Bouncing

[Elsa Bellefonte]

A tired Elsa stared down at the nonalcholic drink, wishing that her ability pertained to changing it into something much stronger. When she'd opted for this particular job, Elsa hadn't quite considered the sheer amount of work that would go into dancing and performing for people on a regular basis. Even getting primped up for everything took a good deal out of you, and Elsa felt utterly drained. Her hair fell about her shoulder in artful curls and her makeup was practically flawless, the tan actually working to her favor for the moment.

Those lips twisted into a smile as Elsa considered how people would take it if they knew. Erika did to some degree: she did the costumes, but she probably didn't want to directly address it. Let Elsa rebel in her own private fashion. The more staunch Bellefonte twin swirled the drink, once again willing it to ferment and once again feeling decidedly guilty about doing so. Recovering near-alcoholics shouldn't crave drinks as much as Elsa so often did, especially if they were nineteen.

As Elsa swirled, she felt someone slide into the seat beside her. That was to be expected. The looks made sense too: she had just been on stage.

The hand on her leg, on the other hand.

"You can move it, or I can call Nikolai over to remove it," Elsa replied, gesturing down the bar toward the imposing bartender. "I believe he knows three different ways to kill a man using just a thumb."

She turned her head slightly, looking toward the striking man, one Nikolai Volkov . They'd hit it off before, and she certainly felt comfortable using the thumb line. The man next to her was already following her gaze, and she could almost hear his swallow.

You're on, Mr. Volkov, Elsa thought, glad that she wasn't close enough to the man to quite send that via her power.

[Nikolai Volkov]

It was definitely busy hat night, but Nikolai had been up to the challenge. A beer here, a scotch there, and White Russian over there, and the list went on. Nikolai was perfectly content to go at the pace he wanted. Because really, who in their right mind would dare to challenge him? When it was his turn for the bartending shift, all the customers suddenly learned the meaning of patience. Or they learned what it felt like to kiss the concrete outside.

And during it all, Nikolai kept his ears listening. There was a certain advantage to being a bouncer as well as a bartending. Because then you could combine the two jobs without repercussions. And now seemed a good time to do so as he heard the familiar voice of a certain Dancer speaking to someone. By the tone of her voice, she didn't like whomever she was addressing. Nikolai turned to them, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly at Elsa before looking at the man.

"Problem?" He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. While Elsa knew he wasn't really that terrible since they had spoken before, the man didn't know that. And Nikolai wanted to look scary, he looked terrifying. Especially now; glaring over the counter wearing a shirt that definitely emphasized the muscles contained beneath his skin from all his hours of exercising.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"There may be," Elsa replied cheerily as Nikolai did his best looming Russian. She looked up at him, her brows raised, before shifting to look at the guy next to her. He had definitely moved his hand and was now eying Nikolai with some suspicion. Elsa fought against the urge to break out in another smile, her lips twitching with the sheer effort of keeping her expression more or less neutral.

"This gentleman was just going to offer to buy me a drink and then leave. He certainly is going to be keeping his hands to himself," Elsa replied airily enough, all while stirring her nonalcoholic drink. Was it horrible to take advantage of the situation to get alcohol? Probably. But she didn't think that Nikolai was quite aware of that, so she figured she'd go for it.

"I was just explaining to him about how many different uses you have for your thumbs," Elsa continued, looking over at Nikolai, sounding for all the world like she was at a particularly droll dinner party. "But I'm sure you can tell it better than I. While you're getting me that drink, of course. Something with a bit of kick and class would suit me quite well."

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai listened as Elsa explained what had happened, all while the man sitting next to her looked fearfully at Nikolai. The big russian had to admit that he was enjoying every second of this. Elsa probably wasn't telling the whole truth, but Nikolai was fine with that. He was a bouncer too, so protecting the other employees, especially the dancers and singers and waitresses, was his top priority. Besides, he enjoyed this far too much. When she mentioned all the things he could do with his thumb, Nikolai smirked at little. It was a running joke.

But he conceded and starting preparing the first thing that came to his head. Getting some apple flavoured vodka along with a number of other ingredients, Nikolai spoke as he worked. "Ah, yes. Many uses for thumb. Can be used for squeezing out juice from fruits. Make drinks." He said as he did just that into the drink he was preparing. "Can be used for tightening bolts and nuts on things at home." He kept speaking nonchalantly, seeming particularly unconcerned. "Can be used to cut off air supply, and break neck of annoying customers. Can help throw them out, and crush skull." He added in the same voice as he shook the liquid he had been preparing before straining it into a glass and pick you up a fresh apple slice he had prepared and pushing it onto the rim of the drink. He slid the finished delicious and cold Apple Martini over to Elsa with a smile before looking at the man with a shrug.

"Many uses, yes?" He said with a shrug and a smile that seemed to barely hide the danger behind it. Nikolai pointed to Elsa's drink. "Will put on tab. Very kind of you." He said

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa kept smiling as Nikolai went on with the act. Not that she hadn't seen variations of it before: you didn't hire a Russian who loomed over nearly everyone and not have him loom over people. It didn't make it any less enjoyable, especially as the guy started squirming more and more. His hands had most definitely gotten on top of the bar. The wincing looked particularly intense as Nikolai got to the real meat of his discussion, and Elsa hid her amusement with only slightly raised brows.

She took the drink as it was offered, raising it to salute the man. He made some excuses, mostly mumbled, and suddenly found he had other places to be. "I do believe," Elsa said, leaning back slightly to look, "that he had a decidedly wet patch in the general crotch area," she waited for a moment, then arched her brows and leaned back, looking back up at Nikolai.

the girl kept her hands on her drink, even took a sip, but then she did point something out: "You do realize I'm nineteen?" she pointed out. "So, legal," as if she'd have her job otherwise, "but not really allowed to drink something like this," and she took another sip, her eyes locked on his the whole time.

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai watched the small man scurry off with a wolffish grin, completely amused. And then when Elsa mentioned the particularly wet patch on his pants, Nikolai actually laughed and shook his head. "Do not think that one bother anyone tonight" he mused before looking at Elsa with a wide smirk. He had to admit it was fun being able to make a grown man piss himself just by talking. Konstantin would've been the suave one if he were here too, and probably let Nikolai be the scary one.

Nikolai was drawn back from his thoughts as Elsa mentioned that she was only nineteen and therefore shouldn't really be drinking. Nikolai raised an eyebrow and chuckled deeply, shaking his head. He found it stupid that the Americans had the whole legal part on the drinking age so high. It just made kids sneak around to try and drink. "In Russia, would be drinking age." He pointed out with a shrug and a smirk. "So do not care. I make you drink when want." He added with a wink before going back to working, making a few more drinks for other customers. "But if asked, I deny everything." He added with a grin as he popped a beer's cap off with his hands and slide it down to someone at the bar

[Elsa Bellefonte]

"No he will not," Elsa agreed, again looking in the general direction of the retreating man. She couldn't help but offer one last smile of amusement before turning back to the other thing that amused her. She still hadn't gotten quite a bead on this particular individual, beyond the very thick accent and very large body. Anymore it seemed almost odd to be talking with someone who didn't have powers either; she wasn't sure how to make the connection without offering up her last name. But even then, he'd surely connect the name to the school.

But for now, she had the drinking business to deal with. The honesty apparently amused more than anything, and she had to let out a slight laugh at the response. "You do have a point there," she agreed, nodding a few times. She reached for the offered drink, hesitating only a moment as he continued. "Ah, mum's the word," she promised, before raising a hand up and twisting it at her lips, as if to seal them. She took a sip, relishing the taste, telling herself to go slow. She set the drink down.

"I knew I liked you," she informed the man, looking up at him. "Even if I should be berating you for enabling a young woman. For shame, Nikolai, for shame," she waggled a finger at him, all while keeping it on her drink. Now that she had it, she most definitely was not giving it up.

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai wouldn't be surprised if he knew she didn't have a head on him yet. He didn't talk about himself much. Saying anything could bring up a lot of questions. How long was he in the army in Russia? Why did he leave? How did Konstantin die? Far too many questions, and Nikolai didn't feel like answering any of them. So he didn't talk much, and let himself be the big scary Russian mystery. It didn't bother him, and he knew what it was like to keep secrets. That's why he didn't ask too many personal questions. Other people had secrets too.

Nikolai grinned at her response and nodded, satisfied when she took the drink and understood what he meant. "You smart one." He said with a chuckle. And then she said she liked him, and also said she probably shouldn't be praising him for letting him drink. He only laughed at that and raised an eyebrow at her with a smirk. "Doubt could take drink away now if tried." He remarked drily, pointing to the drink she held so firmly in her hands. He didn't truly doubt he could take it away, but he didn't want to. She seemed responsible enough that Nikolai didn't mind in the slightest to serve her. "Besides, seem responsible enough."

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Just the surface thoughts that skipped along were intriguing. Something about being in the military and losing someone. Elsa was tempted, curious more than anything, to ask how a Russian ex-soldier had wound up as a bouncer in a bar in Montana. Perhaps if there was a lull in the conversation.

For now, she smiled at the compliment, smiled and saluted Nikolai with the drink before taking a sip. "They do say that," she supplied, the grin turning almost cheeky. And no, he probably couldn't take the drink away from her at this point. She had it gripped relatively tightly, though not quite like an alcoholic.

"Ah, so the carefully constructed ruse is still holding. Good to know," Elsa replied before taking another sip. "Do you really consider burlesque dancers to be responsible? I'd generally say the occupation breeds dishonest people," she raised her brows, knowing that the expression was more false than real: most of Elsa's coworkers were downright cheery and forthright.

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai chuckled at the cheeky reply, raising an eyebrow at the girl as he passed out another beer. "Call you humble too?" He fired back, teasing slightly as he kept working. This girl had always been interesting to Nikolai. She had a sharp wit, which he could certainly appreciate. It was nice having someone he could banter back and forth with who wasn't terrified of him.

He shrugged when she asked about his opinion on the burlesque dancers. Sure, maybe most people figured that only dishonest or scummy people did jobs like these. But Nikolai wasn't like most people in that regard. "Believe that responsibility depends on personality. Job does not matter, it is person that does. Could have any job and be responsible. Dancers no different. Job is job. Person is person." He explained as best as he could with a shrug. Although he didn't have the greatest etiquette to be able to voice his thoughts wondrously in the English language, it was what he thought. No matter where you were in life, you could pull yourself up. You could have a terrible job but still be a great person. Just unfortunate or stuck in that position

[Elsa Bellefonte]

Elsa bowed her head slightly at the mention of "humble," ducking her head and adding a slight hand wave as she did. She saw no reason to argue the point: it came with the last name, as far as she was concerned. Only Erika seemed to be immune to that, and it was debatable just how immune she happened to be. Besides, who didn't like having their ego fanned?

Or engaging in something like a philosophical conversation, apparently. Elsa raised her brow as the man continued, insisting that jobs and responsibility didn't necessarily go hand in hand. "Someone's certainly a free thinker," Elsa said, letting out another dry laugh. "But jobs represent social class to some degree, and like it or not, there's obligations attached to those. It's the way of the world," she said the last with a sort of weary, amused acceptance, before taking another swig of her drink.

She looked away at the end of it, back to the stage. He didn't actually know her full name or wealth, apparently. Did that mean he thought she was just a responsible dancer? Elsa looked back at him, her expression mildly curious. "So I take it that I look like quite the responsible burlesque dancer?" She gave a little, slightly suggestive shimmy at that, before cracking yet another half-smile.

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai listened as she spoke, and cracked a smirk at her words. She seemed so wise for one so young. "True." He consented with a respectful nod of his head. He wasn't going to argue that much, given that he wouldn't be able to word everything he wanted perfectly. And she seemed weary, so he didn't want to push her too much. He could understand being tired after the job.

She seemed to be considering something, judging from the way she looked away. Nikolai held his silence until she wanted to speak again as he continued his work. When she spoke again, he turned his head to look and caught the little shimmy. It made him chuckle again and shake his head. "I think you responsible, yes. But have feeling you do something else that more challenge for mind. Correct?" He asked, glancing at her with a half-smile of his own

[Elsa Bellefonte]

True. The man may not say much, but he certainly was willing to invest every bit with meaning, wasn't he? Elsa had to smile at that, playing with her drink a little more. Yes, she was weary: life had a way of doing that, her life especially loved to treat her like its own personal punching bag. There was just a lot there to consider.

Thankfully she could throw people off with this little job, not to mention a slight shimmy. Nikolai again reasserted the bit about her being responsible, this time insisting that there was more. Elsa smirked. "I'm a coed, if that's what you're wondering," she offered inclining the drink toward him and pointing before taking another sip. "Undecided major, but I'm taking dance classes."

Though Elsa knew she wasn't going to stake her future on her dancing skills. She was good, quite a good deal better than most. But professional? She'd be lucky to get parts in a chorus, and she certainly couldn't sing or act to back it up. no, she'd find another path: the dancing was just an outlet.

[Nikolai Volkov]

Nikolai much preferred action to words. It was simply what he had been taught and what he believed. So when he said something, he normally made it mean something, especially since he still wasn't as fluent with his english. Even back home he was more content to just listen instead of speak much. Like he was doing now as Elsa talked about being coed. "Much potential then." Nikolai stated at her choice of major. Elsa could pick whatever she wanted without pressure. "Sure you will excel, whatever chosen."

Nikolai hadn't had much of a choice in his job, but he hadn't complained either. He had been good at his job, so it hadn't bothered him. He was sure Elsa would do fine when she chose what she'd do. He just had a feeling.

[Elsa Bellefonte]

The drink was disappearing, which was unfortunate. Elsa didn't want to ask for more: she was fairly certain that she shouldn't have even had this one. the warmth it had given her didn't quite feel like an old friend, more like what it was: a drug that she should have kicked some time ago. The girl had a feeling that she was always going to have this fun little fight with alcohol and alcoholism now, a thought that certainly did not lift her spirits.

Fortunately, Nikolai's praise did better at that. Elsa smiled and bowed her head slightly, acknowledging the statement. "That is the plan," she admitted, shifting slightly again. "So that's me. What about you?" she pointed a finger at him. "What causes a Russian built like a bodybuilder to end up as a bouncer in a little burlesque club in a college town in Montana," she listed off the various prepositions and ended with raised brows, her curiosity quite evident on her face.