(Untitled)

[song_tra_bong]

It's getting damn close to midnight and Mary Anne is buzzed in a combination of excitement and alcohol.

Speaking of alcohol, there's plenty of wine left in the bottle at the table where she's sitting (or more acurately, sitting on). Company is very much encouraged.

[ooc: To all my lovely threaders--I must plead slowtime before I fall over

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[makes_it_rain]

She's being eyed with a sort of amused curiousity by a man sitting at the bar. "Is that comfortable?" he asks, head tilting slightly to one side as though to better inspect her position.

[song_tra_bong]

She grins.

"It is, actually. Of course, the wine's probably helping. Care for some?"

She does have a spare glass or two.

[makes_it_rain]

"Sure you have enough?" Maes asks with a teasing lift of his eyebrows. The cards spin into one hand, and he secrets them away into one of his pockets as he rises to make his way over. "What's the occasion?"

[song_tra_bong]

"I have plenty," she says, pouring him a drink.

"And it's New Year's Eve, a time of drinking and general merry-making."

[makes_it_rain]

"Is it?" Maes asks, mildly bemused. "It was only just summer." Something dark shifts beneath the humour, then is submerged. "Well, then. A happy New Year to you, and may there be many more."

[song_tra_bong]

"It may still be, outside," she counters.

"But time runs funny in here." She raises her glass. "Happy New Year to you, sir."

[makes_it_rain]

That odd expression is back again, and gone just as quickly. "I doubt it - time just got away from me." He takes up the glass she'd poured him, raising it between two fingers to mirror the toast. "I doubt we're from the same place, but I have to ask. What year is it going to be for you?"

[song_tra_bong]

She frowns, thinking.

"Oh lord, let's see...It'll be 1973. How about you?"

[makes_it_rain]

"1914, if it were New Years Day in Amestris." He does not hesitate before answering.

[song_tra_bong]

"Amestris?"

She tilts her head. "Can't say I've heard of it; guess we really aren't from the same place...What's it like there?"

[makes_it_rain]

"It's home," Maes replies simply, though there is a wealth of sentiment in those two words - joy, sorrow, longing, loss. He takes a sip of wine, pausing a moment. "It has its problems, but it's a lovely country."

[song_tra_bong]

She raises her glass.

"I know the feeling."

[makes_it_rain]

"Most do, I think." A faintly wry smile, as he sips his drink. "The place we are from never truly leaves us."

[song_tra_bong]

"Amen," she murmurs.

"'S the best way, I think."

[makes_it_rain]

"Where are you from?" He asks. It serves a dual purpose - he is curious, and he wishes to turn the conversation away from melancholy topics.

[song_tra_bong]

"A little bit of all over," she admits.

"I'm living here most of the time, but for four years before that home was a place called Vietnam. It's jungle and warzone mostly, but I loved it there. Now, when I'm not here...I've got a place by the ocean. It's a lot quieter there, but I think I could get used to it."