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Dinah paid for Oliver's martini and got another bottle of Guinness for herself. "So, aside from our apparent Romeo and Juliet situation, is there anything else you'd like to talk about, sharpshooter?" she asked.

Now was the time to stop this man from coming onto him, to tell d**k that he was completely straight. But . . . he kind of liked the attentions of this older man, and when he rubbed his foot against Edmund's, he almost gave a small jump, but his training wouldn't let him. The much younger man gave him that same soft smile as before and shook his head gently. "No, it's quite all right. I don't mind at all, d**k."

"And who's to say that what we might have would be as short-lived as Romeo and Juliet?"

d**k blushed and smield back. "Really?" He bit his lip nervously. "I'll behave somewhat. Just let me know If I act like a creeper ok." He smirked.
He gave Edmund's foot another small rub and left it at that. He didn't want to seem to weird.
"So what kind of hobbies do you have?" d**k asked. He was curious about the guy. He had quite a resume of martial arts under his belt, but for what reason?

Dinah laughed. "Oh, so now I'm a rock to wear down, eh? This just keeps getting better and better."

the junker pulled up and the soldier got out. He looked around at the small area. "hmmm, must be the place". He thought. Reaching back into the truck he grabbed his duffel, strapped his weaponry to it and as the junker roared off, Marched to the door and opened it.

The warmth of the fire and the smells of hot food eveloped him. He stopped inside the door, Looking at the myraid different people. "Strange, They don't look like your average stranded". The Soldier stored his duffel in a corner with his weapons,and took stock of his appearance. He ranged an average height about 6' tall, he was slender but well muscled. His armor made him a large bulk, the thick kevlar turning his small frame into a giant hulk. His short dark hair was covered by a skull cape that was a thin black cloth. He walked to the bar noticing that no around him seemed to mind his presence or really care. "Not stranded, Definitely". He thought. As he got to the bar he found an empty stool and sat down to rest. It had been a long day at Perdition.

"Peggy," she replied as her crimson lips curling into a smile, "and you have my sincerest of thanks." Graciously, she tipped her glass towards him and took a brief sip. "So, do tell me, Mr. Akihiro," she began, "why have we never been introduced thus far?"

As Peggy began to stir the contents of her drink with the allotted toothpick, Natasha's eye turned from her book to the young consort that had taken interest in her company. There was something odd about his presence, something she couldn't quite place, and that was enough to make her utterly suspicious. In silence, she watched the two, her emerald eyes narrowing into a subtle glare.




Artemis laughed at her own ruse and its effect on Match. However, when he threw a wildcat technique into the mix and succeeded, she began smelling a rat..

"So you are hustling me," she stated, her brows furrowing from annoyance. "First you almost throw me from a skyscrapper, then you interrupt my sleep, you give away my position to some winged-amazonian, and now you're attempting to hustle me in darts." She tsk'd, kicking her feet up on the table once more, her arms crossed. "Wonderful friendship this is turning out to be. You're buying the next round if you have any intention of keeping it."




Under cloak of darkness moved another entity within the dimensional anomaly. She couldn't tell you why nor how she arrived, but when the gentle glow of the alehouse came into view she was overly thrilled. It was quite early in the night for an appearance, at least for her taste, but tonight it was time to try something new. The aged doors groaned as she pushed them open but remained a mere whisper in the sea of conversations within. The bustling atmosphere of the tavern was quite intoxicating. She bit her lip as it curled into a malevolent smirk. Tonight would be fun.

She found her way to an empty stool lining the bar, sticking towards the back to survey the room. The pickings were slim at best, most seemed to be still in costume from the night's prior adventures, but than again, so was she. Her gloved fingers began idly rapping upon the wooden counter. There wasn't a clear cut plan of attack, nor even the actual thought of one, but she liked to keep her options open. As the bartender finally advanced, she ceased her impatient tell and instead raised the hand to removed her goggles out of courtesy.

"Single malt scotch, please," she stated, to which the man complied. Drink in hand, Selina continued her observes in silence.

"I told you, I'm not hustling you. That was a total and complete fluke." He came over and sat down beside her since it was her shot. "What's up with this place anyway? Are they not carding?"