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Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 10, 2010 10:51:48 GMT -5
Just like I promised, here's the pub!
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Out on one of her strolls, Ivanka walked on the cobblestone streets of the Marketplace. She was still a bit new here and she didn't know any of the stores here, and all she wanted to find for now was a bar or pub. Looking around at the marketplace, nothing was barely open at this hour. The moon was full that night, though the air was not as cold as other nights. Earlier today, she had gotten into a fight and won a bit of money for beating them all up into a pulp. And now that she had money, she was going to have a couple drinks.
After wandering a few corners and blocks, some singing and music came to her ears. It wasn't the most pleasant one you heard seeming as most most of the people singing sound drunk. But, that didn't bother Ivanka. Knowing that where there are drunk people, then there would be a bar, with alcohol, and of course, more singing! Not as if Ivanka would join the singing but, you know, free entertainment. She followed the deafening sounds and the stinky smell of alcohol into a small pub in the corner. It didn't seems as if it was known. There were only a little people in it and it didn't seem like a pub at all. Only the small stack of drunk and bloodied bodies gave it away. Ivanka didn't mind. All she wanted was just the alcohol and the drinks. It would be free if she could get away with it. As she walked in, she received a greeting from one of the 'bouncers' at the entrance. She got used to being called 'sir'. Of course, with her looks and structure, no one would give a first guess that she was a girl.
She walked through the table where there were men who were sleeping after being drunk. She was tempted to call each and one of them 'Drunky' then enumerate them. Some of them were even drooling which was a total 'eeew' to her. She walked up to the farthest part where there was a bar with stools in front. She sat on one of the, stools, twirled around in it and put her elbows on the table. "Hey! Give me one shot of of that Gin!" she pointed to the one that had 75% alcohol on the label. Once the drink slid into her hands, the smell was undeniably alcohol. She took the shot then slammed the glass onto the table. Ivanka then suddenly felt a presence sit beside her.
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Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
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Post by Diran Parisyan on Apr 10, 2010 16:48:48 GMT -5
Diran wandered around the marketplace, which was always more interesting late in the day. Sure, most of the people had gone home, but the interesting things could be called out of the cobbles after the sun had set. Whipping out his flute, he played a few bars of the same song he had played on his first night in this town, and half-danced down the streets. The Armenian Pied Piper, he mused to himself. Except he was not calling for rats or children, but people, to gather around him.
Hearing loud drunken voices in the distance, he put the instrument away and proceeded with caution. If there was a pub nearby, he didn't want to annoy any of the drunk people inside, who would no doubt be much bigger than him. It wasn't that he was incapable of defending himself against them if that was the case, but he didn't really want to get into a fight. And if it was a pub, he felt he could do with a drink. Turns out it was a pub, and a rather seedy one at that. Sliding in, past the 'bouncer' who greeted him with a slightly typical 'kind of late out for a lady like yourself' comment. Diran growled at him, flapping his vest in an affronted manner. He may have had narrow shoulders, but anyone with half a brain should have been able to tell that he was not a girl...
No barmaids, he realized with a sigh. That would mean he'd have to fish deep into his satchel for a few coins and buy his own drink. At least he wouldn't be building up a heavy tab right away, as he'd done in so many other places- what could he say, he liked to drink. There was a bar with stools, and a young man- woman- person... a young person who was also taller than him (honestly, were there any people of his height in this town?) and was ordering a drink. He unceromoniously plopped down on the stool next to her, assuming that she was a girl, despite all evidence to the contrary.
His eyes widened slightly when he saw the alcohol content of the gin she had just tossed back. "Christ, I've never met a girl who drinks like that! My name is Diran, and you are?" He offered a hand for Ivanka to shake, face expressionless and eyebrows raised high.
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Post by Anica Popescu on Apr 10, 2010 19:00:53 GMT -5
The last remains of sunbeams groped the sky, turning the vast expanse a gorgeous shade of pink-peach-orange. As pretty as the sky was, Anica was much more interested in the sound of money actually being in her money satchel. The sound of several coins hitting each other sounded like music to her ears, especially after the short period of time where she barely had enough money to buy anything and work was slow. Lady Luck seemed to smiled fondly down at the Romanian, since she had just won big at a street-side game of chance,
"Pleasure doing business with you all~" Anica called back to the losers in a sing-song tone as she walked away and through the marketplace streets, steadily becoming less lively so close to evening. No... where to go? The Romanian licked her lips, the craving for some sort of alcohol once again rearing its ugly head. How long had it been since she had the pleasure of having Ţuică or Vodcă? Or better yet, Pălincă? Anica licked her lips again, like she was trying to reclaim the fruity taste from her lips from her memory of the drinks alone.
As if answering her own desire, her legs led her to the entrance of a pub. She grinned widely and stepped inside, ignoring the typical greeting of the bouncer by the door; did anyone listen to bouncer's greetings? She walked past the horde of drunks at the surrounding tables, trying her very hardest to ignore the wolf whistles and drunken and pathetic attempts at flirting with her. She just got here, no use in getting thrown out before she even had something to drink.
Anica's attempts proved to the futile as she felt a hand grope her behind. She growled and whipped around, socking the poor man right in the jaw, just to get that shit-eating grin off of his face. Either the man was knocked out or it was taking his drunken mind a few moments to realize he had just been hit fairly hard in the face, either way he offered her nothing more then a drunk-sounding gurgle. The Romanian shook her hand, trying to get rid of the slight sting, as she continued walked towards the furthest part of the bar, glaring at anyone who she spotted eying her like she was something to eat. (Having red eyes did have its advantages, it creeped most people out.) Anica sat down on one of the stools and banged her hand on the table to get a bar tender's attention,
"You guys got Pălincă in this dump? Ţuică maybe?" The bartender she had gotten the attention of looked at her questionably, which meant 'No we don't what the heck is that' in most cases. Anica groaned and put her face in her hand, typical. "Rum then. You at least have that don't you?" The bartender responded in the positive before rushing off to get her order. Beside her, there was a statement of praise about a girl who apparently could drink fairly well. Curious, Anica turned her head towards the two,
'Girl? Seriously? She thought, although she could only see the profile of the one receiving praise, the one giving it seemed much more of a girl.
"Gender confused, much?" She mused to herself, her drink was slid down to her, and Anica have a mock salute in appreciation before taking a drink. It wasn't nearly as good as what she wanted, but it would do.
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Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 10, 2010 23:03:23 GMT -5
Receiving praises from the person who sat beside her, Ivanka glanced at the person beside her. It was a man, who in fact, was a bit shorter than her. He had stated about never meeting a girl who could drink that much. Ivanka chuckled at that thought. No one would ever give a first damned guess that she was a girl. But this one made that guess a particularly clever one. Though there was something about him that made her chuckle even more. The feeling that she was the guy and he was the girl in this conversation. Still chuckling a bit, the heat of the alcohol still clenching on her throat, Ivanka decided to keep that to herself. She didn't want to offend anyone now does she? Especially her newly found friend.
"Well then! Pretty clever guess you made there!" Ivanka told him turning her attention to the bartender who was serving up another drink to the person beside her. Pretty she was, and a tad bit cute. And from the looks of it, she knew how to fight. "No one would ever give a damn to my gender now. I just like to leave them confused and bewildered. GIMME TWO MORE FOR ME AND MY FRIEND HERE!" she yelled out the last line towards the bartender who suddenly seemed startled by the sudden uproar of her voice, motioning her hand for two more shots. Man did she love alcohol!!
"Well then Diran, pleased to meet you then! A fellow drinker will always a friend of mine!!" she patted him on the back then twirled in her chair to face the other person sitting next to her. "So, mind telling us your name pretty lady?" she asked in a bit of a flirting tone. Of course, being in a place like this where only one person was abel to guess her gender, no one would be suspicious.
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Post by Anica Popescu on Apr 14, 2010 14:33:34 GMT -5
Anica could already feel the alcohol’s affect take hold of her mind, and through the bleariness of her thought process, she wondered if ordering rum right from the get-go was a good idea. And apparently, the guy next to her was actually a girl; go figure.
“No one would ever give a damn to my gender now. I just like to leave them confused and bewildered.” The girl next to her said,
“Ya don’t say…?” Anica asked herself, taking another swig of her drink,
“GIMME TWO MORE FOR ME AND MY FRIEND HERE!" Anica winced at the rather loud demand for more alcohol and rubbed her forehead with one hand. Damn her low alcohol tolerance. Damn it to hell and back. The Romanian blinked at the poorly hidden, (if it was intended to be hidden at all) attempt at flirting and ran a hand through her hair, removing her beret and placing it on the counter,
“Isn’t it common courtesy to introduce yourself first before demanding someone for their name?” Anica asked, taking a final gulp of her rum before setting the glass on the table, “Whatever, courtesy would be wasted anyway. Name’s Anica.” She responded Anica probably wasn’t even going to remember their meeting anyway; what was the harm in a new temporary drinking mate?
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Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
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Post by Diran Parisyan on Apr 14, 2010 19:43:38 GMT -5
Diran smiled and nodded to Ivanka, glad that he had guessed correctly. And she hadn't even commented on the fact that he was more feminine-looking than she was- a fact which he was loath to admit even to himself. Ahh, and then she ordered a drink for him as well, and he smirked, unable to control his extreme self-satisfaction. He hadn't even gotten a chance to chat anyone up and he was having drinks bought for him! This must have been his lucky night.
"Ahh, well, any friend of the bottle is a friend of my own." He gave his usual tip of the head, his informal sort of bow. Maybe if he continued to be nice to Ivanka, she would continue to buy him drinks. Then his eyes flickered over to the Romanian, and she seemed somehow familiar. That voice was one he recognized- perhaps he had heard it in the market? Or was she from out of town?
"Pardon my asking, miss," he cut in after she had set down her glass, "but do you know if we've met before? I can't help but think that we had some sort of recent encounter, yes?" He let his eyes bore into hers for a moment, expression absent from his face. Removing his gaze, he picked up and tossed back his shot, reminding himself not to do anything particularly stupid once he was drunk.
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Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on Apr 15, 2010 1:00:48 GMT -5
"Ah! Hahaha! Pardon me! The name's Ivanka; Ivanka von Kraginskaya. You two better remember that!" Ivanka spanked them both hard on the back. Picking up the glass and taking a clear look at the liquid that filled it, she threw her head back and drank the shot. The heat of the alcohol was starting to clench her throat. Well, her tolerance for alcohol was a gift. So the girl's name was Anica. Cute name. The Slovak ran her hand through her born hair. She scanned the bar looking for another drink she could try. Maybe something like a vodka or a tequila. Her little Armenian friend seemed to be pleased that she had bought him a drink.
"You know you two, I have a feeling that we will meet each other again soon!" Ivanka told them. She snapped her fingers alerting the bartender. Motioning herself for another shot, she pointed to a bottle with a little less percentage. She'll have something light. Diran had asked Anica something. Though, Ivanka didn't mind. Maybe they were a couple that had spent some time together when they were drunk. Ivanka just caught the shot that was slid into her hand. A nice shot of vodka.
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Post by Anica Popescu on Apr 16, 2010 20:48:05 GMT -5
Anica blinked once and looked towards the smaller man who had addressed her,
"Have we met...?" Anica parroted, running a finger around the rim of the glass slowly. Like that action would help clear the fog already in her mind, as she looked at him, she noted his lack of expression. It was like looking at living marble, she didn't have time to really have time to come up with an assumption before he turned away and gulped his drink down. The Romanian looked at her own glass, picking up a nearby mixing straw and playing with the ice.
"Don't think so." she said after a moment of thinking. Although, the rational part of her mind piped up, his voice and accent did sound familiar to her somehow... she shook her head and mentioned for another glass of rum. If he did meet her once before, he didn't seem very enthusiastic to see her. Unless they had met on bad terms, then she didn't blame him.
Anica shrugged and nodded in thanks at the bartender before gulping down a mouthful of the drink. Not even a few seconds later she had her head on the counter, a drunk flush spreading over her cheeks. One hand ran through her hair as she giggled lightly. At what She had no clue. whatever it was, it was amusing enough to make her break out in a small giggle fit.
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Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
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Post by Diran Parisyan on Apr 18, 2010 23:52:10 GMT -5
"Ivanka von Kraginskaya? Sounds kind of Russian, yes?" The composure was slipping from his face as the alcohol took effect.
Diran knew that he had a low tolerance for alcohol. He also knew that he was one of those people imbued with the ability to know when he'd had too much to drink. Unfortunately he was one of those people who didn't know when to stop anything until it was too late; Diran knew when he'd had enough because that was the point at which he could stop drinking. Any time before that was unacceptable.
After one shot of the gin his head was reeling but he knew he could still handle another. Well, he thought he could still handle another, and he'd only get it with Ivanka's help. Then again, this all might have been a terrible idea, and he would have to wander aimlessly around the town until he found Antonio's house. Then again, any scenario that ended with him at Antonio's house couldn't possibly be a terrible idea, the less rational and slightly drunk side of him reasoned. The rational side was also slightly drunk, and agreed.
Waggling a finger at Anica, he steadied himself on the bar counter. "No no no... no, I do know you. We were definitely drunk, though." A small giggle escaped him almost as a response to hers. Apparently they had found the same non-existant thing to be amusing.
"Well, you two should tell me about yourselves. I'm curious to hear." Diran hopped up from his stool and sat on the counter, deafening himself to the bartenders protests.
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Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on May 9, 2010 20:45:06 GMT -5
[Sorry for the super late reply! Got drunk somewhere else!XD]
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The Armenian had decided to stay on the counter regardless of whatever efforts the people did to make him sit. Was he that much of a nuisance?? And this girl who had joined in their conversation earlier had declined that she knew him from somewhere. Being a newbie in town had its downs as well. The Armenian spoke earlier about her name being similar to Russian. Whatever it is now, all he wanted to hear was about them.
"Well, you really wanna hear about me?} Ivanka asked as motioned for another shot. How many shots had she taken so far? Well, it wasn't breaking her yet. She still had a long way to go before she was going to give up. Looking at the Armenian with her dark red eyes, the Slovak had a grin appeared on her face. Did he really want to know about the dark mysteries Ivanka harbored. Or was it did Ivanka just want to let them all out? She positioned relaxed a bit more. "Look, it's not that all fun games with what happened to me! My childhood was spent away from my family, my teenage years were a complete waste." Ivanka explained a little.
"But not to fret! Don't be so afraid just because I murdered my own mother! Ivanka laughed at the thought. Though deep inside, she remembered that very night. Coming home, then taking a stake/lance/javelin and brutally stabbing her mother cold dead. That was one memory she would kill to forget. Though sometimes the anger would be her motivation in going on with her little jobs. Now that she realized, maybe she didn't need to say that she murdered her own mother. Anywho, what could they do now? "So, what about you?" she asked either of the two.
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Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
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Post by Diran Parisyan on May 10, 2010 19:42:35 GMT -5
Diran stared at Ivanka for a moment after her, well, what was frankly a rather strange reply. He rolled his tongue against the roof of his mouth in the way people did when something left a bad taste there. Because that was certainly what Ivanka speaking of killing her own mother had done- it left a rotten taste there. It wasn't simply because he grew up Armenian, the culture of which was very respectful and proud, and in which insulting one's mother was deeply frowned upon. There was also something a bit... wrong about the girl. Her smile, her laugh could be described as nothing more than... wrong.
Trying to be polite, he returned her laugh awkwardly (Ah-hah... hah...) and tried to ignore the feeling of creepiness that she was giving him. To keep from slipping further into awkwardnes, he turned his attention to the shot glass, smiling at the way the tavern light filtered weakly through it. At this point the bartender seemed to have given up in his efforts to move the Armenian, for which he was very glad. Then Ivanka addressed him, and he was only too happy to begin talking again. Silence was not interesting.
"Ahh, me? I am simply a skilled young ranger who is passing through. Well... I mean, I will be passing through soon. If I am not... er, what I mean is... Nevermind that." He blushed a little, imagining his Spaniard asking him to stay for a longer while; ohh, if only...
"I came from a military village in what is probably Turkey," he scowled, "but I'd rather be thought of as a runaway Armenian bastard-child- which I am, coincidentally- than a Turk conceived from wedlock. My father was high up in the military, but I don't like to fight. So I ran away around 14. Been getting into trouble ever since, particularly after I discovered alcohol and the many, many ways of attaining it without paying. Oh, I've been all around the continent, picked up a handy skillset for my career, and eventually ended up here. In this bar."
He gestured around grandly with his delicate-looking, gloved hands, feeling tipsy and warm and in a dramatic mood. With a swift movement he had caught Anica's chin (gently) with one of them and tilted her face up into the light. His large and exaggerated eyebrows furrowed down in annoyance. She looked so familiar! Why couldn't he recall where he had seen that face before, heard that voice before? He didn't even stop to consider that the Romanian girl might be affronted by this.
She was pretty, if a little strange-looking; the eyes really got him and oh-my-god, she was taller than him. Shrugging as if to say 'Oh well' he released her and went back to scrutinizing the foggy shot glass and wondering if he should ask for another. It couldn't hurt. Especially if someone here would be kind enough to take him back to his current place of residence (not his home, mind you, because he was Diran Parisyan the Ranger, and he didn't have one) if he got really wasted.
"Your turn Anica," he decided all of a sudden, eyes lighting up. "Tell us about yourself."
(Ahh, that is quite alright Ivanka!)
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Post by Anica Popescu on May 11, 2010 21:10:39 GMT -5
"Aha-ha-ha," Anica laughed in a way that clearly meant she didn't find the casual way Ivanka told her story about killing her mother. "Wa-wait a minute. You murdered your own mother? Damn, you're fucked up guy... girl... whatever you are." She slurred, downing the remainder of her rum and finding, with a small amount of drunken amusement, how the world seem to tilt and swirl together, like someone had taken a paintbrush to wet paint and smeared. Suddenly came back into focus as Diran grabbed her chin, slightly off focus crimson eyes narrowed slightly. "Let go 'fore I hit you..." Whether it was because of her threat or because the Armenian just gave up trying to identify her, Anica really didn't care either way.
"You two wanna hear 'bout me?" She asked, the stool turning slightly under her weight and causing her to grab the counter for support. The Romanian licked her lips, still tasting the lingering taste of rum before speaking. "I'm not gonna tell you both 'bout mah life's story... I'm from Transylvania, my Tată was a stuck-up asshole who kicked me out of the house so I could learn 'responsibility'" Anica air-quoted, wobbling slightly before grabbing the counter again. "Seriously, you take advantage of the family's money and get treated like yer a leech." A small hiccup escaped her mouth before she continued. "My Mamă was a Gypsy, and a saint compared to my asshole Dad." She finished, turning back to the counter and burying her face in her hat. One hand raising to wave non nonchalantly,
"That's mah story, all yer gonna hear anyway. Not as screwed up as you two's but what'cha gonna do?" She slurred, half muffled by the black cloth.
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Post by Ivanka von Kraginskaya on May 11, 2010 22:31:40 GMT -5
"Yup. I killed my own mother with my damned hands." Ivanka told them. She looked at her own hands. These were the hands that made her who she was. She looked at how many lives she had taken with there. These were her tools. Though the two seemed to be surprised once they learned she killed her own mother. Doesn't anyone do that? Of course, to Ivanka it was something normal. Anica had her gender confuse once again. This made Ivanka slightly chuckle. "Let's just say... she was... hurting someone deeply... That's why I snapped and killed her. Don't tell me neither of you have done this?" Ivanka asked them looking that the two people beside her. Slowly taking another sip from the shot glass to feel the burning presence of alcohol kiss upon her lips, she was contented. Diran had started to tell his story. A military man... bastard child... runaway... heh! The typical story to Ivanka.
"Running away sometimes solves the problems which bury us so deep, that we forget who we really are..." Ivanka swirled the alcohol around the shot glass. The armenian must've had a good life before becoming a ranger. At least he still had some class. Anica, she looked the type who wandered from place to place. Looking at the two, she realized that she was the only still going strong with the drinks. Anica had now told her story. She was kicked out. Something Ivanka knew what it felt like. BUt of course, her reason for being kicked out was because she had cold-blooded murdered someone. Responsibility??! Who in the world would need that?
Unlike both of them, she was a killer. Countless of lives have been killed before her very eyes. And for what? Money? Yes. That was the answer. She took lives to live out her own. Anica was now down. Poor thing. Too much alcohol for the night. Diran was still swaying around. Ivanka bet with herself how long it would take Diran to stumble upon the drunken men that were already lying on the floor of the bar.
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Diran Parisyan
Junior Member
Ranger
"We are presumed guilty, even when proven innocent."
Posts: 54
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Post by Diran Parisyan on May 12, 2010 0:00:50 GMT -5
With a scowl in Anica's direction at the threat, Diran reached out again to touch her face. Why? Because he knew she wouldn't like it. He wanted to escalate things and end up causing trouble- also, it was always good fun to bother drunks. They tended to overreact to little provocations like that; well, at least he did. Then his eyebrows shot up at her refusal to elaborate on her life. Why wouldn't they want to talk about themselves, unless perhaps it was so painful that they simply wanted to forget...
Diran found that his hands had been back in his lap for a while, and that he had been staring at them blindly. Hands... Ivanka had used her hands to destroy things- and probably more than just lives- and his own had been, in a way, destroyed. For a moment he felt them sting, but he brushed it off as he always did. It was all in his head. He could forget about them now, because he didn't have to see them-
"Y'know, I do believe you two are some of the oddest people I've met. This whole town is very curious, in fact. Everyone around here is either brilliant, daft, mad, or a varied mix of the three." He had to interrupt his train of thought, not because of how embarrassing it was, but how much it hurt.
The Armenian forced a blank expression onto his face and reached into his pocket for his flute, just to hold it. The instrument made him feel better, it distracted him. Closing his eyes, he played out a few soothing notes. Just holding the pretty, silvery thing was not enough; he needed the music, the sweetness of music. When he was done, he laughed sheepishly.
"Sorry. It's something of a habit. I can't stand silences."
Diran was already starting to sober up quite a bit, having only had one drink, whereas Anica seemed to be almost on the floor at that point. Ivanka was steady, despite the alcohol that must have been flooding her system. Curiosity overtaking him, he gave the Romanian an experimental shove, to see if she would fall over.
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Post by Anica Popescu on May 19, 2010 15:20:11 GMT -5
Fall Anica did, followed by colorful stream of Romanian curses.
"What the hell did you do that for?!" She demanded once she got back on her feet, forcibly hitting the flute from Diran's hands. Apparently for Anica, enraged equaled a state of being temporary sober. "I swear, is this how you treat girls? I think you would know since you look enough like one!" She yelled, ignoring the stares she was getting from the sober in the bar. And, although he was trying to be polite about it, the bartender. One hand used the counter for support as she leaned in close to the Armenian. Blinking once as the realization came, snapping sharply in her mind like rusted gears turning again. "I do know you... sort of. You're that guy who got totally shit-faced at that Masquerade-turned-kidnapping-scheme that psycho magic bitch held." She turned towards Ivanka, "you... I'm, not so sure of." The Romanian plopped heavily down in her seat, anger seemingly forgotten. "Yeah you...guy. I'm surprised you got out of there, seeing as how you could -hic- barely stand. Let alone form a sentence..." the raven said, anger slowly turning back into a drunken state, which Anica shook her head to try and be rid of.
"That guy... that albino guy... I think he was gay." Anica concluded after a while, nodding her head slightly. "He was standing a little to close to that brunette pianist." She added, picking up her hat and playing with the tails of the ribbon attached to the rim. "Jus' my obser... obser... ah, damn it. Observation, that's it!" It seemed like the Romanian wasn't quite sober yet, if her inability to remember a word and the fact she was still seeing double was any indication.
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