"Clean ain't got nothin' t'do with it," Jericho said dryly. A new John was a new John, and Nova knew fresh meat when she saw it. He laughed when Simon commented on the drinking, finding himself pretty amused by the man's attitude. Hell, most vaulties had such a stick up their ass about everything it was impossible to like them. If Simon wasn't going to hold the fact that he was an asshole against him, then they'd get along just fine. The other two women he could take or leave - the redhead (Arlington, he'd heard Simon say) was easy to look at but smiled too fucking much, and the other one, Mary, was... even he had standards.
Alright, well, if she was his only option he wouldn't turn his nose up, but he'd just as soon pretend she wasn't there. Seemed to him like she was happy with that arrangement.
Jericho was laughing again when Simon seemed to miss the point of Nova's attention and his hints of a discount, addressing one of his previous questions instead, drawling, "Drunk about covahs it. Here, lemme help," as he refilled Simon's glass again.
"I could help you with that bath, sweetie," Nova purred at Simon. She wasn't sure what it was, exactly, that Jericho was playing at, but at least he'd drawn in a new John now that he'd dropped from her list of clientele. That was all right - this new John did look a bit cleaner, even seemed eager to bathe, and she twirled a finger in the hair (hair!) at the nape of his neck, putting a knee on his thigh as she leaned in closer. It wouldn't have been hard to look down her top. Even Jericho could from his angle... not that he was looking.
Alright, he was, but it was pretty hard to miss Nova's tits.
"Twenty caps for a full bath," Nova's lips curled upwards as she smiled, her eyes warm and her voice sultry, "But if you make it forty, I could keep you company. Make sure you don't miss any spots."
"She's real good at not missin' spots," Jericho said helpfully, lighting a new smoke and grinning like an idiot. He nudged Ceara a little, hoping like hell she wasn't going to get pissed off at him. Wasn't his fault if it was true! Nova was worth every cap, and helping a local do business was a good thing, right? His new buddy looked like he needed to get laid anyway.
Mary wanted nothing to do with a majority of the table, pulling Simon's jacket a little tighter around herself, ignoring the shot of liquor, certainly ignoring the fact that a prostitute had just sauntered over to their table. Arlington, however, continued to fascinate her. She leaned over slightly, peering at her drawing and then at Arlington herself. There had been arts and crafts during rec room time, but Mary had never fancied it.
"Are you an artist?" she asked the other woman curiously. She was almost her polar opposite, hair dark where Arlington's was vibrant, eyes slate and pale compared to the redhead's vibrant, piercing blue. Most notably, though, was Mary's stony expression, so unlike the easy smiles of the Wastelander. Even now, friendly and curious, her expression was dour, as though she had resigned herself to the fact that Arlington would just as soon jab her in the eye with a crayon than answer her question.