milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Well. That was smart.

Fait accomplis are a good idea when you're dealing with men, right?

Liz Imbrie sits at the bar, without a drink, looking at two steamer tickets in front of her. Occasionally she touches them. Yes, they would be why she has not bought a drink.

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A man sits nearby writing on a pad of paper.

She doesn't notice him, absorbed as she is.

The man stops writing.

He looks at Liz. Stares at, rather.

She looks up abruptly, and when she sees Rod, she tries to smile politely.

“Hello,” he says cheerfully. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

"Quite clement," Liz agrees.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he says admiringly. “My name is Rod. Rod Serling.”

She's in love with a writer. You pick things up.

"Elizabeth Imbrie. How do you do."

“Very well. I haven’t been here in quite some time. I’ve come to miss it.”

"I tend to come every day for a week, and then not at all for months. It's nice to know it's here to come back to."

“Yes, the bar is rather spontaneous like that.” He grins. “And what is it that you do, Miss Imbrie, outside the bar?”

"Photog--" She bites her lip.

"Currently, unemployed."

“My condolences. You know, it’s very hard out here for an artist, don’t you think?”

"Yes."

She looks back down at the steamer tickets, and drums her fingers. Mostly to keep them from shaking.

"It is."

He tilts his head. “I wish I could help, but I’m afraid all I have to offer is dinner, if you’re hungry.”

[ ooc: er, and I'm going to be slow for the next couple of hours. Slowtime ok? ]

"And conversation? If you're willing to distract me, I'd be delighted."

She's only kind of flirting.

[ooc: totally fine!]

“I can provide both,” he says with a smile, and moves a stool closer. “What can I get you?”

"An amuse-bouche," Liz says, slipping the tickets into her purse, although not before looking at them again.

She deliberately smoothes her brow as she smiles at Rod.

“How about a brie and crab soup?”

"At your mercy, sir."

He orders two, one for him, one for her. They both materialize on the bar.

"Your mercy is quite generous," Liz says, as she tries it. "Where did you acquire this kind of taste?"

“From traveling to various places,” he says vaguely.

"I envy you," she says lightly. "When was this?"

[ooc: I'm going to go to sleep soonish; fade or slowtime's good with me]

“When?” He chuckles. “Whenever, really. I still travel.”

[ ooc: fade is fine by me. ]

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