Post by lizity on Jun 6, 2012 13:43:44 GMT -5
She’d moved from the heartland middle America to Star City a few years back. She’d wanted to be a dancer, like so many other young girls, and followed her dreams to the big city. But dreams were one thing, paying the bills and getting a break, well that was something else altogether. She’d wanted to dance ballet and she was damn good at it too, or she had been back home. Here in the city her hips, ass and breasts were too large for the perfect ballerina figure. Being turned down time after time by the companies had left her with little money left to live on and she’d gotten a job, bartending. And then things changed.
Love at first sight was pretty corny, even she had to admit but there it was, right in front of her, or rather, he was. She and Clint had been instantly drawn together, though it had taken him a few weeks to make his move on the chick that he’d just hired. Now here they were, three years later in a different city and whole new people in a way.
After they’d met they’d noticed themselves changing. He’d always had a temper but it started to flare more and he was getting stronger. Her generally sweet demeanor started affecting people around her, including him. And then the gods came to visit. Needless to say being avatars of peace and chaos hadn’t exactly been in their five year plan but they were adapting and learning. It was part of the reason they were now in Gotham, setting up to open a new pub. The gods and told them they’d be needed here so they went where they were told.
She pushed a cart stacked with boxes in front the back room behind the bar. “More glasses and the beer guy just left. Cooler is full and ready to go.” She said in her soft little twang that had never managed to get smoothed out by city life. “The hard liquor distributers should be here soon to get the last of the stock in. Have you gotten the ice maker working yet?”
She peered over the stack of boxes to look up at him with her big blue eyes as he stood on a latter peering into the top of the massive ice maker.
~~
"Not yet" he said standing up from behind the bar, stretching his back until it popped. "piece o' shite that it be" Clint added an exasperated sigh. he'd never been one to call in an expert for something he believed he could fix himself, which was most everything, that is to say, hebelieved he could fix most anything. Occasionally, reality clashed with this self assurance and, once or twice, literally blown up in his face. His eyebrows would never be the same, but at least he didn't look like Mr. Spock perpetually raising a quizzical arched brow anymore.
Luckily, his steadfast partner in this endeavor, and others, of which he wasn't entirely sure he approved of. The idea of gods appropriating your life for their own need was somewhat nettlesome to the Irish born immigrant whom had a serious problem with authority - Which was probably why he had chosen to run his own business - but he had reluctantly agreed that having superpowers was somewhat useful and there was nothing quite so liberating as feeling perfectly justified and beating the tar out of a serious arsehole.
"Still a leak somewhair, if we tarn tae damn ting on it'll leak puddles everywhere"
He put the wrench he'd been holding down on the bar, his hands resting on the edges, leaning his weight on them
"I sa'ppose tey'll be wantin' tae be paid soon" he muttered as he bent down once more to retrieve one of aforementioned beers from the cooler below. he came up with two clinking bottles - though Clint usually never drank beer from a bottle, saying it was blasphemy to drink'anyting otter dan strayght from tae tap points o' draft' - He spoke with a an obvious and thick Irish accent, and sadly, it was now far more 'american' now than it had been previously and yet annoyingly difficult to understand for people unaccustomed to the dialect. Another source of irritation for the Irishman, but in recent times, Eva's powers typically kept such irritants at more tolerable levels. A marked decline in broken faces became noticeable in the first few months of its influence over him. He looked over at the blond woman he shared most things in his life with and offered a somewhat crooked, infectious smile, realizing he'd been muttering to himself. A habit formed out of stress that she would know all too well.
"Sorry" Clitn said, even though he didn't have to. "openin' day is comin' fair faster den I tought it would" he shrugged, knowing that once the doors opened and people flooded in, his misgivings would disappear and he would fall back into a familiar routine.
~~
“Have you given in enough yet for me to call someone to fix it?” She asked, giving him puppy dog eyes before ducking behind the stack of boxes in case the towel he’d been using came flying for her head which she had no doubt that it would.
When the coast was clear she came out from the cart and walked over to him, taking the cold bottle he offered out of his hand and stepped into his body. Looping one arm around his neck she kissed the tip of his nose. “Yes they’ll be wanting to be paid just like everyone else. We still have the business credit card and there’s still the money left over in the bank from selling the pub back in Star City. We’re fine.”
Letting go of him after a peck on the lips she opened up the top box and pulled out a pair of mugs, setting them down on the bar for him to fill up. It wasn’t out of the tap but she knew he hated drinking out of bottles. She also knew he hated anything with the scent ‘irish spring’ in it, that he loved the smell of fried chicken, peanut butter cookies and eating whipped cream straight out of a can.
She couldn’t help but smile up at him, leaning back against his side. “Don’t apologize. I love it when you talk to yourself. And even when you sing very badly and very off key in the shower.” She clinked her glass against his before taking a long drink. She drank like a fish when she wanted which surprised most people and she’d won more than a few bets at the old pub too.
“Gotham’s a little rougher than I expected.” She admitted as she looked down at the mug in front of her, spinning it around in slow circles with a finger.
~~
"It's where they told us we should be" Clint said as Eva slid back, eyes falling to the amber drink infront of her watch it was she pushed it in slow circles. She didn't need to be told who he meant when he said they. "I see what you mean, you hear stories but you don't expect it tae be this bad. I'm not sure we can make a huge difference with crime as rampant as it is, but I guess that's what we'll be findin' out soon enough."
He hadn't answered her previous question, about needing her to call someone in to repair it which usually meant he was close to giving in.
"But if their is a silver lining here, it's that Gotham's population is a thirsty one so at the very least we don't be dyin' poor" Clint added with crooked grin. He picked up his glass and drained most of it. True to form and stereotype, Clint could drink like a fish and barely be affected by the alcohol. This ability seemed to have increased ten fold since Peace and Chaos had found them.
"We can start patrollin' tomorrow night get a feel for the city. There've been reports of crime fighters, vigilantes, we can try and see if can make contact with any of them. If only to let them know we exist. Metropolis dinnae need our help anyway, not like Gotham."
~~
“I’m still getting used to the whole ‘they’ thing.” It was the first time she’d let slip any kind of insecurities about the whole thing. A new city, a very violent new city had her brain working double time. She’d never been the fighter type, short of knowing how to throw a good punch and smack hands when she’d waited tables. The kind of fighting this was going to require was going to be well over her head. Sure she knew once she let the powers they’d given them flow into her she’d just know but it just wasn’t the same.
“I know I’m the one that said we needed to do this. Just being here and settling in has me all twisted up, ya know? I’m not saying this isn’t where we should be. Just nervous maybe. Talk’n out my ass.”
She snorted at him. “If you don’t drink it all first.” Poking him in the side she finished her beer off in two more drinks before setting the mugs in the sink. They all had to be washed anyway before going into the freezers or stacked for later.
“Think they’ll welcome us or be all ‘get out of my city’?” She pushed at his shoulder till he turned and leaned back against the cooler they’d been standing in front of. Stepping in front of him she leaned her frame against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Though I am looking forward to seeing you all decked out in red again.”
Love at first sight was pretty corny, even she had to admit but there it was, right in front of her, or rather, he was. She and Clint had been instantly drawn together, though it had taken him a few weeks to make his move on the chick that he’d just hired. Now here they were, three years later in a different city and whole new people in a way.
After they’d met they’d noticed themselves changing. He’d always had a temper but it started to flare more and he was getting stronger. Her generally sweet demeanor started affecting people around her, including him. And then the gods came to visit. Needless to say being avatars of peace and chaos hadn’t exactly been in their five year plan but they were adapting and learning. It was part of the reason they were now in Gotham, setting up to open a new pub. The gods and told them they’d be needed here so they went where they were told.
She pushed a cart stacked with boxes in front the back room behind the bar. “More glasses and the beer guy just left. Cooler is full and ready to go.” She said in her soft little twang that had never managed to get smoothed out by city life. “The hard liquor distributers should be here soon to get the last of the stock in. Have you gotten the ice maker working yet?”
She peered over the stack of boxes to look up at him with her big blue eyes as he stood on a latter peering into the top of the massive ice maker.
~~
"Not yet" he said standing up from behind the bar, stretching his back until it popped. "piece o' shite that it be" Clint added an exasperated sigh. he'd never been one to call in an expert for something he believed he could fix himself, which was most everything, that is to say, hebelieved he could fix most anything. Occasionally, reality clashed with this self assurance and, once or twice, literally blown up in his face. His eyebrows would never be the same, but at least he didn't look like Mr. Spock perpetually raising a quizzical arched brow anymore.
Luckily, his steadfast partner in this endeavor, and others, of which he wasn't entirely sure he approved of. The idea of gods appropriating your life for their own need was somewhat nettlesome to the Irish born immigrant whom had a serious problem with authority - Which was probably why he had chosen to run his own business - but he had reluctantly agreed that having superpowers was somewhat useful and there was nothing quite so liberating as feeling perfectly justified and beating the tar out of a serious arsehole.
"Still a leak somewhair, if we tarn tae damn ting on it'll leak puddles everywhere"
He put the wrench he'd been holding down on the bar, his hands resting on the edges, leaning his weight on them
"I sa'ppose tey'll be wantin' tae be paid soon" he muttered as he bent down once more to retrieve one of aforementioned beers from the cooler below. he came up with two clinking bottles - though Clint usually never drank beer from a bottle, saying it was blasphemy to drink'anyting otter dan strayght from tae tap points o' draft' - He spoke with a an obvious and thick Irish accent, and sadly, it was now far more 'american' now than it had been previously and yet annoyingly difficult to understand for people unaccustomed to the dialect. Another source of irritation for the Irishman, but in recent times, Eva's powers typically kept such irritants at more tolerable levels. A marked decline in broken faces became noticeable in the first few months of its influence over him. He looked over at the blond woman he shared most things in his life with and offered a somewhat crooked, infectious smile, realizing he'd been muttering to himself. A habit formed out of stress that she would know all too well.
"Sorry" Clitn said, even though he didn't have to. "openin' day is comin' fair faster den I tought it would" he shrugged, knowing that once the doors opened and people flooded in, his misgivings would disappear and he would fall back into a familiar routine.
~~
“Have you given in enough yet for me to call someone to fix it?” She asked, giving him puppy dog eyes before ducking behind the stack of boxes in case the towel he’d been using came flying for her head which she had no doubt that it would.
When the coast was clear she came out from the cart and walked over to him, taking the cold bottle he offered out of his hand and stepped into his body. Looping one arm around his neck she kissed the tip of his nose. “Yes they’ll be wanting to be paid just like everyone else. We still have the business credit card and there’s still the money left over in the bank from selling the pub back in Star City. We’re fine.”
Letting go of him after a peck on the lips she opened up the top box and pulled out a pair of mugs, setting them down on the bar for him to fill up. It wasn’t out of the tap but she knew he hated drinking out of bottles. She also knew he hated anything with the scent ‘irish spring’ in it, that he loved the smell of fried chicken, peanut butter cookies and eating whipped cream straight out of a can.
She couldn’t help but smile up at him, leaning back against his side. “Don’t apologize. I love it when you talk to yourself. And even when you sing very badly and very off key in the shower.” She clinked her glass against his before taking a long drink. She drank like a fish when she wanted which surprised most people and she’d won more than a few bets at the old pub too.
“Gotham’s a little rougher than I expected.” She admitted as she looked down at the mug in front of her, spinning it around in slow circles with a finger.
~~
"It's where they told us we should be" Clint said as Eva slid back, eyes falling to the amber drink infront of her watch it was she pushed it in slow circles. She didn't need to be told who he meant when he said they. "I see what you mean, you hear stories but you don't expect it tae be this bad. I'm not sure we can make a huge difference with crime as rampant as it is, but I guess that's what we'll be findin' out soon enough."
He hadn't answered her previous question, about needing her to call someone in to repair it which usually meant he was close to giving in.
"But if their is a silver lining here, it's that Gotham's population is a thirsty one so at the very least we don't be dyin' poor" Clint added with crooked grin. He picked up his glass and drained most of it. True to form and stereotype, Clint could drink like a fish and barely be affected by the alcohol. This ability seemed to have increased ten fold since Peace and Chaos had found them.
"We can start patrollin' tomorrow night get a feel for the city. There've been reports of crime fighters, vigilantes, we can try and see if can make contact with any of them. If only to let them know we exist. Metropolis dinnae need our help anyway, not like Gotham."
~~
“I’m still getting used to the whole ‘they’ thing.” It was the first time she’d let slip any kind of insecurities about the whole thing. A new city, a very violent new city had her brain working double time. She’d never been the fighter type, short of knowing how to throw a good punch and smack hands when she’d waited tables. The kind of fighting this was going to require was going to be well over her head. Sure she knew once she let the powers they’d given them flow into her she’d just know but it just wasn’t the same.
“I know I’m the one that said we needed to do this. Just being here and settling in has me all twisted up, ya know? I’m not saying this isn’t where we should be. Just nervous maybe. Talk’n out my ass.”
She snorted at him. “If you don’t drink it all first.” Poking him in the side she finished her beer off in two more drinks before setting the mugs in the sink. They all had to be washed anyway before going into the freezers or stacked for later.
“Think they’ll welcome us or be all ‘get out of my city’?” She pushed at his shoulder till he turned and leaned back against the cooler they’d been standing in front of. Stepping in front of him she leaned her frame against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Though I am looking forward to seeing you all decked out in red again.”