OOC
OOC
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Dale turned to the kid ( Beej ) and said, "the guy over there with the beard, the one showing those ladies the bikes. That's Digger." Once he had pointed out his Alpha to the stuttering idiot, he turned his attention back to what actually mattered; the woman in front of him.
"Gotcha," he said to the Haunt, returning her smile with one of his own. "Well, I can try to answer any questions you may have." The Rahu paused for a moment before adding, "so ask away if you like."
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The song changed, and as Chaplain heard it, he grinned. "Now that is what I call divine intervention," he said, talking Sasha by the hand and moving into the same position he had while standing outside of Sutter's Fort. However, this time, there was a rhythm beyond Sasha's fingers on his neck and the sound of his own heart beating rapidly.
Which was still happening, by the way. Only this time, he was surrounded by his three brothers, who were nearby.
Good job they're not the sorts who would constantly rib him forever more, John thought dryly.
The Song
To dance
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*Ciara seems to lose focus on the world around her, her mind in motion to begin planning out the photo shoot and everything after.* Let's see... 12 models, outfits... A two day shoot... Airbrushing... Publishing, a run of five hundred... *Thin fingers dance in the air, the tall brunette clicking off beads on an imaginary abacus in the air.
After a few moments, she seems to come back to herself, smiling softly to Digger.* Well, assuming a professional spread with models, my outfits, and your bikes; I'd say Twenty Thousand would cover everything; including editing, publishing, and promoting it with local ads in print and radio. And you would retain rights to the photos, for any future promotional use you'd like.
Of course, I would be more than happy to cover the difference in values...
“Divine intervention?” L’aire laughed as she put her arm on John’s shoulder and took his hand again. “It’s a good thing I know this isn’t a set up.” The Fairest deliberately winked one of her violet eyes. She was actually relieved the song had a nice slow rhythm to it.
But John was certainly no boy. The Winter Dancer may not have always had confident words, but the way her body moved, even at the slow pace exuded confidence. L’aire was actually tickled inside that he wanted to dance at all, in public. She was well aware she’d put his hand in the wrong place before, but it’s where she wanted it. It wasn’t a lesson tonight, it was for enjoyment. Subtly, L’aire had coaxed their feet in a slow four step motion and despite them moving together at a slow pace it may have looked like he was leading.
“So…are you the son of a preacher man?” Chuckling softly as she leaned in to ask. It was partly in jest, and partly a real question. She was having such a good time, L'aire did wonder if the 'Divine' wasn't warming a special place for her somewhere. Like the song said, being good wasn't always easy. Of course, John hadn't stolen anything from her on the side...
Digger just watches along as Ciara does her air math. Digger nods as she states the dollar amount. He was a little shocked at the cost, but hey he didn't know shit about publishing a calander.
"Aight so 20 thousand for the calander, 30 thousand for the bike, give me a minute, just a dumb biker." Digger does his own version of the abacus , obviously playing with Ciara. He air shakes the imaginary abacus a couple times. It looks more like a etch a sketch now then a abacus. When done he turns and says, "Okay so by my math we have a difference of a generous donation and two? Wait no... three dates." Digger turns and smiles at Ciara, "Sorry forgot to carry the Pi. So, what you thinking..." Digger extends his hand to the European woman, his hands probably have dirt and grease under the nails. They are certainly rough and well used with calluses and scars from years of working on motorcycles and under hoods.
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Morgan blinks a few times, $10,000 equals three dates? He should at least ask for a few more! She is about to voice her opinion but shuts her mouth, it really isn't her business to tell how these two conduct...well, business.
She only really had one thing she needed to ask Digger before looking inside the shop to see what they had available for "riding leathers." And while it might not be important, Morgan felt that it was something worth asking. But, it'd be best to wait until after they complete their deal. It'd be rude to interrupt. Or... Morgan takes a quick look around to see if she can spot any other bikers that might be able to give her an answer, but like Digger the the other 2 she spots are occupied with lovely-lady charity goers. Figures.
Vincent cranes his neck and spots the rude man's boss. Talk to him before you leave, check. Turning back around the mage was very much aware of what the man was trying to do. Vincent decides to have fun with the situation and pester the knuckle dragger with politeness and good natured curosity and if the man snapped? Well he'd look like the dbag in front Josphine. "Oh, thanks." He pauses. "Actually, we just commenting on all the bikes you guys have on display." Vincent asks Dale, tripping over all the hard conscenents. "Are any of these yours? Have you worked on any these?"
Josephine had not been the one to ask the question, but her eyes slipped across to the bearded, muscular man that Dale indicated anyway. He definitely looked the part, in her entirely unprofessional opinion.
But she soon returned her attention to the two men in front of her, and for several seconds she listened to their back-and-forth. If the Haunt had any idea what was going on in regards to the subtle undertones, she had absolutely no idea.
“Considering my... complete lack of knowledge in... regard to motorcycles, my questions could... keep me here for quite some time,” Josephine responded, smiling faintly with the ease of conversation. As it turned out, it was not too difficult to relax in an unfamiliar situation after all.
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If you were "just a dumb biker", I doubt you would be able to put all of this together... *Ciara says; not buying the act for a second. As the biker pantomimes her earlier motions, her smile slenders into a narrow smirk. It's the look that a woman gives a man when he think's he's being cute, and she thinks he's being an idiot.*
Let me see... One night for the shoot, one evening to make final selections on photos, and one bike riding lesson. Sounds agreeable to me.... *Ciara takes that offered hand and shakes it without hesitation. Her hand might have been softer than Digger's; but there was a certain strength and resolution to it.*
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