Get out of my bar

Lindia wasn’t Irish, she wasn’t even from the UK, but she had to hand it to them, they served great food and alcohol. She sat on one of the high barstools, drinking from her bottle of beer, already having finished two others though the alcohol had not taken effect. Maybe that was one of the few good things about her abusive childhood… She didn’t even know why she had walked into O’Malley’s pub out of all the joints she could have hit up while she and her girlfriend were visiting New York. Of course, Laure had three dates in one night which left Lindia to try to get one for herself, though she wasn’t in the mood for a quickie heartbreak. So, after Laure had departed, Lindia had also left…only to enjoy a drink or two.

The pub was quiet tonight, only about three other people besides her and the ol’bartender...and two of them were already drunkwhile the last one quietly knocked some billard balls around. Yes, nice and quiet for now, the way Lindia preferred when all she wanted was to enjoy the alcohol. She had refused to do her hair, so it hung down on her chest, a little down her back…the dirty blonde seemingly darker in the dim light of the bar. Remnants of her red streak were still present, although it was faded. She had decided not to dress up, and just wore what she felt like.

She wore a black tank top, her leather jacket lying on the back of the barstool. Her tattoo on her left shoulder was covered however, thanks to the expert makeup work of Laure. She crossed her delicate legs, asking now for a round of scotch, wishing to savor something stronger. Denim shorts encased her thighs, while black net leggings showed from the denim to her dark converse sneakers. A black leather cuff encircled the child of trivia’s wrist, the material crisscrossing in an interesting pattern. She set her blue eyes on the shots and nodded to the bartender before taking a glass into her hand and swallowing the contents with ease. As she reached for the second shot she heard the door of the pub open and glanced over her shoulder.

The door slammed open as Chiara kicked it violently. Her angry green eyes scanned the bar as she walked in, wearing a pair of olive camo trousers with a wallet chain and a black T-shirt of the Chicago bulls along with combat boots and a leather jacket. Her red curls were blazing around her head as she marched forward and took a seat at the bar, the knives she had at her belt clearly visible.

She ordered a strong beer in an angry voice and checked her Blackberry as she waited.
The girl next to her, a tall one with dirty blonde hair, looked at her and Chiara glared back.

"What is it, bitch?" she asked.

Lindia raised an eyebrow, looking over the new girl very carefully before taking another shot down her throat, enjoying the taste of te scotch briefly. "Oh, you talking to me?" She mused and glanced back at her, still holding the empty glass. "If you are, maybe you should be asking yourself that bitch"

She smirked, messing around with the keychain on her waist, glancing at the knives and the possible other weapons in her pockets....if a fight broke out, Lindia would have to be quick and precise.

"Well that was the worst comeback I ever heard, Barbie," Chiara sneered. "Who've ya been training with, third-graders? Would explain your soft alcohol taste," she said as she ordered a Bloody Mary, having finished her beer.

The Bloody Mary was garnished with olives, as was Chiara's favorite, and she took a sip. Strong, delicious, it made her throat shiver with relish.

Lindia chuckled "oh, so that's what you Yorkers do when your all alone with no. Real. Life." She called across the bar for a kick up in her alcohol. Lindia was here first, so technically it was her place, unless Chiara had a claim stronger than her own.

"So, how's it feel to be let out of hell because your too ugly?. " Lindia asked with a devious smirk.

"I'm no Yorker bitch," Chiara spat, taking a mouthful of her Bloody Mary cocktail. Then Lindia made her 'comeback' and Chiara laughed out loud. "Dammit, you serious? I did those jokes when I was twelve!" She snickered, remembering her childhood in Corsica, when she insulted the teachers with Thiago, her cousin, and their other pals: Rashid, Miguel, Carlu, Rafael...

"Well well, aren't we special then. " she rolled her eyes and drained the fresh selection of shots with ease. "Why are yah in my bar anyways?" She raised an eyebrow when she asked, her natural Detroit accent confront through .

"Your bar? Can you stop acting like a five-years-old for five seconds?" Chiara asked. "This is a bar, everybody can come in it! Dammit...!"

She drank two mouthful of her Bloody Mary, the alcohol starting to make her angry and combative,though she could control herself.

Lindia raised an eyebrow. "Everyone?" She chuckled a little bit and looked at her. "Tell me then, bitch....why would we allow everyone in?" She paused for a moment to enjoy another shot.

"I'm certain that you don't mean everybody, and instead perhaps s a smaller population of the human race?"

"You allow everyone in. The barman needs money, he won't keep people out. Are you actually dumber than you look?" she asked. "And don't try to be intellectual, it doesn't you."

She swallowed some more of her Bloody Mary, eating an olive as she played with her knives.

OOC: Also, found the perfectly fitting Lindia gif: https://31.media.tumblr.com/5e5759f02351988ed346935ff1ea8521/tumblr_n0fxjbxKcw1so7bjlo1_500.gif

Lindia smiled "so you would let a mere child into the bar for a drink? That's very kind, wanting to allow five year olds to have vodka" She smirked and signaled the barman over, briefly engaging in her next drink.

"Nice knives" Lindia stated as she rubbed her keychain, feeling it expand to her sword and sheath on her side. Now, she had herself armed and ready.

"What you complaining about, the way you look it seems you started drinking when you were four," Chiara grunted and swallowed two mouthfuls of her cocktail. Her glass was half empty now.

Chiara looked at her keychain expand into a sword.

"You're a demigod?" she asks.

Lindia didn't know if she had a lucky guess, or f she actually had information about her, but she was right. Ever since she was four she had been force fed alcohol by her father. "Oh, I suppose nothing" she smirked and watched the barman make her drink.

The other three guys that were in the bar faded to one, just the guy by the bu bollards."yes, indeed I am" Lindia said in a whisper. "And so are you, aren't I right?" She could remember this girls discriprion from a dream message with her half sister.

"Sure I am," Chiara grunted. "Or why do you think I have three celestial bronze throwing knives, a bow, quiver, and a sword about me, huh?"

She finished another quarter of her cocktail.

"No need to show off just how macho you are, Chiara" she took a risk with a name, curious to see what would happen when such a thing occurred. "She wasnt as armed at shifts...but she was skilled, her training had made sure of that.

She couldn't help but smile at the other girl. "Once your done with your bloody, maybe a little shot contest?"