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The Club
Topic Started: Feb 7 2010, 08:25 PM (1,437 Views)
Roxanne Hurtig

It was about three in the morning when Roxie walked into the famous La Botella Verde. She hadn't planned on going there that night, though at some point or another she definitely wanted to. It wasn't as if people in her circles had never talked about this wonderous places. With all the high ratings, Roxie knew she'd end up there at some point or another. It was just a really random night to show up.

Alone.

Roxie had just finished performing at a somewhat shady location in eastern London, and when invited to an after party at an even shadier bar nearby, her intuition told her to politely decline. Of course, her excuse had to do with her family and such, but walking out of the little club caused her to reassess herself. She wasn't tired at all; in fact, she was highly thrumming with adrenaline and energy as she tended to be after most of her shows. Wandering a little bit just made this place pop in her head, and in a rather 'why the hell not?' mindset she went.

Before she entered though, Roxie wiggled out of the hot, itchy fishnets her "agent" of sorts insisted she wore, breathing with relief as the night air hit her bare legs. It wasn't her style to match tight glittery dresses with fishnets; while she appreciated the draw of the tights, there were specific outfits she would limit them to. Silver and sequins were not one of them. Walking in, she also pulled the clip putting her hair in an updo out, fluffing up her curls mindlessly. Comfortable and soft; that was the way she liked it. If she could use just one single sexy item, the rest of it didn't need to be; she didn't feel the need to try so hard.

Glancing around to evaluate where she wanted to be, Roxie decided that she wasn't going to dance just yet; she was going to head over to the bar and the show for a celebratory drink and to check out part of what the place was known for. While Roxie was straight, she definitely appreciated beauty.

It took two seconds for someone to get up and give her their seat at the bar, giving a sweet smile to the man heading off and then a much more genuine one to the bartender. "Shake me a Dreaming of Zen will you? Thanks sweetie."

To watch the show, Roxie spun her chair around so her back was to the bar, leaning back to lean her elbows back on the counter, crossing her legs before her. Satisfied - but not surprised - that her drink came rather fast, she held the champagne flute loosely in her fingertips, sipping the sweet and spicy mixture contently.

Yes, this was much better than some bar with the on-hire band.
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Miguel Cisinerros
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Miguel wasn't one of those bosses and owners that stayed couped up in the office while their employees did all the work down below. Especially not when he owned the "hottest and most elite wizarding nightclub of the year". This was not his own words, he would have added a lot more deserving adjectives to the sentence, but rather the words of multiple magazines and newspapers. Needless to say, Miguel was very proud and not even more smug about his and his brother's accomplishment. Not that they wouldn't be even more elite if they had a swimming pool, but he digressed.

So walking around the club he was, and if there was any indication of how popular they really were, he only had to check his watch and see what day and time it was. Thursday at three in the morning and the night was still going strong, as it should be and would be, until closing time at five in the morning. Walking further into the main area of the club led him towards the back bar, the one near the entertainment stage. They had a dancer tonight, it was the most common act yet all their dancers brought something unique to the stage. And he wasn't only just talking about props. Such as the dancing poles, heaven forbid he use the term 'stripper pole' to refer to it.

Spying an open seat at the bar, he headed to it, grinning immediately at Lars who was working behind the counter and leaning over it to clap his hand on his shoulder. "Hey man, how's it going tonight?" Lars laughed and merely gestured with his hands around him, before he put the bar rag over his shoulder to answer with a simple "the same way we do every night". Miguel laughed along and grinned, nodding before he began asking for his usual drink only to have it placed in front of him by the other bartender, Priscilla, who waved her fingers at him before heading off to serve the other customers. Miguel inclined his head with small amusement, trying very hard to keep a smirk off his face, before he turned around to see Charlene and Rosario up on stage.

That had been his intention, at least, because as soon as he saw who he was sitting next to, he had an immediate change of plans. Bouncy blonde curls belonging to a gorgeous looking woman, wearing a very attention grabbing dress. Her eyes, however, were beholding the show as well and he had to turn to look at his girls up on stage before leaning over slightly to ask in her ear, "What do you think of the show?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

Yum. It wasn't everywhere that made her DoZ drink so perfectly. She'd first experienced it when she was on a race trip with her daddy and ever since then she always - always - began the night with it. It was a refreshing and spicy drink just shaken to cause her skin to buzz and her to want to get up and move. Powerful drink, it was. Between it and the music, she didn't think it'd be very long before she was out on the floor herself.

Watching the dancers was a rather interesting experience though. If she thought of it in any way but of art she would probably be blushing, but her eyes were taking in the little details and strengths of each of the dancers. So caught up in her interest in the show before her, Roxie didn't notice at first that the set of giggling girls to her right had ventured off and a rather delectable male took their place. As he was grinning and talking to the tenders, Roxie took a moment to look him up and down at her leisure, returning her gaze to the front as he too turned around to watch the performance.

Her attention was easily caught by the sparkling costumes (lack there of) and the spinning on the poles, but she was still very, very aware when the man leaned in closer to her space and asked a question. A smile flirted with her lips, but she quashed it down and without looking away from the dancers, she asked "Truthfully?"

At his slight nod she pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder. "Well, the blonde on the right over there? She's a beat off. Either she's new, sick, or didn't get enough rest or nutrients beforehand, but it's making her look like she's trying far too hard to keep up. Then the girl off to her right is adding her own choreography into this that, while nice, throws off the whole concept of a synchronized performance. Instead of making her look good, it's making her look like a spotlight whore and while I guess some guys are into that, to others of us it's rather trashy. I'm sure she gets her own moments in other times, so she can play the game for now. As for the lighting, while I appreciate the idea of being artsy, it looks like the redhead on the far left is half cast in shadows. It's making her look harsh, while the one right up front has the full light on her and it's showing imperfections that probably won't show in normal lighting. As a group they all look like they're missing something..."

With that said, Roxie leaned back again and took a long sip of her drink, thoughtfully adding, "But you can definitely tell that there is some talent and love for what they're doing up there, and they are all gorgeous."
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Truthfully- that small word was enough to make Miguel immediately prepare himself for the worst. After all, if it was going to be a simple compliment of the show being great and amazing, it would have just come out that way at first. So he settled himself in the chair, leaning back and looking back and forth between the stage and the woman sitting next to him, as he took a sip of his mojito.

It was amusement more than anything else that her words were causing him to feel. Amusement at the fact that she was nitpicking every tiny detail there was, most of them would go unseen to the untrained and inebriated eye. He did nod his head slightly and chuckled as she said Charlene was a spotlight whore. Charlene was....of a special making, that was for sure. Not that any of his girls, or guys, lacked any kind of confidence (they were all boasting with it) but Charlene wasn't known to be completely likable to...most girls. But, thankfully, most males didn't give a shit.

He grinned and then laughed as her whole critique was finished by a compliment. Amusing and unexpected, and nodded. "Have a couple of more drinks, I promise it'll get better," he commented, laughing once more.

"Actually," he added after he took another sip of his drink, "You should probably let one of the owners know, so that they'll fix it." Miguel's lips twitched and he made of show of looking around, and then turned back to the girl with a small grin and held out his hand, "Miguel Cisinerros, and your name? I'd like to know more about you, apart from your keen eye for detail and thoughts on the show that is."
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Roxanne Hurtig

Roxie, once she finished her answer to his question, swung her chair to be facing her companion more than the stage, setting her empty glass on the counter. She was glad to see that her criticisms weren't taken badly; he didn't jump up right away and boast loudly in defense of the women on stage or move away in disgust. No, he chuckled and was even nodding, completely good-mannered about the entire thing.

It earned him a smile, her gaze flicking for a second to the cute tender as she simply asked for something with cherries. "I'm working on it." She told him cheerfully, tapping her toes to the beat of the music. However, his next suggestion had her taking a drink of her black cherry vodka cocktail after a little laugh. "If I see them, I would probably let them know if they asked. Otherwise I don't like to step on other people's artistic visions."

Her eyebrows went up a little as she watched him glance around, taking his hand curiously, "Roxanne Hurtig. If you want to you can call me Roxie. Are you the choreographer?"

He was awfully curious about her 'thoughts on the show', after all.
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"That's the spirit," he commented with a small grin, chuckling as he took another, and final, sip of his mojito and placed the glass back on the counter, which Priscilla picked up immediately, asking if she wanted a refill but he politely declined with a smile. Miguel never had more than one drink a night, a "work ethic" that even Mateo himself sometimes couldn't handle to keep. Actually, Mateo tonight was being dragged out by a friend of theirs- good thing to because the man needed it. And Miguel could handle the club by himself for one night, after all. His brother's sanity was more important at the moment. Miguel joked, but even still it was a tad alarming to be that into your work no matter how amazing it actually was.

"The bosses? Oh, those two, they hardly know what they're doing," Miguel joked momentarily, not being able to resist playing this little game. "You probably have more artistic vision in your fingernail," Miguel grinned as he heard Lars laugh lightly behind him. That part wasn't entirely a lie- Miguel was rather horrible. He only surveyed the dances and gave his stamp of approval, but for the most part the dancers had full control over their routines. If it looked good to him, then it was good to go.

"Roxie," he repeated, trying it out. Chuckling, knowing that the little game was playing had been up, he admitted. "I'm the owner." Co. owner. But, the prefix didn't do much to neither the title or the sentence- it was understood by now.

"But I am quite devoid of artistic vision, either way."
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Roxanne Hurtig

Roxie raised her glass to Miguel before she took another sip, noting the fact that the tenders were particularly attentive to him. Roxie was always one for details, even if she really had no reason to be. While the tenders were definitely on top of the game and taking care of everyone - a very, very nice trait, given some of the clubs she's been in lately - they were keeping half an eye of the blonde sitting next to her.

Now that her curiousity was sufficiently teased, she decided she needed to find out exactly what he was. If he was dropping comments about the owners carelessly while complimenting her, he must have had some sort of tenure-related job or connection to the place. I twas something she didn't mind at all; it was always better to meet up with someone who knew the ins and outs of an area when visiting for the first time.

"I see." She commented, wiggling her fingernails against the glass. "Kind of hard to believe, given how classy and put together this place is."

Compliments for the criticism; she would continue until it seemed to her, even. Or rather, it would have been had he not just revealed that he was one of the owners of the place. Immediately she laughed, shaking her head at him, "Sneaky, asking newcomers what they think when they're lulled into the belief you're one of them." Still, she grinned, "I don't take any of it back."

Studying him a little more closely, she also asked, "Aren't you a little young to be owning a club of this caliber?"
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"It is quite the place,I can't deny." Miguel looked around, when she yet again complimented the nature of the club, he felt it was a necessity especially when it followed her blunt, yet honest and true, critique of his girls up on stage. He wasn't too hung up over it; he would pass the message along for he had indeed memorized all of those small faults, and have the girls work on it later. At least two of them would take it personally enough to try and rectify immediately. Female pride; it was such a wonder at times, tended to be more curious than male pride if that was even possible which of course it was. But either way, the girls were doing their job, and most of the patrons were indeed buzzed enough to simply clap and cheer whenever they thought appropriate.

Pleased to know that the knowledge that he had, for a small moment, deceived her hadn't annoyed her, but rather garnered a laugh out of her in response, Miguel tilted in his seat to face her more, no longer willing to pretend he was paying much attention to anyone else but the woman sitting beside him; or rather now as he turned, in front of him. He smirked a bit as she teasingly called him sneaky, and shrugged before grinning, commenting with a simple, "Well, I try." And he succeeded. Because....he was him.

"Good, I wouldn't want you to," he told her honestly. "Fickleness would only take away from how...spectacular you look, anyways." Because she did, she really did.

After a small chuckle at her next question, he answered with his own question, "Aren't you a bit too gorgeous to come to a club of this caliber alone?" The question was mostly rhetorical, for he quickly grinned and shrugged his shoulders before answering her question truthfully. "My brother and I...well, we go big or we go home. This," he lifted his hands up to indicate the entirety of the club, "just happens to be the former." It was their Mona Lisa, their Eiffel Tower...their masterpiece.

"But enough about me, I am terribly boring," he stopped himself to grin slightly because he couldn't say that with too serious of a face on before he continued, "What has brought you, newcomer, to our wonderful establishment?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

Roxie nodded, "First time I've actually been here. Given the fact that it's been oh, ten minutes and some drunk creep hasn't trying to feel his way up my skirt? I think we're already in fantastic ratings." It was only half a tease, though she said it with a grin. As a new performer she had to take the jobs that she could get, and go out to the places she was told to go out to. This lent itself to quite a few attempted feel-ups, suggestions...even questions how much she charged for specific...duties.

So hey, the expenses were totally worth it.

It was always in Roxie's best interest to watch the people's expressions she was around when she was singing to see what they liked and what they didn't like, and it began to turn off into her every day life too. Like for example, she was quite taken by his smirk and easily continuing grin. Or rather, that was the excuse she was giving herself. He was just really something.

"Thank you, I try." She echoed back with a little laugh, reaching out to tug on the zipper of his leather jacket. "I have to say the sentiment is mutual."

She was definitely positive he was hitting on her the next comment though, and she couldn't help herself; her lips pressed together in the closest thing to a smirk as she could manage. "Who says I am?" Of course, that was something he quickly moved on from, talking about the subject she herself had brought up. And then, before she could even have a moment to respond to that thread he was moving on again.

"I'm going to need a few more drinks just to keep up with your flighty conversation, darling." She laughed, taking a second before she responded, "Didn't feel like heading out with the group to a seeder place but wasn't tired enough to go home. I've heard about this place frequently...I just have never made the time to come. Seems that wasn't a good choice on my part."

No, because if this man was the owner? Good sort must definitely come there.
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Miguel laughed, and nodded knowingly. He was very aware of the type of bars and clubs that were more common than not, and definitely knew the type of men who habituated them frequently. When he and Mateo worked as bartenders when they were freshly and legally eighteen years old (they were with amusement referred to as the 8th wonder of the world...mostly by middle aged women who were trying to get into their pants, but he was getting off track), they frequently had to pull out the bad weeds who blamed their wandering hands on the drinks. Now, Miguel wasn't going to deny that he himself hadn't...copped a feel every now and again but they all happened after he had bought them a round of drinks, and learned their names, and he had never been slapped in the face for it.

Seeing that his comments were being taken positively as could be told by her small laugh and grin, Miguel decided that it was as much of a green light as he was going to get. The little gesture with his zipper as well only served to make him grin. He inclined his head in a small thank you, winking at afterwards.

"Well, you have no one by your side," he gestured to the other chair beside her because, while indeed occupied, the man next to her was too enthralled by the show, unable to notice Charlene hogging the spotlight or Rosario being a beat behind, and etc. "And who in their right mind would want to be away from you for even a second?" Compliments flew very easily from Miguel's lips, it was as natural as breathing to him, made even easier by beautiful people like the one he was talking to.

Grinning unabashedly, even as she commented on his rather rapid conversation changing, he merely took it with the grin and listened to her answer, and nodded. "Ah, well, better late than never my darling, we're not going anywhere anytime soon." He knocked on the wooden counter with a small grin.

"And thankfully, you have the chance to redeem yourself, by making the right choice," he grinned and held out his hand, "Would you like to dance?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

Roxie decided, as another smile rose to her face at the sight of him winking (the charming bastard), that she definitely loved this place. She hadn't smiled so much in half an hour save for moments with her animals or to applause in...well, three years or so. Give or take a year. She would think harder on when exactly it was, but she was in much more interesting company and that was a less than happy thought.

"This is true." She agreed, glancing around her, "I guess you'll just have to fill in for me." Again she laughed at his line, wiggling her finger at him as she took another drink. "You say this now; just wait until you get to know me a little better."

Actually Roxie believed she was a rather lovable person and all, but it was fun to joke back and forth with him anyways. She believed this a good continuation of her night, if he continued to be as sexy and expressive and charming and...yum. Simple. If he continued to be 'yum'.

"True story. Are you always down here picking up beautiful people?" This was an important question, she supposed. After all if she was just a number then...this would be a lot less fun. "Oh, I love chances to redeem myself. Let's." She was about to go and dance herself anyways, and so with a last large drink of her cocktail she set the glass on the counter with a sweet thank you, and took the offered hand to help her off the seat. Heading to the floor though, she turned suddenly and asked, "Wait. I probably should be prerequisited that with 'depends...are you any good?'"
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"I will certainly do my best," he responded with a small grin as she said he'll have to fill in for her, in a manner that of course was meant to convey that Miguel would be honored to do so. He didn't have many 'owner duties' to attend to other than making sure the club didn't burn down and he could make sure of that while paying his full and undivided attention to Roxanne. A name which, consequently, he had immediately taken a liking to. He would have to watch out to make sure he didn't use it too often, or else appear creepy.

Yeah, right, he probably wouldn't be able to seem like that even if he tried.

"Oh, I'm sure it only gets better from here," he remarked both teasingly and sincerely. These back and forth comments were all too amusing and all too natural; this was proving to be a lot of fun as well as aesthetically pleasing because goddamn was this woman beautiful. Besides, the more they talked, the more she moved her lips, the more opportunity he had to look at them. They were quite...prominent.

"I tend to be down here often, yes, but picking up beautiful people?," his lips quirked in the ironic truth of his answer, "Rarely." Though it wasn't really by conscious choice; he met beautiful people in clubs often, but the ones he 'picked up' tended to be in the weirdest of places.

"Great," he remarked as she agreed to dance with him, walking with her to the dancefloor after she set her drink and then laughed as she turned around and asked him a question. "You probably should have," he agreed before grinning. "How about I let you be the judge of that?" Eyebrows rising, he grinned yet again as he started walking away, leading her to the dance floor before he quickly pulled at her arm, the intent being to spin her into him before he put his arms on her hips, and danced along to the beat.
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Roxanne Hurtig

"That's all I ask." Roxie told him, brushing a hand through her curls to make sure they weren't getting too tight in the heat of the club. It wasn't so hot around the bar area, but with the way she liked to dance and the number of people on the floor, it seemed like that was about to change. Heat got her hair to tighten faster than botox did to a repeat customer's skin.

It was definitely a talent of his to be able to compliment her continuously without seeming like he was trying too hard, and seeming completely genuine at the same time. She smiled up at him, unable to stop herself from answering, "Well, that's what I like to think but a little cockiness goes a long way with the mind."

Unbelievable, what some people made up in their heads about situations.

"Oh, good answer." That was exactly what she wanted to hear, though a variety of other words would have sufficed. This one had just the right about of wry tonality and a believable truth first. Whether or not he did that on purpose, she had no idea. She just knew it worked. "It's a shame. You seem to have a lot of them around." But then again, as the boss it might have been weird. "And by shame I mean lucky, because that means I get you."

He could decipher that any way he pleased.

She was teasingly suspicious of him as he refused to answer her straight out and continued to lead her to the floor, but men did one of three things in light of dancing. They either a. said that they didn't dance whatsoever and avoided it like the plague, b. didn't have any real talent with it but would agree to go on the dance floor if begged to shuffle around, or c. they were bloody fantastic dancers...and they knew it. Roxie figured Miguel was the latest, laughing in surprised delight as she spun on her heels into his arms, her own running up to rest against his shoulders with her fingers playing in the hair at the back of his neck.

"So. Tell me three important things about yourself."
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Miguel was smooth; he knew this to be true. Suave and debonair and charming were words that were frequently used to describe him, in a positive manner at least. And he was glad that it was working, though he knew it always would, because the reason his lines and actions and gestures were believable was because they really were the truth. The truth, just dressed in more appropriate and appealing wardrobe. So when Roxanne commended him on his answer, he only grinned and nodded his head. He tried not to come off as too smug less she get the wrong idea. The only reason why he was smug was because he was complimenting him on being himself, whereas most men upon meeting a woman for the first time were hardly honest save for their name.

"That is actually superficially purposeful though- we do tend to hire the best looking people," he chuckled and tilted his head to one side while his eyebrows rose at Roxanne's next comment. Delighted and amused by the comment, he replied, "Feel free to do whatever you want with me then, but only if you'll let me return the favor of course." Clearly, they could both use phrases that could mean a variety of different things.

Miguel was Spanish. By most common definitions, this meant that he knew how to dance, it was just one of those stereotypes that ended up being totally and honestly true. Grinning once more as Roxanne laughed as he spun her into him, Miguel easily followed the beat of the song, swaying and moving when appropriate.

"Important," he repeated, a bit confused by that particular adjective but he would try his best. "Well, I'm a pretty active person, hyper actually, would be the best word to use but that always makes me think of children on sugar or little chihuahua dogs," he shrugged before laughing, and shook his head. "I'm allergic to cashews, that's pretty important, as the threat of anaphylactic shock tends to be, and I...try everything at least once." There, those would be satisfying right?

"And yourself?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

"Well in this industry looking good is half the paycheck." Roxie commented dryly, thinking about the damn fishnets she had shrunk into a tiny little bag shrunk into her bra. A lot of any kind of performance was a lot about appearance; you have to be pleasing to look at while everyone enjoys your goods, whether it be your voice or instrumental skills, or, most importantly, your body itself. She supposed these dancers had it the worst of all; they were being judged totally on their looks and how they used them.

Luckily, fashion was something that Roxie loved to play around with. Tonight she was calm, if only because she had wanted a more classic type - in order to remind her "agent" that she wasn't trying to sell her look solely - and the ability to variate from simplicity instead of the expected 'crazy' factor. She wanted "fun", not "fuckable".

"Hm. Required giving along with the taking, give yourself some points." This she said with a grin, waving her hand as if to swat away the comment and instead focus on the way he was leading her to dance and his three important things. The song was a catch one, a good beat-ed top song that had her singing under her breath as they moved to it.

"You're a chihuahua." Well that was...an interesting way to put it. High energy was a good thing. She shook her head, grinning as she answered, "Well...I'm a performer my self, but I'm a singer and...clothes-on dancer. ...I own a ranch outside of London, Thunder Ranch? It's known for breeding England's prestigious thoroughbreds. And..." Her eyebrow went up as she glanced off to the side before looking back at him and finishing, "I'm a black belt."
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"Just a little bit more than half," he mentioned, nodding in agreement with the sentiment at least. It was true; nobody wanted to look at an ugly person dancing, or serving you your drinks. And most of the time, it didn't matter how much talent you had if you were ugly- you still weren't getting hired. Unless your talent was having an amazing radio voice, where no one actually had to see your face, in which case yes, a job would be easier to get. It was a tough business, dog eat dog.

"Oh, I'm all about being fair," was his simple comment on that particular topic. Fairness and equality and sharing and caring and all that wonderful stuff. In all honesty, however, he was mostly just a big fan of complimenting and ego inflating. Probably because he himself knew how pleasant a boost it was, and if the 'what you give is what you get' idiom was accurate, then he was also doing himself a favor. Miguel also liked win-win situations.

"Right, just a lot taller, less annoying," he responded, not in the least bit abashed about it. Yes, he was a chihuahua, and a sugar high toddler, and the energizer bunny; he could keep going with the similes all night I necessary.

Singer and 'clothes-on dancer', that made him grin in amusement, and then nodded as she to talk, "I think I've heard of it yes...country girl, then?", he asked with a grin on his face, definitely amused with the fact. She looked far from being a country girl, and yet...well his mind automatically went to the boots, the hat, the plaid shirts, the jeans...it was a nice image. A nice image kicked away and replaced by another image of her breaking a slab of wood with her hand.

"Alright, now that you have me properly intimidated," he began with a slight tease, chuckling as he kept dancing to the song. "I like women who could kick my ass," his lips twitched before he asked, "In karate? Tae Kwan Do?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

"For this." Roxie supplied, making a little face as she explained, "I'd like to think that some of the money performers get are for their actual talents." Though she could appreciate the strength of pole dancing, definitely. Honestly it was making her curious if she had the arm and leg strength to do something like that. Yes, she was a very, very active person and was known to carry several fifty-pound bags of feed around so she didn't have to take multiple trips, but it was a different kind of action working against gravity.

But that was a thought for another day.

Roxie inclined her head at Miguel's comment about being fair, happy to hear that he wasn't one of those 'give me what I want and get the hell out' kind of guys. She hadn't really expected that anyways; he just had a look on him that begged 'love me, I'm awesome' in a completely non dangerous way. Little Chihuahua, indeed. "A lot a lot taller, definitely."

And then she could practically heard the wheels turning in his head as he considered her "three important things", grinning again at the title. "On week days, yes."

However when he decided to look just a little bit surprised at her last truth, she had to laugh. "You like women who could kick your ass?" Naturally. She found anyways that she gave off a fragile enough image that having something like that up her sleeve was a good thing. "Actually, it's Kajukenbo. It's a mixture of Ka-rate, Ju-do/Ju-jitsu, Ken-po, and Bo-xing."
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Cisinerros #5/ Thing 2
Miguel nodded, "For this," he repeated in agreement. Well, he thought it also was like that for more aspects of the entertainment business as well, but that was pessimistic thinking (or maybe realistic thinking), whereas Roxanne seemed to think about it in a relatively optimistic way. It was a refreshing point of view though, he couldn't lie; it was a lot more difficult to find optimistic people these days. The most optimistic person he knew was....himself. So, if that wasn't an indication of how bad things were, he didn't know what was.

And not only was Roxanne optimistic, she was also apparently a country girl five days a week. So by a good definition, that meant she was outdoorsy- another difficult trait to find. He knew that personally- he was outdoors frequently and never had he had the pleasure of stumbling upon or encountering a woman as gorgeous as this on any outside related activities. Well, not counting tanning or lounging on the beach. She worked with horses she said, thoroughbreds actually...so many opportunities for lines and jokes there- but he was behaving.

Because even a true stallion broke with the right maste- alright, he digressed, he couldn't help it.

"Sure, means she can keep up," he grinned. And he couldn't deny his particular like of wrestling and...rather rough play. And a woman who was practiced in the martial art of...Kajunbo? Kabenju? Whatever, the pot luck of more common martial arts basically.

"I've never heard that before in my life," he admitted with a small laugh before he asked teasingly. "Are you sure you're not making this up?"
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Roxanne Hurtig

Roxie was seemingly gaining access to his 'good' list, because he seemed to find her criticisms useful, her view on things interesting, the fact she was a country girl fun, and that her ability to most likely knock him out was good because it meant she could 'keep up'. It made her shake her head in a little in pure amusement, not at all feeling like it was four, four-thirty in the morning whatsoever. No...it felt like she had just started the night.

"Oh, no worries. I can keep up." Well. She was a ranch worker by day and performer by night. Early mornings and late nights didn't hinder her; she had enough energy to continually do it for a week before she started collapsing. It was things like this that she allowed to energize and excite her. Her system just worked, completely.

However, when he joked that she wasn't telling the truth, Roxie rubbed her lips together and pulled him deeper into the crowd, spinning around a second later to twist his arm around her and knock him off balance. Once he was on the floor - though she made sure not to throw him too hard, given the fact that it wasn't a soft surface and he'd not done anything wrong to her - she knelt with one knee on his chest, her hands playfully entwining around his wrists she pinned to the floor, and blew him a kiss as she rose again and offered him her hand up. "Believe me now?"
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Miguel Cisinerros
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Cisinerros #5/ Thing 2
"I believe that," he commented sincerely, taking the moment to look her up and down once, seeing as how he had managed to restrain himself from doing it every single minute since he had begun to speak to her. It was almost unfair really, because the dress was all but screaming at everyone to turn their attentions to it, and most importantly the woman wearing said dress. Well, no doubt many would have thrown it a glance from afar, but he was the lucky one that was actually near. But with that luck came the fact that he had to behave. A bit. Sort of.

He wasn't allowed much time to appreciate the sights, however, because nearly three seconds later after he spoke out the teasing question of whether or not she was lying (he had a feeling she wasn't), he was looking back up at her from the ground. Mouthing a late 'oww' at how she twisted his arm, and raising his eyebrows as she had his wrists 'pinned' down, lips curving upwards momentarily. Chuckling once on an exhale at the kiss she blew him, he then shook his head in partial disbelief as she offered him her hand. Taking it, he stood up again, as he answered, "I...definitely believe you." Kajukenbo was some...pretty serious shit then.

He looked around, noticed that some of his employees had indeed witnessed the event, and turned to Roxanne, laughing a bit. "Well given the fact that you've...successfully managed to embarrass me in front of my staff and undermine my authority over them, you owe me," he grinned. "Have dinner with me."
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