[open]

[soldiersblade]

Who: soldiersblade and You?
When: Toniiiight (May 1st)
Where: The Foxhole
Format: Will start with action, but join with whatever you'd like and I'll happily follow suit!
What: Des is finally checking out the town after showing up in the midst of Ogrepalooza. That's uh... it. IT'S A BAR. HE IS A BARTENDER. It was bound to happen.
Warnings: None? Language on his

Comments

don't judge me for linking polyvore, ok? )8

[thenobledie]

My goodness... Quite a colorful insult.

[dressed as though she doesn't belong in the city, either, a red-headed woman takes a seat next to him, her legs crossed. she taps the counter to get the bartender's attention, ordering desmond a gin and herself, a brandy.]

*stares at*

[soldiersblade]

[Perk.]

[A glass is set down four inches from his nose, contents slopping over the rim with the nonchalant toss of a barely there bartender. He blinks, staring a moment before straightening up, offering his new company a rather... screwed up eyebrow.]

It... yeah... [a quick glance around. Who is this chick?] ... wait, did you... ?

[ALRIGHT WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS]

Thanks. [and a gesture toward the gin] I'm Desmond.

/cries

[thenobledie]

[possibly the hottest and most frustrating dead woman you will ever meet! it may or may not be a good thing she has taken interest in him, though.]

Shirley.

[she only looks mildly annoyed that their drinks are set down so roughly. a good thing there napkins available. which she takes, wiping away the brandy on the counter. she doesn't want booze on her sleeves, ok. the napkin sits between their drinks when she finishes, if he wants to use it. shirley doesn't think so but why not.]

[soldiersblade]

Shirley, eh? Nice normal name for a place like this. I was startin' to think everyone here went by an alias.

[Good or not, he doesn't know, but switching on the Eagle Vision and doing a little snooping proves to be a more perplexing thing than he thought at first. The woman is a shifting, pale violet-- shades easing in and out between blue, red, white, gold, everything, and not lingering longer on one than the other.

Hm.]

So, uh... not to sound like a dick, but do you come here often? I'm not askin' as a pick-up-- I really do wanna know, cuz bars are sort of my thing back home, and I wanna find a good one to shake down for employment. [He laughs a little, corners of his lips curling subtly before taking a sip of his freebie.] M'not really sure what else I could do here... where to start...

[A pause.]

Did you find it weird to adjust?

[thenobledie]

I do not. But the owner is kinder to Scorched than other bar owners would be.

[she begins to sip her brandy, but:] No.

[for a ghost, there isn't quite a lot to adjust to. she even has a substitute for her broken shrine; it isn't quite as lusciously thriving with vegetation or difficult to navigate, but it is almost home with its broken pillars and deep waters. even the entity she had been given has been easy to materialize in and out of. though, the senses can be terribly overpowering.]

[soldiersblade]

I still don't get this whole... Natives versus Scorched bullshit. I mean, I get that people can be territorial, but I don't get why that means we're all plain evil to 'em.

[Ramble ramble, and he pauses, lip of the glass hovering near-to his own as he mulls over his own little rant. Granted, if he knew more about the Scorched and the fact that some were, well, full-on demonic, his opinion might differ.

But he doesn't. Ignorance is bliss?

Or is it just ignorance?]

You're not one for a lot of words, are you babe. [A smile here, and a sidelong glance.] I probably talk more'n enough for both of us. Sorry 'bout that.

[thenobledie]

[knowing some things she knows, she would say it can be bliss. but shirley isn't one for politics and philosophy over her booze. it ruins the whole enjoyment, in her opinion. so she lets the rambling slide, much as she has some things to say.]

I hardly mind your talking.

[finally, sipping her brandy. over the glass, her smile is softer than before.]

[soldiersblade]

Well, lemme know if you do. Usually a good kick speaks volumes.

[and of course he's worried about being annoying-- he knows he can be. Lucy struggled with inquiries en masse pretty much the entire time they knew each other, yet somehow satiated those curiosities, despite all the hell breaking loose around them.

It was his nature, wondering. Always wondering. The Scorched, the Natives... it both stressed the guy out and thrilled him. Dude's whole purpose in leaving The Farm was to dissect the world around him. Being dropped into an entirely new one was, to the say the least, overwhelming.

Swiveling the chair, facing her now, one elbow propped on the bar as the other arm hangs on the backrest, he smiles back.]

So... d'you have family here? Friends? Or are you kinda on your own...

[like me, save for some ancestors who probably aren't gonna handle seeing themselves face-to-face too well]

[thenobledie]

[she does like quiet people better than others, but shirley has had a long time to simultaneously forget varying social interactions and numb to annoyances. it tends to be too much effort these days. frustratingly unmovable!]

There are not others from my world, no. One man was, but he has since passed.

[to heaven. hopefully. maybe. she is trying to not think about that.]