Turn off the Lights in Here;; (Tag; Sita)

[Damien Callahan]

It wasn’t that late outside yet and light was filtering gently into his bar. It was deserted and would be until happy hour and he knew it. Still, some life was beginning to be injected into the building and that made him smile a little. He had a wet towel in his hand and was wiping one of his whiskey glasses clean before placing it gently face down on the drying rack next to his hands. Even happy hour would be light and probably be just students who wanted a pint. He was fine with that. His pub was open for anyone that needed that ability to drink without having to worry about either fae or shades.

Putting the glass down, he washed his hands in the sink and continued with plates. He just got a shipment of food and was ready to start serving again. It was an exciting time surely and he was feeling good about what was going on around him. Things were finally easing and he could continue his time in peace.

The beer signs behind him were standing dull but not for long with the electricity provided from the gas generator he had out back. It was something he had to invest in and was able to after ‘scavenging’ it from an abandoned house. There still seemed to be gas, so he was all but happy to use it. That would be for later though. For now, he was pleasantly happy just cleaning these dishes before people came asking for pints.

His hair was flowing gently across his head and his scruffy beard was beginning to grow gently into stubble across his chin. His clothes were black. A t-shirt and slacks and was fitting for work at the bar. He needed nothing that could get dirty and it helped deal with the fact that he had no air conditioning installed. That generator on back only was used for once thing, heating water and providing a tap. Beyond that, he could care less. He had an occupation to settle and work to bring and he wasn’t going to concern himself with such difficulties as air conditioning. It was a wasteful expense and it would probably break down anyways.

An open window just worked as fine. There were hardly any looters left and he hadn’t seen much crime, or crime he couldn’t manage. He was safe in his pub and he made sure of that.

[Sita Verito]

Outfit Link

The light was still around, from the dying sun. Dying because technically it was, every minute of every day like everything else. Though there was also the figure of speech which had nothing to do with it dying, the Earth was merely rotating and allowing the sun to shine somewhere else in the world. Normal people didn't think these thoughts, she knew that. She was also aware of the fact that the only reason her brain jumped on these facts was because technically she didn't give it enough stimulus, particularly lately. One of her teachers had called her a genius, of course that teacher was proved wrong when she'd purposefully failed a test. That was also the only teacher that ever suggested she was purposefully failing, so finishing that year of school was a bonus to get rid of a teacher who could see beneath the lie.

Walking the street she kept her gaze wandering, glancing and watching others that traveled as well. Weary of what might come next in this unstable world. Which was why she was wearing a hood and large sunglasses, though honestly it was also to stand out a bit. Regular people with hoods would wear dark colors, but dark colors were so yesterday. She smirked at her own thoughts as she walked along, at least until she spied a bar that was open. Alcohol killed brain cells. How much of it would she need to drink before they killed enough to lower her IQ to the average person? Not nearly as much as she could technically consume without passing out cold. Besides, alcohol didn't really agree with her system.

Still, it was a place to go and somewhere that was typical and ordinary. She could pretend it was all natural, that the world wasn't hell now. So Sita veered on her path, turning into the bar and walking inside with her sunglasses still over her face. Her eyes could make out only so much with the darkness caused by being indoors, the sun going down and her sunglasses being on. Instead of taking them off straight away, which every ordinary person may have done she walked to the bar with them on and sat down on one of the stools, up the bench a little way from the bartender who was evidently cleaning up a bit before the rush that would undoubtedly come. When the world became hell people tried to drink themselves out of reality.

[Damien Callahan]

Damien looked towards the person who just game in. She was in a bright hoodie and sunglasses. Back in the day, this appearance would be sketchy as all hell. It would like some criminal attempting to rob him. Then again, this was not those times from long ago. The barley was burnt and the wind only howled across the fields of Dublin. She was just some girl by the looks of her face and she probably wanted a drink. Who could blame her? These were desperate times and people got off however they could to make it go by just a little easier.

“What can I get ya?” Damien asked the girl calmly, putting his glass down in the sink and going to her. She didn’t look like she wanted to converse and instead looked quiet. Her eyes were blocked by her sunglasses and he couldn’t register an emotion from just her lips in that neutral position he came to notice. Still, he wanted tips and didn’t want to scare her away. The rush wouldn’t be for a little bit and any customer he could get was worth it. It was hard times, even for a bartender in Dublin. Every churchman was running to the pub to drink and he couldn’t help them on the way because the shades would get them first. It was a sad existence surely. He wondered if she was like that. Some scared person running from the little shadows behind her, hoping for some miracle behind a draft.

Grabbing a glass, he began to wipe it. A smug little smirk grew on his face as if he knew something she didn’t. “The first one’s free.” That smirk became a little twisted grin directed at her. Oh, was he going to have fun today. Hopefully she was a good sport. People paid tips for laughter right? Maybe if he’s funny enough, he can guarantee that money. Well, he hoped so at least.

[Sita Verito]

Something helpful when it came to sunglasses was no one knew where you were looking exactly. Like when the bartender approached, he wouldn't have a clue if she was actually looking at him or staring off somewhere else. Nor would he be able to know what she was thinking exactly. The commonly accepted untruth was that the eyes were the windows to the soul. That was a load of crap of course, she didn't believe it and nor should any sane person, but eyes did give up a certain portion of emotion and they were harder to train. That's why there were common 'tells' of a person lying and such with their eyes.

At his question she kept her mouth set in neutral and lifted her arms slightly, a small shrug that only served to make it appear like she wasn't paying him much attention. Yet she was looking, after all she could appreciate strange guys and he was cute even for a bartender. Not exactly the dream job or anything, at least in her mind, but this day and age you'd have to take what you could get. Which in her case was being a thief but otherwise technically unemployed.

His second comment actually made a corner of her mouth quirk up, slightly amused by the offer. "Well in that case, I'll take a Fire Engine, thanks." Free drinks were free drinks, might as well take them up where they came. Saved having to use stolen money, it was less law breaking that way. Waiting for him to move and get the drink prepared she stayed still until he was focused on the task and then moved her hands up, removing her sunglasses and folding them up. Placing them on the bar in front of herself she glanced around again, taking everything in quickly with her eyes no longer diminished by the lenses within the glasses.

Her eyes returned to look at her sunglasses on the bar before he approached once more with her prepared drink and she lifted her blues to meet his. Interesting. His were something to notice, they were offset well with his other features. "So, you either own the bar or you're a committed worker. Which are you?" It wasn't hard to guess these things, in fact she was particularly good at putting small things together to come up with the larger picture. Not that she let people know, she'd just make her occasional remark and then keep on moving, hoping no one was smart enough to put two and two together. Not many people were smart enough, and the rest were too busy absorbed in their own lives to give a damn.

[Damien Callahan]

Damien smiled at her request. “Coming right up.” He said calmly and went at making the drink. He went into his little mini-freezer next to his legs and pulled out a bottle of Blue’s Vodka. Getting a glass, he went into the fridge next to it and got the grenadine and orange juice. He gathered the ingredients together and filled in the two shots of vodka with the orange juice, adding the grenadine to give it that reddish color. For fun he thought about lighting the drink on fire but thought against it. It wouldn’t be worth it and probably would just make a mess. Putting the ingredients away, he passed her the drink.

Her sunglasses now, and in the reflection of his eyes he looked upon her own blues. They were beautiful and fit her face quite well. He could catch the red slipping from the hoodie and thought how it completed her face. It was not quite the Irish redhead he had become accustomed to, but with a lot more fire. It came with a darker complexion than the women he had seen who would burn so easily in the sunlight. It was what he would call brilliant. It was truly God’s work.

Then, the spell was gone and she had gone back to looking at her sunglasses. She was a sharp one. She probably noticed that no one else was here and that he was all alone at this bar. Even so, that was a good catch by her eyes. “No one else is here or owns this place, so yeah. I guess I own it.” He replied calmly, a sharp little grin popping up on his face in the good old Irish pub owner manner. It was a fun act to play, being a good-natured polite man.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here? Gorgeous girls like you should be out parading the streets, not holing themselves up at little pubs like this. I gotta wonder why you’re here.” His grin turned into a smirk before he went back to cleaning dishes. “My name’s Damien by the way. What’s yours?” He wondered what was going on in that clever little mind of hers and what she could be thinking. It was a new time and different people had their different reasons. Though for him, all he wanted to know at that moment was what hers was.

[Sita Verito]

Technically she hadn't needed him to confirm that he owned it, the way he handled himself and his environment gave off that familiarity that went beyond simply working at a place. Then there was the fact that he was the only one, which either meant he was part owner or highly trusted, though in these times usually meant the simplest answer. Which he gave. He was the owner. No surprise there, the only slightly wrong thing about it was how young he looked. Not much older than her in her own opinion, but there were those who were blessed with youthful looks when actually being completely developed.

Asking why she was here wasn't an odd question either, asked with more frequency these days. Why are you here? Are you one of them? No, she wasn't. But she wasn't your average person either. Leaning forward on the bar she met his eyes with her own, hers practically offering up a dark and tempting dare. "Do you think a few words of flattery will get a girl like me to answer your questions? These are dark times, a girl ought to be careful about what information she shares with strangers." Her tone was like her eyes, dark and daring yet with a hint of feminine charm. She knew what to say and how to say it. One didn't get in with a crew of low grade criminals without knowing how to handle herself.

Leaning back so that she was sitting properly once more on her stool she lifted the drink and took a sip, letting the liquid linger and roll over her tongue before she swallowed it. "You can call me Red, no that's not my actual name. As for why I'm here, I didn't have anywhere else to be. Have I satisfied your curiosity?" In all honesty Sita certainly hoped she hadn't, because she wanted to play games with him now. He was cute and willing to talk, not exactly something that often happened. Flicking her gaze up and down what she could see of him with the bar between them she considered him for a moment. "How old are you?"

[Damien Callahan]

Damien arched an eyebrow at the girl. Oh, she was definitely a smart one. She was a little smart-mouthed too. He liked it. Taking a glass down from the shelf and washing it, he looked at her and nodded. “Well, good point. These are dark times, but it helps when people tell you that you are the good parts of a world gone mad non?” It wasn’t really flirting as just something sweet. He wanted those tips damnit and he was going to get them one way or another! If that meant flattery, so be it! He was getting it.

Taking the smudges out of it, he looked her over again. There was something magnetic about her and he didn’t understand what. Maybe it was that personality, and he was just getting drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame. A cute flame, but a flame nonetheless.

He watched her drink and awaited the next order. “Okay Red, my name is Damien.” He replied calmly, wiping out another smudge as she continued her questioning. “Yes, I guess my curiosity was answered and I’m 18.” He replied confidently and with a smile, the scruff around his cheek turning blond as the sun changed position in the bar. It was getting a little blinding he had to admit. “Still, early out. Got anywhere to sleep at least? This place doubles as an inn.” He replied calmly, pointing upwards at a stairway that led to a few rooms. “If you need it, I can help give you some lodging if you got nowhere else to go.” This was more kindness coming from him. It was rare but he decided why not. The kid had nowhere to go and he was sure as hell not letting her get eaten by Shades. He wouldn’t live with himself otherwise. Plus, she was cute. So there was definitely that in his decision-making process.