Log: Playing the Game of Masks
|Reunions at Babylon|
|Wyck plays the game of Masks with Vico at Babylon|
|IC Date||July 19, 2014|
The night is just getting kicked off as numerous college kids and others roam the area drinking and dancing to the hearts content. Off at the end of the bar stands a guy who tends to stick out a bit due to his dress attire and that is Vico. The well dressed italin gentlemen has a cigarette resting in one hand while the other one clings to a small wine glass and he simply eyes the place over with a scrutinizing gaze.
Wyck is late for his shift, or so it would seem by the ease that he slides past the door without paying the cover and ducks behind the bar for a moment. In a flurry of activity he stripps off his shirt, kicks off his shoes and shucks off his jeans and wads them all up in a ball to stuff them into his satchel. He's... naked? It's hard to tell with him behind the bar. Ron, the lead bartender, doesn't seem all that happy with him but doesn't seem to make too much of a fuss over him stripping. Once he grabs the tray of plastic vials and walks out from behind it's obvious; he's a shot-boy. Dressed in a pair of NEON blue underwear that are way too tight to be comfortable but tight enough to show off everything he has, he begins sauntering here and there and from table to table to sell his wares.
Vico shifts his gaze towards the shot boy, and simply raises a brow before shaking his head slowly. The glass of wine is set on the bar counter and the cigarette is brought to his lips for a long drag before he lifts his head up and blows the grey haze into the club atmosphere.
The life of a shot-boy can't be all that enjoyable; walking around in your underwear...barefoot and selling shots of alcohol to people who either want to stuff their hand down your crotch with some ham-fisted, weak tip or smack your butt when you walk by. It's a paycheck, at least. Shot-Boys and the Waitresses here, apparently, work only on tips. They get either no extra money or very little so a lot of the staff have to 'work it' to 'earn it'. Wyck, however, is oddly in a good mood for one whose life involves such fermented prostitution. With a smile on his face and a spring in his step he wanders from table to table and from booth to booth selling whatever they will buy.
Once Wyck passes back by the bar Vico casually raises his free hand to wave the shot boy over, a slight grin resting on his lips, "What is it and how much does it cost?" He asks obviously referring to the the vials Wyck is carrying.
"The Yellow is lemon-flavored Vodka, Orange is mango-infused Rum, the Red is cinamon schnapps and the blue is...fruity." Wyck explains, flubbing up the last of the four types of drinks he carries in his small, vial-laiden tray. "And they're a dollar a shot...but tipping is encouraged." He's made the rounds and there seems to be about two left of everything. He was probably on his way back to the bar to get refilled when he was waived over. "In town for business?" he asks politely - regarding the man's attire.
Vico chuckles a touch, and nods his head slowly, "Business is always a go...." He then casts a gaze over towards a group of barely 21 college girls hovered around near the bar. There is five in all. "...and pleasure hopefully." He says as the grin widens on his lips and pulls out his wallet, "Take five shots to those ladies over there compliments of me." The wallet is procured and a twenty is pulled out as he looks the man over again, "You'll pardon me but I'm not tucking this. I'll let ya do what you want with the rest though." He says with a soft laugh as he hands over the bill.
Wyck raises an eyebrow and takes no time snatching the bill out of the man's hand. Nope. He nods to the business man and walks over to offer the 'gift' to the gaggle of college co-eds. A whoop and a holler of laughter and triumph sound as they each take one and hold it up to Vico in salute and up-end the vials. Each one is replaced and one leans in to whisper something to the shot-boy. His eyes bloom to life and she stuffs something into his underwear and he shrugs a bit as though agreeing with the request. "Hey," he calls to Vico as he approaches the bar and sets his rack to be refilled. "Uh," he begins and drops his voice to a whisper, "one of the girls just tossed what I think is a fifty into my underwear if I would come over here and kiss you on the cheek. Can you pretend I just did?" As he was speaking, the shot-boy closes in to hide where his face is from the gaggle's view.
Vico grins for a moment, and nods his head slowly. He turns his head towards the women and raises his wine glass up in the air towards them before leaning his head down towards the man, "Just don't make it sloppy." He says in a hush toned as he nears the mans face, "Can't deny you making and honest fifty bucks now can I?
Wyck smiles and leans in to offer the man a peck on the cheek. It's nothing more than that - but it's enough and it's exactly what the one girl had paid for. Turning and giving them a 'triumphant' thumbs-up, he smiles and makes a mock cheer before turning back, clapping Vico on the shoulder for being such a good sport and turns his attention to Ron, the bartender, who is filling his vials. "Thanks man," he half-whispers to the well-dressed patron. "I would like to eat this week."
Vico nods his head slowly as he pulls his head back, "Tips not so great around this place?" He asks with a raised brow as he looks around once again, "Well it is a college crowd I suppose." He says with the shake of his head, "Perhaps management just needs to put some things in place to help open up the peoples pockets."
Wyck shrugs and does his best not to look like he's aggreeing with Vico - at least while Ron is right in front of him. "It's not too bad. You can set your own hours - so long as you don't mind taking your clothes off. You work when you want to work so long as you don't mind its only at night. Tips are ok - depending on the night. It's better when they do the shows and stuff, but that's been a while." Pausing for a moment, Wyck double-taps the bar to get Ron's attention and excuses himself to run to the restroom real fast while his shots are getting restacked. "Be right back bud... gotta go check my tips."
Vico looks around the place now once more as Wyck goes to the restroom he seems to be in a state of thoughht about what the young man had said to him. While he is thinking he finishes one more drag from his cigarette and then puts it out in a nearby ash trey. The glass of wine is picked back up but still remains untouched.
Wyck returns from the bathroom and is once again smiling to himself. It must have been a -very- good tip. "Wine not your thing?" he asks curiously and waits for his rack - which Ron has yet to refill. One of the ways the bar crew can mess with the shot-folk is to just 'take their time' when refilling their trays. For as long as they don't have anything to sell, there's no tips coming their way. So they can, conceptually, keep them locked up and poor for a while. This may be the case as Ron has obviously seen Wyck standing by the bar but has just found other things to occupy his time. Ahh, passive aggressive behavior.
Vico shakes his head slowly, "Oh just taking it easy tonight. Got a meeting early tomorrow morning looking for some new properties to acquire since my family lost our old bar while I was away in Vegas." He motions around the bar, and comments, "The hav ea great venue for attracting quality acts. Not sure why they do not throw more events. Could be a wickedly delightful place."
Wyck nods, "I know they used to but one of the guys who ran it skipped town. Apparently he was made an 'officially unwelcomed guest' by the owners. Which is about as harsh as they get around here. It's weird." Tapping on the counter he calls out to the bartender to get his attention, "Hey Ron...need my shots..." A frustrated grumble escapes his lips but at least he can turn to his right and talk to the man - while standing in his underwear. At least the guy's not weird about it. "You might want to talk to Lilly, then. She's in charge of all of the entertainment. Frank does the bar staff and such."
Vico nods his head once more, and hrms ever so lightly, "Curious as to what he did to get ran out of this town. Seems pretty tough to do." He says, and a grin spreads across his lips once more, "Well, I myself don't focus on entertainment. I'm more of an owner type. I hire people to manage that sort of stuff. But, I doubt this place is even for sale."
Wyck shakes his head, "He probably broke the only real 'rule' that I've ever heard here, and that's to leave your drama at the door." Wyck starts to fidget and gets the attention of Tony, another of the bar staff to fill his shot tray so he can get back to work. Reluctantly the guy ducks away from Ron and comes to help the guy out. "You owe me," he mutters across the bar Wyck just drops his head to grown a bit less silently again. "Nah," he begins and turns his lowered head towards Vico, " I'm not even really sure who owns it. No one really is. We just know the managers."
Vico raises a hand and fingers wafts into the air, "That is just bad business to bring your affairs into the workplace. Probably best they got rid of him." He says with a grin once more, and then pauses in thought, "Well, luckily I am very good at procurring information. So, perhaps I will look into it and see if the owner is willing to part ways with this place since the Teatro is completely off the table for me to rebuy at this juncture in time."
Vico chuckles softly, "I use to run security for the former owner. But, yes I know the new owner as well. It is an interesting place and certainly is not for everyone. We catered to a specific crowd." He notes with a large grin on his all to young of a face. "But, I do not know how things are ran now. Like I said things went to shit after I went back to Vegas to take care of my uncle's casino while he was away."
Wyck nods, "What a thing to come back to. The place you work at was sold and your new in town. You don't exactly look like the type to get your hands dirty so I'm guessing that you're all about meetings and mergers and stuff, right?" Tony finally gets the shot-boy his drinks and Wyck holds up a finger to pause Vico's response while he runs off to hit a few tables. "Hold that thought," he asks and is away. One, two, three tables, a booth where he was...taking a seat on a nice gentleman's lap for a while and then he's back to the bar for refills once more. This time, however, he has a crotch stuffed with bills. "Ok...back."
Vico watches the man for a moment as he parts off, but his attention once again turns towards the five college girls who are getting drunker and drunker well on their way to getting 'White girl waisted' so to speak by their antics. Once Wyck returns he flashes him a quick grin, "I get my hands dirty if I need to but fortunately that doesn't happen to much. Business is a dog eat dog sort of world. You can't rollover and you can't give up because of a few setbacks like losing a job. I'll have things back to full operation in no time."
It would seem that the gaggle of co-eds are being 'encouraged' by more than just Vico. Another man, seated off in one of the booths, has sent them a few more shots. They haven't exactly wandered over to say thank you but they're definitely enjoying his good will. Wyck catches Vico's interest, the girls, and then the man who is encouraging them. "Uh oh," he mutters, "If you were wanting any of that I'd move in quick. Mister Money over there must be out hunting and he -never- goes home alone." With a wry grin and a deviously conspiratorial glance he tries to play off the comment, "You know what that's like, right?" as though it were the most common of expressions ever.
Vico begins to laugh ever so lightly, and shakes a finger at Wyck, "Neither do I. I'm just letting him front the bill for myself. He's such a kind man to offer such good will for his fellow man." He then rolls his shoulders in a light shrug, "And there is five of them. So, the odds are good that one won't be taken. Even the ugliest one in the batch is still a seven on most scales."
Wyck smiles and non-challantly adds, "The one with the 'A' necklace is the girl who paid me to kiss you," he indicates with a quick flash of his chin in her direction. "And if little miss prissy-pants doesn't make it home...I don't think anyone's going to care." After such a dismissive statement, the shot-boy locks eyes with Vico for a moment as if to convey 'yeah...I just said that and have no problems with it at all' in but a glance. "You know...if you're looking for something...'else'... he glances to the glass of untouched wine, "...and you like a little December in July..." the allusion to Ice, the blue-crystaline narcotic, might be missed in the conversation but Wyck is at least trying to 'help'.
Vico furrows his brows for a moment, and smiles just a touch, "Every night is like Christmas for me." He says, relatively unphased of the man hinting that he knows exactly what he is, "I prefer the snobby ones anyways. Makes the conquest all the more enjoyable." He says with a light laugh, "I don't believe I ever caught your name?"
Wyck smiles and has to wait for Ron to leave the bar so that Tony can, once again, sneak around and fill up his shot tray. "Yeah yeah," he laments to the secondary tender, "I owe ya...just find me after work." And then turning to Vico he offers his hand to the man, "Call me Wyck...just like the burning part of the Candle." Turning back to look at the group of girls, two of which have peeled off from the herd and have approached their 'encouraging' benefactor. Miss Ashley remains with the other two who remained. "Yeah ... I love breaking down a banker or a lawyer. It's so much sweeter when you see their regret -afterwards." Ooh, there's a hint of a darkside in the boy. Who knew?
Vico reaches out and grasps Wyck's hand with his own pale and ice cold hand give it a firm business like shake, "Vico Giovanni." He says with just the ever so slight italian accent. It's likely he was probably born in the states. "A pleasure to meet you, Wyck." He then turns his head towards Ashley, flashing her a quick and smooth smile before he goes back to talking to Wyck, "I enjoy seeing all emotions in some form or another, but regret is one of the more satisifying ones to see."
Wyck accepts the tray from Tony and when he turns to head back onto the floor finds that its still being held. Frowning a bit in confusion, Wyck finally offers, "My pants are in my bag. Just help yourself but don't take too much at once or you'll Grinch," he offers. The guy just shakes his head when drugs are offered and Wyck is caught off guard. "Oh!" He exclaims in an audible tone, "...well, then after my shift or on my break." He doesn't seem bent out of shape at all by the rather public exchange of 'goods' for services and finally turns back to Vico once the shots are released. "I'm heading in her direction. Want me to say something for ya?"
Vico waves his hand slowly at Wyck, and doesn't seem to mind the exchange of goods between him and the other guy, "Nah, not it is a game like a cat with a piece of yarn. You got to show just enough interest to let her know that you are into her, but make it seem like her company is only optional and not needed. They want what they cannot have. It is in their nature." He says with a slight grin, "Plus, I'm not ready to go home yet."
Wyck nods, "Not a problem," he smiles and heads off to do another circut around the club. This time he vanishes behind one of the curtains that obscure nearly all view from the booth. Inside for a few minutes, he exits with a larger bulge in his shorts that would either make him a two-pronged mutant or now carrying a rather hefy roll of bills next to his business. And again he returns after a while to the bar, slides the tray up to have it refilled and this time asks, "Hey, can you pass me my satchel?" to one of the Bar Boys whose name hasn't been mentioned in the conversations as of yet. With a quick pass, and Wyck needing to dig into his shorts to pull out the cash he tries to figure out which way to face. He can't really face out into the crowd because he'd be giving away, for free, what he's trying to sell. Can't turn left as there's even more people. So he sort of turns to the right, towards Vico and points to the wall behind the man and asks, "Hey, what's that?" as though he were trying to get him to look away for a second.
Vico grins slightly, and suddenly a cell phone can be heard just barely over the music going off. He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a phone, "I need to take this call anyways. I'll be back in a bit." He says, moving away from the bar and heading to any area where there is an absence of the pounding music.
The shot-boy has earned himself a wad of cash, litterally a wad. Ones, fives, tens and a few twenties are stuffed in an egg-shaped ball to one side of his shorts and there's a roll of twenties - so thick that it could almost be mistaken for a testicle. Smoothing out the crumpled bills to roll them around the others, he then sticks the whole thing into a bag into his satchel. Odd that he would trust the bar staff with his earnings. Shouldn't there be a locker or something? Now that he's got a moment he tells Ron, "I'm taking this to the back and going on a break," and heads down along the bar and pauses just long enough to get the attention of Tony and then continues on his way. The other bartender slips out from the bar and follows him. The two do not return for at least twenty minutes.