Ruffled Feathers [Marc]

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Shayera's eyebrows lift a little when he mentions clubs and groups, as she hadn't really considered that option. Shrugging, she comments, "I don't really know what's available as far as that's concerned - I guess it never came to mind because it sounds so... formal. Not like a formal party, maybe, but the groups and such I'm used to are like... teams or squads - they mean work. I don't need more work in my life, if anything I should find a relaxed way to spend my free time and at least to me that suggests something not so organized." Pausing for a moment to sip her drink, her face grows amused as she adds, "I suppose I could join the Hawkgirl fanclub. Or the birdwatchers..."

As he goes on to speak so calmly about not needing any friends, a small frown spreads across her face but she refrains from speaking up until he's finished. Even then she pauses for a thoughtful moment before she says, "You must be incredibly spoiled in that department to say such a thing. You don't know what it's like to not have anyone, do you?" Because that's the only way that she can figure that he'd say such a thing. She, on the other hand, has experienced true loneliness at points and can't see how anyone else having felt it would take the idea of friendship so much for granted.

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As she shows a bit of apprehension at the mention of
clubs he lets out a short guffaw. One at his own
expense; not at hers. "I would have to say I am in the
same boat. I am aware such gatherings exist but I will
admit work and social engagements have kept my time
occupied. And for such an experience perhaps a team
approach may be better?" He's making an offer in such
a way that if she cares to decline it would be as easy
as politely ignoring his subtle hint. Or as easy as
going along with it. Either way he is making an offer.
A choice in a way for her to take and grasp or to
decline. Even if she cares not to further any more
interaction he has found a worthy drinking companion
for the moment.

He nods over his glass to her. "These gatherings- as
you put it can be organised as such. Some are more
formal with more strident rules and strict guidelines.
But it all depends on how you'd prefer to spend your
freetime. Engaging others in sport, or in something
more relaxed." His brow arches as she throws out a few
suggestions.

"To watch something that you could do so effortlessly
to me seems as a waste of time." He adds idly. Then
again he has a small fondness for watching new
practitioners of his own craft crash and burn. A small,
simple perverse pleasure one could label it. But a man
with tastes such as him tends to find most things
blase and in need of a more exotic outlet.

At least her emotions aren't veiled as his comment of
needing few people brings about a more cloudy look.
Turning on his seat to face her he raises a brow. "I
am acutely aware of having someone closer than I would
publicly admit to a new acquaintance torn from my
life due to my own error and missteps. Other than that,
I keep my confidants close, but not close at hand, if
that answers your question adequately, Shayera."
Raising his glass he finishes the last hearty amount
in one swallow before filling his glass again.

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The question causes Shayera to frown a little, certain that he's misunderstood what she was trying to say. "Well, like I said, teams mean work to me - something that I hardly want to do with my free time. What I'd want is something very casual," she clarifies, not realizing that she's the one who is misunderstanding. Subtlety in language is a tricky thing between people who are speaking what is a second language to both of them, as fluent as they may each be in it.

"It really depends on how they go about it. Even the most strenuous activity can be relaxed if the people involved are doing it to enjoy it instead of to compete with each other or themselves, and the most sedate can become grueling if they don't," she comments further, knowing that to be true. She's spoiled so many of what would have been pleasant days by spending them attempting to match or exceed some meaningless feat - often she succeeded, but that didn't make it any more meaningful.

Smirking a little at his raised eyebrow, in case it was unclear she comments, "I was joking." Both organizations are probably full of the kind of people she probably tolerates the least well after criminals: super-fans. She can handle them in small doses, but to intentionally inflict them upon herself is not something she'd consider to be an entertaining pastime.

As he touches on some of his past history that explains somewhat of why he has the opinion of friendship that he has, she realizes that she may have been just a little big broad and judgmental with her words. Probably because she has her own issues with friends at the moment, which she admits by saying, "Sorry... I may have managed to justifiably alienate myself to all of my friends and other significant relationships recently, so my feelings about friends are a bit strong at the moment." Not that her opinion about it has changed - only her level of passion.

The past year has both underscored just how much they mean to her while simultaneously taking them away from her - though most indications are that most won't turn out to be permanent. There are a few cases where she's worried that it may be and as this is all being worked out she's been feeling extremely lonely aside from a spark or two here and there of budding new friendships. Not that she'll readily admit to that emotion, but she will confess that she's not able to speak of them in a completely composed frame of mind.

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Leaning forward on his forearms to the bar, he nods. As she reiterates what he had stated, but in a different form he has to fight to keep a grin from forming. It seems that this Thanagar seems to be all work and no play. And if it is play, it's a peculiar form. "Define casual for me." He states as he swirls his glass.



She continues to extrapolate quite well in what she is looking for. As he listens he runs his hand along his jaw as he tries to pinpoint something that she could classify as 'fun.' "Those still sound like co-operative endeavors. Unless you are looking for something where each party acts to the best of their ability independantly but still contributes as a whole." And at the moment his mind is not as focused to compile a list of activities to choose from. Their banter is much more enjoyable than conjuring up lists of possible endeavors.



As she apologizes he captures a rare moment of vulnerabilty in a woman who portrays herself as nothing but an impenetrable force of strength and will. Probably a rare show of conscience if any. Reaching out to place his hand on her own he squeezes it firmly. "We push away those we care about the most at times. It is part of the give and take in life. We push, we pull. But we cannot do both at the same time. Don't forget to forgive yourself for your own percieved transgressions or you can never walk forward to grow closer to them." The phrasing may be a bit peculiar but that is due to his on the fly translation from his milk tongue to English. He's not only hoping, but also offers up a prayer that it comes across coherently to her before releasing her hand.

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His request causes her to pause for a moment as she considers it - what is casual to her? It's not difficult for her to picture it in her head, but how to translate it into words? "Hmm, you show up whenever you want, not at a set time, and people are happy to see you whenever you happen to get there. You wear whatever the hell you want and get complimented on it regardless, even if it's only, 'That looks comfortable.' If there's a specific activity you're doing, you do it for the fun of it and not to do better than someone else or yourself the last time you did it, and everyone enjoys seeing everyone enjoy themselves instead of discussing who was more successful. And then you leave whenever you want, nobody pressuring you to leave earlier or stay later, only happy to have seen you and hoping you come back again," she describes, unable to help the relaxed smile that comes to her face, "That is casual - at least on the extreme end." And hopefully with that better defined, they can be on the same page for this conversation.

While it may be true that she presents herself as impenetrable, it actually isn't that rare for her to admit to a fault or a weakness. It's just that she doesn't view those soft spots in quite the same way one would assume - just because she has them doesn't mean that she isn't still strong. You don't have to be hard as a rock in all ways to avoid being broken, and in fact being too hard can at times make you that much more likely to shatter when life hits you hard. Instead it takes a combination of strength and softness to bend without breaking but also have the strength to hold firm so that you don't bend too far. This is what Shayera is, or at least what she tries to be - she'd readily admit that she's often much harder than she needs to be.

His phrasing may be a bit odd, but she understands what he's trying to say and isn't that the most important part of a conversation anyway? Accepting his hand, she squeezes it back just as firmly - an acceptance of the comfort the gesture is supposed to convey. His words, however, cause her to sigh, "I'm trying. Some days I'm more successful than others. I can't say that I didn't do anything wrong, or that anything I did was accidental, but it was a mistake. Big enough that it's no small thing for me to ask anyone to forgive it - including myself," she says, both explaining but leaving even the smallest of details out of it - she doesn't want think about the specifics, let alone discuss them. Especially with a guy she just met and surrounded by potential eavesdroppers.

Instead she adds, "But I didn't mean to burden you with that. I just... am very aware of how important it is to have people who are close to you right now. And I hope you've forgiven yourself too." From the sound of it, he's no stranger to the overall feeling of having harmed someone you care about. Though she does suspect that whatever he did wasn't nearly as bad as what she's guilty of - he's probably actually incapable of any error that severe, as it's simply outside of his ability to get into such a situation.

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As he turns the glass in his hand he has to nod. The only closest thing he can come up with that is meeting those criteria is an open gym set up. Or an extremely close group of friends who don't care what you are wearing, but that you are there. "That is truly casual. And a setting that is fostered between close friends. Ones you have had for years or ones that understand the same task at hand. A gym I once frequented has that sort of atmosphere. Save for the commenting on attire. Men don't seem as disposed to take note of such things. Unless it is facial hair." He smiles back to her a slight crinkle at the edge of his eyes.

As she vaguely explains her own heartaches and plight he nods as she returned the affectation. "It's not going to come in a day- the forgiveness or the getting past it for you, or others. It will take quite a bit of self-reflection and patience. And the understanding that the others affected may never see eye to eye again with you. But you can only control your own actions and reactions."

He returns to his glass to drink again. A chuckle interrupts his sip and he erupts into a series of coughs as he covers his mouth and his eyes glitter at her in humor. Once the fit has ceased he turns to her fully. "This is no burden to me. It is sometimes in the rarest of places we find kindred companions. Those that have no prior knowledge are unable to judge in the same ways that those are closest to us are. And you were kind enough to explain-" he motions to her wings again with a wide grin. He's not one to point out peculiarities and differences in one's appearance, but this was a new circumstance he's never been in. And with a redhead!
lolo

As she mentions forgiveness his features go grave for a moment. "Daily I forgive and remind myself that I am only human. Flawed at that, with a depth of passion prone to fits of intensity, but that I, too, am worthy of forgiveness by others, as well.

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When Marc notes that what she described is something one tends to find among close friends, Shayera is quick to nod in agreement. That really is something that she misses - that uniquely relaxed atmosphere found among the people who you know and like the best. Something she doesn't really have right now - it will take some time and work before she can really get that back in her life. Fortunately, as Marc continues to speak, his words distract her from her more depressed feelings about that, at least for the moment. Smirking as he mentions what the different genders tend to comment on, she gives a thoughtful nod as she says, "A gym may be a good option for me."

His further words on the subject of forgiveness get a slow nod - it's nothing that she doesn't know very well already, but it's still something that bears hearing again during such times. Even the painful part of being reminded that she may have lost some things that she'll never get back - that's simply more realistic and ultimately more healthy to keep in mind than allowing herself to expect everything to be as it was before someday.

But her smirk is quick to return as he mentions her wings, nodding to his words. It is indeed different to talk to someone who doesn't know you as well - helpful to get an outsider's opinions on her thoughts, even. Her smirk fades as she comments, "And I'm only Thanagarian - and trust me, we have no more claim to perfection than humans. If anything, I'd say we have less. But yes, I'm worthy of forgiveness, even if I don't expect anyone to ever forget." A thought that's more than enough to encourage her to empty her glass - hopeful but all the same depressing in its way.

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There was a pang of something in her mannerisms. Remembrance. Pain. The ache for something. While he silently noted her reactions he was at the ready to refill her glass as need be, the level of liquor in the bottle steadily decreasing as they would banter and meander in conversation. Rubbing his jaw with a hand he'd nod. "I have had my share of luck at them. Some are more boutique in nature I am finding in this city. Others are more geared toward straight weights, others toward ballet which I find curious. Is there a specific training goal you are looking to meet, as well as a social endeavor?"

Turning on his seat he glances again toward the pool players. It seems one of the tables is soon to be vacated and he's mildly curious to see if she's any good. He can only sit so long before his body starts to get anxious to move again. The pitfalls of a rather active life he blames. So when his bright eyes fall back on her he nods, watching her carefully again. The topic at hand is not an easy one and he is only sharing what he knows personally as well. But in his experience alcohol and high emotions can produce explosions. And not always the good kind.

"We can always aim high. That is something I cling to when I am reminded of my own failures and aspirations. We can always try again." In turn he nods to her words. They sting and remind him of years gone by but it is a truth. One can forgive as it is freeing but forgetting such a transgression? That is rare.

His chin inclines toward one of the tables. "Do you play pool?" He starts, as he can't recall if he asked her prior. Perhaps the rather large quantities of Scotch are finally taking root on the Frenchman. "It seems that a table is opening up if you'd care to indulge a betting man." He grins at her before pouring another healthy glug into her glass and his own. "My legs get restless if I am stationary too long." He adds a bit awkwardly.

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"Overall conditioning, mostly," Shayera answers easily, "I took a six month hiatus from... well, nearly everything, so I just plain need to whip myself back into shape. I prefer to fly for cardio, hardly an indoor activity, but weight training works well for strength. Though I also like to change it up when I can to keep it from becoming boring routine."

Knowing better than to hope that anyone will forget what she's done, a certain realistic part of her knows that she simply has to accept that there's a blotch on her record with her friends, so to speak. Even with their forgiveness that will never go away, but with time and honest effort on her part to prove the value and sincerity of her friendship that blotch can be made unimportant. It's not like she's the first among her friends to unintentionally do something horrible, after all, and she managed to get over it with them. It's simply time for them to repay the favor in a way. They're friends, after all. Or at least, she hopes that they still are. She simply nods about trying again - she certainly intends to!

When his attention goes to the pool tables, he indeed asks a question that he's already asked. "Like I said, not well," she reminds him. She'll plead the fifth when it comes whether or not she's feeling the effects of the alcohol they've been drinking or not, but her mind is definitely still sharp. "But if you want to see me do it anyway, I'm game," she replies as she leaves her place at the bar, taking the opportunity to stretch one of her wings behind her once she's on her feet - she can empathize with restless legs, because though her own legs don't get that sensation another part of her does.

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He laughed partially at that one. "I cannot last too long in a gym with the monotony. I prefer swimming, running, some team ventures, but mostly smaller groups or alone-solo. It helps to clear my mind. But if you are looking for conditioning you should have no hard task in seeking that out. Most gyms, even of the more base level offer that."

He shrugs lightly and politely ignores his faux pas in repetition of questions. Sometimes one forgets, sometimes one is mildly inebriated. "Not my most favorite game, but perhaps we could go for a walk somewhere if our fellow limbs need a stretch?" He takes the time to settle their bill rather quickly, a card changing hands between him and the bartender, a slip of paper as well as a pen brought back to him. Flipping open his wallet he also sets two bills down as well, setting the signed receipt atop them. Working in the service industry, he understands good service and likes to make sure those are rewarded for going above and beyond. Nicely enough, the nearly half-empty bottle is recorked and wrapped as well for them to take with them. Corkage fees are quite worth it at times.

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Shayera simply nods as Marc remarks on how it would hardly be difficult for her to find a gym offering basic conditioning. She knows that's pretty much standard across the board - it just hadn't occurred to her that she could use a gym as a way to be more social when she's accustomed to working out alone. "As much as I'd like a flying partner, those are in short supply on this planet - of the relatively few who can fly, most wouldn't count it as exercise, and those who do can't keep up with me so that's bound to remain a solo activity," she comments, "But I suppose it would be nice to do other things among others." She's not an anti-social recluse, after all. Or at least she tries not to be.

His next suggestion causes her a moment of pause. "A ...walk?" she repeats back, as if to clarify, but then her expression turns amused as she adds, "Sure, why not?" Humans and their quirks... She may have been on this planet for over five years, but she's still not fully used to them.