Owner	Pose
Dinah Lance	"But Dinah," the woman mutters to herself at the end of the bar. "If you take time off, people suffer." She takes another mouthful from the beer she's nursing. Flashback. "A beer." "Just... a beer?" "Yeah, just a beer." "As a chaser?" "No, as the drink. No, give me another beer to chase the first down with." Flashforward. In short she really doesn't quite fit in. The place is mostly full of college students, most of whom give off grunge preppie vibes where she gives off ... half-mechanic, half-biker moll vibes. Still, it's the closest non-dive to Sherwood Florist, it's Saturday, and it's time for the weary (and still, to be perfectly honest, injured) superheroine to unwind. And let's face it, some of the jocks aren't hard on the eyes. Just ... too young to talk to. Nursing a super-sized double-topping double-cheese plate of nachos while she drinks, Dinah watches the crowd as if it were a stakeout.
Blake Riviere	Technically speaking, centuries old vampiric daughter of a noble house shouldn't really fit in anywhere either...but an immortal woman who feeds on blood tended to get better about getting close to people. That and a short skirt and a low neckline tended to help. The 'gothic queen' look had been replaced, but some of the flavour remained thanks to the deep black lipstick and her hair tied back. She fit perfectly well enough with the crowd...or at least she had the sheer confidence to move like she did. She moves towards the the bar, lazily sweeping herself against the counter right next to Dinah and giving a little beckon to the tender to draw his attention.
Dinah Lance	Dinah's eyes look up from her nachos and take in the newcomer. ~Not part of the crowd but good at being part of any crowd,~ she thought. Cougar? Or just someone who likes dance clubs? One excuse she doesn't have is living nearby. "I feel a little awkward in here, truth be told," she pipes up, raising her voice enough to be heard over the booming bass. "But I live nearby and this isn't a dive at least. Crowds a bit young and trendy for my tastes, but the booze is fine and the food's ... OK." She tilts her head as she regards Blake. "What's the appeal for you? You look like you belong in some high class joint filled with investment bankers and lawyers. Or maybe theatre. I can't quite make up my mind which." The smile is friendly, reaching the eyes, and the tone of voice more self-deprecating than mocking.
Blake Riviere	An order placed, even if it wasn't much more than a beer of her own as much for appearance as anything else. Another piece to look the part...even if Dinah could apparently see right through it. The comment alone was enough to get her attention properly locked on the blonde. "I would not think that black leather skirts and fishnet stockings would be a lawyer's look, but I suppose I should know better than to judge by appearence." She smiles, a brace of her arm against the counter and a shrug of her shoulders. "Honestly? It is something new, a place to find things that are different and interesting." A beat, she tilts her head. "Seems to be working well enough..."
Dinah Lance	"Oh, my. Lawyers when they're off the clock are sharks, honey. The guys peacock up to the gills while trying to score, and the gals they..." Dinah shrugs. "Honestly, you're a bit conservative for a lawyer on a bender." Cleaning her hand briefly with a wet napkin, Dinah stretches it out. "I'm Dinah. Dinah Lance. I own the flower shop down the road." Because she TOTALLY looks like someone who sells flowers, what with the discreetly muscled body, the grease monkey vibe, the tight clothes, and the kerb-stomping boots. "I gotta say, though, I haven't got anything against the short skirt and fishnets look. It's not my vibe usually, but it's a good look on some."
Blake Riviere	"A florist?" Blake muses aloud, a little chuckle from the vampiress who takes the hand in fond greeting and then gestures to herself. "My case is made all the more." One hand lifted to her chest she smiles, shrugging her shoulders. "Blake Riviere," she offers in accented tones, "It is a pleasure to meet you Dinah."
Dinah Lance	"Oh, when I'm in the shop," Dinah laughs, "I'm in a lab coat like thing so I look more 'scientific'. People wouldn't trust someone who dresses like this to know the ins and outs of delicate orchids or such." She downs a gulp of the beer to wash down another chunk of corn chip, cheese, and sauce glop. "So what about you. I'm guessing ... you're a librarian. You know, in the same vein of unexpected profession by manner of dress."
Blake Riviere	She actually laughs at that, honest and true. "Actually...yes," she offers with a little giggle. "Although it is mostly to pass the time. Learning other stories? It is an excuse. After all...." she leans forwards, one hand resting under her chin. "I am always curious about a new story. Yours seems interesting enough. Sad, yet confident. Out of place, and yet there is a gravity about you..." Her drink is lifted, a smile on her painted lips. "Would you share your story with me tonight Dinah?"
Dinah Lance	"Oh, there's nothing special about my life," Dinah says, waving off the question. "Just the usual story of a family whose women sold flowers for generations and their tomboy daughter." She looks up from her plate. "I'm the third generation owning Sherwood Florist, you see. Grandma, Mom, me." The plate occupies her attention again, one chip being used to push around the rest. "Dad was a cop. A detective, who then became a P-I. But he wanted me out of and far away from that life. So ..." A surprised look crosses her face as she realizes what she was about to say. She pauses a moment before a well-practiced lie crosses her lips, troubled eyes peering at Blake. "... uh ... well, I live dreams of working like a cop or something while I stand around selling flowers."
Blake Riviere	A little shift of her form, Blake truely seemed to be listening, view fixed completely on the blonde's own gaze rather than any other distraction that might be offered. It seemed...entrancing to her, only the vampiress would blink as she noticed that shift of Dinah's own and her lips quirk a little in amusement. "So why not do it?" she questions lightly, her fingers idly toying with her barely touched drink. "This is not the 1800's, a woman such as yourself could easily be a police officer, or whatever else she might wish to be."
Dinah Lance	"Who'd take care of the shop then?" Dinah asks 'reasonably' at the question. "I mean it's kind of a family tradition now, isn't it? Also, don't get me wrong, I love the plants. It's not like I hate what I do." She shakes her head decisively. "No, I think it's OK. Everybody makes choices in their life and there's always something you do that you might think back as better if you'd done the other. But it's a one-way trip to madness if you second-guess everything, right?" Now the nachos are a focus again, instead of a distraction. "I'm fine with the way my life is. I can ride a bike like I'm a maniac..." Yes. 'Like'. "...hit the gym to work out, and still work with the flowers. I don't have to be a cop to have fun, right?"
Dinah Lance	"Who'd take care of the shop then?" Dinah asks 'reasonably' at the question. "I mean it's kind of a family tradition now, isn't it? Also, don't get me wrong, I love the plants. It's not like I hate what I do." She shakes her head decisively. "No, I think it's OK. Everybody makes choices in their life and there's always something you do that you might think back as better if you'd done the other. But it's a one-way trip to madness if you second-guess everything, right?" Now the nachos are a focus again, instead of a distraction. "I'm fine with the way my life is. I can ride a bike like I'm a maniac..." Yes. 'Like'. "...hit the gym to work out, and still work with the flowers. I don't have to be a cop to have fun, right?"
Blake Riviere	"I do believe that is what employees are for," she muses aloud, but still the woman nods none the less and absently reaches out, boldly perhaps, to claim a stolen nacho. "There is no harm in trusting another now and then. Why not find others that appreciate the same beauty in flowers. You might be able to enjoy yourself more if you were to put things in another's hands."
Dinah Lance	"I'm a bit of a control freak, really," Dinah says, rubbing her fingers through her hair somewhat sheepishly. "I'd constantly be worried about if things were being done the right way or not. It's just bad juju all around." She pauses a bit. "I do bike rallies, though. I mean it's not like I live a life without excitment, just a day-in, day-out boring grind. I slay on the motorcycle." And she's got quite the set of lungs if the crop-top is anything to go by. "So, really, like I said, it's just a bad idea to second-guess. Live the life you've got and own your choices really." The plate slides midway between Blake and Dinah as a silent offer while she grabs another lump that has all the major food groups but one in play: starch, grease, and sugar. The final food group--booze--is used to wash down the prior three.
Blake Riviere	Happy with the apparent sharing, the vampiress lifts the nacho to her lips before shrugging her shoulders. "Leather, motorcycles, interesting people...A rush of the excitement with the motorcycle. I can see the appeal." A beat, she turns her gaze over the bar, taking in the other patrons and perhaps spying any other gaze they might have attracted. "Did you ride here tonight?" She shifts, even as she snacks on another nacho. A 'food group' that was really only for the experience. There was only one sustainance she needed after all.
Dinah Lance	"Normally I wouldn't, but I came from somewhere else, so yeah, I rode," Dinah says. Her eyes trace and follow Blake's gaze and observes, uncommented upon, who and what she's looking at. You can't turn off the detective, can you? Of course there were other gazes on them. Both of them stand out a bit, in that both are of the variety that would be considered very attractive, and neither of them quite fits into the vibe of the club (Dinah less than Blake, looking very working-class). "Seeing anything catch your eye?" she asks after a moment's observation. "You're looking at some of the kids here like they're food." Beat. "Not gonna lie, some of the jocks are kinda hot."
Blake Riviere	She actually laughs at that, a shrug of her shoulders and her hand to her lips. "Am I so transparent?" the woman questions lightly before shrugging lightly, Blake's gaze shifting back to Dinah and meeting her own with that same air of confidence smirk. "But I'd hardly be the first bored or lonely soul to come to a bar looking to fulfill a need if that was the case, no?" She does however, seem to assess the workers one last time before looking back to Dinah. "Perhaps I could convince you to take me for a ride later? The company has been pleasent." A slight tilt of her head, consideration does cross her features. "Of course, if you have...other interests or lack there of? I can leave you to your evening."