(2018-12-01) Rodeo (Charity) Drive
The Starr Family and Jackfield Stadium host a charity concert and rodeo exhibition in aid of the local soup kitchen and homeless shelters. Calvin Shay performs with a surprise guest; bulls, broncos, and sheep get ridden; and Anthony makes quite an impression.

The stadium has been decorated for Christmas, complete with someone walking around dressed as Santa Claus. There is a ticket taker, and a big box for donations of food or clothing items. All the kinds of things that you'd expect in a situation like this.
The middle of the stadium has been set up with a stage, and people are bustling around getting ready for the main events. There are games for kids, and places to get food, and benches, and all kinds of other things. It's definately meant for people to mill around and have FUN.

Possibly to some people's surprise, Xavier does have casual clothes. Or, rather, semi-casual. His shirt is a pale green buttondown, ironed, with the wink of silver cuff links at the wrists. But there's no tie, no waistcoat, and his pants are designer jeans that outline trim, long legs. He's even got work boots on instead Italian leather, and a fine wool overcoat. It's a shame that his face is all over bruises, and there's a stitched gash on his head. He pays his ticket, then sort of wanders around, peering with interest at the various games and food stalls. He seems to be favoring his left arm.

Warren's been here for quite some time helping with the preparations, but now that the event was finally underway? He's at one corner of the stadium along with two horses from Starr ranch. These are the kind of calm mares that are good around people rather than the bucking broncs that'll be brought out later, currently on hand to let children (and adults!) pet them and ask questions. He's dressed in a pair of leather chaps over jeans, and a button-up shirt - he's even got a cowboy hat on, along with his boots.

Katya had been helping where she could with the set up to help settle the bit of nervous anticipation that had been building. Today, her eyes looked like tan/yellow spirals though up close they looked like lassos! Definitely in the rodeo spirit today. She's in a black cowboy hat with matching cowboy boots, dark jeans, and a denim jacket that has black frills on it. She finished helping direct someone towards the vendors and spied Xavier as she was making her way towards where Warren was with the horses. She moved over to the businessman, flashing him a grin. "Bestill my heart Westin. You DO own something more than suits!" Teasing, clearly.

Claire had a lot of donations to deliver. Courtesy of the production company. What they weren't courteous enough to do was hire someone to help her, so it takes her a half-dozen trips between her little SUV and the donation boxes to off-load cases of canned goods, and now she's finally free of that errand. She had to quit her super-cute pink beanie during this process, and now it dangles from her pocket, just waiting to hit the mud while she stops to talk to just about everyone for a minute, introducing herself about two-hundred times between the ticket-taker and the arena.

Vyv has, it seems, Made An Effort. Jeans, plaid shirt, and boots. But no hat. There are limits. The jeans come closest to standard: dark indigo and bearing a leather belt, though with a completely unremarkable buckle. The shirt's a Prince of Wales check with purple and pale blue lines on a slightly darker blue base, definitely not flannel, and requires cufflinks (which are, in this case, simple brown leather squares), but it does qualify as plaid. The boots are brown leather as well, but of the chelsea variety, not cowboy. Cold weather calls for gloves, and over the rest is a trapper jacket in cognac suede and beige shearling, which looks warm and vaguely westernish and probably unreasonably expensive. He's carrying a fair-sized, rather full tote bag, at first, which is plain canvas and looks not quite his thing, but that doesn't last long; it gets dropped unceremoniously into the donation bin before he buys his ticket.

One of those serving food is the 'Magic of India' stall. A brand new restaurant downtown that is serving Indian food; fliers will be handed out with every purchase. The food is hot, which it needs to be in this weather. Prisha is still getting used to the cold and, despite the heat from the cookers in the stall, she is still hiding under thick snow gear and a beanie. At least she ditched the scarf to avoid it getting caught in the food. And she's never seen cowboys in the flesh…out side of a Village People party…so the whole experience is intriguing. The amount of hay in the air she could do without.

Xavier turns at the sound of his name, and grins as he sees Katya. "Shhh," he says, just as playfully, "don't tell anyone. I don't know that my reputation could bear it," he confesses, in a stage whisper. "Will you be riding a bull tonight? And why I have I not received an update about…The Event." Yes, the way he says it suggests capital levels, and it's entirely teasing. He scans the crowd, his eyes lighting on Vyv. There's a friendly wave given in that direction.

The stage is being all set up for the live music. Mics are checked. Guitars are placed out and arranged. Keyboard and drums are set. The drum kit has the famous C & 5th logo. Eagle eyes might notice that the 'roadies' are actual band members. Except for Calvin. Whereever he is. Supposedly, he got here pretty early and helped with some set up until sound check.

Warren looks up when he hears Katya's voice - particularly who she was addressing, and his gaze swings towards Xavier. The sight of him makes his brows pop up, and likely not because of the casualness of his clothes. He hands the reins of the horse that's currently being abused by several tiny hands off to his stablehand, Shorty (who has no thumbs!) and puts his hands in his pocket, wandering over to where Xavier and Katya are speaking. "Mister Westin. It's good to see you," he says with a tip of a nod to him, and a small smile to Katya. "This is gonna be a good show I think. You get into some kinda fight?" He points out the bruises that cover Xavier with a curious sort of look, though his attention darts away when he spots Claire through the crowd. He watches her for a moment or two, before he lifts his hand in a silent wave towards her.

If Claire had only asked one of the dozens of people, she might have gotten help. Or, rather, one of maybe a handful of people. Presley totally would have, for instance. But she's busy running around, mostling moving between the stage and someone or something in the stands, then back to the stage while the very last minute things are being set up.

"Oh your secret's safe with me and I sure will be." Katya mused. At his question she paused a bit. The faint bit of pink on her cheeks was surely just from the cold weather. "It went…very well." She said finally as Warren started heading their way. "It's gonna be a great show." She confirmed. Looking towards where Warren was looking at Claire, then back to Warren. "Ain't seen her around before. She new in town?" Quriking a brow.

Now this is a charity event Vic can feel more comfortable at. Cheap to get in, casual clothes, real food, and of course, Calvin Shay performing. The Private Eye is in jeans and a pair of very battered old cowboy boots, with a henley under a flannel, under a ski vest for warmth. She dropped off some canned goods and clothing at the donation table, then she headed for the stage. She has her hands stuffed in her pockets to keep them warm, and steers way clear of the booze stalls, though they do get a long look. She opts instead for a vendor not far from the stage selling hot cocoa.

Xavier turns and greets Warren with a smile. "Mister Starr. A pleasure to see you again. I'm looking forward to it." He chuckles at the question and raises a hand to his face. "Nothing so glamorous, I'm afraid. My car slipped on some ice out by one of the ranches. It was a bit of a shock, but no great harm done." He glances back to Katya, and his smile widens to a grin. "Good to hear."

Since Presley seems to be someone that knows what's up, Claire will absolutely glomp onto her, having failed to make any headway with an old-and-rugged looking cowboy that "don't wanna be on no TV, save you're breath, sweetie." Undeterred, she walks right up to the edge of the stage and asks, "Hi, sorry, just real fast? Is this really going to be Calvin Shay, or just a cover-band?" Yes, she saw Warren's wave; yes, she wiggles her fingers back that way, but there are stars waiting to form in her eyes, here.

Willow is here to monitor Vic's sobriety. Not that Vic knows this. But Willow takes her sober companion role (sobanion) very seriously, so she is stealthily keeping her eye on her boss when not distracted by cotton candy and shooting at inflating balloons. She hasn't hit a ballon yet, though she did hit a duck; it was in the next stall along but she hit it! To aid with her stealthy actions, she has dressed to fit in - she is in a green and red elf costume. Why isn't anyone else? It's Christmas! Though it is quite cold in tights and short skirt. Spotting Vic at the cocoa stand, Willow slips into hiding behind a horse to make sure no alcohol is added to the drink. The top of her Santa hat flopping down to hit her on the nose with the lightly jingling bell.

Vyv looks around the place as if it were a curious alien landscape, which to a certain extent it probably is. Full of people he doesn't know. And Xavier! He catches the wave, and lifts a hand in return, with a faint smile that goes a bit more… well, concerned would definitely be pushing it, but he's presumably noticed the man's state of health. He aims his strolling in that direction, inclining his head to the man and his gathering entourage as he gets into casual vocal range. "Mr. Westin," he greets. "Have those protestors moved on from flour?" Might be better, though this couldn't have been good on the suit either.

When Claire catches her attention Presley pauses in her running around, blinking at the woman, "It's really Mister Shay." She replies, her brows furrowing just a bit before she shakes her head, "I mean, I'm pretty sure that…you're supposed to say if it's a cover band, right? Like…legally speaking. Otherwise that'd be a lie, right?"

"Hm?" Warren averts his gaze back to Katya after the finger waggling from Claire, his lips bowing down into a small frown. "She's with some kinda film crew. And now she's buggin' my sister, probably gonna try to get my momma and dad's phone number from her next," he puffs air into his cheeks and exhales. "Sorry to hear about your accident, Mister Westin. Though it seems like there was at least some harm done, considerin'," he points to the sling and draws his shoulders back into a quick shrug. "I better go make sure that girl doesn't start askin' Presley questions," he mutters, flashing a small smile to Katya and leaning to murmur something just to her. And then he hustles in the direction of Claire and Presley. "Miss Reed!" he says to her. "Come to enjoy the show, huh?"

Xavier laughs at Vyv's observation. He shakes his head, and gestures with his good arm to Warren. "I was just telling Mister Starr, here - it's just an accident. Don't text and drive, children," he adds, in exaggeratedly solemn tones. "But what about you, hmm? You're setting up a patissiere, aren't you? How is that going?"

The figure of a figure that looked absolutely as if they belonged and not at all playing the part made their way through the entry area of the Jackfield Stadium - or at least that's how Anthony Malone must have felt while he made his way into the stadium.
Positively out of his element and wearing what only a ridiculous wardrobe designer placing him within a terrible spaghetti western - or perhaps something Garth Brooks wore once. A large black cavalry hat donned atop his head, a thick five-o-clock shadow of salt and pepper, a sharp black western shrt embroidered with red roses of all the cliches, rolled to mid-forearm and complete with mother-of-pearl buttons, nearly black indigo jeans that even managed to sport the traditionally referred to as 'cowboy crease' above black cowboy boots and contrasting red stitching - the only thing missing was a pair of spurs.
The way he walked was equally ridiculous, his legs wider than normal as if uncertain of how one maneuvered with such tight thigh-constriction and the heels of his boots made a heavy clunk-clink as he walked. His pale green eyes glanced at those gathered, and it was as if in that particular moment he mouthed, "Fuck me runnin'…" and sighed heavily as he attention found Xavier and Vyv, his equal and significantly less ridiculously dressed fashion companions.

"Ahh yeah, you prolly wanna take care of that." She agreed, a bit of a grin at Warren's whisper. She reached up and gave him arm a squeeze and whispered back quickly before letting him go. Then she focused on Xavier and now a new face that had walked up to them. "And don't think you bein' a lil banged up's gonna delay our bet. I ride this bull, you're gonna get up on that mechanical one at the Alibi next time ya come in." She said seriously before chuckling softly. "Nice ta meet ya. The name's Katya." She offered to Vyv, trying to figure out what a patissiere was.

Claire, slowly, "I… don't… know? At the very least, it sounds like it would be false advertising. Can I - " She gets out her phone, to take a picture of the empty stage, explaining, "My mom loved him. She'll absolutely lose her mind." The whole 'hi i'm claire reed' spiel gets de-railed before it even leaves the station, unfortunately, when over comes Warren. He gets a fresh new smile, and she answers, "Hi there," with a cheery nod about coming to enjoy the show. "I'm really looking forward to the show, yep. This is a really nice event your family runs, it's too bad the crew's not here to catch some footage."

"A film crew?" Xavier only catches a bit of it, but he gives Claire an interested look, and a warm smile as she approaches. Before he can introduce himself, though, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He raises one hand to wave to a familiar figure. Then stops. And stares. And stares some more. Finally, he clears his throat and completes the wave. "Mister Malone! It's, uh, good to see you." Here is Xavier with a very solemn expression, tightly controlled, except the tiny lines at the corners of his mouth, deepening as he tries to avoid bursting out into laughter.

To Willow's credit, Vic hasn't seemed to notice her assistant stalking her like a velociraptor in the tall grass. Or maybe she knows the girl is there, but doesn't have the heart to ruin her epic stealth mission. The former cop pays for her cocoa with some rumpled bills from her front pocket, and she blows across the surface of the paper cup to cool it before taking a sip. Satisfied, she resumes her trek to the stage, to jockey for a good spot to watch her, um, she's still having trouble even thinking the word 'boyfriend' because it all feels too good to be true for the widow.

Speaking of that Village People competition, Prisha stares as Anthony walks past…or waddles past…or big-leggies past…whatever that is. That guy would win, hands down. Maybe this place isn't too different from San Francisco after all. Customers distract her and she gets back to happily serving…and handing out fliers.

When Anthony approaches the group, Katya peers at him for a long moment. Mostly in disbelief. "The hell'd ya do Malone? Go ta a discount Halloween shop and buy out tha Western section?" She, unlike Westin being calm and controlled, busted out laughing at the man and his attire. Grinning from ear to ear. "I love it. Really. Lemme make sure I get a photo a this before the day's through."

Vyv clicks his tongue once at the reason given. "Well, I hope it was at least a particularly good text," he says, and is briefly distracted from the rest by Katya's remarks, an eyebrow arching. "You're going to ride the mechanical bull? I guess Katherine was right. Surely you need at least ONE arm working at a time?" He gets on to the rest, then, starting with the young woman, "Vyvyan Vydal; charmed," and stopping when Anthony appears. BOTH brows go up for that, along with one corner of his mouth, just faintly. There's arguably some staring there, as well. "Good afternoon," he greets the man, "You've really got into the spirit, haven't you?" The patisserie will have to wait.

"I guess." Presley replies with a shrug of her shoulders, "I'm hoping he'll come say hi to people after the show." When she spots Warren heading over she quietly excuses herself before running off to the stage again. This time she gets up onto it, and moves towards the mic, tapping it to make sure that it is on before she launches into speaking…loudly. "Thank you all for coming! I know that on behalf of the Starr Family we appreciate seeing everyone turn out for this, and the shelters are going to be well stocked if those boxes are any indication!" She pauses for a moment, then continues, "I want you all to put your hands together for Mister Calvin Shay!"

"You a big fan?" Warren says of Claire with brows hiked up in a skeptical sort of way, though he doesn't tell her not to take pictures even if there is a wary glance to the phone she pulls out. He just folds his arms over his chest, watching her for a long moment. "You're in a good spot at least to watch the show." He gives his shoulders a shrug, craning his head to look back at Katya and the little group she's forming around her - that's about the time that he notices Anthony, and his eyes bulge. "Oh jeeze louise," he murmurs under his breath, putting his hand to his head and shaking it vigorously.

Willow's eyes narrow as she makes sure that no alcohol was added to Vic's drink. Satisfied, she watches her boss slip off to join the crowds near the stage. This will be difficult. How is she going to continue to see her in that mob without being seen herself. She needs height! And binoculars. Eyes scan the stadium before she decides to get onto the top of a trailer selling hot dogs out of a side window. They won't mind. The concert is about to start to she has to move. Slipping out from behind the horse, she also slips on something it left behind. A surprised squeak as she hits the ground. At least the horse pattie softened the impact…though the softness also meant it was now all over her back. A sigh as she gets to her feet, grabbing the horse's tail for balance. Willow doesn't even see the kick that has her flying through the air and hitting the ground once more, ribs aching, face in a muddy pool. Being a dick is hard.

If there was a source of resentment in his eyes, Anthony masked it well. The hand of Xavier warranted one of his in return, raising it as he approached the small grouping of persons. His walk was quick, but certainly lacking the grace of his methodical and casual confidence he usually sported, though it was certainly…something. As he came to a stop he allowed everyone their moment, glancing from face to face until they had finished and then he addressed them all at once.
He raised his hand, grasping the bend of his cavalry hat with his thumb and forefinger he let out a low, "How's y'all's doin" and grinned from ear to ear, "Halloween store? Doll, t'is fuckin' bullshit probably cost more than some'a the fuckin' horses" he grunted, though seemed jovial enough about the whole thing, "Katya, I believe you owe me" he winked and glanced at Xavier, "I'm nothin' if not fuckin' fabulous" - his green eyes turning toward the stage to which he brought his hands together in a sharp clap, "Looks like the shows bout'a start…" he mentioned, lowering his hands to hook his thumbs behind the obnoxiously large Golden-Longhorn-Skull over Silver-Filigree belt buckle reading 'CALAVERAS'

Xavier grins at Vyv. "I have made a bet, and no good man walks away from a bet. I do hope Katya will have enough mercy on me to allow both my arms to work and the bruises to heal, before I add new ones." He peeks at her, with wide, faux-pleading eyes. At the mention of Calvin taking the stand, though, he turns immediately towards the stage, his back straightening to give him just that extra bit of height to see the stage. "SHH," he says, absently, to those around him. "Calvin Shay is about to play." …someone is a fan.

Calvin bounds onto the stage and grabs the electric guitar from two set up. This one is /his/ guitar. The one he's used for years. The one he's photographed with. A semi-hollow body guitar with a more than a little distressed black and brown sunburst finish. He holds it for a moment, peering at it and weighing it in his hands as the rest of the band takes their places. They look psyched.
He's dressed…well, it's the same way you'd see him in the street. Plaid shirt over a t-shirt that reads in big bright letters, 'Support Local Music'. He's paired it with faded jeans and boots. He steps to the microphone. He looks at the crowd. Is he nervous? His eyes have a wild look about them. But just fades when he speaks.
"Hello Calaveras! Home, sweet home! Ladies and gentleman, you all know me but have you met The Fifth Chance? These are the folks, the unsung heroes that make me sound good so give them a hand will you?" He steps aside, turns and claps while his bandmates preen playfully or wave him off with an eyeroll. Except his guitarist. He's staring seriously into his instrument.
"Now, if you don't spend much time in the rodeo circuit, than you might not know that quite a few Shay men are riders and the women…well, they do it all." He grins. "So, this first song is for my little cousin Hopper out here who claims to have never heard a single song of mine. T'Hell kinda family is that?" He laughs and points out a young guy in a cowboy hat who can't be older than 19 or 20. The kid turns red and covers his face with his hat.
"You're alright, Hop. We're here to teach." He brings his hands together. "Alright! We are going to keep it upbeat for you guys. Just listen, sing, dance, have fun and donate to this great cause. Every dollar and donation made will be cash matched by myself and since all I do is charity now, I like a good write off." He grins as his guitarist snort-laughs into his mic. "Here we go. Count us out, Lydia!"
The blonde drummer does just that. "One, two, three, four!" And Calvin springs right into his very first chart topping single, 'Darling, I'm Trouble'. It's an Bluesy Country/Pop crossover that he has surely sung a billion times but he is overflowing with energy as he performs it. Hopefully, that energy is infectious.

Claire takes some pictures of the empty stage. And also some of Presley doing the introductions, all just the way any interested fan/tourist might, undeterred by getting the evil eye from Warren. "My mom loves him. He's on her list. I used to know some of his songs on the - what?" Causes him to jeeze-louise. She perches up onto her toes, bracing herself on the stage in front of her to get an eyeful of Anthony over there, asking seriously, "Is he part of the show?" She also applauds a lot for Calvin, only stopping to tap out a text super-fast. To her mom.

Vic manages to slip up to the stage rail where security is, so she can get a great view, albeit it off to the side somewhat. She sticks two fingers in her mouth to whistle for Calvin, since clapping with a cocoa in one hand is a bad idea. She beams up at him, giving Iris, his backup singer, a little wave as well. She sings along quietly to the song.

"I think," Vyv says, looking Anthony over again, "I might be willing to accept 'fucking fabulous' here." There's actually a touch /more/ amusement in that than the original remark, for one reason or another. A nod to Xavier's explanation, and though he looks like he might have a comment about that — shockingly, surely — he gives a slight inclination of his head to the shhing, and looks to the stage, clapping lightly as the band comes on. Wouldn't much matter if he were clapping any harder; the gloves really aren't made for it.

"Yeah I owe ya, one night only though." Katya nodded to Anthony with another little chuckle. When Westin shushed them, she turned towards the stage, paying attention to Calvin and his band. She had heard of him of course, heard a few of his songs down when she was in Texas, but this was the first time she'd ever heard him live. Listening close, a bright smile still on her lips as she listened and when the crowd cheered she'd cheer too, keeping in the spirit of things as she listened to him play.

Presley moves off the stage rather fast when Calvin heads onto it. Then proceeds to fan girl from a distance, where is safe.

With customers reduced due to the arrival of Calvin on stage, Prisha starts on some desserts, dancing to the music as she does so. As much dancing as can be done in a small stall anyway.

Xavier listens intently throughout the song, his expression intent. He doesn't bounce on his heels, or squee, or shout, but somehow radiates the essence of all of those things - like he's doing all of those things deep inside, and just none of them are permitted to escape. At least, until the other cheers start, and then he applauds with enthusiasm and adds a very rodeo-appropriate woop. "I've never seen him in concert before," he says, to no one in particular, with a expression of restrained glee.

Warren sticks his fingers in his mouth to let out a shrill whistle when Calvin comes on stage, stepping back to toe-tap and idly drum out the beat. Though Claire's serious question earns her a bewildered sort of look as he glances back to Anthony. "Err. No, definitely not. That'd be some kinda weird joke," he says to her, focusing briefly on the group. But he shrugs his shoulders and returns his focus to the stage. "You should take some video. For your momma," he says to Claire.

There was a bit of an amusement toward Vyv at the mention of accepting 'fucking fabulous' and he laughed softly. Though the shhing from Xavier caused him to blink a bit at the man, turning to gaze at him pointedly when he mentions never seeing him in concert before, "Is that…surprising? Should I be surprised at that? Cause right now I'm more surprised 'at you look like you wanna' go backstage wit' him to see what he'd do to a roadie…" Anthony remarked at Xavier, though his glance toward Katya brought a wink of his green eyes toward her, "it'll be a hell of a night"

Claire will be that no one in particular, and answer Xavier excitedly, "Me neither, this is so cool," because nothing bridges the divide of age and experience like music, awww~. She tries to do the fingers-in-mouth whistle that apparently everyone else around her can, doesn't succeed, and so settles on a girly squeal. "Oh my gosh, I should!" she agrees with Warren, dealing with her phone again to do the video thing, selfying-it-up real fast to intro it with a quick, "Mom, he's totally singing for you," before turning the phone back to the stage.

Willow staggers to her feet, frowning for a moment at the loss of one of her elf ears, before she remembers her mission. Some mud wiped from her face and horse manure brushed off her backside before she heads for the hot dog trailer. Hopefully, Vic is still in the same place she was. Nope. Willow looks panciked for a moment before spotting her boss on the side of the stage. Oh no! Those rock and/or roll musicians are known for their naughty ways. The roadies are even worse. Ignoring the pain of her bruised ribs, she pushes through the crowd to find a place to watch Vic. "Excuse me. Sorry. Sobanion coming through. Oh, that's a nice jacket. Can't stop and talk." The movement through the crowd made easier by the distinct aroma that rises from the short elf with the jingling bell on her hat.

Xavier gives Anthony a pained look. "It's /Calvin Shay/, Anthony. And I don't think he swings that way, and neither do I…but I'd possibly make an exception," he adds with a wink. Then he grins at Claire, and nods, firmly. "This is /very/ cool." Another look back at Anthony. "Calvin Shay was one of my favorite musicians when I was younger, and I'm still a fan. Very excited about the idea of him coming back."

Calvin's energy seems nearly infinite as the bops keep coming. It's not long before the whole band has found their groove. Calvin sings and bounces and dances like a dork. He's having a blast.
A few songs are covers. Some are his own. 'Luck For Another Night' and 'Can't Hold Us' are selections from his 'drinkin', partyin', solo cups and bonfires' style of earlier works. He also covers Before He Cheats, made famous by Carrie Underwood. But, because it's a Calvin Shay cover, it has to be different. So he made it gay.
Right now, he's probably slow dancing
With a bleached-blond twink
And he's probably getting frisky…
But that's how Calvin Shay does covers. An interesting arrangement or gender swapped lyrics. Maybe a change in tempo or mood. That is just the way he does it. As he finishes that one with a cheeky grin on his face, he says, "Ain't a proper rodeo without a little gayness, and ya'll know I'm right." He jokes, grabbing a thrown bottle of water.
"Next song is a Bon Jovi duet called 'Who Says You Can't Go Home'. Now I don't have Jennifer Nettles and while my backup singers are amazing," He says, giving them a grand gesture. "I have someone else in mind." Calvin leans into the mic and says, "Will Victoria Grey come on stage, please? Victoria Grey, please come to the stage."

The flyers around town had certainly caught Carsyn's attention and she comes to the rodeo dressed pretty much as she dressed any other time. Faded jeans, Doc Martens and a Dallas Cowboys jersey. Her pea coat with its twin rows of oversized black buttons is buttoned up most of the way and she has her hands in her pockets as she stands to watch the concert. When one song finishes and he introduces another, she remains where she is, listening and people watching for the moment.

Warren utters a rumbly chuckle as Claire gets out her phone, the laughter deepening at the twisted version of Carrie Underwood. And at some point, he takes a few more steps back to drift into Katya's little circle of people, giving the woman a light nudge at her hip with his own. "Mister Malone. You're lookin'.." he clears his throat. "Uh, in the spirit." At least he's trying to be polite about the get-up.

Vic freezes like a deer in headlights as she is called to the stage. Her expression reads, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Fortunately, or unfortunately, some folks in the crowd know the local PI, and one lady, for whom she provided photos of her ex-husband shagging his secretary, graciously plucks the cocoa cup from her hand while her sister, in full rodeo get up, raises Vic's other hand high in the air and shrieks out, "She's RIGHT HERE! Oh Em Geeee!" Vic swallows and is let through the barrier and escorted up the side stairs by security, her eyes as wide as saucers. At least they're clear. The usually drunken woman is sober as hell.

"Nor I. He's quite good," Vyv says, understatement being rather easier than exaggeration here. Probably also in, "Nice to see he continues not to be dead after all." Visibly enthusiastic is probably asking a bit much, but the appreciation of the music does get clearer as the set goes on. The wording change (though, what are the chances he knows the original, really?) gets a blink and a soft laugh. "Maybe you have a chance," he says lightly to Xavier. "One can always hope."

As the songs go on, Katya gets pretty into it. Relaxing a fair bit, dancing, singing along. She loves it. When Warren comes back over she grins up to him, returning the nudge and shifting a little closer. She cranes her next to try and see who Victoria was. Attention directed when a girl screeched out and she couldn't help giggling. She couldn't help but feel sympathy for the woman while at the same time very glad she wasn't in her shoes.

The mention of Xavier making an exception for Calvin, and the timing of his cover of especially gay proportions could not have fallen at a better moment, "You're in luck, fanboy" Anthony commented with a grin and laughed at Vyv's own words. Though when Warren closes the distance, his grin remained, and he offered th same greeting as he did the others, a reach for the bend of his cavalry hat with a tip of it toward Warren, "Mista' Starr, I look fuckin' ridiculous, but It's also a lovely event an' someone told me I wouldnt" he explainde while the call for Victoria came across the mic, he looked out over the crowd to see the antics, "Oh boy… that fuckin' sucks…" he muttered, turning toward Xavier, "Did you wanna' be Victoria t'day?"

Xavier laughs out loud at Vyv's quip. "Don't get my hopes up. The disappointment would be crushing." He puts one hand over his heart in an exaggerated posture of sorrow. But it's clear that the music has put him in an excellent mood, so even faking sorrow is difficult to hold. He shakes his head to Anthony, though. "Oh, god, no. I'm only a fan of stages if I am winning an award or receiving a large check. If duets are part of the bargain, then I definitely have to cede the floor to the competition."

Claire is really into the show, mind, but she has to ask, "Can I take your picture?" of Anthony. She already has her phone out, and he's right there, and she points it at him with the question holding her finger over the clicky-part of the screen. She makes the hopeful eyes at him, while the most romantic thing ever is happening on the stage right in front of them all.

Another loud squee from the audience at the mention of Vic's name. This time from Willow, jumping up and down excitedly at the prospect of seeing her boss singing. She nudges Anthony. "That's my boss. She is such a good singer" explains the mud (and worse) covered Christmas elf. "She is totally going to rock it like a Stonehenge mason, you know?" The short girl trying to get a better viewpoint, pushing past the uniquely dressed man…and maybe smearing him a bit…while also jumping up and down to try and see. And Claire wants to take a photo of Anthony? Photobomb!

"I mean, I'd hope s…" Anthony naturally responded toward Willow's words, though the vision of who, or, what, was bumping him nearly made him go wide-eyed, "What ina' actual f…" was what he managed to get out and then she was pushing past him to get closer to the stage. It was inevitable. He'd been slimed, slathered, and wiped on. Though luckily only on the elbow of his shirt. He was clearly not taking it well, though his attention was better captured by Claire.
"Yeah, sure kiddo, of course you'se can" he replied, quickly rolling the tainted elbow one fold higher to mask the bit that had been saturated, and then the other sleeve to make them even. He turned toward Claire, tipped his hat and made a finger gun toward her with a big, broad, toothy smile.

Calvin looks like the cat who got the canary as Vic is escorted up. "I know you know the song." He says, with the mic only picking up some of that statement. He and his guitarist change instruments, with Calvin picking up an acoustic and the other swapping to a different electric. There is a lot of movement onstage. The backup vocalists sit on stools with one waving at Vic. The drummer twirls her sticks like a high school color guard girl on meth. The kid on the keyboard has pulled out a violin and repositioned himself closer to center stage.
A stagehand thrusts a mic into Vic's hands and the music begins. It's a trimmed version, an adjusted arrangement. Calvin begins, looking at Vic expectantly.
I spent twenty years trying to get out of this place
I was looking for something I couldn't replace
I was running away from the only thing I've ever known…
Who is Vic? The question seems to be on the lips of some people in the crowd, others that recognize the local PI are losing their minds, cheering and hooting. Everyone, without a doubt, is enjoying the show.
<OOC> Calvin says, "YT Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CeX5VEo10c"

"Most places gain a certain something when one's receiving a large check," Vyv remarks, "…awards too, I suppose, might depend what for. And I do apologise… but I'm sure someone'd be happy to take your mind off it." He glances toward Willow at her analogy, with a touch of amusement that increases at her outfit just long enough to note what's on her, and he automatically takes a step away, even while safely protected from transfer by Anthony. That's still just not safe enough.

Warren blinks a couple of times as Claire comes over with her camera and some lady comes in to bump into Anthony and smear him, but his attention is actually stolen by what's going on up there on stage. The big ol' cowboy might actually be melting a little bit. "Oh, man. Isn't that sweet? Miss Reed, I'd be pointin' my camera up there if I were you.." he drawls out, pointing up to the stage as Calvin begins to sing along with Vic.

Oh no. Xavier's attention is briefly diverted from the stage by Anthony's plight. He grimaces sympathetically as he sees the stain before it disappears, then his eyes track Willow. "That's the girl who works for the private detective, isn't it? Why is she covered in…whatever she's covered in? Is she moonlighting as a stable hand?"

Vic takes the microphone with an audible nervous gulp coming across it as she's settled into place. She thinks about giving Iris and her lil wave the finger, but there are people with cameras rolling and oh dead God he really did this didn't he? As the song begins, she shrugs out of her vest so she can try actually breathing instead of nearly hyperventilating. Is this stage fright? She was a cop, dammit. She did karaoke a thousand times, albeit drunk. She can do this? Maybe? She looks at Calvin though, and something in those eyes of his seems to drain the fear away. When it's her turn to sing, she does.
Who knew Vic could really, really sing? Besides the people on stage, the few at karaoke in bars very late at night, though it was kind of slurred and wobbly from the drink. Now though, her voice is clear, if raspy and growly, more akin to P!nk than Nettles, but damn good.
"Like a blind dog
Without a bone
I was a gypsy lost in the twilight zone
I hijacked a rainbow and crashed into a pot of gold…"

The ear-to-ear smile is undimmed by the photobomb; if anything, Claire just laughs even more merrily and taps a couple times. Insurance pictures. "Pew-pew," she finger-guns back at Anthony, tacking on a series of delighted thank-yous while giving the pictures a quick glance. That's all there's time for, before it's back to, "Oh my gosh," and she turns to the stage again, somehow managing to clasp her hands in romantic delight at what's happening on-stage without dropping her phone in the mud. She does try to take Warren's advice, filling up her phone's memory with more pictures, but the stars in her eyes mean all those pictures probably suck bad.

It seems Warren is taking his own advice - his phone is fished out of his pocket and aimed towards the stage as Vic starts to sing her part of the duet. He's hushed - this is the most romantic thing ever! Someone's definitely internally squeeing.

It's not usual to jump dance to an acoustic ballad but Willow is giving it a go, mainly so she can see. The photobomb accomplished, and not finding any luck with being able to her boss's big opportunity properly, she tugs gently on Anthony's clean elbow. "Excuse me" she smiles sweetly, "Would you mind giving a Christmas elf some help? I mean, I know I've lost one ear, but I'm totally an elf. Though not on a shelf…more of a beanbag…though being on a shelf is related to my dilemma. In a way. Sort of. If you mind-squint a little." Her nose screws up. "Can anyone else smell that? Oh…you got something on your elbow. You should be careful when you walk around in the country. Anyway, I wonder if I could sit on your shoulders to watch Vic sing? I don't weigh much and you are totally tall…and strong looking."

"I don't think stablehands usually go for the Christmas elf look," Vyv says, though the tone allows it's possible. Maybe stablehands get more festive than he imagines! Once Willow's safely out of the way, he spares a glance for Anthony's shirt, a touch of sympathy there as well, before returning his attention to the stage. "Maybe she fell off a bull. Hm. She's not bad either," he remarks, changing pronoun referents with no warning, just in time for Willow to pop up again. And he steps away again. Better Anthony than him! "You, mn. You've got some… thing on your costume, do you know? All over the back, I'm afraid."

Calvin is recharged by Vic singing. Maybe he expected her to turn him down. He's beaming, "All together now!"
I been there, done that
But I ain't looking back on the seeds I've sown
Saving dimes, spending too much time on the telephone
Who says you can't go home?
And thus it really begins. Calvin Shay singing in duet with…some local? Well, from the way he looks at her, she might be something special. As the song winds down and finishes, Calvin whoops and says, "Calaveras, this is Vic Grey! I am Calvin Shay. This is the Fifth Chance! You have been an amazing crowd. Have fun, donate, and enjoy the holiday season!"
He grabs Vic around the shoulders and plants a big kiss on her cheek before whispering something in her ear. With those words, it's time to clear the stage.

Xavier does not take out a phone, but seems to be trying to lock it all in his memory with just his eyes. As Vic takes up the mic, his eyebrows rise. "Well. If she ever wants to switch careers," he murmurs…and then Willow's approach catches his attention. His eyes widen a bit through her request, and his eyes are bright with laughter as he glances at Anthony. "Help an elf out, surely?"

Vic actually starts to get into it after the first chorus, and by the end of the song she's bopping along with the beat and belting her lungs out, harmonizing with Calvin as if she was born to do so. All those years in Show Choir in high school taught her that, before she decided to take the family path into the Police Academy. Some locals may recognize her as a former cop, or from the news that was all over the place when her husband was killed in the line of duty, widowing her some 15 years ago. When the song ends she hugs Calvin, whispers something back to him, then hugs Iris before waving her way off the stage.

The look that Anthony gave willow was the same one he'd likely give to a homeless man asking for his truck, "I'm.." he began, flabbergasted at her query, "What?" he chopped out, "That's from YOU" and it seemed as if he was entirely uncertain to either be angry or laugh maniacally, "It's gotta' be close ta' bein' over an…" and he sighed heavily, thankful that it was drawing to a close, "No. The answer is no. You're cute, an' an elf, but no. Please, just…don't…." he distorted his lips in a bit of disgust, "Get any more of that on me"

As Calvin makes his excite off the stage Presley is cheering, so much that she actually forgets she should get on the stage after. Well, almost. But she scrambles on as the band and everyone are clearing off, "Oh my god! That…that was amazing." She gushes about it, her hands clasped in front of her, "So, I mean….please donate, and coming up is going to be the Christmas parade….while that is going on, we're going to move the stage out for the exhibition events."

Over the intercoms come the canned music, Christmas edition as the children in their costumes start filing in with their little calves and chickens and things. It's a slightly odd sort of wise-man and the baby Jesus feel to it.

Claire actually wipes an actual tear, swiping it away with her knuckle in a real 'nobody saw that' gesture while Calvin and Vic finish their song. She sniffs, turning away from the clearing stage to fire off a few of those pictures via text, aimlessly in her own (super-romantic) thoughts for a while. She'll come back to the here-and-now when it's relevant.

Warren stops filming when it's all said and done, a deep sigh escaping him. "Now that was a show," he remarks to nobody in particular, tapping on his phone for a minute - perhaps to send off a text - and then he tucks his phone in his pocket. As the Christmas children start parading across the field, he takes a step back from the group. "It's almost my queue. Yanno, Miss Reed, if you wanna get some good pictures before they start bringin' out the broncs, I can get you above the stalls," he suggests, but he doesn't wait for her - he just starts walking off. She can follow if she wants.

Applause follows the performance. Carsyn had heard of Calvin but had never seen him live before. As the applause dies down she tucks her hands back into her pockets and glances around for familiar faces, perhaps even the newest of acquaintances. It's then she overhears about the start time for the broncos and she picks her way around the crowd towards the stands across from the stalls for a better look."

The kids march around the stadium, singing along to the Christmas songs. It all buys time while they clear the stage out of the way, so that when the bigger animals come out, there aren't any accidents.

And Willow even had a wide-eyed pout going to try and convince Anthony. This man must have no heart! The elf looks quite distraught before Vyv is telling her about something. She looks over her back, brow furrowing. "How did that get there? I mean, I know /where/ it came from…just not how it got there." She looks up at the sky in case there are Pegasus in the area before shrugging it away. And now the song is over, and Willow does her best to make some noise. Cheering. Hooting. Hollering. "Go Vic!!" Oh…she's gone. Willow offers smiles to those around. "I have to go keep an eye on my boss. Does anyone have any hand wipes? Oh…and don't buy the cotton candy, it may be meth."

Katya takes the opportunity of the buzz of the show ending to slip away herself, to take care of a few things before the time to show off comes up.

Xavier breathes out a small, satisfied sigh as the music comes to a close. He's got a little of that look, like maybe he should go off and have a cigarette. But it only lasts for a moment, before the kids start marching around the stadium. He laughs. "They're cute," then turns his attention to Anthony. "Okay. I have to ask. Why…" a gesture at the outfit.

Vyv glances sidelong at Xavier, at the man's encouragement to Anthony's chivalrous side, and that laughter in the eyes is clearly contagious. Probably regrets having let the elf in on her condition, now. The amusement just increases at the New Yorker's actual reaction; sympathy only goes so far. He claps, of course, when the set concludes, but the only thing that loses his attention faster than canned Christmas music is a bunch of kids with farm animals.
He looks at Willow again, and sighs, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a white linen handkerchief, which he offers her. "Please don't return it," he says pre-emptively as he does, "Consider it yours." Part of his attention's waiting for Anthony's answer to Xavier, but most of it's on Ms. Horse Apple 2018.

Claire looks up from her phone. Looks around at all the other people who have their phones out. Silently curses this culture of ubiquitous cell phone usage! And hypocritically continues to text-and-walk, only avoiding walking right into people because someone says her name. "Hmmm?" With an immediate smile, of course. "That would be - " But, since Warren didn't actually wait for her response, there's no point finishing her sunshine-and-daisies response. "He looks fabulous, that's why," she tells Xavier before hot-footing it out of earshot, following the nice cowboy that's going to let her look at horses.

The heartless bastard formerly known as Anthony Malone turned his attention toward Xavier, though caught a hitch as Willow mentions something about the cotton candy being Meth, squinted, and turns fully toward Xavier then, "WHat…the….jus…whatta' actual fuck" he muttered, grimacing with a sigh as he shook his head, pulling the hat from atop his head, he ran his hands backward through the coal black locks and returned it to its rightful throne atop his head.
" Cause Katya said she didn' t'ink I would an' it's fun ta' make fun of the wicked outa' place New York guy dressed like…" his words fell short and he glanced toward Claire's responde about him looking fabulous, "…Yep." he nodded, "Dressed fuckin' fabulous." he affirmed, and moved to thuck his fingers into the hip pockets of his jeans, finding them to be too tight after a few attempts he sighed and hooked his thumbs behind his belt buckle instead. "I also had no fuckin' idea whatta' buy so I jus' went ona' cowboy rodeo site an' boughta' most expensive shit that I could match together…" he shrugged

The adorable little children in their Christmas pageant glory will soon get the hell off the stadium grounds, and Warren himself will hop up on stage to take up the microphone after he escorts Claire past the security to get her up close and personal with the broncs and bulls. "Well that was a dang good show, and weren't those kids adorable? But this is the /rodeo/ folks!" Some rednecks in the crowd let out a 'DAMN STRAIGHT IT IS!' while pounding Bud Light, as Warren chuckles into the mic. "The Starrs've got a treat for ya'll, so don't you worry. Get on the edges of your seat. First up is a bull rider straight outta Texas, Miss Katya Larsen!"

The crowd was good and riled after Calvin's performance and Katya was feeling inspired. She hoped an hour was enough that this bull wouldn't kick her off right out of the gate. Warren announces her, She held on tight to the rein as the gate opened up and it was off to the races!
One hand holding fast as the bull bucked and jumped, kicking up dust. She started slipping to one side and for a heart-pounding moment thought for sure she was a goner. At the last second, she was able to use some of the momentum to pull herself back on to the bull proper. Letting out a whoop, she lifted her cowboy hat in the air and gave it a wave. She held fast as the bull made it's way around the ring.
She had almost made it half way out. Taking every buck, jerk, and jostle in stride. Until she got just ever so slightly cocky. Her grip loosened for half a second, but half a second was all it took. The bull made a sharp turn and tossed her clear off. She hit the ground and rolled, arms up in a defensive sort of posture. Her hat landing a couple inches away. As the hands came out to retrieve the bull, she coughed a bit, but jumped to her feet. Bruised or cracked rib. Maybe. Nothing she couldn't handle. Nothing that could really be done for it, but she would get it check out later. Instead she offered the crowd a bright grin, spreading her arms and doing another hollar before waving and heading off the main area. Thank goodness for adrenaline.

Willow looks rather touched when Vyv hands her the handkerchief. "Awww…that's so nice of you. Thank you." The Spirit of Christmas lives! She even uses it to dab a couple of tears away before she has to get going and track down Vic. "Hey, X" she grins to Xavier; she does remember him! Then she is slipping through the parting crowd, trying to reach behind herself to dab away the manure. If there were gentlemen here, they would offer to help.

There's a bunch of hooting and hollering from the rodeo fans up on the stage as Katya comes out in full force on the bull. But it's debatable whether the crowd was cheering on the rider or the bull, given there's a mix of gasps and outright cheers when she finally falls off. People love a good injury.

Xavier can't help it. He snickers, just a little. "You got played," he tells Anthony, oh so solemnly. "She tried to put me in flannel. /Flannel/, Anthony. Her fashion sense is not necessarily our own." That said, she's coming out to ride a bull, and he promised he'd watch and set up his own doom, so he turns in that direction. But not before giving Willow a warm smile. "Hello, Willow. Good luck with the cases." He does not offer to help with the manure. But he does cheer for Katya, then wince when she falls off. "Did she win? Is that winning? What is the goal?"

Claire's interest in the animals is passing. But she happily gets her ear talked off by a grizzled old veteran hand that tells her all about the personality traits of his charges. Thankfully, he doesn't have a cell phone, so she can't give him her number, too. He's still regaling her while Katya takes a spill, and he can be heard to say something about how that one old bull's always been a fiery one, which parlays into a story about how one time a rider… anyway, this is Claire's life now.

"No, it is not Native American food" Prisha tries to calmly explain to a customer, smile unbudging. "It's from India. The country. As spicy as you like it. Yes, there are beef dishes." The customer finally makes a selection and she serves it up, one eye on the woman on the bucking bull. Now /that/ looks like fun.

Vic emerges with her vest back on, looking like she's still riding a musical high, instead of a chemical one. She knows Calvin has things he has to do as a celebrity, so she instead manages to find her assistant amid the crowd. "What cow did you piss off, Wil?" she asks the girl, before taking the handkerchief from her to clean off her back. "Did you at least bring a change of clothes? You'll freeze in that getup."

Warren hops off the stage and down into the pit behind, where the stagehands and stablepeople are fussing over the animals. There may be a devilish smile flashed in Claire's direction when he sees her being talked to by the grizzled old vet. "Oh, Jake! Tell her 'bout that time Grandpa Starr took on that bull from Kansas City, the one that only had one eye?" he encourages, winking at Claire before he climbs into his own stall, likely about to put on a show of his own for the crowd. In a few minutes, or something.

"Quite welcome," Vyv says to Willow, and also does not offer to help with the manure, having clearly just exhausted his supply of gentlemanliness. Or possibly caring, since she's moving out of danger range. There /is/ a hint of sympathy for Anthony, even if it's wrapped in the same amusement the outfit drew before. "I don't think we've found your new look," he says to the man, "but one has to admire the commitment. I believe you may owe her one." One what is left strongly ambiguous. The bull riding is much more interesting than the children, and seems quicker than he had imagined — he looks surprised at how soon Katya's on the ground, and there's a slight wince at how strong the impact looks. "Mn. Both still set on that mechanical bull, are you?"

The bull that Katya was riding is corraled into the stall by a very brave rodeo clown wearing bright red. He's running like a crazy person until the handlers get the bull in, and nobody gets a horn to the thigh (which makes a lot of the Bud-drinking crowd sigh dramatically). Almost immediately after, the gates are opened and two tiny little cowgirls in pink come out riding sheep! It's adorable. How cute.

Willow is crestfallen as Vic makes a beeline for her. She is supposed to be an unseen and unknown, like a Ninja. A Christmas Ninja. "It was the bell" she frowns at Vic. "You heard the bell. I couldn't find a Santa hat without a bell. I could find them with /more/ bells. I even found one that two huge bells…but I don't think you wore that one on your head." A reluctant handing over of Vyv's present. "I don't think it was a cow. I think it was a horse. Not sure, things got a little blurry after I hit my head in the mud. Did you see the cowboy over there?" A wave of her hand in the direction of Anthony and company. "He has a ten gallon hat but a twenty-five gallon head. Can you believe he wouldn't give an elf a shelf? Awww…look at the sheep riders. Soooo cute! We should have them in our television ads. 'When people try to pull the wool over your eyes, you need someone to ride the sheep'. It's a work in progress. And your singing was /awesome/! I am so happy for you…and Calvin of course. We need to find you a manager."

Claire's eyes pass over Warren's, narrowing for just a seconds into a look that is not made completely out of rainbows - she's onto him! - but it's a weak effort at best. Because she does actually seem to enjoying old Jake's stories, and hitches her foot on the lowest rung of the fence and everything. "Now that one there," says old Jake, pointing to the stall, "I trained that one up myself - oh, looky, there go them littl'uns, my own Sarah used to…" Seriously. She's here forever now.

Xavier gives Vyv a sidelong look. "I admit that the bull idea seemed a lot more enticing with a half a bottle of whiskey in me." He sounds amused. "But I feel like if getting tossed on my ass by a fake bull is the worse thing that happens to me before the end of the year, I'm probably doing pretty good." He points at the little sheep and their riders. "More my speed, I think. If we can find one in my size."

The curling grin at the edges of Anthony's lips was meant for Xavier and he shrugged a shoulder, "You shoulda' done it. Get you'se a nice an' loud one, pinks an' purples an' shit" he snickered, imagining the setting for a moment. Despite being toned down from his normal self it seemed an impossible feat. Looking toward Vyv, Tony raised a hand to stroke the growth of his stubble along his jaw thoughtfully, the curious sparkle to his eye at what it was exactly he intended, though the mention of the mechanical bull brings him back to reality, "Huh? Oh…" he nodded his head as he turned to watch the riding - wincing as Katya got thrown off, "We should run a bettin' pool on who stays on longer, Westin or I" he grinned, turning to look over toward Xavier, "Who want'a set the odds?"

Vic cleans off Willow's back and chucks the hanky into a bin. "I dunno if I'm gonna kill him or bang him for that stunt. It was pretty romantic though, wasn't it?" she muses to the girl. She snorts at the manager idea. "I'm a PI. I'm way too old to break into the music industry. I wouldn't mind joining him for a song now and then though. That was really fun, after I got over the initial abject terror of it all," she notes with a smirk. "Why don't we find a spot in the stands to watch. If you hit your head, we need to keep an eye on you, kiddo."

Willow sighs dreamily and nods. "It was sooooo romantic." She has to agree with that. "It was like if Everett invited me into a football game to run a play. Not sure if the crowd would be as excited for me as they were for you. Everyone loved you! And you've already broken into the music industry. You just did it" she smiles with a wave at the stage. A momentary frown at the disposed of handkerchief, she'll need to write Vyv an apology. "I didn't bring any more clothes" she adds, "And it is cold. We could go sit in the stands, or, you know, hit Sideshow Alley and see how many autographs you have to sign."

While her brother and the others are doing things out there, broncs and bulls, and other things. Sheep. Presley is making her rounds of the crowd, chatting with people now and again, generally making sure that everyone is happy.

There's a man with a southern drawl that comes up on the stage to narrate the events - the little girls take a tumble off their sheep and go rolling in dramatic fashion as helpers come rushing out to ensure there's no trampling of tiny bodies. The sheep get corraled, and the man on the microphone makes a few jokes before he announces the next act. This one's Warren's show, and the gates come open as a handful of cowboys on quarterhorses come running out, alongside Warren himself. His black-and-white dappled stallion bucks and kicks his two feet wildly in the air, snorting and wild-eyed like the horse was the devil himself. The horse doesn't have a saddle - Warren's riding him bareback, holding a long rope tied to the horse's muzzle in one hand and his other hand up in the air to keep balance as the steer kicks and snorts, the other cowboys corraling the horse to the side of the rink. It's a fast run, clocked in at about a minute and a half (and a successful one, according to the crowd that knows a thing or two), before Warren leans off the horse's flank and skillfully dives off onto the back of the other man's horse. The bucking bronc is then driven into the gates before another bull-rider comes out to take the stage.

"That's just what Calvin needs, Wil, his girlfriend publically telling the press or his fans to fuck off and leave her alone," she chuckles. Then she sighs. "I'll be able to count every wrinkle in my forehead on youtube, I'm sure." She shrugs out of her jacket and the flannel, handing the warm plaid shirt to Willow to wear before putting her vest back on. "Put that on. If you die of pneumonia I'll have to answer my own phones, and that's not good for anyone."

Vyv looks to the sheep-riding when Xavier gestures, and half-smiles. "Admittedly it looks like a softer ride," he says, "but I think by the time they're in your size the speed might increase. Still likely better post-whiskey." Though that does explain it. "And I suppose it's already unlikely to be the worst of the year, so, point taken." At Anthony's remarks, he looks between the men consideringly. "Hm. I think I'd have to see the odds before I decided where to bet. But do let me know when it's happening. I'd definitely like to see. Are you planning to make it the same evening?" That the horse-riding seems to go longer than the bull seems to please him, though it doesn't stop him chatting.

Xavier's eyes drift back to the arena as the adorable cowgirls leave, and Warren comes on. His eyebrows go up, and he watches with fascinated interest. "Okay. THAT looks like winning. Whatever winning is, in this context. Are there points?" Then he looks back to Anthony and Vyv. "We could bet, sure. And if we did, I think it'd have to be the same evening. I don't know much about mechanical bulls, but I do know competitions are best done face to face."

Katya had posted herself up somewhere near the stands, standing up and favoring her left side ever so slightly. She awws when the sheep come out and takes her phone out to snap some pictures. She also films Warren's ride, giving a hollar with the crowd when he dives on to the other horse. And keeps her phone out so she can continue snapping pictures or filming.

"Then don't tell them to 'fuck off'" Willow replies to Vic with a smile. "Do the selfies, thank them for their support, and bite into your hot dog? I think I still smell a bit, so no one will stay long." The shirt gets a smile of thanks before she wriggles it on. "Whatever you want to do, I'll do it. Oh…I shot a duck before. You know those airgun games? You would shoot better than me" she shrugs with a smile.

"Well, I t'ink he gets an advantage on account'a bein' able ta' fuckin' walk right…" Anthony grunted at the subject matter and shook his head, reaching one hand down to his nether region and attempting to adjust 'himself' in a way that apparently didn't make him walk bowlegged, "I swear, if my fuckin' boys needed ta' breath oxygen they'd be fuckin' suffocatin' right now" his words were rough and clearly eluded to whatever truth there was to that statement before his straightened himseld upright and sighed, watching the bronco show with Warren. "Why on eart' is this…." he gestured toward the center rodeo ring, "Why? Who looks atta' fuckin' muscle bound work animal and says, 'Betcha I can piss it off an' stay on longer 'an you' " he squinted, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.

Xavier chuckles. "I mean, we used to do that when I was a kid. Only it was cops, not livestock. People gotta get their kicks," he says, philosophically. Actually, from the way he's watching the riders, there may be a sneaking, tiny bit of Xavier who is really, /really/ digging the whole danger aspect of it all. "On the other hand, the cops smelled better." A pause. "Mostly."

"You really expect me to not swear when people annoy me?" Vic asks Willow with an arched brow, in a completely rhetorical way. "As for the games, I'd probably do worse than you did. Since I actually know how to shoot, and those guns are always rigged to be off balance and the sights are purposely off," she says with a chuckle. "If you're hungry though, I smelled curry and I'd shank someone for Indian food." She tips her chin towards Prisha's stall.

Customers! And one of them looks to be the singer from earlier. The other…looks to be a Christmas elf. "Welcome to the Magic of India" Prisha smiles, gesturing to the food options. "You are a very good singer, Miss. Everyone enjoyed it." She may not be entirely sure who Calvin is since he never put out a disco album, but some of the songs sounded familiar in a 'played at a football game' kind of way.

"There must be," Vyv guesses about the points, and glances over at Anthony's complaints and questions. They get a laugh, and he leans back slightly, taking a look at the rear view of Tony's outfit. "They do do nice things from behind, though," he notes to the man, "If that's any consolation. I'm with you on the 'why'," obviously, "but," and a small gesture toward Xavier and his response. "I've definitely known people who'd be champing at the bit to have a go at that. Especially once you throw in the bet." A small pause, and he glances to Xavier again, arching a brow. "I have trouble imagining you riding a bucking cop." A slight pause, and though he briefly looks as though he's going to amend that, he changes his mind.

Xavier grins at Vyv. "I have layers," he claims, solemnly. He nods to Anthony. "Anyway, I'm up for making the bull…interesting, if you are. But for now," he sighs. "The dog pills are wearing off. I can feel it. Let me go redose myself and get to my hotel. You guys take care." And then he's waving to all, and disappearing into the crowd, moving a little more slowly than he was when he arrived.

"I'm always a fan of food" Willow grins to Vic as they head over to the Indian food stall. "Ooh…I don't think I've had Indian before. I mean, I've had corn…but I think that is a different Indian." She spots Xavier leave and oftens him a wave goodbye before peering at Anthony in the crowd. "Oh! I get why he's dressed like that" she smiles to Vic, "He's one of those rodeo clowns." It all makes sense now.

Vic almost rolls her eyes at Prisha. Then she mentally reminds herself her behavior reflects on Calvin in this instance. "Thanks. It was fun. Can I get two orders of samosas and two cokes?" She asks the girl while digging out some more wrinkled bills from her jeans. She looks over to Willow. "These are filled with veggies and spices, lots of potatoes. Really good."

Esme made her way to the Stadium. Late, but here at least. She had a box of donations from the box that had been set up in the library and dropped that off first before making her way inside. She wore a pair of jeans and a thick green turtleneck. She had managed a pair of cowboy boots but that was the extent of her 'rodeo' attire. She pulled her jacket a little closer, making her way through the crowd, keeping an eye out on the field where various riders were performing.

Prisha dishes up the food for Vic and Willow, not holding back on the serves. And she doesn't charge food stall rates either - decent prices for exceptional food. At least she hopes that idea holds. "There you go. And if you like the food, please tell your friends." A flyer for both of them advertising the restaurant. "Is this your first rodeo?" she asks lightly. "It is mine" she admits, because she looks completely like she belongs here.

"Ya'know…" Anthony gave Vyv a look of serious appraisal, "I t'ink I'm supposed to be surprised. But I'm not." he laughed softly and intentionally flexed his derrier within the tight jeans, giving a nod of his hat toward Vyv, " 'Preciate it, doll" he remarked and turned his attention about to the people of the rodeo.
With one hand, the New Yorker dove into the depths of one of the pearl-buttoned chest pockets and withdrew a pack of Parliament cigarettes which he plucked at with his lips, resulting on one hanging from between them, he tilted the pack toward Vyv, "Smoke?" - His pale green eyes found the figure of Esme as she entered and he raised a hand to wave at her, his very attire placing up a beacon of 'OVER HERE'

Esme was taking in the sights of everything and at first she overlooked Anthony, thinking he was - as someone mentioned earlier - a rodeo clown. Then her eyes snapped back as he raised his hand towards her. Her eyes widened a touch and then started walking over. "Dare I even ask?" She motioned to the outfit he wore, though she smiled, a bit of a chuckle on her lips. Looking to Vyv, she smiled brightly to him as well. "A pleasure to see you again Vyv. Are you two enjoying the show?"

"Samosa" Willow repeats, slowly, making sure she gets the name right. "Sounds good" she nods to Vic's description, taking the offered food with a smile. "When you live in this town there are always rodeos to go to" she explains to Prisha. "I don't go to many but I have been to some others. They're fun, if you like animals. Vic, do you have any painkillers? A horse kicked me earlier."

Vic takes the little paper baskets of samosas and hands one, and a soda, to Willow. She gives Prisha a smile. "Nah. I'm a local. Been going to rodeos here since I was a kid. Dad loves them. Wouldn't be surprised if he was here…actually…" She trails off, realizing her parents are very likely here, and very likely saw her up on stage. Oh. Crap. Now her head's on a swivel looking for her father to avoid.

"Indeed," Vyv replies to Xavier, giving him a small smile in return, and bids him farewell. Anthony's remark gets a look just faintly too amused to make deadpan, and then a tiny upturn at one corner of his lips, slight tilt of his head, and one lifted brow. "Oh, I'm sorry, was I passing?" he says dryly, and holds out a hand for the offered cigarette, "…yes please." He follows the move of Anthony's hand toward Esme, and inclines his head to her as she nears. "Ms. Ryerson. It's certainly been an interesting event, yes. My proverbial first rodeo. Do you come often?"

"Dare you even ask…" Anthony arched his brows toward Esme as he repeated her words back to her with a hanging question, withdrawing a cigarette from the pack and placing it in Vyv's hand, where his eyes rested on him for a moment before stating simply, "Point." and tucking his pack back away.
Returning his attention to Esme, he canted his head aside somewhat, the material of his cavalry hat shifting to expose more light to his ruggedly whiskered features, "…Dare you ask why's I look positively *smashing*?" he asked her finally, withdrawing his light and igniting his cigarette, holding the flame out for Vyv, "Or did you want to ask for a smoke?" he winked

Prisha would remark that Vic's parents would be very proud of her, but, thankfully, she manages to perceive that this would not be a good thing to say. "I've only arrived from San Francisco. Still finding my feet. Though everyone has been very nice and kind so far. You two are mother and daughter?"

Willow also starts looking around at the mention of Vic's parents being here. She has offered to fix that relationship recently and this would be a great opportunity to do so. Who would get mad at a Christmas Elf? 'Tis the season of love. She bites into a samosa, chewing happily away before giggling at the Prisha's family remark. Though, rather than shake her head, she nods. "Yeah, Vic is my special mom. We look out for each other. I'm even her sobanion."

Esme shook her head at Vyv's question. "Not at all. When I was younger I did but it isn't really my…scene persay. I only come for things like this. Charity events and the like, since we always set up a box at the Library to help out." She gave a little shrug. "They can be interesting to watch. I definitely admire the riders because I surely couldn't do such a thing." She looked back up at Anthony. "Don't tempt me. I don't need any more vices again." She chuckled, giving him another look over. "I don't know if I want to laugh, or drag you away." She winked to him, teasing lightly.

"Willow is my assistant, and indispensable," Vic says with a small smile. It's clear she cares for the insane little elf that smells like horse poop. She may be rough around the edges, but she's good deep down. "I'm going to go find us a place to sit, Willow. Join me if you want." Or she's going to go hide from her parents possibly spotting her. Or she's going to go tacklesnog Calvin Shay somewhere.

"Ta," Vyv says, and makes use of the flame as well, that getting just a slight nod of thanks as he exhales. A slight sigh with it, as though it's been far too long. "You could try both," he says to Esme, "The latter would probably soften the former." A glance off toward where the animal-riding is continuing, somewhat thoughtful, and he says, "I don't think it's quite my scene, either. But there are worse ways to spend an afternoon, all in all."

"If you're going to be okay, Vic, I might head to Everett's place" Willow tells her boss with a smile. "I'll see you later tonight. Don't stay out too late. Though if you do, let me know. And no drinkypoos." With that, she heads off, munching on her food and humming a tune.

"Are you *sure* you don't need somethin' else ta' be aDICKted to?" Anthony posed childishly toward Esme, one hand on his cigarette and the other depositing the lighter into his shirt pocket, he rocked on his heels, therby resulting in a subtle thrust of his hips forward with a grin toward Esme, "I try's ta' be accomodatin' so's I mean…" his words were spoken toward Vyv's suggestion though his eyes were on Esme, "Decided ta' show up?" he asked, turning to follow Vyv's look toward the rodeo arena, "I'm sure we's could wrangle a buckin' brawny…mount for ya" he smirked

Suddenly, there is a light tapping at Vyv's elbow. His personal assistant has appeared out of the ether, her ever-present tablet in hand. She's bundled up in a stylish Cole Haan wrap coat in pale blue, her blonde locks swept to one side with the gentlest of waves. Black tights and ankle boots peek from beneath the coat's hem. She looks impeccable, like mud refuses to touch her. "Mister Vydal, just an update that the shipment that didn't arrive yesterday, did so this evening and will be ready for the crew to work with tomorrow at the build site." ((ooc: outfit https://wornontv.net/88842/))

Vyv snorts softly at the emphasis and gesture, the quiet sense of amusement going absolutely nowhere. "No one can resist the chivalrous and gentlemanly charm of the cowboy, I have it on good authority," he says, taking another drag, and looks faintly surprised when his assistant suddenly appears. But only faintly. That's what they're for, isn't it?
"Good. Thank you. What timeframe is Mr. Connor giving now, and how likely is it I can speak with him in the next three days without ending up covered in blood and needing new knives for the kitchen, again?"

Esme pressed in closer to Anthony when he thrusted forward, mischief dancing in her eyes as she whispered something to him. Then she stepped back and grinned. "I could try both. We'll see." A nod to Anthony. "I had to drop off the donation box anyway. Figured I would stick around." She mused. "Oh I don't know if any of them are quite my type." To the bronco comment. She gave a polite nod of greeting to the assistant that showed up, chuckling at Vyv's words about not being able to resist a cowboy.

Anthony held his cigarette free away from Esme as she leaned in to whisper to him, and whatever it was caused a slow creep of a smirk to dance across his firm lips. As she leaned back, he replaced his cigarette between his lips, pulling the hat from his head and fanned himself playfully, "Whoo…" he exhaled, shaking his head, "Did it jus' get hot in 'ere? Is it jus' me?" he mused, and was equally just as if not more surprised by the sudden appearance of Vyv's assistant, "Jesus fuckin' Christ…" he muttered, giving her an overview beneath the appraising gaze of his pale green eyes to which he pursed his lips, glancing at Vyv, "I'm quite jealous, Vyv. Did you bring her with you?" he asked, though he seemed to contemplate for a moment, leaning in to whisper something to Esme.

For the most part Carsyn watches the rodeo, and with each name drop, she watches the participant compete. There's no one she approaches, no one she talks to, just a random face in the crowds that could very well be a tourist.

Cassidy taps the tablet a few times. "I've managed to get him to advance his completion estimate by two days, by offering to stop paying him on the original date he contracted for, sir. And letting every developer in Colorado know he reneged on his promise to Chef Vydal if he did so." She smiles charmlingly, like a cheshire cat. She knows she did well. It's why he pays her what he does. "I suspect him to be unflinchingly polite to all of your queries going forward, if he wants to maintain his reputation." At Anthony's comment, she gives him a polite smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

It's probably time to start the discounting. Prisha, still bundled up against the cold, starts putting out the half price signs on her stall. Much better to sell the food at less than cost than dragging it back into the city. Though anything she doesn't sell by the end of the night will go to the homeless and youth centers.

Yup, she did well. Clear enough from the sideways look Vyv gives her, and the almost conspiratorial little smile. "Have I mentioned I like you?" he says lightly, to that effect, and glances to the couple standing with him. "This is Cassidy Carr, my assistant, and no, I poached her from City Hall. But I stole her fair and square, so don't get any ideas. Cassidy, this is Anthony Malone, he's in finance, and Esme Ryerson. She's a librarian. Town library, not university." Another drag, and a glance at his assistant — more of an assessing once-over, this time. No audible comment, but he seems to approve of the choices.

A light bite of her lip at whatever Anthony whispered to her, staring at him for a long moment. Partially looking like she was really about to drag him out of there. However, she resisted for now. "Nice to meet you." She says to Cassidy. "I…food. Over there, I think I saw." She stammered out, turning on her heels and heading towards Prisha's stand. "Hello there!" her cheeks were pink for whatever reason. "What do you recommend?" Asked to Prisha.

"Not in the last three hours," is the retort to Vyv. Cassidy inclines her head toward Esme. "The pleasure is mine. Good to meet you as well, Mister Malone," she notes, offering the man a hand in a professional shake. "I'm sure we'll be talking sooner or later about Chef Vydal's finances and any expansions he may plan in the future. Here is my card," she procures one from her coat, it's sharp and clean and declares her as the personal assistant to Vyv with pertinent job-oriented contact information.

"Everything?" Prisha smiles warmly to Esme's question. "I would hate not to recommend my own cooking. Are you after something hot? Vegetarian?" A tilt of her head as she notices the pink cheeks. "Cold? Maybe something spicy to warm you up?"

"It's much too late, Vyv, as I've already got them" Anthony retorted to Vyv's remark of not getting any ideas, though the smile suggested he was jesting with the man. At the offered hand of Cassidy, he shook it professionaly enough as one could when clad in a disco cowboy's wardrobe. "I've no doubt I will hear from, if not speak to you soona' or later then, Miss Cassidy" he replied and took the card with an appraising eye before giving it a nod of approval and tucking it into his breast pocket. Likely to the surprise of others, he procured his own business card from the opposite breast pocket and extended it toward her.
It was simple, sleek, and elegant. Classic raised black serif font on an heavy weighted eggshell that simply read 'Tony Malone' the title of an organization 'Investment Opportunities Unlimited' and a small corner block of information such as 'Advisor' followed by his contact information.
"Please excuse me, it would seem I need to acquire some Indian food…" he grinned and headed after Esme

"He doesn't usually dress like that," Vyv adds to Cassidy, sotto voce, though if he genuinely didn't want to be overheard, not quite sotto enough. One might suspect he was teasing back. A small inclination of his head and negligent wave of the cigarette to the man as he takes his leave, and he turns his attention back to his assistant. "Anything else new I ought to know?"

Presley slips off to help things behind the scenes. Making sure that all the Christmas cheer is happening.

"Uhm let's go with warm. Not spicy. Though I will have to try it sometime. Surprise me." Partially seeming like she just was trying to distract herself. Until Esme saw Anthony heading over out of the corner of her eye and her cheeks seemed to flare up again. A shallow breath and another smile to Prisha. "Surprise me. Whatever your favorite one is."

Cassidy takes the card and tucks it away, leaning to murmur to Vyv, "I'll add the information to your electronic rolodex, sir." For someone as posh as she appears, she looks completely relaxed in the rodeo atmosphere, which is odd. At the comments on Anthony's wardrobe her lips twitched. "I assumed that, sir, being as he looks about as comfortable as a, what's the phrase? A long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs?" She holds the tablet to her chest with one arm. "I believe that is everything for tonight. You have two meetings tomorrow, but they're on site so you don't need to travel for them. I've narrowed down the suppliers for the signage for the patisserie and it's down to you to interview them both to choose."

Prisha nods to Esme's request before looking over what she has left and selecting a chicken dish. She can't help but notice the reactions concerning the approach of Anthony. "Is that your boyfriend?" she whispers while serving up the food. "Drink?" she asks louder. "A Mango Lassi I think" she smiles before grabbing one of the last ones.

If he wasn't, Anthony was certainly a bold one, as he approached Esme from behind and came to stand next to her, arm draped over her shoulders and looking his green eyes over the Indian stall, his eyes flitting over Prisha for a moment as he pursed his lips, "Business good?" he asked, and while his attire screamed 'Rodeo Clown' his voice very much screamed 'Tony The Wrench from Mulberry Street' and bore a brutishly thick New York slur to the words. "It all looks so's good" he commented with a smile around his cigarette.

"A clever cat would just jump from seat to seat," Vyv says a touch absently, "Occupied or not. 10am and 1, aren't they? Did the web designer send over the latest version?" He finally moves from the spot he's been keeping warm all afternoon so far, strolling toward the food and drink stands, though not immediately the indian one. The gaze he sweeps them with isn't particularly enthused. "Been to many rodeos in Denver?"

Esme's eyes widened at Prisha's question and was about to answer when she suddenly found herself with Anthony's arm around her. She cleared her throat and decided to avoid answering the first question. "I would love a drink. Yes. I don't know what a Mango Lassi is, but it sounds delicious." She looked up at Anthony finally, "…I told her to surprise me. So she is. Never really had much Indian before."

Wyatt hasn't directly been part of all the talk, but he does show up. Listening and looking to those present with one ear of his headphones in. "Hi." Is offerd, Trying to see what is the currently topic. Eyes flicking back and forth.

"It's waiting for you in your on a USB drive in your room at the Bed and Breakfast, as is a digital copy and a paper copy of your itinerary for tomorrow," Cassidy rattles off. She walks beside Vyv, a half step behind, and blinks over at his question. It takes a moment to formulate an answer. "Oh yes, it was a rather common occurrence." In truth, it was the Houston Rodeo she was used to, but she can't say that. "I was dragged to quite a few of them by friends."

"A Mango Lassi is a sweet nectar from the Gods" Prisha assures Esme as she offers it over, along with the chicken tikka masala. "One of the reasons we chose this town to establish ourselves was it's terrible lack of Indian food" she grins before nodding to Anthony. "It tastes even better" she promises. "What can I get you? Business has been quite pleasing today, though it is mostly to advertise the restaurant." Here come the flyers. "New York?" she asks, "Your accent is like my Uncle Javad. He runs a seafood restaurant in Brooklyn - 'Eats with the Fishes'. Maybe you know it?"

"I can't say I'm surprised, hon" Anthony replied to Esme's mention of not having tried much Indian food. He wrapped his fingers around his cigarette and plucked it from his lips, dropping it to be smashed into oblivion beneath his toe as to not force Esme to be in the immediate vicinity of her former muse. "Whaaaat?" Anthony replied to the mention of Prisha's uncle, "Fuckin' Eats wit'a Fishes is a great fuckin' spot. I been there a few times wit' some friends'a mine…" he offered a hand signal of index and thumb joined together in a ring for 'OK' "Good fuckin' joint. I'ma have ta' make a visit ta' your spot here in town for certain" he smiled, taking one of the flyers and fluttering it slightly before Esme, "We'll have ta' get dinner ther sometime"

"Good, we'll see if it works this time," Vyv half-mutters, and pauses to eye one booth in particular. "The Christmas Dung Elf claimed she thought that cotton candy probably contained meth. It /would/ explain some of the children, I suppose." There are quite a few still running around the place, quite literally; he's adjusted his trajectory already to avoid a puddle a couple keep chasing each other through. "I'd think the line would be longer then, though. Is this about usual? For rodeos. Oh, and IS there a point system for the horse riding? We were wondering."

"I'm fairly sure there's no meth. Cowboys are more about booze than hard drugs, best I can tell," Cassidy quips to Vyv. "I do warn, however, that spun sugar melts easily and would absolutely ruin your coat." She hms at his question and pulls up her tablet again, as if searching for answers, even though she knows them. "There is a scoring system for the broncing, the ones that try to buck off the cowboys, both the bulls and the horses. The bull or horse, and the rider both get scores if the rider makes it 8 seconds on board. It's almost as dangerous and injury inducing for participants as horse racing is for jockeys, though I suspect the jockey injuries are due in part to their drastic low weight requirements."

Wyatt doesn't know too much about other places. Being a local. Watching those present. "Is there some new place to eat in town?" He asks curiously while watching those present. If he recognizes any from the rodeo scene, he will greet them properly. Otherwise occupying himself with listening in and filling the silence. Still trying to catch up.

Esme smiled to Prisha as she explained about the drink, accepting both and taking a deep pull from the paper cup and then exhaling slowly and letting Anthony and Prisha talk for a moment about her uncle's joint. She lifted the food up towards Anthony. She hadn't particularly been hungry - just wanting a distraction. "Do you want to try it first dear?" Sure, she'd play along for now. "Also, Prisha, this drink is fantastic." She smiled to her.
"Oh, yes. It sounds like a lovely place for a date night." She added.

"Uncle Javad will be honored to know that his restaurant is famous in Colorado" Prisha beams, "Even if it is only because one of his regulars is here. Yes, you should both come and have dinner at the 'Magic of India'. We have just the tables for quiet dates. The service is prompt and discrete. The lighting mellow, the music soft, the perfect environment for new love." A bow to Esme. "I am glad you like it."

Vyv gives Cassidy another sidelong look, with one of those little lip-quirks. "I may not know much about rodeos, but I do know sugar," he notes, and looks toward the actual riding again as she pulls up the information. "Eight seconds for both? Mm. That first bronco-rider must have been remarkably good, then. I think he must have managed a good bit over a minute. …it sounds a bit closer for the first girl on the bull, though." Both sides of his mouth lift, then, and he looks back to his assistant. "Apparently, both Anthony and Xavier have agreed to bets that involve them riding a mechanical bull. That sounds like a fun evening… as an observer."

"Mister Westin, and Mister Malone? Well, I think that would be extremely entertaining, although if Mister Malone attempts it in those jeans, I don't think he'll be able to ever have children," Cassidy quips wryly. "You're not entertaining any crazy ideas to do it yourself are you? The last thing you need is another delay to opening."

The grin toward Prisha was one of ease and sincerity, "Absolutely" he replied and turned his face toward Esme to be met with an offering of the tikka masala though he raised a hand to block any attempts to serve it to him, "I'm 'fraid not, love. You'se the one t'at ain' had no Indian food before, jus' trust me it's delicious." he smiled, leaning his head down to whisper into the woman's ear privately before straightening upright and withdrawing the fold of bills from his shirt, folded over once and crisply fastened about by a silver metallic clip, "How much for the food?" he asked Prisha, releasing Esme from the weight of his arm to pull money from his fold.

"GOD no, have you met me?" Vyv replies, giving Cassidy a highly dubious look. "I intend to find something appealing to drink and watch them, that sounds much more fun." He glances toward the indian stall, and adds, "You're not wrong about the jeans, though. On the other hand, his usual trousers don't deserve that sort of treatment, so swings and roundabouts I suppose. Of course they're probably easier to replace. Shall I tell you when it happens?"

Wyatt does let people's conversation fill the silence along with the music from his headphones. Trying again, "Magic of India?" He asks of anyone. Raising a brow as he look to Vyv curiously. Perhaps something in what he says, or how it is said. Moving to try and buy something from Prisha as well.

"Eight dollars, including tax" Prisha smiles to Anthony with a nod to the discount signs. It looks like she will be able to clear most of her stock at this rate. A smile to Wyatt as he appears. "And how can I help you, sir? Best Indian food in Calaveras." It may also be the only Indian food in Calaveras.

"Do you require me to be there to take blackmail photos of them for later use?" Cassidy asks Vyv, blinking owlishly at why she would be invited to such a guys' night out. Her lips purse a little as she gives Anthony's denim lower half another perusal. She looks amused. She gestures towards Prisha's stall for Wyatt. "There, I believe," she notes. She's helpful to all!

To be fair, Wyatt is probably not the first person to look at Vyv curiously when he's talking. The accent tends to stand out, for a start. And that's before parsing whatever he said. Vyv barely seems to notice, though he does catch the words-to-anyone, and makes a 'what she said' gesture toward Cassidy with his cigarette after looking the man over. "Unless you were wondering what it is, in which case, Indian food that may or may not have mystical powers, I haven't tried it."
To Cassidy he adds, aside, "I was just thinking you might like to see it, actually… I suspect it would take more than that to blackmail either of them. They /are/ doing it in public of their own free will. On the other hand it might well deserve commemoration. We'll see."

"Of course, sir, I can be there," Cassidy acquiesces. She looks amused at the idea though. "Now, I should let you get back to your companions, and get home. Early day for me." Someone has to have everything ready and waiting for Vyv when he gets up and is ready for work. "Good, night, Mister Vydal."

Esme leaned in a bit as Anthony whispered and she eyed him a bit before taking a slow bite of the Indian treat. There was a tiny little spark in her eyes as she savored it. Then leaned a little closer to Anthony as she swallowed. "It's delicious." Finishing off the drink as well. "We will definitely come by to your restaurant. I'm wholly looking forward to it." Her head turning slightly to murmur back to Anthony.

"I look forward to your company" Prisha smiles to Anthony and Esme; new love is so nice to see. "Enjoy the rest of your day" she adds. Once she serves Wyatt, she might look to start packing up. It's a long drive back to Downtown with ice on the roads.

There was a lean toward Esme from Anthony to listen to her and then he smiled, turned his head, and returned one right back before straightening up and taking a deep breath of the cool air of the night, "A'right. I t'ink I've stood outside ina' cold long enough. I gotta' get outta these clothes before they start cuttin' off circulation an' start tryina' make me say t'ings like 'y'all' " he grinned and looked toward Esme, "C'mon" he muttered, giving her a little nudge and raised his hand toward Prisha, "Have a good night, San Fran" and smiled a wide, white-toothed smile before starting a stroll toward the exit, and also Vyv to whom he raised a hand, "Vyv, Miss Cassidy, we'se gonna' get outta' here, you two's be good, a'right?" He commented, though after passing Vyv, he pointedly removed his hat from behind him in an attempt to drop it atop the man's head.

Esme says, "Have a lovely evening all." She waved to Prisha and then Vyv and Cassiday, chuckling softly as Vyv was now the proud owner of Anthony's hat. Then would start heading out with the New Yorker."

"Mm. I think I'm getting bored with this, anyway. That might be just about enough rodeo for one day," Vyv decides, taking another drag as he looks around. An inclination of his head to his assistant, and a slight smile. "Good night, Cassidy. I'll see you in the morning. Oh— but be a dear and check on the chairs, would you? They're meant to arrive Monday, but they can't go in if the place is still all dusty."
He starts to wander in the general direction of the exits, in no hurry, which makes him easy enough for Anthony and Esme to pass. He lifts what remains of his cigarette in return, and looks both startled and slightly distressed when he's suddenly attacked by a hat. A hand comes up to try to bat it away, right before the state of the ground around him makes him equally instinctively try to keep it from falling. It results in bobbling the thing a couple times, certainly far more inelegantly than he'd prefer, before he manages to catch the brim against his thigh, and keep the thing from its doom. A glance at it suggests he isn't entirely sure that's a good thing. Regardless, he looks up from it to the previous owner. "Good night, Anthony, Miss Ryerson," is all he says, and brings the hat along as he goes.

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