EP | Kate Barlow | Main Bar

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate comes inside from checking on the stock one last time. There's been some... interesting activity outside over the last few months, not limited to the birth of a two-headed cow (who is, in the very strangest way, cute as a button), but all-in-all things continue as 'normal

Comments

[mogget_cat]

"That shade of red really isn't your best color, I want you to know," says the green-eyed monster albino at the bar.

[ikissdhimbck]

She fixes him with too-blue eyes, a wry smile pulling at her lips.

"I should have you as my fashion coordinator, then."

Her grin broadens.

"S'not the best dinner attire, I reckon."

[mogget_cat]

"Well, it's the kind of color that usually goes better on others, than on oneself," he shrugs, smiling wryly. "And even then, it's not that great. Whoever suggested that it might look good on you, well, they need to look for a different career."

Because he's all over the veiled looming threat department when it comes to people getting his friends to wear that color.

[ikissdhimbck]

Her expression turns equally wry, touched with more gratitude for the thought than amusement.

"Assumin' they'll have the ability t'look for another career."

And Kate is all over the veiled comments on violence. They should go on the road with this act.

"Sit with me a spell?"

[mogget_cat]

"Something not needing the use of working hands, perhaps."

They really should.

"Of course. I'd love to," he says, smiling, getting up to join her.

[ikissdhimbck]

She chortles quietly, taking a sip from her whiskey glass.

"I'm not so cruel as t'leave a man livin' without the means to garner wages. Not out in Texas."

There's not much work you can do if you don't have hands for it.

"But I don't think you'll hafta worry much on him. Leastways, I hope not."

[mogget_cat]

She's not that cruel. "I always felt that was the point."

He is, when it comes to the safety and well-being of his friends.

[ikissdhimbck]

She looks at him sidelong, maybe not as surprised as she should be.

"Don't tell me those gentle musician's hands have ever caused bloodshed?"

[mogget_cat]

"All right, I won't tell you so," he says, diplomatically, after a moment of consideration. "But just because you asked."

[ikissdhimbck]

She looks at him flatly.

"Such a gentleman."

[mogget_cat]

"Such a lady," he says, bowing slightly. "I figured you would know better than to judge by appearances."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Who said I was judgin' by appearances?"

She grins, touching the back of his hand.

"A cultured palate; graceful dancer; beautiful musician; with a tongue just as sharp as a sickle? Y'don't strike me as a pugilist."

[mogget_cat]

His hand turns to take hers and gently lift it. "The gentleness and grace of one's hands hardly makes them incapable of violence."

Please excuse him of placing that light kiss on her knuckles. "That said, I do not do so for sport."

Not often, anyways.

Less often than he has in the past, at least.

...Let's just leave it at that.

[ikissdhimbck]

She arches her eyebrows, but is otherwise unbothered by the gesture. She even smiles.

"Touché."

She once had beautiful hands. Soft, well-manicured, scented ever-so-slightly with peaches and spices.

"I don't know much 'bout your world, I realize."

[mogget_cat]

"That is likely because I do not speak of it much," he answers, smiling slightly as he releases her hand. "I have few thoughts of it that are not unhappy memories, and have long since made the bar my home."

[ikissdhimbck]

"I'm sorry."

She looks utterly sincere in the sentiment.

"I didn't realize."