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A lone figure stood on the beach, staring out over the vast ocean in front of her. Her hair was the only bright thing in sight amongst the blues and whites of the sand and water, bright red and wildly curly. It spilled around her bare shoulders and trailed down to her hips like a curtain. She was completely relaxed and at ease, standing there, hands resting loosely at her sides while a small smile played on her bow-shaped lips. It had been a rough past couple of months, when she and her twin brother and sister had come across this place and decided to buy and renovate it. The three of them had thrown themselves into it, making it their own project for the next several weeks. It had been shabby and in severe disrepair, but now it was beautiful, the perfect place for someone to spend their evening.

The redheaded fae turned and gazed at the building several yards away, still smiling. The lights shone out on the sands that she stood in, glowing yellow and silver in the rising moonlight. The main door of the tavern was open, though the screen door was shut to keep any unwanted bugs out. Ruairi and Aidan had already gone to sleep for the night, leaving her to tend the bar herself- she always was more of a night person than her older brother and sister. They had no employees at the moment, nor customers, but Saorla flitted back inside anyways, slipping into the high heels she'd left on the wooden deck before she'd stepped into the sand earlier.

The bar- and everything else, for that matter- was immaculate. Her twins always teased her about being such an absolute neat freak, but what was wrong with wanting things to be spotless? She laughed under her breath, moving throughout the kitchen while she prepared herself a mug of raspberry tea- her favorite! The fruity scent filtered throughout the building, mixing with the natural salt and sand smell that permeated this place. Once it was finished, Saorla carried it in both hands on the deck, where she leaned against the railing and sipping from it lightly, staring back out at the ocean.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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So this was it. Out in the middle of ******** no where, he'd found the building. It had only been open for a few weeks. It wasn't underground. It wasn't a hot spot. It was just new, and nice. Peaceful, even. He reached into his pocket, pulling his cellular phone out. He flipped the screen up, glancing over the image. Six text messages and three voice messages. Hah.

Shoving it away, he made a note to check them later. But not right now. Now, he wanted to relax. He'd just left the Don with a big '******** You' and skipped down on a plane. He didn't care. The b*****d could choke on his fat and he wouldn't shed a single tear for him.

With a deep breath, he and his swag (fancy black suit) walked into the surf-shack-tavern. He looked around at the empty atmosphere, smiling. you hear that? Nothing. Just... silence. Sadly, he could already tell the bartender was a female. Nice... not. He took a seat, reaching into his pocket and tugging a pack of cigs out. He placed it between his lips, lighting one of the cigarettes right of the bat. The light scent of raspberries briefly puffed from the short death stick. Hey, if he had to remember the scent of one of these rancid things, it'd better be kind of bearable.
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She went back inside shortly before the man arrived, long since having finished off her raspberry tea. The first thing she did was wash the mug out and place it back in its place in the cabinets- she couldn't leave any dirty dishes laying in the sink! The kettle of water was poured out and set up on the stove for later, should she decide to make more tea before she went to bed whenever she decided to retire and close up. The sound of the screen door opening and shutting pulled her from her absentminded thoughts and Saorla turned to gaze at the blonde, smiling once more. "Hello~" The redhead greeted him, ignoring the fact that he was smoking. Saorla didn't much care for cigarettes- they were disgusting on top of being dangerous and addictive- but this one really didn't smell so bad. "How are you? Can I get you anything?"
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Dante glanced to the woman, then pulled the cig from his lips. "An ashtray, for starters." Unless she wanted to have ash all over the place. "And then... anything, I guess? I've never drank before." He waiting for the tray, then tapped it out, letting it sit on the edge of it. It looked brand new... had he just christened it?
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Saorla knelt down and pulled an ashtray out from under the ar, setting it down on the counter once she'd straightened and pushing it towards him. No, she definitely would not like ash all over the bar counter she kept so clean. "You've never drank before?" She asked, quirking a brow up curiously. He looked of age to be able to drink, by human standards anyways. "It's sort of overrated, really... But wine tastes nice enough." In the experiences she'd had the past couple of weeks she'd been here, the men usually ordered beers. But somehow- maybe it was the sharp way he dressed?- Saorla doubted he would like that. Especially not for a first time. She grabbed a bottle of her favorite red wine from the shelves behind her, pouring it into a glass which she set in front of him. Saorla left the bottle sitting out, should he want more.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Dante licked his lips, watching her a moment, then lancing to the glass. He refused to touch it until she had completely withdrawn her own hand. Picking it up, he brought it to him, smelling it, then gently tipping it back...

Guh!

With an odd look he laid it back down. Scrunching his brow together, he bit his lip. "It's uh.... good."
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Saorla raised an eyebrow at the face he'd made when he took the first sip. It was kind of funny, actually, and she had to bite her bottom lip lightly to keep from laughing, amusement dancing behind her blue eyes. "It's not for everyone, I suppose. Takes some time to get used to." What a waste of good wine, though. Saorla wondered if he planned to finish it off. "Is there anything else you'd like to try, maybe?" She waved a hand to the shelf behind her, watching him curiously.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Dante glanced up, then back down t the glass. "I guess... after this." She murmured, picking it back up. Without warning he took it back; all of it. He drank it down all at once;ignoring the flavor; ignoring the burn; simply so that he could lay the glass back down in front of her.

He found himself coughed, dropping his mouth into his hand as his eyes watered up. s**t! That was terrible! Felt terrible, even! "Guh... s**t..." Blech!
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Well, then. At least the wine hadn't gone to waste...

Saorla's brow shot up again when he tossed it back, and she took the glass from him when he set it down, turning on the faucet and running it under the stream to wash out any remnants of the red wine. The redhead tore off a paper towel and was drying it off while glancing over the bottles of alcohol stashed along the wall. What to get, what to get... Her eyes landed on the bottle of White Zinfandel- perfect! "It's harder to taste the alcohol in this one~" Saorla explained, uncorking it and pouring a little into the glass. Not as much as the first time, in case he somehow decided he didn't like it, either. "It's sweeter and lighter. More fruit-flavored." The glass was set back down in front of him, paper towel tossed into the trash and previous bottle of red wine recorked and replaced back on the shelves.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Dante coughed again, looking back up to her. God that was awful. He really had to wonder if he should trust this woman anymore. That was terrible, this one was probably even worse. He licked the remnants from his lips, reaching out and gripping the stem of the glass. He was already feeling the effects swim over his body. God, this was weird. But... nice.

He brought the glass up, taking a small sip, tasting it. Oh... oh. Well, better. But he could still taste it. God, it was terrible; just not as terrible. He glanced to the red head and her hopeful eyes, then tossed the rest back, laying the glass back down. "It was..." He cleared his throat. "Better."
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It was better... He'd said, and Saorla merely smiled, politely- better didn't necessarily mean good, though she didn't comment on it. "I can get you a glass of water, if you'd like? Or something else non-alcoholic?" She offered, reaching out and plucking up the wine glass. Saorla cleaned it out while she waited for his answer, running it under hot water and soap then setting it on the drying rack beside the sink to dry. "What brings you all the way out here, anyways?" Might as well try to make conversation. It wasn't often that Saorla had seen people come here so well dressed- there were mostly beach bums and the occasional after-work party group. Then again, it had just gotten started, only having been open a few weeks now.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxMafia Bad a** with an Attitude


Dante glanced up to her in mild shock. Well... he... well.. with a deep breath, he shook his head. ******** it, he was determined. Plucking his cigarette up, he took another drag from the little stick. Blow out the smoke, he made his decision. "How about a Mimosa?" Champagne and fruit juice, right? Couldn't go wrong with that, he supposed. "Just... make it harder. I'm trying to get drunk."

Which wasn't taking very much. He could already feel in invading his body, intoxication him, causing his nerves to tingle! They said the first part of your brain to be attacked was the judgement center. Perhaps that was why he demanded drinking?
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A mimosa? That was easy enough. Saorla picked out a flute from the cabinets and set it off to the side for the moment. She flitted over to the fridge then and picked out the orange juice- the most common juice for the drink. It was opened and poured into the glass until it filled the glass nearly halfway, and once she'd closed it up and set it back in the fridge did she pluck the champagne bottle from the shelves. Saorla filled the rest of the glass with it, setting it down in front of the man. Why are you trying to get drunk? Rough day at work?" He hadn't answered her first question, and Saorla wasn't sure he'd answer this one, but it didn't hurt to fill the silence, anyways.
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Dante De Stephanoxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Dante laughed, just tending to his cigarette for now. At east this he was sure he could stand. "It's... always rough." He said softly. "I'm actually not from here. I'm from Italy. I just needed to..." He paused, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Get away..." He blew the smoke out as he finished, finally snuffing the cig out into the ash tray.

So, this mimosa... it was supposed to be good, right? He light it up, giving it a sip before taking it back. Mmmmh... "Best." He grinned a bit, laying it back down and keeping it hostage this time.
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"What exactly do you do?" Saorla asked, studying him curiously after he laughed. She seemed content when he drank from the mimosa and smiled at her, stating that it was the best. "I aim to please." She smiled in return, glad that she'd finally made something he could handle. He seemed like he was a lot more relaxed- maybe from the alcohol he was still very unused to?

"Oh, what's your name?" It had just occured to her to ask, and she laughed a little under her breath. "I'm Saorla." The name rolled off her tongue easily, bringing out the Irish accent she usually kept light, practiced with hiding over the long years.

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