Watching the man down his best whiskey in a single gulp, Roach gave a defeated chuckle, thinking of Alexandra Briarwood . Why did everyone do that?

“Yer welcome Everett.” He nodded at the younger man with a good-natured smile. Not a word.

He hung there for a moment, thinking of something and then giving two pats on the top of the piano and taking the glass back to the bar.

“Don’t go tellin’ all your musician buddies we’re hirin’ now, y’hear? You start bringin’ in strays, I’mma have t’ cutchya loose.” He waggled a finger at him from a distance while the other hand poured out the ice into a hidden sunk.

playable npcs /


LONNIE BOOKER
^{TWENTY-THREE * HE/HIM * GAY * CITIZEN * BARTENDER}

xxxxxxGood-looking and effeminate. Sarcastic. Petty as hell if you don’t tip well. Not a new hire, but not a senior employee either—the purgatory shows. Occasionally fucks off. Always talking about this week's newest boyfriend he's dropping. Dips into the low-shelf booze. Will absolutely take a shot with you when Roach isn’t looking.

Drinks whatever.

SLATE MILHAUS
^{FORTY-TWO * HE/HIM * ACE * TEAM ROCKET * BARTENDER}

xxxxxxRitual’s senior bartender, remaining from previous ownership, and longtime friend of Roach. Currently the only member of staff who is aware of his black-market dealings. Not necessarily a partner in crime, but close. Stoney, intimidating, quiet. The only person who Roach doesn’t seem to ever fuck with. Neither does anyone else.

Drinks one kind of dry gin you haven't heard of.

KENDRA FRYE
^{TWENTY-SEVEN * SHE/HER * FUCK OFF * UNI STUDENT * BARTENDER}

xxxxxxA wealth of random knowledge. Currently working on a master's degree in chemical engineering at the University of Slateport. Witty as hell. Talented at her job, but nods too much, and it’s abundantly clear when she’s not listening to you. This is part of her charm. Will sneak a shot if you can convince her, but will definitely charge you for it. Takes no shit.

Drinks unnecessarily artisanal vodkas.

pc staff /

His whiskery mouth curled. He supposed maybe most people that visited his bar didn’t like piano music, but this wasn’t about them, really. Everyone could fuck themselves.

Liquor stung smooth down his throat.

“Guess so.” he echoed lazily. Having gotten what he had to say about it out in one bubble, he fell quiet, a fingernail scraping the side of his glass lightly. “What’s yer night look like?” Just small talk, really. Nothing suggestive, but of course, Roach always wore that sort of questionable face.

Roach hissed through his teeth as her in amusement. “What? Don’ like music, Lex?”

He leaned over on the bar, both hands cupping his glass from his resting forearms as he looked out towards the corner, imagining the placement. “I know it sounds sappy as shit, but my mama used t’ play. Some kid ( @everett ) came in ‘n asked if he could play ‘ere. Told ‘im no, and he sold me on it anyhow.” He gave a snort, shaking his head at himself. “Weird shit.”

“Anyways, I found a good deal on one. ‘Stead of havin’ ‘im haul his all the way ‘ere, I just said fuck it.” He looked over at her, raising his brows. “See how it goes. Guess you might not like jazz, huh?”

“Yer a got-dang liar, woman.” He rebuked.

He then pulled a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips, craning his chin at her when she tapped him on the chest. “No doubt.” She really was better than most. Cuter too.

At her response about the smoking, he nodded in approval. “Good girl.” Silently judging himself and his own wrinkles.

“Yeah, totally.” The bartender grabbed her glass and set it on the dishwasher before going to grab a fresh one. “You want the same thing, orr…?” He eyed her, knowing it would be free if she did.

“Just give it t‘er, Lonnie, it’s fine.”

The other man turned and rolled his eyes before grabbing the bottle off the tall shelf, pouring two fingers and sliding it to her. “On the house.” He was a moody man. A bit petty, even. Jealous maybe?

Roach left out the door for five, coming back in with the smell of tobacco lingering on him. He then went to pour himself another drink, leaning over the bar again at her. “You believe I bought a goddamn piano fer this place?”

“Hm.” He responded simply with a chuckle. He liked messing with her just as much as he liked feeding her ego. The smile was returned, pinched at one corner.

The butt of his cue stick sat gently, lazily on the ground. He rotated it just so, back and forth in calloused fingers, watching as she leaned in for the next couple of shots. “Doin’ pretty good there, Lex.” He wasn’t fucking with her this time. “I’m gettin’ another table in here soon. Gonna have a tournament t’ celebrate.” He went to take his next shots. “Ya should give it a shot, maybe.”

It had been a close game, but the eight-ball dropped in the pocket on his first try, and the game was won. “Well. Thoughtchya were gonna get me, but,” he gave a sound from his chest that sounded like steam, “I’m too good.” He flashed a grin.

He went to put up the cue stick and grab his whiskey. “You smoke?”

“I’ll be damned.” He shook his head, watching her. “’I try’. My ass.”

Then she hit the third ball in, and he was practically on the edge of his seat. Oh yes, he did love a woman who could play pool. His eyes watched her body as it leaned over the table, and her eyes as it assessed angles, drawing invisible shapes over the felt as she tested her options. She missed on the fourth, but he hadn’t been looking at the ball at that point.

Pushing off from his lean against the ledge, his eyes cut at her with teasing words that didn’t leave his lips at her last remark. After letting the thought of hot sex pass between them silently, he angled his cue stick at her and clicked his tongue. “Careful now. Tryin’ta hustle a hustler, woman.” His teasing gaze cut at her with charmingly crooked teeth.

He went to take his shots, taking more time to set them up than the last, but still not much. This was a casual game, and unlike her, Roach had his form down-pat. He sunk the 15, and then the 11 close to it with a sharp stop short of the corner pocket. Then, down the long rail, the cue ball sailed a small angle to knock in the 9-ball. It rebounded some, setting him up for his next attempt. It failed, but left the cue ball still effectively blocking her from her best shot.

He backed away from the table again, this time not going back to grab his drink, but rather staying squared off towards their game. Engaged. His chin tilted to the side at her. “Whatcha gon’ do now, pool sharpedo?”

Summer sunlight poured through the window, and Betty Roach’s slender old fingers sliced through it. They glided with ease over ebony and ivory, carrying a soft tune up the carpeted stairs of a run-down two-story home in Nimbasa, Unova.

Every note was a soul that wrapped itself around him in comfort, coaxed back into reality. Awake. A young Virgil had loved his mother. He’d never complained when her playing woke him in the mornings. He’d never told her that he laid there, either, for sometimes up to an hour, just listening quietly.

The was a shatter of glass, and then the sound of a piano leg groaning across the floor some. “La-LARRY, WHAT THE FUCK, YOU DRUNK FUCKIN’ PRICK!”

♠

Roach hadn’t responded to him, having already slipped into whisps of childhood memory by the time the piano was tuned. His hands seemed to work of their own accord as he poured the man his nicest, moderately-proofed whiskey over a single large ice cube. He still said nothing as he walked it over.

Silently, he placed a coaster on the top of the piano within his reach, and then glass, and then stepped back, crossing his arms and watching over Everett’s shoulder as the younger man's  skilled fingers danced. He was utterly captivated.

His whiskey-aged face twisted in a shit-eating grin. His voice was gravelly as he dismissed her threat, “Yeah, yeah.”

Nutbrown eyes watched her, careful not to critique any mistakes he saw. Roach had worked in a bar long enough to know not to assume someone wanted you to ‘show them the ropes.’ He’d had enough strong women beat the sense into him over the years. Well, at least, when it came to the small shit.

Her break was better than half of those he typically saw. Beneath her were those that were too shy. She had the force down, but not the alignment. Read into that how you will.

“Damn better’n most.” he assessed, praising her break with a nod of approval. No worries that she hadn’t made any balls in. That was a crapshoot for him as well. “Maybe I should be scared, huh?” He teased.

He proceeded with his first shot, pocketing the blue 10-ball into the middle pocket, leaning low and eyeing down the cue for only a moment before it dropped with ease. Perfectly set up for another shot, he next took out the orange 13. He paused for a moment, clicking his tongue as he then realized he’d already screwed himself. One of her balls was right in the way.

Roach decided to steal the age-old excuse. “Ah, I’m just warmin’ up.” He winked up at her and shot the ball at an angle across the table to barely clip another ball to fill his turn, and then returned to his whiskey, eager to see how she fared. He loved a woman who could play pool.







ROACH'S ODDS:
95% first ball in (1-95)
75% second ball in (1-75)
50% third ball in (1-50)
25% fourth ball in (1-25)
10% fifth ball in (1-10)
5% sixth ball in (1-5)
2% seventh ball in (1-2)
1% eight ball in (1)
^{96-99 is scratch, 100 is loss on any shot}

Remiel Calcifet FERNANDO SILPH angelo vestri Alexandra Briarwood oscar clayton hendrix emmerson


[break][break][break]SIGN-UPS ARE STILL OPEN! THIS IS JUST AN UPDATE!

She walked past him, and without her attention to catch it, he allowed his gaze to pass down the curves of her figure appreciatively. His thoughts derailed for a moment, vulgar.

After a few moments of enjoying the view, he pushed off the bar and out of his seat and followed her over. A rough hand reached out for a cube of chalk and he swiped it across the tip of a nineteen before leaning into a cut-out of the ledge and reaching for the triangle off a hook. Placing it on the table, he then crouched down and fished with his hand in the back of the table, soon pulling a mechanism which dropped the balls without the need for quarters. “Call me Virgil again, I’mma hafta t' tell that asshole over there'a cutchew off.” He joked at her.

The balls were placed on the table three at a time, and then in the triangle by according to typical rules. He rolled them forward a few inches, squeezing the tips of his fingers into the shape to tighten it before bringing it back to the dot.

“Your break, then, doll.’” He lifted the triangle off and replaced it on the hook beneath the edge of the table, grabbed his cue stick in one hand and his glass in the other, taking a sip.




BEGINNER BREAK ODDS:

1-15 — scratch
16-20 — eight ball / lose
21-75 — no balls in
76-85 — one ball in
86-90 — two balls in
91-96 — three balls in
97-99 — four balls in
100 — five balls in


* IF YOU ROLL 76-100:
edit your post and roll for each ball you’ve made. 1-50 determines the ball is solid, 51-100 rolls stripes. you may determine the ball’s number if you wish for flavor, otherwise, it may be left up to your opponent. this won't affect the game.

* IF YOU SCRATCH:
include in your edited notes how this occurs. the cue ball either doesn't reach the others, or it sinks in a pocket. both have the same result.

[attr="class","omgentop"]

[attr="class","omgenmid"]

SPICE OF LIFE

ROLL-BASED

PVP

PRIZES

SETTING: MID/LATE FEBRUARY

[break][break][break][break]



[break][break]

A dimly lit bar in lower Slateport, on the rougher side of town. Inside, there is an old lounge sort of atmosphere. There are several tables surrounded by leather seats. Elegant overhead lights glow over three green-felted, full-size billiards tables. There is a baby grand piano in the back corner, which is played a few nights throughout the week. For all other occasions, there is a jukebox. Abuse at your own risk. [break][break]

This place does not serve food. It does, however, have a surprisingly extensive selection of both liquor and cigars. While you can smoke them inside, cigarettes are not permitted. [break][break]

The crowd tends to be a bit seedy, but the staff is friendly and especially protective of their regulars. Currently, staff consists of @everett , Arashi Akiyama , and Xander Belmont , and a few freely playable NPCs.

GUIDELINES

THERE WILL BE THREE TIERS: Beginner, Intermediate, and Expert. Your likelihood of success throughout the game, as well as the probable amount of turns, will be determined by your character’s skill level.[break][break]

This will be a ROLL-BASED tournament. An in-depth guide on how that will work will follow over the next few days.[break][break]
Bar rules. Don’t cite me.[break][break]
This is a spice of life event.[break][break]
There will be PRIZES, including pokemon and items. [break][break]
This is DEATH-ENABLED.[break][break]
Not really. Just kidding.[break][break]
If it goes well, this may become bi-monthly.
[break][break][break]


Stay tuned, sharpedos.

SIGN UP

TO SIGN UP, please use the following code and post in this thread before FEBRUARY 20TH, 12AM PST.[break][break]

Please ensure your character is 18+. I will allow passable fake IDs as long as things don't get ridiculous.[break][break]

Remember, there are three skill tiers: Beginner, Intermediate, and Expert. However, if your character is absolutely god awful, feel free to scale back their odds for flavor. I am still working out mechanics of whether or not this will be a feature.[break][break]

Bear in mind that rounds will each likely last 1-2 weeks with a very minimal word-length expectation, but a failure to post will result in your forfeit of the tournament.[break][break][break]

[break][break]

[break][break]

[break][break]

INCLUDE TWO LINKS to threads where your character is participating in ILLEGAL ACTIVITY, or just being an unsavory, dishonest scoundrel, and then ROLL to determine if they will receive the HUSTLER ability. 1-50 is failure, 51-100 is success.[break][break]

The HUSTLER ability gives you the option of adding +10 to two shots (rolls) during each round!

This ability does not have to be played ic, and can just be applied to your roll ooc if you wish![break][break]

[break][break]

Sign-ups do not currently have a cap. Let's see how this goes.[break][break][break]

[blockquote]
[b]character tag:[/b] @tag[break]
[b]skill level:[/b] [break]
[b]two posts in the last month: (can be threads for hustler ability but are required either way)[/b][break]
[b]notes:[/b]
[b]roll for hustler:[/b] if applicable
[/blockquote][break][break]

[break][break]

Roach raised both his eyebrows as he watched the man inspect the piano, going so far as to take a whiff of it. Little did Everett know, Roach knew nothing of any musical craft, instrument, or woodworking even for that matter. It had been pure luck that it achieved the musician’s satisfaction.

His face wrinkled suddenly at the unpleasant sound. Goddamn, was it broken? Eyes watched him go to work from afar with curiosity, but not enough to approach and actually supervise. “Well. Glad I don’ have t’ buy anything else.”

A snorted out of his nose and waved down the offer. “Aaow, you don’ gotta do all that, I got bartenders.” Not enough. He shot the younger man a crooked but infamously charming smile. “We don’ really do tricks around here, anyways.”

He pushed off the bar and began to walk around it. “But, you wan’ come in a couple nights a week, I’ll pay ya for it. I don’ work people for free. Gotta fill out papers 'n' all that sheit.” He participated in too much illegal activity as it was to screw people over in that way, too. “Want some’m’uh drink?”