3457/THIS IS A SCENE BUT WITH WATER!

THIS IS A SCENE BUT WITH WATER!
Date of Scene:	20 September 2020
Location:	Atlantic Ocean Coastline
Synopsis:	Namorita hassles Arthur after they talk with Namor.
Cast of Characters:	Nita Prentiss, Arthur Curry

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Nita Prentiss has posed:
The bar is not in any New York guides to the swankiest places for meeting people. It's not even in the more quirky guides to New York's underground places for the hip to feel cool and brag about when they return to the suburbs. It's a large room, that even after the health department put its foot down, still has straw shavings on the floor for people to throw their cracked peanut shells into. It's swept after a big weekend. The walls have the stern ends of well-known ships that have been taken out of commission, the obligatory net with glass floats that have been replaced by plastic, and a row of regulars that squint gruffly at anyone that is not a local.

Namorita turns heads. Her natural platinum blonde hair shines in the low lights like a pearl underwater. The neat swing of her hips as she walks to the bar lift eyebrows and brings appreciative smiles to the older men's lips. Arm on the long wooden bar, polished by many seamen and dock workers, she waits for Arthur to join her.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Doesn't take long, the tall man had lingered at the entrance trading a few wry words with the man that handles the front. Not quite a bouncer, not quite a host, more like just one of the family who runs the bar who eyeballs the visitors to see if they're going to bring trouble. Namorita, she got a grin and a nod as she sauntered past. But Arthur?
    "Arthur Curry, you son of a bitch." And that has the two big men clasping forearms and slapping each other on the shoulder, laughing and going in for the bro-hug before stepping back, "Percy, the hell are you doing here man? Didn't your family have the good sense not to let your dumb ass handle front of house?"
    "Hey fuck you, man. I do this shit right."
    "Yeah yeah, or more like they figure cheaper in the long run to keep you here instead outta jail with you runnin' around like a crazy person."
    "Could be, could be. Hey, go get a drink and get outta my hair you New England Masshole."
    A snort, "Maine, man, Maine is a world apart from Massachusetts. Dumb ass."
    And with that the two men part ways, Percy rubbing his bald head and laughing as he shakes it, then goes back to keeping an eye on the front. Which finally leaves Arthur strolling after to take a seat at Namorita's side, which seems to cause some of the men who had been eyeballing her to grumble a bit.
    "Hey, Mandy. Two beers." He holds up two fingers then glances at Namorita to see if that meets her approval.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Namorita watches the camaraderie at the front door, amusement quirking one side of her mouth. Amusement that stays even after he joins her.

She moves her barstool a bit to give him room, then lifts a hand, "It's what I wanted with my dog. Sometimes beer is the only right thing. Beer and dogs, beer and BBQ, beer and sushi. Right?"

With a reach and an excuse me to the the dock worker next to her, she pulls a pail of peanuts between Arthur and herself, then plucks one out. She cracks and peels it then pops the peanuts in her mouth then fishes another out.

"Guess you've been here before, huh?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Beer and mexican food," He tells her, then adds. "Beer and bratwurst. Beer and burgers." In the same tone she was using, not mocking but more falling into sync as he settles at the bar, then reaches over and grabs a handful of the salted nuts, tossing them into his mouth a few at a time in between words.
    "Yeah, a few times. Down the way at Dock 41 some of my dad's old friends come in now and again and we catch up." He chews on the peanuts and then gives a nod to Mandy who is a BIG woman but with an angel's sile as she sets the beer bottles in front of them both. "Thanks Mandy, 'ppreciate it."
    "Anytime, darlin'." She offers back and grins as she heads back to the other end of the bar dealing with a late dinner order from one of the locals over there.
    Then Arthur looks back to her and murmurs, "So now here's the part where you tell me your life story and I pretend to be all interested and nod engagingly like this."
    His eyes empty, going vacant then he says in a quiet tone, "That is /so/ interesting."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"Wow," Nita widens her blue eyes in exaggerated shock and dismay, shaking her head. "You really know what to say to someone to put them at ease. But, that is so much better than me having to hang on your every word as you tell me how great you are at whatever you do, then tell me how the world should be according to Curry and finish off by making a pass at me while my eyes glaze over. Yep." She finishes with a long slug of her beer and a satisfied ah. "I needed that."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    The smile she's given is wry and amused even as he lowers his gaze, but then looks up sidelong at her, "Good that we're on the same page then." And as he says that he manages a straight face. But then his amber eyes will meet hers, just steady dead on serious. The eyes of an undertaker at a graveyard with not enough work to do.
    But then if her face breaks a little, or shows a hint of humor, he can't handle it and he'll end up busting out laughing shaking his head and looking away as he takes another sip of that beer.
    "Honestly?" He says either way, though just differs in whether or not he's smiling when he does. "I like giving you crap, and to be fair I haven't decided if I was going to make a pass at you yet." He lifts a hand up and sorta waves it to the side, "No game playing here, no negging or whatever it's called. Not on you, more on me. You're definitely the type of gal I'd go for normally."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
They match each other, long sustained look for look, his morose face mirrored by her own. Humor dances in the depths of her blue eyes and creeps into the corners of her mouth. Their laughter turns heads at the bar, one guy glaring at the two as though they had said a string of cuss words. Something he likely would have been more at ease with.

"Honesty, is it? Okay." That said with disarming simplicity. "In other words, no agenda." She raises her glass to toast that. Relaxed, she looks up and down the bar. "Your father has friends here?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Yup, honesty." Arthur says as he looks around then waves a hand, "He did, sometimes. He's passed on." Which is said with a touch of solemnity, but not fresh grief. "We run... well, ran a lighthouse up in Maine."
    The tall man smiles as he looks across the way toward the door as if expecting to see someone come through, then he looks back to her and says lightly. "But that was later in life, when he was about my age he ran with a tough crowd, old sea dogs and I still see them from time to time. Good people, salt of the earth."
    That said he leans against the bar and takes a sip of his beer, the peanuts having done their job and made him thirsty to focus on the drinking. "He used to be in the Merchant Marine, did a lot of traveling. Friends everywhere up and down the coast, and I try to keep in touch."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"Nice you knew him. That's lucky you know." Eyes downcast she might be finishing that sentence to herself, not ready to share her thoughts on fathers. She turns in her seat to look at the locals playing pool then back at Arthur. "I love lighthouses," she says, then frowns at herself. "That sounded weird, I guess. But, I do. I like how they look like tall benevolent beings when you're out to sea. Though, they can be scary, too. Flashing across the water and showing up things that might want to stay hidden." With a shrug, she takes another drink of beer. The girl is matching him ounce for ounce.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    His smile curves almost a smirk as he tells her, "Should try growing up in one, tons of cardio, up and down the steps." But Arthur's smile slips from view behind him taking a drink from the bottle. He sets it down with a faint glassy clink and then turns on his stool just enough to face her more directly. One eyebrow quirks upwards curiously.
    "So what do you do when you're not busy giving old guys the business for daring to talk to you about your bad choice in dining habits?" Their still unfinished brats vs. dogs discussion that had been the source of so much strife when they first spoke.
    "Wait a sec, lemme guess." He touches his bottle to his brow as his eyes close as if summoning some ancient wisdom or telepathic power. "You are... a marine biologist." He opens his eyes and tilts his bottle to her, quirking an eyebrow to see if he's right.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"Hey, not bad. Not bad at all. I must give off a real nerd vibe." Another salute, she turns toward him, dipping her head in approval. "Double major, marine biology and ecology."

Lips pursed, eyebrows lowering, Namorita regards Arthur from the side of her eyes, then dead on. "Nope. I couldn't say what you do except hang out in lighthouses...something to do with the sea though, something...I don't know. You're not a cop. Not a sailor or military. Too lax for that." She closes her eyes, and presses a finger to her head, "I know. A private eye or a secret vigilante." She opens her eyes suddenly to see if she has come close to the mark.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    A short laugh, "Hnh, I only figured marine biology because of 1, you're cute. And 2, you're kinda tanned. So sorta fit my mental stereotype I've build around the marine biologists I've met." Which, to be fair, has been quite a few. But he smiles sidelong and then shrugs and takes another swallow of beer.
    "Me, I..." He stops for a moment and this is the moment of truth as he realizes that he'll either have to lie, or lie by omission, or tell the truth. Which often causes Problems(TM) down the line whichever choice is made. So she can see that hesitation even though they declared that honesty was going to be their shared policy.
    "I still take care of the lighthouse now and again." That's true. "But my dad did fairly alright, I sort of do what I can now and again to help people. But other than that, I sorta float through life." Which, again, very true. There, maybe that'll suffice.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita smells obfuscation like some people smell a turn in the weather. Keeping a straight face, she drops her eyes considering what is it that he is not telling her or circling around. "Ah, okay. A man of independent means. You manage a philanthropic fund for your family." It, in fact, is not far from what she does but she will let him think that she works for NOAA or a scientific institute. Two can play at the let's be honest but not really game.