House Call

October 28th, 2014: Guy (Taskmaster in disguise) shows up on the Tin Roof doorstep looking for Rant and meets a fellow disguised individual Leonne (Selina Kyle).

Tin Roof Club

From the outside the Tin Roof Club resembles a factory, blending with the
rest of this area of East End, at least along the Eastern front, but from the
Tin Roof Club onward small venue's mottle the area, none as drawing as the
neon lights and the velvet rope banisters that wind their way towards the
large double doors.

The entry opens up to a large expanse of floor space, a few stairs leading
down to the main stretch, the tops of them lined with neon tubing, giving
that pale white floor a reflection and openness that casts reflections of
light further outward.

From neon bars to small round lights in the floors ledges and the sides of
booths, the darkness is only split by the careful placement of tubing and
small tinted bulbs in insets.

Spanning to the right is the Diamonds Bar and Lounge area, the back of the
bar behind the lines and rows of stocked bottles is mirrors, from shelf to
ceiling, cut in angles to resemble that of the head of diamonds. Stools rest
before the bar made of glass and mirrors, braced in metal and cushioned in
black and white to keep the look 'clean', what makes this spanse the lounge
is the benches that sprawl the area, circling tables or just in circles
together in comfortable clusters, spreading to the back where a drape covers
for further, yet, restricted access.

Spanning to the left are tables set for gambling and the more rowdy of those
that frequent the place, a great divide from one side to the other formed by
that of the dance floor and the runway of the stage. Where this side lacks a
bar lined with stools, the stools line that stage where a closer view of the
dancers and show can be had.

Hanging from the ceiling there are 'birdcages' sizeable enough for a dancing
body or two and on certain nights they tend to harbor the dancers, just out
of reach of those floor level but in view if they sit and recline to enjoy
the show.

Just enough shadows and barely enough light, this makes for the perfect
urban jungle keep.



  • Artie
  • Joey "Jabs"
  • Keith

Mood Music:
Diamonds and Guns by Transplants

Diamonds bar and lounge? That is where someone would find 'Guy' a middle aged man, balding, thick rimmed glasses, a distinctive paunch and a plain suit of drab grey with a pair of cowboy boots.

"Did you know William Hart bought BIlly the Kid's six shooters?" He is heard questioning the slumped drunken looking man next to him. A big fellow, big and rotund with no neck. He also seems entirely uninterested in the conversation. Guy doesn't apparently care, he's just talking away and drinking at his beer.

The man on the other side of the big man mumbles, "Dude never stops talking." Both the round fellow and the thin man are regulars, usually at the Tin Roof Club during these daytime hours before many of the rowdy or vicious crowd shows at night. The place has a reputation after all despite it's touch of luxury and style.

Daytime is low key, night time is a ravenous swirl of bodies with variant appetites - none of which exactly legal, though they can skirt by.

The cages hang empty, but spider webbing has been stretched to dangle from the bases, the bars wrapped in rusted cains and deep purple lights mingles with blacklight rimmed bases. All the regular lighting that keeps the dark crevices looking 'clean' are replaced with deep purple lights, and more blacklights, though during the daytime as of right now a few small accent lights of white are turned on to keep things resembling the nature of the outdoors. This is not the night owls with the /darker/ appetites.

Coming from behind the curtained backstage 'Leonne's' platform booted feet tread over the sleek surface of the stained black floor that typically contrasts against a white glowing dance space, now casting an eerie purple glow as well. The boots buckle around ankles, lifting her height to that of 6 foot in their platformed lift, around pale scarred legs is tattered fishnets of black and white, blood spatter stretching upward to add to the morose appeal of things the club is taking for the holiday. Vinyl shorts stretch across the span of hips, zippered and a sheen of white as well to match the white vinyl corseted seeming top where black laces cut upward vertically up each side, parallel over the compressed heave of bosom. Hair falls down over her shoulders, extension of white and black dreadlocks spattered in blood (though this is old abd /quite/ real)slap like effigy of whips along the lacked and buckled spanse of sine.

Around her waist is a whip acting as a belt, that leather braided weapon slapping upon mesh coated thigh with each step, though in her hand chains are wrapped around fingers tipped in diamond claws. Rightfully stolen only a month ago from Gotham's Fashion District Show. Hers.

"Keith, take this end, I'll stretch it along the bar…Excuse me boys." She says as she interrupts the banter to decorate morbidity further.

"Who the fuck is William Hart?" The big man who Selina/Leonne knows as Artie. The hefty fellow owns his own food cart the usually operates down the road (he claims he was once a four star chef but truth to that is unknown). He's got an unhealthy love for fast cars he can't afford and frequently talks about his wife's annoying birds or his daughter.

"William Hart? Well he is only one of the most if not /the/ most famous silent film heroes ever." The newcomer says like he is astounded no one knows such things. "He was in Ben-Hur, the Man from Nowhere.. the Darkening Trail… none of this rings a bell? What a shame." The odd things Guy remembers. Maybe it's this particular brand of scotch that is refreshing his memory. That palace is a tricky thing at times.

"Dude, no one cares. We don't even know you and you walk up talking this bullshit… " The skinny one speaking is Joe Gibson a 7-11 clerk who has a violent streak a mile long but is too much of a coward to be an actual criminal. One would think he kills small animals in his spare time but he has a bizarre love for cute, cuddly and all things fuzzy. He's a bit of a loud mouth, has shown to be quite tough in the past but when it comes down to it he is a chickenshit. Around these parts he is generally called Jabs, he's madly in love with a girl who dances here named Jordan but unfortunately for him shuts him down repeatedly. As such he's settled for his equally violent girlfriend who may very well be abusive as the man's shown up often with black eyes and busted lips he doesn't want to talk about or makes up stories about fights he may or may not have ever been in.

A low whistle escapes Guy while he adjusts his glasses and then large belt buckle at the sight of Leonne. Both men beside him seem to get a tad defensive at that as, being locals and regulars they've grown rather partial to the host and owner of the Tin Roof Club.

"Watch your step weirdo." Joe 'Jabs' Gibson warns.

Artie grunts and elbows his wiry friend in the side, "She can handle her own. Lets enjoy the show." Part because Artie is the polar opposite of Joe in the fact he hates violence and the other part - it's true.

Selina is used to that much, but typically from the night crowd who are several shots or beers into the night. Slowly she is rotating her wrist to unwind the chain as she slowly strolls past the trio, weaving the chain before them until she passes, pulling it taut in Keith's opposing grip to lift it over and around them.

The tender hands her small hooks that anchor into the under-eave of the bars top so patrons do not stab themselves and it does minimal damage to her property. Reaching beneath she pushes one hook in and loops a link of the chain into it, glancing sidelong at the three, the whistle one that only brings a thinning of those ruby lips, but one corner curls upward in amusement.

"Who's the new guy boys?" Artie and Joe is not need to speak for the man who wolf-whistled and adjusted what likely was larger compensation… Sapphire eyes scanning him now like he was laid bare before her, no violence, no overly harsh incrimination, but /cattiness/ and curiosity.

"What brings you to my Club?"
"Dunno." Artie states before slurping from his drink and moving (a little) to make room for their decorating.

Jabs pipes up, "Some weird old fuck who won't shut up about Westerns. I think his belt is on too tight." Expected out of the loud mouth young man. He's got a way with people.

The man chuckles and blatantly leans in his seat to let eyes run down the length of the Selina's body while she moves, "You can call me anything you like doll face, names Guy though. I'm a friend of Melody, I was actually here lookin' for her but now I'm around for the sweet sweet view… She'll know me, how many just Guys can she know? IF she doesn't say the Guy with the Jetta." A pudgy cowboy boot big-buckled Accountant looking fellow has got to be a friend of Rant's right? Right.

If anything 'Leonne' trusts her daytime crw more then her night time. For good reason, but none the less when a new face shows up unattacheed suspicions can easily rise, and by the looks of him… Even tossing out Melody's name is doing him no favors.

Sliding between the guys and the bar the chain is taking up a twisted hold, dangling in areas to let the rusted finish dabbled in blood spatters accent.

"Guy?" The look that is cast his way once more is incredulous, but now pausing to take in every minute detail just like he was her, but not as /pointedly/. "She has not mentioned you before…" But the look shows no surprise from the woman as she turns now before the trio and takes /Guys/ drink for herself, draining it and setting it aside on the bar top.

"What is it you do for my employee?"

Though not ignoring the other two she takes a moment to skim over 'Jabs', pausing on the reduced swell of his lower lip.

"You just let me know if I need to tattoo a bitch." And it is left at that as she knocks on the bars surface to have the tender bring them more drinks.
"Lets go Jabs." Artie says as he slides his considerable bulk off the stool to walk around Selina and Guy.

Jabs gives another stare at Guy before taking his drink with him and following the other man off. "Just yell if you need us okay?"

"Defensive lot here." Guy comments as the woman takes a drink of /his/ drink. She's got nice lips. Legs. Eyes. He's not gonna argue. "It's not what I do for her, it's what she does for me. Well, for my client at least." A card is handed over, a simple business card with a skull stylized with a shield and a T on it: 800-438-8278. "Keep it. Never know if it may come in handy."

After having what she considered a nice nap, Melody descends the stars and… promptly goes right back up. There is no way in hell she was about to ruin her day and explain that sort of madness to her friend.
Newp. Not today. Nuh uh.

Leonne takes the card and flicks it between her fingers upon her inspection, one manicured brow rising slowly as she focuses on a few points and then liufts her gaze to watch Jabs and Artie depart, giving them both an acknowledging nod before she looks back at 'Guy'.

"So what is it /you/ exactly do?" The card is lowered and one of the edges is tapped upon her netted thigh, held betwixt two fingers as she ticks off the moment between question and response. "I am sorry, but you do not look.." Her eyes drop and rise on him in that final words emphasis. "…like a skull and shield kind of guy." And she is a /mistress/ of her own disguise. They're in Gotham after all.
"Book by it's cover right? I could surprise you given the chance." Once more the man's eyes scale top to bottom then up again, blatantly creepy. A wide smile appears across Guy's features. "Damn you are a looker, though. What is your name?" A glance to his left and he thinks for a moment he might have spied the backside of Melody making her way up the stairwell. Maybe, maybe not.

Jabs must have not heard the Jab or he was too busy trying to be a tough guy to acknowledge it.

"Let me buy you a drink or three while I'm at it. This is a nice place here. I like smell of it, all that leather, booze and perfume."

A flicker, justa bare moment as she spies Melody retreating.

Not today Satan!

She'll be asking about that later, once this man makes his leave. Many can make Mel react that way though, even herself at times but it does not quite yet remove him from that scrutiny.

"It's hard to surprise me, Guy. If you are up to the challenge.." She says turning to accept the drinks, her own brought to lips and savored within the grip of the diamond overlain white-goldrings that fashion claws on each fingertip. A threat to the glasses surface, but none the 'ware has not already come in contact with in this den. "I am Leonne."

One sip had and he lowers her glass, rocking back to lean upon the bar, propping herself upright on bent elbows while facing outwards across the open floor and the few mottled guests s well as Guy.

"I have girls you can call. What do I get if I call you?" Now there's a smile, one unseen yet plying its odd trade across her features, one that speaks of a dangerous play.
"Me or my employer? Me, I'd give you one hell of a night that'd leave you walkin' funny with plenty of stories to tell these girls I could call. My employer though… well, /tasks/ are handled on a case by case basis." Guy looks her over curiously before another beer meets his lips drinking at it. "From what I've learned of this place and knowing your employee the bit I do I imagine this place is safe to talk. My employer is known through certain channels as Contingency T. He's a combat instructor, mercenary, security expert and an assassin." A smile hitches up Guy's features exposing his eerily straight teeth. Too perfect. It's bizarre when someones smile is so white and everything is just lined up in perfect symetry.

Holding up the card with a flick of her writ she flips it in front of him, holding it just between their direct lines of meeting eyesight with the small quirk of a smile. "So if I call this number I can have obstacles removed. Perhaps even a small scare implemented?" The card comes towards her now, tapping the edge upon her painted smile, leaving that red lined on the edge of the business card as it dimples into pouted flesh with every strike down.

"And you offer me a night most men boast, though with the way you made Melody retreat.." A joke, albeit a small one that has her smiling one that is all in pure jest…. At least she hopes.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License