Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 15:39:39 GMT -6
Procrastination plagued Blaire like it always had. She spent every second day sure that college life wasn't for her given the workload and the simple fact that caring about readings and papers was practically impossible. It wasn't the weekend, so it wasn't busy at all where she found herself, and that was nice. In moments like these, she had grown used to standing on her own elbow to elbow with complete strangers, and as such the change of pace was nice.
Heels and a nice enough dress gave her the usual edge, and a slightly eager expression must have pointed out that she was interested in ordering. But when a hot blonde approached her from the other side of the bar, she dropped her jaw to speak like a drink order would just happen. Except nothing managed to pierce the air between them. It was like she forgot why she was there or what she had been chasing; how unfair was that? When she tried to force it, all she gave was the ability to exhale a quick laugh.
“I'm sorry,” She tried lightly, her British accent cutting her vowels as she did her best to remain somewhat poised, “I forgot.”
And with a precise wave of her hand - plus an apologetic smile, no less - she indicated that she could leave if she wanted.
Last Edit: Feb 8, 2016 15:40:04 GMT -6 by Blaire Montoya
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 16:47:13 GMT -6
It was a normal Monday evening - as normal as a day working in the bar could get, anyways. Emma had made sure her entire week was filled with shifts; she had to earn monney somehow. Sometimes she wondered if life would have been easier had she been one of those privileged brats she often saw roaming about. Then again, she was glad that she wasn't, because in some ways, she got to experience life a way they never would. And she also got to appreciate it more.
A new customer, a pretty brunette stepped towards the bar and Emma walked forward, pressing the palms of her hands against the edge of the counter and leaned forward. "What can I get you?" she asked. The brunette didn't respond and instead, she simply sat there with her mouth open. Raising her eyebrows expectantly, Emma wondered briefly if perhaps the girl didn't talk.
"You forgot, eh?" she mused and jerked her thumb over her shoulder, gesturing towards the bar. "Well, I could always fix you one of my own favorites - unless you want some time to think?"
She didn't mind the somewhat awkward nature of the girl. In many ways, Emma actually enjoyed it. It was so much different than what she was used to.
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 17:10:00 GMT -6
There were incredible tell tale signs of confidence here. Blaire could see the nature of the way she leaned inward from the second she was standing in front of her. Of course, she was working. She probably dealt with people shouting orders at her countlessly and managed it like a dream. By proxy, Blaire couldn't even remember one.
She nearly laughed at the notion of time. If nothing else, the statement made her smile grow slightly. Uncontrollably, "I'm not sure time would help too much." She admitted then, well aware how much of it she could take.
"Show me your favourite." Blaire offered with a small tilt of her head, "I could use the help." Because even the smallest decision could be so much easier when placed on someone else's shoulders. And besides, it was easier to stare at another person when they were busy. She could and would let careful eyes wander while she was sure she wasn't being looked at.
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 17:17:53 GMT -6
The girl was sweet. That much didn't pass Emma by; She supposed it came natural when working at a place such as this. You learned to read people. Maybe not their entire life story, but you caught onto subtle hints - whether you were meant to or not.
"Alright, one sour green coming right up, babe," she said with a smile as she turned to mix the drink together. It had been one of her favorites for as long as she could remember. She'd never been much for sweet tasting drinks, because they usually made you feel nauseous when having too many, whereas something a little more bitter and sour helped you last a little longer.
Not that she honestly thought the girl was here to get wasted.
Once the drink was mixed together, she placed it on the table in front of the brunette with a proud smile. "Let me know what you think."
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 17:39:26 GMT -6
Blaire watched in silence. It wasn't like she couldn't think of anything that say, but she wasn't sure that she really should have talked at all. A job was a job and for the most part she had to figure that small talk was destined to be forced because it was part of the job.
Her gaze flicked back upwards the second she was spoken to, catching her face briefly before she looked down to the bar between them instead. Drawing the glass to her lips, she took a small, testing sip of the drink before her. Even she couldn't help the subtle way her expression reacted to anything remotely sour.
She raised a hand quickly; "Ignore that, it's not bad." Blaire offered, instinctively. "It's good. You're very good." And the last thing she wanted to do was be offensive.
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 17:44:29 GMT -6
Emma noticed the change in the brunette's expression and couldn't quite help but smile. It was amusing, if nothing else. It wasn't as if she was about to be offended; after all, everyone liked different things and as a bartender she'd come to accept that.
"Well, I'll take the compliment even if you didn't like the drink," she replied with a smirk. "But don't worry, I didn't exactly invent the drink," she added with a shrug. "It's also on the house."
Still, there wasn't anyone else she needed to tend to for the moment, so she'd might as well offer the girl some conversation. "So, you new around here, or what?"
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 18:19:40 GMT -6
Blaire wasn't normally the type to worry over being offensive - at least, not intensely enough to jump at the thought - but this all felt different. It wasn't so normal to catch the remote attention from anyone who looked like this. The second she was told she didn't need to pay, she wanted to protest the fact. But she lost the chance as the conversation rolled right by her ability to give any kind of response.
New? She nearly laughed again, because she could see how that was an easy connection. At first, she shook her head. "Not exactly, no. I went to school here for a little bit, a little while ago." Long enough to give her the ability to be old enough to stand here without the need for identification living in her hand. "But I moved back recently." So yes, in some way, she was right.
"What's your name?" Blaire asked then, curiosity colouring her question.
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 18:25:54 GMT -6
Nodding at that, the blonde chewed on the inside of her lips; she supposed she should have figured. Now, she wasn't going to jump to the conclusion of thinking that this girl was in fact, a mutant, but it seemed rather plausible, did it not? Who else came to Kalispell for school? "I can't see the charm," she chuckled. "But I guess I have no room to talk, huh?" she chuckled softly. She was here too, after all.
"Emma." At that, she even slid her hand over the counter to properly introduce herself. "Emma Delacroix."
She'd always fancied people with accents. Despite being from a French Canadian area, it wasn't really apparent. At least, that's what she thought.
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 18:36:27 GMT -6
Catching her name, Blaire thought for whatever reason that she should keep hold of it. So much so that she didn't initially think to respond to the notion get living in Kalispell. It was a big enough place now, despite its roots. Clever inklings of a fading accent held her attention.
"Blaire Montoya." She offered, though she hadn't been asked from it. If nothing else, it was the polite way to respond.
"And if you saw where I was from, you mightn't feel that way. Or, I should say, it would make a lot more sense." She added, doing her best to strip the negative way she could have spoken about her home town. It wasn't necessarily bad, but the way things differed was nice. "America in general is still pretty new to me."
Because there she was. On a Monday night. Completely on her own.
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 18:42:42 GMT -6
"Blaire," she repeated, as if tasting it for the first time and nodded, clearly pleased.
Once again, the blonde nodded. "Fair enough." She could understand that much. Or at least, she could somewhat relate to it - whatever it was. She had her fair share of... Well, bad experiences. It was one of the reasons she too, was here.
"Allow me then, unless you've already gotten one, offcially welcome you to the states." Not that she'd been here long herself, but hey, the girl seemed deserving of a warm welcome, even from a stranger.
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 18:54:15 GMT -6
"Thank you." Blaire replied, caught enough in the gracious way such a stranger would try to be so polite. Where the line was between working and investment was blurred. What was the point of staying after handing out a free drink on a dead enough night like this? She could only wish she had a better handle on people in general.
Quietly, she turned her attention towards her glass again. She took the time to take another sip, this time a little more prolonged. Accepting kindness where it was given was a given.
"There has to be a lot more to Kalispell than the college courses I'm trying to take." Blaire offered then, careful with what insight she gave out. It was easy information to pass away; at least it made her look like she knew what she was aiming for. "Why would you be here if you don't like it? Or is that too forward a question."
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 19:01:17 GMT -6
"That's what we're all hoping for though, isn't it?" she asked. Shaking her head no, the blonde chuckled softly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and made herself a little more comfortable. "I'm afraid my answer is going to make me seem..." she paused, trying to find the right words. She gave up though. She saw little point in sugarcoating herself.
"I'm here in hopes of using the recognition the town has gotten for my advantage." She looked at the girl, searching for any signs of - she wasn't sure exactly what she was hoping to see, or what she didn't. She felt the need to explain though. "I've always been interested in sports, but stereotypes will always be a thing and my family couldn't afford sending me to out of school sessions, so."
So, here she was, in the most famous city of mutants in America, hoping to make a name for herself. Following the never ending American dream. She felt silly for even thinking it - and a bit naive.
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 19:15:44 GMT -6
Defined interest coloured Blaire's eyes as she actually seemed to get somewhere. Tell smallest of laughs caught her ears and dragged a natural smile to her own mouth. Why, she didn't know. Perhaps she simply found the sound alone endearing.
Details were given and Blaire did her absolute best to follow. It wasn't all that hard; it was like having thoughts mapped out in real time through lingering sentences that had no total end. What she could denote from it was that she was clever. Possibly bold, too, if she moved from wherever on a whim in the hopes that following dreams would ever be probable.
"You know what you want, Emma." She declared, using the name so newly given like she really wanted to try it out. See how it sounded. "You're already leaps and bounds ahead of me."
Pausing, she pressed her lips together in a spare moment, "That... Was supposed to be comforting, not sad. Did it work?" She asked genuinely, despite how easily sarcasm could have coloured the question.
Post by Emma Delacroix on Feb 8, 2016 19:22:09 GMT -6
Surprise colored the blonde's eyes at the sudden and bold statement. The girl that had before approached Emma with such cautious means had now taken the turn and become bold. At least, that's what it sounded like in Emma's ears. Rubbing the back of her neck, the blonde smiled sheepishly. "Well, I am working at a bar," she offered with a light shrug.
"Mmm," she began, pursing her lips as she considered the question. "Sad, no," she continued, a light shake to her head. "Amusing, if anything." She wasn't exactly the kind of person you looked at and thought 'she's got it all figured out', because she was miles away.
Post by Blaire Montoya on Feb 8, 2016 19:45:01 GMT -6
Appreciation was practically surprising for Blaire, too. She found herself often trying to take backwards steps, and those steps just really turned into obvious, quick-shot rambling. She wanted to be clear, if nothing else, but that wasn't always easy. She had to laugh shortly at her own amusement, or evidently, hers.
"I mean, at least you earn money." She continued on, indicating towards her with a simple wave of her hand.
"I'm very busy building up how much I owe." Of course, scholarships helped given the immaculate way her grades had looked and the easily compelling essay she had written when she applied. "So, try not to let working in a bar be something you twist negatively. Like I said, you're good at it."