Maddy Rigby (maddyrigby) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-03-04 20:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | maddy rigby, ~ro clark |
A Good Red
Who: Maddy, Ro
What: Chilling, Talking
When: Present, Evening
Where: Fuku Burger Food Truck at Brewery
Warnings: Language
Fuku Burger’s food truck, an offshoot of their brick and mortar operation in Chinatown, was billed as the city's first gourmet food truck with the best burgers around. The menu had an American/ Japanese fusion vibe. Beef patties were the big draw, but Maddy was in it for the Naga Dog, which was a 1/3lb hot link topped with grilled kimchi, daikon relish, wasabi mayo, spicy kabayaki and harinori strips. She routinely checked their Instagram page to find out where they’d be and showed up with an appetite, especially if they were parked somewhere she also wanted to go, like a brewery with a patio and fire pits. Because it was Vegas, a couple of street performers were wowing people near the cornhole and tabletop Jenga area.
Maddy had taken up residence in a wooden Adirondack chair near a fire pit with a hot dog on one arm of the chair and a pint of amber ale on the other. She curled her legs up in the seat. A pair of lace hose poked through the knees of her jeans. Inside the brewery, some chick was wailing away with a guitar. Whenever someone came out with a beer, Maddy could hear the twangy sound of the woman’s instrument and laughter.
Ro wandered out from the brewery, clutching a pint glass. She wasn't sure if she felt like bothering to go home with someone tonight and slipping outside was a good way to escape some attention she wasn’t feeling up for. The food truck outside was more enticing than the man inside. Ro's loyalty to the Stripcheeze truck was unshakable but she'd never turn her nose up at a burger and fries. Or in this case, their version of the Hawaiian loco moco, a dish of hamburger, egg, and gravy served on rice. Also fries. Because you had to have fries.
Ro was on her way to order when she bumped into...something. Looking around, she saw she had brushed against a woman's legs, slung near the side of a chair. "Sorry," she apologized. "Didn't see you."
“That’s a first,” Maddy announced. She generally made herself hard to miss, between her bottle-blonde hair, electric lipstick, and vocal levels when she went a little too deep into the tequila. “Maybe I should take things up a notch.” She picked up the hot dog between two fingers and took a healthy bite. Relish dropped off the opposite end, but she caught it in a napkin within her free palm. This wasn’t her first rodeo.
She swallowed. “Hey, if you come back this way, would you mind dropping off a napkin?” Maddy smiled and licked wasabi mayo off her thumb. “This thing’s a mess.”
Ro's eyebrows came up and she smiled a little. "Hey, no problem." She wasn’t dressed for attention tonight: no makeup and tattoos hidden beneath a leather jacket. "I like your lipstick by the way. I love a good red." Her smile widened and she stepped away towards the food truck.
It took several minutes but as promised, Ro eventually returned clutching a tray and a handful of napkins. She handed the napkins over and then offered access to her tray. "Fry?"
“Ooh, hell yeah.” Maddy reached up to take one, groaning in delight over the taste of garlic and what Fuku had aptly named their ‘crack sauce’. She washed it down with a sip of beer and said, “So good. Hey... the dude who was sitting there’s gone.” The blonde pointed at a nearby chair. “If you don’t mind your knees being higher than your ass. I personally feel like Adirondack chairs are hit-or-miss for a brewery. On the one hand, you can pass out in them in relative comfort. On the other, good luck climbing out of one while drunk.”
Maddy carefully wiped her mouth and set the tray and napkins on the ground.
"And sitting down," Ro added. She set about doing just that, a process that involved holding her tray up high to keep it level until she collapsed with a grunt into it. She stretched her legs out in front of her. There was something that looked like flour on her pant leg. "Well, shit. I'm a lady now."
“You weren’t before?” Maddy’s fingers picked up her pint glass of beer by the rim and she took a sip. She wasn’t convinced this was the right flavor to go with hot dog, but what craft beer was? Her head rested against the wooden slats of the chair, blunt-tipped blonde hair fanning out. She was in a near state of relaxation when a corn hole bag went skidding under her chair. “What the fuck—?”
“Sorry!” called its owner, who scampered over to collect it, squatting down and stretching an arm underneath.
“For real?” Maddy sat up. “If you get any closer to my ass you’re gonna need lube.” She fished the bag out herself and tossed it across the patio. “Oh my god.”
Ro laughed and gave the guy a fingertip wave as he slunk away. "Nicely handled," she said, raising her beer to the other woman. "I'm Arrow."
“Maddy,” she said, waggling her fingers. “Not to be weird, but… what happened to your pants?” The blonde gestured at the white residue. “Top three guesses: powdered wig, Mrs. Doubtfire cosplay, horrific waste of blow.”
"I don't know," Ro said slowly. "If I was doing that much blow that I had it on my pants, is it really a waste?" She laughed. "You forgot donut factory and Sherlock Holmes reenactor dusting for fingerprints. Want to guess again or should I tell you?"
“Mmm one more.” Maddy leaned up in her chair and stroked her chin. “Anthrax postal terrorist.” Her smile was a flash of bright, white teeth behind her lipstick. She took another taste of her beer, deciding since it was warming up to drink all the way to the bottom. Her throat bobbed as she gulped. When the glass was empty, she tucked it underneath her chair so nobody could break it by accident.
Ro switched from her fries to her loco moco, digging into the rice and gravy. "Maybe I'm one of those assholes that ages thrift store furniture so I can charge people hundreds of dollars more than it's worth because it's whatever shabby chic is." She shrugged. "Or I'm a pastry chef and it's flour. I usually have something on me. Flour, chocolate, custard…"
“I imagine the custard raises eyebrows…” Maddy shook that thought away. “It’s funny, you’re still wearing the same pants you left work in? There is no way in hell I’d do that. I work part-time in a bar. You wouldn’t believe what I come in contact with. Yick.” She faked a full body shiver. “My other job’s working with costumes, which is cleaner.”
"At a bar?" Ro's mouth turned up. "I'm assuming you mean everyone else's self loathing?"
“As it turns out, self-loathing smells a lot like sweat and urine,” Maddy said. “I’d go on but I don’t want to put you off your gravy.” She smiled. “It’s actually pretty chill, but our bartenders have a flair for serving funky drinks. One never knows how they’re going to go down.”
"Yeah, that tracks," agreed Ro. "You do costumes? For one of the shows? Or for what?"
“A bunch of shows,” she said. “It’s a costume and theatrical supply business. I went to the California College of the Arts and did not one, not two, but three unpaid internships so I could design bejeweled bras and modern-day codpieces.” Maddy raised her eyebrows. “Custom-fit!”
"Well of course," Ro said straight faced. "No one likes a saggy cod."
“Who are you tellin’?” Maddy gave Ro time to eat her… whatever that menu item was called, her eyes drifting to the street performers at the edge of the seating area. “What brought you here tonight?”
"Oh same as anybody else," Ro said around bites of hamburger patty. "Food. Good beer. A complete inability to sit around my apartment alone and bored." She did not add anything about decisions to avoid or indulge in feeding. "You?"
“I’m a way over the top extravert,” Maddy explained. “So even if I don’t have plans, I want to be around other people’s plans. Otherwise I’ll end up talking to Internet trolls or sending a nude to an ex or something.” She shrugged.
"Okay, don't text your exes," Ro said immediately. "They're never worth all that." She waved a finger up and down at Maddy for emphasis.
“Agree.” Maddy sighed. “They’re usually in the rearview for a reason, but one does get bored, hence,” she gestured around herself, “The company. I don’t even have an ex I miss, but better an ex than a hot coworker. Hey, you know what should exist?” Maddy leaned toward the front of the chair. “Some chick you can text, like, ‘hey, can I send you a pic of my ass so I don’t send it to so-and-such,’ and she says ‘yeah sure, I’m just making some Ramen,’ and then you send it, and she just gives you a bunch of body-positive compliments.”
Ro leaned forward, tray shifting on her lap. "Trade ramen for French pastry and that's almost my entire skill set. Also, pro tip for boredom, try pastry. Works for me."
“Oooh.” Maddy was intrigued. She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “Sweet or savory? I’m better at eating than preparing, but I could use a new hobby. I tried to Google one and the top new trends were beetle fighting and extreme ironing! I wish I was kidding.”
"Marble runs are also good," Ro offered. The things they did with marbles on YouTube was more impressive than what Ro remembered of the toys as a child.
"But yeah, I can cook savory but for sheer satisfaction or when you need to turn your brain off, nothing beats rolling out puff pastry. Or at least pie crust if you need to find a place to start." Ro paused and then offered, "I could show you."
“Really?” Maddy had been imagining marble runs, and that time she got obsessed with video game speedruns, but the offer popped her back into the moment. Her creative, hands-on side was intrigued. “That’d be awesome. I don’t usually get to eat the things I make. Unless… Hey.” She pointed a warning fingertip in Ro’s direction. “I’m not baking unless I get to eat afterward. Is it still called baking when it’s fancy? I once called this chick a jogger instead of a runner and she took my head off.”
"I'm not going to get upset if you call me a baker instead of a pastry chef because I am not a douchebag," Ro said with an eyebrow raise. "And eating it is half the fun. You make something beautiful and then have the satisfaction of consuming it."
“Mm… I rarely get to wear what I make,” Maddy said. “But if you ever need a costume? I’m your girl. For Halloween or whatever you get up to.” She smiled, then her eyes widened comically. “Ooh! A collab. Edible costumery.” A sandbag thumped against her chair leg again. Maddy picked it up and tossed it behind herself. The dull thud indicated it was on the low roof of the brewery.
"Yes," Ro agreed emphatically. "Macaron bra. I am all about it." A protest from the owner of the wayward beanbag interrupted them. Ro took a look at the man's annoyed face and jumped in quick. People were less likely to stay mad at her.
"Sorry about that," she said, smiling wide and pulling the man's attraction forward. "Maybe they can get you another one inside?"
"Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could grab you a drink while I'm there?" the man asked hopefully.
Less likely to be angry at Ro did come with its drawbacks. She kept her smile friendly even while shaking her head. "I'm good. Babe," she added, looking at Maddy, "you need anything?"
The man's face fell and he shortly shambled away. "Sorry," Ro said to Maddy. "That seemed the easiest way to handle that."
Maddy laughed. “No apology required.” She leaned back in her chair. “The roof is the least problematic place I could’ve put that bag.” She bit her thumbnail lightly. There was no fear on her face. Maddy knew she had a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Though rarely wielded in plain sight, it gave her a brash attitude someone of her size and stature might not typically feel. Besides, the cornhole set was across the patio, so who was the real asshole?
“Do you do that a lot? Smile to get your friends out of trouble?” The question was asked with simple curiosity. Maddy was pretty, a chameleon with mischief in her eyes and a charming voice when she wanted it to be. Ro’s looks were something different. There was a kind of open sexuality about her features that was hard to pinpoint, but Maddy bet she had to work to turn it off.
"Sure," Ro answered with casual ease. "Out of trouble, free drinks or cover charges, invitations onto rich guys' boats, whatever. People like to give me things. Sometimes it can be a little much but," she shrugged in a 'what can you do?' gesture. The false modesty expected of women was almost pointless to Ro. Playing like she didn't know what she looked like defied logic. Instead she exerted control over the way she was perceived when she could: in her hair, dress, tattoos, or when she chose to make people aware of their attraction to her. She wouldn't mind if Maddy was. Ro liked her style and she was gorgeous.
"So if you're looking for a refill and don't want to pay, if you give me a minute inside I can make that happen. Or if you want we could go and I can teach you how to make a pie."
Maddy retrieved her glass and studied the faint ring of leftover beer at the bottom of it, considering if she was thirsty. Had she ever made an actual pie? There was a foggy memory of a grandparent rolling out dough. The memory had been shoved behind more colorful ones of getting into loud, muddy mischief with neighborhood children while their mothers shouted into their yards, and of her own parents eating takeout with their shoulders hunched at keyboards. “Let’s make a pie,” she said. Maddy unfolded her legs and got up. “What do you think is the best flavor?”