Noa Bellamy (sharpthings) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2017-04-10 23:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2020 [04] april, bode coldiron, noa bellamy |
Who: Noa Bellamy and Bishop Coldiron
Where: Bishop and Bunny's
What: Noa and Bishop talk. Mostly about life, but other things too.
When: [slight forward-date] 4/5/20, early evening
“A little birdy let slip that you’re thinking about a business,” Noa greeted Bishop, once the MC’s President, and potential brewer closed the front door behind her. “Is that just talk?” She smiled at him, with a question in her expression. It had been one of the MC members that had started in with it when he had stopped by Rendition, but Noa tried not to put too much on hearsay. It surprised her sometimes still how connecting with her friends and family took more effort than it did when they were all stacked on each other. But it also surprised her how much more solid she felt about those friendships now, even with distance. Sometimes Bishop felt like MC’s weren’t much different than small towns, word seemed to spread like wildfire in both of them. “Ain’t just talk,” Bishop clarified as he lead Noa into the living room. Jackson and Lincoln were settled in their baby pen, or more accurately the near one year olds were busy trying to find the weak spot so that they could escape -- or at least that’s what Bishop always thought when the two of them were huddled near one of the joints on the pen. “Reckon it’s ‘bout time I go straight with making ‘shine,” he continued while he dropped down into one of the overstuffed chairs. “And maybe branch out some into beers.” Though truth be told he didn’t have the first clue how to make beer, though he supposed it couldn’t be harder than moonshine. “Which one of the Dogs told you this anyway?” It had to have been a Hellhound, because besides Hazel, Cherry and Ms. Russo nobody else was aware of his plans. Curling herself into a corner of the couch, Noa made the universal gesture that meant her lips were sealed. “I’m not going to rat out my sources,” she told Bishop. “Besides, I suspect you ain’t real mad about it getting out anyway.” She smiled, somehow both surprised and not surprised at all that it was true. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you’re keeping your source a secret,” Bishop said with a laugh as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and added, “I ain’t.” He confirmed with a nod. “Is my business venture the only reason you came over here? Or do I get to hear how you’ve been doing lately?” Bishop felt like it had been eons since they had caught up and in all honesty it probably had been. “It was a big reason,” she replied. “I thought I could offer my expertise as a current business owner in Austin.” However narrow it was, she had learned a lot from the months she’d been running Rendition. “I don’t suppose your business before was real worried about the financials looking good,” she added with a wink. Bishop lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. “Are you saying you don’t think the family business was legit?” he asked with amusement in his tone, which was met by Noa’s raised eyebrows and a smirk. “Don’t know if I should be offended or impressed, ‘cause you ain’t wrong. You could say our books were creative.” And by creative he meant mostly fabricated and labeled as something entirely different -- after all his momma’s business wasn’t even remotely legal. “Reckon you already know I’m open to getting whatever advice from you that I can,” Bishop added. Noa had on more than one occasion been the person he turned to when his head needed sorting out, he could count on her to be straight with him while also being thoughtful in her response. It was careful and deliberate the way she kept from saying anything about her life lately; Noa wanted to keep the attention on Bishop and his endeavors. Although, she knew she couldn’t hold off answering his questions indefinitely. However Bishop’s keen observation skills didn't miss how Noa artfully stepped around talking about herself. This wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, where he would have to skillfully try and get the tattooist to open up to him. Noa played her cards close to her chest, she always had. “I’m not going to just spill my thoughts all over you, honey,” she told him, still smiling a little. “You’re capable of running things, I know.” She had seen his leadership in more than one situation within the last year, and couldn’t say she’d ever been disappointed by his approach to things. “But owning something is a little different than trying to keep no-good bikers from causing anarchy.” “Don’t mean I don’t need wise counsel, darlin’,” Bishop countered with a smirk. “And you know I ain’t against you offering any and all insight you have, even if it did come out as you spilling all your thoughts.” Their friendship was the kind of friendship where they both knew the other could say exactly what was on their mind, a fact Bishop was always incredibly thankful for. “And you ain’t wrong, owning something ain’t anything like trying to keep bikers from going back to their old ways.” Thankfully after the rogues had been taken care of nobody else pushed back against the club’s new direction, but it was still a thought on Bishop’s mind more often than not. In a lot of ways Bishop wanting to open a brewery reminded her how Jonny had always been so set on making sure that his bike shop was one hundred percent above board and away from club dealings. But in the sense that she recognized some similarities; the Hellhounds didn’t have any secrets left to hide. For a moment it seemed as if Noa’s thoughts were elsewhere and he allowed her that time before he dove back into the conversation. “Reckon I’ll have to hire some kind of proper staff, which I ain’t ever done before.” But Noa had, so he was all ears to know just how she tackled that task. “Make sure you vet them well,” Noa replied wryly, thinking sharply about the man she’d had working for her for a short time. The same one that had been setting fires to the Greenbelt, and she had never had a clue. She knew it wasn’t all on her, that more than likely any digging she would have done wouldn’t have brought anything up, but it still stung a little that the person had been right under her nose. “Reckon I can’t go putting ‘em through a prospecting process,” Bishop joked with a faint smirk. The idea pulled a laugh from Noa, and a shake of her head. He knew that wasn’t the sort of vetting Noa was talking about. Hiring was more paperwork and reference phone calls than stupid tasks and sparkly pink helmets. He wondered though if some of her words had anything to do with the guy who’d been setting fire to the Greenbelt. “Also, you know it ain’t your fault you hired one of the arsonists, right?” Bishop spoke up. “They did a damn good job of hiding who they were.” “I know,” she replied. “Try to hire outside of the Dogs, too. I suspect that’ll look better for you.” The Hellhounds were still doing damage control when it came to their image; she doubted that would be a thing in the past anytime soon. Bishop gave a nod. “Most of the Dogs work for the construction business we’ve been running,” he said. “And none of ‘em have ever seemed real keen on learning the moonshine business.” Still it was good advice to look outside of the club for employees. If the whole of Austin were going to see them differently they needed to prove they weren’t an isolated group unwilling to integrate into the general public. “Right now I ain’t even at the hiring process yet. Hell, I ain’t even got a building yet.” That was happening soon, but right now it was all just a concept in his head. “Think naming the place might be the hardest part for me,” Bishop admitted with a laugh. “Might have to give that over to more creative minds.” “Nothing says it has to be creative, honey. You could name it Coldiron Brewing, and I don’t suspect anyone would look at you sideways for that.” Naming her own business had been easy for Noa, since she’d always been dreaming about her own shop in the back of her mind. She had always kind of figured Outlaw wasn’t going to be her forever, as much as she loved her guys. “There’s always something to do with Kentucky, too. Honor your mama, if you want.” Bishop gave a nod. “You make a good point,” a pause. “Mags’ Brewing ain’t that bad of a name.” After all, if it hadn’t been for his mama he never would have ended up with the sort of knowledge he’d need to open a brewery in the first place. The idea sent a pang through him over the fact she would probably never see it, but at least there would a be a piece of something in Austin that bore her name and reminded him of his family. “Now, we’ve talked about my big life happenings,” Bishop started with a faint smile. “It’s your turn, darlin’.” The look she gave him said everything that she wouldn’t verbalize. I know you’re digging, but I’m going to let it slide, and so on. “I ain’t going to fly any banners,” she began, “but life’s good. It’s steady. I got a thing going.” Noa didn’t try to hold back the happy smile that crept onto the corners of her mouth. “It ain’t conventional, but it works for the three of us.” It was the first time in awhile that she’d felt like she wasn’t facing down everything on her own, which friends she could call on if she needed them. Sure, it was a little scary in the unpredictability, but life was always going to be a little scary. Despite himself, despite the fact that Bishop tried to make his expressions hard to read, he couldn’t help the way his eyebrows rose when Noa mentioned having ‘a thing’ and that it worked for ‘the three of them’. His surprise didn’t come because it was unconventional, no, it came because he had half expected Noa to never mention if she had someone in her life or not. Talking about her personal business had never been her thing. “A thing, huh?” He remarked with the faintest of smirks. “Reckon you ain’t going to be saying anymore than that, are you?” Bishop wouldn’t pry for anymore information than what Noa had just given him. “Gotta say whoever the two people are, they’re damn lucky to have you,” he paused. “I’m real happy for you, darlin’,” another pause. “So long as they’re treating you right that is.” Letting what Bishop said hang in the air, after a moment or two Noa broke into small smile. “If you’re real curious about how I’m being treated, you can talk to your VP.” The smile that had cropped up shifted into a smirk. “Or your Tail Gunner.” Noa knew it was important that she felt healed from everything that had happened the year before. She knew that the people that were still in her life had made a big difference in where she was at. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Bishop muttered in surprise. While he might have been surprised, he wasn’t shocked. The three of them had always had what looked like from the outside a solid friendship, which many would say was the foundation to a good relationship. “I ain’t too concerned if they’re who you’ve taken up with.” Both were people Bishop trusted without fail, if he didn’t they wouldn’t sit around the counsel table. It went deeper than that though, they were friends of his, people he considered family in a lot of ways. If anyone was going to treat Noa well, it was the Scherbatsky’s. Raising an eyebrow, Noa only just contained a reaction. She schooled everything but that eyebrow into careful neutrality. “I’ll make sure they know you approve,” she retorted dryly, like Bishop was an older brother that had given his blessing. “To be honest, I’m happier with the little things, than the big things, though.” she moved swiftly from talk of her personal life, steering them back to safer territories. He nodded. “It’s easy to be awed by the big things, but I’m starting to learn it’s the little things that stick with you,” Bishop smiled. “This is about to make me sound real damn sappy, but there ain’t anything better than when my boys look up at me and smile like they know they’ve damn near gone and stolen my whole heart.” Leaning over, she squeezed Bishop’s knee. “Honey, there ain’t anything wrong with saying that. We have to hold on to the little, happy things in order to make it through.” With as much practice as they all had at doing that, sometimes a reminder or two was still appropriate. “But if you’re worried, your secret is safe with me.” Bishop chuckled. “I ain’t worried ‘bout it getting out.” If anything it might soften the hardened criminal image he had in Austin a bit. “You know I reckon we’re both making it through okay now, though,” he added. A lot of things had changed in the last year, most, if not all of it for the better. “We’re resilient,” she agreed. Carefully she avoided a different declaration. Maybe it was superstition, though she’d never believed in that, but things had fallen down like a house of cards before, and some habits were just too hard for her to break. Someday she’d get there, but today she knew that what went unsaid was just as loud to her longtime friend as what she said out loud. “If the boys are around, I wouldn’t mind cuddling one before I get out of your hair again.” Noa unfolded herself from the couch, adjourning their serious talk for the time being. |