For a spell the conversation levels rose, irking the moody Chesha. Normally it was fine, but when she just wanted to relax and forget the day the noise of other people could grate on her nerves. She had to be careful though, going so far as to prevent Alejandro from gnawing on the stool at all due to her anxiousness. All that’d accomplish is destroying her seat, and right now the pale girl wasn’t sure she could get someone kicked out in a nice way for the sake of their seat. ’Maybe snacks…yeah, need to eat something.’ If she could preoccupy herself with something, anything else that’d help and truth be told the girl’s tongue wanted a little salty or something to offshoot some of the sweet and citrus of her drink.

”Hey barkeep, can I get some chips n’ maybe some buffalo wings?” she hollered, getting the man’s attention. With a nod he went to place her order to the kitchen. Just as she started fixing up another drink the mermaid came back on stage, plugging the bar a bit before asking for more requests. So far it looked as most of the crowd could care less or were too drawn to their personal conversations to really offer something. At this rate it looked like the staff were considering letting it be dealer’s choice for all the offers they were getting, though perhaps one or two received a proper suggestion. As a new, fresh-faced young man walked by Chesha gently tugged on his sleeve, quickly getting his attention. ”Mind putting in a request for me?” at the question he nodded, leaning closer to properly hear as she spoke up, ”Can you ask her to sing ‘Castle’ please? Thank ye!”

It seemed that request night was going to be a flop tonight. No one seemed to want to put in any requests. Either focusing on their food and drink, or too busy in an interesting conversation to care about what was going on in the background. It would take a few minutes before anyone got a song request to her, and it was one for a song that she did not do that often. That didn't mean she did not know it, it just meant she would not be doing anything special movement-wise while playing.

The mermaid would begin playing her guitar before singing what was a calming, yet intense, song at the same time. "Sigh of all these people talking, sick of all this noise. Tired of all these cameras flashing, sick of being poised. Now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it. Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it." The woman could envision quite a few people in this song, though none were in it for a good reason. I'm headed straight for the castle, they wanna make me their queen. And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean." If Hure had been in the position of the person in the song she may have gone into why they would say such things, or deck him depending on what he was doing there on the throne. "I'm headed straight for the castle, they've got the kingdom locked up. And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut. Straight for the castle." People in the crowd either showed interest in the song or just didn't care that it was being sung. At this point of the song she would step down again, intent on roaming the crowd to maybe chat after the song; or just stop if anyone of interest invited her to have a seat.

There was just something to the hypnotic beat, something that the girl delighted about the words. It left her with visions of facing him again, throwing that cocky bastard off his self-proclaimed throne. She wanted to send him sprawling down a flight of stairs and let that man look up to see her atop them, to realize he’d been dethroned and she’d sure as hell see to it he never regained it. Then again there existed a myriad of things she wanted to do to him, to say, and deciding on the best or favored course of action changed according to her mood.

In her more peaceful states she wanted to merely get in a last word as she slit his throat. Other, more vicious moments she wanted him to feel every ounce of pain she’d experienced during her life incarcerated by him, drawing everything out so deliciously long so as not to waste a single ounce…sometimes that sent shivers down her spine in such a nice way. Only Alejandro stood as a good note of those memories, something to appreciate in surviving.

Though in her more literal moments the girl wasn’t interested in ruling people, at least nothing beyond maybe a small group and even then…well, people were so willful. She appreciated their company – some more than others – but the mere notion of holding responsibility over any of them was laughable. ’Still wanna kick him off his little chair though….hmmm…although…’ They hadn’t exactly done anything to her per say, not directly or in this lifetime, but there existed another cocky bunch Chesha wouldn’t mind seeing on their hands and knees begging like the oddly protected worms they were. Then again when only their life held any importance above all others...surely that was something anyone and everyone could despise? ’Amusing to think the only thing not uniting the world against them are delusions and the Marines. Well, to be fair few people pop their bubbles of their own accord. By that point it’s too late.’ As food clattered in front of her Chesha realized two things: it looked and smelled delightful, and her thoughts were becoming a little sporadic. ’Oh well, not exactly making parliament decisions right now anyhow.’

The rest of the song would go smoothly, the woman not getting a single interruption to her song for the entirety of it's lyrics. A few would even clap as it ended and the woman would ask again for any kind of request. Alas there were none to be had, so the woman would sing a multitude of songs in a row, only pausing to take more drinks of the rum that she got free free or to take a bite off a plate of nachos a guest had ordered for her as a type of tip.

The playlist for the night went from 'Elastic Heart' and managed to get to songs such as 'Can't Feel My Face.' There was always a rise from some part of the crowd, someone enjoying the song more than the others that were around. Even more seemed somber, lost in thoughts as she sang even as they worked slowly at mugs and plates. A song that went by the name of 'Yellow' made some of the ladies go on about wanting songs written about them, boyfriends with them being put on the spot if they had them.

All in all the night went off without a hitch for the rest of her shift that night. Once everything was said and done, tips were gathered, and she packed up her stuff, there was not that many left inside of the tavern. It was getting quite late, a few more hours and the early risers would be getting our of bed. The woman would go to those seeming lost in thought and let them know they should try to get some sleep, and even offer to help them up and outside if they had had a bit too much to drink. Once the place emptied she would head to bed, she had a long day ahead of her if she wanted to move on to something more lucrative.

With the disappearance of her wings and chips the woman considered her already purchased alcohol. As much as she enjoyed the music having the crowd around her and not much else to do made her oddly anxious. Sort of like being back there where a younger version sat around just waiting until people needed her for one thing another. Always waiting, always at their beck and call, always on their time…and she had other things to do anyways. Things she got to decide on, and well felt necessary anyways. Bones didn’t naturally scatter themselves about town and organs had a funny way of staying where you put them when not stuck inside some useless body.

Picking up the larger vodka bottle, Chesha caught the bartender’s attention, ”I’m good to go, right?” Vaguely she recalled handing money over, but a little hazy she didn’t exactly want to deal with a burly bouncy hounding her part way back to that guy’s home either. The less followers the better.

”Yeah you’re good for that n’ the soda water, but you haven’t paid for the food yet.” The man continued wiping down a mug, getting things ready more or less for closing soon though they still had another hour before it’d be time to kick people out the door. He nodded to the girl when she placed down the requested amount, again reminding her about the soda water and shrugging when she inquired about the lemons: they’d just be tossed out if she didn’t take them. One container later and the girl finally started her leisurely walk back towards the slums. Now she simply had to decide what to do with her leftovers: make more drinks, give whatever she didn’t finish to a local, or use it to help burn the man’s house down.

’I’ll figure something out.’