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                          xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxSangria ; bar
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                              Saturday evening, and not a soul in sight. Lear sat alone at his bar and stared blankly across the room with half-lidded eyes, wondering where the usual hustle and bustle of the weekend went. His fingers drummed along the hard counter, and the steady beat was all his ears could pick up as he waited. While he didn't mind the silence--in fact, he found immense joy in it--Saturday evenings usually made up the peak of his earnings. Not only that, he'd blocked off this entire evening in order to devote himself to a busy night, just like every other Saturday. So now what? He didn't want to just lock up and leave. After all, what if the usual patrons were just running a little late? That was always possible.

                              Tap, tap, tap... His fingers continued to drum a steady beat, too agitated to rest in his lap.

                              "I'll give it fifteen more minutes," he muttered to himself, glancing up at the clock. "Just fifteen more minutes..."

                              As the minutes rolled on, Lear decided to pour himself a drink. It was unprofessional, to say the least, to drink on the job. But he was a damn bartender. He owned the damn place. And it was about time he enjoyed his own goods. Hopping over the counter, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a small shot glass. He tipped the bottle and watched as a small trickle dropped into the glass, careful not to pour too much. Someone could walk in at any moment, after all.

                              With a swift movement, he downed the shot and squeezed his eyes shut as the burning liquid traveled down his throat. He never did like whiskey--Never understood why anyone else did either. Even so, as he took another glance at the clock, he poured some more of the liquid into his glass, this time giving himself a more generous amount.

                              Just fifteen more minutes, he thought.
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♫ ♪
т є я я α и н ι є в
But baby, you can call me "Krik"
± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ±


Sangria was a bar that stood not two blocks away from the music shop where Krik worked. He had always seen people go in and out after his work shifts and it was especially busy, he found, on weekends. Well, of course it would be. That was when the night life thrived. It had been a tempting place to stop for weeks, but every little pang of temptation had quickly been tempered by his need to return home. He had other things to spend his money on and he was certain -- by his experience -- he would end up a great deal poorer and in some stranger's bed if he were to feed that temptation. So every night, after work, he passed the interesting sight by, wishing he could, hoping he one day would and knowing that he never should. There was a grand party going in there on Saturday nights and it hurt him to know that he couldn't indulge himself and be a part of it.

The weeks came and past, leaving Krik in the usual work week daze. He had earned quite a bit that month, having worked extra shifts and with his constant saving, he had managed to make quite a bit of leftover money. It had been a long time since he had spent any of it on himself. The bar was the last thing on his mind. His first inclination was to spend it on a trip. Give himself a little trip and vacation away from Section Three and his demanding family. He wasn't even married for Christ's sake and he still had as many demands as if he had already popped out kids of his own.

When he saw the sign, thoughts of a vacation dropped from his mind. He had enough to play around at that very moment. Surely it would not be a big deal. It was empty for the moment, anyway. There would be no splurging. Just a quick drink, maybe someone to have a conversation with that was of legal age. Diverting his course, he approached Sangria only to find it totally empty.. not even the one or two patrons he would have expected. Only one man, the bartender, he presumed by his attire, stood behind the counter.

"Weekend and you're not flooded with drunk people," he greeted, weaving himself around the tables in the room to come sit at the bar itself. He clicked his tongue and flopped down on the stool, automatically spinning himself around full circle. Both hands held out, he stopped himself once he was facing the bartender. "Did you all do something to scare them off?"
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                                              xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxI'm at Sangria with a patron feeling curious
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                                                  xxxxxFifteen minutes had long since passed, and Lear continued to sit at the counter, scowling at the half-empty bottle in his hand. It wasn't often that he drank, but whenever he did, he always had trouble actually getting drunk. Somehow, even without drinking a lot, he had a high tolerance against alcohol. Whether or not that was a good thing, he couldn't tell. But given that no one seemed to be coming in tonight, he was all for losing himself to the intoxicating drink in in his grasp, and his difficulty was beginning to get really irritating.

                                                  xxxxx"Give it up, Walker," he grunted with a cough after downing another shot. "No one's coming in tonight."

                                                  It wasn't that he missed talking to people--dealing with drunks left and right definitely didn't make it to his top ten list of things he enjoyed. It wasn't even about the money either, as he had nothing to spend it on anyway. It was more that lately he'd been feeling, for lack of a better word, unproductive. He couldn't remember the last time he thoroughly inspected a patron for his underground cause. All the people who came and went, the forgettable faces that passed through, none of them struck him the right way. He couldn't see a single hint of a passion for something more than their dreary, ignorant lives. Not a single person in the last few months showed any potential for his righteous cause.

                                                  xxxxxBefore he could pour another bitter shot of whiskey for himself, his first customer of the night entered the bar. At the sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut, Lear leapt to his feet and shoved the glass and bottle under the counter, putting on his best I-wasn't-drinking-on-the-job smile. To his dismay, the still half-empty bottle did not land correctly, and as he greeted his patron the bottle's contents trickled in a small stream onto his pantleg.

                                                  xxxxxWelcome, stranger! Haven't seen you around here before.” His new guest situated himself at the counter and eventually faced Lear, asking about the rare emptiness of the bar. “You know, that's exactly what I've been wondering for the past hour,” he replied, tapping his chin with thoughtful disappointment, trying to ignore the uncomfortable damp feeling spreading across the leg of his pants. “Maybe they just don't like my new cologne.” He grinned at the corny joke and shrugged.

                                                  Now here was someone different. Talk about speaking of the devil, just moments ago Lear thought that things were growing too quiet. And though the bar was hardly lively, here was someone who brought something different from the usual drunk looking for a way to off himself. Still, it was too soon to tell, he had to play it smart and really figure this guy out. But when Lear had a feeling about someone, he was usually right. Years of being a high-ranked soldier didn't amount to nothing, after all. He'd easily developed the scrutinizing eyes of a hawk.

                                                  xxxxxSo what can I get for you tonight?

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♫ ♪
т є я я α и н ι є в
But baby, you can call me "Krik"
± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ±


"Your cologne? Really?" Krik mocked a shocked expression, placing his hand over his chest as if it were some scandalous answer to his question. He dropped it quickly, his grin returned to his face. "Well, I could test it by smelling you, but that might just make me seem like a creeper. I would get kicked out! It would be horrible! And your bar truly would be empty!" He spun around in his chair one last time before he was done acting like a dumbass. He could joke around all he wanted, but after a point, if he got too dramatic, people would start getting tired of him. He didn't want to lose his audience so quickly.

He adjusted his scarf around his neck, throwing it back so it was out of his way as he leaned on the bar. His eyes went over the bottles on the racks behind the counter. "I have not had anything to drink in months, man," he admitted, unable to really think about what he wanted now that the choice was right in front of him. "I'm like... A.A. level sober, you know? Not even fair. Don't even get a silly little coin for my trouble," he sighed dramatically. "How about just a good ol' German beer. Or if you even have it, mulled wine." That was not something he had ever had to drink in the days spent partying with his friends. It was more of a childhood thing when there weren't so many children and he and his older siblings were allowed to taste the heated wine on really cold days. If he wanted anything more, he was sure it wasn't too big of a deal.

"My name's Terran, by the way." The introduction was a bit belated, seeing as that had been the bartender's first question. But the theatrics came first! "I really hope you don't mind annoying customers."
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                                              xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxI'm at Sangria with a patron feeling curious
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                                                  xxxxxLear gave Terran an amused grin, finding it funny that he was playing along with the lame joke. “Well I'll go ahead and save you the trouble and say that I probably just smell like sweat and alcohol anyway. Can't drive away my only customer for the night!

                                                  xxxxxThe man was interesting, to say the least. Aside from the piercings protruding from his lower lip, he also had a strange, outlandish name. Well, outlandish in the sense that Lear couldn't recognize the origin of it, given that Terra Volantis consisted of a melting pot of every kind of race and human left on the planet. But above all, his mannerisms were the strangest he'd seen in weeks. He was like the combination of a child and a comedian, quite different from the usual husky, indifferent drunk.

                                                  xxxxxPleasure to meet you, I'm Lear. And no worries, annoying customers are my strong suit.” Lear smirked at Terran, appreciating the mildly comical conversation. “I don't get many A.A. level sober people around here. What's the special occasion then?

                                                  xxxxxAs he conversed, he reached for the few ingredients used to make mulled wine. Sugar, spice, and everything nice, all mixed with a portion of red wine and water. It certainly is a good choice, quite appropriate given the time of year. Mulled wine was one of the first beverages he decided to learn, given that somewhere in his mind he remembered that his father drank it during the wintertime. The familiar warm aroma drifted through the air, engulfing him with a remote sense of nostalgia.

                                                  xxxxxHere you are, sir. Mulled wine served warm and cozy.” He was careful not to let the contents spill as he placed the beverage in front of Terran. Steam swirled over the warmed mixture, inviting and comfortable. “Enjoy.

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    Moosifer00
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♫ ♪
т є я я α и н ι є в
But baby, you can call me "Krik"
± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ± : . : ±


Krik liked this guy already. He had a good sense of humor and didn't seem to mind his silliness. Hell, he even seemed to welcome it. Perhaps it was just a bartender thing to humor your customers, but at the moment, Krik did not mind at all. He could do with a little humoring. "Sweat and alcohol? Sounds like a crappy scent, man. You should get your money back." It was truly a shame he was the only one out and about this evening. Perhaps it would fill up as the night progressed. It was a nice place, this. Surely worthy of the immense crowd he had seen filtering in so many weekends before.

"The special occasion, well..." he watched him from across the bar as he went around preparing the spiced wine himself. He had thought it would have simply come from a bottle, already prepared, but this place was nice enough to be able to prepare it on the spot. Or had it always been that way? He couldn't say. He had never special ordered mulled wine before. It was always just something provided by his parents. "Just had a bit of extra time and money and I felt like I deserved the break." First serious thing he had said all evening. "I just needed a little reprieve from my day to day. Sure that's why anyone comes in here at all, am I right?"

The wine was completed and served to him in a nice steaming goblet. It was warm and it was sweet and it smelled divine. Like times long past. The good old days. He took a moment to just waft the smells into his senses, closing his eyes and grinning happily. "Haven't had this in ages, man. Thank you." A little sip and he decided it would need to cool just a bit if he didn't want to burn his tongue. "All it needs is a blanket and some cuddles. Maybe a big fireplace and I'm at grandpa's house all over again." He laughed at his own addition to the scene. "Would you cuddle with me, sir?" he joked, "Or does that cost extra?"
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"Medical science has proven time and again that when the resources are provided, great progress in the treatment, cure, and prevention of disease can occur."

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What am I doing? Yumiko thought leaning back in her chair to stare at the ceiling. It was a Saturday evening, the clinic had already been closed for an hour, and she was still sitting here twiddling her thumbs. Letting out an exasperated sigh she glanced over at the clock on her desk. Yup,definitely time for me to leave. Sitting up and pushing herself away from the desk she gathered the files that she was looking at. Placing them into her messenger bag she got up and walked toward the door. Flicking the light switch off she looked down the hall. The janitor who was servicing the clinic waved goodnight to her. Returning the wave awkwardly, Yumiko made her way out and locked the front door. Slinging the bag over her shoulder she walked ten blocks down from the clinic.

Now normally Yumiko doesn't make any stops on her way home. She rather doesn't like public places. But for some reason today she didn't feel like going home. There wasn't much waiting for her there except some books. So as she was walking down the rather secluded area she decided she was going to stop at the Sangria. Now Yumiko had passed this place a few times, but had never bothered to enter. She was never much of a drinker, nor did she care for drunks or loud music. But this place seemed rather quiet, and after the case load she had earlier she could use a good drink.

Cautiously entering into the bar the young woman first noticed that it was rather empty, except for two men. One of them appeared to be the bar tender, and the other was enjoying what appeared to be a beer of some sort. Glancing around nervously she walked a little farther into the bar. It was nice and quiet, save the music that was playing the background. Going over to the bar she placed her bag on an empty stool next to where she was going to sit. Being of petite stature getting onto the stool proved a little awkward, but she managed. Glancing over at the two men she figured it would be best to let them finish their conversation. After all if she interrupted it that would imply that she wanted to speak as well. Opening her bag she pulled out the files she was working on and continued to read through and occasionally scribble something down. Just keep to yourself and no one will talk to you. When the bartender notices another customer he will ask you what you want and then you simply answer with as few words as possible. Don't make any eye contact. Shutting her eyes for a moment Yumiko sighed Why do I put myself in these situaitons?




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Prinzack's avatar

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                                              xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxI'm at Sangria with Terran and a young woman feeling curious
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                                                  xxxxxExtra time and money, huh? What an unusual combination. Anyone who came into the bar either had too much money and no time, too much time and no money, or they just lacked time and money altogether. Unless you were one of the privileged high class folk, having extra time and money was an absolute luxury.

                                                  xxxxxNo problem, Terran. And you came to the right place at the right time to get that reprieve of yours. You pretty much have the bar to yourself, though I'm sorry to say that I'm not in the business of cuddling.

                                                  xxxxxAs if on cue, however, the door to the entrance creaked open, and in walked a small young lady. Without a word, she moseyed over to the counter and pulled herself up onto a stool before burying herself in her files. Lear hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. She hardly looked like she wanted to be here, yet no one was forcing her to stay. Still, no matter what the circumstances were, he was a bartender, an entertainer and soother by trade.

                                                  xxxxxHe turned to Terran and chuckled. “I would suggest that you ask her, but something tells me she isn't in the business of cuddling either.” Taking a step back, Lear reached down and picked up the forgotten bottle of whiskey, which had already emptied the majority of its contents onto his legs and the glossed floor. He placed it on the back counter in the sink, clicking his tongue in annoyance for wasting goods, then approached the young lady.

                                                  xxxxxWhat can I do for you tonight, Miss?” His eyes scanned over her, going from the conflicted expression on her face to the complicated stack of files in her hands. She looked a bit young, especially given her petite stature, but her work definitely did not look like that of a school girl. Still, better safe than sorry. “Also, I apologize ahead of time, but I'm going to need to see your ID.

                                                  xxxxxIt was always a hassle checking to make sure his patrons were of age to drink, not to mention awkward. But he didn't exactly want the government sniffing around in his bar, giving him trouble. Formalities were a must.


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    Moosifer00
    Chibi Angel-chan
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"Medical science has proven time and again that when the resources are provided, great progress in the treatment, cure, and prevention of disease can occur."

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At first Yumiko did not hear the bartender's question. She was rather intrigued with this one case that was among the files. A young man who had walked into her clinic for chest pain had no symptoms of a heart attack, or of any heart diseases. All his other vitals came out clean as well as the blood work. Scratching her head she looked up from the file to ponder what could be wrong when she realized that she had made eye contact with the bartender. Her face flushing as she hurriedly put down the file she assumed he must have spoken to her about what she wanted. After all the next part was asking for her ID. Fumbling around in her bag she procured an old leather wallet, from which she extracted her ID. "I-I'm 22." She managed to stammer out placing the ID on the countertop for the young bartender to see. "No need to apologize. It happens quite often." Her voice was certainly lacking confidence and she kept her eyes averted, staring just passed the bartender.

Come on Yumiko keep it together! He just wants to know what you want to drink so tell the poor man! Smiling nervously the young girl glanced around. She wasn't much of a drinker, in fact she can't recall the last time she had consumed a beverage with alcohol in it. Her mother had taken her out for her 21st birthday but that was it. "Uhh...Do you have a fruity...drink? I mean...something like lemonade? Oh..." The girl went silent, her brow furrowed as she feverishly tried to think of something to ask for. Glancing up at the wall of alcohol behind the bar she figure she could always pick something from there, but there was a chance it would be strong and she was certainly a light weight. "I am unsure...I-I apologize I don't do this very often so I have insufficient knowledge of the alcoholic beverage I would like to purchase. I would suppose asking for something else that does not contain alcohol would be rather silly considering I came to a bar. You know I..." she trailed off and began to mumble, almost as if she were having a conversation with herself rather than with the bartender. Eventually she stopped looked around as if she had forgotten where she was and started over, more timidly. "W-what do y-you recommend?"


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                                              xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxI'm at Sangria with Terran and Yumiko feeling friendly
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                                                  xxxxxThe young lady's belated overreaction was comical, so much so that Lear had to forced himself to swallow a laugh. But while her entire persona radiated an unconventional level of timidity, he saw from her files and attitude that her character upheld an inspiring work ethic. Why else would she be up so late going over files outside of a hospital or clinic? Though the bar admittedly wasn't the most logical place to be doing work that took so much focus and attention, he had to give her props for slaving away like that.

                                                  xxxxxTaking just a short glance at the young woman's identification, he gave her a nod of acknowledgment before deciding on his suggested beverage selections. The poor woman came to a bar, not knowing a thing about the drinks served there. From the look of her, he didn't know if he wanted to recommend an alcoholic drink at all, which was ironic given that he put her through the trouble of procuring her ID. Without a word, he continued to listen as she rambled, mashing her thoughts together in a train of unanswered statements. How lucky it was for him to have two amusing customers in one night.

                                                  xxxxxUnsure of whether or not she actually wanted alcohol, he gave his suggestion a shot and offered when she finished her thought. “How do you feel about a Shirley Temple? It's sweet, much like soda, and contains very little alcohol. Perfect for one such as you, I'd say. He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it would calm her down a little. Perhaps it was something about the bar setting, or the fact that she was alone in the presence of two male strangers, but she seemed incredibly nervous and flustered. “Also, seeing as how I got to see your name, Miss Yumiko, I think it's only fair that I give you mine. I'm Lear, and it's a pleasure to meet you.


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    Chibi Angel-chan
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"Medical science has proven time and again that when the resources are provided, great progress in the treatment, cure, and prevention of disease can occur."

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While the bartender had slipped into his thoughts for a moment Yumiko picked up the files again haphazardly glancing down at it and then back at the bartender. This case, she needed to figure it out. Very few people ever perished in the clinic, and even fewer at the hands of her father. She needed to know if the files of these deceased people she held were significant in any way. Realizing the bartender was about to speak again she shut the file and glanced nervously past him. Making eye contact was probably not a good thing if he was to understand what she was saying. It wasn't that she didn't like him, honestly she didn't have an opinion of him yet. He seemed nice enough. Carefully glancing down the bar at the other young man, she studied him for a moment. He too, seemed harmless enough. None of them looked or acted like royalty, which meant that they probably weren't of upper class. Of course she couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but what would an upper class person be doing down here any way. She was pretty sure they had their own bars and entertainment places in Section 2.

Turning back to the bartender as he presented her with his recommendation Yumiko nodded. "T-that sounds great, M-Mister Bartender,....Sir?" she looked rather confused as she thought about how she should address the bartender. I probably should just stick to Sir, Mr.Bartender makes me sound like I'm in middle school. I need to act sophisticated or else I'll look rather ridiculous. What kind of 22 year old talks like that any way? Pull it together....

Yumiko continued on her mental tirade until she heard her name. Looking the bartender directly in the eyes it was obvious he startled her by saying her name. Yumiko could feel ever muscle in her body tense as her mind began to race. How did he know my name?!Oh no! Maybe he's figured me out! What am I to do?! Pausing for a moment her thought process slowed down, it only took her a few seconds to piece together what had happened. Wait...he...saw...my...ID... Nodding to herself, her body relaxed once more and she sighed quietly. Glancing back up at the bartender, knowing that he probably thought she was rather suspicious at this point she gave a half smile. "N-Nice to meet you Mister L-L-Lear." Leaning on the bar with one arm she cast her glance at the ground. "I-I apologize for my st-stranger behavior. I-I have been w-working since five o'clock this m-m-morning and I am r-rather drained. I-I...I-I am also n-not a-accustomed to these s-situations." Chuckling a little to herself she shook her head "If you c-couldn't tell." Taking the file from her lap she placed it onto the bar and opened it, scribbled a few things down, and then shut it again. "Ready for th-that d-drink Mister Lear. M-maybe it will h-help with this..."


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                                                            LOCATION: La Sangria
                                                            COMPANY: The bartender, the stutter machine, some weirdo.
                                                            OOC: N/A

              DAMIEN LANGSTON
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                  “Bye Damien! Thanks for your hard work! See you tomorrow~ ” was what he heard over his shoulders as he locked the pharmacy's doors.

                  Yeah. Whatever. Get out of his face.

                  Why did he ever sign up to be a pharmacy technician? He should have known better than to deal with a nosy and hyperactive employer. It was beyond horrible. Her dreadful high-pitched tone often made his ears bleed—but the damage was never severe enough to make him deaf. How unfortunate.

                  A long sigh left his lips. Pulling up his left sleeve, he checked the time on his watch. As he began to walk, he contemplated on whether or not he should get a glass before heading home. It did not seem such a terrible idea; it was a long day at work and to reward himself seemed like the right thing to do on a cloud and cold Saturday evening.

                  It was unconventional for an anti-social person such as himself to be at the bar. However, the sound of the crowd often kept him from over-thinking. The commotion would drown his need to reflect upon meaningless things. It was much more compelling to think about who to add on his blacklist and whatnot. There was a large selection of bars and lounges for him to go to. Habit often invited him back to Sangria. It happened to be practical to be there since it was situated close to his home and work. Lear Walker, although a good socializer, was not an intrusive bartender. It was that rare trait that made him loyal to the place. He would not consider himself as a regular client but the grouchy man passed by often enough for the barman to know his name. There was no sound coming out of the place but Damien was still hoped that his ears were playing tricks on him and that Sangria held at least twenty people inside. Much to his disappointment, there was no big crowd to entertain the King of Grouches. No matter. He may have to deal with stares and unnecessary social interactions but at least the wait for his order wouldn't take as long. After all, the only reason he came to Sangria was for a casual drink before heading home.

                  His golden gaze took a quick scan of the almost vacant bar before taking his seat at the extremity of the table counter, keeping a fair distance between the bartender’s clients and himself. Considerate human beings would understand that he had no interest in engaging himself in the conversation. A glance was all he gave to Walker’s clients. He did, however, recognize Dr. Amaterasu's daughter, Yumiko. He had never really spoken to her unless he really had to. That habit would not change here. From what Damien gathered, she was a business oriented person. Conveniently, chit-chatting was not his favourite hobby either.

                  After the pharmacy technician took his seat, he unbuttoned, pulled out his black pea coat, and settled it on the vacant seat beside him. He did same with his leather messenger bag, strapping it off his shoulder and set it under his coat and dark blue cashmere scarf.

                  Folding his hands together and resting them on the table, the Swedish man waited for Lear to approach him. The last thing he wanted to do was to interrupt them. And when the British man would near him, Damien would greet the man with a light nod and simply say, "X.O Cognac.”


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                                              xx» L є α гxxW α l к є гxxx| |xxxI'm at Sangria with Terran, Yumiko, and Damien, feeling friendly
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                                                  xxxxxSomething about the way Yumiko glanced at the pair of men called to Lear's attention. It was more than her just being shy and fidgety; he predicted that she was also possibly hiding something. Momentary curiosity crossed his mind, but he decided to wave it aside. The poor girl already looked as if she wanted to disappear from their sights, the least he wanted to do was to chase her out with suspicious questions. So he let her be and turned away to begin mixing a mild Shirley Temple for the young lady. Perhaps a slight taste of alcohol would help ease her mind.

                                                  xxxxxYou can call me Lear, if you like.” he said with a light chuckle, aware that she was unsure of what to call him. “Here you are, a nice, harmless Shirley Temple to help you get back to work. Don't get yourself too stressed out over there.” His eyes flickered over at her stack of files as he smiled, feeling a little sorry for her regarding the large workload.

                                                  xxxxxSatisfied with the level of serenity in the bar, Lear went back to the counter and retrieved a rag from the cabinets. He disappeared behind the bar, crouching so he could mop up the whiskey that had spilled down his leg earlier. It was a pity that he worked alone, or he would have been able to leave the bar to go upstairs and change into a fresh pair of pants as well. But alas, the bar was his and only his, and at the bar he would stay until closing. At the very least the alcohol had long begun to dry on his leg, and he was also now accustomed to the damp feeling. As he finished cleaning up the mess on the floor, his ears perked up to the sound of the door again. Finally, it was beginning to feel more like a bar again.

                                                  xxxxxWith the wet old rag tossed in the back, Lear reemerged from the back of the counter and greeted the newcomer. He recognized the man to be Damien Langston, a quiet and serious man who pretty much always kept to himself, even at the bar. Which was curious, since the bar was the last place Lear would expect people to visit to be alone. Still, a customer was a customer, and he'd seen Damien enough to almost consider him a regular.

                                                  xxxxxApproaching the man, Lear grinned at the sound of Damien's request. ”Ah, you always have a taste for the good stuff. Coming right up, my good sir.” The drink only took moments to prepare, and within a few minutes he finished, sliding the glass over to the silent, brooding man.


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    Chibi Angel-chan
    Pearlholy
Chibi Angel-chan's avatar

Bashful Genius

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✥ Yůміκθ Λмαŧεřαςů ✥

"Medical science has proven time and again that when the resources are provided, great progress in the treatment, cure, and prevention of disease can occur."

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Peering around Lear, Yumiko timidly watched the bartender mixing the drink. Though she was feeling a little bit more at ease in the bar, she still got the nagging feeling that she should be careful. After all if she was too careless, someone here could find out what she had been up to for the past year or so. Then she’d have to go through the hassle of making some lame excuse followed by giving up her research for a while. That would certainly put her farther back on the project than she’d like to be. As she was observing the drink making process intently she heard a noise come from behind, which startled her. Fumbling around with the folders that she has almost dropped she turned back around to see someone enter the bar. At first, it took a while to recognize the person. But as he got closer, Yumiko could feel her heart drop. I-I think I know that guy! She thought, studying the male intently. He looked so familiar, but from where?

Gently putting her folders on the countertop she could feel the answer on the tip of her brain when Lear spoke again breaking her concentration. Shaking her head a little to refocus herself she turned her attention back to the kind bartender. Giving herself a moment to process what he had just said, she nodded slowly. Taking the drink from him she nodded again, this time with more confidence. “T-thank you, L-Lear.” Staring at him and then at the files she gave a nervous laugh. “O-oh! Don’t worry a-about that. I-I’m used to it. R-running a clinic is a lot of w-work.” The girl smiled hesitantly and then wondered if she had said too much. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him she runs a clinic, maybe he works for the government and he could figure that out. Frowning and crossing her arms, she thought about it deeply for a moment and then gave up. It wasn’t worth worrying about now, what was done was done. More importantly she needed to do three things now. First would be to inspect this drink before drinking it, second would be to identify the mysterious new man who felt so familiar, and thirdly would be to finish these folders.

Going on to the first matter at hand, the young woman pushed her glasses up farther on her nose. Peering into the drink she had never quite seen one of these before. Watching the red fluid effervesce the girl concluded that it was carbonated in some manner. The red color appeared to be from maybe a fruit extract, or it could just be food coloring. Glancing around furtively the girl figured that since she had ordered it, she might as well trust him and drink it. Taking a small sip of it, the girl’s eyes lit up a little. It was actually good! Glancing down at the glass as if she had just discovered something completely unfound and amazing she found herself smiling like an idiot. This, of course, only lasted for a few moments, as she was reminded by Lear’s conversation that there were other people here. Smile fading the girl sipped on the drink again and turned her attention back to identifying the stranger. Giving him a once over, the girl was sure that he was someone she had met before, if only for a little. Maybe he was a client of his father? She was sure that he had never come to the clinic to be treated, she would remember that. But maybe he had helped out, or was a family member of a patient? Perhaps he just passed by the clinic once? Sipping on her drink the girl completely forgot that she was staring intently at him. Yumiko was less concerned with the social norm that staring was rude, and was more concerned with the fact that she could not identify this mystery man.

The girl was about to give up her inquiry, figuring the files were easier to work on than this, but then it hit her. A blush came over her face as she turned away from the man. Oh gosh…that’s the pharmacist! That’s where I know him from! Oh no! I’ve stared too long! What if he gets upset? What am I supposed to do!? I don’t usually talk to him. He doesn’t seem to like me…or people…hmm that reminds me of a case… From there her mind wandered off as she tried to bury the idea that she had been rudely staring at the guy who helped supply the clinic with the medication. She had referred quite a number of people to that pharmacy as well, it was the most affordable and most of the people who worked there were nice. Maybe she just had the unfortunate luck to have to interact with him. Then again he never seemed to bother her, he just always seemed so… “Stoic…” she finished quietly and nodded. Putting the half-finished drink down on the table, Yumiko went to take the folders and start looking at them again. However, as she was taking them away from the bar, a few of the case files lost all of the paperwork. Papers flew down to the floor as the girl stared horrified. “Oh no! She hissed quietly and jumped down from the stool to gather them. Hopefully no one would offer to help, if they looked at her notes and the files they might be able to piece together what she was doing.


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