Duckets.

[Cammie Wagner]

She was dressed too nice for a place like this. Even though it was her place, this ground level floor had always meant to of been a water hole for those getting off work, the working class. Even now, that was exactly what it was. She was fortunate to still be doing so well given that this was going on seven years in business for herself. Minus...the small lapse. She didn't much want to think about that. She had things to do. She would have much rather been in the basement, listening to decent music while she restocked the bar, or in her office listening to nothing at all. Instead, she had two bottles in his hand, the necks placed carefully between her fingers as she moved into the main area, a noisy game of poker happening in one corner, the only floor of her whole place that wasn't decked in Christmas décor. As it was, there was just two sing strings of lights, one multicolored strand lining the bar, and a white one framing the actually liquor display. “Here, Eden” she knew she looked out of place, given that her staff was always dressed in all black, at least those of her staff who's job it was to keep their clothes on, wore black. She stuck out up here, outside of her office, dressed like she was, her petite frame teetering expertly on heels that put her at an even 5'5. Just about the same height as the woman she was passing the bottles off too, reaching under the counter and pouring a shot that was requested from the girl since her hands were now full, and Cammie's weren't. Things always got so much busier around the Holidays. When people wanted to drink the most and just forget about their lives, their family. It was great for sales, but hell on her feet. Another raucous shouting from the poker game and somebody was turned over in their chair, the help from the door already coming to drag the man up to his feet, and possibly throw him out onto the street, and there was a flux at the bar. “What can I get for you?”

Her blue eyes were trained on those in front of her, lips set as she waited. She could see that look on his face, she had gotten that look from men almost her entire life. It was what she got, growing up with this body. If she were younger, she would have used that to her advantage. She certainly had whenever she first opened this place. Flirting with any and everybody just to get them to spend more money than they could afford on drinks they didn't want. Just coming here to see her. Times had changed. That easy smile on his face, not that it wasn't a handsome face, all the slimiest men were always handsome. Too handsome for their own good and she didn't have time for his face right now. Didn't have the energy to flirt with that look, she was slammed, and she just wanted to go back to her office. “Well your name for starters,” her closed lips turned up into a smile, a little too coy to be real, but he wouldn't know the difference, she doubted there was much more than rocks in his head in the first place. “And when you get a break.” Break? She didn't get, nor wanted a break. Her fingers pressed into the polished bar top for a moment, her lips parting into a smile before her hand lifted, pointing to the door. “Get out,” she was about to motion to the door man but this man wasn't moving. She just couldn't understand why. “Look, If you aren't here to drink, you're wasting my time. I can put another ass in that chair that pays. Drink something, or move.”

Perhaps another day, she would have been more interested in listening to what he had to say. He wasn't an all together unattractive man. He was strong looking, broad shoulders and that jawline...she definitely liked the jawline. She just wasn't in the mood to be objectified today. She got enough of it downstairs, she didn't want to have to listen to it upstairs as well. Not with the big opening this weekend. Her nails tapped against the top of the bar, waiting for something, unless he was too stupid to understand English. She hadn't expected him to just get up and leave, it would have been nice, but they never did. Never just complied. He hardly even seemed phased by her words. Maybe she should send the other girl over here to wait on him, maybe that would end better. She wasn't sociable enough today. “I wouldn’t mind a crown and coke.” Her lips twitched. “Done.” her hand dipping under the counter for a glass, spinning her torso to get the bottle of crown, her hands dipping the glass into the ice under the bar pouring the crown over and reaching for the soda gun. “Look, maybe I said that wrong- My name’s Isaac—“ She shook her head, laughing bitterly to herself. Her eyes lifting to his hand and then back down to soda gun, pushing the buttons on top for coke and spraying it into the cup and pushing it back across the counter to him. “I don't care,” that was true enough at least. She didn't care what his name was, didn't see why she should care. Her hand lifted not to shake his hand but waiting for the coin to pay for his drink. That's what she cared about, that was what she wanted. “Listen, pay for the drink and I'll bring some other little girl over here for you to hit on, I don't have the time.”




Wearing: This

[Issac Booth]

you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESIST
J U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If it weren’t for the ass perched on his desk he might actually have made a greater indent on the pile of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk from the past few days of field work. He might have managed to even still if she hadn’t come bearing over-stuffed subs and coffee, irritated scowl in place. It was the food that had done him in; the scowl was actually reason enough for him to have made an excuse to run out of the office. Not that Dani was scary… necessarily… so long as there was a desk between them and her anger wasn’t directed at him anyways. Something he was given only moments to decipher usually- she’d actually grabbed him by his ear before so that she could drag him down to her level. Shit hurt- he would know, he was familiar enough with the move. It was the same one his mama used whenever he zoned out on her. Although his mom was nowhere near as rough about it as the woman currently popping the sour cream and onion chips into her mouth. Of course, his mama wasn’t the physical punishment type. She was better with guilting him instead. Whereas the girl with her legs crossed out in front of him, toes curled into the arm of his chair as she ate, was not above elbowing him hard in the ribs or thrusting her damn heel down into the toes of his shoe. Violent. Violent and crazy. Thankfully it hadn’t been him her ire had been directed at- just her own surplus of paperwork and an influx of complaints from one very particular supervisor apparently. All of which had sent her leaving her office entirely and prompted the food run. Something he wasn’t even going to consider complaining about seeing that it had been hours since he’d last eaten. And that had been a bag of pretzels over a decapitating body- so he was just fine with her little impromptu need to get out of her own office. ‘Specially seeing as she brought him food- his grin at her around a mouthful of the meatball deliciousness that she’d brought- corners of his eyes crinkling. “Youfg courd gimme thar other bahhg,” lips moving with a pointed look at the plain brown bag on the other desk in the room, ignoring the amused glance from under her eyelashes as she prodded him with her big toe. ”I don’t speak stuffed-ease, what was that?” Bullshit. He called bullshit. Woman had six brothers and wanted to tell him she couldn’t understand him around a little bit of marinara? His eyes narrowed as he swallowed the mouthful, again looking over to Wentworth’s desk and the bag on it pointedly. “You could give me the other bag, he’s probably already gone home.” Nevermind that he hadn’t come back from whatever meeting he was supposed to be at yet, or that he still had several things on his desk that he probably wouldn’t leave without. Nevermind the three files of his that Isaac had found in his own pile… ”Nah, I passed him on the way up, he said he’d just be a few. If your that hungry why don’t you just head the fuck out?” His free hand moved, gesturing to the paperwork and the stack of outgoing files that he needed to take about. It was well after supper by now- past the time most of the floor had left to go home- but then they didn’t exactly keep normal hours. ”I’ll take the files for you if you let me do the rest of my paperwork in here.” She was trying to come across nonchalant, her eyes carefully avoiding his as she played at pretending that the chips on her fingers were that important. “You’ll do my paperwork,” carefully phrased as a question as he bit back the smirk that wanted to file out with it. ”WHAT?! No! I just meant that I’d fucking take the completed shit with mine before I went home tonight- pass it all off for you. You can do your own fucking paperwork- I didn’t work those cases.” Her form pushing back further on the desk until her knees were just barely hanging over the edge of the desk. His eyes lowered briefly to his watch, trying to judge how much longer it would actually take to do it himself…

Not that he had any big plans… Or plans of any kind really. He had just been here since the night before, or close enough to in the office as he could get chasing down the asshole heading his list this week. The huff from in front of him wasn’t even held back somewhat, the ankles recrossing as he felt his lips twitch. ”I just don’t wanna go back to that office tonight. I’ll take back the twelve sickles you owe me from last weeks bet…” Finagling… he could probably get a better deal off of her if he stayed longer but he found himself pushing the chair back- grinning widely as he balled the sandwich wrapper up in his hands and threw it to the wastebasket, shrugging at the roll of her eyes. “Done deal man. Those twelve sickles’ll get me a good few drinks tonight.” Not like he needed them to pay for himself to go out- but it was always nice to not owe money. He was reasonably sure that she’d cheated somehow too- no way the Irish had pulled that victory off fair and square with their last two games… ”Alcoholic,” she was already sliding off of the desk though, taking up his not vacant chair as he moved around her grinning as she started pulling files out of her overlarge purse. Couldn’t tell him she hadn’t planned that shit, but then he was used to as much by now. “Manipulative witch,” but the return was equally affectionate, his hip bumping the back of the chair as she slid it under the desk with her legs curled up into it. ”Yeah, yeah, yeah- go turn your liver back.” With a dismissive wave of her hand he was certain she’d picked up from some elderly relative before she paused. ”Just do me a favor and take these down first.” Frantic scrambling around her bag as she produced two black file folders before grinning up at him with that wide ass mouth of hers. “You know, you should look into the type of advantage you take of me here girl, packing me out of my office- forcing me to be your pack mule..” but he was already quickly ducking out of the office, the sound of something hitting the side of the doorframe- probably the stapler, it had been nearest- causing him to chuckle slightly. Yeah, he’d seen that coming. But he didn’t have to go file the paperwork himself- had cut a good two hours off of when he should have been leaving… pretty worth it, his shoulders shrugging back into a shrug as he shoved one hand into his jacket pocket, grinning at Wentworth as he made his way back up to the office he’d just vacated with a silent salute of his fingers. If he already knew Dani had brought them food there was a good chance he figured she’d be in there too- and he wasn’t about to warn him about flying objects. If he was really lucky Dani would think it was him returning. Let her deal with an irate Ashton. He was going to grab a few beers and forget about the paperwork he had yet to even start… speaking of… His fingers readjusted, pushing the two black folders she’d given him into the slot at the edge of Platt’s office and grinning, lips puckering as he began to whistle aimlessly. Two hours early. That left him plenty of time to get to a bar… find a few drinks, hit on some waitresses. Yeah… He could handle that just fine.

Of course once he was actually in the bar it was a different story. The music and the lights. Well… the music could have been better but they tended to play it up for a younger cro--- oh Merlin’s sake he was getting fucking old. Younger crowd. He’d called that group of kids smoking outside of the shop the other day a bunch of damn teenagers too. It had to be something with the laugh lines he was starting to get. Those damn things at the corners of his eyes when he smiled now. Fuck. When did he get old? He used to be those damn teenagers- getting into the clubs that he shouldn’t have been at in the first place, talking the waitresses into letting him have a few drinks despite his obviously young age… now he didn’t even get carded anymore. Where the hell had the time gone? His chuckle was brief, hand passing over the back of his hair as he approached the bar, somewhat caught up in his own thoughts. At least until he sat and there was blonde in his peripheral anyways. Didn’t matter how old he got- he’d always have a thing for pretty blonde ladies. Pretty blonde ladies who were slinging alcohol about like a damned professional was a different weak spot entirely. Waitress? She wasn’t in the same outfit that the rest of the staff seemed to be in- but she was obviously a part of the team here- maybe she’d just come to fill in. Whatever the reason his lips were curling up further, watching the cream of her outfit move about until she came to stand in front of him. “What can I get for you?” Well, if that wasn’t an opening for all sorts of dirty things- but his smile just stretched into a grin, openly friendly as he leant forward some. “Well your name for starters,”obviously completely aware of how cliché it was and just not caring. He didn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to women that looked like that- especially not when they provided the opener. Even if it was just for her work. “And when you get a break.” His grin shifting even further up his lips.

She really was more than that average pretty. Way too pretty even to be working as a waitress. Not that the vocation was a bad thing- as he’d already admitted once tonight he had a certain fondness for girls with that particular job. Her smiling at least was a good sign, his own smile lighting more in response. It was just that girls like her didn’t usually stay waitressing for long, not in his experience. And maybe she hadn’t. Maybe it was a new thing- fallen on hard luck or something. No judgment would be coming from him- his mental self raising both hands as if to give over. Even if his body was still leaning in slightly to the bar and showing nothing of the musings. “Get out,” His smile fell- confusion slanting his features before he pulled it back the grin once more, settling back into the bar stool with apparent ease. Okay, so she was feisty. He could do feisty. Liked feisty even. Even if he wasn’t sure what issue she’d taken with his words. It wasn’t like he’d said anything his mama coulda thumped him for. Not that he could think of anyways. Maybe he was wrong... “Look, If you aren't here to drink, you're wasting my time. I can put another ass in that chair that pays. Drink something, or move.” Well maybe she was just too used to dealing with assholes hitting on her or something. Or maybe she’d taken what he said the wrong way. His eyebrows rose slightly before the mental gesture he’d made in his own mind before was repeated physically, both hands held in front of him with a half smile. “I wouldn’t mind a crown and coke.” That would be what he came for in the first place. Maybe not that particular drink but today certainly felt like a crown sort of night. He leant forward once more again, holding his hand out over the bar and grinning affably. “Look, maybe I said that wrong- My name’s Isaac—" And he wouldn’t be kissing that hand like he normally might. He had the feeling that one word from her and those rather large men that he’d seen wearing shirts stretching over their chests with the bars insignia on it would be dragging his happy ass out of this chair.


“I don't care.” Oh Jesus. What if he was talking to one of those notorious man haters? He’d been with his mom through her several phases of that, not that she didn’t always bounce back into the – no, he was not using that analogy for his mother. For fuck’s sake he just wanted to know her name- not get off on that train of thought. He eyed the hand that she was so obviously not asking for him to take and instead dropped his, digging in his pocket. His mama didn’t raise him to go grabbing up on women when they were so clearly asking for him not to. Actually he was pretty sure that was the exact opposite of the lesson that the slapping upside the back of his head had been all those years. “Listen, pay for the drink and I'll bring some other little girl over here for you to hit on, I don't have the time.” His hand came up ironically as soon as she finished speaking, his fingers dropping the assortment of coins into her hand and shrugging, his eyes going to the other girls working the bar and floor. Yeah. Girls. He snorted, shaking his head before looking back to her with an affable grin. “I’m not much into little girls myself. Didn’t think there was any harm in hittin’ on a pretty waitress either, but if your boyfriend is that important to you.”Joking. He was joking because he was good at it, and the rejection she was offering slid off of his shoulders easy enough for him to afford to do so. “I would try guessing your name but I’m so beyond shit at that game. Too many names. And never matching the faces right ya know?”

2499 WORDS
CAMS TAGGED
casual attire  OUTFIT
PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ ATF TEMPLATE
lasjdfjdfsasdfNOTES

[Cammie Wagner]

“I’m not much into little girls myself. Didn’t think there was any harm in hittin’ on a pretty waitress either, but if your boyfriend is that important to you.” it wasn't that he was sleezy. He wasn't. It wasn't even that his lines were tired or the lines on his face said that he half just wanted somebody to talk to, it was something she just couldn't put her finger on but she didn't want to be here talking to him any longer. Cammie's eyes lowered to the bar, sardonic smile moving over her features as her tongue ran across her teeth. Waitress. Was she dressed like a waitress? Did she really look like just part of the help. No. She didn't think so. Waitresses couldn't afford this manicure. Even with what she paid her staff. She didn't bother answering the boyfriend question, she had been single for an embarrassingly long amount of time. She had thought...for awhile...that perhaps Erich...but that never happened. Just as well. He never really seemed all that fond of women to begin with. Nope. No boyfriend for her. Not by a long shot. “I would try guessing your name but I’m so beyond shit at that game. Too many names. And never matching the faces right ya know?” She shook her head in disbelief, before lifting it slowly. “And If I was a waitress, I would be wearing a name tag,” it was rude, biting, and she didn't care, her wrist rolled her hand to point at the shiny golden placards that all of her staff had pinned to their black shirts, she, was very obviously vacant one of those. Obviously, she didn't have one.

Cammie supposed that she should have been, one of those man-eating, man-haters, as he put it. She had, more than every right to be. The only good man that had ever been in her life was her brother. With the things that had been done to her over the course of her life...she should have hated men, and everything about it. It was just hard whenever they were so damned good looking, whenever they wanted to be. Her palms pressed into the counter of the bar, leaning over the surface just slightly. “Are you for real here?” Her tone harsh, not in the mood to play his little games. He kept talking, even after she had asked him to leave, but he had stopped blatantly using lines on her, she just didn't know why he was bothering. Yes, she was pretty, she knew that. She had a mirror and eyes, she knew just how damn good she looked. If he thought that he was any different than the other dozen or so men that hit on her over the course of the night, he was wrong. To her, he was just another customer. “I don't have time for any bullshit, I'm obviously a very busy woman.”

For fake. Like he was a damned child. Cammie felt her eyes rolling again, her curls shaking around her face with the movement of her hair. She was too damn tired for circle talk today. Pushing a very fake, barbie like smile onto her face “Enjoy your drink!” through the smile melted too quickly for it to be anything but, pushed away from the counter and started off toward the managers office. “You're like a damned pox aren't you?” Her body rotating and coming to a full stop just a few paces before the door to her office. She was going here to escape him, and because she had work to do. Real, legitimate work. Why wasn't he taking the hint? “You know, when a girl says no. She means no.” her arms folding in front of her body, weight shifting to stand on one foot with the other jutting out to the side of her. The easily bitchy posture and he was still drinking from his damned cup. “Whats it going to take for you to leave me alone?”

Wearing: This

[Issac Booth]

you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESIST
J U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“And If I was a waitress, I would be wearing a name tag,” It was an amused grin this time as he took his first sip of the drink, unwillingly surprised at how well it was mixed. Not that he thought that she’d be awful at it, or really given it much thought at all. It was just that he hadn’t exactly placed her as a bartender either, not in that get up- and the skill level required for it to be that smooth was something that would suggest otherwise. A contradiction again. It was actually becoming more and more interesting as time went on- despite her apparent distaste for it. That was fine. Maybe she’d just had a shit night so far. He was all for drawing people out. Another shrug as he sat his drink down. “Yeah, but that blows the whole me fishing for information out of the water see,” it wasn’t as if it hadn’t been overly obvious that was what he was doing. But he wasn’t much of one for hidden agendas and manipulation. If she wanted to get away from him all so much if he kept talking then she would- no skin off his nose no matter how attractive she was. He wanted her to stay, but then what you wanted and what you got were so rarely coinciding things that he could deal. He was old enough for it now- somewhat more tempered than back in his school days- less likely to follow her and run her down until she agreed. Not that he was dismissing that thought entirely either. Like he had already reminded himself several times over- she was pretty, and she was interesting. The two were a deadly combo even without the mystery and her proficiency for mixing drinks. “But then you already completely bypassed the me asking if you had a boyfriend.”

[/font] He leant his forearms on the bar, grinning at her lack of enthusiasm. “Downright shot down me flirting with you- and no matter how much you glare at me I’m not gunna chock you up as one of them man-eating man haters.”[/font] Not so long as he still wanted to take her out anyways. Take her out? Well hell, he hadn’t even realized he’d arrived there himself, but again it was shrugged off as due course. “Are you for real here? I don't have time for any bullshit, I'm obviously a very busy woman.” He took a drink of the glass between what pause there was in her words, brows knitting slightly together for half the moment it took him to do so. Angry and pretty mixed just fine. Angry and pretty mixed just fine in certain situations rather- when they could be worked with. Angry and pretty should have made him repentant, or at least less inclined to be talkative- but life was a whole hell of a lot of shoudla, coulda, wouldas. And he was a whole hell of a lot of amused- his lips curling slightly as he rolled only one shoulder this time, leaning back slightly. “Well I’m not for fake girlie.”[/font]

Definitely not that in any aspects. “I’m just making conversation.”[/font] Which she was free to leave at any point, she had that right. Not that he wouldn’t try getting her attention again. Not even, that he would just allow himself to be ignored if she did try for any length of time. But that was her choice, and he was all about choices too. “Enjoy your drink!” His grin only widened slightly at the little happy Mary act she had goin’ there for a second, tipping his drink up in salute before she turned away from him and made her way out from behind the bar. Well- there went that ignoring thing. Damned if she didn’t do it all out too, straight up leaving the bar and everything. Should have wiped the grin off of his face, or at least deterred his eyes from following her- only once moving back to the crowd around him before returning. He had choices here, plenty of other things he could do, other people to talk to… but despite all of that he found himself tilting the barstool back, standing and grabbing his drink before heading in the same direction she had been, skirting around people and objects until he was almost directly to the side of her. Lucky thing she was so damned tiny, would have been more of an issue getting here otherwise. He didn’t say anything though, just kept step with her as he lifted the drink back to his lips, eyes darting to the side with unhidden amusement.“You're like a damned pox aren't you?” He brought his drink down slowly, the curve in his lips unhidden- unabashed of it either. A pox?

He’d been called worse before, although it was certainly on the opposite end of the spectrum from a damn compliment. Not that he needed to have his feathers puffed up by a pretty face to recognize his worth- he was well aware of how attractive he was, he’d seen the brief flare of recognition in those eyes of hers when she’d first had her assessment of his person. Just because she chose to ignore it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there. He grinned over at her easily, without facing her directly, bringing his drink back to his lips and taking another healthy swig of it. Whiskey to take the bite away- although he was pretty certain his mama had meant the bite of cold and not that of a pretty woman. “You know, when a girl says no. She means no. Whats it going to take for you to leave me alone?” Ouch, woman didn’t pull any punches with those insults- his body turned to face hers finally, easy posture as he rocked back on his heels once before settling more firmly into it. “You didn’t exactly say no ma’am.”[/font] Slow grin as he shrugged his shoulders. “Evadin’ ain’t nearly the same thing. Although you sure did enough of that.”[/font] And then some. She seemed to be anything but interested, downright mean when it came to it but there were any manner of factors that had to be considered. And he was willing to bet, hedging on it really, that she was more than just an abnormally pretty face. “As to getting rid of me- just your name,”[/font] a half a second pause as he rolled his shoulders back, “and meetin’ me up at a time when you aren’t so busy.”[/font] Because she obviously was, even if the capacity of her being so wasn’t crystal clear, he was more than sure that he’d have that information before he finished his drink tonight- probably not from her lips, but it would be information all the same.
[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]
[/div]

2499 WORDS
CAMS TAGGED
casual attire  OUTFIT
PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ ATF TEMPLATE
lasjdfjdfsasdfNOTES

[Cammie Wagner]

Merlin he was a big one. With her hands on her hips, and even in her four inch heels she was having to lean her neck back impressively to see his face. The bigger they are, the harder they fall Marlon had tried telling her, one swift kick to the shins and he would be down, if it came to it. Ma'am? He was calling her Ma'am? Just how old did she look? He was obviously just too thick to take a hint. Brain too small to understand that it was one in the same, that she wasn't interested. At least he had stopped asking for a date, settling on just her name. Well...so she had thought. Again, her bright blue eyes rolled. Taking a measured step backward and pointing to the embossed plate on the the door that read “Cammie Wagner, proprietor,” he had obviously taken no heed of the fact that the whole hallway had been marked 'employee only'. That just skipped his mind. Then again, maybe he didn't know how to read. That would make a lot more sense. “I'm always busy,”

Persistent bastard. She nearly sneered, just didn't know when to give up. More so than just the fact that she wasn't seen around with her customers. Hadn't been in a very long time. Even if she had had the time, she wasn't interested. He might be good looking, large...and those arms. But physical looks just weren't going to cut it for her. She had fallen into that trap before, Too many times. She couldn't risk something happening to her again, she didn't even know this man. Knew nothing about him. Her hand wrapped around the door handle with a soft shake of her head. “I don't think so,” and pushed the door open, “You go and enjoy your drink now.” and slammed the door in his face.

Damn him. She couldn't hide out in her office all night long, she actually had stuff to do. Perhaps, and it was just wishful thinking, but perhaps he had finished his drink and been on his way. She wasn't afraid of him. No, that wasn't very true was it. She was terrified of every man that she found attractive. Experience had taught her that. Still, this was her place, and she was surrounded by people. She had half a shift to go. With a huff she grabbed a case of reserve from the corner of her office and hauled into the pub, putting it on the set of stairs that lead up to the newly reopened bistro. Only, she could hear him laughing. Didn't even know his laugh and knew that he was laughing. He needed to leave. Didn't she have the right to refuse anybody for any reason? Or something of that nature? Her legs pushed her forward just a little too quickly as she marched over to him, bypassing him after all and moving behind the counter, pointing the freckle faced girl in the direction of the stairs to get the box, and moving into position next to eden. “Is he harassing you?” ”No, Cams he's kinda funny,” and again with the sneer, her nose crinkling and her eyes rolling. “I think you mean full of himself,”


Wearing: This

[Issac Booth]

you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESIST
J U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Cammie Wagner, proprietor,” He didn’t even bother to hide the low whistle at her words, smile notching up in both recognition and appreciation at what that meant. Hell, he always had had a thing for women who knew what they wanted and had the balls to take it. A woman who could pull her own weight was always a nice change. He liked chasin’ the skirts of waitresses as much as much as the next man… well probably more actually. It was a recognized down time for him. A woman of her own worth was something different entirely. “I'm always busy,” He wasn’t going to scoff at that, at least not yet- she owned her own damned place it stood to reason that she would be, especially considering the traffic this particular place could boast. However, that didn’t mean he was necessarily throwin’ in the proverbial towel. “A time when you happen to be less busy then.” Because everyone took a break at some point- hell that was why he was in this place. His break from his job- Merlin knew he put in more than enough time at the office himself. Then again he had no right idea what owning a business was like. His mother had owned her fair share of them but not established. The gypsy side show she'd done, reading palms, he was pretty sure at one point she'd even opened up a salon for cuttin' all the fancy hairs. Truth be told they were all kind of a blur these days, every summer had been something new and then he'd had Hogwarts to round it out too- he was lucky he even remembered the majority of them correctly. That wasn't the same as this though, and he knew that, however... As he'd already thought, everyone needed some type of downtime. And he figured he was just as good as a stiff drink, probably better. He was decent company. More than if the person was actually up to talking. Or you know, giving him a chance. Which it just didn't seem like she was doing with that head shake of hers. “I don't think so. You go and enjoy your drink now.” shutting him out just as quick as she slammed that door. His lips tugged up, hand rubbing against the nose she hadn't even managed to hit before he eyed the door itself.

He probably shouldn’t have laughed when she’d departed so angrily- bitter to the core? He doubted it. But blondie was putting on a good show and he was always appreciative of comedic value. So laugh he did- tapping his knuckles twice against her now closed door in salute before ambling back into the bar area with some very pointedly curious looks thrown his way. Because why would he follow the boss lady back to her office and come back out here to the bar? Curiosity was as much an opening as attraction though and he damn sure wasn't above using that. Those 'looks' he used to his advantage as he sat at the bar- sipping on the same make of drink Cammie had given him earlier, although he had to admit that while Eden’s was fairly good it wasn’t quite the same. Bartenders, if you paid close enough attention, all had a different handlin’ of their drinks. And he damn sure had enough drinkin' experience to know the difference. Not that he had a drinking problem- although maybe he'd cut it close a few times back in school, but who didn't? Well hell no he didn't need that answer. Chase hadn't done any of the really heavy drinking and a few others he knew hadn't ever touched a drop of that devil's liquid. He just happened to have a penchant for things that got him in trouble. Which, might be why he was still sitting at this bar. He crossed his ankles and set back into the stool again, making polite conversation and flashing his dimples when waitresses came up for drinks, or whenever the barkeep had a moment to lean into the bar and take the half second of down time she was afforded. While he couldn’t say he learned much about their boss they didn’t exactly cold shoulder him. Which was always a start.

He had all of them warmed up to him by the time the first hour was out, although he wasn’t flirting over much with any of them and certainly wasn’t looking to take any of them home with him tonight- he could be charming without having to have an end game. This here was just polite conversation. And an attempt to fish some information out occasionally. The lull in customers had two of the girls- Eden and whatever her name was with the freckles leaning up against the bar and talking to him, both laughing as he nursed his second drink when he spotted the blonde and tan combination that had him still sitting here in the first place, lips widening into a grin as she stomped her way on over to them. Or to the bar. Maybe she’d try that avoidance technique of hers again, eventually she’d have to figure out it wouldn’t do her any good. He could be damn persistent when he felt inclined. His shoulders relaxed back, ignoring what he was sure she thought was righteous fury as she glared over at him- like he wasn't supposed to still be here or something. “Is he harassing you?” Aw hell he wasn't going to laugh- wasn't going to- although his grin might've cracked a bit wider. Harassing them. He'd been making sure they got tips and talking to them when they got a chance. That was an issue in a place like this- treat the girls like they weren't no how part of a human being instead of making sure they were enjoying serving you. He'd seen enough of the other chumps in here just placing their orders and grabbing at them. ”No, Cams he's kinda funny,” Annnd that was why he got such a glowing recommendation, although he coulda done without the kinda. Girl had damn near spat her drink out earlier from laughing so hard and she wanted to hit him with a 'kinda'. He might have been offended if she didn't grin at him when he winked. “I think you mean full of himself,” Annnnd back on track. Full of himself? He was right humble. “Well there's a lot of me to be full of.” She didn't laugh like the other two, like Eden was doing now at his obvious joke. Like someone could say something like that and be serious.

idk WORDS
CAMS TAGGED
casual attire  OUTFIT
PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ ATF TEMPLATE
lasjdfjdfsasdfNOTES

[Cammie Wagner]

Cammie didn't like being laughed at. This was the second time she could see the urge moving across his face. Wanting to laugh at her despite him being the one who was nearly out of line. She could have just kicked him out, it was her right and she should. Didn't even technically have to give a reason for her doing so either. Still, she didn't know him, what she had seem of him – aside from his backside- she didn't much care for. He could go right out into the streets and start besmirching her good name, her reputation. As much as she didn't need that, she really didn't need her name being pushed too far back out there. She had been almost killed twice now in the past year, after all. ”No, Cams he's kinda funny,” Her blue eyes flashed over to his for only a second, frown deepening as his stupid, smug grin got even wider. Of course that was what he wanted. She was a little surprised at Eden, normally she was better at reading people than that. She refused to believe that he was different than any other of the men that came in here daily, just another body to fill the stool. Nothing more. Patron. With any luck, whenever he finally decided to leave, she would never have to see him again, “I think you mean full of himself,” “Well there's a lot of me to be full of.” Dirty. That was his next move? He thought that since none of the rest of it was working, that he should try his hand at lewd commentary? She heard something very similar to that at least a dozen times a day from various mooks. She was sick of it. She should have been better about it, but he had followed her around and she wasn't in a good mood, he was pushing buttons.

Maybe he was just trying to get something out of them. Free drinks because they thought he was cute, a girl to go home with, discount of some kind. She wouldn't have been surprised. Normally it was a girl's game, but to each their own. Maybe had dated one of the girls from downstairs. Maybe that was what had happened and for whatever reason, he was trying to get the rest of the staff on his side. There were a dozen and one reasons for the way he was acting, and not a single one of them ended anywhere good. “You know, the girls that you can hire to make you feel special are downstairs,” her gaze clearly condescending, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for something else. Preferably, for him to leave. She wasn't sure why he rubbed her the wrong way, there was just something about him that put her on edge. A gut feeling, and she didn't much care for it. At least they would be closing soon, then she could go home and never have to think about him again.

Wearing: This

[Issac Booth]

you heard that i was trouble ,
BUT YOU COULDN'T RESIST
J U S T T A K E A B I T E L E T M E S H A K E U P Y O U R W O R L D
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Everything he did seemed to be striking out, every attempt he made shot down just as easily as the first had been and that was new to him. He wasn’t the type to chase rejection- not when it happened so rarely, and not when he didn’t much care for it. It didn’t get under his skin the way he’d seen it do to others. Didn’t make him feel like the prize was all the more worth coveting or that he needed to put out extra stops. Not ordinarily. Ordinarily he was well able to shrug it off with another joke and let it go. If a woman didn’t want him a woman didn’t want him. However. This woman. He was interested. Or intrigued. Or something along those lines. More than just for the one or two nights he allotted to his usual dates. At least, he felt like he was more interested than that. Being that she wouldn’t actually stop glaring at him and scoffing at every word out of his mouth long enough for him to actually be able to talk to her he could be completely wrong in that assumption. But he was going to go with it for now. If only because she was that attractive a woman and even with her caustic remarks it was clear that she was intelligent. Attractive and intelligent were a good combination. His dimples broadening despite the frosty glare she was sending him. Complete shut down- no entry, no admittance, not allowed. It was all very clear. And were he a lesser man he might have actually found the expression chilling. As it was he found it intimidating. Something she could probably do without being told. Just as he wasn’t going to be telling her any time soon that she looked as if she had ‘maneater’ tattooed on her forehead clear as day to any man to see. Maneater of the sort that didn’t even leave the bones for the vultures to pick. Good thing that he wasn’t planning on being eaten or anything. “You know, the girls that you can hire to make you feel special are downstairs.” Ouch. Cutting. Just as it was intended. His smile didn’t dim much, though he did push his hand over his heart in mock salute to the intention- dipping his head marginally. ‘Special’. He didn’t need that type of special.

Oh, not that he didn’t like strippers.

He could admire them as much as any red-blooded male. Probably even more than some. He liked women. And he liked nude women. So a profession that capitalized on the both of them he could easily get behind. He didn’t think any less of a woman getting paid for taking her clothes off than he did one bussing tables, knowing full well that the one doing the former was nine times out of ten going to be making twice or more than the one considered more respectable. And deal with ten times the amount of harassment besides. He might have been an asshole, but he wasn’t that much of one- his ma wouldn’t have allowed it. “And I’m sure they’re more than good at their job,” knew for a fact that they were from having been here himself before and the word of mouth that this place got. “I don’t need to feel special though.” Well not that kind of special. And it was obvious she already thought he considered more of himself than he actually did… or maybe she just thought he was that repulsive. It was hard to tell with her face turned up like that from him. He had, he thought, already told her why it was he was here and still sticking around. Asked her politely for her name and a date. Maybe a little strong. But… he shrugged, tipping the glass back against his lips and swallowing another mouthful before looking back to her once more- leaning back into his chair. “What I can’t figure out- is if there’s something just personally off putting about me to you… if I remind you of someone or you just don’t like my face- which is a damn shame if that’s the case ma’am. Or if you’ve just gotten a bad impression.” His palm evened out over the lip of the glass, curling his fingers around it and swishing what little was left of the liquid back and forth as he looked speculatively at her, raising his brows in what was meant to be an inquisitive expression. Seeing that she was taking everything he said in the worst possible manner the thought that she was getting a bad impression wasn’t too far off base in his mind. “But I already told you I was more than willing to help clear up the former,” another smile as he shifted, torso doubling over so he could lean forward- forearms going to cross over one another on the counter- weight centering easily enough.

idk WORDS
CAMS TAGGED
casual attire  OUTFIT
PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ ATF TEMPLATE
lasjdfjdfsasdfNOTES

[Cammie Wagner]

“And I’m sure they’re more than good at their job,” The best. He meant to say. They were the best. She wouldn't have hired them otherwise. Wouldn't have them coming in early, and actually training to be in the shape they were in, working at the dances and keeping everything on the up and up if they weren't. She made sure this was a good place to work. She knew what he was getting at, what he was trying to convey, she just didn't care. “I don’t need to feel special though.” Sure he didn't. He wasn't sitting here show boating for nothing. With that hair and those jeans? No. Sure. He didn't need to feel special. He wasn't just as selfish as every other asshole that came in and out of here. “What I can’t figure out- is if there’s something just personally off putting about me to you… if I remind you of someone or you just don’t like my face- which is a damn shame if that’s the case ma’am. Or if you’ve just gotten a bad impression.” Oh, she could have lied. Could have said any number of things to shut him up. Could have excused her behavior or explained it away. But he was being persistent, and it was annoying. More so, that he was talking to the rest of her staff and making himself known, like she was the bitch here somehow. Why did it have to be one thing? Why was she the one responsible for making him feel better? Bad impression, sure, she would go with that.

“But I already told you I was more than willing to help clear up the former,” Clearing the glass from out in front of him all light left her face, setting it in the sink and turning her attention toward him. “I'm not interested.” Plain and simple, though she was fairly certain that all he was hearing was “try harder” and that just wasn't the case. Turning to Eden, she saw the girl was already busy emptying the register and sorting it all out, the contents disappearing as if evaporating – where they would all appear directly in the safe below the night club. Closing time. “Don't let the door hit you in the ass,” she rinsed the cup out and set it to dry, things behind the counter already moving around on their own, chairs lifting over on top of tables. The elevator was shut down already – the hum of it's life had stopped half hour ago. “Or do, feel free to come back never.” Eden had this, and would let herself out the back door whenever she was finished, she had to catch the last port key back to her apartment anyway, so it wasn't like he could sit around and torment the poor girl. Satisfied that he got the message, Cammie went back to her office.


Wearing: This