First Entrance... Possibly

[beautiful_bullets]

A beautiful woman in red - long hair like battlefield fires at night; biker leathers the colour of a soldier's sash; lips perfectly lacquered with the deep, dark hue of old blood - lets herself into the bar, her helmet tucked under one arm...

And grins the sort of grin that might otherwise be attributed to an orca let loose on a school of tuna.

"Awwwwwwright!"

She swaggers across the room to order a drink at the bar, her high heels clicking on the wood like a pocketful of bullets.

This is gonna be fun.

[OOC: A wild Back Room post appears! Any questions, please comment over there or catch me on Discord.]

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[ostro_goth]

By the bar, there is a pale man in black, with a battle-axe, drinking tea.

[beautiful_bullets]

She bestows a beautiful, dazzling smile on him, teeth bone-white against blood-red lips.

"Wotcher, darlin'."

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings," the axe-man says. "One would assume you are new to this place?"

[beautiful_bullets]

"Oh, there's nothing new under the sun," she assures him, in the tones of one who personally knows this to be so, and strokes the bartop with beautifully manicured finger-tips.

"There's a good girl," she murmurs, and gets a huge red cocktail - the kind that speaks of at least six different kinds of alcohol, and e-numbers beyond Famine's wildest dreams - without having to ask.

As she raises it to her lips, she cocks an immaculately-shaped brow in Teja's general direction. "Were you intending to show me around?"

[ostro_goth]

"I might, if you ask me to," Teja says. "I think I have seen your face before, here..."

[beautiful_bullets]

"Mmmm."

The nails clasping the stem of the glass are polished like tiny bloodstones; they might even put the fanciful in mind of tiny stone daggers.

"I do have that kind of face," she says, and smiles her slow, amused shark's smile. "But I always find my way around. Sooner or later."

[ostro_goth]

"Still, some explanation might be useful," Teja says.

[buh_bye]

Death is all ready at the bar drinking a beer and eating an Indian Taco. That feeling though when she enters, that was interesting.

She was at least more interesting than her counterpart in his universe.

[beautiful_bullets]

She saunters up to the bar with a spring in her step, perching delicately on a bar stool.

"There's a good girl," she murmurs, stroking the counter with perfectly manicured fingers, and gets a huge red cocktail - the kind that speaks of at least six different kinds of alcohol, and e-numbers beyond Famine's wildest dreams - without having to ask.

As she lifts it to her lips, one eye closes in a slow, amused wink. It might be directed at the bar in general, or it might be directed at her colleague along the bar.

[buh_bye]

He smiles a little, well his human form smiles, his actual form has a grinning skull for a face, go figure.

"And what, pray tell, brings War to this establishment?" he asks quietly.

[beautiful_bullets]

"Oh, you know me." She smiles, slow and deeply amused. "Always looking for new opportunities."

[buh_bye]

"I know your counterpart in my world," he says before sipping his beer, "Hungry?"

[beautiful_bullets]

"Not especially," she says, and sips her drink.

"Although I could be persuaded."

[cutting_edgex23]

A slim girl in black, pretty but not ravishing, looks up as War approaches the Bar.

She has a root beer float in front of her, with a neon purple curly straw.

"Hello."

Beat.

"I do not think you have been here before."

[beautiful_bullets]

She favours the younger woman with a bright, easy smile, charming and darkly mischievous.

"Not this time around," she agrees, perching delicately on a bar stool. "But you know what they say... there's nothing new under the sun."

[cutting_edgex23]

X considers that for a moment, taking a sip of her float.

"I do not think that is true."

Beat.

"Even if they say it."

[beautiful_bullets]

She smiles again, neatly crossing her long legs.

"I don't know. Stick around long enough, it all starts to look like variations on a theme."

As if to demonstrate, she gently strokes the bartop with her fingertips, the perfectly painted nails making the faintest of scree-scree noises against the varnish. "There's a good girl," she murmurs, and gets a huge Mars-red cocktail without having to ask.

It has a tiny paper umbrella in it.

[cutting_edgex23]

X considers this for a moment, the scar on her palm flickering with heat.

"Maybe," she says, eventually.

"For some people. But not everyone."

[beautiful_bullets]

She glances, briefly, at X's palm.

"Personal experience?"

[harryhotspur]

Anyone who has spoken with Harry Percy for any length of time has probably noticed that he doesn't generally have a lot of time or attention to spare for women. Oh, they're alright in the right time and place, but he usually has other things on his mind. Like, say, war.

But that woman. That woman.

He'd be ashamed if he realized how openly he's staring, but-- he doesn't.

[beautiful_bullets]

She perches elegantly on a bar stool, slowly stroking the counter with her finger tips; the perfectly-painted nails make the faintest of scree-scree noises against the varnish, like shrapnel very, very far away.

Provided with a drink, she sets her helmet down on the bar to turn and look out over the room...


...Well, hello there.

The young man is favoured with the slowest and most dazzling of smiles, teeth bone-white against the gleaming dark lips.

[harryhotspur]

Harry has just enough presence of mind (after staring for a moment or two more at that smile) to duck into an awkward but passably courtly bow.

"Good day, madam."

[beautiful_bullets]

Before she can set it to her lips, she raises her glass to him, eyes not leaving his face: she has little trouble in recognising such a devoted... subject.

"Well met, sir."

She can already feel the lingo coming back to her.

[harryhotspur]

"I think we have not met," he says, though he'd almost swear he recognized her, though she is so plainly not ofnhis time or country.

[beautiful_bullets]

There is the faint, soft sound of leather on leather as she crosses her long, long legs. She leans forwards, eyes still on his face.

"Are you sure about that?"

She takes the smallest sip of her drink, watching him.