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Early Evening, Rage simpers. You can't party 24-7 after all, and thing won't kick up for another hour or so. Several tables are still out on the dance floor, and food is still being served. The price they pay for a liquor license it seems.
Jimmy B leans against the bar, a Pepsi and Seven in his hand. His fingers tap restlessly against the counter as cooler eyes lazily scope the half empty venue.
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Spade enters the place, his white shirt and torn jeans looking less casual and more down-and-out. He spots Jimmy and waves, tripping over a shoelace and stumbling a bit.
Spade clutches the bar like it's a life raft, and, once he feels safe. Turns to Jimmy. "Whats up?"
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Jimmy stands to full attention as Spade arrives. He doesn't give much a shit for titles, but you respect cred where it's earnt. And Spade's got some balls.
But apparently not much footwork.
"Hey big brother, son of another mother. How's the way you walk?" Bourbon opens with bluster, and some kind of hand gesture that's not quite a handshake. Spade has trouble following it, but manages to fake it somewhat.
"Heard you had some deep shit to say at the Cap," he starts, eyes loose but probing. "Takes a brass pair to be real out there."
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Spade is caught trying to figure out just who Jimmy meant. Andrade? Tryia? Charlotte?
More faking. "Heh, I do what I can." Thanks for the reminder. Spade wished his enemies list would shrink for once.
It hardly seemed to pay off.
Why did Jimmy call him? Did he just need a distraction from his own trouble? "Did you catch that footage from Portland? That Mer-thing they caught?" Make the guy feel at ease, relaxed. Then draw out the real problem.
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Reign enters The Rage in a pair of baby-blue heels, dark near-black jean shorts, and a luminescent top that showed off her body perfectly. She spots Spade talking to some guy and walks over slowly, hips swishing slightly. "Hey Spade." She says with a smile.
She gives the guy talking to him a warm smile in greeting and extends a hand. "Hi, I'm Reign." She says, her english accent coloring her words.
Outfit
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"That thing? Maaaan, that's 'shopped. Matter of certainty. 'Sides, you think the spooks let som'n like that slip?" He practically hisses. Guardians.
Reign's arrival changes his train of thought and attitude entirely. His chest puffs out and his shoulders draw up. What is doing? A bird mating dance?
Two step forward, bob and weave, baby. Yeeeeeeah.
"Yo Reign, Jimmy B. Good to meet you girl." He pulls in close, all swagger and style.
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Spade sees it coming. Its high and inbound.
It
just
won't
stop!
His face is covered. Tip to palm.
"Riegn. This is Jimmy." His tone might suggest Reign doesn't want to know him.
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Reign just gives Jimmy and Spade both a big smile. "Well I'm sure its a pleasure to meet you Jimmy B." She says, looking at Jimmy as if he's insane for thinking he even has a chance.
"So, whats the situation guys?" She asks with an almost pouty expression, her face curious to know what was going on.
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"The situation? What's the situation?" Jimmy turns on Spade in an instant. "What the fuck does she mean, situation? What the fuck is this, Spade?" The club's guardian angel isn't in tonight, so the waitstaff (accustomed to Jammer taking aside unruly customers) become noticeably uncomfortable.
"Who the fuck is she?" A pointing finger is the only attention Reign gets from Jimmy now.
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Spade goes wide eyed at the sudden change in temperament. Backing away until the bar stops him. "Situation? I. She? I didn't. I would never Jimmy honest. Reign! What the hell?" he finishes in gritted teeth, the all worried and fearful grins for Crazy Man.
Miss America was clueless and Jimmy was on a hair trigger. Joy.
Draft this Post
