12/12/2004

11:57 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (19% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.43 and rising, and the relative humidity is 93 percent. The dewpoint is 46 degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)

[Somewhere in a club on the west side of south St. Claire]

A couple of days after the fact that Alicia's fist smashed a bruise onto Cowboy's otherwise youthful looking face, he and his friends are Still going out and partying. It is, after all, still the weekend and Wayne doesn't want to look uncool. Or rather, he still does, but the booze he's having this time is to drown away the occassional jab and jeer of his posse about the events from before. One might say that he hasn't actually touched a girl since, but given his reputation... it's awfully hard to say.

Making her way into the club is Alicia. Deciding to go out and celebrate her birthday a day late. She starts to move her body in time with the music, striding with a sway to her hips, eyes narrowing a bit coyly.

Though Wayne tonight still sports a trademark hat of his, this one is pointedly pulled down at a certain angle to block his bruise. He hunches over his drink at the booth where a couple of pals are laughing and chatting. On the dance floor, quite a few people are still out but with slightly fewer numbers for a Sunday. Patrons around the galliard visibly move once more, subtlely but surely pushed away by the Curse. Then, at the booth, one of the guys scoping out the crowd for potential targets spots the galliard and squints through the flashing lights and music. "Hey, isn't that that one chick?"

Rocking her body along with the music, she throws her arms up in the air, spinning around once, then scooting up to a lonely guy who looks decent enough, flashing him a quirky grin. She is wearing Cowboy's hat that she stole the other night, her hair flopped about her shoulders. Tonight she is wearing a knee length black skirt and a matching haltertop. Check out the abs!

And whoa check out what else! The lonely guy grins falteringly, surprised to see he's been picked out, and yet delighted. He proves to actually be decent at dancing, like he's done these scenes before. Hands tracing the outline of the galliard, no doubt he likes what he sees.

Wayne looks up at the comment from his pal, gazing in the pointed direction with head tilted to listen on where specifically to look. Of course, with the galliard wearing his nice ivory cowboy hat, he frowns even less pleased than before. Standing up from the table with a tug of the black hat down to shield his eyes, the Cowboy says something to his friends and starts to make his way down to the dance floor.

The Galliard returns the affection in kind as she dances, obviously being the professional of the two. She moves fluidly with a poetic, feral grace, rocking her hips up against his, fingers tracing patterns over his chest as she makes small talk with him, catching his eyes now and then. She moves like a cat, finding each beat and moving along with it easily. If she notices the 'pose' coming, she doesn't bother to glance their way. Right now she is having fun. Why ruin it?

Rather, the Posse doesn't back up Wayne this time either. Cowboy is going it lone, with black hat weaving back and forth around couples and groups on the floor. The guy Licia dances with grins and chats with her eagerly, clearly drinking in the raw energy that radiates from her. He seems oblivious to Wayne's approach, until the other guy is close enough to be a 'threat' to his catch. Of course, the guy at first tries the shunting approach, circling around Alicia so that he puts himself between her and Cowboy. And again he smiles, shifting and moving with her with a bit less expertise.

When the man moves, Alicia turns herself in time, giving him a slight grin, then drops it soon as she sees Cowboy coming up close. She continues to dance, but with a bit less enthusiasm as she stares at him. She doesn't say a word, instead smirking and turning herself back around to face her partner, giving him a tap to the stomach.

That smirk is definitely seen, but sure as heck not appreciated. The guy though, seems only wrapped up in Alicia and her dance with him. "Y'wanna get something to drink?" he asks her, even though he seems quite content on remaining between her and Wayne. At least, until Wayne speaks up. "No, She Doesn't. I gotta have a chat with your Girlfriend here." He pushes his way up and turns to face the guy, eye to eye.

Poor Wayne, this just doesn't seem to be his day. "Excuse me limpdick." The Galliard says with a growl in her throat. "I think I do want a drink. You need to get the stepping before I kill you." The threat is said with venom in her face as she reaches past, grabbing the hand of her dancer, starting to yank him towards the bar. "Don't fuck with me, cowgirl."

The guy getting tugged along doesn't seem to object. In fact, he gloats with a smirk at the loser of this, and in a gesture of territory looks back over his shoulder with a Look as he is tugged along. Wayne eyewidens with an expression of incredulity, before wiping a fleck of sweat from his smarting bruised face. That fuckin' bitch, he must be thinking, before he adjusts his hat and pursues - at a distance. When Ali and the guy reach the bar, he actually introduces himself after calling for a couple of beers, "I'm Kevin. You know that guy?"

"Ah'm Arizona. Yeah. I know him. Thats Limpdick." Alicia says, leaning against the bar some, tracing a finger up and down his chest. "Its my birthday by the way." She clicks her tongue ring against her teeth, eyeballing Wayne as he starts to approach. Leaning over, she begins to scratch at the back of her knee, subtelly letting her fingers dip down to her boot, grasping something, then straightening up, her hand closed in a fist. "He's just a fanboy."

"Yea? Well hey... Happy Birthday, Arizona. You a model or something?" Kevin asks, clearly acknowledging the Gaian's good looks, and seemingly believing her story about Limpdick and his fanboy'ism. Wayne continues to come closer, but with a little hesitance to interrupt at first. Like a shark circling closer, exploring the water, he sees to be testing the atmosphere and hunting for the right time to make a bolder approach.

"Model? No. I'm a singer actually." Alicia says with a chuckle as she gazes up at him, wettening her lips. Boy does she love to flirt. "Maybe later tonight I can sing something for ya." She continues to give Wayne a bit of slight attention, but doesn't stare. Just subtle glances over now and then. "How 'bout you? Whatcha do?" She asks him.

"Oh, I work on cars," Kevin replies, pleased at the offer. "I'd love to hear it. You in a band? Or go to SCCU?" Wayne's finally gotten the nerve to interrupt, and proceeds up to the two. He places a hand between them, and looks Kevin clear in the eyes, even if one of his is swollen from bruising. "Like I said. I gotta have a chat with Arizona here," he says firmly. Kevin, however, frowns at the intrusion. Patience though, is his virtue as Kevin places his beer back on the bar and stands up from the stool. "Look man, she's not interested in you. If you gotta problem with that you leave it at the door. Now get lost."

"Look." Alicia says with a growl. "I'm enjoying my night with Kevin here. Why don't you fucking get lost and hang out with your boyfriends over there? You want me to give your 'other' eye a make over?" She says with a snarl in her throat. She slaps his hand down as its put between them, giving him a quick shove back. "Bartender! This prick won't stop soliciting me for sex! I'm not a god damn hooker!"

Kevin glances back at Alicia, a splitsecond look of worry crossing his face as she calls the bartender over. Perhaps he's worried the bartender will mistake her words for meaning him instead of Wayne, but his confidence restores itself as the bartender looks over. Wayne is smart enough at least, to know when to back down. For now, he simply gives Alicia an evil eye - only one, unfortunately - and takes a step back. "I'm gunna get you, bitch. Watch your back," he growls, before turning and stalking off.

Stepping forward, Alicia growls in her throat. "You ain't ganna get shit, fucker." She says, giving him a shove from behind, perhaps becoming a bit provoking. Kevin is ignored for the moment, eyes narrowed tightly. "You better watch /your/ back. You forget who yer' dealing with or something? You think for a moment you can take my ass? I'll bounce your scrawny white ass all over the fucking street. You want to take this shit outside right now?"

Wayne didn't expect the shove, and as a result is caught offguard. He does, though, recover quickly enough to catch himself. He whirls about, expression contorted into one of anger. "Maybe I will, bitch," he growls lowly, menacingly. Yet, he seems to retreat still and heads towards the booth with his friends again. They don't seem to be paying any attention to the scene at the bar though. All this taking place in front of Kevin, and he seems to not really act out. After all, it's evident that Ali can handle herself in front of Wayne. Once Cowboy is out of earshot, he grins at her - even though there is a touch of insecurity on who's the dominant one now in his smile. "Damn, he didn't put up much of a fight hunh?"

Continuing to stare after Wayne, Alicia growls a bit in her throat, then turns her attention back to Kevin, smirking slightly. "He never does. He's nothing but a wannabe gangster who thinks he is god's gift to women. Nothing but a bitch." She smirks some, wrapping her arms around his neck, pushing him a bit against the bar, leaning in to peck him on the neck. "Its getting late though cutie and I probably should be getting home. Gotta kid to feed and other stuff."

Wayne returns to the booth soon, yet doesn't sit down. He's seen talking to the two friends, and then with a jerk of the hat on his head down, looks like he's leaving the club. Kevin's brow arches up when Alicia sidles up to him, and kisses his neck. There's a slight hesitation however, when she mentions 'kid to feed and other stuff.' "Oh, uh, alright. Maybe I'll see you again sometime," he replies, smiling at her but with a clear indication that he's not going to return that kiss. "Happy Birthday, too."

"Maybe. That'd be really cool." Alicia says with a grin up at him, then gives his hand a squeeze, sidling her way to the door, pushing it open and out into the cool night air. She tosses a look over her shoulder towards the 'posse', flashing them a quick grin with her teeth. Flick. A flash of silver as she opens up her palm, revealing what appears to be a switchblade. C'mon out boys.

Kevin watches you go, only to turn back to the bartender and look at the untouched beer. Yeah, he'll probably be the one to drink that, since he's going to pay for it. Not quite so odd, but the two at the booth aren't looking Alicia's direction at all as she leaves the club. They appear to be chatting with each other still, and enjoying their night. Wayne has since left the club by the time the galliard is at the door. And once she is outside, there just seems to be smokers hanging around outside.

Outside of the club, the smokers take shelter from the cold in their meager groups like deer huddling in a herd. The street lights have come on for a couple of hours, but the moonless night keeps the street from being too well lit. Cowboy seems to be nowhere within view.

Alicia tugs her coat about her shoulders a bit tighter as she glances around quickly, then dips her hand into her pocket, fishing about for her keys. She starts for the parking lot, striding with her typical feral grace. She doesn't appear to be looking for Cowboy, figuring he took off or ducked away.

And all is well and good, silent going without disturbance as the car is approached. But, upon first inspection of the vehicle, there is something glaringly wrong. That first wrong symptom is the crunch of broken glass beneath the galliard's feet. Looking up, the window glass has been smashed in on the driver's side.

Furrowing her brows, Alicia removes her hand from her pocket and makes her way closer to the car, letting her eyes dart from side to side. Reaching over, she picks up a bit of glass, studying it for a moment. She then peeks into the car.

The rest of the cars on either side are untouched, and no one seems to be around, inside or outside of the car. The interior indicates one very important thing missing - the lovely radio. All is quiet still, save for the sounds of the street.

Reaching into the car and popping the lock, Alicia opens it up and slides in. She tugs out a wire from the broken panel and then starts to tie one of the larger broken shards of glass about it. Afterwhich, she climbs out and starts to concentrate, focusing on Wayne's name, staring at the glass.

Ten minutes pass, sloooowly ticking away by estimation. Then, the glass warms to the touch, definitely hotter compared to the cold night's air. It's almost too hot to be natural, and it tugs in that spiritual manner. The tug is Strong, but only because the sound of footsteps approaches the car. "Looks like tonight's not your night, Arizona," comes that all too familiar voice of Cowboy. And there he is, black cowboy hat tilted down slightly more to hide his bruised face.

Flipping the stone about in her hand, Alicia turns and stares at him, then whips out a baretta off her hip in a motion so quick its hard to catch it unless you got the sharpest of eyes. The hammer is pulled back. Click. "Excuse me? I think that you need to rephrase that. You just broke into my car and stole my radio. I don't think its /your/ night."

Cowboy doesn't see the gun until it's out and pointed at him. That's a decent indication for him to get off the car at least, backing up a step or two. "'Ey, Fuck you. I didn't break into your Damn car," he spits back while backing up. He looks unarmed, but anyone of his reputation at least is known to carry a knife.

"Really? You didn't break into my car? Would you like to try that against a CSI? I got connections and you know I do." Alicia growls at him. She doesn't approach, she simply lets him continue to wander away.

"Ever since you turned vanilla, you ain't got half the connections you had before," Cowboy replies, folding his arms over his chest. "Y'lucky you don't gotta walk home t'night. Oh wait, maybe you will," he says with a smirk, nevertheless backing up so that the next car over at least covers his lower torso and shields him.

"Look, Wayne, you have no clue what kind of connections I got." Alicia says with a smirk upon her face. "In fact, you have no clue what kind of shit I'm involved in. Lets just say that if I was you, I would /really not/ fuck with me. The 'connections' I have, are the type that knows how to hurt someone and fuck up their lives and yet.. not even touch them."

Cowboy snorts, as if he's holding back a laugh. "Yeah right," he sneers, turning half away to make his way back towards the club. "You gonna call your little Asian ninjas outta the woodwork now? Gonna help me grab a couple new tricks or somethin'? Pff. Nevamind. Like I want your shit now." Oh he's bold. He's bold, and he's got backup coming, as a whistle sounds out over the parking lot and he dares a glance behind him.

Alicia raises up a brow and plucks her cell phone off her hip. "Cowboy, I hope you like prison sex, because I'm going to put you there for a long time. You ever watch Twenty-One Jump street, dumbass?"

Either he hasn't, or he doesn't deem the question worthy of a reply. Nonetheless, Cowboy shrugs a shoulder and starts to walk, going to meet up with his crew halfway at the parking lot at their cars. "Whateva babe. You go call your new sugadaddy to come pick you up."

Alicia slips the gun under her jacket and frowns, then hips the door shut to the car. She pulls out her phone, eyeballing the group as she dials the number for Triple A. For some reason, she just doesn't trust turning on the ignition.

Cowboy joins up with the two Posse from the club, looking considerably more lighthearted now that he's got a couple of other guys at his back. Some chatter amongst the guys occurs, and a round of laughter bursts out of them all. They seem to be looking towards the Mustang, stifling down to some chuckles after Cowboy waves back at you.

Alicia continues to watch them, starting to grin even wider as she talks on the phone. She waves back to them, even blowing a kiss. Whoever she is on the phone with, its obviously not Triple A.

Eventually the three guys slip into their one car, a blue 2002 Accord. Cowboy isn't driving, it looks like, and when the engine revs it's evident that car has had some modifications under the hood. A short while later, the Honda pulls out of its parking space and comes around, slowing in front of the Mustang. Cowboy lowers the window from the backseat and smirks. "Have fun babe!" And with a tip of his black hat to the one you stole, the car peels off onto the streets, headed to wherever the boys are headed next.