(Untitled)

[implausibility]

Who: Triela (snuffdoll), Adachi (implausibility)
When: Evening, August 27
Where: One of the local bars.
Summary: Apple juice - on the rocks. Oh yeah.
Warnings: None.

Comments

[snuffdoll]

Triela had come here before, and she would probably come here again. The first two times had been tense, with bartenders trying to dismiss her right off the bat - for good reason, sure, since she couldn't pass herself as a nineteen-year-old without some help. "I'm not here to drink," she'd insisted, "I'm not here to meet anyone. Geeze, just answer my questions, all right?"

She was a little charmer and had ended up coming here a good few times in order to get information on whichever job she was taking. Some of the adults had been properly impressed. They'd give her dishes of peanuts and chocolate mints and she's tease them about their lack of teas. Regardless, there was always--

"You really shouldn't hang around a place like this so much, little missy." The other bartender was saying as much right at that time. "I know you think you're the type for trouble, but a little thing like you can't handle everything." He was fetching a dish of cherries

[implausibility]

What caught his attention wasn't her size, or even the strangely young pitch of her voice (it was easy to drown things out when you were fed up enough with your surroundings), it was the 'Mister.' That was unmistakably out-of-place in a bar like this, on a street like this, at an hour like this, and Adachi looked up, just as he caught the beer from sliding off the counter with one hand, a little bit of the froth spilling onto his fingers.

He canted his head, leaning around the rather large patron sitting beside him, until he could see the stranger's form a few seats away. "Did you get lost, kid?" Adachi asked, flicking the white bubbles off his fingers. The bartender looked up at him, gaze lingering as if really seeing him for once, and just as he opened his mouth, probably to ask him to mind his own business or to give that clipped, subtle warning of, 'Can I help you sir,' Adachi pulled out his wallet to pay him, badge and all.

He didn't say a thing.

[snuffdoll]

It wasn't an uncommon question to hear. It hadn't been even before this place, when she'd been out and about in Rome or Florence or wherever else during school hours. That didn't mean it wasn't a little irritating, though, and more exasperating than anything else. "No, sir," came her dry tone, and she turned to face the speaker.

What an impossibly straight necktie she wore.

"I'm not lost," she said, a little steely in contrast to the tenseness of the bartender, now that the badge was out; the few people who were in immediate range of this were growing uncomfortable, too. Triela was perhaps a little too collected for the situation at hand.

She eyed Adachi, raised her eyebrows, and then simply lifted a hand. "Hey."

WH-WHY THE WEAKPOINT WITH THE TIES, TRIELA

[implausibility]

Of course - just another poor bloke at the bar without a badge. Adachi would be lying if he said this was the first time this happened, and he'd be lying if he said this wasn't a definite perk of the job, but he was good at lying anyway, so why not?

Whatever smile was creeping up his face slid off as soon as he saw her face though. Wait a second, he knew that- "...You-" he said, epitome of eloquence and paragon of conversational excellence, eyes widening with surprise. Though Adachi was aware that anyone on the network lived somewhere in the city, and that even cities were only so big, he hadn't expected to bump into her here of all places.

He snapped his wallet shut, still looking mildly bewildered. "...Oh. Triela."