(Untitled)

[til_it_aint]

So if Ben's lookin' a little more relaxed then he has, maybe it's a good thing. 'Cause see, this time he ain't spendin' all his free time lookin' for a door that ain't there, 'caue the door, well, it is there. And okay, so, maybe he should want to leave if it's right there but truth is it don't open on nothing he wants to go back to. Just dust, 'n

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[southphillysob]

Dust? Dust would be a nice change-up, 'cause Bill, he's goddamn sick of England and it ain't even been that long. All rain and mud and limeys, goddamn. What he wouldn't give for a good hot bath. But the door showed up in between maneuvers, and Easy's sure as hell gonna notice if he suddenly shows up all spick and span.

He just needs a coffee. This place got staff. They can handle the mud in his boots. The clientele, apparently, has other ideas. Who taught this yokel manners anyway?

Bill gives the kid a look. "You lookin' at somethin', pal?"

[til_it_aint]

Ben gives him a look back, ain't gonna hide that he was starin' 'cause hey it's never gonna get old, seein' people walk into through a door that sure as hell weren't there a minute ago.

Shrugs, takes a long drag, says "Y'got a problem if I am?" His voice is all rough uncultured Illinois drawl, not hostile but not friendly neither.

[southphillysob]

Bill snorts. "Don't make no difference, I can't sock you where you deserve for it. This place don't let you have any kind of fun."

Well. That ain't strictly true. He knows firsthand how the broads can get. It's no London, but it's no Toccoa either.

He keeps on giving this kid the fish-eye. Bill's a city kid, Italian South Philly all the way. He knows guys like him, though: there's a little Alton More in that response. "Where'd you come from?"

[til_it_aint]

"Heard 'bout that," Ben says, shrugs a little, he don't mind so much but then maybe he just ain't met someone yet he'd like to hit.

He doesn't smile when the other guy asks him but there's a bit of a twist to his mouth 'cause he ain't met someone speaks like him yet and maybe this little bit'a normality has him on firmer ground.

"Oklahoma," he says after a moment. "Near Milfay." The crumpled pack of smokes gets pushed forwards, just a bit.

[ooc: this is where the mun misses her 'edit post' capabilities and would like to say that he is in fact from OK, not Illinois.]

[jane_becomes]

(OOC: I might not have the brain for her for too long, but I do adore Ben and I figured he wouldn't like to be Demetered at.)

Jane has been avoiding the Bar to be quite honest but her idea is good and she wants to write and home is busy.

So she has found a booth not too far from Ben's and is writing with a great amount of concentration and hasn't realized that she is about to run out of ink.

[til_it_aint]

[ooc: no worries hon! I'm waiting to hear back from someone on whether or not I have to be up in the wee hours anyway, so I might not be here long either.]

After a while, maybe a couple smokes later, Ben's gaze wanders over to the girl. She's writin', looks pretty into it and he can't help but make a face. Never saw the appeal, figures even if he could write worth a damn what's the point? Can say things just as easy out loud.

Still, she's gettin' watched.

[jane_becomes]

She stops and stares with quite a lot of feeling at her paper and says to no one in particular,

"I refuse to believe that a vampire or phantom made me feel that."

[til_it_aint]

Okay now the watchin' is pretty hard because - well, Ben thinks maybe he heard wrong but just in case he didn't he leans back in his booth like he's scootchin' away from her.

Under his breath (but louder then he thinks), "Vampires?"