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Jude Dalton | 28 | Owner Of The Lounge

cassie-merritt:

Oh, ah.. nothing, I guess. Just nice to see that you’re alive.
 

Can’t die that easily baby, good to see you’re still kicking too.

austinmakesrobots:

Alive and kickin’.

Good to know, now explain to me why you’re not spending money at The Lounge.

cassie-merritt:

There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you..

You know me, been a busy guy. What can I do for you?

hunter-walsh:

Hunter had a saccharine smile on his face, shaking Jude’s hand back as well. He found that — in his line of work — it was better to keep the connection between name and face and reputation separate. But sometimes, networking was good. He figured that if he made friends with Jude, it would be a slight cushion to any trouble he might possibly get in with his establishment. Most of Hunter’s friends would feel a little hesitant before putting a bullet in any part of his body or breaking bones, yeah? So he shrugged his shoulders, chuckling a little. “Kind of. I like to spread my love evenly throughout the various establishments around the Strip, you see. But hey, the Lounge is one of my favorites.” Hunter had a knack for sweet talking people — lying as fluidly as if it were the truth. (Of course, in certain situations, like with Holly… it all kind of just.. rushed out. It was kind of infuriating in a good way.)

He’d already worked a good, decent amount of caps out of the drunk before Jude had come to the table. It was basically three things that made him stop before he liberated the man of all his caps: 1) Like he mentioned earlier, it would be too easy. 2) Jude’s presence. Hunter learnt the hard way, years ago, that the owners are usually quite keen to notice hustlers. 3) He’d also learnt that however profitable taking all of a man’s caps was — it was better to only siphon a bit. Because if someone cleaned them out, then that man would either never come back to the casinos, or come back and be too guarded to actually be a good mark. And sooner or later, that kind of guarded paranoia gets a hustler recognized. That usually never ends well.

“Another card, if y’please.” He laughed, rubbing the man’s back. He looked at the man, “What about you, eh? Have you even looked at your cards?” Hunter’s eyes glanced casually over his shoulder, looking at the slight ruckus that had erupted on the other side of the room. But he quickly turned away from it, a low whistle on his lips. “Well.” He had a wry grin on his face, because that sort of thing happened a lot on the Strip and it was pretty much a daily occurrence.

Jude had given Hunter a somewhat curious inspection, he seemed like your average confident-full of himself gambler that found themselves in the strip, but it was clear he was more than that, he couldn’t put his finger on just what, but it was something. He scratched his chin as he slid another card over to Hunter. “So what’d you do for a living, Hunter? Living the life off others money?” He grinned playfully, taking a sip from his glass as he took a sip from it. “Besides, dealers play last, thought you’d of played enough Blackjack to realise that.”

He drummed his fingers on the table as he watched the woman who’d hit last time, she shook her hood and stood, it all laid on Hunter’s next decision. He ran his fingers over the chips that laid on the table, a portion of his accumulated wealth in poker chips was an interesting thought, somewhat strange when you really got down to it. He shook his head at the thought and put his smile back on his lips, the drunkard next to Hunter was grinning slyly, and the girl of the trio went bust, it was down to the drunkard, Hunter and Jude. “I expect you to come back to The Lounge to throw away your winnings once you’re done for the night, then. I’d be disappointed otherwise.”

He glanced across the rest of the dealers, everything seemed to be going well, nobody had hit a massive jackpot or robbed him of any large sum of money he wouldn’t make back elsewhere, Cassandra wasn’t working the bar tonight and Shaylee wasn’t singing, which was much to his disappointment. She was talented and Cassandra always managed his drinks well, but that was beside the point, he was losing focus on the players in front of him. “So, Hunter, what’s your move?”

hunter-walsh:

Hunter was having a great night. He’d been in a friendly conversation with the man he was playing with, who was currently losing his caps. “Come on, mate. Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” As much as Hunter loved to admit that he loved hustling people, this was far too easy. The other was betting his caps haphazardly, like he had endless pockets. Betting on the state of the man’s clothes and the way he smelled, Hunter doubted that but… hey. They weren’t his caps, this really wasn’t his friend, and it was damn amusing.

Hunter took a sip from his drink when Jude strolled over, his eyes suddenly lighting up. ”Hello! You certainly look familiar.” Hunter held out his hand over the table. “Jude… Dalton, right? You run this joint?” He grinned.

“I’m Hunter. Lovely place, this is. I was just trying to tell my buddy here,” he patted the man next to him on the shoulder, shaking him lightly, “that he might want to take a break on the whiskey.” He nodded his head, “I know what it’s like to have a torrid love affair with alcohols such as this, so I can relate to his troubles.” Hunter winked at Jude. “But yeah, fantastic evening.”

“Yourself?” 

Jude gave the man a nod and a smile. “Jude Dalton, at your service.” He straightened out his waistcoat momentarily before returning his attention to his drink, taking a healthy sip from the liquor of choice for the night. His eyes inspected Hunter briefly before shaking the man’s hand firmly, he’d seen him around before but he wasn’t certain if he was a regular or not, or if he was even a resident to New Vegas, not that it mattered, he’d have his caps soon enough. “Pleasure to meet you, Hunter. You a regular to my humble abode or?” He raised a brow as he watched Hunter pat the drunkard, then shake him, frowning somewhat at the thought that he may end up vomiting on his table.

He slid cards over to the woman who hit, eyes on Hunter and the drunkard he’d so fondly got himself acquainted with who took his stand. “My night’s been going just fine, all I need now is a busty blonde and I’ll be sorted for the night.” He smirked playfully as he took a moment to observe the crowds around his place. “You staying or you want another card, then?” He grinned at the hustler in front of him, unknown to him of course.

A few bad eggs were getting riled up on the other side of the joint, but the security soon took care of them, as they found themselves face first out of the door. He shook his head momentarily, reaching for his drink in solace, Jude was always a lover, never a fighter. Unless somebody started a fight, then he was a fighter.

Jude had been somewhat completely ignorant of the fact that Raiders and Legionnaires were busy ransacking the rest of the strip, The Lounge had for the most part been left alone by anybody other than the regulars who found themselves in his property. He’d considered closing up shop while they continued to ransack, but where was the fun in that? The show must go on, after all. He made his way through his office out to the show floor where it was as packed as ever, not even the raiders could drag his customers away. He straightened out his suit before making an appearance on the floor, a bright smile on his lips as ever.

After greeting a few of the gamblers, checking everything was okay with his security staff and making sure nobody was causing any trouble, he settled himself down at the bar, hoping to find himself some worthy company for the evening, Cassandra, Shaylee, either one would of made his evening. He got himself a drink from the bartender, after all it was never too early to start drinking. All things considered, it was never too late either, it was always the right time for a drink. Shrugging to himself he turned around to watch his masterpiece at work. It wasn’t what he wanted to do originally, sure, but it’s what he got stuck with. Truth be told he may not of been looking to take it over when his parents passed away, but he was enjoying it.

Making his way over to a blackjack table, he observed the trio that sat at the table then gave the dealer a smile and a nod. “Take a break, I’ll deal.” He placed his drink down beside the deck of cards as the dealer made his way away. “I trust you’re all having a good evening?” He beamed generously at the three, dealing the cards out appropriately as he gauged their replies.

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