queenoflogs | they say that they're winners

Entry tags:

they say that they're winners

Characters: Beaumont Residents and Poker Players (open)
Date: Nowish
Summary: Dot's set herself up a play date.
Warnings: Bad language.

She'd gotten bored with answering the door pretty quickly, to the surprise of no one. She's just left it open now, come on in. Just follow the obnoxious sound of her voice, and you'll find where she's taken up in the Phantomhive's old smoking lounge.

Booze does fuck all for her, so she hopes you brought your own damn drinks too.

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Zenobia arrives, full of excitement and curiosity. "Oh man. A game with a bunch of people. This is going to be so fun!"

Dot looks up from where she's sprawled across a chair, idly shuffling a deck of cards between her hands.

"Should be, I know most of these bitches." She considers that. "Except that one... whatever the fuck her name is..."

Gavril lazily made her way through the front door and loudly announced her presence. "Hey girlies! We gonna get this thing started?"

Larry entered after the crazy psycho women, scanning the room. Yep, definitely the sanest one here. "I'm ready whenever."

It's Larry that Dot points at.

"You! What the fuck is your name even?"

Because polite introductions are clearly so passe.

"Wh-what, I haven't said it yet?" God damn woman take it easy. "It's Larry. Larry Vincent."

Zenobia is examining some cards. "Interesting." She holds up a Jack of Hearts. "What's the 'J' on the sides mean?"

"Jackass," Dot answers. That's close enough, right? Knaves, Jacks, Jackasses, whatever.

She seems to remember the other woman then. "Larry. Right. Whatever. I knew it was something like that."

Gavril stares oddly at Zenobia for a moment, not for her demonic appearance but rather for her reaction to a simple playing card.

"You've never seen a deck of cards before or something?"

Larry sighs. "Yeah, yeah, she doesn't know cards, and a bunch of people here have never heard of guns either." She's not gonna bother correcting for the modern cards with a crowd like this though.

"Not like it matters." A gun wouldn't have any effect on half the chicks in this joint.

"We have cards back home. They just don't look like this."

Reno wasn't too sure about coming, what with all the monsters around. She's not worried about the monsters, she just doesn't like them. For the most part. A few of them are okay. Whatever, she doesn't think anyone could blame her for that after the shit she's had to deal with, and she doesn't much care if they do.

In the end, boredom had decided her. So here she is. Fortunately, she thought to bring some booze--if only enough for herself and possibly one other person--in her flask (every sensible girl packs a flask). She's also got cigarettes, and she'd be more willing to share them.

She slides into the room as if she hardly cares about being there, flashing Dot a quick smile. "Hey, babydoll."

She really does like to be called that, and she smiles lazily.

"Hey, Sparky. Took your sweet fuckin' time." She doesn't actually sound annoyed by it. She's had plenty of company, and that's what she was after. "You need a roll call, or are you just gonna make it up as you go?"

"You ever hear of fashionably late? That's me. Fashionable." Not offering so much as a joke of an apology, she laughs at this--she does wear clothes other than her usual Turk garb at times, but they're always a mess, in one way or another. She does think messes are fashionable, though, so that works out fine.

She shrugs off the offer of introductions. She doesn't care, and it's not as if she doesn't check out the Vine and what other people are up to. Routine surveillance. It's second nature, and so easy here. She at least recognizes all these chicks, but her expression offers no hint of this, lazy and easy. "I can manage. Making it up's a special skill of mine."

Dot snorts incredulously. Fashionable was not the word she would use but, hey, they were all entitled to their own opinions. Or something like that.

"I've never seen a bitch classier than you," she agrees wryly.

Reno winks. "Yeah, I get that a lot," she says, full aware that that isn't the case. "It's cause of my good breeding. No parents getting in the way of it."

She takes a sip from her flask, the height of classiness, and doesn't offer Dot any, though she doesn't know whether she does the booze thing. Her gaze flickers over the others present. "You sure pick up a lot of bitches. Little blonde's not here?" She's a lot more interested in the thought of fucking someone up than the thought of fucking at the moment--she gets enough tail here.

Dot laughs at that. "You and me both." She had been eight year old when her father had taken her out with a shotgun to the chest. She'd never looked back.

"And I haven't seen her lately, but if she's around, she'll come when I call." She says this with a smug certainty. Sasha was fucking terrified of her. "I can call her up next time."

She motions to Zenobia and Larry. "Those two gave me shit over that broadcast, so they don't get invited to that kind of party." A rain check would do for now, wouldn't it, Sparky?

Reno doesn't really remember what became of her parents, but she doesn't really care, either. There'd been a lot of kids without parents in the slums, no big deal. She never felt like she needed them. "Guess we were both lucky."

"I'd like that." She follows Dot's gesture with her gaze, noting who'd objected. "Some people don't know how to have fun. You let me know when the party is." She's not in any rush.

"Card games are okay, but I like other games better."

She'd made note of them for a reason, she found it relevant information to share with her fellow bitches.

"Maybe we should spice this one up then."

It is nice knowing who might object or like to play hero--if only to laugh at them, if nothing else.

"I could do with some extra spice. You got any ideas, baby?"

Dottie gives a shrug, tucking her hands in her pocket. "There's no cash, gotta ante up somethin' else."

She eyes the others, would have absolutely no problem fucking any of them, already sunk her teeth into the freak with the wing, but then again she's a monster just like them.

"They've got buttons to offer up."

Zenobia's eyes light up when she notices someone she's not met (Well, not that she knows of, anyway). She makes her way over to Reno. "Well, hello there. I don't think I've had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. My name's Zenobia."

Great, not this freak. Inwardly, Reno rolls her eyes, but outwardly, she gives an indifferent smile. "Yeah, we haven't met. Name's Reno."

"Nice to meet you. You're pretty cute, by the way." Zenobia is all smiles.

She does roll her eyes at this and does not say it's nice to meet Zenobia. People don't generally call Reno cute, for a variety of reasons. "I'm fucking hot, and don't you forget it."

She comes up alongside the pair of them. She gives Zenobia an appraising look, from behind her glasses, but ultimately keeps her peace about the wing.

"What was that?" Looks like they've already forgotten, Red.

Zenobia was about to concede that Reno is, indeed, hot, when this new person arrived.

"Oh, hello!" Zenobia eyes the newcomer, looking curious as ever. "I don't think we've met, either."

Her hands rest loosely in her pants pockets. She's always neater than Reno, more terse too.

"Name's Rude."

"Hey, Rude, I was just talking to this freak here." She smirks at her partner.

"I don't know, I'm not too impressed with the chicks here." Speaking as if Zenobia isn't there, she nods toward Larry. "That one's not bad. What do you think? Like any of them?" Her Who do you like? shtick is an old joke between them. She asks even when she knows the answer, standing close to Rude with a natural ease.

Rude glances at the rest of the woman, she hasn't spoken with most of them, but just like Reno, she keeps her eye on the vine. Her eyes linger on Larry though.

"That one's got a piece on her," she observes blandly. Whether or not she's in to any of them depends on how damn obnoxious they are.

"Nice to meet you, Rude."

Zenobia frowns a little at the 'freak' remark but quickly recovers. At Reno's comment, she takes a quick moments to check out every other woman here.

Reno continues to address Rude, not Zenobia. "Yeah, I know. Firepower's hot. Not that you need it." Not that they don't ever use guns, but Rude's so good with her hands. Not to mention hot.

"But mostly she's the most normal one."

"Mmmm, right." Zenobia is either ignoring the fact that she's being ignored or is too into checking out Larry to notice.

She returns her attention to Zenobia idly then. She doesn't like the monster bitches any more than her partner, but she likes to know things, so she asks,

"What's your deal then?" Cause she was definitely not normal.

Zenobia turns to Rude. "Oh, do you mean about the wing?" It twitches slightly. "I'm half-demon."

Half-demon, which just means someone was fucking around with entirely the wrong species and actually let the mutated little shit live. That was a recipe for disaster, Rude knew all about it first hand, but she just shrugs for the time being.

"That's unfortunate."

"Yeah, I guess it is pretty unfortunate." She frowns. While she doesn't like being talked about like that, if 'unfortunate' is the worst thing she hears, it'll be okay. She has to remind herself on how lucky she's been that so many people don't think poorly of her for the wing. Besides, maybe Rude didn't mean it like that, she thinks.

"That's one word for it." She's still not directing her remarks at Zenobia. "Maybe we ought to cut it off. Do our civic duty and beautify the community." She laughs, as if she's joking, but single wings are not her favorite feature, and that one's uglier than the psycho-SOLDIER wings.

"Someone cut it off when I was a child. ..." She shudders. "It grows back."

"Hm." She can't quite help the dark little smile that pulls at one corner of her mouth. Red has that effect on her, what can she say. It might just be their civic duty, besides. Never knew what the freaks in the parlor were capable of.

"Sounds messy," she decides, motioning idly towards the table. "We here to play cards, or what?"

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they say that they're winners

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