2025-01-09 - Yo ho, yo ho

Bootlegger's is a guest favorite, with all its atmosphere, the immersive decor, the live shows and of course the costumed staff. Wenches in ruffled blouses, waiters with flowing sleeves and exaggerated accents. Even the bartender is wearing an eyepatch. Then? There's Louise. While there's a lively round of What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor being sung by staff all around (and guests, of course, they're encouraged to join in), she is standing literally up on the bar wearing a standard issue Spellbound jumpsuit, dealing with one of the overhead lights designed to look like candles. It's supposed to flicker. It's just not supposed to flicker like this.

The bartender tugs her pant leg, trying to beckon her into the song, and she swats at him with familiarity that serves as a firm refusal. "This is my last job, just let me finish."

Not that she would sing, either way.

Wenches in ruffled blouses? Sign Scarlett up.

The redheaded singer is in Bootlegger's tonight, dressed more low-key than her visit to the Beach Club in a long-sleeved maroon blouse unbuttoned low enough to show a peek of a lacy bra, tucked into fitted velvety black slacks and boots. That curly, vibrantly red hair of hers is down, spilling past her shoulders, and her makeup is sharp and bold, with dark eye shadow and lipstick complementing the colors of her outfit.

Coming over to the bar for a drink, it's impossible to miss Louise standing up there. Scarlett quickly recognizes her and comes closer, grinning and humming along to the song as she sinks into a seat just underneath Louise.

"Fancy seeing you here," she calls up to Louise, still grinning. "Do you just always go where the party goes?"

There's something being done with wire snips, one of the candles dangling -- some bits twisted together and screwed back on, and it's right around when Scarlett is slipping into her seat that Louise is flapping a hand at the barkeep to try and get him to flip the switch to test it out. "Damn pirates," she mutters, because it's not easy getting their attention in the midst of revelry, and how many maintenance workers have to deal with things like this?

Then she's being spoken too, and it's a twist first one way, then the other to find Scarlett -- even without the fame to go with, the woman is memorable with all that red, and Lou's eyebrows go up. "Oh." Then it occurs she's standing right directly in Scarlett's way, and after an awkward moment of uncertainty, she sits. A little sidestep, and she plants herself right there on the bar, legs swinging over the side, to wait for the barkeep to finish his song and help her finish her task. "What can I say, can't resist a good shindig. Wore my best party clothes and everything," she says with a shrug, a gesture for the purple fabric that makes up her jumpsuit. Then, a more narrow look. "Did you make the cowboy cry?" Poor Charlie.

Seeing Louise twist the wrong way at first earns a soft, genuine laugh from Scarlett - it sounds good-natured. She watches then as the handywoman lowers herself down and plops onto the bar, bestowing a winning smile on her. "You do look good! Even in the, uh, jumpsuit. It actually works for you," the redhead says, once again sounding genuine.

When those eyes are narrowed at her, though...

Scarlett pauses, eyes widening. "Hold on. Charlie didn't cry afterward, right?" She sounds legitimately concerned, eyebrows knitting together. "I didn't -- I just thought he was gonna be an asshole at first. Have had some bad experiences with security dudes historically."

The concern written in those eyebrows gets Louise shaking her head quickly, waving a hand to perish the thought. “Hyperbole. Charlie, huh? Never did catch his name.” The justification gets it due consideration, her lips pursed, and apparently it’s found fair. To a point. “Well, you know what they say about judging a book by its somber austere cover,” she says. “But I guess that makes sense, y’know. For reasons.” You know. The whole being famous of it all.

She leans back, propped on her hands, as the music finally dies down with raucous laughter, to call “Bill,” all impatience. Laughing, the eye patched barkeep finally goes for the bank of switches to test it out — and look at that, it works just fine and Lou gives a clap and slips down off the bar to a proper seat. “Finally.”

“So are you running with a pseudonym?” She asks, while Bill slips a drink her way — she’s around often enough that he knows — and she will take her well deserved break. “You sure aren’t trying to blend.” Scarlett’s whole vibe tends to stand out.

Some of the tension from Scarlett's posture fades when Louise explains the hyperbole, earning a nod from the redhead. "I mean - I get very fuckin' tired of gettin' judged for my cover, so it's pretty hypocritical for me to do the same. I try not to, but sometimes I react too quickly," she explains, frowning. "Hope he's okay."

She glances up to watch the demonstration of the working light, laughing softly when it goes smoothly. "Well done. Is fixing stuff around here your job, then?" Scarlett asks, ordering a vodka tonic for herself from Bill before turning to Louise, who sits near her at the bar, now.

"Blending into the background is never my thing. I'm tryin' to go by Lee, my middle name, when I'm in places like this where I might get recognized. You already know my actual name, plus you're cute, too, so you can call me whatever you want." The redhead winks at Louise, pulling her drink closer when it arrives and taking a sip.

Louise makes a low noise of consideration - maybe even commiseration, because God knows her mouth gets away from her too. The acknowledgement of hypocrisy goes a fair way to forgiving it, and the whole thing is quickly shrugged off. "Expect he's got a thick skin, doing what he does," she allows, teetering on the edge of reassuring, which is a fair turn from what she was expecting. "Yep, I fix things."

"Sometimes," Bill chimes in, gruffly jovial from down the bar while he's making Scarlett's drink.

"A little gratitude, Bill, I could break that light again just as easy," she throws back archly.

The appellation of cute gets something akin to a double take, a quick blink at Scarlett, and Lou's skeptical gaze drops - again - to the jumpsuit, then flicks back up with a snort. "Well, I hate to disappoint," she says, seeing as apparently the 'fit is a hit, "But I'm off duty so..." It's a matter of a zipper, a shrug, and oh look at that...faded charcoal t-shirt underneath with some band or another on it. She ties the arms of the jumpsuit around her waist. "Technically I guess I oughta wait 'til I've turned my tablet and tools back in, but..." But she has a drink right in front of her right now, so. Priorities.

She props her elbows on the bar, contentedly uncouth, takes a sip off the straw in her drink, and watches Scarlett sidelong. She's still making up her mind about her. "What brought you to Spellbound, Lee?" she asks. It's a gesture in and of itself, like 'okay, I'll keep your cover going'. "Seems pretty...peopley, if you're looking for incognito."

Seeing Louise evidently move on from the issue of how Scarlett treated Charlie finishes off the last of the tension that the redheaded singer had been holding onto.

She watches curiously, then, as Louise unzips her jumpsuit, raising a finely-shaped red eyebrow. "No, darlin' - I never complain about pretty girls undressin'. Take off anything you like; I can guarantee I won't be disappointed." Scarlett laughs softly, taking another sip of her drink.

Sip, siiiiip. Scarlett doesn't seem to have any issue with Louise looking sidelong at her, even seeming to bask in the attention a bit. When that question comes, it earns a little chuckle from the singer, her lips quirking up at the corners. "That's a good point, Miss Louise. Not sure if you know anything about my, uh, career -- but things have been a bit chaotic lately and I needed to get out and get a break." She puts one hand up. "But not too much of a break - I don't do that well with isolation. There aren't many papparazzi hanging around Spellbound, so I can stay here for a little while and figure things out, find inspiration for music, et cetera."

Her hazy gray eyes, which had gone distant for a moment, sharpen again and refocus, meeting Louise's gaze. "And you? What's your story, hon'? Where are you from, and what brought you here?"

Louise doesn't respond exactly, while she's tying the jumpsuit sleeves around her middle, but there is that look again, a little doubletake at the singer, and the way she's dressed -- and then down at her comfy plain white T. Might be she's not accustomed to that kind of attention, there's pink in her cheeks, but she carries on heroically.

"Unless the tabloids nailed it that you disappeared from public eye because you're having Elvis's baby, I don't know much," Lou answers, resting her face against her hand as she watches Scarlett talk, and her face has gone thoughtful. She's a fixer, sure, our Louise, but that comes from something else entirely, the wanting to understand -- and people are no exception. She makes a soft sound of understanding before Scarlett focuses in on her again. That the question gets turned back on her makes her wrinkle her nose, though not with any real displeasure. "Well. I think a lot of people end up here trying to find themselves-" And there's a pointed look at the redhead. "-or lose themselves. And I'm... not really sure which I am, maybe both. Kinda figured it'd be a temporary gig, stay with my sister here awhile and ignore everything else but..."

As though on cue, there's another song starting up. A group of fully garbed waitstaff standing at one end of the room, arms slung around each others shoulders, one of the men holding a pint glass to gesture with emphatically while they launch into another sea shanty, this one called Jolly Roger, and Louise rolls her eyes at their shenanigans - but with a little quirk at the corner of her mouth that threatens to be a smile. "But I kind of like it here," she finishes. "So I guess that's just it."

That response earns a genuine, surprised laugh from Scarlett, her eyes bright. "Fuck - that was supposed to stay under wraps. Once the bump becomes more obvious, can you help me keep the father anonymous?"

The redhead watches curiously as Louise answers the question in turn, her genuine response earning a surprised grunt and a lift of her glass before she sips it. "I'm with you there. Definitely a bit of both for me as well, though I've been doing a lot more of the losing myself but so far." She glances meaningfully at her drink and sips it again.

Her attention is grabbed by the singing staff, bringing out an amused laugh and smile before she turns back to Louise. "You sure you don't want to join? I can see in your heart that you do," Scarlett teases, grinning. "I kind of like it here, too. Even if the weather is shitty right now. That's why I'm staying at the resort - at least I can hide out in the hot tub on my balcony and lounge at the pool still."

There’s something about laughter that tends to bridge gaps, and hearing Scarlett’s gets an answering smile from Louise, quick but genuine, and she leans in to answer conspiratorial. “We’ll blame it on the lizard people,” she says, sagely. “They’ll eat it right up.”

The thing about being a talk first think later kinda girl is that genuine comes naturally — and the nice thing about it (there are plenty of things that aren’t) is how often it gets you the same in return. Lou listens in turn, and when Scar casts that pointed look at the drink, Louise slides hers over to clink them together, before she lifts her glass to take a sip. To getting lost, or something like that. “There are worse things,” she concludes.

Like, for example? The suggestion that she should join in the singing, which earns her improbable drinking buddy a look of such distaste, nose wrinkled and everything. “There aren’t enough drinks in this bar.” It’s emphatic. The mention of the weather gets a groan of absolute agreement. “I’m from California; I miss the sun,” she says dryly. “The resort is definitely the hideout to get if you can swing it. Mostly I just end up there if something break.”

She’s silent for a moment, sipping at her beverage and watching as the pirate crew starts entreating patrons to join in - on the chorus, some in dance, then she casts a speculative look at Scarlett. “You could.” Join in, that is. Not her, that’s a no go. “Looking for inspiration? Next album, all nautical themed. Go full shanty, no one will see it coming.”

"Damn. I bet you have a lovely singing voice, though!" Scarlett protests, smiling and actually sounding genuine. As for the weather? She grimaces. "I'm from Georgia - I should have guessed you were a West Coast girl. I miss the sun, too - though I don't miss the summers."

Her hazy gray eyes dance with amusement. "If you ever want to get in and relax at the resort, just let me know. I'll get you in, darlin'."

Louise's proposal for Scarlett to join the revelers earns another bright laugh from the redhead, curls bouncing as she laughs. "Oh, trust me: I'm tempted. I would certainly enjoy it." She glances over at them, snorting and shaking her head before glancing back at Louise. "But I know if I do, some bozo will recognize me, take a video and put it on the internet. Not an amazing look for me, especially when I'm supposed to be lying low and getting myself in order."

She pauses and glances down at her drink. "A bit more booze in me, though... Then I'd join."

The look Scarlett gets, at the mere suggestion that Louise has a decent singing voice. Such skepticism. “Do you want your eardrums to bleed?” It would take more than a little more to drink to get her to join in. The rest though - from the commiseration over the lack of sun, to the offer of an in at the resort, gets her to crack a smile. Just a little, quirk of the mouth, and she slips her glass across the bar to clink against Scarlett’s. “You’re all right, Lee.” First impressions notwithstanding.

At the suggestion that Scarlett would end up video taped, Lou’s brow furrows slightly and she pulls her phone out of her pocket, gives it a little wiggle. “Well yeah, that’s my plan. Sell it to the highest bidder.” It’s her, she’s the bozo. She says it deadpan, but there’s a spark of humor in her eyes - of course she wouldn’t really. Although, she does snort at Scarlett’s assertion that it would just take more booze, and she tips her head as though to call the bartender back over. “Hey, Bill?”

Not that she’s enabling or anything.

Teasing aside, Lou doesn’t seem inclined to partake of anything more, though, tipping her drink up for a last sip before pushing her glass aside. She doesn’t quite move to get up yet, watching the singing sailors at their merriment. “You really just need a costume, you know. Throw on an eyepatch and a kerchief over that hair, you’d blend right in.” A pause. “I bet you have enough fans amongst the staff that they’d love helping you fly under the radar.” Just a thought.

That deadpan tease from Louise gets a snicker from Scarlett, who grins over at her. "Okay, I'd let you do that. If you ever want to make some money, just let me know and I'll let you be the TMZ camerawoman on my next drunken rampage. It'll be fun!"

There's another laugh from the redhead when Louise calls the bartender back over, who Scarlett gratefully orders another drink from. "Look at you, Lou!" she laughs. "You clearly want me up there badly. Just want to hear me sing? Or do you just want me drunk and making bad decisions? I get real flirty when I drink too much."

She nods to Bill when her new drink comes and sips it, glancing back over at Louise. "You know... that isn't a bad idea. Maybe I could pretend to work here more often?"

Louise actually laughs, on a breath and a duck of her head. “Deal. When I get fed up with flickering lights and grinding gears, I’ll hit you up. It’s time, Lee.” Good to have a retirement plan, right? As for trying to get Scar up there to sing, and the warning of flirtation that’s bound to follow, Louise snorts her amusement. “Sounds like it’ll be their lucky day,” she says the bosomy barmaids and the strapping buccaneers, who are wrapping up the current song with laughter and cheers all around. “I just tend to run off curiosity, I wanna see if you’ll actually do it.”

But, going along with the idea of slipping in amongst the cast, Lou nods, leaning against the bar. “Here,” she says, and expands. “And you could go get spooky on the Booedwalk, croon some tunes at the Spookeasy. Bet there are a bunch of places around the park you could blend in and stand out at the same time. Anyone calls the likeness, you can say you’re an homage…to yourself.” She thinks it’s funny, anyways. “I won’t rat you out. At least ’til it’s profitable,” she adds, with another sidelong quirk of a smile. No point wasting an opportunity, right?

"Oh, sorry. You're gettin' it wrong - it's not them I'll be flirtin' with," Scarlett immediately quips, winning at Louise and taking a sip of her drink. "You can call me Scar, too, if you like. Though I do like the way you say Lee."

The ideas Louise has for ways for Scarlett to blend in gets a chuckle from the singer. "Actually, I kinda like that. I'll just say I dyed my hair to look like Scarlett Nash or somethin'." Her smile widens. "Or I could follow you around and help you fix shit. I'll be your apprentice."

The truth is, Louise doesn't often interact with flirting in the traditional sense, and so that quip gets her giving Scarlett a look, a glance at the dancers and then back. Because really? She’s doubtful, a little bemused -- and she goes with "Pffffff," as a response, followed with a snort. It’s a ridiculous notion, and there might be pink in her cheeks again, though she moves right along.

“See, there you go. Bet you could get your own act. Scarlee, a Scarlett Nash tribute, and you can stay lost here forever,” she says, humor in your face. “Except eventually they might kick you out of your fancy resort, and you’ll get shipped to employee island with the rest of it.” Fewer luxury hot tubs. That alternate plan that’s proposed? Makes her laugh, actually. “You just like the jumpsuit,” she says stretching out a purple clad leg just for effect - Spellbound does do colorful. “Bet you’d rock it, too.”

There's no way Scarlett would ever miss the pink on Louise's cheeks. That only encourages her, making her grin widens.

"No," she gasps at the prospect of getting kicked out of the resort. "I wouldn't allow it. I can pay for the resort! I'll work for free. Not too worried about money, darlin'."

Her eyebrows rise when Louise stretches a leg out, gray eyes lingering there for a moment before flicking up to meet the other woman's gaze again. "Damn. I don't think I could work it like you are, but I'd do my best." She fans herself for effect.

That gasp, the instant horror of being cast out of that life of luxury, gets a laugh. “Can’t blame you, we don’t have hot tubs,” Louise agrees amiably to the idea of clinging to that sweet resort life. There’s a buzz - her phone - giving that cue that she’s dawdled too long. She just gives it the briefest glance.

And cue the eye roll, good natured enough as she stretches that leg further - so as to to hop down off her stool to the ground. “Guess there’s no accounting for taste,” she says wryly, because fanning over this work attire? She’s skeptical at best, though certainly amused over it. “But even if they’re not purple, bet you’ll have better luck talking up some barmaids,” she adds, with a nod towards the singing crew that is once more trying to draw patrons into their entertainment.

She twists, leaning over the bar a little to wave a goodbye at Bill, but pauses before she goes to say, “It was good to meet you properly, Lee. Got that second impression down.” And, in proper employee-to-guest fashion she adds, a little theatrically, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay with us at Spellbound!” but then spoils it on her way out, turning back to point a finger. “Behave.”

(She won’t hold her breath).