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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 0:01:39 GMT -5
BAM!
An empty pint of still-bubbling Murphy’s was slammed down rather forcefully on the ancient oak-paneled bar, leaving a couple dents that the broad-shouldered, scruffy bartender would grumble about later. This pint was the sixth in about a half hour for the young and restless Sidney Cross, who was trying to get as drunk as he could possibly get off of 10 Euros. He had enough left for about half of a pint. He informed the bartender of this, but the bartender wouldn’t have it. Nope, no half-pints here. Especially not for a spinner with dark circles under his eyes and a glass pipe in his inside pocket.
Sidney clamped his hand to his forehead. The shakes were starting to come again. They were going to start at his bootcut jeans, overtake his torso wrapped in a bomber jacket, and extend out to his hand and long piano fingers. His temples started to whiten with the evened pressure of his hand, and he began to get scared that one of his powers would burst out under the tension. The bar was full, as one of the home-grown Irish football sides was battling a Premier League team. The patrons, composed of almost entirely of forty-something pub fiends, were munching chips and downing pints, cheering like drunk dogs for their beloved Irish team. The various roars and yells and bellows melded into an unbearable cacophony, a regular blue-collar symphonie fantastique.
Sidney banged his fist on the bar loudly enough to get most of the patrons’ attention. It was getting bad; he was starting to see purples and golds and aquamarines that just didn’t exist.
“Chrissake, can I not get half of a goddamn pint in this pigsty!”
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 0:48:32 GMT -5
As of late, Maron's 'rebellious' phase had lead to the girl leaving the Canada as soon as she turned 18. Permanently? Probably not, but for now she had no desire to spend another minute with them. And after backpacking through France and England, she'd found her way to Ireland, Dublin to be exact.
Of course, the first thing she'd wanted to do... Is find one of those Irish pubs the country was infamous for. She might not be legally allowed to drink back home, but here? Here the drinking age was 18, and lo and behold, she was 18!
It was just as rowdy as she expected, the blonde running her fingers through her hair with one hand while pushing her slightly tinted glasses higher up the bridge of her nose with the other. None of the patrons paid the young woman any mind as she approached the bar and slid onto a stool. Only then did someone look at her, specifically the bartender. When he finally asked what she wanted, she a small smirk touched her lips as she shrugged. "A pint of whatever is popular."
As she waited, her gaze wandered... Right around the time that the man only a few stools away yelled. Her molten colored gaze stared at him in shock from behind the glasses.
((.... Not my best post, but I wanted to at least get one off >.<))
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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 1:17:56 GMT -5
…and what do you know, right as Sidney let out his anguished plea, the 38-year old journeyman on the Irish team scored on a corner kick to go up one-nil on the heavily favored Premier team. The whole crowd erupted in drunken, off-key song regaling the efforts of this apparent national hero. This dissonance effectively drowned out the American’s shout, and he was left simply seething in hatred and disdain for these simpletons.
Wanting badly to clamp his teeth down on and smoke something, he pulled a pack of Kents from his other jacket pocket and started huffing. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his hand was still shaking, but he was slightly calmer. He breathed in a lungful of smoke and exhaled smoothly downwards, accidentally in the direction of a young ten-year-old lad who had come to watch the game with his father. Said father was toppling backwards off his stool with beer soaking his shirt. The lad was looking at the brimming pack of filtered cigarettes, wide-eyed.
“Go for it, champ,” Sidney offered, tossing the lad a cigarette. Gateway drug be damned. What’s a little nicotine when nowadays you have kids around sniffing glue and slurping cough medicine? A cigarette here and there won’t hurt anyone.
Working out a plan in his head to poach a bottle of Stella from the cooler when the bartender wasn’t looking, he craned his neck to the right to avoid a bothersome fly. Doing so, he locked eyes with a pretty girl, looked to be college-age. She was a few feet away, in the middle of ordering a beer, and she had the most interesting eyes and they were so piercing and it looked like and felt she was seeing into his-
[shadow=white,left,200]What…? Sidney’s head and neck were frozen. His teeth separated slightly and his jaw slackened, allowing room for the burning cigarette to fall from his teeth and hit the ground, still smoking. Cigarette smoke drifted slowly from his mouth in a wide, wispy cloud, as his pupils darted side to side but his eyeballs remained still. He literally could not move! [/shadow]
-and then, just like that, it was over. He had feeling in his neck again. He threw it left-wards so quickly he almost misplaced a few cricks here and there, and coughed as the last of the stale smoke exiting his throat and lungs floated away.
"Meth is a hell of a drug…" muttered Sidney, knuckles still white from the surprising incident. |
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 1:40:27 GMT -5
Maron wasn't used to the rowdiness of these Irish people. Every out burst from them had a wide eyed response from her. Finally, she'd just decided it was best to try and ignore them. She didn't understand half the things they yelled, or sang in this case, in their drunken haze. Instead, she just watched the strange fellow who'd given a child a cigarette.
Her slightly tinted sunglasses were a precaution, to make sure she didn't accidently... hurt someone. Still, that didn't mean people wouldn't feel some affect. Even with the glasses, meeting her gaze could temporarily paralyze someone until she looked away. She was stunned when his gaze met her own, as seemed to freeze herself, as if waiting for something to happen.... Of course it was then she remembered that she was wearing the sunglasses, and quickly looked away, breaking contact.
Dammit.... That was close. To close. He'd frozen, obviously. It was an... almost sixth sense. She knew when her eyes were affecting someone, whether it be just freezing them, or turning them to stone. Perhaps.... He'd just blame it on the alcohol he'd already consumed? Yes, she'd bet on that. And if not.... She'd get the hell out of there, as fast as possible.
The Bar tender had brought her her mug, the girl paying for the alcohol in complete silence. This time she was careful, keeping her gaze downward until he left to attend to other customers. Finally she looked up, but still kept her gaze low enough that she wouldn't meet anyone's gaze.
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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 1:57:01 GMT -5
“Put that shit out!” roared Ol’ Barkeep’ from the sink, gesticulating towards the still-burning cigarette smoldering on the hardwood floor with his thick, flabby neck. All while cleaning two pint glasses simultaneously and kicking open the trash can to accommodate the offending cancer-stick. Impressive multitasking.
Normally, Sidney would have shot back with a surely witty barb, likely about the bartender’s grandmother, but surprisingly, that common little sequence of events didn't unfold. Sidney acquiesced to the bartender’s demands, head spinning from the shakes, from the lack of the half-pint, from the uproar in the background by those inebriated buffoons…
…and from that brief, literally paralyzing moment where he stared into the eyes of that odd, clearly North American blonde sitting near him wearing the most peculiar glasses.
Or he could just really need some more devil dust.
Either way, there was something off about this girl. Something definitely off. Sidney slid over a few stools until he was next to her. He adjusted his posture and hunched over every so slightly to try to meet her eyes, but she was looking down determinedly into the bubbles of her warm beer. Was she embarrassed? Shy? Or…was there more? Only one way to find out. He flipped out a cigarette as she began to look up.
“Care for a smoke?”
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 11:36:41 GMT -5
Maron was doing her utmost best to avoid contact with anyone else, after all, one drunken human being affected by her power would blame it on his intoxication. Multiple humans though? They'd start to put things together, and even if Europe was a little more.... Tolerant towards mutants it didn't mean she'd be welcome there. Who knows, maybe someone would accuse her of intentionally using her power on them and call the police.
She was so set on ignoring everyone that she managed to keep herself from jumping when the Barkeeper roared at the fellow she'd momentarily paralyzed, and when said man snuck across the stools until he reached the one next to her. To distract herself from worrying about her new company, she grabbed the mug in front of her and downed a large gulp.
Perhaps that wasn't the smartest idea.
The hot liquid scorched her throat as she swallowed, instantly putting a sour look on her face. Anyone watching wouldn't have that hard of a time to figure out that this was probably the first time the girl had ever had alcohol. Setting the mug down, she waited for the burning in her throat to go down before even considering taking another drink. And in those moments of waiting, the sneaky man tried to make conversation.
She glanced up at him, or, his lips to be exact. She wouldn't look up any higher then that. "Offering them to everyone?" She smirked a little, raising both her eyes as she waited for some response.
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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 14:55:01 GMT -5
Watching the blonde suffer through that gulp of beer was the funniest thing Sidney had seen all day, and he couldn’t help (he could) letting out a small chuckle at this girl’s inability to hold her alcohol. Maybe he had misgauged her age. 17? 18? He couldn’t really tell with those strange glasses covering her eyes. This girl stuck out like a sore thumb from the rest of the patrons. Young, blonde and clearly a product of America. Or Canada, perhaps. He missed being around those of his continent – he sometimes felt suffocated by the fluff and pompousness of the Europeans he was surrounded by every day. Certainly not here in Dublin, though. These people needed to care a little more about their appearance.He chuckled again at her comment.
”Only first-timers,” he smiled knowingly, offering up the cigarette closer to her head and wagging it in front of her mouth. ”It’s looking like this’ll be a day of firsts for you.”
Noticing her fixated on his lips, he didn’t guess that she was doing so to avoid his eyes. It could be, he reasoned, she was admiring the luscious qualities of his lips. Or, he conceded as more likely, he had something on his mouth. The slightly vain side of him gave in (he was a European now, after all) and he rubbed his lip with a napkin searching for foam.
”Something stuck in my teeth?”
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 15:35:41 GMT -5
Being laughed at didn't help Maron's mood. Sure, she probably would have done the same thing in his shoes, actually she knew she would have, but it didn't mean she liked being laughed at. Even so, the girl was good at hiding weaker emotions such as slight annoyances, her expression void of frustration.
His own comment made her smile a little, before a soft laugh escaped her lips. "So you're trying to corrupt those slightly more innocent then you?" She didn't refuse his offer, reaching out with one hand to snatch the cigarette from his fingers. "Awesome plan." Her last remark didn't even sound sarcastic, which most people would probably expect.
His sudden catching on to where her gaze was almost made her flinch, which anyone might find odd, her eyes quickly dropping back to the mug in front of her. Instantly she tried to play it cool, smirking a little and shrugging. "No, just never liked making eye contact much. But most people think it's rude if I'm not looking at them in some way." Nice recovery... Not. He probably thought she was an idiot. Great move on her part. First day in the country and she's already made a complete fool of herself....
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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 17:47:25 GMT -5
“Slightly?”
Sidney arched an eyebrow, almost playfully. His green eyes sparkled quizzically at this girl’s statement. The edges of his lips rolled upwards into a half-smile, a smile that was tinged with an ever-so-slight dollop of sadness. Someone as innocent as her would never understand the tolls of addiction.
“We might not be that apart in age, but trust me, we are worlds apart.” In more ways than one, really.
His other eyebrow curved upwards to match his other in surprise as the blonde snatched the cigarette from him like an expectant child. He looked at her for a short while as she grasped the cigarette in her feminine hands loosely and almost uncertainly, as if she didn’t know what comes next. Sidney took out a lighter.
“You put it in your lips first,” instructed the young adult gently, guiding her cigarette-hand by the wrist softly to her mouth. He was fascinated by this girl, and in part because of her refusal to look him in the eyes after that first, fleeting glance.
“If you so please, you could stare at my lips instead of my eyes ,” teased Sidney, flicking the wheel on the lighter and igniting the flame in front of the cigarette.
“I wouldn’t want you to be rude, now.”
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 19:15:52 GMT -5
Maron felt like laughing and shaking her head. She wasn't innocent. Perhaps in his eyes she was, because she'd never smoked or drank before. But... In her eyes? She was tainted, her hands covered in blood. "You're probably right. I might be a little to corrupt for you." The smile on her lips only backed up what she said.
It was odd, how... helpful this man was being.... Or.... Not so helpful? After all, he was basically promoting her use of nicotine. Huh, helpful and not helpful at the exact same time. That was a first. She looked up just enough to watch his hand guide her own for a moment, before glancing to him, but was careful to avoid actual eye contact, then back at his own hand as he lit the cigarette in her mouth.
Strange. Truly, he was strange.
She'd seen people smoke before, so it wasn't that hard to figure out that she was suppose to take a breath through the thing, and then exhale. But seeing as this was her first time smoking... She ended up coughing.... And then laughing as she held the cigarette in one hand. "I don't think I did it right."
After a few moments, she smiled, glancing back at him, or his lips again to be exact. He had given permission after all. "You know, it's also rude not to introduce yourself when making small talk." She held out her other hand, to shake his own if he was willing. "I'm Maron."
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Post by shanecross on Jun 15, 2011 19:44:27 GMT -5
Her comment about corruption made Sidney chuckle again, looking downward. It was funny because she was inexperienced in the basic ways of an adult. Yet…her voice when she said it. It wasn’t just childish throwaway banter. There was an underlying tone of resoluteness in what she said, he sensed it. Her smile was playful, yes…but was it just him, or was it also a knowing smirk?
He suddenly imagined her as a full-fledged mutant, with wings and claws and lasers for eyes, tearing apart entire villages and killing all that she saw. ‘Twas possible, to be sure…one could never tell one mutant from a crowd unless he or she had psychic powers. It was very possible. But not likely.
Her hacking coughs broke his train of thought. He smiled as he leaned forward to the enigmatic girl.
“Just breathe like you’re gasping for air. Suck it in like you ran a marathon, then breathe it out like air. Watch.”
He slid the cigarette out of her fingers with his own and took a mighty drag. He sat still for a moment, as if contemplating its taste, then let the exhaled the flume of smoke in the other direction. He handed her the cigarette again, and gestured for her to try it by herself this time.
At her introduction, Sidney was struck by his own rudeness. Had he really not introduced himself? Quite unlike him. He brushed some strands of his tousled, curly jet black hair out of his eyes and tried to meet her gaze, though she was still staring at his kisser. He took her hand and shook it firmly.
“My apologies, Maron. I’m Sidney. I’m not from around here, as you may or may not be able to tell. And I can tell that you aren’t either.” |
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Post by maron on Jun 15, 2011 21:30:20 GMT -5
Killing all that she saw... Quite literally.
Had she given away that she wasn't exactly normal by her comment? Probably not... He probably thought she was flirting. Let him. She'd rather be accused of flirting then be accused of being a mutant. At least flirting wouldn't get her kicked out of the pub.
Oh, most definitely helpful. Telling and showing her exactly how to use the cancerous thing. It seemed her slightly lowered gaze was good for something, as she could see exactly what he was doing to avoid a coughing fit. Hm... Did smoking make him look cooler? A little. It was odd, why did a simple cigarette in someone's hand make them look 'cooler'? She didn't have time to ponder on the question, as he'd already handed the cigarette back, waiting for her to try once again. Taking his advice, she brought the thing to her mouth and slowly breathed in. Like him, she'd glanced away before exhaling. Still, she coughed a little, her body protesting this strange smoke she'd inhaled. "Just need some practice I think." She smiled a little, looking back once more.
Oh, she knew he was trying to meet her gaze. Nearly everyone tried until they found out why she wouldn't look them in the eyes. Something as little as refusing eye contact was 'mysterious' to people, it made them curious. Far to Curious. His firm handshake was met with her own, before she released his, bringing her own back to her side of the counter.
"Nice to meet you." She paused for a moments, a sheepish smile on her lips as she looked away, letting her molten gaze wander the pub instead of focus on him. "Pretty obvious, huh? Guess I haven't mastered the Irish accent yet. I'll have to work on that."
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Post by shanecross on Jun 16, 2011 0:15:17 GMT -5
Seeing her mimic his motions, down straight to the casual yet contemplative exhales, was a riot for Sidney. This girl was making a concerted effort to be an adult. How…admirable. The young mutant wouldn’t call his own behavior ‘model’ by any stretch of the imagination.
The sudden roar of the crowd enveloped whatever words were about to come out of Sidney’s lips next. The same 38-year old Irish footballer, who was retiring later that season, had made a miraculous free kick off the left post into the net, rolling tantalizingly past the opposing keeper’s outstretched arms. The Irish team had stretched its one-nil lead against the heavily favored Premier League team to two-nil with one minute to go, effectively ending the game. The pub suddenly became a madhouse, with hats, chicken bones and beer flying everywhere as hairy, heavyset men hugged other hairy, heavyset men in a sea of dank sweat and unbridled joy. A chorus of ear-splitting cheers struck the two young adults like water from a broken dam.
“Pints for everyone, on the house!” roared the Bartender, moving his beefy arms at impressive speeds with the tap, sliding perilously full glasses down the bar. Sidney grabbed two as they slid over and put one next to Maron’s barely touched beer as he downed his own. Then he downed another one. Sidney’s mood lightened considerably.
“Forget the accent. I want to ask you a question, Maron. This is going to be a very important question, so I want you to answer me truthfully, alright?”
Sidney lifted her chin slightly with his fingers, trying to draw her eyes up to meet his, but they kept darting around furiously, intently trying to avoid his gaze. She was definitely extremely uncomfortable with the whole concept of “meeting eyes.” He was smiling, not a drug addict's smile or a suspicious stranger's smile, but a very boyish, charming smile. He drew a considerable breath, building up the suspense for a question clearly holding great magnitude.
“Are you not looking me in the eyes because I’m ugly, or because you like my lips? It’s definitely one or the other.”
Sidney was smiling, showing that though there might be some casual flirtiness injected into that question, it was all still fun and games.
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Post by maron on Jun 16, 2011 1:41:54 GMT -5
The outburst from the other patrons made Maron jump, catching her so off guard that she just about lost her balance on the bar stool. It was ridiculous how loud people could get sometimes. Even more so, how crazy they could become about a silly sport...
Seeing as a round of pints were being passed around, the young woman decided it was probably about time she tried to finish the one she already had. Setting the cigarette down on a nearby ashtray, she picked up the mug, taking a preparatory sigh before downing a large gulp. Her throat burned as she swallowed the liquid, setting the mug down for a few more minutes before trying to tackle the pint once again. She glanced towards him as he spoke, an eyebrow raised. "A question?" And... It was right around that moment she felt fingers on her chin.
Holding back a flinch, she didn't fight as he forced her to 'look' at him, her eyes focused on the floor to the left. His question made her feel horrible, even if he was asking in a playful way. She hated being the weirdo that wouldn't even look at a person... "It's nothing personal..." What was she supposed to say, bad things happen when she looks at someone? Yeah, that would definitely get her kicked out. Possibly shot by that shotgun everyone says barkeepers have hidden behind the bar...
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Post by shanecross on Jun 16, 2011 22:29:25 GMT -5
Upon hearing her answer, Sidney’s smile faded. She was being totally and completely serious, she was stone faced. Now, that was a definitely a blow to a guy’s ego, having someone tell you that they just didn’t want to look at you. She looked down as if she didn't want to offend him, but the damage had been done.
An uncomfortable silence set in. Sidney took the opportunity to start on his third beer, his chipper mood evaporated. Just who was this girl? If this was some sort of sarcasm or hard-to-get banter, what kind of warped, dark humor did she have? And if she was being serious, what exactly was she even talking to him if she had no interest in conversing with him? He took another drink.
Nothing but foam left. He put down the empty glass and reached for another one. The crowd was still rowdy and loud as ever, and juxtaposed starkly against that were two silent people sitting together at a bar, one looking down while the other looked away. What a truly odd sight.
“Honestly, I’m not sure what to say to that. I've never had anyone tell me before that they just couldn't stand the sight of me.” |
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