Monday Night Bartending

[behind_me]

Now that Gamora's staying at the bar, she needs to find a way of paying off her tab frequently enough that she can continue to sstay away from her father.

So she's had a conversation with bar, been directed to where the alcohol is, been given a very stern napkin about what humans can't drink, and now:

Specials:

Raspberry Martini
Rakia
Seaweed Gin

She can handle these, at least.

Comments

[oldmancreed]

He settles at the bar and only give Gamora a slight once over. Blue, green. It's all women to him.

"Seaweed gin."

[behind_me]

It's still nice to her, in here, for people to look at her and not instantly see the Daughter of Thanos. There's no pretense that they wouldn't see a killer in her stance and bearing, but there are so many dangerous people here she blends right in. It's also a point in his favour that the opening line isn't 'so you're green, then.

The look in his eye counts a little against him though. But she has a job to do so... she quickly consults the notes bar gave her and pours a measure of the gin into a tumbler with some rocks and a cucumber garnish before handing it over.

"Is this how you like it?"

[oldmancreed]

He's going to raise his eyebrows. This isn't the arena he's used to hearing that in. Regardless,

"Never had it before. Probably fine."

[behind_me]

Gamora either doesn't understand the raised eyebrows or she doesn't care - actually, it's a little of both. She doesn't know exactly why what she said had to be sexual but she understands that look, and meets it with a cool deadpan of her own.

"It's how Bar suggested," she says. "But there are other ways to serve it, I imagine."

Bar also suggested talking to patrons, but gave no hint as to how.

[oldmancreed]

"Don't imagine she puts people in charge who can't do the job." She really should take all this as a compliment to her abilities in pouring alcohol.

He takes a sip and nods. "Fine. You got a name, Frail?"

[behind_me]

"Gamora," says Gamora, pleasantly enough. She can let him take the lead in conversation. She tilts her head anyway, curious at the word, which for some reason her translator chip has chosen to translate literally.

"I'm not that frail."

[oldmancreed]

"Creed." He offers in return. Gamora is green. Maybe that'll help him remember.

"Probably not. Just a habit."

[behind_me]

She nods her acknowledgement, and pauses because she's trying to remember how to greet people around here. "It's good to meet you.

"But, what kind of habit?"

[oldmancreed]

“I’d wait for a bit to decide that.” If it’s good to meet him. Plenty of people disagree.

“Habit? A bad one, apparently.”

[behind_me]

"Oh."

That's fair, she supposes. He might be a terrible person, but she thought that was how one is polite around here.

"Do people not like meeting you?"

[oldmancreed]

“Depends on the circumstances. I ain’t trying to kill you, so I guess that’s good enough.” He doesn’t appear to be joking as he takes another sip of his drink.

[behind_me]

The elicits a smile from Gamora. She lifts her head, her hair tumbling back from her face as she does so.

"That is one of the selling points of this place. So few people trying to kill each other."

[oldmancreed]

He looks around the room thoughtfully.

"Is it? I think it makes it kind of boring."

[behind_me]

"You enjoy it?" she asks. "Fighting for your life?"

[oldmancreed]

"Never feel more alive when I'm in someone's sights." It gives him hope he might actually die one day.

"Fighting's a good time to me."

[behind_me]

"Oh."

She doesn't agree or understand but:

"I guess you're not the only person I've met with that attitude."

Go on, ask her what happened to them.

[oldmancreed]

"They all dead?" He leans in a little closer to her. "You kill them?"

[behind_me]

She neither moves away nor forward, letting him come as close as he feels safe doing so.

Simply, without emotion: "Yes."

[oldmancreed]

He laughs, soft and low. "I like that in a woman."

[behind_me]

"Trying to kill you?"

[oldmancreed]

"Sure, why not. Just a killer would do, too. Women who have that in their blood are a hard find."

Okay, he'll say it to himself. She reminds him of Mystique.

[behind_me]

"Really?"

She tilts her head again, thinking of herself, and Nebula, and Proxima Midnight.

"What makes you think it's in my blood? Maybe it's something I learned."

[oldmancreed]

"You can learn it but that don't mean it comes natural." He looks her over, her stance, her expression, the fluid way she moves.

"Comes natural for you, don't it?"

[behind_me]

Gamora breathes in very slowly through her nose, her eyes cast down for the first time this conversation, before lifting them up to meet his.

A natural. He sounds like her father. And she hates that she feels the compliment.

"It's so easy to tell?"

[oldmancreed]

He shrugs. "If you know what to look for."