[center [size7 Ignore this. I'm trying to write something. ^^]]
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[center [size18 [Dancing+Script The way he said “view...” while their conversation progressed gave her the distinct idea that he hadn’t meant the window, or the bar. She listened quietly and smiled before reaching for her now full glass, she took a long sip emptying it, and consequently she noticed her bottle was empty too. Neala looked over to Braun the bar-keep, whose back was turned as he organized the liquors meticulously by color from, dark, golden, light and then to clear followed by a rainbow of the flavored drinks. She focused on her cupboard full of scotches and spirits along with a select few wines. She imagined a bottle pulling to the door and knocking gently to get his attention, and just that happened. From inside the cupboard came a soft wrapping of the bottle against the wood. Braun turned to see Neala’s golden eyes creased softly into a smile and her left corner of her mouth lifted to a smirk. Braun let out a huff of air audibly and opened the cabinets door.
The bourbon lifted and floated over to her table taking a spot. [+blue “Icarus, though my last name is not as elegant nor is it the title to a bar or any building to speak of.”] he said. She caught his name after the bourbon landed and noted that he did at least know who she was now. She liked his name for certain. She’d have to make a sun joke at his expense, and hopefully he had a wonderful sense of humor. She listened on as he made mention of wanting to know where this encounter could go. She smirked, and this time poured a glass by hand. [+blue “I'm new here, a friend pointed me this way, he said it was a nice place to stop for a drink. It seems he was right.”] Icarus said lastly as Neala smiled. [+darkgoldenrod “Oh... were they now?”] she chuckled holding up her glass and her bourbon, [+darkgoldenrod “Would you like a drink Icarus?”] she asked his name lifting from her tongue in a playful manner. [+darkgoldenrod “As for titles, we shall see.”] she finished taking a small sip and sighed in happiness at its taste. ]
Icarus watched the way her nose wrinkled with disdain as he sipped his beer. Not a lot of people had a taste for hops, the flavor that often overpowered most beers, he liked the earthy tone to it. He could always sip whisky or something else that would burn the throat but he was perfectly fine with his beer.
He did not flinch or show shock as the bottle poured itself just like he did not do a double take when the rag had swirled along the bar top on it's own. He seemed use to such things, he was no mere mortal who had wandered in by chance.
At last the book closed, he looked pleased to be holding her attention so fully now. He would be careful not to lose it because she now him just as interested.
At last she offered her name, he was quick to note that the bar really was hers and that is why she fit it so well. It seemed this really was her corner, her name was on the deed after all.
“well, I didn't know it was your corner, like I said before the view was just too tempting to give up,” however this time he wasn't talking about the view of the window. He did not specify this outloud. “Icarus, though my last name is not as elegant nor is it the title to a bar or any building to speak of.”
He set down his bottle and offered her his hand, “it is nice to formally meet you, I guess we are no longer strangers, let's see what title we can decide on before the evening is over,” his voice purred with enjoyment, perhaps she would keep his evening interesting, simply speaking to her was enough to make him want to stay put.
“I'm new here, a friend pointed me this way, he said it was nice place to stop for a drink. It seems he was right.”
[center [size18 [Dancing+Script Neala chuckled again at his all to amusing confidence. He really had her there. She did in fact say “hello” first. He moved to her though and that warranted conversation, or at least her curiosity. He probably had no clue who he was talking to. ‘How quaint’ she thought.
He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and drank from it. A beer… Neala held back a grimace. She was never fond of that drink. She preferred the bite of a Scotch or the warmth of a rum. Depending on the day of course. She left her glass floating in the air and it swayed in a circle with the ice gently clanging against it. She took a last sip and set it down. As the glass met the table her bottle lifted and poured her more before returning to it’s station on the table.
So, she would humor him for the moment. Neala’s book made a clapping when its pages met, and it closed; she set it gently on the table and leaned into the conversation. [+darkgoldenrod “How rude of me indeed,”] she said with a quirky grin, [+darkgoldenrod “My name is Neala Golden-rose, and yes, you’re right I spoke to you first, but mind you, this is my corner and you entered it.”] She said not taking her eyes from him, waiting for answers once more. She studied his features, his dark hair, his blue eyes, and he had a fine face. One may even call him cute. She wondered if he were from somewhere out of town. She’d never seen him, maybe he knew the bars name rather than just it’s location. After all, “Golden-rose Tavern” was her own.]
A laugh spilled from her lips, it was delightful for hear, it announced that she at least liked his sense of humor. He could feel her looking at him again, he had honestly looked away because her green gaze was so enticing he felt like he might just get lost in those Emerald ponds, but he knew not to forget that he did not know what lay beneath the surface.
He chuckled with her enjoying their small moment before she at last popped the big question, she even sipped her drink and offered him a chance to answer. He wasn't going to hand over that answer readily, the game had just begun.
"I've heard it's rude to ask ones name before offering your own," he stated as he reached for his drink and met her gaze, his eyes trickled with amusement. "M, curious, about you? I simply sat down where there was a nice view, you're the one who spoke first," and with that he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and sipped.
[center [size18 [Dancing+Script Neala sat quietly through all his questions watching his gaze move from the window to the bar. He was right about the view. It was nice no matter which direction your gaze was trained. The sunset was her favorite part of the sights, but she had to admit that the people indeed found their way into her books. Sometimes just their voices became the character, other times it was often their entire appearance. It depended she supposed. As for her Westly, she had none to speak of, and none of the patron’s nor the passersby ever seemed to perfectly fit that role. Then again, she was no Buttercup. That didn’t stop her from inserting herself into the story on some days. She smiled looking at the man whose blue eyes had warranted her attention somehow.
[+blue "Could we say the man at the bar is Fezzik?"] The man in front of her stopped looking at Neala and averted his gaze to the bar.
[+darkgoldenrod “Braun… be Fezzik?”] she released a chuckle at the thought. Yes, he was the right build, but she never even had the idea cross her mind, and how odd it was that she would exclude such a magnificent candidate.
[+darkgoldenrod “Yes he would be perfect. Haha.”] She smiled looking at the man whose blue eyes had warranted her attention somehow.
[+darkgoldenrod “Why are you so curious about little ole’ me though… Mister...?”] she posed this as a question and waited for a response holding her golden gaze on him while lifting the scotch to her lips for another sip.
Icarus felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched the bartender silently threaten him. If he wasn't heading over this meant that he was given silent permission to be in her territory, so far. He still did not speak until she did, his gaze still lingering on the last rays dipping away.
"Hello," he responded, "You have quite a nice view here," he commented lightly. He noted that he had not heard the book pressed close, she was still caught in the moment of any line she had just read. He hoped to pull her interest to the moment she was in.
"Now I can't tell if you sit here to watch the sun set or do you sit here so you can peer at the people as they pass by," he questioned his gaze falling on the outline of passing pedestrians, their shapes misshapen and dull from the thick glass.
"Perhaps it's the patrons? It's a great view of the bar," his gaze now swept across it, it was mostly empty at the moment. "Do you place them into your books," he asked at last tilting his head so his blue gaze met hers. "I'm just so curious, who is your Westley?"
He questioning paused for a moment as he kept his gaze on her for only a moment more before peering back at the bar. "Could we say the man at the bar is Fezzik?"
[center [size18 [Dancing+Script Neala was lost reading her book. The pages smooth and turning easily. The books spine worn down from the number of times she’d read it. Twenty-five? No, twenty-six she was sure. Hers was an original print and anyone looking at it could probably tell. Most people didn’t read at a bar, but she owned it, or at least half of it. So, it was like a homey place for her to be. She heard Samuels voice at the bar but was to caught up in the book and the images she was illustrating in her mind from it's words. Her eyes lit up as she read through the words "As You Wish". She loved it and the way she saw it gave her chill bumps. Every time.
She was ripped from her imagination and the words of her story by a soft sound on her table and the movement of a chair on the floor. She looked up as a long neck beer bottle was placed next to her own bottle of Scotch. She looked at the gentleman a bit confused. No one ever approached her corner without knowing her, but here he was… this man. She moved her gaze to the bartender and he placed his fist in his hand. She waved him of with a smile and he went back to his duties. The rag on the bar kept scrubbing by itself after he let it go and went into the back, and she looked back to the man whom had sat next to her. [+darkgoldenrod “Hello there?”] She smiled posing her hello as a question in her soft and sweet Irish lilt accent. He black curl fell from behind her ear again and she blew it back from the side of her mouth and awaited his response. She hoped it was interesting… ]
If Icrasus tilted her head and peered out the thick window darkened so you could only make out the shape of things. He could tell the sun was setting by the odd shades it threw across the top of the bakery across the way. It was small store that was open late so it could sell baked good to the drunks as the bar began to close.
He thought for himself how he should come here more often, it was a nice change of pace. He held the bottle by the neck, his thumb pressed across the top as he lifted it up. His thoughts where pulled away from drinking the beer as the door swung open.
A breath of fresh air swept through the restaurant. The old man who kept the bar stopped ignoring him and his poor taste in alcohol and turned his attention to the door.
Icarus found himself looking.
A woman entered like she was coming home. There was no shyness, no meek glance about as she stride to a seat set aside just for her. He watched her settle in place blissfully unaware of him. He found himself staring for a long moment trying to read the title of her book.
The bartender cleared his throat, "she has finer taste then you," the man informed. Icacrus would roll his eyes as he rose from the bar, he would finish off the beer in one last swig and put it on the bar in act of retaliation. "One more beer please," he said sweetly as he stepped away.
With his hands free he was able to seize up one of the seats on the floor . He would take it and set it beside her. The old man would frown as he brought him a beer. "Thanks," he would say kindly even tipping him a few bucks to show he meant well but he had to get the man back for his comment. He still had no said a word to him as he set his bar nect to her glass. He leaned back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap as he innocently watched the sun set the rest of the way.
[center [size18 [Dancing+Script The woman walked into the old stale bar. She stood a moment smelling the air breathing in the scene, a sweet familiar scent she knew all too well. Warm lights hung over the bar and the ten tables set about randomly, as well as three booths. She smiled to the keep and he placed a bottle on the table. Grabbing her always ready bottle of scotch her golden eyes creased in the corners and her soft pink lips formed a smile as she sent a nod of thanks to the bartender. She walked to her favorite lounge chair in her self proclaimed "reading corner". The soft but worn blue chair sat next to a dark colored wooden side table. The chair had a Victorian style back with carvings of vines in the wood. A wave of her hand over the table caused a light purple and blue glow which disappeared as she closed her fist gently to reveal a glass with four cubes of ice in it, and a book sitting next to that. The worn cover had only eight legible letters "T__ P__n__ss Br__e" She smirked and sat down with the bottle in hand.
She tapped the center of her brow with a thin, delicate finger and glasses appeared in a similar fashion on her fair skinned face with a few freckles gently dotting across her nose and cheekbones. She tucked a dark curl in behind her ear, opened and poured a glass a crack coming from the ice being covered by the dark golden brown liquid cascaded over and filling the glass. With a happy sigh she relaxed to take a long sip and opened her book. [+periwinkle "Ahh"] she exclaimed setting the glass back on the table. She dug in all to contently, getting lost in it's slightly yellowed pages. ]]]
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