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trans_92009-06-26 01:05 am
cardsharkgambit.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92009-06-26 01:05 am
Entry tags:
Shake Your Pom-Pom [OPEN TO ALL] [R for Poss. Language]
In the corner of one of the sensoriums, the meatship's resident Cajun stood at a table rotating a glass of half-drunk bourbon with his fingers. The loud thump of bass echoed throughout the room and even, perhaps, beyond into the hallway where it might attract passersby. When Gambit, bored out of his mind with nothing to do, had asked for a nightclub, he hadn't expected it to be so complete. The room was dark, the bar and lounge area lighted with low blue lights, while strobes flashed violently over the dance floor which was full of gyrating bodies. Hell, it even came with it's own cigarette smoke-filled air--although it, like the 'alcoholic' drinks--wasn't the slightest bit harmful.
It was the epitome of 'just a good time', complete with the lack of consequences that were likely to kick some in the butt in the morning if it'd all been real.
"Now dis what Gambit call a good time," he noted aloud, lifting his drink to his lips.
[OOC: That's right. It's a club. Don't feel that you have to reply to Gamibt. Treat this kinda like the meet-n-greets. Just throw up a subthread--or tag into one--with your character dancing, drinking, playing pool, darts, whatever and have fun with them. Just look at this as one big CR opportunity!!]
It was the epitome of 'just a good time', complete with the lack of consequences that were likely to kick some in the butt in the morning if it'd all been real.
"Now dis what Gambit call a good time," he noted aloud, lifting his drink to his lips.
[OOC: That's right. It's a club. Don't feel that you have to reply to Gamibt. Treat this kinda like the meet-n-greets. Just throw up a subthread--or tag into one--with your character dancing, drinking, playing pool, darts, whatever and have fun with them. Just look at this as one big CR opportunity!!]
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He walked over to the table, pulling a chair out and sliding into it. "Hope you ain't plannin' on playing Solitaire, friend."
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"I don't play with myself, pal," Sawyer replied, motioning for Raynor to take the empty seat across from him.
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Just as the words left Raynor's mouth, a thin blond waitress wearing a short skirt and a halter approached the table and set down a second pitcher of beer and a glass for Raynor, along with his own box of cigars and a lighter. Then, smiling, she turned and left the two Jim's to their own devices.
"Nice place they got here, eh?" Sawyer smiled, puffing on his cigar as he shuffled the deck again.
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It doesn't quite feel the same - something's missing, he can't put his finger on it - but it tastes the same. Good enough. "Nice service," Raynor returns with a grin - and then holds his hand out over the table. "Jim Raynor."
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He leaned back in his chair. "Unless you're talkin' Korhal Standard, probably ain't the same rules I know. Deal 'em anyway. I'll pick it up as we go."
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Sawyer nodded. They went through two or three hands of Sawyer taking it easy on Raynor long enough for the man to pick up on the rules and how things worked before finally settling into an actual game.
"So, Rambo," Sawyer said, tossing a 100 chip into the pot. "How ya likin' our little cruise ship? Nice and cozy, ain't she?"
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Jim peeked at his cards, met the 100, and then threw in another 25. "I've been in worse places. Damn good thing I didn't pay for the cruise ticket, though. Woulda had to ask for a refund."
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