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THE PLACE THAT HAD NO NAME:
Just because it was just that damn good. This is the place where everyone would go to, especially if they were Black, to see if their music would actually make it among their community. When you start out, you hit the Chitlin Circuit. If you couldn't afford a working car or money to take the bus through the Circuit, you start out at The Place With No Name. Now, the Place With No Name wasn't any sort of shindig. To protect the proprietors of this place, it was obviously lived in. Not some broken and worn down place, no. It was an actual house that stood amongst the commercial district in Harlem, one that had a working kitchen and two bathrooms with -three- floors that houses three families, yet the main floor was the staple of this place.
Wood. The floor shined but had obvious scuff marks. The stage rolled out near the back wall, the double doors of the kitchen carried the smell of chitlin, fried chicken and grits. If you're lucky, you could get a plate of Grandma's greens with neckbones and a slab of cornbread. You want something sweet? Peach cobbler and Banana puddin was upon the menu, made by the kids who live in the house and fund this lil' venture.
Top floors, obviously, weren't for the faint of heart. Craps games, a little bit of poker, some gin rummy with Granny while the younger folk who were pioneers of the music game kept business going downstairs. Fifty cents entry. Wait your turn to get in, Big Bubba Black wasn't worried about your shit if you wanted to hurry up and get out of the cold streets of Harlem.
It was a lively junction, tables were surrounding the stage well enough, but there was enough room for folks to dance. A few men kept their women tight, all arms and eyes on them as they swayed to the jazz. Bring your own instruments, they say. But that baby grand piano was a new fixture for someone who wasn't all too polite in her own world.
In fact, just because of -her- arrival, John Lee Hooker played a lil' instrumental of something that he himself was working on, three years too soon. Plucking away on his guitar, he didn't need nothing else, but the mic pressed to his lips as he hummed out what -could- have been words, but yet it was a soulful thing that had folks closing their eyes, puffing on their cigarettes with windows cracked open, and the Woman manning the piano as she took to swaying.
Shuri, Princess of Wakanda was there. Tucked away in an old booth that were manned by a few others, one most notably, Handsome Joe. While she did not look uncomfortable, the dark woman held a stern gaze as she watches the performance, occasionally leaning an ear to Handsome Joe as he speaks and gestures out towards the crowd. Where one would think she would nod in reply, she does not.
Where one would think she would grasp her glass and take a sip of the watered down liquor that ices her cup. She would not.
For fucks sake; she wasn't even supposed to be here. The detail was slipped for some good ol' fashioned stylistics of the most talented Negros that would cross that floor.
*
Logan made his way in a while ago, finding a corner of his own. He knew a few of the locals, had been through these neighborhoods on and off during the years. Some of the grey-haired folks remembered him from back before the Big One, finding him strangely unchanged and somehow fascinating for it. The bluesmen knew him, too - they called him by a few names: Mr. Sharp, The Old Wolf.
A few who saw him on his bad days just called him Death.
He drags on his stogie and listens, knowing this isn't his place per se, just enjoying the music and keeping the peace.
*
Luke had been MIA for ages now. Even if the baby-mambo had been busy with her other duties, it was Harlem that held her heart, her soul, and had her protection. After visiting here and there, it was time for the girl with flooftastic hair to visit the club. She knew names, faces, never forgetting anyone that she had met, and the people here knew her, too. She had actively shown her abilities once or twice before, especially when dealing with any troubles that plagued the neighborhood. Domino had asked her before, 'Why Harlem', and without hesitation, she answered saying 'They're my people'.
"We c'n head out t'work in a bit. Jus' doin' my visits n'rounds." She promises the tower figure of Creed, and the pale-skinned Neena. "S'nice n'warm, dough. Have a sit down, get y'a drink." She offers, her eyes skipping about those already in attendance. Noticing Logan causes her brow to arch, but she offers the gruff oldman a wave. It's when she spies someone else that her mood shifts from casual, to deadly. Without delay, she moves across the floor, bringing herself closer to the table of Joe and his royal guest. "How y'all doin'?" She greets the pair, at least offering a smile to Shuri. "Joe…y'ain't causin' trouble now, are y'? 'memba what I tol' y' de first time." She warns, pointedly.
*
The only problem with gambling (and winning more often than not) is that some people start to feel as though they are being cheated out of their money. The trick is to pick your proverbial battles, find different betting men within different environments so that no one becomes a regular sucker.
Fortunately for Domino, Lynette happened to know of somewhere where she hadn't already cleaned house! Making a side trip with the promise of some fast and easy cash is one way to keep the albino's interest.
It's also the first time that she's properly met Victor, and by 'meet' it's really more a matter of 'arriving with.' She's feeling somewhat insignificant standing beside the monster of a man. It's times like this when a .380 just doesn't feel adequate enough. Good thing they're on the same side…
They've only just gotten through the doors when Lynette is all but rushing across the room. It takes Neena all of a half second to figure out what the trouble is, stop herself short, and breathe out a tired sigh. "Tonight just got a lot more interesting." And just in case Handsome Joe isn't 'interesting' enough, Logan's here as well! Make that interesting with a side order of awkward.
*
Victor tended to stand out in Harlem, but at least he wasn't the palest person in the room given that he was in Domino's company. He'd tagged along with Lyn, entirely at her insistance. It wasn't that he hadn't an appreciation for blues and music, but the crowd and all the scents in here was a little intense. Something about the place just got his hackles up. A grunt of agreement, the tall figure follows in the wake of the small mambo while his eyes scan the crowd. His own features harden just a little with a flicker of recognition, but it's not to the same presence as Lynette's own. The last time he'd seen the mutant smoking over by the bar? He'd been knee-deep in blood.
Lynette's introduction and comments turns his gaze back to the exchange, earning a curious quirk of his brow at such a threat being given.
*
THIRD FLOOR:
'I'm tellin' mama! She told you not to mess around with that stuff and you doin' it anyways!' One of the kids scream.
'It's just mama's perfume! Ain' nothin' goin ta' happen but me smellin all good!
SECOND FLOOR:
'I'm tellin' you, I met the man! Me and Malcolm shared a cell! I tell you what, he wud'n shit! That lil' red-headed motherfucker was all cowerin' an' shit thinkin' someone was gonna get a lil' piece of his ol B'Hind..' The man says loudly.
'Maaaaaaaaan, you talkin' shit! Yo ol' black ass ain' seen bars since yo' ass was still suckin' on yo mama's titties!'
The group of men roar with laughter, as fives were slapped in between hands agressively, a few dollar pills and coins picked from pockets and tossed on to the floor.
'Shut yo' bitch ass up and throw the dice. Hate y'all.'
MAIN FLOOR:
The slow cadence of the blues that cried from John Lee Hooker's guitar ended with a discordant shriek. A few men in the crowds created a slight ruckus at the noise, tossing napkins upon the stage as John Lee stands up to offer the lil' hecklers a middle finger for their enjoyement. Laughter all around as he steps down from the stage, the woman remaining there at her piano, tapping out a few tunes here and there to warm up her figures as her own band begins to fill the stage in preparation.
All the while, Shuri looked on, which was stopped by the arrival of Lynette. Handsome Joe almost looked like a deer caught in headlights, but he puts on a lil grin, an arm slipped around the Princess who looks a lil' nonplussed.
"Good." Shuri offers up, curtly.
"Causin' trouble? Me?" Handsome Joe offers up, that doe look soon turned innocent. "Why, I was just teaching the ol' Princess of Wakanda.." And he exaggerates the words, as if it weren't believed.. ".. a lil lesson here about our brand of people. You know, the ol' tired blacks who are constantly beat down and ignored. I know you heard about that shit, right? Them four lil' ol' girls who was caught up in that explosion. Damn shame, right? I was just askin' her if she could lend a lil hand to our plight. You know, breathe some human rights up in this city. We all got'ta stick together. If you know what I mean."
Trixie carries a tray full of drink (read: bottle) towards Logan, carefully setting it down in front of him. Thank goodness the music itself was in intermission, for she grins and leans upon the table with an adoring smile. "So my Daddy said that you was the one who helped save his leg in the war. Wanted me to send you the bottle. Said -ANYTHING- you want is on the house! Not me though, I don't roll like that. But, mama's in there makin' you a plate. She told me to ask if you want some peach cobbler with yo' drink, though we do got a slice a cake n' there that ain't on the menu.."
And yet, with the arrival of the three, Trixie just looks so nonplussed, even at the height of Victor, to which she points out.
"Lookit that.. what the fuck his mama done fed him is beyooonder me.."
*
VX has arrived.
*
Logan takes the drinks, "Thank ya kindly," he says. "Glad I could help out. Always better to help save a body when ya can," he says. "I don't need nothin' but the music an' the booze, darlin', but you can keep the drinks comin'," he says.
His nostrils flare at Victor's entrance along with Domino and Lynette, following her gaze over to the massive man. He can't help but give a low growl, his lips peeling from his teeth for a moment before he gets a grip on himself, throwing back a shot.
"Pretty sure that one ate his Mama alive an' bloody," he says gruffly. This isn't the time or the place to settle any scores there. Hopefully the psycho was on best behavior. What was Domino doing with that piece of work anyway?
*
"Don' t'ink y'need t'be teachin' a princess 'bout her own people, Joe." Lynette mutters, her hands resting on her thighs as she glances from royalty to, well, whatever the hell Joe was. "It is a shame. De whole world's s'shame right now. N' y'right. We gotta stick t'getha n'keep on pushin' de dream. But you…y'bein' here don' make no sense. Did y'tell y'guest 'bout you 'stickin' t'getha' with us by rollin' up int' town n'killin' y'own?" She questions, bluntly, as those hands move from hips, to crossing over her petite chest defiantely. "I warned y'bout comin' back here, Joe. Y'even lift y'hand up, or look at s'mbody de wrong way, I /will/ end you."
Another glance given to Shuri, her expression softens enough to be considered apologetic. "Sorry 'bout dat, Princess. But y'sittin' wit de devil." A pause, "Welcome t'Harlem." Stepping away, she moves to return to both Domino and Creed, but not before lifting her index finger and pinky to her eyes, then pointing them back Joe's way as if by placing a curse on him. Once back with her 'group', she follows both their gazes toward Logan's table. A blink, or several, and she questions the duo. "Y'all know 'm, too? Small world, ain't it?"
*
Rules for survival. They're important in any situation, and they're what Domino happens to live by. Rules..such as 'don't let a situation get personal.' She has absolutely no love for Joe. The guy was a murderous asshole, but that was his decision. He was an asshole on his own time. Right now she has no stake in any of this. Frankly, she'd like to keep it that way.
While Lynette's busy making pals with an enemy Dom's drifting out toward the tables. In the same moment one of the other gents picks himself up and wanders to the bathroom, right as a fresh drink is being delivered to his table. It's another half second decision which leads to her claiming the drink almost as quickly as it's left behind.
"Caaaareful, Shortie," she mutters more to herself than Lynette before downing a healthy amount of booze.
When the Tiny Gumbo walks away from Joe some of the tension starts to ease out of the pale lady's shoulders. Some of it quickly returns when confronted about Logan. "A little," she admits while dipping her head forward then looking off to one side. She's just gonna go ahead and keep that subject comfortably vague.
Speaking of Vague, she's not getting a lot off of Victor over there. What little she is picking up..isn't so great. He's kinda giving her the vibe of a restless tiger pacing around in his all too small cage.
*
VX hardly fits in around here, but then again next to Domino and the monster that is Victor he seems downright normal. He moves slowly into the place and looks around curiously, the word of a few 'old friends' led him here. Perhaps luckily for him or others he had not entered with the others he knows that are currently in the place. His eyes widen slightly as he happens to notice Victor, the man is very hard to miss. He slowly starts to make his way over to the giant man, trusting in the beasts enhanced senses to let him know that it was him and not an enemy approaching him from behind. He looks around as he notices the other two that he had seen at least in passing. He notices how tense everyone seems and raises an eyebrow as he approaches "What is going on? Last time i saw the three of you together in the same place we weren't exactly in a crowded space."
*
Plenty of psychopaths in war, but then Victor wasn't exactly a poster child for the temper managing folk. Case in point being the narrowing of his eyes and the slight growl that rumbles at the base of his throat for the mention of his mother. Ears like his? One could be he heard the little comment from the smaller mutant, but the look he shoots Logan is about as far as the expression of violence goes. Thankfully, there's plenty going on to divert his attention to. A princess? That just earns a little 'huh' under his breath, but he hardly moves to make much in the way of introductions while Lynette is being social, diplomatic and all sorts of things that weren't his forte.
Vx's approach earns a nod from the mutant before he shrugs. "'Makin' the rounds' apparently."
*
SECOND FLOOR:
'But naw, I'm sayin. He all talkin' bout any means necessary, but y'all ain't know that that nigga right there? Was shackin' up with them same folks he was sittin' up there talkin' about. Then he got the nerve..'
'SHUT UP ROSCOE!'
'I'M JUST SAYIN!'
'Look man, we all know you jealous. You tried to hook up with them Islam negroes, they said no. Get the fuck over it.'
'Hey, fuck you Charles, I ain't even mad about that.'
MAIN FLOOR:
The woman reaches for the glass that laid upon the top of the baby grand, her lips pursing as she takes a quiet sip, the sound of the ice lightly clinking against the acoustics of what would be the main floor of a house, her dark eyes turned up towards the ceiling as she presses fingers against each idle hand in turn to rub. She clears her throat, then leans slightly towards the side, her voice a little bit quiet, unsure.
'Thank you.' She cracks a little smile, a little applause picking up as she begins to play; the piano uptempo was something that most could tap their feet to. The guitar was strumming those quick lines of music, but it was clear that -SHE- took the reigns in all of this.
'Alabama's got me so upset,
Tenesse made me lose my rest,
And everybody knows about Mississippi God-daaam…'
While she sings, Shuri moves a little to the side, watching as the woman begins to sing. The conversation was almost lost on her, though a few choice words had her attention kept, moreso as she slides a little bit away out of Handsome Joe's grasp.
"She ain't from around these parts. And me being here? It makes -complete- sense. These my people. You can't hold monopoly on that. I got it. I been here -long- before you and prolly will after. Sticks get down and I pick up the people and the pieces and get back to movin'. I build them up and I make 'em. That lil' tiff back there with them people a few months back? Fluke. A set up job. But I got mine." He pats his chest, then grins, his hand lifting up to point towards Lynette but nothing happens. Nothing at all. Just a finger-gun salute with the potential to get deadly.
Shuri watches the exchange with a slight hint of amusement, the first signs of enjoyment since she walked into the place. A little bow of her head was given towards Lynette as she states her welcome, and then her gaze turns back towards Handsome Joe. Her accent, thick as it was, was clear enough to be understood. "Ya got ya own people threatenin' ya. Ya killin' ya own? Why?"
Joe murmurs slightly, shifting a bit uncomfortably. "Don't worry about that gal, Princess. All talk. If you can understand that shit." He waves his hand towards Trixie, who was already heading away from Logan's place in the makeshift club, the young woman bouncing towards the duo with a grand smile.
"Don't speak little chitlin, just gimme your best and a plate." Trixie heads off, muttering beneath her breath.. "First you got dudes growling and some asshole calling me chitlin, swear on the life of god and all that is holy I'm going to beat someones ass.. MAAAA!"
'Can't you see it,
'Can't you feel it,
It's all in the air!
'I can't stand the pressure much longer..
'Somebody say a prayer!'
*
"A lil, huh?" She muses, smirking Domino's way, the expression pressing a dimple into her cheek. Eyeing off VX, she at least gives him an up-nod of greeting. "How y'doin', slick? N'm' makin' m'rounds. Checkin' up on people." She explains, glancing at the pair and then toward Victor. "Y'don' gotta be here if y'don' wanna be, amore. M'jus' invested now, what wit dat fucker comin' back here." Leaning back on the bar, she keeps her face toward the crowd as a whole, moving form place to place, but always settling back on Joe. "I c'n smell de bullshit comin' off dat one." The Creole mutters. "If y'stickin' 'round, dough, least I c'n do is get y'a drink, non?"
*
"Yeah. A little."
Throughout all of this Domino is met with a very large concern. It isn't Handsome Joe. Or the tense Victor. The warpathing Lynette. It's not even Logan still sitting off to one side.
"I can't understand a goddamn word anyone's saying," she once more grumbles to herself. It's promptly followed by chugging the entire glass of alcohol then grimacing and setting the empty vessel aside on some other random table. "Half of the time I can't even make sense of whatever the fuck Lyn's yammering on about."
Arms loosely fold together across her stomach, then she glances sidelong up at Victor and VX. At least they don't have to gather 'round the lobotomy this time around, though in some situations she'd actually find that preferrable. "When she gets in over her head, who here is diving into the resulting shitstorm?" she asks the two. Because it's Lynette, and she will get in over her head.
*
VX nods his head towards Lynette as she approaches and then follows her eyeline until he can make out what is really bothering her about this place, and just why her rounds her are taking her longer than normal. "I get checking up on people. We all have plenty of people that we need to look after now. But if he is the issue why don't we just move him along?" He looks towards Victor and his sheer size before he looks down at his own hands. "I am sure it wouldn't take to much convincing." Then he stops for a moment and looks around the crowd. "Although maybe we are better of waiting until later when things can be a little more private." He shakes his head as he looks over the man again "Sure I could go for a drink. Need to relax a little anyway." He runs his hands through his hair, scruffing up the already messy do. He grins at Domino as she speaks up "You'll get used to it in time. I did." He chuckles slightly and scratches at his well trimmed beard. "If there is going to be a scuffle there is not way I am missing out. I need to blow off some steam today."
*
A raise of an eyebrow comes from Victor as he looks down at Domino, although a quirk of his lips suggests he finds a little shared humor in her words. He'd 'dive in', as if there was any doubt about it, but anyone who knew him probably knew that was going to result in some bloodshed. He knew the story about the man that had the creole so riled up, but he didn't have a face to place it to before now. The club had some ambiance, but it also was a powder keg waiting to go off if things continued the way they were headed.
"A drink sounds good," he finally speaks up after his moment of internal processing, looking back down towards Lynette. "But start slow, y' an angry drunk when you get goin'" he adds to Lynette, clear teasing in his deep tones. Like he was one to talk!
*
SECOND FLOOR:
'Y'all ain't getting it though. You see Handsome Joe? Dude gonna get us right. Folks in that Nation of Islam crap just move through the city and don't stick through with the shit, but we gonna have our own. Do our own thing.'
'And?' One guy replies, only pausing to throw the dice upon the ground, his fingers snapping loud like a whip crack as he throws his hands up. 'I'm out.'
'I'm just sayin'. I'm tryin to put you on before you get shit on, is all. You can't be linkin' up with the brotha all late and sayin' you was there all that time..'
"You see, Princess. I'm trying to build something here." He leans into Shuri, even as she bobs and sways with the music, her knee lifting in a thumped cadence that signifies her foot tapping against the ground. "I mean, I'm not trying to be all big King Shit here, but we need it." He gestures. "You hear that song Nina's singin? She's feelin' it. It's about time we take our place in history, and to do that I'm going to need your help. I mean, if what you're saying is true, or what I hear is true, you're a Princess. Which means you got money. Which means you have the means and the tools to form an army. A Black Army." His hand holds up. "Now, I ain't tryin' to get all Malcolm X and Martin Luther King on folks, be all preachy and shit. That shit's for the birds.."
"You want me to fund your army, the same army as that young girl said who carries the color of ya' own peoples that you killed?"
"Now I said that was an accident, Princess. The government was trying to set me up."
"Why?" She asks.
"Because I'm Handsome Joe.."
Trixie bursts through the double door of the kitchen, the large bottle plopped down in front of Handsome Joe (the plate of food purposely forgotten) as she wanders off, another bottle soon delivered to Logan, tray raised in the air as she twirls around a few couples dancing a jig. That bottle was soon placed in front of them as Trixie rolls around in the same manner, tray lowered as she approaches.. the quad. At least one looked like they belonged. The yet one was too white, the other too big and the other.. just white. Eh! More money! Plus a few guys said they know VX..
"What can I get yall? I mean if yall in here yall better be drinkin' or my mama gonna start doin' some tossin."
*
Logan takes the bottle with a proper thanks and takes a long drink. Otherwise, he keeps his peace and he keeps his distance from teh big table. Logan didn't come to raise hell and he sure as shit isn't sticking his head into that hornet's nest.
*
"M'standin' right here!" Lyn exclaims toward Domino, her eyes wide at the woman's comments. "Y'wan' I speak French? I c'n do dat, too. Jesus, chere. Y'touchy t'night." She mutters, rolling her eyes and glancing toward VX and Victor. "Ah, y'two 'n on it, too? Well, guess m'damned t'night." A glance toward Logan, she offers the man a smile before turning toward Trixie. "Evenin', sweetie. I know, I know. Jus' get'm a round of whateva dey wan'. I be payin'." Patting Victor's arm, and Domino's back, she then pulls away and heads over toward Logan's table.
"How y'doin', Mr. Logan? Surprised t'see y', out n'bout." She begins, her demeanor toward the scruffy Canuck respectable, and at least, calm. "Y'doin' alright? Get dat talk in with y'boy?"
*
A wordless sneer follows the two responses given to the albino. "Figured as much." Then to Lynette with the hint of a grin, she points out "It doesn't change the fact."
If Victor decides to get all feral that wouldn't be a problem for her. By far the bigger concern..is VX. She's seen enough of that man's abilities, and what he chooses to do with them, to put her right on edge whenever he's nearby. And right now he's feeling pretty..damn..near. If VX goes for a drink Domino is never letting the guy escape the boundaries of her attention.
Never. Like 'not a chance in Hell.'
Okay, Dom does understand one word that's spoken around here. 'Nina.' It sounds exactly the same as 'Neena,' she doesn't know just who is being referred to. But, the mere idea that Joe might know who she really is just feeds into the paranoia, to the point that she suddenly has to stop herself from gunning him down in the same instant that he speaks the name.
Then the tiny Cajun says something else which she understands. 'I be payin.' "Whiskey. Calvert, or whatever."
*
"I'll have a double scotch, thanks. Something decent." He smiles, if Lynette can't afford it he can always pay her back he just made a pretty decent amount of money. At least enough to keep him drinking well for a couple of months. He looks around at the other two as he leans back on one of the tables "So whats the deal with Lyn and that guy? I mean he looks like a shark, but there are plenty of sharks out there to deal with."
*
"Whiskey," Victor rumbles, happy enough to distract himself with a little booze. It tended to take a lot to really start affecting him anyway, the price of that healing factor that managed to keep the big homicidal mutant alive all this time. "Killed some folk here in town," Victor answers VX, talking quietly for the time being. "Messy-like too. More than a human, but not humane or somethin'." At least, that's Sabertooth's interpretation. He hadn't been here the first time after all.
*
Trixie stares at Lynette, and then the three as they all place their order. Her face scrunches up, her brows wrinkling as she gives them a long moment. "Mama also said yall gonna take whatever the hell I give yall." It really wasn't a bar, to be honest. There were still scruff marks on the floor pointing to how the couches and tables were moved out to make room for more.. With that pippy little look, Trixie the Teenaged Menace bounds out of the room, the double doors swinging behind her. "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
As Nina continues to croon out her own songs, drawing out into a more smoother, softer melody, Joe settles in closer to Shuri.
"You see, I'm kind of a big deal around these parts. People see me here as the next Messiah, you know, the big Black revolutionary leader, so it's only a wonder that they want to turn me against my own folk."
Shuri leans away, slightly uncomfortable, but he presses on. "See, don't go listening to that girl. She can't even roll with her own." He directs her attention towards Lynette, and soon she grits her teeth, her gaze falling upon him then.
"You are asking for something very important here." Shuri finally states, drawing herself up and out of the booth with a few quick shuffles of her feet. "And I shall consider it."
"Oh? Let's put a timestamp on that then, I need your answer by weeks end. I want that backing of Wakanda. Our people can't survive without your help." Joe, at least, for all of his bullshitting and his handsomeness, puts on a brave face of innocence. Earnest. A face in which Shuri draws a brow up at, and a slight nod.
"Very well." The princess offers, turning into her path, which was halted by Trixie as she blazes by with another twirl and drinks placed upon the counter top.
*
Logan looks up as his table his approached, a cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. He hadn't really anticipated being called out or walked up on, restraining his immediate urge to snap or run the girl off. He just wasn't in the best of moods.
"No, nothin' changed since we talked," he said. "You keep some interestin' company, girl. The kinda company usually leaves bodies laying in their wake," he said. It wasn't hard to smell the violence on the pack and he knew all too well how Domino operated plenty of time. Not that he was a saint, but he was at least trying to be better.
Most of the time.
*
"Sorry t'hear dat. Least y'tried." She shrugs, and the comment about her company has her glancing off toward the 'bar' and back again. "Dey good people. N'dey get t'ings done. S'mtimes…de bodies gotta fall." She explains gently. Glancing at his drinks, and his expression, she girl nibbles her lower lip before taking a step back. "Well, I get outta y'hair, den. Y'take care now, Mr. Logan." And back toward the collection she goes. Her eyes flit back towards Joe, and now and then, Lyn is caught off guard by a few other faces of the neighborhood. She chuckles, laughs, even makes small talk, before rejoining Domino, Victor, and VX. "We c'n move out when y'ready t'." Turning, she faces Joe once more.
*
"Went on a rampage a few months back," Domino quietly explains to VX. "Detonating heads, in a very literal sense. Just a touch and pop goes the weazel. The guy completely flipped his shit, thought it was a riot. Just another sociopath, if you ask me."
Another sociopath who is trying to work out a financial deal with Wakandan royalty…
It isn't personal. It's a matter of feeling that the world would be a lot better off with this little problem named 'Joe,' and how tempted she is to solve said problem with that bullet, after all. A hero, a -messiah!- And she's the fucking Queen of England!
A cold, thoughtful look crosses her expression as the tip of a lunar-pale finger subtly taps at one of the pistols tucked away upon her person. The jackass would never see it coming. It wouldn't be a paying job, more like a bit of community service on her part. Sometimes..bad deeds just need to be done. Isn't that what the Brotherhood is all about?
She's still giving the idea some real consideration when Lynette returns. If there's a drink with her name on it she'll kill it with haste, in Joe's stead. "Wonderful idea," she grunts.
Don't let a situation get personal.
*
He smirks slightly at Trixie as she speaks "As long as it is strong." VX chuckles at the big mans words as he takes a sip from his drink as it arrives "Well my friend you just describbed ninety-five percent of the people in my new social group." He looks at the 'target' all over again, taking in all that he can of the man "I take it he killed the wrong people then. I wonder if he knows just what friends of friends he pissed off." He shakes his head with obvious humour "If he did I wonder if he would have changed his actions."
He takes another small sip of his drink as his gaze looks over Domino. He has not yet had the opportunity to see the woman in action. But he is looking foward to it, she gives off the impression that her fighting style would be different to the things he has seen so far. She seems very dangerous. And she drinks hard drinks on top of that as well. Not bad. "Well that seems a little more than i was expecting. I won't let him get close then. But it definitly seems like he is the kind of person that is worth getting rid of." He looks over his shoulder at Lynette as she moves over to another table, curious. But he does not need to know all of her friends.
*
Anyone who proclaims themself a Messiah generally has less then holy intentions. Last time Victor had seen someone who thought they were in that league? He was taking an 'extended bloody vactation' in Germany. It's enough to have him giving another grunt while he recieves whatever drink it is that Trixie actually brings him and downs it entirely in one hit. Seems his mind was in a similar place to Domino's own, whatever path it took to get there.
Lynette's arrival and offer to depart earns a nod, the man sitting is glass down with a thud while looking to the short woman with a smile. "Whenever you're done Darlin'," he speaks, casting a glance towards Logan with a return of that frown. "Awful high horse you've found yourself on Logan. Musta' needed a ladder for that one."
*
There were a few things for Handsome Joe to consider as Shuri walks away; should he go ahead and end her now, turn the entire Place with No Name a spot of truth, history in the making, or should he settle back and beat Trixie once she heads home for not giving him his meal. But the arrival from the man upstairs, has him rising, right when the song ends and Nina and JLH were packing up to go home. Sure, other local starlets were to take the stage, but they weren't as important as the two.
Big Mama promised a show. And she always deliver what's promised.
And while the women shucked clams in the kitchen for the next bout of stars to draw in the Sunday after worship crowd, the men upstairs hang loose..
Loose with a noose around their necks, dangling high from the ceiling rafters that were revealed quietly while the songs blaired on. Feet were dangling, bodies swayed from side to side as the last twitches of life touch their toes which have them pointing straight..
"All done?" Joe asks the man, giving him a clear bump with his elbow. The man only nods, his arms soon crossing about his chest.
"None of em took to it, Joe. Hadda get rid of em. They think we playin'. Got a pretty bit of money to line my pockets too.."
Joe stretches his hand out, fingers wriggling for the cash which was split in between the two men. "How you do?" He asks of Joe, whom shakes his head almost immediately.
"Not good. That ol' floofy haired mutherfucker ruined my pitch. But I think I may have swayed her. Ay. Hit the books, I wanna find out about this Wakanda shit. If we can get her on board, more the better. If not, we'll get her too."
The two men look on as Shuri exits to the cold outside, their eyes soon falling upon the rag-tag group who obviously stood out.
"Think we're going to have to get them folks. Can't have them standing in the way of a revolution." The man says. "Yeah, well. We'll worry about that later. Got a plate of chitlins and cornbread with my name on it."
All the while, Trixie continues to make her rounds, keeping the crowds pleased with drink while the locals on the stage continue on with their playing. It was a good night.. possibly the last night for a few who remain behind..
*