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originally posted in:The New Dojo
10/6/2016 7:07:14 AM
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[b]The bar door eventually opened slightly and a very bizarre newcomer entered. Instantly, a hush fell over the bar as silent feet found a place in the corner.[/b]
[b]If Drake turned to see the new arrival, he would have found an other-worldly being, with light blue skin. She was outstandingly beautiful, with long red hair like a sunset, and large eyes like warm and passionate fires to contrast her bizarre skin. She wore a long black dress that exposed quite a bit of skin, yet covered her head with a thin hood. A strange crest and needle held her hair in place while still showing she wasn't just some pauper. But perhaps her strangest feature was the strands and lines of green color that swarmed her arms, legs, and even her clothes.[/b]
[b]Many of the patrons gave her surprised glances, other's amused. She was the sort of creature that didn't quite belong... But she seemed oblivious to any kind of stares, her eyes curious and interested, as if she was experiencing such a place for the first time.[/b]
[b]Her gaze passed over Drake one or two times, but she mostly kept her face buried in a menu, seemingly trying to decipher what it said. She couldn't understand the symbols, and so she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.[/b]
English
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[i]Drake gave her a double-take: once for the looks, and once for a more analytical glance, before he turns back to his drink. He knew the helplessness she felt: due to his lack of formal education, he was barely able to read. The only reason he could read these menus is because he frequented such places so often, that he was able to match the product with the alien symbols on the page. Normally, he'd go straight in for business, for someone to spend the night with. But perhaps that mindset had been left in the past, alongside so many of his old habits. A light scar sat on his left cheek; a reminder of the fault in his old ways. Now, he'd try to help her not because he was trying to get in her pants, but instead in a genuine effort. He walked over to her, brushing his black hair back up onto his forehead, where it sat neatly gelled and combed.[/i] "I can see that you're looking a little confused there. If my opinion's worth anything, I'd recommend the Vodka--it's a bit of an acquired taste, but that's what this place's known for." [i]He paused for a second, realizing that he was forgetting something.[/i] "Oh, and I'm Michael. Nice to meet you."
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[b]She turned her eyes to Drake with a simple stare, quiet and curious. He was interesting, and not bad looking for a human... Which seemed to be the main kind of species.[/b] [b]She gave a meek smile and nodded silently, not exactly sure what whiskey was. She hadn't heard of most the food stuffs around these parts, and she forgot most of the complicated names.[/b] [b]But there was one thing she knew how to do right, and that was to greet someone.[/b] [i]"Hello, Michael. I'm Chloephina... Chloe for short. It's very nice to meet you."[/i] [b]She bowed her head formally and set down the menu, scanning over the various words before looking back up at him.[/b] [i]"You can read this stuff...?"[/i]
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"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Chloe." [i]Drake squinted down at the menu, trying his best to appear confident. He could make our most of the words--at least, those that he recognized from home--but hopefully she wouldn't call his bluff on something that he didn't know. He fixed her with a charming grin, before he turned back to the menu,[/i] "Err, more or less. What kind of food were you in the mood for?" [i]His crimson jacket didn't shine in the light like you'd expect it to, but it still flapped around in a phantom wind. Beneath that he wore casual space-jockey clothing: a white shirt with tight-ish grey pants, fixed with a strange insignia on his chest. He had something strapped to his waist and chest, like a bandoleer, but considering the amount of fighters in the Dojo, it wouldn't surprise you if he was armed. [/i]
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[i]"Oh! It's food? I see... I guess anything."[/i] [b]She looked at the menu once more, wishing she had an actual translator, but she was thankful for Michael. He seemed kind...[/b] [i]"What do they have...?"[/i] [b]She asked, her voice becoming more lyrical as she spoke. It had a gentleness, a kind of, soothing tone to it. It wasn't really on purpose either. But the likelihood was that she was a good singer.[/b]
