It didn’t take much to make Zilla thirst for a drink, but something about the salty seaside air in Mossdeep City intensified that desire. It put her in some kind of mood. Liquor was easy enough to come by, but it was the hospitality—or lackthereof—of a seedy underground bar that called out to her. There was an unexplainable appeal to shady establishments hidden away in dark corners of big cities that proved to be more rewarding than the fine dining establishments found illuminated by street light.

[break][break]Perhaps it was due in part to the patrons, who were easy targets for pickpocketing and conning. Or perhaps Zilla felt a strange kinship with the questionable folks who frequented such places. Regardless of the reason, she found herself drawn in.

[break][break] So it stood to reason that she’d eventually find herself at the Anchor Shot Tavern, a weather-worn pub that seemed to pride itself on its coastal origins. Though the Wingull perched upon the signpost likely wasn’t an intentional decoration choice by the bar owners, it did help tie the warped wood, rusted iron, and dangling fish nets together into a cohesive—albeit, stereotypical—sailor theme.

[break][break]The noise was the first thing Zilla noticed upon entering, for it was much louder than most discreet taverns she’d visited before. Most were somber little places where customers were too paranoid, private, or drunk to laugh and joke with one another. The atmosphere of this place was not unwelcome, but it did come as a bit of a surprise nevertheless. The second thing the Rocket grunt noticed was the bar, which she sidled up to before ordering a drink.

[break][break]While waiting, she took another look around the room. Most of the noise seemed to be coming from a pool table where four men took turns taking shots. It was unclear whether they were two teams of two, with one shooting stripped and the other shooting solid colors, or if they were just trying to net as many balls as possible per person. Some folks idled nearby, watching the table with anticipation and occasionally hollering both praises and insults at the players. Most of the crowd had drinks in their hands, though not all of them appeared to be drunk yet.

[break][break]Another, smaller crowd could be seen by the opposite wall. Two people were seated on either side of a circular table, and it appeared as though they were playing a game of cards. Once Zilla received her beer, she stepped over to the table to get a better look where she discovered that her suspicion was correct: they were playing cards. She watched on for roughly five minutes, quietly sipping her drink while carefully analyzing both men’s play styles.

[break][break]Eventually, one of the players left the table with his winnings, leaving the brunette-haired man by himself. Zilla took this opportunity to jump in. She grabbed the back of the empty chair and slammed her bottle down on the table to announce her presence. ”You down to play another round,” she asked, ”Or are you chicken?” A grin crept across her face as a few of the nearby patrons chuckled and said something about being beaten by “a girl.”

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+ angelo vestri in Putting on a Front

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Despite the sexist jeering from onlookers, Zilla was eager to prove herself at the card table. Whether her opponent saw her as some helpless woman who was unfamiliar with competition or some shadow in the night come to rob him of all his money didn’t matter as much as his willingness to play. Fortunately for her, he did seem interested in the challenge. Then again, maybe he was just trying to look good for the crowd. If he was a local, it’d stand to reason that he’d feel the need to maintain a favorable reputation.

[break][break]Though his words and demeanor were coarse, the blue-eyed man did prove to have some manners, for he invited Zilla to sit by holding out a chair for her. Okay, so perhaps it was more of a gentle kick that caused the chair to slide out from under the table than him actually holding it out, but it was the thought that counted more than the gesture itself. ”How gentlemanly. I guess chivalry isn’t dead,” she chimed while taking a seat across from the gambler.

[break][break]When asked what game they should play, Zilla eyed the cards and gave a small, indecisive shrug. ”Straight Poker, Redeye, Tauros Takedown,” she suggested, letting her voice trail off as she grabbed her beer and lifted it to her lips. ”Or maybe we should do something easier, considering you lost to that last guy,” she teased, ”Pidgey’s Pick? Old Maid? Maybe some Go Fish?” With a wink and a grin, she tossed back her head and took a swig of her drink.

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+ angelo vestri

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Right off the bat, Zilla knew she'd like this guy. He was witty, sarcastic, and competitive, but he wasn't overly pompous or rude in the way he spoke to his challengers. Perhaps her insight about him being a gentleman wasn't so satirical after all. He had a foreign demeanor about him — different from the other ruffians she met at seedy bars. Was it the city? This particular tavern? Or was there something about the man himself?

[break][break]Zilla cocked an eyebrow inquisitively but chuckled nonetheless at his jokes. He had a good sense of humor. And a cute smile. "I don't know whether I should be flattered or offended by the implication," the grunt laughed when the stranger pointed out that she likely wouldn't play fair. He was right, of course, but she wouldn't admit it aloud.

[break][break]Dark eyes trailed down the length of the man's torso, down his arms, and to his hands that held a dark brown drink to his lips. No ring. No tan line of one either. It was safe to assume he wasn't married and was open game as far as flirting was concerned. "Rummy sounds fine by me," Zilla purred, shooting a toothy grin at the idea of sharing a drink.

[break][break]She leaned back in her chair, threw a hand up in the air, and hollered, "Barkeep! A bottle of rum for the table over here!" There was a pause, however brief, as she considered whether or not to say what ultimately came next, "You can put it on Mister Blackjack's tab!" She lowered her hand upon hearing the bartender's shouts of confirmation and chuckled again. "You never did tell me your name," she probed with a coy smile.

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+ angelo vestri

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Zilla instantly noticed the stranger's shift in attention from her eyes to her lips as she shot him a confident smile. Her expression did not waver, though she took the opportunity to sneak a glimpse at his lips as well -- flirting even without speaking any words aloud. He was cute. Not exactly a "pretty boy," but certainly handsome with some attractive features. Her eyes lingered a moment longer before returning once again to his striking blue gaze.

[break][break]"Matteo," the grunt repeated, solidifying the name to memory. "A pleasure, Teo. You can call me Rosa." Had they been in her home town of Mauville, she likely wouldn't have bothered with aliases. But because she was in Mossdeep for Rocket business and 'Zilla' was supposedly on the other side of the region, using a fake name seemed like the safest choice. It wasn't the betting she was wary of. It wasn't even the other bar patrons. It was the simple fact that she was secretly a member of Team Rocket.

[break][break]Generally speaking, the owner of the deck dealt the cards, so that had been what she was expecting. Much to her surprise, Teo wanted to leave that role up to fate. By drawing cards, it was a good way to randomly assign a dealer. "Low card deals," Zilla called as she pulled one from the top of the stack. She studied it a moment before flipping it over to reveal a two of clubs. "Looks like that's me," she chuckled, "Be a dear and pour me a glass, why don't you?"

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tYMEH6Lm

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+ angelo vestri
[break]Sorry about that wait. I was on vacation, but I'm back now!

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If she was at work, Zilla would have made a point to shuffle the deck as she had been trained to do: three fingers on one side, index finger on top, thumb below the suit on the opposite side, spread the cards in a semi-circle on the table to prove that all the cards were in the deck at the start of the game. But she wasn't at the Mauville Casino. She was in a run-down sailor pub with a man who didn't even have the decency to pour her a drink.

[break][break]The indigo-haired woman sucked air through her teeth and scowled at the man across the table. The nearby patrons joked with each other, and although their words were difficult to make out, it was clear they were laughing at the fact that he was asserting some kind of dominance over the table by his cold gesture—or lack thereof. "And here I thought you were a gentleman," Zilla sneered.

[break][break]She wasn't really upset over the drink or the fact that she had lost the draw. Her bitterness came from the fact that she thought the two were flirting and he wasn't playing along... Or maybe he was. Playing hard to get, maybe? That was usually her role, but Zilla was willing to try turning the tables. "Such a naughty boy," she purred, almost in a whisper so the others couldn't hear. That was for him and him alone.

[break][break]Zilla finished shuffling and began dealing ten cards to each player; as she did, Matteo asked if she was a local. "Not a local," she said, "Just a girl who knows her way around." Though the man seemed to be as harmless as a Skitty—which is to say, more bark than bite—the dealer couldn't help but be suspicious of strangers. She was wary of giving out details of her personal life, for good reason.

[break][break]"And you? A local? Or just looking for a good time?" She placed the rest of the deck face-down in the center of the table before grabbing the top card and turning it up beside the stock pile. Once the game was set, Zilla poured herself a glass of rum and studied Matteo's face for any change in expression or any tells she could use to her benefit in future games.

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+ angelo vestri

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