Gal's Place (Open RP)

Dark Basilisk couldn't help notice Gertrude's nervous glances his way. Being a seven foot lizard often drew stares, sometimes even gasps of revulsion from passersby. He had long since learned to cope with the reality of being a monster, but sometimes he simply couldn't help feeling a little hurt when a mother grabbed her child and crossed the street when he came near.

"Can I get you all something from the bar, or kitchen? Another pitcher or some snacks?"

The woman seemed kindly enough. Even if she was frightened, she made the attempt at courtesy. Basilisk appreciated that. He shook his head in the negative.

"I think we're fine for now, thanks" His voice was deep and sonorous, with no hint of sibilance. As Gertrude began to return to the bar, he spoke again.

"Actually... You got any Grasshopper ale? Been a while since I had some, and you seem to be loaded for bear. I mean... It's fine if you don't carry it, but if you do, could I get a pint?"

The short monologue was the most that the man had said since entering the bar, and it seemed to have tired him out, as he set himself on a stool nearby and began gaing intently at the two playing pool.

((Sweet, I've been racking my mind trying to think of a good movie name, thank you.))

Isis can't help but laugh at Gal's worried expresion, "I was putting you on girl" she chuckles again, "It'd be great to meet a fan an' maybe make a friend." suddenly thought that maybe making her hero costume look like one of the ones from her movies wasn't such a great idea, and felt a bit self consious about meeting a fan though she put on her best face.

"Thank you, I certainly would" answered Falcon to Steve. She brought a hand to her hair and adjusted a fiery lock that had lowered to one of her eyes. She wasn't sure about what his words had meant, but she liked them nonetheless.
She held her glass in her right hand, and with the left one she reached for a menu, but she just brought it near, without browsing it yet. She was curious to hear something else about Steve.
"And what did you do when you woke up in this world two weeks ago? I'm sure that the story of your first days in Paragon City will be as fascinating as the story of your locomotive has been."
Her green eyes were filled of a genuine curiosity, her back slightly bent towards him.

[I agree with Gal, no one goes away here, so far all the posts of the thread have been great reading ]

((For Basilisk))

Gertrude turned from her rounds when the large reptilian spoke. Instead of hissing or what she would expect from a large snake, his tone reminded her more of something she had heard in her childhood, some cartoon or memory. She couldn't place it yet, but that surprised her. He hadn't spoken two words that she had heard, then he seemed to almost rest.

*Maybe little bursts of energy are all he has* she thought, remembering some small lizards she had seen in the deserts when her family vacationed. They could run like light for a short distance in the sun, then would stop and bask in the sun, only to repeat it.

"Did you ask for Grasshopper Ale?" Still a little hesitant, she moved within easy earshot. "Calgary beer, Big Rock Brewery? Not on tap, they can't ship tap to us, but we might have some in the back."

She dared a small smile, holding the bar tray to her chest, in case he wasn't friendly.

((OOC: Gertrude has a normal fear of reptiles, you know, reaching under something and finding a snake, etc... She will warm to anyone, waitress training, if they treat her ok.))

((For Isis))

"Spit girl," Gal said, letting out a breath of relief, "You had me goin'." Gypsy caught her eye and motioned to where Manion was just removing his jacket, her mouth pulled down slightly.

"Sweet is one 'a the best men I ever met. For all he's been through, surprising. Says the women in his life made all the difference, treats 'em right. That, an' he's hell on villains." She winked at Isis, very glad the mess had been straightened out.

"Will you excuse me for jus' a sec?" Vegas was passing by, and Gal grabbed her for quick stove duty. "This won't take a minute," Gal said to the dark-haired woman, quickly introducing Isis to her.

She took several huge steps, coming to Manion's table just as he had placed the menu down. Her voice was restained, for her, but could be heard at other tables.

"I heard what ya did the other night," she placed one large, black hand on the table and bent over. "Beth tol' me. Now, ta get this straight: you come inta' my place and offer the staff whatever ya want. They do a good job for me, and I thank you for appreciatin' em." She stood and pulled up to her full height, arms across her chest.

"You come in here an I offer you a free meal, 'cause I like your face and you gots manners. You don't pay me," her frown was as stunning as her smile, dark clouds on her forehead, "Have you got that, Mister?"

The look stayed for a moment, until she was sure he knew she was serious, then dissipated as quickly, replaced by a smile. "Now, you sit there and let a lady show you how cookin' is done!"

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and took over the grill, laughing quietly, and sharing the joke with Isis.

((OOC: Manion, meet Gal's creeping sense of humor. She is known to go from hot to cold quickly, and the other way around. You have not angered her, not at all, but she feels she can have a little fun, since you "owe" her for refusing her hospitality. Now, just like in the south, you have to bear a little good-natured ribbing to pay it off. Beth got the whole $40 btw.))

That so cultured a lady would spend time and interest on him, Steve felt a little inadequate. She was worth the time, of course, and he was surprised she didn't have several suitors around her at the moment. So much different than the ladies of his time, not in a bad way, either.

"Well, once tha' deal was struck, first lass I meet was this Azuria. She knows somethin' a magic, and she sort of, got me right." He didn't elaborate, the look on his face unsure, as though he didn't know precisely what had happened.

"I spent a lil' time wi' your local law, they clued me in to what's what here. Met Miss Gal at City Hall on my firs' trip out an she sorta' took me under her wing." He looked across the table, unsure how to say what he wanted, then just charged on.

"Blacks were'n allowed ta walk streets free an all when I was wee'. Not in tha' South anyways, an that always burned my pants. Pardon mi'lady," he apologized for his rough language. "She was leadin' a bunch o' other heroes aroun', showin them tha' ropes. Took pity on me, I suppose. I don' know all these modern things. Been tryin' ta catch up ta' the world.

"Ya got crime, aright. Tha's one thing not changed, only they got bolder. Takin' from a lady in the street, muggers, roughians. Well, I can control fire now, don' know how, and got steam backin' me up. So I do what I can, keep the women-folk safe as I can. You might think they'd a figured how ta' be stoppin' all o' that nonsense, a hundred years...

"A hundred years is a long time..." He trailed off, realizing how ancient he would seem. His world had no hot and cold running water, no switches for every need, no paved roads across the country, no skyscrapers.

((OOC: For what its worth it was only $20. Although Im sure that wouldnt have changed your reply much. ))

"I ... uh... " Manion seemed to be taken aback at what was being said to him. For two reasons. First, he had seen many a nasty smiting in his day, and certainly wasn't about to find out which brand Gypsy was using. Second she said she was a gypsy. All the stories he had read as a child did nothing to prepare him for the real thing. He hadnt even been sure, up to this point, that there were any left, or if they were even real.

Suddenly finding words again he said, "My name is Manion, a pleasure to meet you." He almost stood as he handed her his jacket, although he wasnt quite sure why. "And yes I think I'll try the Goulasch." He had been all set to have the Portabello Platter before it dropped off the menu, but the woman seemed proud that her recipe was the one used by Gal and Manion couldn't refuse. Besides he was a big fan of goulasch, he didn't realize they served it here.

"One more thing..." he said leaning over a little. "This may seem a little... odd. But, I was wondering if you served orange juice here. Im not really in the mood for alcohol tonight."

*****

Manion saw Gal purposefuly make her way over to him, and knew right away he'd messed up. He swore his heart skipped a beat at least twice as she explained the situation to him. Even though he was pretty sure she meant no harm, he still felt very small for obvious reasons. His eyes were at least twice their normal size and he fumbled with the menu a little. When she smiled he felt a little better, but he knew she meant business.

He was all set to try and explain himself when she turned suddenly and left him alone at the table.

((OOC: To Sib and Sweet. I honestly had no intention of leaving. I was just poking a little fun at myself is all, promise. Lets just write it off as a bad joke, and I promise I'll go home and work on my delivery a little more. ))

Falcon Kitiara was listening Steve intently; Azuria, how many times had she brought to the magic researcher some strange baubles. Glowing crystals, capes, books, and every time Azuria was quick and efficient with her analysis.
So Azuria had brought Steve to her laboratory, or at least, his mortal remains. But why? Perhaps a dream, or a vision, had told her to do it? Poor man. So many things he ignored, and probably would've never discovered; the name of the entity that brought his soul back, the ritual that Azuria had cast.

"I don't know how bad crime was a hundred years ago." She was taking great care in avoiding words like "Your times" or "your world" or "Your age" with Steve. She didn't want to support the idea that Steve's world was a dead one, of him belonging to a grave or a museum; she wished him to feel that the world he was in now was his as much as hers.

"But this city really has lots of criminals, and many of them with special powers. Controlling flames, as you do, or other elements, or minds, or using their powers to come back to their feet fully healed after you knock them down." She shakes her head. "Our contribution can really make a difference here."
"It seems to me though that you already found something to do here in Paragon City. And you say you fight to protect women? How... chivalrous." she spoke the last words with a smile: she hadn't thought that there were people like him in the city.

Gal returned to the grill, leaving Vegas to head into the warehouse for some special beer the bar had asked for. If it weren't for that girl, Gal realized, she would be sunk. Glancing back over to Manion, she saw he was shaken by her confrontation, she hoped not too much.

"And so, I bring you bread," Gypsy had returned, giving the order to Gal on her way past. "Now, Orange Juice I can find. Good for the hair and skin."

Unseen, she had slipped $20 back into his coat pocket, from Gal, with a note that he was welcome anytime, no reservation necessary. She wrote "Your face and disposition are good for business. Beth was smitten."

((OOC: Manion, you'll llearn that my humor can be dry and sneaky. Definitely consider this a place for you, if you like.))

Basilisk focused again on the waitress. He smiled a weary smile and nodded yes.

"Yeah. My hometown. If you've got some, that would be great."

The sound of a ball sinking into a pocket recaptured his attention. Corvus stood from her shot, smiled, and waggled a finger at Rock-hopper.

"And that's game. You want to lose another round, or do you give up?"

"Ecch... Too damned cocky for yer own good, you are. Alright. Darts, then. No money this time." He paused briefly and pointed to a spot along the wall opposite the dartboard, easily 35 to 40 feet from the target, "And you stand over there."

She analyzed the distance, nodded once, retrieved three darts from the board and took up her assigned spot. With a quick toss, a dart was in the air, arcing gracefully until it hit the dartboard directly in the centre of the bull's eye. Two more throws, and two more bull's eyes followed. She smiled at Rock-hopper, who was gazing, dumbfounded, at her.

"I think you owe me a beer."

With that, she walked past him, and took a seat at a stool to the left of Dark Basilisk.

((OOC: Actually, nicotine acts as a kind of sedative to Basilisk now. He was a pack-a-day smoker before he recieved his powers and hasn't been able to kick the habit completely. The things they don't tell you about having your DNA altered... ))

After a moment, Gypsy returned with some bread, which Manion accepted with a "Thank you." and he couldnt help but smile a little at her comment about the juice.

The bread was perfect, just the way he liked it. Still warm from the oven, soft in the middle and the crust was just hard enough to hold everything together.

As he savored his first bite, he had a debate with himself over leaving a tip. "She did say I couldnt pay her... I wonder if she would be upset if I still tipped Gypsy. I'd be commiting a crime if I didn't do something to say thank you. My father raised me better than that."

<sigh> "Guess I'll cross that path when I get there." he said out loud.

((OOC: Manion, like I said in a previous post, is what I might call a "social speed bump". Some subtle things can hit him right between the eyes, others just go right over his head. As far as Gal's humor... well, he may catch on eventually. Right now hes just thinking that his attempt at a thank you was misuderstood, and is trying to find a way to rectify the situation. Personally I understand it fine, but Manion is just gonna have to stumble along for a bit. ))

SweetThang got to Gal's Place as fast as his feet could get him there. The asphalt wasn't even cool when he zipped out of Big Al's Vintage Record & Movie Posters store in The Gish. He had helped Al Morelli a few months ago when some Skulls started extorting him for protection money. He picked up the posters and thanked Al. "I think I can dig up a few soundtrack albums from some of these movies Sweet, if yer in'trested." Al said, through his stubby cigar. "That would be great Mr. Morelli...Al. I just might need to find me a record player. Have a good night Al. Thanks again." Sweet said as he left the store at 65mph. ((OOC:Super Speed+Super Jump+Hasten=Mighty Fast!!!))

The restaurant was busy when he arrived. Sweet felt a bit nervous about meeting a former Hollywood actress. Sure, a lot of people didn't remember her...but she was still Tinseltown Royalty. He got to meet a few big stars in his travels, but he still got starstruck when he saw them.

"Ms. Beth, Mr. Martin...I think Gal's expectin' me." he said with a dry throat. "I hope Gal don't mind seatin' me at the bar, as I forgot to wear my jacket. Street clothes are the real me." he chuckled. SweetThang dropped a few DVD's and a cardboard tube, then bent to retrieve them.

Isis poked and ate her desert, trying to make it last as long as possible, and made small talk with Vegas. until Gal returned.
"Sorry I worried you sistah, but your expresion." she grinned.
"Anyway, whacha mean by what he's been through? I been talkin to people an it seems t'me that everyone's got somethin. I ran with gangs, you beat up some guy who deserved it an' I'm sure that's jus' the surface.

Also I'm sure all of us have done good. Why else would they be callin us heroes? Though I'm jus' here cause I want to make a dif'rence." she pauses for a moment, "So when's he going to get here, t'be honest I never really talked to any of my fans so it's kind of exciting."

((For Falcon))

"How could I nah? A man sees a lady in the street, some hoodlum tryin' for her satchel, an all these young men jus' a walkin' by? Nah, 'tis nah right!" He became more animated, losing some of the timid manners he felt being near a lady, and not just a woman, he still felt this was a Lady.

"So, I walk out inta' the day, an the whole 'o the world has changed. They've holes in the wall, ye' can connect up a hose from yer gee-gaws and they work. Folks, they all got these carriages an' can go about on roads. Ye' got a mayor tha' ain't owned by the rails, men an women," he emphasized the last word, as though it was surprising, "flyin' about an fightin' these spacemen. 'S enough ta' make a man forget tha' there be lasses and gents, no powers on 'em.

"So, I see a lass an some tough is pullin' her bag. I'm ta' walk on by? Dark day in 'ell that'll be!" His nostrils were flaring, steam making a steady wreath around his head. "Oh, pardon mi'lady, pardon a man for his tongue. Jus', can't see how a hero would not come ta' her aid. I were in trouble with the road, come an a day, for how they treated the Chinamen what laid the tracks."

His voice quieted, and he glanced around. The bar was animated, several tables talking amongst themselves, no one seeming to take interest in him. Customs might change, they might be the same, but some men watched over their shoulder.

"Sad ta' say mi'lady Falcon, the word was every rail laid on a Chinaman. Were a tough life. I can say, I am glad ta see that so many can live together here. All colors, all kinds," he leaned across the table, confiding a secret, "some I kinna say are e'en human."

((OOC: Steve is not prejudiced, in fact, he was an open mind in his day. I'm not prejudiced either, but trying to convey some of the wonder a man from 100 years ago would feel to see what the world has become. It may not be perfect, and it may have a long way to go, but compared to 1900 America, Paragon is the model of integration.
Steve owes Gal a debt, and there will be more about how he knows her, how Martin came to be in her service (when he is the great-great grandson of Steve's father's Butler). Oh, the plot twists, and Steve is enraptured by the fair Falcon, but men did not just blurt out lewd comments in his day. Even complimenting her on her style would be for the third date, lol.))

((For Isis and Sweet))

"I can't speak for him, girl," Gal ran a heavy steel scraper across the grill plates, then used a towel to remove some spilled sauce before it became paint in the heat. "Sweet has helped a lot a folks in this town, got his own reasons. Got some suspicions, too." She looked across the room and caught sight of the man coming in the door.

"Ya can ask him yourself," she smiled as Martin intercepted Thang at the door. "Beth!" Her raised voice caught the girl's attention as she seated another table.

A moment later, the earnest young woman came to the grill, smiling and nodding at Isis. "Yes, Ms. War?"

"Go tell Martin that someone in the Bar ordered a Partagas D number four, and he needs ta fetch it. When he leaves, tell Sweet ta come up here." Beth hurried away and Gal said to the side, "Bet he's givin' Sweet the business about a jacket, but he's a good man, too."

One thing Gal knew about Martin, when a guest requested something, especially something Martin considered in good taste, there was no obstacle he would not try for it. There was one place a fine cigar afficianado could find something like the Partagas: Tuck and Sole, Gentlemen's Sundries. That was a ten minute ride by tram, in Founder's Falls.

Good could be said for dedicated staff. Gal waved Sweet up to the grill after Martin had his umbrella and hat. He looked so New Avengers, Gal almost laughed.

"Marcus Sweet Thang, please meet Isis." Gal introduced them, then "Now, please pardon me, I have to finish this lie or Martin will force that damn corset on me, insisting it is 'proper'."

((OOC: I assume you two will share some stories or at least occupy each other for a few?))

((For Basilisk))

Gal came through the kitchen doors, moving faster than usual and caught sight of Gertrude in the pool room. She saw Steve and the elegant Falcon, apparently enjoying each other's company and paused.

"Is everything well here? Dinner? Ya look lovely this evenin' Miss Kitiara." She paused to chat for only a moment.

"Gertrude," she said entering the gaming room, taking in the penguin and lizard. Strange, but stranger was out there. "Has anyone been in here, the smoking section? I got Martin runnin' an errand, pickin' up some cigars, and I need someone ta' get them to."

The dark-haired waitress smiled, she was in on the joke.

((OOC: Basilisk, if you like killing yourself, word is the Partagas is the best way to go. Consider the bill covered, and Martin will definitely give you his attention, if you desire, when he returns. "Such taste for the finer things, sir. I applaud you."))

Isis smiled, impressed at how well Gal knew and controlled those under her. She fixed her hair again for the umpteenth time, it being the only thing about her that's phisically changed in the past thirty years. She smiled as they were introduced, "It's good t'meet a brothah who's out makin a dif'rence. Gal's tol' me some about you but glazed over details." She struggled a bit, unsure what to say.

[ QUOTE ]
"Marcus Sweet Thang, please meet Isis." Gal introduced them, then "Now, please pardon me, I have to finish this lie or Martin will force that damn corset on me, insisting it is 'proper'."

[/ QUOTE ]

He held out his hand and remembered the DVD's he had, and shifted them to the other hand. "Pleased to meet you Ms. Jones. I've watched nearly all of your movies. Some of them are harder to find though." he said, offering his hand for a solid handshake. He had super strength, but knew how to ease up on handshakes.

"I hope you don't mind me asking Ms. Jones, but...could you sign these for me? I hate to act a' fool in front of movie stars, and I hope I'm not coming across as an autograph hound." he opened the poster tube and slid out three old movie posters. He laid them out reverently on the table besides the two DVDs. "I'm having trouble finding a copy of "7th Avenue Angel." Must not have made many of them."

"So...what brings you to Paragon City, Ms. Jones?"

As Manion sat, contemplating his situation, and waiting for Gypsy to return, he noticed a familiar man enter the restaraunt. He wasnt dressed up like he had been the other night, but he looked comfortable. He also looked excited, almost boyish as he waited to be seated. He could hardly hold onto the parcels in his hands. Manion thought it stange on a man of his stature, and wondered what might have gotten him so worked up. He was seated at a table near him, with the woman Gal had been talking to.

"Nice trick on Martin." he thought. He had caught part of what Gal had said and could peice together the rest. He remembered "the eye".

Thinking of that suddenly reminded him. "Beth... I hope Gal wasn't too rough on her." He seriously didn't believe it, and dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his head, shaming himself for even thinking it. Still he was curious as to how she was doing.

From his seat he could smell the goulasch cooking, his mouth started watering and he couldnt wait to try it.

Falcon Kitiara was getting used to the irish accent of the man, and by now she could understand almost everything he said; she saw him flaring when he talked about helping crime victims, flaring because of the people that simply walked by. She could understand him perfectly: these were the feelings she had experimented the first times she fought against muggers; now she didn't feel so strongly against those people, but still there were times when she felt enraged just the same.
She could understand that normal citizens would wish to stay out of trouble, one of those criminals was enough to kill a non superpowered person. But these people weren't even going to use their expensive mobile phones from a safe distance to call the police. Now how coward could that be?

"There are, in fact, some heroes that aren't quite human. Have you seen around people with horns, with tails, with scaly skin? Human beings don't have these things."
She sipped her beer and licked her lips to dry them.
"It's not to cause offense to them, mind you! But we can't say they are humans if they aren't. However their not being human doesn't mean they are not people; no matter your race, the color of your skin, the horns on your head, if you come from space or if you come from another time" she raised her glass toward Steve, winking, as if suggesting a toast to him "what truly matters is your sense of justice. Your... if I may call it so... honor."

She then looked at Gal getting near, and greeted her with a nod of her head and a polite smile.
"Thank you for your words, ms. Gal; let's say that the outfit I wore yesterday needed rest more than me. Everything is great, as usual: both the service and the company."
After a hidden glance to Steve, she said to Gal "I would surely enjoy dining. What about you, Steve? Do you need a bit more time to choose your meal?"

((OOC: You know if you weren't so good at involving players characters with NPC I wouldn't monopolise them so much. I mean so much has happened since Beth asked for Alex and Wendy's drink order I'm not sure where to begin.))

[ QUOTE ]
((For Alex and Wendy))

"That was great," Beth said as she seated the two beneath a spreading plant of some exotic origin. The leaves trailed out form a large main trunk, and left fragrant perfume with the motion of the vents' air.

"Martin can be so tight," she seated the lady first. "I am Beth, and your server will be Gypsy this evening. Can I start you with something to eat, or perhaps a glass of wine? We have bread from Three Miner's Bakery, and I can bring that with olive oil, balsamic vinegar from Modena, Italy or our house flavored oil/vinegar?"


[/ QUOTE ]
Alex leaned his chair back on its hind legs taking the compliment in completely. "Glad ya liked that Babe, why don't you run off and get me a pitcher of..." and with that Wendy gave his shin a sharp kick causing him to lose balance and grab the table to avoid falling on his back. "What the heck did ya do that for?" he stammered at Wendy.

Wendy had a very smug look on her face, but she had really wished he had fallen on his back. "Her name is Beth not Babe and you only need to tell her what you want not how to get it. Now try it again and order me a cosmo." She smiled at Alex showing her teeth with an unspoken promise in her eyes should he screw this up.

Alex knew he wasn't the brightest guy, but he also knew when he was pushing a woman's limits and not knowing Wendy that well he didn't want to see what she was like when she was mad. She had already thrown him through a wall just to see if he was indestructable like he claimed. He hadn't believed it was possible at first, but she claimed that her mind was stronger than his body, and he had found that out the hard way. "My apologies Beth I would like a Newcastle and Wendy here will have a cosmo. The bread sounds great, with the house flavors." He turned back to Wendy and gave her a questioning stare.

Wendy just nodded to him.

Isis couldn't help blushing at his eagerness. She put her hand in his and shook it, "Nah, call me Isis please. Miss Jones is... was for another decade. When I was famous I woulda insisted on Miss Jones t'keep distance. I admit, the fame got to my head some. After my accident... I'da prob'ly run away. Now, I'm a big girl and the fame's over. You might be a fan but that don' mean we can't be friends. I'd be more'n happy t'sign whacha got there. You know I got plenty 'a' posters at home. How'd you like if I gave you some?" She glances at the dvds, "Ehhh... D'you got a pen for me t'write with?

I come here for the same reason everyone else. T'give it to The Man." she grins and winks, "Nah, really I'm here cause the stuff here is leakin out. Yeah they got those force field walls but no one's perfect. Somehow some kids, gangers, got some 'a' that drug subradine an I tracked it here. I cleaned up my home, now I plan on doin the same here. How about you?"

((For Falcon))

"I'm har'ly dressed for the dinin' room, mi'lady. Truth be told, the cost of a good set o' boots, tha's more'n I made in a month's wages on the road. Miss Gal's been more'n generous, but takin' money from a lady, tha' ain't right. Now, this Icon tailor shop, well, 'tis a far way for a man ta' afford decent pants, not speakin' o' a jacket and tails."

He looked slightly embarrassed, conscious of how his shirt and pants clashed with the cape and spotless dress of the lady. In a gesture unbidden, he wiped his bald head with the handkerchief again.

"I'd nah want ta be the cause of any fuss, nor be between you and the dinner you deserve, mi'lady," he stood, making a move to take Falcon's chair when she rose ((if she rises)). "Ya have been overly kind, an a source of much pleasure in yer parlay wi' me. Ya should enjoy yer dinner among finer folk then the likes o' a workin' man. Would imagine many a landed man would give his tracks for a bit 'o the evenin' wi ya."

((OOC: True, Martin would keep even the much honored Mr Broady from the restaurant without a jacket. Steve would be honored to spend more time with Falcon, but I can't have my characters traipsing through Gal's place and then send other's away. The actual character is only level 4, lol, and doesn't have the Inf to afford good clothes, yet. His Ball RR watch will come into play if he gets reinvited another night, Falcon is such....stimulating company. You don't have to feel rejected Falcon, you may dine in the bar or find other entertainment in the restaurant, Steve would not be offended.))

((For Alex and Wendy))

"Thank you ma'am," Beth said to the young woman. "And I am sorry sir, but we are not allowed to serve more than half a liter at one pour in the restaurant, local liquor laws. I can bring you two glasses, but no pitcher.

"Gypsy," she pointed to where the darkly attired woman was speaking to another man near the Grill, "will bring your bread and drinks. Please, enjoy your dinner." She smiled and walked back to the podium.

A few minutes went by, the crowd beginning to show, but the small area near the couple stayed clear, a small oasis protected by the fragrant tree.

"Good evening," a woman with the dark skin and pitch colored hair of her race, said. "I am Gypsy, lady has ordered the Kossmopo-litan and Sir has the beer. I bring bread and the dipping sauce. Tonight we have specials of Mussels in sauce, baked or Prime Rib. Should I come again for the order or stay?"

She had a thick accent, carefully pronouncing the words to be understood. Deep, rich red tones in her clothing mixed with gold and black embroidery, billowing pants and a cross-drawn blouse, allowing plenty of movement. Tall black boots, laced to the toe at her feet and a stiff-material scarf at her head, her black eyes came to rest on the man's face. Beth had warned her.

((OOC: Gypsy's Queen, D/D Scrapper. She is the last of her race, in Paragon as she flees the gangs that exterminated her clan (Column and now the Council). She carries magick from the old world, which makes her a target, and also a force to be reckoned with. She will accept some abuse, but know she is a royal, and has a temper. ))

Beth had been circling his table, trying to find a time when there weren't any other's close enough to hear a conversation. As Gypsy left to get his dinner, she saw the opportunity.

"Mr. Manion, Manion," she began, looking down at her folded hands. "That was very nice, what you did. Gal, she treats me really nice," she was keeping an eye out, trying to make sure neither Gal nor Gypsy saw her. "She has a thing about charity, gets mad if people give her things. She wants to earn her way. I just wanted to tell you thanks, but I had to tell Gal, you understand?"

((OOC: Beth is a single girl, trying to get back on her feet after being a runaway. Gal and her partner, Sibling, try to watch over several people from the local shelter.))

Wendy leaned across the table and stared hard into Alex's eyes. "You've done well Alex, you've managed to piss off everyone we've talked to." She sucked in air between her teeth. "Now do me a favor and treat everyone with a pleasantry that befits a gentleman." She slowly sat back up straight and gave Alex a purposeful look. After a bit she asked, "Now tell me about boxing up in Maine. What was that like?" A smile spread acros her face and an eager look shown in her eyes as she propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward to rest her chin on her hands.

"Well there wasn't a man I..." he started.

[ QUOTE ]
"Good evening," a woman with the dark skin and pitch colored hair of her race, said. "I am Gypsy, lady has ordered the Kossmopo-litan and Sir has the beer. I bring bread and the dipping sauce. Tonight we have specials of Mussels in sauce, baked or Prime Rib. Should I come again for the order or stay?"


[/ QUOTE ]

"can't remember what I was going to say." Alex finished.

"Hello Gypsy." Wendy greeted Gypsy and gave her a quick look over. She liked the look on the lady, but would never bring herself try something like that on. "My name is Wendy and this is Alex." she gestured to Alex with a wave of her hand. "If you could give us say about 15 minutes before we order that would be great." Wendy was pretty sure that not giving Alex the chance to talk was the best plan here. Dread filled her though as he gave Gypsy a smirk and a real heavy, "Hello."

Manion found himself once again, a little surprised. "You must be an empath." His tone was half joking, half asking.

"And its ok, last night I wanted you to tell her, I was just trying to say thanks. I didnt mean to offend." he said with a slight frown.

"I just got done getting set staight by Gal. I see what you mean by not wanting charity. I was hoping I didnt cause too much trouble for you last night between that and the name tag thing with Martin."

"Maybe you can help me wrap my head around this." he said, taking the opportunity to as Beth a question since she seemed to know Gal. "If I cant pay for my meal, or at least tip her, then what can I do? I dont want to upset her, and the last thing I want to do is seem ungrateful. Just 'cause Ive had a bad week, doesnt mean I can come in here and take advantage of the hospitality you ladies have shown me. Up until now the only way I knew to say thanks in a place like this was with money." He paused to gather his thoughts looking up at her.

"I do some pretty nasty things to people, and I use that term loosely, sometimes. Everyone of them deserves it though. I make sure. Muggers, muderers, rapists, you name it. Well, you dont deserve to be treated nasty. Call me sensitive, but just leaving here last night, without some kind of gesture in return would have made me feel like I was being nasty. Not the same I know, but still, thats just me I guess."

He stopped, suddenly self conscious and aware that he had gone off on kind of a rant. He looked back at the table, and at his hands in front of him.

"I'm sorry. Im glad I didn't get Gal mad at you. Please tell her Im sorry. She left before I got to say anything. And... your welcome." he looked back at her, and followed her eyes around the room.

"I can see things are starting to pick up, I should let you get back, before I really do cause you trouble."

He said this last part with a smile, hoping she understood that he wasn't trying to brush her off.

((OOC: Manion likes being a hero, it helps him to forget about his less than stellar past. But sometimes he doesnt like the things he's forced to do as a hero, things that remind him of that past all over again. So he takes every opportunity to be as nice to "good people" as he is nasty to "bad people". He can see that Gal and the other ladies are good people, which might explain his eagerness. Also in regards to his past all I can say so far is this: throughout his little rant, he habitually pulled down the sleeves of his tee-shirt, he does it subconsciously although it would appear on the outside that he was trying to cover his arms. The shirt is still new and hasnt quite fitted to his frame yet, an observant listener would see tatoos on either arm, just peeking below the hem of his sleeves.))

[ QUOTE ]
"Hello Gypsy." Wendy greeted Gypsy and gave her a quick look over. She liked the look on the lady, but would never bring herself try something like that on. "My name is Wendy and this is Alex." she gestured to Alex with a wave of her hand. "If you could give us say about 15 minutes before we order that would be great." Wendy was pretty sure that not giving Alex the chance to talk was the best plan here. Dread filled her though as he gave Gypsy a smirk and a real heavy, "Hello."


[/ QUOTE ]

Gypsy was just finishing with the bread, the woman had indicated fifteen minutes, but the man had answered separately, with a greeting. Americans could be strange in their customs, men were usually the dominant one in the couple, but women got preferential treatment. She looked between them, he was smiling but she frowned, perhaps he was the more friendly.

"Hello to you. Perhaps you would like for the appetizer," she pointed in the menu to the list. "I will be happy to serve you."

((OOC: Oh yes, she's lived here for some months, but Gypsy can be confused like anyone else. She would realize that a smile is not always friendly, but expects good will from anyone here, which I will leave up to you. It does not have to be innocent good will, I enjoy finding odd situations. Be aware though, if you have not read her bio, Gypsies as a group are taught, boys and girls, to handle trouble...))