There are plenty of respectable places in the Ally. The Cave is more like...seedy on the edge of attempting respectability. You'll get yelled at if you spit on the floor, but brawling is common enough that someone will almost certainly yell at you to take it on stage so everyone can enjoy the free show and you quit messing up the furniture that looks like it's been patched together at least three times already.

The lighting is dim, unless you're on stage. The drinks are decent and no more watered than any other joint in the Alley, while the food is exactly as full of salt and grease as you'd expect. There's a nod to the name, with rounded seats, some of them soft sacks stuffed with who knows what, but most of some sort of reclaimed wood or plastic. And the tables all appear to be irregular rounds, slices of the same tree, dyed so the growth rings give the appearance of agate in a variety of shades.

The stage is the main draw though, pulling in various performers, mostly local, but occasionally newcomers show up. On any given night you can see everything from kiddo's first magic trick in a box to the Belli Boys...a local band that's been playing together for the past 3 decades. They even got some kind of deal and toured offworld 20 years back or so, but ended up right back on Bellionas.

There's almost always space in the schedule to squeeze someone in, and tonight Dhel's definitely taking advantage. There's a solid wooden bucket set into the floor near the front of the stage that's served as a tip jar as long as anyone can remember.

The diminutive Bothan's set starts with a high energy Leap-Jump piece she'd picked up in the past month traveling. The words were tailored a bit to fit Bellionas a bit more than the Core clubs she'd heard it was popular in right now. After the slow motion meeting jabber, it felt good to move and belt out the sharp lyrics over the recorded music blaring from the speakers.

A joint like this would, of course, have dancing poles seated solidly into it's stage. Something for the patrons to watch with the music, or just watch and ignore the music, or even just watch. Watching because there was a strict 'if you want to keep your hands attached to your body then don't touch the dancers' rule in place.

Currently the poles are not in use. Dhel being considered more than enough to keep the crowd happy for now, but Sholua is there in her performance outfit. Which is to say not much at all, enjoying the music and the stares she collects all at once.

Sholua Tempes wrote: ↑

Tue May 04, 2021 10:09 pm

A joint like this would, of course, have dancing poles seated solidly into it's stage. Something for the patrons to watch with the music, or just watch and ignore the music, or even just watch. Watching because there was a strict 'if you want to keep your hands attached to your body then don't touch the dancers' rule in place.

Currently the poles are not in use. Dhel being considered more than enough to keep the crowd happy for now, but Sholua is there in her performance outfit. Which is to say not much at all, enjoying the music and the stares she collects all at once.

Performer enough to sense a scantily clad opportunity when she sees it, Dhel eyeballs her tips...correction, tip...thus far and takes one of her bows in the Mirialan's direction. "Have a routine that works to 'That Girl from Indoumodo?' Share a piece, transition to your set, and maybe back again?"

"Of course, darling. Let's see if we can wake up these nerf herders and make them a bit more generous."

She winked at a Corellian that she was fairly sure had herded actual nerfs at one point in his career and vaulted on to the stage, casually taking hold of the pole with one arm and beginning a slow, languid spin.

Dhel, smoothly moving into partial MC mode, makes up a story about her new show companion, freshly in from out of the way places with moves you don't see in the Core. "Tell 'em your name, sweetie!" she calls, directing attention while she drops into inconspicuous mode to punch up the correct music.

She'll flip it back on for the song, but settled in a supporting role this time, eyes on the new dancer as much as the crowd, assessing whether the music needs a tempo adjustment or where to ad lib a lyric to fit the action, with asides to encourage the tips. "You all know how stage physics works, she spins faster when there's credits ringing in the bucket!"

"Sholua, honey."

The words are accompanied by even more slow rotations, each switching position ever so slightly. Until the crowd was interested there would be little else . . . 'on show'.

Manny wasn't quite on time. The fuzzy girl (a Bothan!) had told him where and when the performance would be. But it was so hard to decide what to wear. There was the sparkly vest... but then, what about the really sparkly vest? He held up one, and then the other. One, and then the other.

In the end, the choice was obvious.

A really sparkling Manny walked in through the door, striding coolly up to a seat near the stage. He pulled out his deck of cards as he leaned way back in his seat, idly shuffling them with one hand as he began to watch the show. It only took a few moments for the confident confidence man smile to become a look of real interest.

Sholua Tempes wrote: ↑

Tue May 04, 2021 11:00 pm

"Sholua, honey."

The words are accompanied by even more slow rotations, each switching position ever so slightly. Until the crowd was interested there would be little else . . . 'on show'.

"Sholua's new in town folks! Stopping in to see how friendly Bellionas is, so..." the music begins... "I know you'll make sure she's got a favorable impression of our lil' city here, alright?!"

Launching into the lyrics, Dhel trusts the obviously confident performer to put on her part of the show as the Bothan sticks to the edge of the stage singing. The tune has a bouncy chorus and slinky verses about a set of spacers trading tales about the various times they stopped on the far away jungle world of Indoumodo, and what that got up to there with one unforgettable lass, or in one verse-lad, only to realize at the end of song that they had all actually met the same one as the final singer's lines detail meeting this striking creature bearing each of the gifts the others had left behind.

It's a well known song, and plenty will join in on the chorus, Dhel making eye contact and waving folks who might be just a bit shy to the tip jar, offering a swish of tail through their hair or blown kiss in her own thanks. She recognizes Manny down front--thank goodness for the low lights or that vest would blind someone--and offers a wave and wink.

Manny didn't join in on the chorus. He did, however, take part in his way. "Woooooo!" He yelled, clapping his hands and scattering little beams of light all around him.

And, of course, he was also happy to welcome Sholua. "Wooooo, Sholua!" He cheered, cupping his hands in front of his mouth. "Yeah! Welcome to Bellionas!" Actually, he'd only just gotten there himself, but he really wanted to take part in things.

Dhel would receive a wink and double finger-guns when she waved at him. Did he mouth "wink" as he winked? It sorta looked like he did.

Well, Manny did seem to be having a good time, anyway. And, spotting the tip jar, he reached into his jacket, casually pulled out an egg, and tossed it in. "Oh dip." He said, audible even over the music. Face red, he pulled out a credit chit, tossing that in as well.

There was a smirk at the new in town bit.

Hardly true, but I guess it helps throw off any old acquaintances.

New to the club would be more accurate, but a pole is a pole is a pole. As long as its anchored correctly, it can be used correctly. As it was now.

Sholua launched into a much faster routine to match the tempo, and managed to not use her 'extra enhancements' to aid in the dance. Sometimes one handed, often no handed, she did the thing that emptied pockets of spare credits most nights. She just hoped the Bothan was good on sharing.

The egg was noticed. There would be questions later.

Manny's head went in little circles, eyes wide as he watched the spinning performer. "Whoa..." He said. A bit of that, and he had to sit down again, hands on either side of his head, fighting a battle against dizziness.

Still, it was intriguing... Ali couldn't help but study the dancer's legs. Hmmm... "If someone has green legs... and you put blue paint on them... but then they'd be the wrong color... what color plus green makes blue?" He could be heard to say, clearly working through some sort of complicated problem.

As she sings, Dhel moves to glance in the tip bucket, shooting a glare at Manny, even as another happy patron tosses several credits in to further splatter the very well-cracked egg. There's a lifted eyebrow that promises a 'discussion' later, before her next breath launches into the final chorus with a bounce and drop to sit at the edge of the stage, staring up a Sholua's whirling and using her free hand to faux-pound the stage in encouragement.

She pops back up to wave a thanks for the cheering, and gestures with both hands to the tip bucket for that last little bit of financial appreciation. Glancing back to Sholua, she adds a quiet "are you doing another for a set? or want an outro? Either way, I'm getting a rag from the bar to clean that Farking egg off."

She'll offer the transition to dancer minus singer or an empty stage for the next act before scooping the mess into her empty glass and stomping toward the bar with a growled "You...stay right there. We're going to talk." at Manny as she passes.

As always, Manny clapped and cheered as the performance finished. It was always important to support other performers. Hopefully when it was his turn up on stage, whenever that was, they'd support him, too!

While perhaps not the brightest bulb around, Manny did at least have a bit of a sense for when he was in trouble. "Haha... sure!" He agreed, only laughing a little awkwardly as Dhel stomped by. "It's just... all these pockets. You understand." He patted his vest by way of explanation, wincing as a soft cracking sound came from it.

Clearing his throat, he looked at the dancer, giving his best porg-eyes. Maybe she'd be sympathetic to his plight?

Dhel's ears caught that soft 'crk' just fine. She grinned a little bit on the way to get water and a rag from the bar.

"Oh I've got a few more in me, honey."

She continued the whirl, slowing it down until she was suspended by her legs alone upside down staring right at Manny.

It wasn't a pleasant stare.

Manny smiled at the athletic display... and then winced at the stare.

"Well... not the first time a woman upside down on a pole's given me that look..." He consoled himself, brushing one hand awkwardly through his hair.

Opening up his vest, scattering sparkles everywhere, Manny picked up a napkin from the table. Napkin in hand he began to dab at the inside of his vest, cleaning up egg.

"I bet she had good reason as well, cutey."

With that, the working smile was back and she continued to hold up her end of the performance until Dhel got back.

"Oh, and Cutey . . . we'll talk later."

Two expressions warred on Manny's face. The first was pleased at being called 'cutey' by a pretty dancer. The second was concern at just how much that talk later would involve hitting. He hoped that it would mostly be in the face; his really sparkly vest still had a lot of pockets, and a lot of eggs. Really, he didn't need to load his vest with quite so many, did he?

Finally he settled back with a (nervous) smile. "Hey, sounds great." He said (awkwardly).

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his deck of cards, beginning to shuffle them one-handed.

On her way back, Dhel pauses to rest a hand on Manny's shoulder, everything else skillfully held in her off-hand. "We'll catch up over the meal you just bought us after this number, hmm?" The hold looks pretty delicate, but the blunt claws can be felt as she gives a light squeeze, her show smile back on as she heads to the stage and taps the music controls without looking.

Setting eggy credits, and water at the corner of the stage, she walks out to the tip bucket to swipe the remaining debris out as the musical holding pattern shifts gears into something with a velvety bassline. Crouching, she grins at the crowd. "Ok now, I know some of you are visiting our lovely planet..." There's a couple of inebriated laughs at 'lovely' from locals. "And we're pretty Outer out here...but we really aren't so far back that we're up here performing for chickens...or eggs." She lifts the gooey rag with a lifted eyebrow and wrinkled nose.

"This is a _classy_ joint, ok? Credits and easily sold jewelry only, from now on, hmm?" she says, drifting back to the side of the stage as the tempo shifts gently upward. "And look at this...Can you do that? I can't do that? Show a little appreciation for the talent we've got tonight, hmmm?" With that, she drops the rag and becomes a background vocalist for the currently popular piece she'd copied recently, one eye on the dance to tailor her vocals to offer growling highlights and breathless appreciation where it seemed sensible.

Somewhere near the end of the piece, a server drops three plates of the house hash and local brew on Manny's table, definitely pausing for the expected tip.

Dhel's 'I can't do that?' was timed perfectly with an upside down splits move that a galactic level gymnast would have been proud of, if such things existed.

The rest of the act matched whatever tempo Dhel was putting out and, hopefully, aided in the collection of not egg tips. Finally done though, she vaulted off the pole and sauntered over to Manny while, presumably, the Bothan collected up the tips. She definitely wasn't intending using their hard earned tips to tip the restaurant staff. Oh no, that was Manny's job.

"Well hello again Cutey. No more eggy surprises I hope or are you just a very well dressed poultry farmer?"