Doctor Llamabean
*winks at Markus*
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DETAILS
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_____________________________________________Location_____________________________________________
(West District)
[Red West Bar]
At a table toward the back left
____________________________________________Interacting____________________________________________
Brielle Rousseau Cracker , Matsuda Russo Caffeine_Obsessed
_____________________________________________Wearing_____________________________________________
Loose White Tank-top; Grey Shorts; Red Nike Sneakers; Lots of Bling
[Reference] [Sneakers] [Cap]
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They slip between his lips on a smile, however, and Boltius' features soften with amusement. “How dare. You even question whether we’d join your dumbass," Matsuda says.
Boltius laughs--loudly so--and he pours himself a third glass of rum as Matsuda empties his own in a daring gulp.
"Fuckin' right, daaaaawg!!" he cheers.
“Let’s get those sons of bitches while their pants are down!” Matsuda barks.
Boltius pauses mid-sip on his own glass, inwardly scratching his head at the comment. This wouldn't be the first time his friend has said such wacky things however, so he simply pushes it to the back of his mind and smiles, draining the rum with barely a wrinkle of his nose at its biting spice.
"So, what we do?" Brielle asks all of the sudden, pointing to herself and Matsuda.
"If word spreads abo't you ta'geting a Tiger, it might draw bad blood between us--more than the' already is."
Boltius lets her finish, refilling his glass.
"Like I say, if de Se'pents are trying to make us fight each other to eliminate en'mies, you'll only help dem. They are sneaky, true?... But ei'zer way, we have no othe' options. Truth comes one way or anotheer." The girl smiles then. "So les' make de fun of it..."
And Boltius chuckles. "No, I get what you're sayin', chick, but you're also ruling out the possibility of the Tigers being behind it all. I mean, think about it- fuckin' Serpents ain't got shit to lose, so what difference would it make to keep anonymous? And if I've learned anything over the years, it's that the Tigers are just as--if not more--conniving and sneaky than anyone else."
"As for the plan, I'm thinking there's three of us... three districts... one to each--you, me, and Ticco. Either that or we squad camp the fuckin' alleys until a stray cat comes along, if you know what I mean. If we get it done in one day, though, then we're giving no time for word to get around, which is good, so we'll cover more ground to split up."
"Only one rule," Boltius' eyes glint as his brows draw together, "Don't get yourself killed. Now," he raises his fourth glass of rum, baring his teeth in a wily grin, "Let's party."
[...] SOME TIME LATER [...]
The bar buzzes with the exhilaration of drunk patrons drowning themselves in seemingly endless intoxicants. Music bounces from the speakers mounted on the walls, reverberating through the ceiling and into the low-hung light fixtures.
Most noticeably, a rambunctious crowd has gathered around the main counter.
"GO! GO! GO!" They all shout, some pumping their fists in the air, others raising their beers or whiskey glasses, or whatever other beverage one might be sporting. Brielle and Matsuda, in spite of the Ace's usual anxieties, stand nearest to the counter in the very center of the gathering, where Boltius Beckman has been rid of his shirt and is laid out with his hands behind his head and one knee up. A fourth of a lime is pinned between his teeth on a smile, some juice trickling down the side of his face as he trembles with laughter.
Harriet is standing behind the counter on which the Revenant Jack lies, holding in her two hands a grinder of sea salt, which she's generously sprinkling over Boltius' neck, chest, and abs whilst laughing just the same, if not more.
"Hallelujah, baby, look at dat washboard~!" she cracks before trickling her fingers down his toned ribs. This causes him to jolt up and gasp, but Harriet pushes him back down onto the counter by his shoulder, "Nuh-uh-uh~, big boy. You always sayin' you gone do dis an' you neva do."
"I'dunit dedor!" Boltius mumbles out--an incoherent and panicked response when he sees Harriet going in for another round to tickle him. Thankfully, a feign is all it is, then she sprinkles another layer of salt over his body. He wonders how much more until it's no longer called for, and he wonders who'll be the one to partake.
Briefly glancing over the crowd, he hopes it's Brielle.
"Awright, awright! Lessee who gon' lick'im," Harriet's voice is loud. Everyone quiets down to watch as she clicks a button on her phone-screen and a list of names, one at a time, cycle by on a black background. It does this for about three seconds before the name Matsu-Man is singled out in bold white, and everyone looks at Matsuda--including Boltius with wide eyes--then they all burst into loud hollers and laughter and cheer.
Harriett clutches her chest, "Oh mah gah~ This a dream come true. Matsu-Man, you gots ta do it. You gots ta. Make mamma proud."
Boltius closes his eyes, laughing hard.
"You just lick the salt, take the shot-" she grabs a shot glass and fills it with tequila, "Then suck the lime, baby." Handing it to him, hardly heard over the other patrons, her thick lips curl into a smile, "You up to the challenge, or I gotta have one o' these other men do it fo' ya?"