's not what you did, who you were, or how you went. It's how people remember you that lives on. John says, finishing off his drink. And if I'm lucky, someone will mourn me for all of ten seconds before forgetting what they were upset about.

[McBish]

The man shrugs. Sometimes it is better to be forgotten trust me, not everything is about legacy. Who cares about who writes what can't you just be happy with how you live your life?

[ApeofLight]

Dorothy huffs, marks the soldier down as 'not expecting a large tip from him', and watches to see if he wants a second glass.

The man clad in military green turns the shot glass around in his hand for a second before nodding. " Yeah, give me another shot of it. Guessing the second isn't free? " He says and reaches for one of his pockets.

[The Bushranger]

"Nope. Ya get t' appetizer, then ya gotta pay for t' main course." Dorothy grins, and starts pouring a second shot glass for the soldier. "Dun have t' pay 'till afterwards, 'though there's trouble if ya can't pay up then."

[TruorTupnm]

After a disturbingly quiet day of walking around the city, Dr. Farcy takes his time with making sure that he isn't being watched, then places a bottle filled with his urine in the parking area beneath The Hollow. He enters the bar and glances furtively around at all of the customers, then takes some time to wander around a bit, since he had been more focused on drinking, the last time he was here. He checks out the noticeboard for anything interesting, then heads up the stairs to see about hiding a small vial of his blood somewhere. Finally, he takes the electric blue stool at the bar that he'd taken before, where he orders a White Lightning.

[The Bushranger]

((...TMI? >.<))

Dorothy waves at him with a grin, and slides a shot glass down to him.
"Welcome back, Doc. Gonna be gettin anything more than that tonight?" she asks with a smirk.

[ApeofLight]

" Then just give me this another shot and then a beer. " The soldier says and takes out his cigar to tap some of the ash off the end again. The cigar was almost a stub that would be put out soon.

[The Bushranger]

"You got it." Dorothy nods. "You want Penguin Ice, Spud Light or Milliner's Draft?"

[TruorTupnm]

((He hopes that everyone else will be grossed out by them and just ignore them, as well. He's been scattering the stuff all over the city. They're backup memories, just in case his mutant amnesia catches him. Anybody could find some and get rid of them. If for some reason, they got any on them, it'd do his healing thing for them. Hey, not all powers get to be glamorous.))

Farcy catches the glass, tilts his head to the side, quizzically, and wonders, Is a smirk her favorite expression? Oh. It's just a standard work thing, for her. He downs the shot, then answers, "Oh, most probably. I don't have work for a couple of days, yet." His eyes dart to his medical bag, which he would have tossed on the stool beside him. He pats the bag reassuringly and reminds himself that he'd better not get too drunk, tonight, and forget it.

At one point, he'll nod at the sergeant, not sure if he's a cop to be avoided or a crazy mutant to be avoided.

[ApeofLight]

" Milliner's Draft. " The soldier says and takes the last drag on the cigar and blows out a smoke cloud towards the ceiling before putting the thing out in an ash tray.

[The Bushranger]

((Ahh.))

"One M.D., coming right up." Dorothy chuckles, and fixes the solider's drink before turning back to Farcy. "Ah see. Medical work, then, Ah take it?" she asks, leaning just so on the counter. "Need another?"

[ApeofLight]

The sergeant takes the shot glass and turns it upside as he waits for his drink.

[The Bushranger]

And as the draft finishes filling the drink, Dorothy slides it artfully down the counter to the soldier, not even looking, merely flicking her wrist.

It stops perfectly in front of him.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy nods and makes one of those circular, "Keep 'em comin'," gestures. He probably says that aloud, too, then fingers his white doctor's coat and places a hand on the bag. "Yes, I'll be working at Saint Charles. Not as good as my last hospital, of course, but a tremendous place for mutant research, at least."

Glancing at the sergeant again, he ventures, "I suppose you get all kinds, here, but I don't live too far away. You did say that you don't get too much trouble, didn't you?"

[ApeofLight]

Sarge takes notice of the look and comment. " Shut up Doc. I know the rules and I follow by them. " He says and takes a sip of the draft.

[DoomITP]

Adam is now watching the people around the room from over his shoulder.

I wonder...

[The Bushranger]

"Nope. People who cause trouble don't come back, and that ain't 'cause 'a no cops." Dorothy smirks again, a little darker smirk this time.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy blinks and thinks, Testiness is understandable, here. I wonder if they're putting something in the water to ensure that it doesn't go beyond that? He raises his hands placatingly and spouts, mostly assuming that the guy is a cop, "No offense intended, of course. You're not swinging a gun around asking for I. D.'s, so I have no problem with you. In particular."

He raises an eyebrow at Dorothy's last comment, then gives the place another look, wondering what kind of horrible mutants they have as bouncers, here.

[ApeofLight]

" Why would I go around waving a gun asking for I.Ds? You think I'm a cop or somethin'? " Sarge says taking a large swish of his beer before pulling out a cigar and a lighter. He bites off the end of the cigar and spits it into the ash tray before lighting it up.

[IcemanJRC]

Art jump up to the bar and smiles after finishing his dinner,
Who's waving guns around??

[DoomITP]

Adam moves to sit near Farcy.

Hello.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy, noticing Farcy's look around, just keeps smirking as his scan reveals no bouncers at all.

"Looking for the bouncers? You called her 'some lady' last night."

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy grimaces with distaste at the spitting of the cigar bit, but he shrugs and bobs his head as an apology. "Well, you seem to have the air of one. Or were you a soldier somewhere, before they sent you here? Ah, well. My apologies. I was told to watch myself around the police force here."

He growls with annoyance at Art's question, sorry that he mentioned guns, if it'd make these mutants excitable.

When Adam sits nearby, he raises a perplexed eyebrow. "Ah, hello? Do I have your seat or something?"

Ah, and, to edit, Farcy whips his head back to Dorothy and barks a laugh which is quickly cut off and replaced with a small, "Oh," when he considers that this is Metropolis. He might start to look a bit nervous, sipping his drink.

[DoomITP]

Oh, no. What's your name?

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy winks at Farcy, and turns to scrub the countertop, bending over to get a bottle of cleaning fluid.

She enjoys working for tips...

[TruorTupnm]

Not feeling any less nervous, he turns back to Adam and attempts to sound casual. "Glad to hear it. I am Doctor Farcy. Ah, may I help you?"

[ApeofLight]

Sarge takes another drag on his cigar and even blows a smoke ring before he takes his beer and starts to down the rest of it.

[DoomITP]

Adam shakes his head, amused at Dorothy's attempts to get tips. :smalltongue:

My name is Adam. Yes actually, what do you do?

[TruorTupnm]

Seeing the sergeant blow a smoke ring (well, who doesn't think that those are cool?), he wishes that he was talking to him, instead. This Adam character was somewhat disconcerting. Of course, he reasoned, They're all a bunch of mutants. They're all a little disconcerting. This one looks harmless enough. He indicated his white doctor's coat and bag again. "I fix people. Do you know Saint Charles? That's where you'll find me."

[DoomITP]

Adam can seem odd to some people.

Interesting, now how would a doctor like yourself end up here?

[TruorTupnm]

Having calmed down a bit and regained his confidence, Farcy gulped his drink then shook the empty glass. "Why else? Plus, I live nearby, anyway. Why, you wouldn't be trying to advertise for some other bar, would you?" Realizing a moment later that the guy might have actually been asking why he was in Metropolis, he added, dryly, "Oh, and I'm a horrible mutant. Doomed to wreak havoc with healing powers, apparently." He would go on, but he remembered that such talk was discouraged, here, so he just mumbled a bit more of a rant to himself.

[DoomITP]

For some reason, I think you are being sarcastic.

[TruorTupnm]

He, "Hmmm..."s, then states, "No, I wasn't. Well, I suppose that it does sound a little far-fetched that healing powers could wreak much havoc, but there actually are a few possibilities, and," He waves his arms to include everyone. "I'm sure that we've all been informed that we're a danger to society." He flinches, although he is curious about what Dorothy could be capable of, and hastily adds, "We're just talking! He asked, I answered! No problems."

[ApeofLight]

Sarge finishes his drink and puts the glass down on the table. " So, how much for the drinks then? " He says reaching for his wallet again.

[TruorTupnm]

Since I am done for the night, I'll just type that Farcy would be unopposed to sticking around for a while, yet. On his way out, he'll pay and hand over his usual tip. He'll hesitate by the noticeboard, then post this: Wanted: A house to buy or rent. Any size, any location. Must be well-maintained. A car. Any make, any model. Know any good mechanics to go with it? A cat. Any type, any age. Call [Insert Number Here] anytime.

[McBish]

Jack eyes the complaining doctor carefully, especially after he mentions research on mutants.

But for now he will only sit in his booth drinking his gin and tonic and reading his book.

[ApeofLight]

Sarge stands up and places the money for his drinks on the counter with an average tip before heading towards the door.

[Shyftir]

Johan had just gotten off from his delivery job and was on his way to the Holl.. nope he was there.

The speedster slipped into the doorway trying very hard to move at normal speeds. He was getting better at it and only seemed to be in a a bit of a hurry as he set the pipe he kept with himself for self-defense down in a dedicated "weapons check" space. He strolled over to the bar and ordered a fairly large drink and the "largest-by-mass" food item on the menu.

He watched the dancers while he waited and envied them because it was impossible for him to keep time to such a slow rhythm. After a few seconds he received his food and looked for a place to sit. His walk toward the tables might have been called "sprightly" by most observers but was actually a slow stroll for the owner and sole employee of the "Mach 1 Courier Service."

[The Bushranger]

The dancers, after a few minutes, start looking static-y. :smalleek:
Oh...they're holograms. Looks like the projector's on the fritz.
Again.

Dorothy, meanwhile, hurries out with a smile to take the newcomer's order.
Description available if you haven't read it earlier in the thread. :smalltongue:

[McBish]

John should really get a hobby or something. Maybe spend some time outside not drinking. But at least he can hold his liqueur.

[Shyftir]

The dancers, after a few minutes, start looking static-y. :smalleek:
Oh...they're holograms. Looks like the projector's on the fritz.
Again.

Dorothy, meanwhile, hurries out with a smile to take the newcomer's order.
Description available if you haven't read it earlier in the thread. :smalltongue:

HeyRed. I'dlike somefood anythingwith lotsocarbs. Oanda half-pitcher of'Light. His words come out in a rush but they are intelligible with a bit of concentration. He pauses and makes a downward gesture with both hands at his diaphragm then speaks again. "How is your night going?"

[The Bushranger]

"Well, it's doin' alright," Dorothy drawls, smiling. "Ya want t' House Special then, Ah guess? Ah'll get that right out for ya."

And she turns to sway her way back to the kitchen area to fetch the order, and a refill for John.

[Shyftir]

To Johan, Dorothy's sway back to the back is a drawn out process and he watches it for a bit before looking around the bar. To the average viewer, he just didn't look away very quickly.

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy's mannerism and outfit tend to draw tips, and she does her best to accentuate it, too.

After a few minutes she returns with a smile, a plateful of "gut bomb" like food, and a mug of Lite.

[Shyftir]

Johan smiles back and drops a handful of money on the counter, it's easily enough to cover quite a bit of food. Dorothy would know that any leftover when he left the Hollow would be hers. His business pays well when it pays at all. "ThankYou, Red." He says only slightly rushed sounding. Truthfully, he doesn't know here real name just heard somebody call her "Red" once. He speaks English well but with a clear accent, those who would know recognize it as a Danish accent.

((Disclaimer, I know very little about Denmark. So if my character doesn't act Danish, I'm sorry.))

[McBish]

John politely nods to Dorthy as he gets him her drink.

Thanks.

He looks over at Johan noticing his quick movements and fast talk and smiles.

[The Bushranger]

"You're welcome, sugah," Dorothy says to John with a smile, then when Johan calls her Red she chuckles, pointing at her nametag. And leaning forwards a little to allow a closer look... "Name's Dorothy, dahlin'. Whats yours?"

[Shyftir]

"Hi! Mynames Johan. Friends callme Han." The courier smiles back at the other man at the bar and waves casually. Or at least he tries to wave casually. John and Dorothy probably just sees the hand flash up and down quickly.

[The Bushranger]

"Looks like you're fast with your hands, too..." Dorothy almost purrs, giving Johan a wink. "Girls like that. It's good to meetcha, Han."

[McBish]

Hey there Han nice to meet you, I'm John. You seem to be pretty quick all around.

He smiles at Dorothy's comment.

[Diva De]

A petite redhead (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9986530&postcount=23) comes into the Hollow and steps up to the bar. Speaking to the bartender, she appears to pass them a stack of business cards. Smiling faintly, she shakes her head at something he says, then again...then she nods. A glass of sweet iced tea is handed to her, and payment is waved off. Nodding her thanks, she makes her way to a table against the wall and pulls out a leather-bound book and quill. Sipping her drink, she sets it down to write, occasionally looking up to people-watch.

[The Bushranger]

((Hi De! ^_^))

After a few minutes, Dorothy, the athletic, exotic redheaded waitress and part-time bartender, comes over to the newcomer's table.
"G'evening, sugah. Anything Ah can getcha t' go along with that drink a' yers?" she asks with a smile.

[Shyftir]

"Actually, mostgirls say I'm toofast." He hangs his head for a split second then brightens back up and says carefully. "Everything goes slow for me, but fast for others. I even look older than I am, but I'm told my personality is a young one." He begins to laugh softly after that. It's only slightly high-pitched and therefore not annoying just odd.

[Diva De]

((Haiiiiiiii BR.

Hmmm...gonna have to do something about these text colors. I guess since I'm the newbie I'll change mine.))

The redhead smiles politely as she quickly closes her book, quill marking her place. Maybe some information. I just arrived in town, and I am just curious to know the general...state...of the City. What the papers do not tell, of course. She has a slight accent and speaks very properly. Holding out a hand, she smiles more genuinely. Penelope Danvers - I have been hired to see to the mental well-being of the residents here.

[The Bushranger]

((Well, nothing wrong with having two indigo. There's only so many colors after all...))

"Aw, really? Well, what can Ah say? Ah like a fella who is fast on his feet." she winks. And a younger personality is cool too. Ah, 'scuse me willya? Gotta new customer."

THEN Dorothy skips over to wait on the newcomer. :smalltongue:

"Ya wanna know all that? Ah can give it to ya in an nutshell," Dorothy says, accepting the hand and shaking it with a friendly, yet tight smile. "Ah'm Dorothy Williams. And Ah can tell ya, the way things are 'round here is like 1984 run a'muck or somethin'."

[McBish]

John chuckles a bit at the young mans statement of being too quick trying his best to be good-natured about it though.

Meanwhile a young man with a cane limps into the Hollow. And he doesn't look like he is in good shape. He has a freshly forming black eye, a bloody nose and his clothes are dirty and torn. Looks like he has gotten mugged recently.

[Diva De]

((Two redheads who speak in indigo? Yeah, not so much. Changed to Dark Orchid, and a different font.))

Dorothy, a pleasure. And I...noticed...lots of security measures on my way in. I imagine that is why no one has been to the office yet or offered to help me move in. Penelope's brow knits slightly. I do not suppose it changes matters any that the City is footing the bill for any and all clients I receive? No, I feel that plays in more with the paranoia. Interesting. Opening her book to a new page, she jots a quick note, then closes it again. Well, the reason I was hired is that my professionalism is unquestionable, as are my confidentiality agreements. I accepted this job only because of the challenge and because Metropolis agreed to accept my terms - no prying. No information on what I learn. My interest is in helping people - and research, of course. We do love our research. Smiling, the frown disappears from her face. Removing her glasses to polish the lenses on her skirt, Penelope looks up at Dorothy with blue eyes the color of sapphires. I wonder if you could put in a good word for me with others? Or - if you prefer - come check my office for yourself. I assure you it contains no recording or monitoring equipment of any type.

[Shyftir]

Johan is torn. He feels like he is making a friend in John, but the injured young man clearly could use some help. and he overhears Penelope mention a need for help moving in. He agonizes for a long while about what to do, (Those paying attention see him bite his lip for almost a whole second.) then he moves into action.

"ExcusemeJohn." He speaks rapidly and is standing next to Dorothy and Penelope the next moment. "Iwillhelpyoumoveyourthings! Butgiveme amoment, please." And then the next moment he is going to the aid of the injured man. "Whathappened toyou doyouneed medicahelp?" He still speaks rapidly but his actions slow down and he tries to help the man walk to the nearest chair. (He still seems to be acting very quickly to others but he feels like he's moving at a snails pace.)

[The Bushranger]

((sorry, my connection hiccuped))

"Oh, trust me, they'll pry. They'll tell ya what ya wanna hear, but they'll find a way t' get it ALL from ya whether ya want 'em too or not," Dorothy says darkly, her own greenish-brown eyes showing her hurt. "Ah might take ya up on that t' come see t' place, though. Gal like you needs somebody t' make sure t' lil' lost lamb doesn't get chewed up by t' wolves. Or turned inta one."

[Diva De]

Penelope calls after the remarkably fast man. I have already completed moving, but thank you for the offer. Perhaps you could come by for...oh. She sees the state of the man who has come in and swallows hard. I apologize - blood makes me...feel unwell. But I will be alright. Noting Dorothy's hurt look, she resists the urge to make a note in the book, and instead her smile goes icy. This simply will not be the case, Miss Williams. You see, Metropolis came to me. Have you ever heard the saying "loose lips sink ships"? Because they certainly do. And if word were leaked about some of the things going on here, well, that would be...let us say bad for them. So, since I cannot be moved by any force upon this earth to break my agreements, my presence was requested.

Dorothy may get the sense that Penelope is all business, and very good at it. She might also get the sense that should she turn off her professionalism, she could ruin lives. The woman holds sway over someone - or ones - very important.