g σ ℓ ∂ є и;

helen rilpley. 27. bartender at the stingray. outgoing, flirtatious, hilarious. gossip, unscrupulous, grudge holder.

[helenripley]

. . .

[helenripley]

no strings attached ✗ louis + helen

[louisjacobson]

After leaving Eliot’s, where Louis enjoyed a short dinner with Roy after they closed the station up, Louis headed to the Stingray. It was Friday night, and all Louis was interested in was relaxing a bit and possibly bringing a girl home. He didn’t intend to show up to the station tomorrow until the late afternoon, if at all, so he wanted to take advantage of this free time. Hell, who wouldn’t?

He walked in, pulling out a cigarette before lighting it and taking a drag from it. He looked around the Stingray briefly, looking toward the stage to see if Annette was singing tonight. She wasn’t. He pursed his lips together slightly at the realization. Where was she? 

He went to the bar, ordering himself a drink as he took another drag from his cigarette. He let his ashes loose on one of the ashtrays, and he looked over to his side casually—but he spotted someone. Helen. A small smile perked at the corner of his mouth. Helen was wonderful. She was gorgeous, talented, and easy to get along with. He really liked her. He licked his lips, before moving down a few seats to be by her. “Evening,” He told her, taking another drag from his cigarette as his drink arrived.

[helenripley]

         She watched him approach, a playful smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Louis was, perhaps, one of the most entertaining people in all of Chicago. There was something about him that drew her in, that made her want to know more.  She didn't know a single damn thing about him besides the basics - he was mysterious, and he had a kind of edge that drew Helen in. She'd always liked things that were a little dangerous, a little off the rails. 

         "Evening, Louis," she said, just as her drink was placed down onto the counter. "What brings you here?" She picked up the newly filled glass, tipped it back between her lips and swallowed a mouthful of the stuff. The burn that was ever so present earlier in the evening was dulled down to nothing but a numbing tingle, and Helen could hardly say it wasn't welcome. 

         Placing her glass back down onto the counter, she trailed her finger around the rim and spoke up once more. "I have to say, it's nice to see you here on a night where I'm not working."

[bellicosebianca]

"Generalizing never got anybody anywhere, miss."

[helenripley]

      Technically, you just generalized that generalizing never got anybody anywhere. But hey, who am I to disagree? Maybe you're just always right.

[oxfordman]

You sure about that? I’m a very talented man, Helen. Maybe there’re a few things you don’t know about me, did you think of that?

[helenripley]

      You know, I did think of that, believe it or not - but I still happen to think you're overestimating yourself.

      No less, I'm gonna humour you. What am I thinking about, right now?

[ambers-heard]

[oxfordman]

Yes, but I can feel you thinking them.

Or maybe that’s just a testament to the fact that I have been workin’ too damn hard lately.

[helenripley]

      Sure you can, boss. Sure you can.

      I'm willing to bet that you've been workin' too damn hard. It's definitely a little more likely than you being some sort of mind reader, that's for sure.

[oxfordman]

The fact that I instantly felt like you were talkin’ about me makes me suspect that I’m one of those men.

[helenripley]

      Ollie, I wouldn't dare imply such things about you. Not out loud, at least.

[helenripley]

no strings attached ✗ louis + helen

      Tonight, Helen was just another customer at The Stingray. She wasn't responsible for pouring drinks and checking that she'd gotten the right amount of change, or keeping her mouth shut on stage when it came to taboo subjects. Sure, she still ought to keep those things in mind, as did everyone, but she was freed from her duties for the night. 

      So, she sat at a table near the band, nursing her second or third drink of the night - or perhaps it was her fourth... She hadn't been counting, but she'd felt the buzzing effects of the brandy (her drink of choice) a while ago, and decided that it was in everyone's best interests for her to slow down. 

      Then again, there was only a sip of amber coloured liquid left in her glass, and one more really couldn't do too much damage. By the time Helen had fully convinced herself that she'd be fine with one more glass of the stuff, she was already back at the bar, motioning for Joel to come over and fill up her glass once more. 

      As she waited only semi-patiently, she leaned against the counter and let her eyes graze over The Stingray's patrons, perhaps to simply pass the time and perhaps in the hopes that she might see someone worth talking to.

      The latter was far more likely.

[helenripley]

      Men... I swear, half of 'em wouldn't know what the hell 'relax' meant if it smacked 'em square in the god damned face.

[helenripley]

. . .

[louisjacobson]

Definitely not.

[helenripley]

      Now, are you speaking for yourself, or for all of Chicago collectively? I'm sure there's a big difference in your answers.

[stellarussell]

Something more along the lines of pitchforks and torches, I presume?

[helenripley]

      Something exactly like that, actually. God knows it's not a party in Chicago without some kind of drama.

[stellarussell]

Shunned? I speak from experience when I say probably not. You may receive some funny looks, though, but that’s about the extent of it.

[helenripley]

      Well, damn. I was hoping for something a little more exciting than that.

[helenripley]

      I'm not gonna get shunned for showin' up to this thing without a man, am I?

[ambers-heard]

[louisjacobson]

All natural. Always has been, always will be. You can ask Frankie; she’ll tell you.

[helenripley]

      Something tells me that's not the case, but I won't question you. The charm is obvious enough, I don't need to hear it from anybody else.

[louisjacobson]

Oh, I know.

[helenripley]

      Ah, I see. Is flattery a part of your elaborate plan to be charming, then? Or is that all natural?