Just for Kicks|(Dal, Lucy, Mimi, Rog) FINISHED

[yolanda7h]

The Cat Scratch Club. Man, it's been a while since he's been there. Yet the guys he stayed with just wanted to go out and party. Dally really wanted to sleep in tonight because the night before was just wild, so wild he hadn't fully recovered. After getting out of jail recently, all of the partying and living it up just made him want to be alone for just one damn minute. Not that he wanted to be alone in his thoughts, but damn it, he just wanted to chill for one night. Watch a movie or something. But how could he say no to yet another night of drinking and causing a ruckus?

The music shook the floor beneath his feet and the lights were dark save for the elaborate stage, decked with florescent lights. He separated from the group to get a drink and got distracted by the hot girls dancing on poles above and around him. With little to nothing on, high heels too. Damn. This wasn't such a bad decision after all. He'd have to get Darry out there some time, loosen him up a bit.

He leaned against the bar, watching the teasing dance routines and his eyes scanned the place and caught sight of another really fine woman, but she wasn't dancing on the poles. The way she looked, Dally thought she damn well should. She'd make a ton of money. Nice long wavy brown hair, thin frame. Just ridiculously hot.

Dally made his move, approaching her, "You tellin me you don't work here?" He said with a smirk. "You look like the kind of girl who would. Am I right?"

(Tag Lucy!)

[LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS]

Lately, it seemed that she was frequenting clubs much more than was healthy for her. This would be the fifth club she’d frequented over the span of three nights and it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility that her face was gaining some recognition, the type of recognition that didn’t paint all too flattering a picture of her. In all honesty, she’d be much more content, or even content at all, simply fading into the crowd, getting lost amidst a sea of faces. At least then, she wasn’t at risk of being scrutinized.

With the manner in which she was dressed, (short black skirt, carmine tube-top, and knee-high black laced boots), scrutiny was nearly guaranteed. Just about the only facet she enjoyed of clubs like this was the fact that even a prostitute like herself was still wearing more than the dancers were. She took solace in the notion that every now and again, she wouldn’t be the odd woman out. It disheartened her that it took visits to generally seedy clubs in order to feel a bit less on edge. Such was life, at least for her.

This club was something marvelous to behold in comparison to the ones she’d paid a visit to recently and she let her gaze wander at the spectacle of it all. Eyes of green tinted with hazel openly examined the place, taking in the sight of scantily clad women whose bodies writhed to the pumping of the music and whose hips undulated to entice those who ventured to gawk at them. They were all beautiful women, no doubt about that, tragic in their own unique ways. She knew the story well. Better than most, she loathed to admit. They were all masked women, suffocating under the heat of the bright lights and the animalistic stares of those who sought their company. Sin-seekers, Kitty affectionately referred to them as. Clubs like this sold you sin and the beautiful women who displayed their flesh and ground their bodies for the enjoyment of others merely acted as products.

She’d arrived somewhat early, as she always did when she had to meet a client. It was a safer bet to arrive ahead of time than to risk arriving late or missing the client and be on the receiving end of Spider’s fury. Giving the club another quick once-over, she conceded that he was not present yet. Kitty knew what he looked like, courtesy of Spider’s description, so there was no way she’d miss him. Having decided to kill some time by engaging in some social drinking to dull the senses, she stood just a few feet from the bar, swirling her finger around the rim of the glass that contained alcohol.

A low, deep male voice directed at her managed to rouse her from her contemplative thoughts, though his actual words were distinctively derogatory. She halted all of her movements and stood stock still as she listened to him spouting them. Her eyes fixated on the glass she held in her hand and her finger still lingering on the rim of it, mid-swirl, she attempted an air of nonchalance that was characteristic of her, though no one aside from Spider knew that it was an act.

Sighing rather loudly, though it was drowned out by the catcalls of men and the raucous music of the club, Kitty tossed her wavy hair over her shoulder and met the stranger’s gaze with her own. “That’s funny. I don’t remember telling you anything at all,” she responded, accentuating her statement with a wry twist of the mouth.

Admittedly, he was quite good-looking, his face resembling a grownup little boy’s. That haughty smirk that quirked his mouth was one that served to increase his appeal as it possessed an obscene amount of cockiness and highlighted his chiseled facial features. However, the words he spoke and this air of gruffness that he seemed to lug around with him did not portray him as approachable. If he were to be a client, she’d have immediately pegged him as those aggressive types that lost control too easily.

“You look like the kind of girl who would. Am I right?”

Working as a dancer would actually be a large step up from what her current profession was, she acknowledged. A tinge of stealthily veiled sarcasm laced her voice as she answered, “A charmer, I see. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t answer right away. Your words have me totally flushed, babe.” Miming fanning herself with her free hand, she chuckled softly and downed the rest of her drink in one go, hissing slightly as it burned down her throat.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .” Flashing him a toothy grin, she raised a hand up to pat his cheek almost condescendingly, before padding away towards the bar for another drink. He didn’t seem the type to give in as easily, though, so she steeled herself as much as she could in case he did follow her.





(OOC: I hope this is adequate. Tag Dally! Mimi and Roger, you guys can join in whatever order you guys want. Seeing as Dally and Lucy haven’t started a scene yet, you guys can RP with each other until that scene begins to play out. :)Yay or nay? )

[yolanda7h]

"That’s funny. I don’t remember telling you anything at all,"

His grin remained and he laughed a bit, mostly because he expected that answer. In fact, he welcomed it. God, he just loved getting girls riled up. Something about them getting all mad and flustered made them that much more sexy. And hell, it was just fun to get under people's skin sometimes. What other better entertainment was there? And this woman was a keeper. Her full lips and teasing eyes were more than just attractive. To Dally, women like that made letting go of Sylvia real easy, that's for sure.

"A charmer, I see. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t answer right away. Your words have me totally flushed, babe. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”

Her almost insulting tap on his cheek made him even more determined to pursue her. Oh, did he like that in a girl. Definitely a step up from the Soc girls he often teased around once and awhile when the mood suited him. The Soc girls often just ran to their Soc boyfriends who wouldn't even man up enough to put up a fight in front of their women. Just a few threatening "don't touch my girl" stares. Dally knew that they wouldn't fight because they wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Be here, he wasn't in Windrixville, and this was a different ball game. Time to have some fun.

"I like that. A girl with spunk. Hey, wait a sec--" He grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him, boldly. He knew most girls didn't take too kindly to a stranger grabbing them like that but Dally really didn't give a flying fuck. He wanted her attention and he got it.

"I know you're not good with answers, but if you ain't working for this club," His eyes scanned her body, before landing finally on her face again. "Who are you working for, huh?" He pulled her close, leaning forward briefly as if he was going to kiss her neck but then stood up right. "Mmm, what is that? Perfume? Mm, you know, that perfume smells real good on you. It's almost like you're trying to impress someone." He let her go and start to circle around her teasingly. "He around here somewhere? Don't tell me he ditched you."

This was going to be good.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Sure, instead of being a light blue, his eyes were completely and utterly green as he had sat down at a table near the front of the stage. He knew what every single man was here for. Sure, some of them wanted Kitty, a small, thin blonde girl with a fuck-me smile that he had known from the times he ahd gone into the club before he had ever met Mimi, when they had used to visit the club on a weekly basis. Some of them wanted Angelica, the tall black girl with legs that never quit. But even if the men said they came for Kitty or Angelica or any of the other kittens of the Cat Scratch Club, there was one kitten that they had come to the club to see.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mimi Marquez!

He heard the sound of the announcer over the thumping of the music, and he was probably the only one in the club not cheering as Mimi had come on stage. He simply lifted the beer slowly to his lips as he eyed Mimi almost hungrily. Okay, so maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe this was a little bit of a turn on. All of those guys who's jaws dropped and mouths drooled over Mimi, the famed Feline of Avenue B, well...they could continue to drool. They could go home in the bathroom or back to their houses or their wives and jack off to the images of Mimi that played in their head. But that would be all it would be; simple memories and their own hands. However, Roger would have the memories of Mimi moving on stage, and the actual physical show at home. He would be able to touch her and kiss her and do every little thing that those horny buisness men wished they could do to her. Her set ended and Roger felt himself shift in his seat slightly, only to see Kitty, the thin blonde, come up to him.

"Decided to creep your way from back stage, huh sweetie?" she asked, watching as he smiled. "You know, I never thought you'd be with Mimi." She moved, sliding her hands up his inner thighs slowly. "You used to like me so much." she purred, sliding onto his lap, her breasts pressing against his chest and her hips grinding against his. "I remember you used to tell me all the nasty little things you thought about me." she whispered against his ear.

Roger wanted to bring his hands up around her waist, to grind her hips into his, but she was doing a good job moving on her own to the thumping beat of the club. Roger's eyes opened, scanning the club until he spotted Mimi. He waited for her to look over, and he smiled, lifting a finger to crook at her in the sign for her to come over. It wasn't that he didn't like Kitty. At one point, he would have easily slept with Kitty, but he didn't want Mimi crawling over anyone but him. Besides, he knew the jealousy would rise up in her own body simply by seeing Kitty on top of Roger. At least, that's what he hoped.

[LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS]

It wasn’t her night, it seemed. It struck her as foolish that she’d assumed tonight would be any less of a nuisance than any other night. Kitty should have known that that feeling of foreboding dread that had struck her very vaguely when she first walked into the Cat Scratch Club held some true significance. Instead, she had dismissed it as easily as it came, rationalizing it away by telling herself that that trepidation was unfounded.

Unfortunately, her earlier anxiety had taken the form of a younger male, one whose menacing demeanor made up for his young age. His eyes, squinty as they were, flickered with deviousness of a Machiavelli nature. She knew someone, someone who owned her in the most literal sense, who held that same cunning in his cold eyes. That startling similarity conjured up a vivid image of her subjugator and it caused her to inwardly recoil from this stranger’s taunts.

The brusqueness with which he’d latched onto her arm and pulled her to him stunned her into stillness. Her wild eyes darting back and forth between the rough hand gripping her arm and the guy who the hand belonged to, she felt a sudden chill crawl up her spine. The accuracy with which earlier she’d pinpointed he was the rough type would have alarmed her had she not gotten so used to being correct in that aspect. It was a useless talent, but a talent nonetheless.

Just when she was about to regain her composure, false as it was, and wrench her arm free from his grip, he leaned in to breathe Kitty's scent and so very nearly kissed her neck. A shudder coursed through her lithe body, involuntarily, at the proximity and at the utter resemblance in actions to Spider. Her neck was a point of weakness as it harbored the most sensitive flesh and was more likely to rouse a reaction from her, but the reaction she displayed was a peculiar submissive fear.

Entirely too relieved when he pulled away, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. Taunt after taunt from this alluring stranger increased her ire, but she managed to will away any tell-tale signs of her fluster. He wanted to toy with her and satisfy his thirst for chaos, but she would not give him the gratification of submitting that easily. Swallowing her growing anxiety, she adopted a look of utter indifference and made sure that that indifference seeped into her voice. “Unless you’ve got cash, who I work for is my own business. And yes, that is perfume I’m wearing. It’s called ‘Eau de Next time you put your hands on me, I’ll make you regret it.’ It’s a new fragrance.”

Ridiculously proud of the fact that her apprehension did not manage to slither its way into her tone of voice, she led her gaze to center stage as a Mimi Marquez was called out. Watching with admitted interest, she admired the sultry dance routine much as one would a piece of artwork. She was of fiery beauty, a woman of a beguiling stock that so very rarely she came across. A mane of wondrous curls and fluid movements that reminded her of feline prowess. She could clearly comprehend the appeal. Noting that everyone’s attention had turned to the stage, even the guy who was currently hassling her, she made a move to slip away, only to be met by his steely gaze as he continued his circling.

Putting on an air of frustration that did not take much for her to muster, she commented dryly, “Since you’re circling me like a damn shark, how about you get me another drink while you’re at it? If I’m going to have to put up with you, I’m gonna need some more alcohol in me.” Adding a shrug for effect, she made sure to sharpen her tone. Better to hide her unease than have it known and exploited.



(OOC: Okay, so she didn't slap him. YET. If he continues taunting her, she'll feel a little more inclined. Dally'd probably enjoy it, the sleaze. )

[cuervo]

((As a note: while the writing format for this site is "in third person/omniprescent" tense, you are allowed to write in other tenses. They must be approved by staff first. For Mimi, sometimes I feel it's easier to write her in first person because for me it makes more sense. I wouldn't do that for Mercutio, though. So sometimes I switch it and out of tenses depending on the thread, mood or how the style affects me muse. I hope this doesn't make anyone dizzy. Just a bit of experimentation really )

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Mimi Márquez!"

It is always the same words every night that push me forward and summon me to centre stage. They are simple and my ears are used to hearing them, yet they are profound. Without them, I would be lost. There is something inexplicably powerful about knowing that I am the highlight of the show and possibly their day, and that crowds of people gather each night to watch me move. Sometimes I am greeted by familiar faces and regulars and sometimes new boys leer and drool shamelessly in my presence like hyenas. I smile for them, I twirl and dance and sing for them. I do my job every time to the best of my ability.

As I slowly walked across the wide stage I surveyed my audience like a cat sizing up its prey. They love that routine and for some reason, it never gets old with them. The club's name didn't mention cats for nothing. My leapard-print boots clicked against the wood with every deliberately gradual step until I came to a full stop in the middle of the stage. The sounds of their cheering and catcalling meshed together like white noise as I stared them down. At for a long moment, all I did was glare out into the dark, my body frozen except for the rising and falling of my chest and my eyes scanning the dimly lit heads that stared right back at me. Their screaming got even louder as they waited for me to do something.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Mimi" I began. "Welcome...to the Cat Scratch Club!"

Then the music pumped through the speakers once more and I threw myself at a pole, immediately twisting around it as if I were weightless. The rest of the dancers on the stage followed my lead, grabbing their own poles to dance or their own men to tease.

As I continued with my routine with the pole, I glanced over to the corner and noticed that a certain blonde boy of mine was quite occupied by the presence of another freak on his lap. It was Kitty, that tramp. I was certain that she'd seen Roger many times before. I didn't feel threatened by her, though, because I had the advantage. For one, she had a good ten years on me, so her blood wasn't as young or as free as mine was. But I couldn't deny that my blood boiled whenever I saw her touch him. Roger beckoned me over, and I caught his eye and winked.

When I could finally snatch a clear opening for me to creep away from the spotlight, I returned his call.

"Watch it Kitty, roaming too curiously leads to loss of lives" I said in a tone of voice that seemed smooth to the ear but was clearly charged with ferocity.

Kitty glanced at me and glared. "You think because he invites you into his bed that you have the authority to tell me how I get my kicks? I see the way you flirt and play with all kinds of men here! So fuck off, hypocrite!"

Persistently charming...

"It's a job, nothing more, nothing less. We do it to get by and you of all people should understand that. Roger knows where my loyalty lies..." I explained slowly and calmly. I didn't want to start a scene at my workplace, after all.

"Besides, don't you have better things to do than to hump taken men years younger than you? I suggest you move on before one of our boss notices your negligence."

Kitty opened her mouth as if she were about to retaliate, but quickly closed it and removed herself from Roger's lap with an obvious reluctance. "Not everyone here thinks you're hot shit, Márquez. You're still only just a baby" she spat before she turned on her heel. She was careful not to storm away or to appear bothered as she strutted toward a group of hungry businessmen.

I rolled my eyes and looked at Roger. "I still can't get over that I've got more maturity than she has."


((Hope it was okay to do all that Lucy, she hasn't quite noticed you yet...but she will...))

[ROGER DAVIS]

At one point in his life, he would have found it wonderful and amusing that two strippers were fighting over his lap, and even now, he did still find it amusing, though it was more because of Mimi than anything. He watched as Kitty turned on him slightly, her hips shifting against his as she argued with Mimi, calling her a hypocrite and that she flirted with all the men. He knew she did. He also knew it was a job.

He could easily say he did the same thing, though not int he same context. He didn't shake his ass and grind on top of women for money, but he did make people believe what he wanted them to. Just like Mimi, every time he got on stage, he put an act on. Put his game-face on and went to town.

However, with Mimi, he knew the differences immediately. He knew the look that she gave the men, the one that they all thought was the 'I want you to fuck me' look, was not in fact that look. It was merely a show. Roger knew the exact look, the real look too well. He knew the difference between the sounds of her fake moans and groans from the feline were nothing compared to the sounds she made in his ear when she was riding on top of him. How she clenched her rail-thin arms around his neck and screamed out his name.

No one ever heard that but him.

"Fuck her." Roger stated, and moved, wrapping his fingers around her thin wrist to pull her down onto his lap. Now, he knew that, as a customer, he wasn't allowed to touch the entertainment. He knew that any other schmuck would have gotten thrown out before his fingertips even touched the flesh of Mimi, but all of the bouncers knew him. They knew that Mimi was his. They all had an understanding.

As he felt her settle against his hips. He brought his hand to her hips, digging them into his for effect. "What she doesn't realise," Roger said, his lips by her ear. "Is that coke does amazing shit to my brain, but it also makes ugly people semi-attractive. She also doesn't realise that when I was high, I'd fuck anything." Arching his hips up against hers, he felt a slight groan escape his lips as he smiled. "Y'better not move around there too much up there or you're gonna have to take me to the back. Give me one of those special shows."

Though, as he thought about it, that was exactly what he wanted her to do.

[yolanda7h]

Dally looked down at her, allured by her eyes, a very fitting shade of green. He waited to see her retaliate. He wanted retaliation or compliance. Either one would make his night worth while. No matter what, sparks will fly tonight, and they would either be the kind that hurt or the spectacle kind. And if they were the kind that hurt, well, Dally welcomed it. What else could be better than a hot woman trying to get under his skin? It was like trying to stop a car by jumping in front of it. Just doesn't work. Was Dally proud of that fact? Hell yeah. The more opportunities to prove that he was the stronger one, the better. Why else would he be so proud of his police record? One, he had nothing else really to be proud of and two, just shows that not even the cops can hold him down.

“Unless you’ve got cash, who I work for is my own business. And yes, that is perfume I’m wearing. It’s called ‘Eau de Next time you put your hands on me, I’ll make you regret it.’ It’s a new fragrance.”

Dally let out a small stifled laugh, almost in sarcastic amusement. Ignoring her threat, he said, "So you work for cash, huh? How much are you worth then? If I decide to pay up, I want to know how much bang I get for my buck." His mischievous smile grew wider. He was just about to do the very thing she told him not to do when Mimi Marquez was called onto stage. The green-eyed girl's attention moved in that direction and he looked on as well, and the attitude and spontaneity from Mimi was electric. The way she moved on the pole -- it got everyone riled. Yeah, Darry really needed to see this.

“Since you’re circling me like a damn shark, how about you get me another drink while you’re at it? If I’m going to have to put up with you, I’m gonna need some more alcohol in me.”

Dally's attention was back on the hooker chick. "Why? So you can get trashed, start complaining about your life, start crying and mess up your pretty mascara?" He shook his head, leaning over to her close. "No, babe," He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him, very condescendingly. "I get something for you and I better get something in return. Thats how your hooker business works, right?" His deep tone wasn't threatening, it was more of a challenge, and his narrow eyes looked at her with a cold unreadable glare.

[LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS]

There was a maddening gleam in his eyes that spoke of hedonism in its most simplistic form. The way his dark eyes gave the impression of burning straight through her, almost as if they intended to have that undesired effect, unsettled Kitty to her core. Inadvertently, her steely gaze wavered and she inwardly cringed at the fact that not holding his gaze would most likely depict her weakness.

With the way this night was headed and with the rapidity with which tensions seemed to be escalating, it was almost guaranteed that unwarranted violence was on the horizon. Silently, she lamented over her frighteningly horrible luck. She was cursed with it and somehow it seemed all too familiar. She could not remember anything in the slightest about her past, but something niggled at her that whispered of her always being a victim of unfortunate circumstances. It just appeared to fit perfectly, like if she’d played that role for an interminable amount of time.

Condescending laughter spilled from this menace, causing her to visibly bristle at his actions. His words weren’t any easier to swallow, what with the derogatory remarks and the sleaze-laden passes at her. Trying not to ponder the double-meaning of the quite literal “bang for my buck” statement, she focused all of her energy on keeping her fluster to a bare minimum. No easy task considering she found the things he was saying significantly offensive. Even after years of the same treatment, she was still hyper-sensitive to snide commentary. Perhaps that was the reason for her perpetual suffering, her inability to become habituated to scalding comments.

The seizing of her chin irritated her particularly, all due to the patronizing calculations that went into it. It also heightened her anxiety, not at all comfortable with the forcefulness behind it. Slowly and gradually, she could feel herself crumbling, withering to dust all on account of a stranger’s sick fascination with getting under people’s skin.

Her sultry green eyes scanned the club again, in search of Spider’s client. A short-lived wave of relief swept over at the assurance that he was not present yet. If he were to see Kitty entangled with another man, looking much more intimate than what was actually transpiring, he would likely leave. With him leaving, she would be struck with something more powerful than dread. She’d be struck by a fist, a merciless and acquainted one, belonging to the incorrigible Spider himself.

Jerking her head in an almost horse-like attempt to convince his hand to part, she felt a peculiar smile grace her lips. Pressing her body flush against his, her eyes flickered with a foreign deviousness that Kitty did not normally have. “No, no, no. You have me all wrong,” she teased, her hand trailing down his broad chest and nails biting insistently at his flesh through his shirt.

Leaning in, lips vaguely brushing against his ear, she whispered, “For you, babe, the first hit will be free.” Tongue peeking out to drag upwards along his cheek, the abrupt movement of her knee went unnoticed until it hit her target. Kneeing him in the groin and watching as he hunched over in pain, Kitty suddenly felt like she’d been victim to an out-of-body experience.

Not knowing what had possessed her to act in such a manner and not interested in figuring that out at that exact moment, she swiftly made to move out of his reach. A surge of fear assailed her and she mentally maligned herself for her stupidity. Reacting like she had would only serve to anger him and give him more than enough reason to chase after her and choke the life out of her. With an impending beating weighing down her conscience, she maneuvered herself through the string of people, nearly tripping over herself in her anxiety.

Running was in her future if the occasion called for it.




(OOC: Okay. A sight more dramatic than a slap, but I hope it’s still okay. I kind of forced Lucy into an Amgydala hijack situation just to add a little variation to the character and I hope that’s okay as well.)

[cuervo]

I nodded readily. "I guess it's sad, that she's nearly thirty years old and she's stuck here." I sighed softly when Roger's fingers dig into my waist. My body gave a brief shudder and a few goosebumps rose on my arms in response to the warmth of his fingertips. He was lucky to be my baby, because if any man tried to touch one of the dancers working here in the way he had, they'd have another thing coming. Of course, we'd have to play along and make it seem like it was an acceptable thing to do in the public eye, but there was a fine line that separated us dancers from regular street prostitutes.

Only sometimes did we take guests backstage to fuck them. I never did my job that way, luckily, and while at times I'd had a few offers and requests, I politely declined. Being infected with HIV, I can't risk passing on the disease to someone else, even though I could easily get away with doing that. I refuse to allow anyone to suffer because of me. What's twisted and sick is that if they can't feed their hunger through me, they'll try to find someone else, and that someone else could be infected too.

As long as I dance and sing onstage and flirt with those who visit, my boss is content. Kitty, on the other hand, is the kind of woman who might lead a man to the back rooms.

I grinned, wiggling my torso in slow, suductive circles, this movement allowing my crotch to grind against his lap. "I know exactly what you mean, sir" I replied, pretending for a moment that he was just a stranger who decided to take the opportunity of having a woman not only dancing on his thighs, but who couldn't possibly refuse listening to his mad rantings. It was a social aspect of the job, and unfortunately this was considered a retail service.

I returned back to reality soon. On the far side of the room, I saw a man advance towards a woman very deviously, and she in turn stormed off. I frowned briefly, hoping he wouldn't follow after her and bother her some more, then glanced back at Roger. "I don't know, Rog. The boss might get stingy..." I said honestly. "Besides, Kitty might be occupying a room already."

[yolanda7h]

Dally couldn't help but be distracted as her body pressed against his, her fingers pressing down the length of his chest and her breath on his ear. She was definitely a tease but she also seemed as if she had a little spunk in her. He liked that but was also looking out for whatever move she made. Girls like that were unpredictable and as much as he liked that in a girl, he needed to watch out for himself. But the slight buzz from his drink didn't make him alert enough and before he knew it, he was kneed in the groin.

"Fuck!" He snarled, hunched over as the hooker tried to escape. Yeah, it was fuckin painful, but there was no way he was gonna let this chick get away with that. Cursing a number of explicits under his breath, he made his way through the crowd, following behind her. The pain effected his movement, but no one could tell from his face. No, his eyes were flared with anger. This chick messed with the wrong guy. The only thing on his mind now was getting to her and letting her know that.

Dally was strong and tall enough to push through whoever was in his way. His shoulders and hands rammed into several people and Dally offered no apologies. This advantage made him a little quicker and he was able to reach out and grab the woman's arm. Tight. Flinging her around, his eyes almost manic.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he spat and promptly shoved her with all the strength he had, enough force to make her lose her balance. "I'll kill you, you fucker," he said, advancing towards where ever she happened to land, his fist ready. He was just aiming to get her shaking, get her scared, because if she knew what was good for her, she'd think twice before she ever tried that shit on him again. On lookers gasped, and looked on, not sure what to do, too drunk to react quickly.

(ok somewhere around now Rog and mimi should make an appearance lol)

[cuervo]

One loud and aggresive male voice somehow broke through the noise of the club and reached my ears. My head snapped up immediately in alarm. "Roger, did you hear that?" I asked as I scanned the club for any signs of danger, impending or underway. I sighted that man I had seen advancing on the woman just moments before, only now he was towering over her with an angry fist raised. The expression on his face was clearly one of startling animalistic rage, even from this distance.

"I'm going over there" I said instantly. I don't know why I felt so compelled to help, but I just was, and it moved me. I had to do something before she got hurt. I jumped off Roger's lap and shot him a quick look that asked if he would follow before sprinting quickly to the scene.

"Back away from her, asshole!"

The words escaped my lips in a sort of enraged battle cry before I could even think. I maneuvered quickly and leaped in front of him, glaring up and meeting his horrifyingly cold eyes.

"Mimi, don't risk yourself getting hurt. It's our job to throw nutcases out" interjected a bouncer as he arrived beside me. He turned to the young man, his eyes steely and his voice gravely serious. "If you get violent, we're going to have to throw you out, sir."

But I didn't want to leave. I breathed heavily, relentlessly glaring at the stranger as hard as I could. Unfortunately, I couldn't deny the build up of fear that was beginning in my stomach. Joel was tough, though, and there were other bouncers that could come over quickly if the jerk decided to ignore the warning.

[ROGER DAVIS]

I know exactly what you mean, sir.

A sharp breath escaped his lips, quick and short as he felt her hips grind into his. "Oh, Christ, baby. Right there." Roger whispered, his eyes slipping closed as he moved his hands to her hips, slowly guiding them. When she spoke again, speaking of Kitty occupying a room, Roger brought a hand up, cupping her cheek. His thumb slipped between her lips, and he moved her hips down harshly against his. "Fuck the room. There's always a hallway. Or a bathroom. I don't give a shit if I fuck you right here, but I need to. Now." Roger whispered quickly before he pressed his lips hard against hers, his tongue slipping easily between her parted lips.

However, Roger felt Mimi's lips quickly leave his, and heard her utter that she was going over there. Roger looked at her, confused. "Wait, what? Hey!" Roger said as she quickly shot up from his lap. "You are so not leaving me like this! Mimi! You cannot leave me like this, baby!" Roger pleaded, though when he saw what Mimi was running to, and who she was running to, Roger's mood instantly turned from horny, to worried. And more so when Mimi got into the fray. Roger shot up and moved quickly behind his girlfriend, wrapping both of his arms around Mimi's thin waist tightly and protectively.

"Whoa. Whoa, calm down, honey." Roger told her, and he narrowed his eyebrow deeply. "Dude, you do not want to start shit here. I've seen people get their asses handed to them at this club for touchin' any girl." Roger told the man that he had seen hurt Kitty.

"You okay, Kitten?" Roger asked, and then glanced at the large bouncer beside him and Mimi, wondering if he was going to toss the man out.

[LUCY "KITTY" HARRIS]

Idiot! Moron! Fucking imbecile!

Kitty continually chastised herself as she weaved her way through the people that were scattered about the club, uttering feeble apologies as she made for the exit. Or at least in the vague approximation of where the exit was. Her sense of direction was admittedly off. Justifiably so, considering that her mind was a bit preoccupied with the dread that a damn maniac was likely chasing after her. She needed only the angry comments of patrons who were undoubtedly shoved aside by said maniac to assure her of the fact that he wasn’t going to let her little stunt slip. There had to be repercussions for what she’d done and again, she found herself cursing her idiocy. She had no clue how in her empty little head, she’d figured that a guy like him was going to just leave her be after a knee in the groin. What, had she assumed that he would be so terrified of her sudden violence that he wouldn’t retaliate with some of his own? That was precisely why she was an imbecile.

Daring to look back to gauge the distance between her and the stranger, her eyes grew wide with terror at the sight of him rapidly gaining on her. Attempting to quicken her pace, she was completely halted by the painfully tight gripping of her arm and the forceful shove that accompanied his yelling. She was flung to the ground before she could get her bearings and landed with a resounding thud, though it was drowned out by the raucous music.

Lying pitifully on floors that were sticky with spilled drinks and all-around grime, she turned herself over and was met by him looming over her, eyes flared with anger and his fist poised to commence the beating. She panicked and in her panic she revenged her shove with a deft kick to the shin. Just as she was about to chastise herself by again doing something to anger him further, another angry voice rang out, though this one was not directed at her and belonged to a woman. Raising her frightened eyes in search of whoever’s voice that was, a surge of comingled relief and anxiety swept over her. It was Mimi, the exotic dancer that had graced the stage earlier. She was coming to Kitty’s defense. Kitty was glad that she had someone defending her, but was also highly unnerved by the fact that this guy could easily turn on her as well. He seemed like the type, anyway.

That was when, of course, a bouncer interjected, followed by a familiar voice. Switching her attention from the bouncer to the familiar male voice, she let out an audible sigh of relief. Roger, her guy-pal, or so she’d deemed him, was also at Mimi’s side. Responding to Roger’s question with a shaky nod, she took the hand that the bouncer offered to her and got up, her clothes and hair slightly disheveled from the fall.

Straightening herself out somewhat and mumbling a small thank you to those that had come to her aid, she made certain to avoid the irate glare that she was likely receiving. Instead, she focused her eyes on the still balled-up fist that the guy was sporting, knowing full-well that her foolishness almost got her into deeper trouble than what was initially expected.



(OOC: Sorry about the lack of depth. I figured that a filler was more called for than a lengthy exposition. -.-

Also Sammeh, I hope you don't mind Lucy referring to Roger as her 'guy-pal'. I kind of figured that our other thread would head down that road anyway.

[yolanda7h]

Dally could feel his heart thumping out of pure anger and adrenaline, the kind of feeling he gets when in a rumble with the Socs. Only this time, instead of wanting to beat the shit out of someone, he wanted to scare the shit out of someone. No, he wasn't thinking as his fist was pulled back, threatening to knock the woman out. He wasn't thinking about the crowd around him, or the bouncer that was sure to come. He only cared about seeing that hooker run, crying, and regretting ever messing with him again.

But the girl struggled, kicking him in the shin. "You mother fucker," he growled through clenched teeth, letting the fist go and moving to grab her, just to ruffle her up some more. But he was intercepted by some curly haired woman. Yeah, she was the same woman he'd just seen dancing on the poles.

""Back away from her, asshole!"

Dally took a deep breath, as if trying to prevent himself from lashing out at her too. He didn't like being made a fool of, and there was no way in hell he'd let two chicks do that to him. "Fuck you," He said with venom, stepping forward to push her out of his way, but then a bouncer came.

"Mimi, don't risk yourself getting hurt. It's our job to throw nutcases out. If you get violent, we're going to have to throw you out, sir."

Dally glared at the bouncer, and already he was beginning to calm down, his heartbeat starting to slow. He knew he needed to keep a cool head about this situation now. Number one, he didn't want to have the guys he was with quiz him on how he got thrown out because of two broads. And if he pushed it further, for sure, the bouncer would call the cops.

"Fuck, man, you kidding me right?" he asked, the same amount of anger sitting in his voice, even when he started to calm down. Habitually, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand stepping back a bit. Then the boyfriend decided to interject.

"Dude, you do not want to start shit here. I've seen people get their asses handed to them at this club for touchin' any girl."

His eyes shot to him and he stepped forward threateningly as the guy wrapped his arms around Mimi. "I don't give a shit. Why don't you take your stripper girlfriend and stay the fuck out of this?"

The bouncer grabbed Dally's arm and pulled him back. "Alright. Enough. Give it a rest, will ya?"

Dally yanked his arm away. "While you're throwing me out, why don't you throw out that fucking whore while you're at it?" he stepped forward looking around Mimi and the guy to make eye contact with the girl apparently named "Kitty." "Isn't that what you are? Huh? Pull that shit again and you'll get what's coming to you."