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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 6:30:53 GMT -5
Duane's Dive is a larger bar in the south portion of Gotham. The atmosphere is quite lively as most of the patrons are younger men who want a few drinks with the guys. Normally somewhere this busy wouldn't make her list of places to try, but Harvey was right to recommend it: Duane took a near immediate liking to her and is even quicker than she is to object to any of his patrons treating her disrespectfully. Something she's noticed that he does for all of the women who come into the bar: there aren't very many, but he keeps an eye on them and is quick to show any man who bothers them the door. And most of the regulars seem to be very familiar with his zero tolerance policy so it's rare for anyone to try to begin with.
The seat at the very end of the bar has become 'hers', if it's available. It's near the back wall and is an excellent place to people watch without being in the thick of it herself. She's in a quiet mood at the moment, simply letting herself relax as she sips her way through a glass of scotch and idly watches the men at the nearest pool table play the game. Neither of them are more than average at it, but they're well matched and have a close game going so it's entertaining to watch for that reason. She's found herself coming here whenever she's in one of those moods where she really just needs to be distracted from her life - there's usually enough going on here to keep her from having to think about anything else if she doesn't want to.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2014 1:05:58 GMT -5
Wandering has it's benefits. And tonight's benefit is the small homey bar that has a pool table. He's chosen a beer for himself tonight. A stout lager that his heady on his tongue. A refreshing change from the delicate wines he associates with home, and work.
He is casual this evening in a blue oxford, dark denim and black polished shoes. His hair is still an overgrown mess but who cares. He has been chatting with the owner on and off through the evening. It's only when a seat opens near the back of the bar does he move in, finally. The statuesque redhead has been quietly sipping on a glass of Scotch, if his eyes serve him correctly. So beer in hand he goes to the seat and motions to hit. "Is this seat taken?" He asks with a glimmer of accent and hint of a smile.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2014 7:07:43 GMT -5
Distracted as she is by the pool game and quite relaxed, Shayera fails to notice the man approaching the empty seat next to her until he's quite close, but when she does he gets her full attention for a moment. And when Shayera gives someone her full attention, it's practically palpable - her eyes practically stare right into people. But nothing about his appearance makes him stand out much beyond any other man in the room, at least to her eyes, so her inspection is very brief. Yes, she can see that he's handsome and presents himself at a higher standard than your average blue collar worker, but does she care about any of that? Nope, not at all.
So his excessively standard question gets a shrug and the observation, "It doesn't appear to be." And, after giving that response, her eyes shift back to the pool game and she sips her scotch.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2014 15:49:03 GMT -5
Mm. Blunt and uninterested. Raising his brows and going to sit he leans back to the bar, an arm outstretched. He hadn't noticed the wings, but now is. And they are clearly not a prop. Red hair, green eyes. Maybe a touch of Irish blood. How alive those women are, even the Black Irish.
"Thank you. I'm Marc." He introduces himself as it is quite rude to take an empty seat without saying so.
"You play pool?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2014 13:30:03 GMT -5
"Shayera," she replies, as it's rude to not give someone your name when they give theirs - that's even Thanagarian etiquette. Which exists, in spite of rumors to the contrary, though it's based around the principle that if you disrespect someone you should be prepared to get punched in the face by them. Which is also probably the way that human etiquette got started in the first place, though they've overcomplicated the whole thing since then.
Having half hoped that the conversation would end there, she glances at him when he asks her a question but though her eyes go back to the two men playing she answers by simply saying, "Not well." At least not by her own estimation - she has no idea if people in general would agree with that or not.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2014 19:14:46 GMT -5
His brow raised at her name. Not Irish. Not American. Nor did he doubt it was human. Not that the wings gave it away. Or her rather impressive other assets. "It's not a favorite pastime of mine, but one that passes the hours." He offers, following her glance to the two men. "New to Gotham by chance? I haven't heard that name before." He wasn't trying to be rude. Making a bit of conversation was proper after all.
"I'm from France." He states, his eyes flicking from the men playing pool to admire her. From wingtip to toe, and back up again.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2014 14:54:29 GMT -5
Actually, from what Shayera's heard her name is rather human-sounding compared to most from Thanagar. Still, at the very least it sounds like some unique combination of names, so it's quite distinctive even so - which she'll count as a good thing since it hints to people that she's different, but not too different. "It's a decent enough game," she allows. After all, it's two people in a battle of skill and strategy - she can appreciate that.
His next question causes her to glance at him sideways. She's certainly not used to being asked that question, even if it's relatively normal to anyone else. "I'm better known as 'Hawkgirl' - and if you haven't heard that name before, you've been living under a rock. I'm from Thanagar," she states. Most people seem to be able to put that one together just based on the wings. Still, she's noted his accent and his explanation of his own origin confirms that, so she'll give him some allowance for not being from this country where she's spent so much more time. But when you've saved the entire planet a few times...
But she's not more than minorly irritated by that, so her attention goes back to the pool table. At least until she catches him doing something somewhat more irritating out of the corner of her eye. "Why don't you take a picture? It lasts longer," she says, sipping her scotch.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2014 22:01:23 GMT -5
"I left my camera at home. But I could take a picture if you let me. My phone doesn't utilize a camera." He shows off the rather simple flip phone he has, shrugging as it's shoved more than slipped back into his pocket.
"Gotham sure likes it's heroes and masks and themed criminals. But no. Hawkgirl is no more on my radar than this Princess Diana. I should apologize. But I'm not going to." He shifts to sit back against the bar more comfortably. He is not a man to apologize for not being aware of matters that concern him so little. He is not keen on pop-culture. Nor the affairs of those that police the skies by unnatural means.
"I'm from France. Even though Thanagar has a certain ring to it. Competitive. Raw. Intense. Far from it be from my France. Passionate, intense, languid. At least you have a good taste for fine liquor I can see." More smell, but he lives, breathes and dies for liquor as it is.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 23:13:33 GMT -5
"I'm sure you could find a picture with my clothes photoshopped off on the internet - would you like that?" Shayera asks, watching him out of the corner of her eyes, her tone only lightly hinting at sarcasm.
What he says next prompts a brief scowl as Shayera asks, "Could you at least apologize for comparing me to the 'Princess', then?" It's not that Shayera hates Diana, no. It's just that... well, they worked okay together on the team before, but Diana is so... insufferable. And that was before - she can only imagine what Diana thinks of her now. And it must be left to her imagination since she knows that Diana is in Gotham, Diana surely knows that she's in Gotham, and yet neither of them have attempted to track down the other to talk things out. Which is a very bad sign in and of itself about how things will go whenever they do run into each other.
The rest of his comments cause her to glance at her glass. "It's the best I've found on this planet so far. Still not a match for Thanagarian drinks, but those would probably sear off your taste-buds," she comments before swallowing the last of her drink and setting the glass on the bar.
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Last Edit: Mar 24, 2014 6:59:30 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2014 6:00:51 GMT -5
She must have missed the blase tone in his voice as he mentioned Wonder Woman. Was he impressed she wore a swimsuit and paraded around speaking of peace and a united front? No.
But when she shot that straight phrase at her he shifted his eyes to watch her. "Not a fan of photoshop. And nudity is overdone." He fired back, noting her glass and ordering two more with a hand waved to her glass and two fingers.
'More liquor,' was universal in any bar in any town. At least from his knowledge.
"And yes, I can apologize to you for that. I'd rather drink good scotch with you, than a several thousand dollar bottle of wine that she insists on paying for, herself." He snorted into his beer at that one as he tipped it back and set the empty beside him as well.
It wasn't a minute or two and two fresh glasses of Scotch were before them. He offered one to her, raising his own.
"To a proper apology, Shayera. To women that speak their mind, and understand what a good fight really is." His blue eyes almost twinkled as he hoped this was a sufficient apology.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2014 8:58:33 GMT -5
His response almost prompts more words, but they're withheld when Shayera notes that he's asking for her drink to be refilled. There are few things that will cause her to bite her tongue, but that's one of them. Then again, the price is pretty steep - one remark for one drink and she has plenty more remarks where that one came from.
Besides, what he says next is enough to distract her from his gawking, at least temporarily. "She did that?" her eyes roll slightly, "I believe it - the 'Princess' is pretentious. The 'Princess' knows less about how this world works than I do. The 'Princess' is a judgmental bitch." She pauses for a moment, frowning, before she comments, "Not that I'm bitter or anything." Okay, so maybe she is, but really - how is she supposed to not be at this point? The more of her old friends she's gotten in touch with who have completely or at least partly forgiven her, the more it rankles that Diana seems to be avoiding her. Though if she's honest, a part of it is because she personally feels like perhaps it's right that she still has some misery to wallow in.
Fortunately, it doesn't take long for the fresh glasses of scotch to arrive - a most welcome distraction! She smiles faintly as she accepts one, briefly pondering whether or not she should warn Marc about it. Because she hasn't been drinking your basic scotch - she prefers as bold of a flavor as possible, and she's becoming enough of a regular here that Duane's started to accommodate that. But it only takes her a moment to decide to keep her mouth shut about it - partly just because she's curious about his reaction, and partly because if he's going to go assuming that he can handle whatever a woman is drinking and is wrong about that then he deserves what he's going to get.
His apology causes her to smirk, and she lifts her own glass as she says, "I'll drink to that!" And she does, immediately taking a large mouthful and letting herself savor it for a moment before she swallows - like she said, it's good stuff. Though even as she enjoys it she can't help but keep an eye on him to catch his reaction to it.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 27, 2014 13:13:43 GMT -5
The smell from her glass cued him into the drink before he had even sat down. That is partially what intrigued him. Also, the wings. His fingertips itch to touch them, but he's surmising that's almost as bad as reaching out and touching a different part of female anatomy as well.
So after they salute to one another, and Shayera's words are told on Diana, he raises a brow. While his words could be taken either way, opinions are currently had by the redhead.
"We went to lunch. She insisted on the wine. I would never begrudge someone that indulgence. But when I offered to pay-" He shrugs slightly. The money was not an issue to him. It was more the gesture. Some women liked to be independent to the point of insulation.
"Bitter is good in some things." He adds his glass gripped and the contents swirled. A sip is taken, relished, and swallowed. Aside from wine-his true passion, there are few other alcoholic indulgence he refuses to pass up. Scotch is another pastime. While Laphroaig is potent, it's no Macallan 18, or even as vivid in it's peat notes as an Ardbeg Uigeadail. But it's more pungent than a Lagavulin. Raising a brow he winces as one of the pool players is clearly beat with an impressive sinking of three balls successively.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2014 18:08:50 GMT -5
When Marc add onto his story, Shayera is quick to add, "Ah yes, I forgot that one - the 'Princess' is a rabid feminist." Something that they don't have in common at all. Because while she may be stronger, faster, better at strategy, better at fighting, and overall less 'wimpy' than the vast majority of the men on this planet, she's not going to go around thinking that she's superior to them in any way - except in those select traits where she obviously is - or claim that it has anything to do with gender. Quite the contrary - she thinks that men in general are wonderful, and for many reasons beyond the obvious one.
She can't help but smirk at his comment on bitterness - while she's not going to believe that it's not a bad thing as an attitude, and she's certainly going to work on fixing that, it's certainly true that it's a very good thing in food and drink. And she does seem to have more of a taste for it and other flavors than humans do - or perhaps just flavor in general, though she's also not a fan of excessive sweetness. She is a fan of bitter, salty, sour, and otherwise powerful flavors - to a degree that few humans seem to share. But then there are the exceptions and she has great fun trying to hunt down new things to try, and there's plenty she hasn't discovered since she's only been on the planet for a handful of years and has been extremely busy for most of that time.
When he fails to react very much at all to what she's drinking, she can't help but notice that and gives an amused grin as she comments, "I see this isn't your first time with scotch." Probably a huge understatement too, she's willing to bet.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2014 4:09:26 GMT -5
He doesn't have anything against feminism. Or any 'ism' or viewpoint. As long as it's not shoved down his throat. That's a given. "Rampant anything is not my cup of tea." He states, sipping on his scotch. It's been a while since he indulged in such a vivid, pungent liquor. One of the nicer side-effects aside from intoxication is that the aroma is so noxious to some that a few stools clear around them allowing for more freedom to speak if they wished.
As she grins at him, his ice-blue eyes turn back to her with a nod. "No, it's not." He states perfunctory. "My hobbies and employment deal in spirits and fine wines so there is little I have not tried, tasted and swallowed. My family owns a vineyard. As being in such a profession, my tolerances are high and my tastes vary day to day." He raises his glass to her again.
"And I can see this isn't your first time either, Shayera. Most women prefer their scotch blended, with ice, or mixed with something else. It's refreshing to see a woman indulging in this label, unadulterated. I have learned you can figure out quite a bit from a drink one imbibes." He takes a healthy swig of his glass before turning his head to her again. "Would you allow me to buy you another round or two?" He's playing fun at the 'Princess' as she called him, but is curious to the animosity between the two.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2014 6:09:57 GMT -5
Marc's statement causes a quick shake of Shayera's head. "Not 'rampant', 'rabid'. Trust me on that one," she replies, "There's a difference." Yes, she's definitely not bitter... Not at all...
As he explains about his background in such drinks, her eyebrows lift in interest. "I haven't tried very much wine - I heard they're all different, but the stuff I've had was kind of sweet..." she says, the hint of disgust that flickers across her features indicating that was not to her liking, which is why she hasn't ventured to try more. "But I don't see why anyone would want to ruin this by making it any weaker, mixing it with something else - it all starts tasting like water pretty quickly. Why drink scotch if you don't want to taste the scotch?" she asks with a frown and a shake of her head. Just because she's still limited in her knowledge of alcoholic drinks on this planet doesn't mean that she doesn't have a firm opinion on how one ought to drink it. If you ask her, it's only a good drink if it doesn't need 'help'.
His last question causes her expression to shift back to amusement as she catches the reference to his story about Diana. "If you want to," she says with a laugh, sounding perhaps a little bit too amused by the offer, though her grin then gets a bit bigger as she comments, "I have a very high tolerance myself, you know."
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