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 Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 2:04 pm
Jonesy held his own, enjoyable sort of court before the door that led into the club proper; set in a prominent place was Me'Shell, complete with snazzy glittered up name tag and warning paper attached to the basket's chin.
For the moment the table was empty -- but not for long enough. He scooted through the door with a grin as soon as anyone approached, setting his drink (it looked like milk) down on the table behind Me'Shell.
"Hey there. Mind if I take your coat?" He was already pulling a ticket from the big roll of them, and scrawling out the time in a messy, scrawling hand.
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Posted: Sat Jan 30, 2010 9:12 pm
God, it was freezing outside.
As Charlotte Thatcher stepped through the door to Doors Nightclub, she exhaled a sigh of relief. Finally! She had reached her destination and would finally be able to warm up. The twenty minute walk from her dorm room to the club may have been a bit much, but in the end it would probably be worth it, the girl thought. This was a nightclub, after all, so she'd be in for some fun for sure. And if not, she could always leave, brave the cold again, and go back to her dorm.
From first glance of the coatboy, however, it didn't look like she'd be leaving anytime soon.
Thatch didn't even notice at first. When asked if he could take her coat, she just nodded absentmindedly and slipped it off without so much as a second thought. "Sure," she murmured, handing it to him and smoothing out her outfit just in case. The college student's coat was a long, black pea coat, which had seemed to become quite popular amongst students like her. Nothing too extra ordinary. Just a coat with gloves in the pockets.
It was only after her coat was off that she finally glanced at him. This guy...he-..he had spots. Blinking, Thatched rubbed her eyes for a moment and then shook her head. She couldn't be seeing things, could she? No, she had to be. Guys just didn't have spots on them. He had to have some sort of...skin condition. Yeah -- that was it! A skin condition. Poor guy; he must have it rough.
"Uhh, thanks, by the way. I appreciate it."
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 9:17 am
Pity. A plain black pea-coat didn't do her much good, in Jonesy's opinion, but he ripped the ticket and pinned it gently to the lapel, and went to hang it up before handing her her half of the ticket. "Here ya go."
But then he noticed what she was doing; rubbing her eyes, shaking her head -- oh no, doors mighta got her. "Hey, you okay?" Anxiety had a way of looking a little mischievous on Jonesy whether he liked it or not, but the concern seemed genuine.
"C'mere, take a seat. It's pretty crazy, I know." He pulled out one of the folding chairs for her. If he had a skin condition he seemed remarkably blase about it; despite the arm warmers, his hands were bare when he offered one to her, and his fingers were also as oddly colored as the rest of him.
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Posted: Mon Feb 01, 2010 11:52 am
"I-..I'll be okay," Thatch murmured, although she took his hand all the same.
With her ticket in hand, she slipped into her pocket before sitting down in the chair that Jonesy had offered her. His appearance...so it was real. She wasn't just seeing things. At first, Thatch thought it was just her head playing games. Or it was just people dressed up in some crazy new fad. The bouncer outside could have been an example of that. People dressed in costumes all of the time for things like conventions and what not.
But this...this wasn't like a convention at all. It was real.
How --..how does one even answer or comment to that without being offensive? Once in the chair, the college student brought up a hand to her head and sighed as if she had a slight headache. Maybe...maybe she shouldn't have come, after all? She was probably better off staying in her room, despite her roommate's desperate pleas to get her to go out. Oh, well. She couldn't exactly turn around now; she had just gotten there.
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Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2010 8:14 am
Of course, as he's wanting to make sure the new girl was okay, people come up. But Jonesy dealt with their coats rapidly, not even investigating the pockets, and then, once they're hung up, drops to blink at her. "I know you said you were gonna be okay, but you really don't look that great. You want me to get you something to drink?"
Like that, his face was close enough to touch, and the exact delineation between one color of his face and the other was much easier to see. It wasn't makeup. No way.
"Owen's kinda scary if you're new, but I can nab something for you?" Jonesy kind of liked Owen, so long as Owen was behind the bar and Jonesy wasn't.
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