Description - Exterior

The Rocket Soda Shop sits on a busy corner like a chrome relic from a future that never arrived. Its curved glass front and red neon rocket sign still shine most nights, but the edges are chipped and tagged. The once-vibrant “Rocket Girl” decal on the door is scratched nearly to oblivion. Local kids hang around the front steps, smoking and eyeing strangers. Everyone knows whose turf this is—and if you don’t, you find out fast.

Description - Interior

Inside, the shop buzzes with static and tension. The jukebox skips, the air smells like fry oil and sweat, and the checkerboard floor shows more scuff than shine. Vinyl booths line the walls, though half have slashes in the cushions. The counter stools spin, but not all of them stop. In the back corner, there’s always a couple Bulls posted up—watching, talking low, passing folded bills under napkin holders. When the fights start, it’s fast, loud, and everyone pretends they didn’t see it.

Owner

Jules Marconi – Once tried to keep the Rocket clean, but now he mostly keeps his head down and his bat close. His loyalty isn’t to the Bulls—but he knows better than to get in their way. Claims he’s just a businessman. Nobody buys it anymore.

Employees

Kitty Ramos – Sharp-tongued and too clever by half. Knows to duck when the shouting starts.
Reggie – Still slinging his own product when he can, but he knows to keep his stuff separate from the Bulls' op.
Silent John – Doesn’t work there, but his constant presence has made the shop a magnet for bad energy. His fights are fast, mean, and often.
“Fink” Deluca – A low-level Bull who manages the drug handoffs in the alley behind the Rocket. He’s friendly—until he isn’t.

History

The Rocket used to be a clean post-war hangout, but that shine faded fast. By ’50, the Bulls had claimed it as one of their regular spots. A few shootouts near the back lot made that claim loud and clear. Jules never officially ceded control, but he didn’t have much choice. Now the Rocket is a hotspot for teenage punks, restless soldiers home from Korea, and dealers looking to move speed or weed before the cops take notice.

Notes

Not neutral—this is Bulls turf, through and through.
Most crews avoid causing trouble here unless they’re ready for heat.
Drugs move out the back, but not Reggie’s—he plays it careful.
Fights break out here more than anywhere else in the district, often started or finished by Silent John.
The jukebox still isn’t cursed. It’s just scared.

Type

Pub / Tavern / Restaurant

Parent Location

New City