Participants:
| Scene Title | A Better Fit |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Logan offers Kase one. |
| Date | October 2, 2009 |
It's half past noon, with sunlight struggling through gauzily curtained windows. Burlesque is not yet opened to the general populace, but the door is cracked ajar a few inches, wherein employees— or would be employees— can come in and out. The main area is currently mostly empty, though the sound of footsteps upstairs clunks bluntly above the sound of the jukebox playing quietly from its corner.
There are two figures at the bar. One is a woman standing behind it, setting out a shot glass and dosing it with a brightly coloured liquor, and it stands in a row with perhaps six other shots just like it, varying incarnations of colours and booze, a couple garnished, a couple not. The other is Logan standing customer side, leaning heavily against the bar and watching her work with detached interest. Despite the hour, he's dressed for the evening, from faux-iguana scaled shoes, to a pitch black three piece suit and the silver-threaded black open collared shirt beneath that.
A cane, also, a slender thing of shining black wood and a silvery, practical handle, currently hooked on his arm as his other hand hovers over a shot. "What's this one called?"
"Golden Sunrise." The bartender watches with narrowed eyes as the strip club manager neatly knocks it back, and she adds, "Boss, we got a few of these to go, it's probably better to just sip 'em instead of— "
"Don't be ridiculous. That tasted like a diabetic's urine sample, by the way. What's this one called?"
Okay, most of the time…Kase doesn't spend too much time at this particular business, but he has to enter to make his 'meeting' and he does so. Eyebrows raising as he takes in his surroundings, he wears a simple light blue button down shirt and a pair of dark jeans, black and blue sneakers on his feet and backpack slung over his shoulder.
Once inside of the place though…he's carefully pulling on a dark blue ballcap worn to the side and then fidgeting with the blue bandana wrapped around his wrist. When he finally sees Logan though he heads in the direction of the bar, eyeing the man's shoes first and chuckling softly to himself.
"It's just tequila, you— " Never mind. The bartender shrugs and sets about putting away the emptied shot glasses as Logan takes down the third, the Englishman making a face at the characteristic burning of the drink going down. With a delicate clink, he sets down the glass and steers his attention towards the approaching Kase, taking his weight off the bar and thusly redistributing it onto his cane, hand wrapped around the handle and posture at a lean.
His free hand goes out, palm angled a little upwards. "Nice to see you again. I was worried that all the excitement of last week— " Or however long ago it was. "— might have chased you away entirely." Logan's eyes are a little bright, his mood a little chipper from the drinking, but his words go unslurry.
Kase's eyebrow raises as eyes the hand offered, carefully grabbing it, squeezing it, releasing it and taking a step back. "Nah, takes a bit more to scare me off after all…" Then he trails off, nose wrinkling. "As long as the whole pieces of big guy raining down on me doesn't happen over and over and over again…kinda gross dude."
He sighs and scratches his cheek, eyeing the bar thoughtfully. "You know most of us have a totally definition of nooner, yeah?" He snorts and shrugs his shoulders, wary yet amused.
Logan glances towards the shot glasses, where they twinkle beckoningly in the dim light. "All in a day's work. It's a promotional strategy. That, and the quicker people drink, the faster they spend money." Meanwhile, the bartender stares across at Kase ever since the notion of someone raining down on someone else, and Logan puts out a hand to grip Kase's arm briefly, an urging. "Let's sit down, shall we.
"I'll be right back with you, love," is tossed over his black-clad shoulder to her as he makes a striding, if limping way towards a table and chairs towards the empty stage, the repetitive click-click-click of the cane between his foot steps metallic and sharp sounding.
"You did a good job of the yacht," Logan notes, as he scrapes out a chair for himself. "I read all about it."
Kase tenses at the hand on his arm, husky blue gaze flicking down at the hand briefly before he nods slowly. He is following though. "I guess we shall…"
The mechanic pulls out of a chair for himself, turning it around and straddling it backwards, resting an arm along the back of it. "I'm sure you did, it really wasn't hard though ya know? It be easy as soon as I get everything set up."
The cane is hooked onto the edge of the table, Logan settling comfortable back into his chair, fingers tangling together. "Still, people who know how to do such things and more importantly, get away with it, have value. However— " The word is emphasised with a light tap of his fingertips against the edge of the table. "Apart from the occasional fireworks show I might need now and then, I think I can offer something that'd suit you better, if you'd like a steady line of work."
Kase's eyes narrow and he tips a finger against his lips, that finger quirking to scratch his chin…he listens and doesn't reply just yet. He finally ahhs and nods slowly. "I'm listening…" He sighs a bit and shrugs a shoulder. "I can do more than just blow stuff up so maybe I'd be interested."
"Maybe." Logan tilts his head back towards the bar, indicating the building at large. "I run a legitimate business, here, no smoke and mirrors, and I'm always just a little hurting for security. Bartenders and strippers are the easy part - the city's full of desperate people, know what I mean?" His mouth twists into half a smile, and he shrugs a shoulder. "I'm offering a job watching the front door and breaking up trouble when it starts. Few nights a week, hourly rate. Just dress neatly and suffer no fools. What do you think?"
"I'm game." Kase chuckles softly before looking away for a moment and then look back to Logan. "I mean if you're serious and all, then I'm game. I need a job man, that why I come to you in the first place. Gotta eat, gotta sleep, gotta make the money."
Logan slices a smile across at the younger man. "I'm always serious. We open the doors at two in the afternoon, but business starts to hit properly at about seven, 'specially on Fridays. Why don't you come by then, and I'll have someone go through everything with you. By the end of it, we can draw up a contract together if you liked it any. Otherwise, I'll fork over the wages for tonight under the table and wish you well."
Kase mmhms softly and works on getting to his feet, turning his chair back around to the original position and he leans against the chair for a few moments before nodding a bit to Logan. "I'll be here then." He assures the man with fashionable shoes. "See what it is all about, get the contract made up if need be and embrace my new job with open arms." A hint of a smirk. "Or not, we'll see."
Levering himself up, cane back under his weight, Logan doesn't offer his hand again - simply nods towards Kase in a subtle chin lift. "We will. See you tonight." The meeting dismissed, squeezed dry of all imperative information requiring exchange, he moves on back to the bar with that step-step-click rhythm, the bartender drifting back from where she'd gone to clean up, already pushing forward the next sample shot. This job is so challenging.