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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 3, 2014 2:21:20 GMT
Iggie didn't have this much money to blow, but here he was, throwing away rent money on strippers. Literally. It was seizing the day; debts could be paid back later and it was all worth it in the moment, the sight of a hot chick working the pole. He tossed tips as if he could afford it all.
There was a bar across the room - the girl up now wasn't quite so hot, nothing he couldn't miss - so he sauntered over, rested his arms on the bar. "Oi barkeep - Jagerbomb over here!"
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 2:30:01 GMT
Anya raises an eyebrow at the boy when he asks for Jagerbombs. She doesn't think he looks old enough to drink. Maybe he's old enough to be in here and throw tips, but drinking is something else. It doesn't take much to throw a sober kid out, a drunk kid is a lot more work. Drunk adults are easier to deal with - sometimes - than drunk, reckless kids. She doesn't feel like dealing with a drunk kid today, so she looks him up and down before doing anything. "Lemme see your ID first, kid," she says.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 3, 2014 3:36:27 GMT
The bartender is a chick. She has the body of a stripper - his eyes sweep her over before they flicker back to her face when she speaks. "ID?" He repeats, tone flat with an incredulous edge. "You're shitting me, right?" He leans over the bar. Of course he's old enough to fucking drink - he's sure as hell not a kid.
He rolls his eyes. "Can I just get my fuckin drink?"
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 4:09:26 GMT
Anya deadpans, "No, I'm not." Refusal to show an ID, makes him more suspicious. She crosses her arms across her chest and stares up at him. She crosses her arms across her chest before saying, "Look kid, I asked for ID. Show it and get your drink or don't and go home sober, your choice." She's not going to back down just because he thinks he's tough. She's dealt with bigger and badder boys pretending to be men, this one isn't any different.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 3, 2014 5:12:39 GMT
His lip curls, he stares her down a moment, red eyes glowering through the smoky air, lip curling before he sighs and digs his wallet out from his back pocket.
It isn't like he's not legal - he's always been hesitant to show any sort of ID. He leans with an elbow on the counter and glaring at the bartender as he flips it open and slides out his license. He holds it between his index and middle finger, and presents it grudgingly.
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 5:47:37 GMT
Anya plucks the license out of his fingers, and looks over it carefully. She's seen her fair share of fake and real ID's, she's pretty sure this is a real one. Well, she actually doesn't have any reason to not believe the ID is real. Her eyes scan the card, but they stop at the name printed on it. She raises an eyebrow and glances at him before holding it out to him to take back. "Ignatius Lysander Van Allen, huh? Couldn't come up with a better fake name kid?" A little smirk breaks out on her face as she grabs an glass and a shot glass to go along with it from under the counter. Then she cracks open a can of Monster and pours it into the taller glass before pouring some Jäger into the shot glass.
"Drink up, Ignatius," she says as she turns to put away the Jäger and throw away the empty Monster can. It's taking all her will-power not to burst out laughing, damn, that's such a stupid name.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN, idk gomen
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 3, 2014 6:32:19 GMT
He really fucking hates his name, and when she takes the card from him, Iggie avoids her eyes, glancing back to the rest of the club, watching the strippers, because he knows he can expect laughter, a scoff, a joke. He takes it back and stuffs it into his wallet with a scowl. He doesn't even bother to insist it's his real name because it's sure as hell nothing to brag about.
He might insist that it is so he can have his goddamn drink and forget this had ever happened, but she's already turned to pour it. He returns his wallet to his pocket and rolls his eyes. "Iggie." He corrects her flatly. Only his mother calls him Ignatius.
He glares at her back as he picks up the shot. Figuring this bitch will be a lot more bearable drunk, Iggie drops the shot and knocks it back.
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2014 0:42:40 GMT
"Ignatius it is then," she says with a little smirk still on her face. "You come here often, or is this your first time, kid?" She knows she's never seen his face when she's on duty, or maybe she doesn't pay enough attention. Either way, he looks the type to come often. She wants to say he smells like it too. He's got the stench of a disgusting male after all. Thoughts like those are things she's attempt to throw away when she's in the club. However, she figures it's okay to let this thought slip, just this once.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 4, 2014 5:49:33 GMT
He slams down the empty glass with a clatter and a grimace, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks back at the bartender. He grimaces, at her, at the aftertaste.
Iggie bristles, but he can feel the drink going to his head and his attention going to her tits - she has nice tits, they probably get her tons of tips. Hot chicks and strong drinks have put him in a good, easy mood. "Not here." He's only landed here recently, he's still scoping out the island's best.
"So," He smirks, combs his fingers through his hair. "You work the floor part time or what?"
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2014 15:56:17 GMT
Anya pulls her lips into a fake smile, "Sometimes, whenever the dancers need me too." It's not the type of working she thinks he will assume though. It's the type of working where she takes the steel bat behind her counter out and starts to threaten customers who are entering boundaries and breaking rules. "I prefer being behind the bar though." It puts space between her and the disgusting customers that walk in. She's stereotyping, but a lot of customers who come in are rather disgusting. Anya keeps that thought to herself as she grabs the Jager again to pour him another shot though.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN, tablet post sorry 4 errors.
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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shameless
Feb 6, 2014 15:28:13 GMT
via mobile
Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 6, 2014 15:28:13 GMT
She smiles at him, and so Iggie takes it to mean his advances are welcomed - not that he wouldn't make any otherwise. It doesn't really occur to him it's part of her job. He raises a brow at her reply, though not out of surprise. Behind the bar, he can't see below her waist. He can tell she has a banging body, an hourglass figure and he can see the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. He imagines her perfect legs and stilettos. He undresses her with his eyes while she pours another drink - he doesn't even need to ask.
"I'd like to see that." He fixes on her face with glinting eyes and a cocky grin, the carelessly crooked kind of a man who knows his charm.
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2014 0:37:31 GMT
Anya doesn't like the glint in his eye or his grin. It's the same look she gets from ten other guys every night. She's immune to the look by now, but she continues to smile and nod. It's the polite thing to do, it's what she does to keep her job actually.
Eventually the night fades, the hours pass by and it's very early in the morning now. There are still a few customers around, but it's almost time to close up the club. Anya glances towards the DJ and he nods at her. He turns down the music and makes an announcement to the crowd left, it's almost time to close. Pack your bags and get your dances done, or else time will run out he says.
Anya smiles as she wipes down the counter, tonight has been a pretty good night.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 9, 2014 4:44:58 GMT
Iggie spends the night between the bar and the main floor. Mostly at the bar, because he's wanting what he can't have. The strippers are already undressed for everyone to see, they're public property, and he wants to own - if only for a night.
He knocks back more drinks as if it might impress her - he doesn't end up throwing up, only having to take a fucking waterfall of a piss every so often. He zips up his fly and shoves open the bathroom door, and when he stumbles back to the bar, she's cleaning up.
"One more for the road?" He leans on the counter and grins at her.
@anya
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Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2014 18:13:15 GMT
For a second, Anya scowls, but only for a second before she forces herself to smile. "Sorry kid, we're closing. If you wanna drink, drink at home or something." She was so close, to being able to get out of here. She loves her job yes, but it's closing time and she's tired. She knows she doesn't have the energy to keep up this facade, but she has too. It's part of the obligation of being a bartender and sometimes she despises it.
IGGIE VAN ALLAN, idk man sry
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mortal
with 130 posts
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| crawl so low with some gin-soaked boy that you don't know |
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Post by IGGIE VAN ALLAN on Feb 11, 2014 4:28:49 GMT
She hasn't exactly been receptive this whole night, but she's put up with him. He doesn't even notice she's still calling him kid, he doesn't notice the trace of a scowl when she first spots him.
Iggie flashes her a jaunty grin. "That - sounds like a great idea, actually." He presses both elbows to the counter and leans past the bar's edge - his frame practically slumped across the bar - as close as he can get to her. There's alcohol on his breath and and cockiness in his tone. "Care to join me?"
@anya
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