Jackson "Jack" Maxwell Rodriquez

location = Chef's Drive-In

Jackson finally escaped the clutches of the Delta Times offices, multiple waits, secretaries, forms and things to do just to run some job adverts, an press ad for the upcoming events and convince an archivist who perhaps was older than the building to find the old copies and photos he was researching into.

Breaking out the busy, maze-like labyrinthianium offices that the Delta times called home into the bright sunlight of downtown stomach reminding him he skipped breakfast this morning. The smell of the food vendors warming up only made it more prominent, hot dogs, coffee, mexican, you wanted fast food downtown was great... When the places had grills hot anyway.

"Thanks for the new winch and clutch so fast, Bring wife, get you a beach side with a nice bottle on the house." Catching someone he knew as heading to car and owed a favour for helping fix the old truck got when renovating, plus handy for collecting large volumes from Industry Easts bulk suppliers saving the carriage fees and delays."Next Friday Jack, make that a decent red and steaks are good."

"Consider it done, just drop me a call what time you want." Waving off and reaching the gleaming black and chrome Chevy dropping his briefcase in the rather spacious boot. It was pretty stupidly large but the Impala never let him down and the V8 ran like a Swiss watch.

Cruising out of downtown, Sushi was an option he had picked up a liking two in Asia but this morning tastes were less fish and more fries. Opening up the gas on the main road remembering an old place that did a great food, a bit less shiny but solid food and strong hot coffee. Perfect, well once he swung by feeling indulgent going for the full service fuel station on the way, a generous tip later the tank was full and the windscreen even cleaned.

A short run later Jackson pulled into the weed split parking lot, though the gleaming shape of a helicopter? That was not normal for this place. The Diamond sure, the high end hotels and fancy 7 figure apartment blocks but it certainly stood out here. He had skipped breakfast or lunch more than a few times here before, especially when they had completely stripped out the hotel gas supply and replaced it, meaning no hot food for anyone!

Mysteries could wait.

Ignoring the rather odd addition to the local area, hunger was a strong motivation finding a booth in the care worn diner. Glancing round at the mornings patrons in an old habit locating the exits and internal doors, a business looking man, some locals and others traveling through on the road. The rather well dressed owner he assumed was busy directing people so not too long to wait. Honestly it seemed pretty normal. He missed the one he probably would regret not spotting later though!

Coffee, black as a night sky in the countryside, nice stack of fresh warm pancakes... Maple syrup. Yes. That's what he needed.

"Miammi Rebellion!"

hearing the shout and seeing a woman, with... Hopefully no trouble, Jackson was hungry and really wanted a coffee. Please be no trouble anyway! A man needs a coffee after dealing with beurachracy on an empty stomach and early morning. "Una mañana tranquila por favor ... _{One quiet morning please}". Slipping into Spanish without thinking of his second language, thanks to his father he grew up bilingual.

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PJ left the editor’s office with the other reporters feeling a tad dejected. His first assignment for the day was to retrieve the police log from Headquarters. It was a menial task, someone had to do. Usually, one of the junior reporters did it. He knew GiGi had done it a few times.

But PJ liked to turn this ordeal in his favor.

He parked the Camaro on the street; yes, found a spot near police headquarters and walked inside. The sergeant behind the desk wore his grey hair well along with the bulbous red nose and blood shot eyes. If it weren’t for the sheet of plexi-glass between him and the desk sergeant, PJ was certain he would smell the booze reeking off the guy. The man’s size was quite large too; nothing like the physical fitness standards he had to deal with in the military. This man looked like he was 60 and on death’s door. Probably more like 48 or 50.

“May I have a copy of the log please? I am with the Times,” PJ spoke through the handset on the outer side of the glass.

“Let me see your ID,” Sergeant Bauer responded from his side.

Philip dug out his wallet, pulled out his Times Identification and held it up to the glass.

The sergeant nodded, then pulled out a stapled document containing three pages of typed text detailing every incident the Delta City Police Department dealt with in the past 24 hours. Most of the items were brief blurbs, but did contain names, addresses, complaints, and crimes committed. “Thanks,” Philip spoke, hung up the handset, grabbed the document and left, returning to his car.

When he was safely inside the Z28, he flipped through the pages to see if there were any noteworthy stories in the log.

2330 hours – man at Trader Jon’s complained of rowdy patrons starting a fight in their establishment. Officers dispatched. Perpetrators gone upon arrival. Description taken.

0015 hours – Female, 39, arrested for OUI on Pace Island driving her 1988 Mercedes Benz 560 SL black convertible. Same held on bail at Seminole Precinct Station.

0135 Hours – Security guard at Bayou Manufacturing reports a Break in at their facility in Industry East. Detectives Sherbrooke and Colon initiated investigation.

0210 Hours – DCFD responded to a three-alarm fire at Jennings Brothers in Industrial East. Officers dispatched. Reported three fatalities and two firefighters sent to the hospital for smoke inhalation. Detectives Martin and Brown initiated investigation.

With that last item found, Philip knew this was another one of the arson cases he had been writing about. He planned to phone his editor once he arrived at the Industry East Police Precinct. He figured the two detectives working the case would be asleep by now, but someone at the station would know something. There were plenty of other items on the document, but Philip only cared about the factory fire on the east side of town.

He started the car and headed to the police precinct. PJ popped his mix cassette into the slot above the radio. The first song playing was Microphone Fiend by Eric B. & Rakim. After passing the railroad yard, the song changed to Rock the Bells by LL Cool J. PJ was in the groove by the time he arrived at the Police station.

Upon entering the precinct, he headed to the payphone in the corner to call his editor.

“Hey Chief, it’s PJ,” he spoke into the phone.

“What’s up kid?” the fifty something year old newspaper man queried.

“I got the log. There was a fire in Industry East last night. I’m at the police precinct to get some more info.”

“yea, yea. Good call, kid. Keep me posted. Don’t be too long. I need that log here on my desk by 10.”

“Yes sir,” PJ said to his boss. He hung up the phone and turned to the desk sergeant. This one was black, bald with a thick furry black and grey mustache over his lip. The man had bloodshot eyes and was overweight. Undoubtedly this one was just as hungover as the last police sergeant he spoke with. ‘These guys really need some exercise,’ PJ thought to himself. ‘And to leave the booze alone.’

This time PJ pulled his Times ID out of his billfold and presented it to the African American police sergeant. “My name is Philip Mason, I am a reporter with the Delta City Times. Is there a detective I could speak with about the fire at Jennings last night?”

PJ got a solitary finger indicating he wait a minute. The man picked up the phone and called the detective bureau. “Detective Martin will be with you shortly. Please take a seat.”

“Thanks,” PJ responded and took a seat on the hard wooden bench against the far wall. The bulletin board behind his back was covered with images of wanted fugitives, individuals with arrest warrants and missing children. PJ took a cursory glance at the board filled with pictures, seeing no one appearing familiar to him. He sat looking around the lobby area. There was an elderly man, unshaven wearing a wool hat and heavy overcoat…in Florida? His eyes were just as ruddy as the cop’s, but sadder. A young woman wearing a black blouse and jeans sat about ten feet away. Her big black hair was tousled, and her mascara had run down her cheeks. She had a terribly grim look on her face too.

“Rosita Enriquez?” a female police officer announced from an open door.

The dark-haired woman looked up and stood. “I am Rosita,” she responded.

“Please come with me. You can see your husband now.”

PJ looked at his wristwatch. A full ten minutes went by since he entered the station. ‘Obviously reporters were not police officer’s favorite people.’ Twenty minutes later the door opened. A thirty-something year old Hispanic police detective in short sleeve shirt and necktie stepped out. “Philip Mason?”

PJ looked up just as Rosita had. He jumped to his feet and uttered. “I am Philip Mason.”

“Come with me, Mr. Mason. We can talk in one of the rooms down the hall.” The man allowed PJ to enter the hall. He closed the door and then spoke to Philip in his native language, “¿De donde es tu familia?”

PJ understood the language and responded curtly, “Cuba.” Spanish had been an easy A in High School; both his mother and grandmother spoke the language at home. He grew up knowing both English and Spanish.

...
On the drive back to the Delta City Times, the cassette player blared Parents Just Don’t Understand by DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince and then before reaching downtown, the song changed to Express Yourself by N.W.A.

He dropped the log off with his editor and gave him a rundown on what he learned from Detective Martin at the Industry East precinct. He left the Times, jumped into his Chevy and headed to the Chef for lunch. He wanted to tell GiGi about what he learned this morning.

@almalthia

Blinking at Karina and tipping her head a little at the assumption that she'd serve them a dirty piece of flatware, GiGi hid her smile but her eyes sparkled. She tapped beside her lip not wanting to smear her lipstick. "Don't believe everything you see on TV sweets. I wouldn't work here if it wasn't clean. Orange juice and coffee coming right up ladies."

GiGi smirked as she recalled the fan that was so eager to have the girl's autograph. It had been hard not to stare intently at Sena after reading the little message. She mentally shrugged as she walked over to get the drinks for the girls.

The man sitting muttered something about a quiet morning. "Not a chance, guapo. Lo siento, that's not on the menu around here. What can I get you?" Nevaeh popped a hip out eyes running over the pretty boy.

Cutting her eyes back to the girls GiGi made sure that no one was mobbing them. Where are their bodyguards? She quickly got the orange juice and coffee with a small chilled container of cream, just in case it was needed. Walking past Nevaeh and caught a quick glance at the babe at the table who was likely soon to be drooled over by Nevaeh, maybe herself. It was a big maybe. He had a nice bod and killer eyes but that didn't mean he could move.

GiGi liked being picky. She wasn't picky about much but a guy had to check all her boxes or he didn't get past the friend zone. Lifting an eyebrow at Nevaeh and gliding over to her table GiGi set down the drinks in front of the ladies. "You ladies need a few minutes more or are you ready now?"
@Pilatus@PrinceAlexus

Isabella Daphne Belle

location = Sushi Place (Team Sushi)

Isabella left the study building, winding her way through the brightly lit lobby and its various shaded walkways that linked to other parts of the technology campus at Delta University. It was one of most modern and newest areas as a large plaque proclaimed the man who donated the land and money for its construction. Least rich person using money for a mostly good cause.

Henry was an interesting character though he might need the patience of a few hundred saints if he thought she might learn to play chess at a more complicated level than a beginner. She could make a computer think, react and even learn from mistakes and adapt its own probability calculations just not play the game personally very well.

The project seemed to have a lot of potential and Professor Jones, while somewhat wizzardy would never put her into a bad situation that did not benefit her and and PHD work. Henry could be interesting to get to know, rather... Carefully chosen in his words and actions potentially but he seemed polite and raised no red flags.

Reaching her little suzuki samurai it was a fairly short drive to the sushi place. Just the lunch time traffic was rather busy and finding a place to park was somewhat more challenging nervously parallel parking on a street close by. "Come on... Only once more." finally getting into line on the 6th try easing off the clutch that all the city driving had been heavier on.

Glancing in the mirror before leaving with a quick touch up on lipstick, Isabella liked to look least presentable and dress nicely as first impressions counted for alot and never know who you bump into. Chucking some coins in the meter before heading to sushi place, not the only person to decide it was qn favourite for lunch. A taller more pale looking man was eating inside with a camera and various additional kit with him. Another customer seemed to match his extra eye with a missing eye and black eye patch though the pirate look ended their well dressed sharp outfit and was unlikely to raid and rip bodices of duchess's in steamy ship board forbidden romances. Both were about her height so maybe people were just taller here and fit in rather well.

"Number 1, 12, 17, extra rice... Oh and one of those please" Finding a Japanese probably not imported drink by the front counter placing her order with a harried and flustered looking young man who may be fairly new. "Of..of course miss, Chef is preparing a fresh salmon batch so your order be around 10-15 minutes." The teanager? Maybe finding some more confidence.

"I can wait. Thank You." Directed to a table and ending up near the photographer and the city's smartest dressed pirate. It certainly was a strange gathering through the city... Well not shy about being different, the man with a camera was more in his own world like she got when working on a problem. Finding her note book in hand bag, Isabella started doodling out an idea she had in the car heading over, rolling the fountain pen between her fingers trying to make sense of it.

Careful not to drip ink on the table or her dress, ever try getting ink out... Its painful. Her best ideas always came at strangest moments taking a drink from. Whatever Japanese drink it was choosing it based on the berries on label. Rather nice in fact for a random choice made on a label and what looked interesting.

"Oops... Sorry. Got caught up in my work." Accidently tapping one of them while picking up a dropped coloured pen she was using to sort and link her ideas together while waiting for lunch.

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---

"That's a good one. I certainly wouldn't mind some good sashimi."

As someone with a bit of international travel, Henry knew quite a bit about other cultures and lifestyle. While he never had that opportunity to visit Japan, their culture wasn't exactly unpopular in the countries that he visited during his tournaments. If anything, he would not deny that their food, for some inexplicable reason, was always filling regardless of how small the portion looked like. His only guess was that it was so compacted with nutrients that it was so, unlike the fat-saturated American fast food.

As for Isabella, well there's not a lot to be particularly impressed or unimpressed yet. If anything she looked, or tried to look, more like a Broadway actress rather than an AI grad student. It was pretty, but it was a bit flashy. It might be because he grew up in a world full of often overly-serious people in front of a plastic board and wooden figures that Henry favored something more conservative. But hey, at least she wasn't that obsessive type only focused on whatever is in front of them. Perhaps she could teach him a bit about how to dance.

Regardless, Henry followed the girl on his own drive to Shogun Sushi. The somewhat heavy traffic was a perfect opportunity for the man to revisit some of his old games in his head. It was a lot more about being bored from it that made a person go insane from being stuck, and Henry was never one to let his mind go inactive for even a second. As a result, it wasn't so bad for him, and hey, he'd get there when he gets there. Nevertheless, he decided to be strategic about his parking, as he took a different turn away from Shogun Sushi into a parking lot close to a mall a few blocks down and walked up to the Sushi Shop. It was a bit faster, and he didn't mind the little walk. Entering Shogun Sushi, Isabella had already arrived a bit before he did, along with many hungry customers just like him. Some having really...interesting appearances.

"May I have the bento box please. Florida roll and salmon with the rice." He made his orders, and was then directed towards a table of his own, but he preferred to sit at Isabella's, since there were two chairs there and one was unused.

"You two together?" But the small request did raise the eyebrow in the waiter directing him. Well, that wasn't completely unexpected.

"Acquainted." He curtly shrugged, before turning over to Isabella. "If you don't mind."

@PrinceAlexus

&

Sena Knight

Sena had moved her sunglasses up prior to GiGi’s return, tousling back her black hair with the frames and exposing the red ribbon slightly more. She regarded the other girl carefully, sitting with her hand propped against her cheek. They were about the same age and she had noticed GiGi examine her message to their young fan. “You know, you’re really pretty.” She said with a slight smirk, completely serious and ignoring the blonde girl’s question about their order.

Karina’s eyes lifted from the menu, where she’d been trying to understand some of the local items. Cheesy Western? What did that mean? Sure, she got the cheese part, but how far west? Did they really call it that? No way. However, she knew when Sena was up to something and she curiously glanced up at GiGi to see her reaction.

GiGi blinked as she was blind-sided with Sena's compliment. "I'll take the compliment since I'm pretty sure you look in the mirror at least once a day." She tipped her head and her blonde ponytail swung lightly brushing across her back. "So…" GiGi poured Sena some coffee making sure to leave some room for add ins. "What are a couple of high class ladies, like yourselves doing downtown? Taking advice from Mr. Joel?"

“See, she agrees.” Sena’s smirk increased at GiGi’s response.

“Mmmhmmm…” Karina gave a sly grin.

Sena was about to speak again when a raucous noise entered alongside the sound of jingling door bells and she instantly knew it was Danny talking boisterously on his cellular along with their pilot. He quickly hung up with a rather aggressive button-push to end the call once he found Sena and Karina.

“Ha! What a day!” He said with a mix of satisfaction and frustration before checking his watch. Whatever the conversation had been, his mood seemed to have lightened considerably from the flight over. He looked around, noticing the commotion he had caused and recognizing one particular hotel proprietor when he had an idea. “One check.” He said to GiGi motioning with a single finger.

“Danny…” Sena said with a familiar sense of feigned civility. She hated being interrupted.

“One check for everybody! Courtesy of Knight Enterprises.” He announced.

“...Danny” Her tone became more curt.

“Whatever they want,” Danny continued. He could see the regulars expressions turning from cautious surprise to approval. He even recognized a few faces from years back. One old-timer held up his coffee mug in appreciation, prompting Danny to pick up the cup GiGi had just placed on the table and take a healthy swig along with him. He winced slightly at the taste. “Sweet Jesus... Nevaeh must be working.” He looked up seeing her tending to Jackson. “Nevaeh! Looking wonderful as usual-…”

“Danny!” Sena finally barked.

The sound of her voice hit the Sweeper like a jolt of electricity and he wheeled back around. “Yes Sena, my dear, sorry! Big developments, big moves. I’ll tell you-”

“Hello Danny.” She spoke as if she were putting a small child back in the lunch line, resetting the conversation.

“Yes, Sena?” He knew this tactic of hers and waited for the question.

“Are there any openings for staff at the Diamond?” She asked. “In the restaurant?” It was common to refer to the downtown location as the Diamond as it was the first built. Sena didn’t care for the slang nickname Double-D.

“Oh so this is an HR meeting now?” Danny said with a coy smile. “We could have had this back at the hotel, you know with the other squares.”

Sena blazed a look of cold death right back at him and said nothing.

“Kidding! Kidding!” He raised his hands defensively. “I have no idea, why? Who’s asking?”

“I think GiGi would be a good fit for us there.” In an instant her entire demeanor changed from roaring hatred towards their band manager to warm invitation as she glanced back at GiGi. She had noticed the blonde’s name-tag early on. “What do you think?” She asked. “Would you want to come work with us downtown? Or uptown rather?” She said with a slight raise of an enticing eyebrow, playing off the girl’s musical allusion.

Smiling GiGi was about to make a witty remark when those damned bells went off. Turning sideways she glanced over at Nevaeh who in a saccharine voice said, "Welcome to Chef's!"

Rolling her eyes she turned back to the girls only to have the awkward moments of the new occupant of the restaurant announce his lack of tact and apparently his overabundance of wealth. She raised an eyebrow at the man as Sena almost slew him in one breath with one word. His name.

GiGi blinked down at Sena. Is.. is this chica like a 40 year old mother of 3 teenage boys?! Cause she sounds just like one. Like she'd gladly stuff him in a barrel and roll him down a hill. Then it was like Wimbledon all over again. Martina Navratilova versus Pat Cash this time, and Martina was serving fireballs. GiGi watched as if at this tennis match. She'd almost dumped the coffee on Danny when he grabbed the cup. Damned ingratitude of men.

GiGi looked over at Nevaeh who whipped out. "You damned right I did. Made it just how Bert likes it. Didn't I sugar?" Bert, the old timer, lifted his mug in a salute yet again. Nevaeh lowered her voice but grumbled out. "Don't know how I feel about a man tellin' me how I look in front of people when he says different when we're alone. Keep your forked tongue in your mouth."

GiGi was half listening to Nevaeh on one side and Danny and Sena on the other. When the famous, or rather, infamous Danny tossed in HR and the word squares she raised a brow. So when Sena actually said her name GiGi turned toward the girl and smiled at her referring to Uptown Girl. "You know it would have to be Uptown wouldn't it? Let me get you a clean mug I just noticed has a spot on it."

Moving to get a clean mug GiGi was waylaid by Nevaeh. "Excuse me what?! You cannot be seriously thinking of going all Diane on me!"

"Oh so I can't move on to a better job? I've been here since Cheers started. No before it started. I need better pay with the paper still paying me as a freelancer. I can't ask that of Chef, not to mention you. Working with a part time kid who's making more than you. Yeah, not happening. Claro que no, Chiquita. This right here is a chance, a sign that things are turning around. I have to take it." GiGi pleaded for Nevaeh to realize that she needed this.

"Well when you put it that way…"

GiGi hugged Nevaeh, grabbed a mug, the pot of coffee and the orange juice walking back over to the table. Pouring the coffee, a fresh pot this time, in another mug and slid it towards Sena then she topped off Karina’s orange juice. "Sounds too good to be true. Me? Work for a rock band?" She paused for a moment. "Do I answer to ya'll or to a 3rd party? Do I have to wear a uniform like this? Is it just waitressing? What kind of atmosphere is it? Am I asking too many questions?"

“Don’t worry about any of that stuff,” Sena said cooly with a gentle wave of her hand. “Just be there Monday morning and we’ll take care of the rest.”

@Almalthia
@PrinceAlexus

Dorian LaValle

Location: Shogun Sushi (Team Sushi)

Finding a table relatively set apart from the other patrons, Dorian opted to have a specialty tea prepared for him in lieu of a meal as he did not feel like this upcoming meeting was going to last extremely long and the cocaine he snorted earlier had curtailed his appetite for food. Much like the preparation of food, even the simple act of brewing tea has been elevated into an experience at this establishment highlighting the grace and finesse it took to create such dishes. Dorian always enjoyed needless pageantry, but today his mind was preoccupied with the forthcoming encounter as there were a plethora of variables to take into consideration most of which lay outside of control and he absolutely loathed not being in control. The tea sommelier gingerly placed a small dish of emerald leaves on the table, Dorian noticed that the older man was intently studying him as if to get some sort of read on his character. Ultimately it was of no concern to Dorian as he knew that Gyokuro was considered a luxury even in Japan and it is not too often that someone is willing to pay for it here in the states; he came to the conclusion that the old codger was probably just afraid he was going to dine and dash. Dorian cleared his throat and the sommelier began the intricate series of motions involved in preparing the Gyokuro tea, the ritualized movements were overall aesthetically pleasing and managed to pull his attention away from his train of thought serving as a momentary distraction. Afterwards Dorian took a small sip and let the liquid rest on his tongue for a few tantalizing seconds in order to experience the full flavor of the tea, it had a sweet aftertaste that lingered in his mouth. Perhaps sensing his pleasure with the tea the sommelier took off, leaving Dorian to people watch as he waited for the scheduled meeting to commence. Using his good eye to scope out the establishment he noticed a few other customers milling about, but this place was far from being filled to capacity which was unfortunate as a packed house would make discussing illicit matters easier. The loudest customers were two aged frat boys who were having a heated discussion about a yacht race the pair had apparently been involved in; they seemed to blame each other for their team’s less than stellar placement; it was mindless prattle.

Dorian took a sip of his tea and after procuring a pen from one of the servers he began to mindlessly doodle on one of the napkins, he always had time to indulge in his passions even in such an undignified way. Oh, how he wished he was in his make-shift studio right now, he had such an urge to create. He debated on going out to his car and receiving his sketchpad, but decided against it as he need not attract any more undue attention. Before he could properly flesh out his impromptu drawing, he was rudely interrupted by a woman colliding into him. What was this platinum-blonde ditz’s problem, it was only through dumb-luck that his expensive tea was not spilled. Putting down the pen he took a sip of said tea before addressing the would-be-ruffian in a condescending tone of voice.

“Hmph, I am sure the maze on the placemat can certainly be considered ‘work’ for someone possessing such tact and grace as yourself. But I suppose I can accept your pardons little lady, I can’t expect everyone I come across to adhere to my lofty standards. Now how about you gather your special friend that is galivanting behind you and run along darling, I am sure the playground at the fast-food joint down the road is more suited to handle those of your ilk.” He makes a shooing motion with his free hand dismissively to punctate his point before taking another sip of tea.

At that moment two figures enter Shogun Sushi. The first figure is an older gentleman, who despite being in his early-sixties looked more haggard than his age suggested; he has dark circles under his eyes and his style could be described as haphazard at best. To others it would seem like he got dressed in a hurry as it is clear that he is wearing a tweed jacket and pants over his pajamas; unruly stubble also suggests that he hasn’t shaved today. His demeanor is one of dejection he shambles around like a man in daze, while his eyes dart around in desperation looking for someone or something; it is almost like watching a man being led to the gallows. The younger second figure is clad in a matching denim jacket and denim jeans; he is looking much less morose than his companion and walks with a certain pep in his step. He wears an expression akin to a dog that just performed a command and is looking for a treat. This giddy man sports a black rat-tail and a patchy beard that does not fill out his face well. When the duo-move the younger man follows closely behind the older one never letting him fall behind, at one point he gives a shove as the old man attempts to slow down to talk to the two aged frat-bros. The old man puts his hands in his pockets of his suit and shambles along.

A glimmer of hope crosses the old man’s eyes as he recognizes someone sitting amongst the patrons, a freelance photographer that he once employed to photograph his nephew’s bar mitzvah; the old man felt blessed that he still possessed a knack for remembering the names and faces of those he briefly interacted with. He approaches the photographer with a renewed vigor that took his companion by surprise and before he could be stopped he sat across from Sid.

“Sid? Sid? Is that you? It is me Reuben. Reuben Hersh. You know the owner and founder of PriorArty Gallery. You see it is a play or priority...prior..art..y. Nevermind. You were the photographer at my nephew Issac’s bar mitzvah a few months back. Right? Remember? Anyways, it has come to my attention that I have never had the chance to properly tip you. Remember? So here you go.”

Reuben reaches into jacket pocket, produces his wallet, pulls out an assortment of bills of varying denominations and holds it out to Sid. It is not an exorbitant amount of money only adding up to a few hundred dollars at most, Reuben looks at Sid almost pleading with his eyes for the other man to lean in and take the money before his 'shadow' has the chance to swoop in.

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Gwendolyn Dexter Barrett

Location: Shogun Sushi/ Mandrian Park

While Gwen was driving to Shogun Sushi she was listening to the radio, a song she had not listened to in a long time started up (youtube.com/watch?v=swuzkq0Q8nw). This song reminded her of a friend of hers in high school, she would go with him to smoke dope underneath the staircase. He was much like her, both of his parents hated him for being gay, they had a lot in common besides their parents hating them, but she felt he was the only person that could listen to him. She wondered what happened to him if he was able to get out of Boston and live happily ever after. Parking her car in one of the parking spots, she took a moment to compose herself. Taking deep breaths and telling herself that she was going to not going to fuck up the deal.

Getting out of her car a few moments later walking towards the front door of the Sushi place. She was not there to order anything, she was there to meet her guy who was going to give her the vials to sell. Opening the door she was greeted by a Japanese man saying something in her foreign language, he had a big smile on his face while chopping away at the slab of salmon in front of him. “Uhh Yo.” Gwen just waved her hand and took a seat at a booth. Ordering a glass of water since she was not planning on staying there for long. While waiting for her guys she scanned the room of the other patrons in the restaurant. Sitting in the booth so she had her legs in front of her. A scold was on her face watching the other patrons talking to each other, still feeling like an outsider. Watching the door open noticing a Latino man walking over towards her booth. Sitting properly the man took a seat across from her, he was dressed like any other Chicano she sees on the streets. “You look good chica, how ya been?” He said as Gwen stared at him like he was trash. “I’ve been fine, been practicing a new song with my crew. And we got something going for a music deal.” She placed her hands onto the table, suddenly feeling the Latinos on her’s. “You know i worry about ya cariño (Sweetheart).” She could feel the vial being handed to her as he moved his hands away. ‘I appreciate the concern but I’m doin okay, besides I don’t think your girl would be okay with you flirting with me.” Showing him a smile before finishing her glass of water. Being told where to meet his friend. She gave the waitress a tip before heading out towards her car. Once in her car, she headed towards her client.

From what she was told by the Latino her client was a bodybuilder that was going to meet her at Mandarin Park. Changing the radio to something more her speed (youtube.com/watch?v=v9kaAnmNIKY&list=…), Driving towards the park and finding a tight parking spot between two mom vans. Making her way to a park bench sitting down and waiting for her buyer to come. Ignoring the sounds of happy children and parents playing with them. Trying not to remember her shitty childhood.

Mentioned: @Pilatus

Lee Stephens

By the time he had finished his shift at Port Delta, Lee had personally driven a forktruck, a crane, a frontend loader and at least two yard trucks. It was a normal day and the good thing about Wednesday was, as the regular expression went throughout the shift: tomorrow’s Friday. As his crew worked four, ten-hour days, Thursday was the last day of the week with Friday being always optional to work overtime with the weekend crew. The union didn’t always care for his willingness to do all the jobs of the shift, or work over the set hours, but generally they didn't bother him. He paid his dues, the men were loyal to him and his shift regularly put up the best unload numbers. Lee played the system to his advantage: If he needed to work he worked. If the port was swamped and he only had time to give them forty hours, then that’s all they got. No one dared question him and he knew it was primarily because of his physical stature that he was left alone. Today they got ten and when the afternoon whistle rang out over the container yard, he was walking through the gate with the rest of the men.

Normally his work week was consistent nearly down to the minute. He followed the same schedule religiously. Today was a little different. He twisted the throttle on his bike, picked up another gear and headed across the bay towards Mandarin Park.

Right after the lease on his boat and food, supplements for training were the largest expenditure of Lee’s earnings and not that long ago were not difficult to get in hand. However, mostly because of the public spectacle of the Olympics, everyone in the fitness industry and particularly bodybuilding knew the writing was on the wall and it would only be a matter of time before politics came after the drugs. If you wanted to be ahead of the game, you had to have a reliable source. Being intimately in the know for several years, Lee was one such person and he kept several avenues open for his needs. The one he was on his way to meet was one his preferred sources. Sure, the drugs weren’t illegal, yet, but this individual had already made the right moves in Lee’s mind, by moving his operation into as low key and undetectable methods as possible. He was positive the guy was dealing in a plethora of other substances, but that was neither here nor there as long as he got what he needed, the other customers could do whatever they had to do.

Friday would have been a preferable appointment, but that was the nature of the beast. He had always kept his stuff out of the hands of the US Postal Service, so when it came available, he picked it up. Today would be a leg day when he headed back over the bridge to the Steel Mill and that was always the shortest training day. The shift ended mid afternoon before the traffic so he could make up some of the time if he kept the throttle open.

As usual, the contact person was not the actual procurement agent. Lee knew some of these individuals liked to consider themselves “dealers” which he found amusing. However, they were more like runners to him. Someone else made the big deals, but there was still a needed separation to keep the supply chain secure and these people had to make a living as well. The agent himself often changed up the runner, which Lee thought was probably a smart move, it just happened that this one was supposed to be a young girl which was new. The exhaust popped and cracked as he nonchalantly eased into a parking space near a couple of vans, dropping the kickstand. He shut the engine down and glanced around, finding the girl sitting alone on a bench, just like the phone call had said.

“Discreet” was never a term used to describe Lee. His presence alone attracted attention, though the park wasn’t exactly crowded and he didn’t really care who was looking. Fresh out of the port, he was still wearing his navy blue union t-shirt Local 510 which looked absolutely painted on his upper body- the chapter’s heat-pressed image of a dock crane stretched from a multitude of uses, equally worn jeans, workboots and sunglasses. The aroma of gasoline, sweat, machinery and ocean water accompanied him as he sauntered up to the bench giving the dejected looking girl a once over before speaking: “Oi! My God it can’t be that bad,” He said with a chuckle. His accent wasn’t the least bit hampered by his move to the United States. “It’s a nice day, you’re at the park, try smilin' a little bit, you’ll feel better.”

@Eviledd1984

Gwendolyn Dexter Barrett

Location: Mandrian Park

Gwen watched a bodybuilder riding his bike towards the park, in the back of her mind she thought it was another meathead wanting to build up their body for vapid reasons. “Fuckin retard…” She muttered underneath her breath. Her eyes looking over to a mother playing with her son, biting her lower lip trying to hold back the anger she was feeling. Cursing her parents for not caring and loving her as a child. Her negative train of thought was disturbed by someone speaking to her. Her eyes turning to the bodybuilder from before, Her mouth turning into a sneer. She was thinking of something rude to say but decided against it. “I got your medicine, sorry it took so long.” Scooting over so the bodybuilder could sit beside her, she didn’t find him to be quite attractive. He was not really her type, she much preferred nerdy guys. Most of them however are quite put off by her attitude.

Of course, what she meant by medicine was the steroids that she had in a vial. If he knew that the code for the roids was medicine, then she knew that he was her buyer.

Mentioned: @Pilatus

Jackson "Jack" Maxwell Rodriquez

location = Chef's Drive-In

The rather well dressed woman was rather quick to wait at the table, barely having time to put the menu back before he had been approached by the rather extroverted woman. "Gracias señorita, my morning is better now thank you." Giving her a confident smile and a bit of charm, his father had disagreed on many things with Jackson but confidence and a little charm where never a bad thing.

"Black coffee, stack of pancakes with syrup please, I just escaped the Delta times labyrinth this morning and find self in need of your excellent Coffee." A little much yes however this was Delta City and little or lot much was order of the day and the norm. The city was lively, vibrant and plain crazy half the time but boring it was not.

Casting a glance over at the rest of the place, the blonde seemed to be serving, nothing of note beyond that and a normal day in Delta City. Then things where less normal, abnormal... No insanity berg had struck. Seemed the waitress and man had a past and a showdown. Certainly not a dull morning for sure!

A shout of Danny shook his thoughts, wait Danny.. Diamond hotels. He met him when they were putting out feelers, the man was calm, professional and respectful. Far better than some who were frankly like vultures on a carcass who probably left a trail of slime as they moved around.

Hopefully this drama did not impact his breakfast, then he heard some commotion and his breakfast was paid for, he never asked but who turned down a free breakfast? An idiot.

Getting up leaving his jacket to save a seat, he always had been confident and in good shape though he still could scrape a physical fitness test, pride had him wanting to regain old form and excel. After a year or more of different priorities, endurance was his strength not benching hundreds of pounds though. "Thankyou Danny, no hard feelings before, Business is Business after all and you paid for breakfast.

That Helicopter for breakfast run though, you'll be a local legend for weeks."

Offering to shake his hand, they had met before and things were definitely a little tough, professional, polite and respectful but he could drive a point home and had a good eye for business realities. A rival yes, an respectable one though.

There seemed to be some business going on and he waited for a gap not wanting to pry, things that "Did not exist" he was used to ignoring instead waiting for the right moment to intervene to thank him. Whatever the women had going on, or Danny and the waitress had going was their problems not his. "Good morning señorita's. Sorry for intruding, I'll leave you to this lovely morning."

A man was hungry. He just wanted breakfast but he could be polite too.

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@Pilatus
@Almalthia

Lee Stephens

Lee gave a smug grin at Gwen’s princess attitude as it occurred to him fairly quickly that maybe she was new at this or just wasn’t that good at it, maybe both as she sneered at her customer then begrudgingly moved over for him to sit before going back to her brooding. He didn’t take her up on the invitation, but instead swiftly plucked away the small plastic case containing his cycles. He planted one boot on the bench demonstrating that he wasn’t going to run, not that she could’ve stopped him, and merrily began inspecting the contents as he spoke. “Now with an attitude like that, you’re nevah gonna find a man.” He said, verifying everything, thumbing through neatly packaged pills and vials for direct injection. There was a bench press competition coming up at the Steel Mill and he wanted to remain undefeated, after that there would be an actual show that he would need to cut down for, so it would be a tough run until the start of the Fall. All the compounds looked to be in perfect order as usual and he closed the small box. The plastic tabs shut securely under his hands with an audible pop.

@Eviledd1984

Isabella Daphne Belle

location = Sushi Place (Team Sushi)

Isabella spotted Henry come in and was ordering with what seemed like a lot more confidence and speed than some of the customers she had watched. Sushi probably would be different to Massachusetts however she was interested and happy to try new things. The man had an ego the size of a room, his tea? He really was so stuck up he might be a flagpole.

"Doodles, it's a coding notebook. His reaction and gesture made her gold eyes narrow and infuriated her, it was a public restaurant not his private property. "I think I'll stay here. I got quite the liking for Sushi at MIT." Seeing Henry arive bring herself to full height being a fraction taller than the jerk before softening and waving over to join her sitting down.moving her bag and bits and pieces out way. Every college she went to was in a state or City by the coast so Sushi and seafood was an easy option to get. .

Least he was acting like a gentleman and determined not to let one jerk ruin her lunch, the waiter she hered make an.. Well yeah it probably did. She was a little more showy today and dressed up a bit. "Separate cheques please." She added confirming his not date answer, given limited time in Delta, dating had not been a major priority still trying to settle in.

Her train of thought was interrupted as someone called out about tips , bar mitzvah and such events, it certainly was a lively lunch vennue and a busy one. "Sit down before you dare to interrupt his light or some grievous slight I'm guilty of." lightning her mood abit, humour got you through many things. Unsure what to say, she barely Knew Henry and had offered an healthier lunch, but it seemed a start anyways. "Brunettes your type then." Joking at the assumption and implications, it got any awkward out the way early on or the ones who were stuck up.

Casting a glance round to see if food might be early. The photographer was still about. Maybe there was some event or big thing happening? Turning her gold eyes to Henry thankfully having escaped wearing glasses so far, one more thing to worry about."Well, if Professor jones told you as much as me. Il introduce properly. I went NYU undergrad , MIT masters, Dancer since i was a kid, Latins my favourite, but i can do most least pretty well bar ballet and tap we never got on. Also, i like sweet coffee, so i will end up borrowing from your undergrad lab." Isabella trying to break the ice. "I also am a little crazy moving here as I'm scared of gators..."

"Thankyou." Noticing a slightly rushed person brought over chopsticks and the other items needed so ready for food to arrive on various tables for popular lunch service.

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@aladdin_sane
@Conscripts
@LetMeDoStuff

Lee Stephens
&
Gwendolyn Dexter Barrett

Gwen looked over the bodybuilder as he took the plastic case, placing a boot on the bench. “Getting a boyfriend is not really on the top of my list.” Taking out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lighting up one of the cancer sticks. Taking a few deep puffs and blowing large smoke rings in front of her. “I’m gonna need payment for getting your meds.” Holding out her hand for the Aussie to hand her some cash. She really hoped this guy was not going to stiff her on the bill. If he did then she would have to get her boss involved, and that would not really be a good idea.

“Yea, I didn’t say boyfriend,” Lee replied, digging into his back pocket. His work jeans were well worn and the denim was stretched in the shape of white outline where his wallet resided. He had already banded together one group of bills and unceremoniously dropped the stack in her lap, “I said man.” The fact that she had mentioned being paid for “getting” his supplements seemed to confirm his suspicions that she wasn’t at the highest level of his contact’s pecking order- none of the others ever said anything like that, it was usually just chit-chat, sometimes even questions about diet or exercise, but people were funny. The sports-pharmaceutical business he gave them was essentially low-risk and easy profit, meaning the runners he met were generally more relaxed than this brooding girl.

Gwen took the wad of cash into her hand, quickly putting it into her jean pocket. “Potato, tomato.” She curtly responded making sure that the wad of cash was not going to fall out of her pocket. “Thanks, chief.” She took another drag of her cigarette, blowing what looked like guts of dark wind coming out of her mouth. There was a quite long bit of silence before Gwen spoke up. “You ever thought about wanting kids?” This question would seem out of the blue, but she was curious about what he thought about having children. Personally, she was not interested in raising a loud bratty child. She thought the world was getting too crowded, too many ungrateful people clogging up the streets. Even if she would have a child she would try to be a better parent than her own.

Lee was just about to write-off the conversation and walk away when the girl suddenly piped up again with a complete reversal in what appeared to be her standard demeanor, suddenly wanting to chat about reproduction after quickly dismissing the boyfriend talk. “Yeh, maybe one day, not right now though, got too much goin’ on,” He said with a modest shrug and tucking the case under one arm. It was a question he’d been asked before so the words were almost automatic, however he remembered seeing some children playing as he’d walked into the park and he was starting to piece together that his little drug runner had some daddy issues, or more, perhaps. Backchannel dealing in the pharmaceutical trades didn’t exactly attract the most savory of characters, though she was more presentable than some he’d seen. Nothing a little crude humor couldn’t solve: “Why? Ya thinkin’ about makin’ some babies, yeh?”

Looking up at the man watching him turning back around to responding to her question, “I was thinking about it myself, i might want a kid in the future. But i don’t know if i’ll be a good parent or not. Being a drug deal ain’t really a, “what do you want to be when you grow up kinda job”.Finishing off her cigarette and putting it out on the ground, throwing out the bud into a near by garbage can. A small smile appeared on her face hearing his crude joke, “Maybe, only if that person buys me a nice dinner first.” She looked over towards a mother playing with his son, imagining herself playing her son or daughter. She didn’t think she would be a very good mother. Or perhaps because of her upbringing, she would try to be a better parent then her own. Now she felt she was bothering her client with her philosophizing about having children, and how to raise them. “Sorry, i’ll be goin. Thanks for the cash, hope we can do this again sometime.” Standing up from the bench, sliding her hands deep into her pockets.

In his back pocket was a small notepad with a golfing pencil threaded through the binder which Lee used throughout the day to write down trailer and container numbers, ship names and any other plethora of notes. Before any sort of warning about mixing business and pleasure could flash through his brain, he smoothly produced it as if he were about to run shift change at the port. “How about I give you a call the next time I’m hungry for a nice dinnah?” He said, handing her a blank page with an assertive smirk. “And maybe we can do this again.”

Taking the pencil and piece of paper quickly writing down her house number, “I’d like that.” She said handing him back the paper with her number. Smiling once again before saying goodbye and heading off. Her next destination was going to meet her bandmates to practice for their gig tonight. Walking back towards her car, but not before looking back to peer over at the Aussie Bodybuilder. Giving him one last smile.

@Eviledd1984

Hello sports fans and Delta Dwellers tonight is an fantastic night for the ball game at Diamond Stadium. Skies are clear and the beers in the concession stand are the only thing cool on the coast tonight.

Delta City does not get better than this. Enjoy!

Gwendolyn Dexter Barrett

Location: Diamond Staduim

Gwen sat at one of the premium seats waiting for the game to begin. She found herself to be very lucky that she won these tickets, last night was not the best day for her, while her band was playing the last song they got into a huge fight with some drunkards. They were kicked out of the bar and told to pay for damages leaving them with no pay. She was close to smashing one of the drunkard’s heads in with her guitar, but luckily she was stopped by one of her bandmates. Although the only good thing that happened yesterday was getting that Aussie guy’s phone number.

Holding a bottle of beer in her hand watching as the game begin, “Come on don’t fuck this up, I got a lot of money riding on ya.” Yelling out before taking a sip of her beer. She usually wasn’t into baseball, she was more into other sports like basketball or football. However, she had a bit of gambling addiction and baseball games usually pay out very well. She wondered if that bodybuilder also won those tickets, part of her hoped that he would come just so she wouldn’t be alone.

Mention: @Pilatus

Isabella Daphne Belle

location = Baseball Stadium Golden ticket Box

Isabella was in a minor moment of panic having received a golden ticket for the baseball game. What you wore for a sports game was pretty easy but when in the top box with the VIP', it was a very different thing entirely. "You got a minute Natalie, you said you've been to a few fancy things and not so accepted ones too, can I borrow your brain for a second." ringing up someone she got to know for a second opinion and some ideas with a promise of cocktails another time.

Life had a certain sense of humour turning a simple trip to a local game and joining a few people to relax with a few drinks into a full blown event. Things had been pretty normal so far however life seemed to be picking up a bit more, maybe the city crazy was infectious and the longer you stayed the more Delta you became.

Dressing casually but with little effort to look nice as a baseball game but good seats in a pleated short white skirt, a slightly faded but very comfortable old NYU T shirt with strappy black 2 inch chunky heeled sandals that wrapped partly up her lower legs. Aviator sunglasses and a light pale blue jacket with white patterns in ones and zeros along the back. Isabella had a nice new dress however the whole event would be too much for the game. The outfit showed rather a bit of leg but for one she might get some tan and help keep cool in the hellish humidity. Still casual and comfortable, the skirt was a bit of a step up from denim shorts, not too far but it seemed a better choice for a golden ticket.

Bright chunky jewellery completed it and even by luck in home team colors with a matching hair in bag tie if things got windy later on. A mirror twirl later to check things were all in place Isabella was ready to go.

Getting a cab over after reading another chapter in her book, making an AI that could think not only in one probabilities but a serris required some brushing up on maths and formulas for the calculations. They would have to be more complicated due to the number of interrelated parts. "Diamond stadium… gate 4 please. South gate i think?" directing the cab driver who just nodded as the sound of local radio went on about a spate of suspicious fires and wild claims of everything from Diamond Hotels to an experimental Soviet laser satellite.

Past few days had been normal for most part working on things, reading up, general life stuff. Nothing too dramatic then Isabella received a golden ticket, she had planned to go to a game with a few people she met but life threw different things her way.

……

Exiting the rather purple cab outside the bay marked with a huge 4 and various signage. The place was pretty well laid out and easy to get about. It was about as obvious as her very purple cab that she caught to the stadium.

Thankfully for Isabella the staff lead her where she needed to be reaching the upper levels where soon was drinking a cocktail as who chose free soft drinks over cocktails? "Excuse me, Just slipping by. Everything is comped if you do not know. Not double D full specials, but good. Nice for a treat mind.

Miss anything major?" slipping by and sitting down while the music was playing lightly tapping her heels to the rhythm of music in the box. Another woman was already haven taken a seat, blonde short haired woman slightly shorter and swearing at the players. Normal baseball? Pretty much baseball. Beer? The whole range was open, so might as well make most of it. Diamond drinks prices were usually not on the cheap side. Curious if Isabella missed any drama.

Margarita check. Everything was better with Margarita's and sunshine. Double D had a great cocktail bar, abit expensive for a grad student to drink regularly at.

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@Eviledd1984

Jackson "Jack" Maxwell Rodriquez

locationBaseball Stadium Golden ticket Box

"Right. So everyone knows their jobs, go out and do it. Any questions?" Jackson looked around the large table where the staff meeting was gathered overlooking the beach front, getting no questions left alone as they filed out leaving him alone. Resting his head on the cool glass top it was a vanity but impressive nonetheless for guests, the glass covered worn aluminium wingtip of an B29 Superfortress bomber with a huge faded air force symbol painted on its centre and hollow structure exposed at the end of circular cut out metal bulkheads. The old table was his father's, new era, new table.

The rest of the day was business as usual, signing cheques for suppliers and collecting, a job interview and some strange woman complaining that her sea view room was being kept awake by the waves. After that a baseball game was a relief.

Jackson headed up to change into something more suitable than business wear in jeans, polished brown boots and an off white t-shirt with wire frame graphic of a F4 phantom. It was cool and comfortable given the Delta City heat. Finding his wallet, cash and a pair of sunglasses. Job done, it would stay warm so no jacket plus the golden ticket so sunburn would not be a problem and he hardly had a physique to be ashamed of and he had long got used to the cold anyway after years of guard duty, winters in Japan and Europe could be unforgiving.

Glancing over at options, he discarded the shirt idea and was not cold enough to need a jacket being summer, though deciding to swap the rubber and plastic digital watch for a nicer mechanical one having been collecting a delivery earlier in day as a regular driver was off ill.
"Please can you arrange a Cab to Diamond Stadium please in 10 minutes." Ringing down to the reception desk life had its oddities but living in a hotel had its perks. Once he got a place more steady he could consider it but the place needed too much of his time and attention right now with a close hand to the wheel to keep things on track. He had attended the old stadium many times before but not the new one so much so the whole trip would be interesting. "Si señor Rodriquez" Came Maria's warm tone, even after a year it was strange to be called so and be here in charge.

…

Delta City Traffic was busy but to be a cab driver in Delta City was to be creative in the face of anything from a closed bridge, rogue gator or a city street falling into a sinkhole. Isabella and Jackaon soon found their way across town to the bustling and gleaming glass-clad Diamond City Stadium.

Stepping out, the old place was in some ways remembered others entirely different and new, the building gleamed in glass and steel, state of art technology and features. "Il head up in a few minutes , want to find my old spot." Taking directions to the level he needed to be and walked out into the blinding light across and emerald green pitch laid out below ice cold beer in hand.

Not much more American. Least for base ball fans.

...

Several minutes later he found the spot roughly near the soda bar, life was simple as a kid for sure.

Heading on up flashing his ticket and entering the lounge was a new experience, he never had been in the nice seats at a baseball game so it was going to be a new and fun experience. Far from first a pair of blonde women already noticing the bright flash of the tall platinum blonde in sunlight first then the other nearby. "Diamond double Deluxe , with extra salad please." While it was a childish fun, the whole idea of ordering the fancy premium burger, well you only got this chance very rarely get a full golden ticket normally. While he was hardly poor to say, he was not also so liquidly wealthy free to spend completely without thought or consideration in day to day life.

Sitting down leaning back to test the seat finding them rather comfortable, it was certainly a good experience so far. "Hello ladies, Glad i'm not too early. Now I see why people pay so much for the seats up here." The view was pretty good, comfortable seats and comped. Its pretty nice to have the ability to enjoy the bonus perks in life.

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@Eviledd1984

Before the game…

The Corsair Club lounge was every bit as posh as the brochure claimed. Impeccably cleaned and positioned over the third baseline and under the retracted awning, just so perfectly in the design of the stadium upgrades that the breezes from the ocean seemed to flow right over it in an invisible cascade of harmonious agreement among nature and architectural thermodynamics. It was still hot, humid even, but it came in a way that the club members didn’t seem to mind, almost like it wasn’t even noticeable, natural even. It was hot and humid in the Maldives as well, but it was the Maldives and this was Diamond Stadium. Rumor in Knight Enterprises was that Marcus had paid more than a handsome sum to an obscure, reclusive French architect to design it and consequently squabbled over the final placement. Marcus wanted the guests to be able to experience a foul ball, not forgetting they were attending a baseball game- they could happily take their social conventions to the Island Diamond or the Double-D. The architect found this ludicrous and the compromise tucked the whole affair happily closer to home on the baseline.

The seating carried a motif similar to that of the rooftop Island Diamond, however slightly adjusted in neon light for the team colors. It was imagery Sena had seen a thousand times as she watched the early Corsair-faithful filing into the general admission seating below: Families, couples, kids running freely with sticks of cotton candy and baseball gloves. It was total Americana. The teams warmed up as last minute touches were made to the starkly emerald outfield and painstakingly manicured infield. Ever since Marcus had taken over, all the games carried a certain “party” atmosphere. Sena quietly noticed every-single-song played over the speakers as she watched someone carefully polishing the helicopter still sitting in left field where they landed. Everything from Buffett to WAM echoed over the speakers suiting an upbeat taste for everyone. It was maddening.

“You are gonna have a good time tonight.” Karina’s voice was suddenly right behind her. She handed Sena a colorful frozen drink with an equally over-the-top garnish of pineapples, kiwi, mango and other tropical fruits.

“Huh?”

“You’re in a funk,” She continued, plopping down next to her in one of the large lounge cushions. “There needs to be less rebellion and more romance I think.” She said, biting away a pineapple chunk and smirking.

“Is this a serious conversation right now?” Sena cocked an eyebrow.

Karina shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ you’ll feel a lot better if you loosen up some, I know we have an image and all, but you don’t have to let it, like…” She thought for a moment, maybe the conversation was a little too serious for the setting, but since that day at the diner, she had felt like maybe she needed to say something. Aside from that, she had already had a few samplings from the bar. “Like, you know, be the band, don’t let it be you.” She said finally feeling very pleased with how philosophical the words came out.

“Maybe I can do both.” Sena replied, starting into her drink with a shrug. Karina was a naturally pleasant personality and it was impossible not to allow her to force even a tiny smile.

A raucous entry onto the club level brought about a distraction from the conversation, though both Sena and Karina knew the dominant voice of the Sweeper who hurriedly followed Levi as he sauntered up to the bar and downed a pair of shots as if the older man wasn’t even there. “Soup” already had his guitar slung over one shoulder and wore his regular performance attire of black slacks, business loafers with a loose fitting white business shirt with equally disheveled, slender tie.

“Look Levi, just try to be more relaxed out there. It’s the national anthem for God’s sake. Look like you’re feeling it some.”

“I am relaxed. I play better when I stand still.” Levi said plainly. This was a regular debate among them. There was no doubt about talent, it was strictly a matter of presentation. Levi was near stone-like on stage and were it not for a startling ability on the strings, the spectacle would have potentially crested the point of comedy. It drove Danny completely insane. “Do you want better music or do you want theatrics, Danny?”

“Both.” The Sweeper replied instantly with the confident smile that had sealed hotel deals worldwide.

Levi rolled his eyes indignantly and proceeded towards the stairs before a rude jeer stopped him in his tracks.

“He’s gonna choke!”

The sisters cackled wildly at the glare returned to them by their lead guitarist. The club wait staff and other members seemed slightly perplexed by the interaction, but the veterans accustomed to the band’s eccentricities carried on unabated. This was only the beginning. Sena cupped her hands and booed loudly as Levi rolled his eyes and walked away shaking his head.

Game start…

Flashbulbs erupted as Levi stepped out onto the field along with the mayor and a flanking local media crew while the loudspeaker blared the announcement across the stadium to prepare for the national anthem. None of it affected him in the least. He didn’t even smile as his name was called out and people stood and removed their hats while his stoic image was broadcast up over the brand-new jumbotron. He had the look of a man about to perform surgery rather than play an instrument, though to him the seriousness was much the same. The ambient bustle of the crowd was silenced as he charged one hand over the strings of his unusually blue-camouflaged BCR Mockingbird and let loose.

Combined Post

A quiet beer and overly fancy branded fast food was interrupted by the arrival of a few more lively guests. Granted baseball he had turned up pretty not sober before, as long as you did not cause trouble no one really cared too hard. He did not even remember getting home from that particular baseball game just waking up with the abilities of a zombie. Never try to out drink a bunch of Germans whose smallest was 6'4 and built like a tank on steroids.

Hearing a voice and seeing a man as he looked over shoulder, Danny, he definitely recognized the man and that probably meant the band or some other hotel event. If you saw him he was in a place for a reason. He had a reputation and that reputation usually was accurate. The women who came in, well he had a clue who they might be. Though it was bad form to bother people just because they may be famous.

"Please stand for the national Anthem of the United States of America" Came over the speakers as the US flag was walked out held by the honour guard marching across to centre of field. The quiet fell before the first sound of the anthem began to play on guitar? Well that was new. Falling into a crisp Salute, years of practice made it muscle memory and no real thought required.

Thankyou for your service hoping no one wanted to, that line still felt odd a few times he heard it when his entire time for most part the closest he came to an enemy was seeing a map of a country they meant to be in. That or arresting drunks and the disorderly.

Their final chords soon rang out across the stadium and finally he relaxed, that certainly was a new one. Looking over he realized he was out of beer too, that had to be remedied as he got up and walked through the seating to the bar.

"ice cold beer please?, got anything Italian?" glancing round as the tall Platinum blonde from seating came up behind with a click of heels.

"That was my order, whatever the ladies have, it looks fun and fruity." Noticing the fruity drink the two women had, complete with fruit slices. The two women close to the bar certainly knew what to drink. "Sorry, they just looked delicious." Giving them a polite smile. "not mind that... " Jokingly commenting to herself on a zoom into a particularly tight uniform that really showed benefits of a healthy lifestyle.

Tapping her foot to music in habit, before turning on the spot without pausing leaning forward on her front foot as she balanced on heels, the only part of ballet she picked up on, very good balance yes, Ballet hated her. Catching the action as something was replayed across the massive jumbotrons to a rising wave of noise. This was awesome being up here, you could be near seats, bar, food and more all without taking eyes off the game.

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