Zeta, Quinne and Cecille all share a drink before a fight
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Zeta — 05/16/2021
The encounter with Harpur was something a wake-up call; if he and Ceci were to keep up this 'housemate' setup - and he'd no plan to throw them back to the Banditos or the slums of the Squares, never mind anyone old enough or determined enough to snoop for anything stranger among the two factions.
And frankly, he'd wanted to treat them - while he wasn't about to haul his friend anywhere with too much noise that wasn't already present in his shows, he did want to try to ease them into social situations, here and there. They would garner less squints as an individual or in a pair when they were just another low-level Mafia member, and Zeta would find more variety for Cec to try that wasn't just the garden-variety vendybars.
And Quinne was a mainstay. A Mafia interrogator on-duty, and a bartender for the cred, he was a fairly stoic, low-key, decent guy to chat with at any hour. He'd texted ahead to make sure he was still around, and - perhaps with a little friendly cajoling - he'd soon invite and escort Ceci out for a drink and to meet Another Friend...
Quinne — 05/16/2021
After the conversations on stepbook and the texts, Quinne headed back in after his brief break and went back to it. His phone was tucked away, and he'd check on those sitting at the bar, filling up drinks or fetching the occasional snack.
He kept an eye out for Zeta, however, but his attention was more focused on those who seemed a little too drunk to remain. Thankfully, the bouncers were as equally aware, so the Mafioso didn't need to point out anyone in particular.
Cecille — 05/16/2021
And Cecille certainly needed a little cajoling. They were normally withdrawn, and with nothing to work on—tinker with—no reason to risk leaving his apartment—if left unchecked, they threatened to revert to a primordial lump of blankets on the couch. At least in this state, they were willing to entertain Zeta's science fiction flicks (was that a laugh? A bit of enjoyment?), and—goodness, maybe even a little music.
Drinks weren't normally their scene either, but Zeta had sold them on the mellow atmosphere, and they trusted him if they Let Loose. Maybe. Probably not in front of an unknown Mafia. They'd managed dress pants and a button shirt, drab and grey so if they were Caught Out they couldn't be accused of impersonating Mafia, but just put-together enough so as not to draw double-takes.
They stuck close, entering beside Zeta and keeping their expression carefully neutral as they eyed the tables and the odd drunk. At least it wasn't loud. They still checked their shoulder on the way in.
Zeta — 05/17/2021
If they were insistent on burrowing into his couch, they'd at least have their choice of sci-fi serials and blankets that cred could afford. (Though he'd insisted he'd rather be around to explain those Time Lords if that's what they were aiming for!)
But his cajoling was at least careful cajoling; this wasn't a party atmosphere, and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to them while he was around. He'd been their guide through trips, before.
And for all of his insistence on the green suede on many days...the man did know how to clean up well and flaunt a properly and subtly purple suit when it behooved him. He kept close to Ceci and lifted a hand in greeting for the bartender, chirping a "Hey, Quinne!" before sliding into a stool at the bar and if allowed, escorting Cec to do the same.
For all of those plays at propriety though, he did seem fairly eager for the evening. "Nobody keeping you TOO busy today, I hope? Got more camera stuff for tonight~" Hopefully Harpur would win, this time - or else Frankie would just get the loss in glorious multi-angled hi-definition this time.
"Meet my housemate?" Of course he didn't. "Quinne, this is Cecille. Ceci, Quinne."
Quinne — 05/17/2021
When the pair finally made themselves over to the stools, Quinne nodded to them after cleaning a few glasses quickly. Atleast in the way of having them emptied, so they could be taken to the back to put through the dishwasher. "Good evening, Zeta. How are things?" He asked, and he looked to their very neutral-looking friend.
"It's not so bad tonight, no. Not quite the weekend, so it's just most people coming in for a quick drink after work." Somewhat peaceful, to him atleast. "I can't say I have." And his focus was back on Cecille, while he offered a hand their way. "It is good to meet you. I can't recall if Zeta's ever mentioned a housemate, but I also don't pry unless given the okay for it."
If they shook his hand, Quinne would set his hands to the counter after. "Camera stuff....do you think he'll get her this time?"
Cecille — 05/17/2021
Enough soft blankets and they'd never leave! Time lord explanations (with video examples) were not out of the question.
The muted purple was New, and they picked at the sleeve of his coat (the comments and mild snark were kept only within Zeta's hearing) before clearing their throat and tucking their hands into their own pockets. They could do Pleasantries. It had been a while, but.
They followed his lead and took up a stool beside him, offering Quinne a quiet, pleasant smile, eyebrows faintly tented. "Hello. Ah..." The hand they reached across to accept, shaking and releasing. "Oh. Well..." How should one politely say they didn’t get out much? "I see." Discreet Mafia seemed fitting for the kind of company Zeta would keep. "I am not very social..."
Picking up vaguely on the context, they leaned a little Zeta's way. "Is Harpur fighting that tall woman again?" Sorry, their bets were on Zakiya.
Zeta — 05/20/2021
He did not mind too much about being picked-at - though there was no shortage He'd told them he could dress up. Really, while Ceci might be the fashion plate of the pair, that didn't mean he couldn't put himself together, too. Under slight duress. Tiny duress. A suggestion, really.
"Things are good! Settling in, trained a little, booked a round of gigs. Watching Harpur make an ass of himself on social media. Nothing too wild." Then regarding whether Harpur would win, he grinned. "Hope he does, or else he'll never stop!" Also he might be killed or something. "And score a little revenge points or however they're keeping track of this thing."
And regarding Ceci not getting out much, he nodded, rolling his head on his shoulders a bit. "Yep. I'll be showbizzy enough for everyone at my place! But figured if they were out, might as well take them to the high-end spots, y'know?"
Quinne — 05/22/2021
After the handshake, Quinne relaxed again as he considered the pair. "That makes sense." Not everyone was social, and he wouldn't be the sort to question it. It simply was. "It is nice to meet you, though." As Zeta spoke, he nodded along. "Atleast it's the same old." Nothing wild, as he said.
"He is, yes. Hopefully it'll go better than last time." And with less the headache of multiplying fans. "They seem evenly matched atleast." He'd glance to Cecille when Zeta mentioned high-end spots and nodded, only to gesture behind him. "Well, you're both here. Do you want anything before my shift's over? I can't promise it's on the House, because then I don't get paid."
Cecille — 05/22/2021
Zeta came off as the type who could wear anything and look comfortable in it, but that didn't really compare to the affable confidence and magnetism of wearing what one felt comfortable in. He looked Nice. Put together. But the horrid green suede looked much more right. Their fingers lingered a smidge too long, more than likely an excuse to use him as a Barrier to Human Interaction; withdrawn with a quiet fidget to themself and a hum. Focusing on Quinne with that apologetic little smile. "You too. This is a much quieter venue than the others Zeta frequents." Despite being Step City, that was a compliment. One couldn't entirely escape music of course, but at least they could (almost) hear themself think.
"Hm. Fists seem his Style." The Indian's voice dipped to a faint mutter. Their one and only Run In with Harpur hadn't gone optimally, and it showed. Maybe they'd warm up to him.
"Ah... Hm." Oof, socializing and now social drinking? They looked to the wall of bottles. They carried what little money they had with them, and it would be rude to take up Quinne's time on-the-clock with chatter. He likely wouldn't get paid for chatter. ...Shoot. How expensive was a Mafia Bar as classy as this one. "Have you ever blended a cardamom blush...?"
Zeta — 05/26/2021
He seemed perfectly willing to play that Barrier as long as he needed...though his barriers were far more malleable and subject to dropping subtly and mischevously before anyone expected it. Surprise, you're friends now.
But presently, he didn't miss a beat and played off Quinne's statement regarding the payment with a grin and a head-bob that nearly, nearly carried into a wink (though that wink could still be heard in his tone; Zeta managed this effortlessly). "I'll have a Manhattan." Did people as young as Quinne even remember its namesake? Hell...
"Ehh, don't worry about it, Quinne! I got the cred for whatever they get. Just part of treatin' Cec." He did nod and roll his shoulders in gesture of confirmation when Ceci brought up how relatively quiet this place was.
And regarding Harpur, he hummed and quirked an eyebrow with a, "Yeah, me too. Keeps going as it's going, it'll reflect on the whole family, y'know?"
Quinne — 05/27/2021
Quinne nodded his agreement. "It has its merits there, but sometimes it gets a little loud." As most bars did likely, but people proved to be a bit more respectful there and not overtly rowdy. "One Manhattan, and a Cardamom Blush. I've never blended one before, but that doesn't mean I can't." A faint smile followed, but lasted no longer than a brief moment and he'd get to work. Ingredients and the manner in which it was made was reviewed first.
If the two preferred garnishes, he'd add them.
"Fists are indeed his style." He said once the glasses were slid over to them, atop napkins, and he'd straighten again. "It will, yeah. I'm not sure how to feel about that, but I'm not really a person to go out and throw fists over something on Stepbook."
Cecille — 05/27/2021
Cecille was savvy to Zeta's ways, and part of them was spiteful enough to metaphorically keep stepping back behind him whenever that 'barrier' moved. But he had good intentions, and if he said Quinne was Good People (for Mafia), then Cecille was inclined to trust him. He was right about Kaz.
The Square settled down at the bar as Zeta chimed in his intent to pay. That was... humbling. Embarrassing. They hated lacking proper income, being closed off to luxuries—being pitied and paid for. Zeta was treating them and it felt like a slight. It was quietly infuriating. They sucked it up with a composed face. They only had enough on them for maybe one drink anyhow.
Instead, he got a stone-faced, playful and quiet single-finger jab in his arm before returning their attention to Quinne. "This is... comfortable." They weren't sure 'cozy' would go over well. That sat too close to 'homely', which no Mafia would ever accept. But it was a nice, inviting atmosphere.
The talk turned to drinks, and they eyed the wall behind him. "Oh?" Quinne was turning away already, grabbing up the ingredients; maybe they caught that smile—it might have been a Humble Brag before a moment of showmanship. So Cecille leaned their arms on the bar, long fingers lightly laced as he worked. "Mixology is very interesting to watch... Is this something you picked up here? Or have you a longer Career in bartending." They weren't much for the Drink, but they could appreciate the artform and the practice that went into serving.
They reached out to carefully slide the drink the rest of the way, turning the glass a couple rotations in an idle fidget. "It seems rather silly. ...But I suppose it is a matter of Reputation."
Zeta — 06/05/2021
He deftly caught the drink Quinne slid to him, and offered him a quiet little salute that slipped smartly off his brow with two fingers, before he sat back for a moment and listened to their Harpur-talk.
If only he'd have known the thoughts running through Ceci's head...though he'd felt he'd had a pretty good idea. Enough years had gone by, enough shifts in power and dynamics - and fights about those shifts - between them had transpired for him to have at least ventured a good guess. That finger-jab helped, too. He rolled his shoulders, bobbed his head, and growled an equally playful and quiet "just this once!" for the umpteenth time.
Ceci's questions for Quinne were allowed plenty of breathing room. Yeah, the guy was a good hand with mixology, show them how it was done!
Regarding Harpur, he did add an "oh, yeah...he's always been like that, long as I knew him. Which, well. Long as he'd been trying to get in Frankie's good graces at any rate. Approval, validation seeking guy, and there's nothing quite as validating and reputation-building as beating the shit out of some orange people, I imagine." It was pleasant and without too much inflection. He might have had the motives down pat or might have been way off - but he wouldn't get too riled up about it either way! "Though trade-off for THAT is that the more that kind o'type loses, the wilder they'll be when they come back for revenge n'all. Can imagine that Zakiya's not all that different." They might be in for a Long Ride.
Quinne — 06/05/2021
Quinne was, of course, oblivious to poor Cecille's feelings. But, he was more content with someone paying!
"It is." He agreed in regards to their description of the place, and continued to work, but was happy to see what either thought of their drinks. "Here and there, after I got my license for it. Practice is...often, because there's a lot to mix and all sorts of techniques." And a lot to memorize.
"Suppose there's that." In regards to Harpur, though he idly wondered how long it'd be until that lost the respect the other Mafioso was hoping to gain and keep. "If they become an issue, we'll likely deal with it in the same way as others." Zakiya was a powerhouse, but they were still a person and Quinne was sure she'd topple at some point. "I'm not too concerned. It's the public image Harpur will get if he keeps losing is what will, because he represents us a great deal."
Cecille — 06/05/2021
Cecille had a lot of Thoughts going on, and it wasn't unusual for them to lapse into distracted silence. That lackadaisical shrug of Zeta's brought about a glimpse of their token sleepy, apologetic smile. He was too damn good at diffusing things.
They slid their drink closer, rotating the glass. "I have never had one, but saw an ad displaying a photo. I thought the name was intriguing. ...I suppose I am slave to Good Marketing." They tentatively sipped it, listening to the two converse on Harpur. Mafia reputation and public image, all the things they nodded along as if it in any way concerned them. It would stay that way unless Zeta pointed out where they 'stood', faction-wise.
The Cardamom Blush had that expected bite of alcohol, and they withheld a frown. They never imbibed, so of course they weren't used to the tang of alcohol. Not wanting Quinne to think they didn't like it, they took another, longer sip. Through the bitters, they could taste the warming spice of the cardamom and the heady floral notes of rose. Having completely checked out of their entire exchange, they instead hummed approvingly at the drink. ANOTHER. (No, they had to finish this one first.) "This is very nice."
Zeta — 06/11/2021
He'd finally sipped as the others talked; brightening a bit, but remaining duly silent, he made due with (somewhat ridiculously) gesturing at the drink, humming appreciatively and flashing, in order, the thumbs-up sign, the okay-hand and - too slow, Cec, there went the cred - fluttery, colorful and straight to Quinne - slipped in a feint of another hand motion without skipping a beat. Hah. Cec. Accept his gifts, damn it!
"Yeah, exactly. Losing control isn't very 'Mafia,' you know? 'Least, that's the rep I'm getting out of it all, these days. Though...suppose I guess I'd rather this fight club thing than like...a war, again." That was slightly more careful and a little more intentionally vague. There were folks he'd known that were gunning for another battle with the UG (or mourning their being too young to get involved) and others that were happy for the tenuous quiet. "I guess compared to that, I'd prefer two giants beating the shit out of each other under some grungy Stepchat filter!"
Cec finally fell silent - not unusual in and of itself - and Zeta did feel an unwelcome pang of sharp and heavy guilt that the trio had steered this into a very Mafia-oriented conversation...but really, should he have expected anything else when taking them out to these things, giving them a safe place and a taste of something more than poverty, should he start to buckle down about this 'taking them into Purple' thing? They sipped their own drink; Zeta looked over in a semi-discreet check on them that was probably a bit less discreet in practice than he'd imagined. And the Look he'd flashed them in the span of merely a moment was meaningful and purely existed in his eyes and the tiniest of head-nods - were they okay? Don't...doooon't...finish that? If they weren't?
Quinne — 06/14/2021
"Isn't that the way it goes?" Quinne, himself, gave in occasionally, though people did their marketing well and a lot held his interest. He got himself a glass of water (because he was working!), only to move away a moment to handle a couple quiet customers to get them drinks and put dirty glasses in another bin.
"Yes, that's fair. Minor fights are better than people getting killed." He was sure neither Zakiya or Harpur would kill each other, though it was still a minor concern if someone hit the wrong spot a little too hard. "We should do a more amusing filter if there's a third time." Just for their personal enjoyment, rather than ridiculing Harpur to the masses.
"I'm glad you enjoy it." He said genuinely to Cecille and took a drink from his glass, though the look from Zeta to them was noted. Given they were friends, the bartender didn't really pay it too much mind. Zeta was the sort to care a lot, so it wasn't something he'd see as worth focusing on.
Cecille — 06/19/2021
Usually Cecille was more on-the-ball with sleight-of-hand, snagging generous credits before they got dolled out on their behalf. They did react, looked up, but Zeta was already sliding it over, and they pursed their lips in a look that was more played for laughs than truly exasperated. It segued to a humming laugh to Quinne, then back to their drink, another gentle turn of the glass in a fidget of their long fingers before they stole a sip.
And then quiet. War was heavy, and Quinne was... Mid-twenties, maybe? He was young, he couldn't have been old enough to remember most of these events, but he certainly didn't seem to have the bloodlust of a few of the younger generation. In Zeta's words, 'Good People'. Another look was sent the green man's way at the topic anyhow, just in time to catch his back at them. In that short span their expression was searching, eyes briefly darting between his until they warmed into something faintly apologetic, typical, a tenting of their eyebrows and that little smile. They tilted their head faintly to assure him that they were fine, that this was still a pleasant outing, that Quinne was good company. They didn't want him to wallow in guilt. Whatever his plan was in 'taking them into Purple'. The drink got a little toast and a sip. It was interesting. They could appreciate it.
"Thank you. Is... Bartending your passion, or is this merely to pay the bills?" Did the Mafia even charge bills. As a Verified Apartment Squatter, they had no idea.
Zeta — 06/26/2021
His eyes met Ceci's as the topic dipped into war. He'd said nothing, it was little more than a moment, but his look to them was an unspoken check-in. He mirrored their head-tilt, and ventured a little smile of his own - he was glad they were fine, and yeah. Yeah. He was doing fine, too.
And oh, Quinne, that was the exact wrong thing to suggest - or perhaps the exact right thing to stem the talk (or burgeoning memory) of war, and who was Zeta to resist anything even mildly amusing? Zeta lit up with badly-restrained glee at the suggestion of adding filters for their own video.
"Quinne. Quinne. Do you have one with like...kitty ears. Or sparkles. Or those flowers that float out from the center of a person like an old romance anime? I prefer the sparkles...but I'm sure we both have punching immunity if we go full romance flowers and he finds out, huh?"
And he'd fall silent once more to allow Quinne and Ceci to exchange a few of their own questions. The plan was to get to know the Good People, after all!
Quinne — 06/27/2021
The non-verbal communication wasn't given much acknowledgement, and he was happy to leave the pair to it. Whatever was going on there was certainly not any of his business. Instead, he let his eyes wander away and he'd tend to his own glass on occasion.
In regards to filters... "I don't, but I can certainly start downloading some." Right then and there even, because he pulled out his phone immediately. "You probably have more immunity to it than I do. Harpur and I really don't talk a lot." Work relationship, likely, if any.
"Both. I don't really buy a lot for myself, mostly premade meals or from restaurants. It saves me time, since I don't know a lot about cooking." Not enough to get him by. He could bake desserts, but that didn't do much for him. "And it's fun to do."
Cecille — 07/01/2021
Unfortunately Quinne was stuck in the middle of a Conversation of the Eyebrows (or delphonese). Cecille pursed their lips at Zeta, hesitating before discreetly reaching across from under a bar with a hand that only awkwardly grazed his elbow; it was an attempt at Reassurance before withdrawing it back to their own lap. The moved to take another sip of their drink.
"'Kitty ears'? Do you? Have 'punching immunity', that is." Maybe Zeta underestimated his Standing. Not to say they wouldn't laugh; the quiet amusement in their eyes said that already. But seriously, he was inviting an Angry Harpur. The Square very subtly leaned forward a bit, not quite at a good enough angle to see what filters Quinne was downloading, and using their drink as a prop to hide their mouth.
"Oh, I see." It was...! Hm. They needed a new Topic. They weren't great at smalltalk—maybe something they shared with Quinne. There was another glance to Zeta. Should they ask about the weather? "I was never much of a chef... Ah. How do you know Zeta? ...Or is this 'it'." Met at a Bar, classic story.
Zeta — 07/04/2021
"Download them all - you know those two aren't gonna' slow down. It's strictly for experimentation after all. What's that one with the cartoon eyes...?" He was leaning over now with restrained, giddy glee, ready to peruse the absolute most ridiculous Stepchat filters, and how hilariously poorly they'd fit when pasted over a pair of giants. Dainty and cute ones were probably the best...
"I've got some immunity, s'pose. He trashed a brisket at my door when he was mad, couple weeks back, so I guess I'd rather have the food suffer than the people suffer!"
And then, Cec asked after how the two knew each other. "Heh! Y'mean, beyond 'I come visit all the time' and 'Best drinks in the district?'" He scooted back off of his perch over the bar, though with that came some dampening of that impish energy.
"His parents and I trained, way back when." It was slightly more clipped in the way that implied the conversation was one that would easily end there, though it was no less pleasant or easygoing; a contradiction only Zeta could manage with his unique ease. "Good people, good Steppers, too."
Quinne — 07/05/2021
"They'd be too busy to realize, and once it's uploaded, it'll be too late." As Zeta suggested, Quinne would definitely download them all. Cartoon eyes, it'd be though! He'd turn his phone towards Cecille afterwards, so they could look through the list if they were inclined. It wasn't as if he had anything concerning to worry about popping up when/if they did so.
"Trashed a brisket.." Seemed like a good thing a member of a family did, classy even. Quinne didn't look impressed.
When Cecille asked about how they knew each other, Quinne let him reply and nodded along. "Then Zeta just sort of remained afterwards. Not that I'm complaining, especially with the compliment towards my drinks there." A moment of faux arrogance. 'Best drinks in the District', indeed.
"Anyway, should we be off? Get there and set up before they do?"
Cecille — 07/08/2021
Quinne was far too confident in his ability to Meme the hell out of a fight. ...Cecille suspected he must run an entire StepTube account on the side. They hummed thoughtfully. Zeta had nearly climbed his way over the bar, and Cecille pushed their glass out of the way to clear just enough room to rest their face in their hand, a conflicted look of exasperation and amusement. Only to lean in too once Quinne turned the phone their way, although they avoided Zeta's lengths of sitting on the bar (he was being judged). They murmured their delight at some of the sillier filters.
"Brisket? What did he do, throw it at your door? Goodness, why." Was there an easy answer? They didn't know Harpur well enough, they had only one impression to go off of so far. They weren't sure they were expecting a full story there, either, and moved smoothly back to Smalltalk.
"Ah, I see." They got his tone, leaving it at that, and neatly tucking away any Nagging Curiosity for Later. "Yes, he does that." 'Remain'. They checked their phone for the time, assuming they were coming up on the end of Quinne's shift. "Oh, I suppose so." Not wanting to waste a good drink, they rotated it carefully by the stem, once, twice, and promptly downed the remains--before spluttering.
Zeta — 07/11/2021
"Yeah. I remain." *THAT was a smile, small, with different tones for each of the pair present. "'Abide.' I got a coupla' more compliments where that came from too, man" The bar and Zeta's slightly inconvenient positioning saved Quinne from an outright playful shoulder-nudge that time. "Just dolin' 'em out in moderation for now!"
He knew he was being judged, and owned the hell out of it anyway, gleefully pointing out some ludicrous filters (and a couple of 'hey, maybe this? Try it on me...'s) before finally retreating to his stool.
"We don't always get along. On account of the...sport-hunting. More earlier-on...but he's not seen what I've seen." He knew Quinne's gig, but there was a difference between what Quinne did, and what Harpur enjoyed. And to Zeta's credit, he played it off as something that could be said in polite company, seemingly effortlessly, though his mind was on Ceci...and Neeva and Dante.
Ceci knew; Harpur had threatened them the first time they'd met after all, and it still was a sore and infuriating spot on which he'd return to dwell, and something that no doubt hampered Zeta's interactions with the guy, yet - as this fell before certain Events and subsequent scenes in the timeline. The Look exchanged there with Ceci was a brief but meaningful one.
"He's also really easy to wind up." More innocently! "I pranked him over a food post, and he threw a perfectly good brisket at my door. Like the utter nerve, you know?!" THAT was something he grinned at, unrepentantly. He'd prank, and prank again - the food was a Harpur casualty as far as he was concerned. Then he bit his lip, bobbed his head. "That's honestly it, that's the story. I'd rather the brisket than the fist, just means he makes it again, right?"
He did rise then as Quinne's shift appeared to come to a close.
"Yeah. Punch out, we can wait up if you like. Swing by my place, clean up dress down a little, 'case it gets messy or something."
Quinne — 07/12/2021
Quinne likely did, though the rest of them would have to find that on their own!
Zeta's choice of perch didn't concern him, and he was content to let Cecille look through the filters in the meantime. Their small delight was enough! "For now." He repeated, amused. For now was a usual mention. As the older man requested, he was more than happy to try the filters out on him. Some taken with simple pictures, others recorded - likely to send to Zeta later rather than keep them for himself. "Ah, of course." To the mention of Harpur, but it was to be expected, no one got along all the time.
That look offered to Cecille was given some consideration, but as before, Quinne didn't pry. If it was important to know, the bar wasn't a place for it. "He does seem a bit hotheaded." Afterall, they were going to watch a fight that started because of raging on Stepbook. "Yeah, we can do that. I won't take long." He looked amused when Cecille spluttered after sucking down their drink, and he'd put his phone away. "You could've just sipped it while I was away." He pointed out, only to wander off to, indeed, clock out and get his things from the back.
When he returned, a few moments later, he had a coat overtop his uniform and a bag with anything else needed tossed in. "Ready when you both are."
Cecille — 07/14/2021
"It's a nasty habit, really." The doctor had propped an elbow up on the bar in the meantime, chin barely resting on a few fingers, the barb thrown with half-lidded amusement. Zeta's lean over the bar was playfully ridiculous, and a greater person might have taken advantage, or else focused their quips in that direction. Cecille wasn't entirely oblivious, but certainly wrapped up in their own Wit, though they spared Zeta a briefly appreciative glance before he plunked himself back down in his stool. Yes, they looked at the butt. Stop flaunting it.
Harpur was a Weird subject, so they let Zeta tackle that. He knew him better. The look got that same, pursed smile at an attempt at being reassuring. "He is… Hm. I have only spoken to him a handful of times." The topic was quick to move on anyhow, and Cecille scrutinized Quinne's selection of filters, pointing out a few for him to try on Zeta, and muffling their snickers.
Which turned into splutters as they coughed up the remnants of their drink. With a fist to their mouth, they cleared their throat loudly a few times, face a bit red. "Ah, sorry. I was attempting to match the Urgency of our departure. I hope you won't take that as a slight against your drink. I don't often consume alcohol."
They swiveled in their seat and stood, waiting by Zeta for Quinne to clock out. Onward to fistfights?
Zeta — 07/15/2021
"Hotheaded - yeah, y'got that right! Lucky you're not orange, they know better'n anyone! Well." That lip-bite, head-bob of a shrug. "At this rate, lucky you're not Zakiya. Or anyone moderating Stepbook."
Zeta wouldn't have known they were checking him out. Appreciating respectfully, of course. If anything, they were spared him teasing them later in private about it, and he slunk back down and waited for Quinne without any sort of comment about it. A success!
Instead, he'd added, far more soberly, "Yeah..." There were clearly more thoughts there too. "He's one of those guys that's like...always around, y'know? And probably will be more after that night at my show. Just hope he behave himself." The delivery was incredibly even without skipping a beat, but any exceptionally observant or imaginative might have seen the electric lights around them brighten in a small but sharp surge at those last two words. Thankfully Nina wouldn't be replacing any of her lights, today.
He rose and offered an arm for Ceci to take, with a low "y'sure you're okay?" only meat for them at the end of their splutters, adding an "I got you, if it hits y'quick." Which was a given, anyway - but they wouldn't be
They'd have to put up with the new and oddly, properly-purple jacket once more on the way out.
And shortly Quinne reappeared and Zeta outright grinned at him, accentuating it properly with a brief bob of his head. "Yeah, I'm good. Cec, you good? Let's head on over!"
And onward to fistfights! And future doctoring!
Quinne — 07/15/2021
"Yeah, that's fair." Quinne was glad to be neither, but his job and faction fit him very well. UG didn't have much in the ways of something appealing, but that was likely due to prior familial connections. Cecille's wandering eyes hadn't been given any notice, but that was between them too. "I wouldn't know, really. I don't spend a lot of time around Harpur."
He had his crowd, it'd seem, and Quinne had his own. It suited him just fine. The flickering lights did catch his eye, but he merely smirked. "'Hm' is a good description." To Cecille, who got the requests of Zeta in filters without hesitation. He'd even save a couple, but likely to send to Cecille if they got to the point of exchanging numbers.
"Nah, you're good."
Once he clocked, he'd walk with them to said fight!
The encounter with Harpur was something a wake-up call; if he and Ceci were to keep up this 'housemate' setup - and he'd no plan to throw them back to the Banditos or the slums of the Squares, never mind anyone old enough or determined enough to snoop for anything stranger among the two factions.
And frankly, he'd wanted to treat them - while he wasn't about to haul his friend anywhere with too much noise that wasn't already present in his shows, he did want to try to ease them into social situations, here and there. They would garner less squints as an individual or in a pair when they were just another low-level Mafia member, and Zeta would find more variety for Cec to try that wasn't just the garden-variety vendybars.
And Quinne was a mainstay. A Mafia interrogator on-duty, and a bartender for the cred, he was a fairly stoic, low-key, decent guy to chat with at any hour. He'd texted ahead to make sure he was still around, and - perhaps with a little friendly cajoling - he'd soon invite and escort Ceci out for a drink and to meet Another Friend...
Quinne — 05/16/2021
After the conversations on stepbook and the texts, Quinne headed back in after his brief break and went back to it. His phone was tucked away, and he'd check on those sitting at the bar, filling up drinks or fetching the occasional snack.
He kept an eye out for Zeta, however, but his attention was more focused on those who seemed a little too drunk to remain. Thankfully, the bouncers were as equally aware, so the Mafioso didn't need to point out anyone in particular.
Cecille — 05/16/2021
And Cecille certainly needed a little cajoling. They were normally withdrawn, and with nothing to work on—tinker with—no reason to risk leaving his apartment—if left unchecked, they threatened to revert to a primordial lump of blankets on the couch. At least in this state, they were willing to entertain Zeta's science fiction flicks (was that a laugh? A bit of enjoyment?), and—goodness, maybe even a little music.
Drinks weren't normally their scene either, but Zeta had sold them on the mellow atmosphere, and they trusted him if they Let Loose. Maybe. Probably not in front of an unknown Mafia. They'd managed dress pants and a button shirt, drab and grey so if they were Caught Out they couldn't be accused of impersonating Mafia, but just put-together enough so as not to draw double-takes.
They stuck close, entering beside Zeta and keeping their expression carefully neutral as they eyed the tables and the odd drunk. At least it wasn't loud. They still checked their shoulder on the way in.
Zeta — 05/17/2021
If they were insistent on burrowing into his couch, they'd at least have their choice of sci-fi serials and blankets that cred could afford. (Though he'd insisted he'd rather be around to explain those Time Lords if that's what they were aiming for!)
But his cajoling was at least careful cajoling; this wasn't a party atmosphere, and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to them while he was around. He'd been their guide through trips, before.
And for all of his insistence on the green suede on many days...the man did know how to clean up well and flaunt a properly and subtly purple suit when it behooved him. He kept close to Ceci and lifted a hand in greeting for the bartender, chirping a "Hey, Quinne!" before sliding into a stool at the bar and if allowed, escorting Cec to do the same.
For all of those plays at propriety though, he did seem fairly eager for the evening. "Nobody keeping you TOO busy today, I hope? Got more camera stuff for tonight~" Hopefully Harpur would win, this time - or else Frankie would just get the loss in glorious multi-angled hi-definition this time.
"Meet my housemate?" Of course he didn't. "Quinne, this is Cecille. Ceci, Quinne."
Quinne — 05/17/2021
When the pair finally made themselves over to the stools, Quinne nodded to them after cleaning a few glasses quickly. Atleast in the way of having them emptied, so they could be taken to the back to put through the dishwasher. "Good evening, Zeta. How are things?" He asked, and he looked to their very neutral-looking friend.
"It's not so bad tonight, no. Not quite the weekend, so it's just most people coming in for a quick drink after work." Somewhat peaceful, to him atleast. "I can't say I have." And his focus was back on Cecille, while he offered a hand their way. "It is good to meet you. I can't recall if Zeta's ever mentioned a housemate, but I also don't pry unless given the okay for it."
If they shook his hand, Quinne would set his hands to the counter after. "Camera stuff....do you think he'll get her this time?"
Cecille — 05/17/2021
Enough soft blankets and they'd never leave! Time lord explanations (with video examples) were not out of the question.
The muted purple was New, and they picked at the sleeve of his coat (the comments and mild snark were kept only within Zeta's hearing) before clearing their throat and tucking their hands into their own pockets. They could do Pleasantries. It had been a while, but.
They followed his lead and took up a stool beside him, offering Quinne a quiet, pleasant smile, eyebrows faintly tented. "Hello. Ah..." The hand they reached across to accept, shaking and releasing. "Oh. Well..." How should one politely say they didn’t get out much? "I see." Discreet Mafia seemed fitting for the kind of company Zeta would keep. "I am not very social..."
Picking up vaguely on the context, they leaned a little Zeta's way. "Is Harpur fighting that tall woman again?" Sorry, their bets were on Zakiya.
Zeta — 05/20/2021
He did not mind too much about being picked-at - though there was no shortage He'd told them he could dress up. Really, while Ceci might be the fashion plate of the pair, that didn't mean he couldn't put himself together, too. Under slight duress. Tiny duress. A suggestion, really.
"Things are good! Settling in, trained a little, booked a round of gigs. Watching Harpur make an ass of himself on social media. Nothing too wild." Then regarding whether Harpur would win, he grinned. "Hope he does, or else he'll never stop!" Also he might be killed or something. "And score a little revenge points or however they're keeping track of this thing."
And regarding Ceci not getting out much, he nodded, rolling his head on his shoulders a bit. "Yep. I'll be showbizzy enough for everyone at my place! But figured if they were out, might as well take them to the high-end spots, y'know?"
Quinne — 05/22/2021
After the handshake, Quinne relaxed again as he considered the pair. "That makes sense." Not everyone was social, and he wouldn't be the sort to question it. It simply was. "It is nice to meet you, though." As Zeta spoke, he nodded along. "Atleast it's the same old." Nothing wild, as he said.
"He is, yes. Hopefully it'll go better than last time." And with less the headache of multiplying fans. "They seem evenly matched atleast." He'd glance to Cecille when Zeta mentioned high-end spots and nodded, only to gesture behind him. "Well, you're both here. Do you want anything before my shift's over? I can't promise it's on the House, because then I don't get paid."
Cecille — 05/22/2021
Zeta came off as the type who could wear anything and look comfortable in it, but that didn't really compare to the affable confidence and magnetism of wearing what one felt comfortable in. He looked Nice. Put together. But the horrid green suede looked much more right. Their fingers lingered a smidge too long, more than likely an excuse to use him as a Barrier to Human Interaction; withdrawn with a quiet fidget to themself and a hum. Focusing on Quinne with that apologetic little smile. "You too. This is a much quieter venue than the others Zeta frequents." Despite being Step City, that was a compliment. One couldn't entirely escape music of course, but at least they could (almost) hear themself think.
"Hm. Fists seem his Style." The Indian's voice dipped to a faint mutter. Their one and only Run In with Harpur hadn't gone optimally, and it showed. Maybe they'd warm up to him.
"Ah... Hm." Oof, socializing and now social drinking? They looked to the wall of bottles. They carried what little money they had with them, and it would be rude to take up Quinne's time on-the-clock with chatter. He likely wouldn't get paid for chatter. ...Shoot. How expensive was a Mafia Bar as classy as this one. "Have you ever blended a cardamom blush...?"
Zeta — 05/26/2021
He seemed perfectly willing to play that Barrier as long as he needed...though his barriers were far more malleable and subject to dropping subtly and mischevously before anyone expected it. Surprise, you're friends now.
But presently, he didn't miss a beat and played off Quinne's statement regarding the payment with a grin and a head-bob that nearly, nearly carried into a wink (though that wink could still be heard in his tone; Zeta managed this effortlessly). "I'll have a Manhattan." Did people as young as Quinne even remember its namesake? Hell...
"Ehh, don't worry about it, Quinne! I got the cred for whatever they get. Just part of treatin' Cec." He did nod and roll his shoulders in gesture of confirmation when Ceci brought up how relatively quiet this place was.
And regarding Harpur, he hummed and quirked an eyebrow with a, "Yeah, me too. Keeps going as it's going, it'll reflect on the whole family, y'know?"
Quinne — 05/27/2021
Quinne nodded his agreement. "It has its merits there, but sometimes it gets a little loud." As most bars did likely, but people proved to be a bit more respectful there and not overtly rowdy. "One Manhattan, and a Cardamom Blush. I've never blended one before, but that doesn't mean I can't." A faint smile followed, but lasted no longer than a brief moment and he'd get to work. Ingredients and the manner in which it was made was reviewed first.
If the two preferred garnishes, he'd add them.
"Fists are indeed his style." He said once the glasses were slid over to them, atop napkins, and he'd straighten again. "It will, yeah. I'm not sure how to feel about that, but I'm not really a person to go out and throw fists over something on Stepbook."
Cecille — 05/27/2021
Cecille was savvy to Zeta's ways, and part of them was spiteful enough to metaphorically keep stepping back behind him whenever that 'barrier' moved. But he had good intentions, and if he said Quinne was Good People (for Mafia), then Cecille was inclined to trust him. He was right about Kaz.
The Square settled down at the bar as Zeta chimed in his intent to pay. That was... humbling. Embarrassing. They hated lacking proper income, being closed off to luxuries—being pitied and paid for. Zeta was treating them and it felt like a slight. It was quietly infuriating. They sucked it up with a composed face. They only had enough on them for maybe one drink anyhow.
Instead, he got a stone-faced, playful and quiet single-finger jab in his arm before returning their attention to Quinne. "This is... comfortable." They weren't sure 'cozy' would go over well. That sat too close to 'homely', which no Mafia would ever accept. But it was a nice, inviting atmosphere.
The talk turned to drinks, and they eyed the wall behind him. "Oh?" Quinne was turning away already, grabbing up the ingredients; maybe they caught that smile—it might have been a Humble Brag before a moment of showmanship. So Cecille leaned their arms on the bar, long fingers lightly laced as he worked. "Mixology is very interesting to watch... Is this something you picked up here? Or have you a longer Career in bartending." They weren't much for the Drink, but they could appreciate the artform and the practice that went into serving.
They reached out to carefully slide the drink the rest of the way, turning the glass a couple rotations in an idle fidget. "It seems rather silly. ...But I suppose it is a matter of Reputation."
Zeta — 06/05/2021
He deftly caught the drink Quinne slid to him, and offered him a quiet little salute that slipped smartly off his brow with two fingers, before he sat back for a moment and listened to their Harpur-talk.
If only he'd have known the thoughts running through Ceci's head...though he'd felt he'd had a pretty good idea. Enough years had gone by, enough shifts in power and dynamics - and fights about those shifts - between them had transpired for him to have at least ventured a good guess. That finger-jab helped, too. He rolled his shoulders, bobbed his head, and growled an equally playful and quiet "just this once!" for the umpteenth time.
Ceci's questions for Quinne were allowed plenty of breathing room. Yeah, the guy was a good hand with mixology, show them how it was done!
Regarding Harpur, he did add an "oh, yeah...he's always been like that, long as I knew him. Which, well. Long as he'd been trying to get in Frankie's good graces at any rate. Approval, validation seeking guy, and there's nothing quite as validating and reputation-building as beating the shit out of some orange people, I imagine." It was pleasant and without too much inflection. He might have had the motives down pat or might have been way off - but he wouldn't get too riled up about it either way! "Though trade-off for THAT is that the more that kind o'type loses, the wilder they'll be when they come back for revenge n'all. Can imagine that Zakiya's not all that different." They might be in for a Long Ride.
Quinne — 06/05/2021
Quinne was, of course, oblivious to poor Cecille's feelings. But, he was more content with someone paying!
"It is." He agreed in regards to their description of the place, and continued to work, but was happy to see what either thought of their drinks. "Here and there, after I got my license for it. Practice is...often, because there's a lot to mix and all sorts of techniques." And a lot to memorize.
"Suppose there's that." In regards to Harpur, though he idly wondered how long it'd be until that lost the respect the other Mafioso was hoping to gain and keep. "If they become an issue, we'll likely deal with it in the same way as others." Zakiya was a powerhouse, but they were still a person and Quinne was sure she'd topple at some point. "I'm not too concerned. It's the public image Harpur will get if he keeps losing is what will, because he represents us a great deal."
Cecille — 06/05/2021
Cecille had a lot of Thoughts going on, and it wasn't unusual for them to lapse into distracted silence. That lackadaisical shrug of Zeta's brought about a glimpse of their token sleepy, apologetic smile. He was too damn good at diffusing things.
They slid their drink closer, rotating the glass. "I have never had one, but saw an ad displaying a photo. I thought the name was intriguing. ...I suppose I am slave to Good Marketing." They tentatively sipped it, listening to the two converse on Harpur. Mafia reputation and public image, all the things they nodded along as if it in any way concerned them. It would stay that way unless Zeta pointed out where they 'stood', faction-wise.
The Cardamom Blush had that expected bite of alcohol, and they withheld a frown. They never imbibed, so of course they weren't used to the tang of alcohol. Not wanting Quinne to think they didn't like it, they took another, longer sip. Through the bitters, they could taste the warming spice of the cardamom and the heady floral notes of rose. Having completely checked out of their entire exchange, they instead hummed approvingly at the drink. ANOTHER. (No, they had to finish this one first.) "This is very nice."
Zeta — 06/11/2021
He'd finally sipped as the others talked; brightening a bit, but remaining duly silent, he made due with (somewhat ridiculously) gesturing at the drink, humming appreciatively and flashing, in order, the thumbs-up sign, the okay-hand and - too slow, Cec, there went the cred - fluttery, colorful and straight to Quinne - slipped in a feint of another hand motion without skipping a beat. Hah. Cec. Accept his gifts, damn it!
"Yeah, exactly. Losing control isn't very 'Mafia,' you know? 'Least, that's the rep I'm getting out of it all, these days. Though...suppose I guess I'd rather this fight club thing than like...a war, again." That was slightly more careful and a little more intentionally vague. There were folks he'd known that were gunning for another battle with the UG (or mourning their being too young to get involved) and others that were happy for the tenuous quiet. "I guess compared to that, I'd prefer two giants beating the shit out of each other under some grungy Stepchat filter!"
Cec finally fell silent - not unusual in and of itself - and Zeta did feel an unwelcome pang of sharp and heavy guilt that the trio had steered this into a very Mafia-oriented conversation...but really, should he have expected anything else when taking them out to these things, giving them a safe place and a taste of something more than poverty, should he start to buckle down about this 'taking them into Purple' thing? They sipped their own drink; Zeta looked over in a semi-discreet check on them that was probably a bit less discreet in practice than he'd imagined. And the Look he'd flashed them in the span of merely a moment was meaningful and purely existed in his eyes and the tiniest of head-nods - were they okay? Don't...doooon't...finish that? If they weren't?
Quinne — 06/14/2021
"Isn't that the way it goes?" Quinne, himself, gave in occasionally, though people did their marketing well and a lot held his interest. He got himself a glass of water (because he was working!), only to move away a moment to handle a couple quiet customers to get them drinks and put dirty glasses in another bin.
"Yes, that's fair. Minor fights are better than people getting killed." He was sure neither Zakiya or Harpur would kill each other, though it was still a minor concern if someone hit the wrong spot a little too hard. "We should do a more amusing filter if there's a third time." Just for their personal enjoyment, rather than ridiculing Harpur to the masses.
"I'm glad you enjoy it." He said genuinely to Cecille and took a drink from his glass, though the look from Zeta to them was noted. Given they were friends, the bartender didn't really pay it too much mind. Zeta was the sort to care a lot, so it wasn't something he'd see as worth focusing on.
Cecille — 06/19/2021
Usually Cecille was more on-the-ball with sleight-of-hand, snagging generous credits before they got dolled out on their behalf. They did react, looked up, but Zeta was already sliding it over, and they pursed their lips in a look that was more played for laughs than truly exasperated. It segued to a humming laugh to Quinne, then back to their drink, another gentle turn of the glass in a fidget of their long fingers before they stole a sip.
And then quiet. War was heavy, and Quinne was... Mid-twenties, maybe? He was young, he couldn't have been old enough to remember most of these events, but he certainly didn't seem to have the bloodlust of a few of the younger generation. In Zeta's words, 'Good People'. Another look was sent the green man's way at the topic anyhow, just in time to catch his back at them. In that short span their expression was searching, eyes briefly darting between his until they warmed into something faintly apologetic, typical, a tenting of their eyebrows and that little smile. They tilted their head faintly to assure him that they were fine, that this was still a pleasant outing, that Quinne was good company. They didn't want him to wallow in guilt. Whatever his plan was in 'taking them into Purple'. The drink got a little toast and a sip. It was interesting. They could appreciate it.
"Thank you. Is... Bartending your passion, or is this merely to pay the bills?" Did the Mafia even charge bills. As a Verified Apartment Squatter, they had no idea.
Zeta — 06/26/2021
His eyes met Ceci's as the topic dipped into war. He'd said nothing, it was little more than a moment, but his look to them was an unspoken check-in. He mirrored their head-tilt, and ventured a little smile of his own - he was glad they were fine, and yeah. Yeah. He was doing fine, too.
And oh, Quinne, that was the exact wrong thing to suggest - or perhaps the exact right thing to stem the talk (or burgeoning memory) of war, and who was Zeta to resist anything even mildly amusing? Zeta lit up with badly-restrained glee at the suggestion of adding filters for their own video.
"Quinne. Quinne. Do you have one with like...kitty ears. Or sparkles. Or those flowers that float out from the center of a person like an old romance anime? I prefer the sparkles...but I'm sure we both have punching immunity if we go full romance flowers and he finds out, huh?"
And he'd fall silent once more to allow Quinne and Ceci to exchange a few of their own questions. The plan was to get to know the Good People, after all!
Quinne — 06/27/2021
The non-verbal communication wasn't given much acknowledgement, and he was happy to leave the pair to it. Whatever was going on there was certainly not any of his business. Instead, he let his eyes wander away and he'd tend to his own glass on occasion.
In regards to filters... "I don't, but I can certainly start downloading some." Right then and there even, because he pulled out his phone immediately. "You probably have more immunity to it than I do. Harpur and I really don't talk a lot." Work relationship, likely, if any.
"Both. I don't really buy a lot for myself, mostly premade meals or from restaurants. It saves me time, since I don't know a lot about cooking." Not enough to get him by. He could bake desserts, but that didn't do much for him. "And it's fun to do."
Cecille — 07/01/2021
Unfortunately Quinne was stuck in the middle of a Conversation of the Eyebrows (or delphonese). Cecille pursed their lips at Zeta, hesitating before discreetly reaching across from under a bar with a hand that only awkwardly grazed his elbow; it was an attempt at Reassurance before withdrawing it back to their own lap. The moved to take another sip of their drink.
"'Kitty ears'? Do you? Have 'punching immunity', that is." Maybe Zeta underestimated his Standing. Not to say they wouldn't laugh; the quiet amusement in their eyes said that already. But seriously, he was inviting an Angry Harpur. The Square very subtly leaned forward a bit, not quite at a good enough angle to see what filters Quinne was downloading, and using their drink as a prop to hide their mouth.
"Oh, I see." It was...! Hm. They needed a new Topic. They weren't great at smalltalk—maybe something they shared with Quinne. There was another glance to Zeta. Should they ask about the weather? "I was never much of a chef... Ah. How do you know Zeta? ...Or is this 'it'." Met at a Bar, classic story.
Zeta — 07/04/2021
"Download them all - you know those two aren't gonna' slow down. It's strictly for experimentation after all. What's that one with the cartoon eyes...?" He was leaning over now with restrained, giddy glee, ready to peruse the absolute most ridiculous Stepchat filters, and how hilariously poorly they'd fit when pasted over a pair of giants. Dainty and cute ones were probably the best...
"I've got some immunity, s'pose. He trashed a brisket at my door when he was mad, couple weeks back, so I guess I'd rather have the food suffer than the people suffer!"
And then, Cec asked after how the two knew each other. "Heh! Y'mean, beyond 'I come visit all the time' and 'Best drinks in the district?'" He scooted back off of his perch over the bar, though with that came some dampening of that impish energy.
"His parents and I trained, way back when." It was slightly more clipped in the way that implied the conversation was one that would easily end there, though it was no less pleasant or easygoing; a contradiction only Zeta could manage with his unique ease. "Good people, good Steppers, too."
Quinne — 07/05/2021
"They'd be too busy to realize, and once it's uploaded, it'll be too late." As Zeta suggested, Quinne would definitely download them all. Cartoon eyes, it'd be though! He'd turn his phone towards Cecille afterwards, so they could look through the list if they were inclined. It wasn't as if he had anything concerning to worry about popping up when/if they did so.
"Trashed a brisket.." Seemed like a good thing a member of a family did, classy even. Quinne didn't look impressed.
When Cecille asked about how they knew each other, Quinne let him reply and nodded along. "Then Zeta just sort of remained afterwards. Not that I'm complaining, especially with the compliment towards my drinks there." A moment of faux arrogance. 'Best drinks in the District', indeed.
"Anyway, should we be off? Get there and set up before they do?"
Cecille — 07/08/2021
Quinne was far too confident in his ability to Meme the hell out of a fight. ...Cecille suspected he must run an entire StepTube account on the side. They hummed thoughtfully. Zeta had nearly climbed his way over the bar, and Cecille pushed their glass out of the way to clear just enough room to rest their face in their hand, a conflicted look of exasperation and amusement. Only to lean in too once Quinne turned the phone their way, although they avoided Zeta's lengths of sitting on the bar (he was being judged). They murmured their delight at some of the sillier filters.
"Brisket? What did he do, throw it at your door? Goodness, why." Was there an easy answer? They didn't know Harpur well enough, they had only one impression to go off of so far. They weren't sure they were expecting a full story there, either, and moved smoothly back to Smalltalk.
"Ah, I see." They got his tone, leaving it at that, and neatly tucking away any Nagging Curiosity for Later. "Yes, he does that." 'Remain'. They checked their phone for the time, assuming they were coming up on the end of Quinne's shift. "Oh, I suppose so." Not wanting to waste a good drink, they rotated it carefully by the stem, once, twice, and promptly downed the remains--before spluttering.
Zeta — 07/11/2021
"Yeah. I remain." *THAT was a smile, small, with different tones for each of the pair present. "'Abide.' I got a coupla' more compliments where that came from too, man" The bar and Zeta's slightly inconvenient positioning saved Quinne from an outright playful shoulder-nudge that time. "Just dolin' 'em out in moderation for now!"
He knew he was being judged, and owned the hell out of it anyway, gleefully pointing out some ludicrous filters (and a couple of 'hey, maybe this? Try it on me...'s) before finally retreating to his stool.
"We don't always get along. On account of the...sport-hunting. More earlier-on...but he's not seen what I've seen." He knew Quinne's gig, but there was a difference between what Quinne did, and what Harpur enjoyed. And to Zeta's credit, he played it off as something that could be said in polite company, seemingly effortlessly, though his mind was on Ceci...and Neeva and Dante.
Ceci knew; Harpur had threatened them the first time they'd met after all, and it still was a sore and infuriating spot on which he'd return to dwell, and something that no doubt hampered Zeta's interactions with the guy, yet - as this fell before certain Events and subsequent scenes in the timeline. The Look exchanged there with Ceci was a brief but meaningful one.
"He's also really easy to wind up." More innocently! "I pranked him over a food post, and he threw a perfectly good brisket at my door. Like the utter nerve, you know?!" THAT was something he grinned at, unrepentantly. He'd prank, and prank again - the food was a Harpur casualty as far as he was concerned. Then he bit his lip, bobbed his head. "That's honestly it, that's the story. I'd rather the brisket than the fist, just means he makes it again, right?"
He did rise then as Quinne's shift appeared to come to a close.
"Yeah. Punch out, we can wait up if you like. Swing by my place, clean up dress down a little, 'case it gets messy or something."
Quinne — 07/12/2021
Quinne likely did, though the rest of them would have to find that on their own!
Zeta's choice of perch didn't concern him, and he was content to let Cecille look through the filters in the meantime. Their small delight was enough! "For now." He repeated, amused. For now was a usual mention. As the older man requested, he was more than happy to try the filters out on him. Some taken with simple pictures, others recorded - likely to send to Zeta later rather than keep them for himself. "Ah, of course." To the mention of Harpur, but it was to be expected, no one got along all the time.
That look offered to Cecille was given some consideration, but as before, Quinne didn't pry. If it was important to know, the bar wasn't a place for it. "He does seem a bit hotheaded." Afterall, they were going to watch a fight that started because of raging on Stepbook. "Yeah, we can do that. I won't take long." He looked amused when Cecille spluttered after sucking down their drink, and he'd put his phone away. "You could've just sipped it while I was away." He pointed out, only to wander off to, indeed, clock out and get his things from the back.
When he returned, a few moments later, he had a coat overtop his uniform and a bag with anything else needed tossed in. "Ready when you both are."
Cecille — 07/14/2021
"It's a nasty habit, really." The doctor had propped an elbow up on the bar in the meantime, chin barely resting on a few fingers, the barb thrown with half-lidded amusement. Zeta's lean over the bar was playfully ridiculous, and a greater person might have taken advantage, or else focused their quips in that direction. Cecille wasn't entirely oblivious, but certainly wrapped up in their own Wit, though they spared Zeta a briefly appreciative glance before he plunked himself back down in his stool. Yes, they looked at the butt. Stop flaunting it.
Harpur was a Weird subject, so they let Zeta tackle that. He knew him better. The look got that same, pursed smile at an attempt at being reassuring. "He is… Hm. I have only spoken to him a handful of times." The topic was quick to move on anyhow, and Cecille scrutinized Quinne's selection of filters, pointing out a few for him to try on Zeta, and muffling their snickers.
Which turned into splutters as they coughed up the remnants of their drink. With a fist to their mouth, they cleared their throat loudly a few times, face a bit red. "Ah, sorry. I was attempting to match the Urgency of our departure. I hope you won't take that as a slight against your drink. I don't often consume alcohol."
They swiveled in their seat and stood, waiting by Zeta for Quinne to clock out. Onward to fistfights?
Zeta — 07/15/2021
"Hotheaded - yeah, y'got that right! Lucky you're not orange, they know better'n anyone! Well." That lip-bite, head-bob of a shrug. "At this rate, lucky you're not Zakiya. Or anyone moderating Stepbook."
Zeta wouldn't have known they were checking him out. Appreciating respectfully, of course. If anything, they were spared him teasing them later in private about it, and he slunk back down and waited for Quinne without any sort of comment about it. A success!
Instead, he'd added, far more soberly, "Yeah..." There were clearly more thoughts there too. "He's one of those guys that's like...always around, y'know? And probably will be more after that night at my show. Just hope he behave himself." The delivery was incredibly even without skipping a beat, but any exceptionally observant or imaginative might have seen the electric lights around them brighten in a small but sharp surge at those last two words. Thankfully Nina wouldn't be replacing any of her lights, today.
He rose and offered an arm for Ceci to take, with a low "y'sure you're okay?" only meat for them at the end of their splutters, adding an "I got you, if it hits y'quick." Which was a given, anyway - but they wouldn't be
They'd have to put up with the new and oddly, properly-purple jacket once more on the way out.
And shortly Quinne reappeared and Zeta outright grinned at him, accentuating it properly with a brief bob of his head. "Yeah, I'm good. Cec, you good? Let's head on over!"
And onward to fistfights! And future doctoring!
Quinne — 07/15/2021
"Yeah, that's fair." Quinne was glad to be neither, but his job and faction fit him very well. UG didn't have much in the ways of something appealing, but that was likely due to prior familial connections. Cecille's wandering eyes hadn't been given any notice, but that was between them too. "I wouldn't know, really. I don't spend a lot of time around Harpur."
He had his crowd, it'd seem, and Quinne had his own. It suited him just fine. The flickering lights did catch his eye, but he merely smirked. "'Hm' is a good description." To Cecille, who got the requests of Zeta in filters without hesitation. He'd even save a couple, but likely to send to Cecille if they got to the point of exchanging numbers.
"Nah, you're good."
Once he clocked, he'd walk with them to said fight!
Moderators: AJ_89 Steven (played by Robo-Craig) QnQ Hide Miyagawa (played by Monoclejack) Chroma (played by lewsey)
