[Metro] The Hollow

[The Bushranger]

"Some places call it White Lightnin'. Ah think you'll find it proof enough."
Dorothy chuckles, produces a shot glass and the mug from under the counter, pours it, and slides it across to Farcy. "First one's on t' house tonight."

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy catches the glass, raises his eyebrows with surprise, narrows them with suspicion, then shrugs and takes a sip. "Mm! Ah! Not too horrible!" He nods towards the dance floor. "Who built this place, thinking that thing would get any use?"

[The Bushranger]

"Dunno. Guess it was someone afflicted by t' curse 'a eternal optimism," Dorothy says with a smirk and a dark chuckle. "Sometimes people get t' dance, Ah could easy but don't see t' point."

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy, "Urk!"s at the thought of being cursed with eternal optimism. Not much different from his own curse, actually, except that optimists are usually a lot more idiotic, in his opinion. He, "Hmph!"ed at the dance floor and turned back to the bar. He drank steadily and was soon asking for a refill. New to the city and looking for information, he fumbled at trying to casually ask, "So, er, how often do you get police in here? From what I heard before being shipped here, we mutants are naturally destructive."

[The Bushranger]

"Oh, so ya drunk the Kool-Aid, then." Dorothy's expression promptly turns a lot less friendly. "Listen, we're not no more destructive than anybody can be, so ya get that idea outa yer head right now or Ah'll have ya outa here on yer backside in nothin' flat. As for t' cops, we don't give 'em no reason more than they already have t' come in here, an' that's that. Capiche?"

[TruorTupnm]

He, "Uh..."s, not understanding the Kool-Aid reference, but he quickly sets himself into a hunched over and defensive posture, as she attempts to set him heterosexually-oriented. "Fine, capiche. Just keep the drinks coming. I'm just saying that's what they're saying."

[The Bushranger]

Dorothy still looks unamused, but refills the glass with a softer air. "Ya think Ah don't know that? Ah heard that an' lots more when they hauled mah butt in here f'r darin' t' protect mah sister from bullies." She sighs.

[TruorTupnm]

His eyes flash with anger, which he attempts to smother by clenching his eyes shut for a moment. "It's not what you did or didn't do, it's what..." He shakes his head and decides, "Nevermind. I'll drop it." He mutters into his drink, "Won't be surprised when we do start losing it, though."

[The Bushranger]

"Good idea. Ah don't like talkin' bout it, anyways. But ya could give a name, since everyone here is gonna know it sooner or latah," Dorothy quips, trying to lighten the mood.

[TruorTupnm]

Appreciating that she is attempting to lighten the mood, he nods with a reluctant smile of thanks. "Will they? Yes, I suppose they will." He straightens and quotes, "Doctor Francis Evan Farcy," He raises an eyebrow at her name tag and adds, "Dorothy, bartender. A grand meeting in Metropolis, city of mutants!"

[The Bushranger]

"City a' Broken Dreams, Ah call it. Fits better and suits my taste in sci-fi," Dorothy says, but smirks. "Go 'head, take a good look if ya want. Ah don't mind."
Plus, it gets her better tips.
"So, Doc, what they run you in for? Makin' the dead rise a'gin? Or jus' smackin' people with a cane while hopped up on Vicodin?"

[Beans]

Tabitha enters with Art and a kitty with a hat.

She's fairly clean for a homeless gal (she lives in a disused subway station with a still-working bathroom), smelling like old pennies. You know that smell.

[IcemanJRC]

Art walks in with his small entourage and leads them to the bar, sitting and waiting for Dorothy to finish her buisness as he grins at the prospect of a hot meal, as opposed to the usual food in a can. He sighs as he brushes his jacket off his leg and smoothes his wrinkled t-shirt.

[Gimliggamer]

James walks into The Hollow, a faint breeze wandering into the room as he does so. He glances around a few times before sitting down at a table nearby the entrance, just in case. He sits back and listens to the conversation.

[Rae Artemi]

Yeah, Trilby's back. He sees Dorothy as they are walking in. Oh no! It's the mean cat hating lady! he thinks. He changes his form so that he looks like a slightly different black cat, bigger ears, shorter tail, bigger body all around. Maybe with that and my hat she won't recognise me. He plods over to the table where they are sitting and hops into a chair.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy perks up as new customers come in, excusing herself from the Doc and stepping over torwards the newcomers' table.

As noted before, the standard barmaid's outfit at the Hollow includes a low-cut top, cut-off denim shorts, tennis shoes and an apron. Dorothy fills out this uniform rather well.

"Howdy y'all, good to see ya. What'll it be today? The House Special's popular t' drink and we got hot grits that have been on the hot plate f'r 'bout six hours or so today."

[Beans]

Sadly, Beans dedtiems.

[IcemanJRC]

Art smiles, oh god how he loved grits, and fried chicken. He should see if they have that... Or cornbread... In fact, he asks for all three. Cause he wants to eat like he did back home with Granpappy.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy smirks as well, and might just start allowing himself to eye her a bit less clinically. He gives her a mock bow. "You are quite the lady, Dorothy." As the newcomers file in, he runs his clinical gaze over them, raises an amused eyebrow at the cat, but turns back to Dorothy to answer, "No, nothing like that, thank God. It was discovered that I have healing abilities. I never would have used them to harm anyone." He clamps his hands around his glass and clams up, as the others get closer. He'll probably start muttering about how he should have become a world famous doctor, with such abilities, but nooo....

[Rae Artemi]

Trilby doesn't say anything, but his stomach grumbles at the mention of all those different kinds of food. Truthfully, he would have just cleaned out a bowl of peanuts if it meant he wasn't hungry anymore.

[The Bushranger]

"Good for you," Dorothy says, completely honestly, and gives Doc a wink. "Also, thanks, but ya ought to know Ah ain't no lady." And then she heads over - a bit of a sway in her steps - to the newcomers.

"You want t' fried chicken? Ah reckon Ah can getcha some a' that, it'll all be dark meat tho'. Anythin' else? White Lightnin' or watah, sugah?" she draw

[IcemanJRC]

Water, alcohol'll kill ya.
He smiles and goes to pet Trilby,
Thanks.

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy watches Dorothy head to the table, but he shakes his head and chuckles to himself, thinking along the usual lines of, She's far too young for me, anyway! and, Let's just keep this professional. I'll likely frequent this bar. But his thoughts would be interrupted by a sudden sneer of disgust. What am I thinking?! It's just a mutant! Sickening things! Ruined my life!

He turned back to the bar and reminded himself that this was a place to relax. He eyed the drinks and glared at his glass, wishing to forget.

[Rae Artemi]

Trilby starts to pull away from the hand, but stops himself No. Mr. Music Man is a friend. He gave you food. It's alright, he's not going to hurt you. Trilby thinks, letting Art pet him.

[The Bushranger]

"Water'll kill you too, sugah, if ya drink enough a' it," Dorothy points out with an amused tone, before turning and going to sway her way back in the direction of the bar and the kitchen, giving Doc another wink, unknowing of his internal monologue.

[McBish]

Water, alcohol'll kill ya.
He smiles and goes to pet Trilby,
Thanks.

That statement makes the man sitting in his own little booth chuckle a bit.

What... no he has always been there. Dorthy will probably have recognized him as a regular, at least recently. He has been coming into this place and sitting at the same booth for about 5 days now. As soon as they open till they kick him out sitting around reading a book.

He stands about 5'6" with a very square chin and strong forehead. He has dark brown hair that is a bit shaggy. His clothes are pretty nice but simple. Jeans and a button down shirt.

[The Bushranger]

And Dorothy does indeed wave to the regular with a smile, appreciating the business. Presumably he tips well, too, and if he's had a regular order over those 5 or so days, she'll be getting that for him, by this point, without his even having to ask.

((And I HATE copypasta errors. >.<))

[TruorTupnm]

Farcy winces slightly and shifts in his seat uncomfortably, at the wink. He turns the electric blue stool he'd chosen around to size up the lone man who he must have missed, before. Not seeing anything particularly frightening, he notices that Art has a saxophone. Remembering him from the street, he calls out, "Have you tried getting a job here? You're having a drink, now, of course, but the place is quiet. Could use some performers."

[IcemanJRC]

(roflwaffles)

Art sighs,
Don't laugh at my Grandpappy's advice, alright? It hasn't steered me wrong yet, so I'm gonna keep following it, and Grandpappy says that alcohol will kill ya' so don't mess with it.
He pouts a bit as I deadtime for the neccasary sleep.

[The Bushranger]

((Copypasta fixed.))

Dorothy will bring out everybody's orders, then head behind the counter, and deadtime as well.