A refill and a hangnail
Nova pulled her vehicle around to the side of the gas pump and filled up, letting the pump run while she wandered inside the mini mart to pick up some nail clippers. Damn nail had been driving her nuts for the past 300 miles, and she was ready to hack off her entire finger just to get relief from it.
She cracked her stiff neck loudly as she opened the door and took a moment to pop her knuckles as well. It appeared nail clippers were beyond a store of this size at first, and she nearly swore in frustration, but then she spotted an emergency sewing kit that would serve the purpose nicely. She ripped the package open immediately with her teeth and pulled out the tiny scissors. With a snip the errant nail was taken care of, and she walked up to the counter to pay for the already used item.
/ooc I'm fishin', anyone is welcome to join
He adjusted his red tie before going into the gas station. English gentleman or no, he was not above enjoying some of the things this age had to offer, one of them being a cold cola. He grabbed a pepsi from the fridge, opened and took a sip, which all earned him an angry glance from the bloke at the counter. He couldn't have cared less. He proceeded toward the angry clerk at the counter, not noticing the woman comming from the other aisle.
He stumbled into the woman, cola splattering over both of them.
"Bloody hell!"
"My my my...getting clumbsy, are we my love?" May whispered in his ear.
"So it might seem..." he whispered back.
Nova pulled her tee shirt away from her skin to keep from getting too sticky and smirked up at the young man.
Bloody hell 'bout sums it up; looks like that tie is done for, man. Don't worry none about me, this shirt's about had it anyway.
She turned her head to bark at the clerk.
Hey! You got some paper towels or something back there?
Uh, yeah, I got somethin'.
Eric the Clerk grabbed a roll of paper towels from behind the counter and pulled off a length for the floor before handing the remainder to the mouthy lady. He then crouched down on the premise of cleaning up the floor, keeping a wary eye on the pair.
Yep, think it's done for. Though some club soda might get it out. At least get yourself another soda pop though, no reason to add insult to injury.
He took the paper towels the clerk was offering them, and was about to help her get cleaned up, when he realized where exactly she would need cleaning up. He decided giving her some of the towels was a better course of action.
"Don't worry about the tie, it wasn't very nice anyway"
"Liar, you liked that tie quite a bit"
He ignored May for the moment.
"But you'll have to let me pay for that t-shirt of yours, I insist"
Knowing full well that the only dollars he had on him were the 100 kind, he reached into one of his pockets and handed her one.
"I hope this will be enough...."
The clerk glared at the two parties involved in the soda incident, but his eyes widened when he saw the 100 dollar bill the man was holding out.
Probably not interested in stealing, then, unless it was for thrills. For all appearances, though, he seemed to be a paying customer, so Eric saw no reason not to be descent.
Yeah, help yourself to another soda. That happens all the time, no problem.
Hell, some might say -I- should pay you! I couldn't possibly; like I told you, shirt was done for anyway.
Nova pointed to a hole in the sleeve and grinned, then grabbed a handful of paper towels for herself. There was a little evil voice in Nova's head that was encouraging her to take the money with a wink and a smile, but she squashed that impulse.
Must have a nice reserve to throw around the cash like that. Either that or he's going to go from rich to poor very quickly indeed.
"Please, I insist" ((Suggestion))
He turned to the clerk. "Thank you very much"
Ah, well now you offered twice.
With that she snatched the cash out of the clearly British man's hand and shoved it into her pocket.
She'd never much cared for the 'after you,' 'no, after -you-' sort of games.
Hope you don't live to regret those manners, especially around here.
And with that, she winked and dropped the sewing kit on the counter to pay. A small part of her wondered if she shouldn't have the good grace to be a little less shameless in parting the man from his money, but hell, it was a tough world out there. Take the breaks when you get 'em.
And he -had- insisted.
"Like why you just gave the woman money enough to buy an intire collection of t-shirts dear?"
"Ahh, but one has to maintain a certain standard. There are obligations to nobility you know"
May laughed at him. She often did these days. He grabbed the coke and walked back towards the counter. This meant he would have to drive all the way back to get changed, before he could continue the evening program. Well, noone said life was perfect, not even an undead one. For a second he thought about seducing the odd redhead, providing an explaination for the grey hair as well as a drink. Probably a bad idea though, he had a feeling she would not be very easily seduced, and the fact that he had given her money ment the whole thing could be taken quite the wrong way. Aron had never paid a woman for any "services", he had no intention of starting now.
She whistled low, impressed.
She's a real beauty.
A grin appeared on his face as he saw the woman admiring his car. He walked up to her and with the hint of a smile in his green/blue eyes he said
"You have an excellent taste in cars"
Don't have to be an expert for this one to catch your eye.
She jerked her head in the direction of her own car.
That right there's Powaqa. Gotta love an all American '69 Firebird. Brits know how to make 'em look good and ride well though, I have to admit, even if fueling them is a bitch.
She got a name?
Nova snorted. Figures she would ask the car's name before the man's. Though she'd argue that cars were often times easier to deal with.
For that matter, do you? Mine's Nova.
She offered up her hand and looked at the Brit expectantly.
"I'm Aron Swiftwood, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Nova."
With a sudden mischievous grin he added
"and she is called Lady May"
May sounded like she was choking in his head, not that she had been able to choke for the last two centuries. He turned and admired the firebird.
"Ahh, a classic. Oldschool american muscle. You could almost outrun the lady here in that thing...."
Depending on the model, and how much of the engine saying "HKS-USA", she might very well be able to outrun "The Lady" indeed...
The pleasure is all mine.
At the comment directed at her vehicle, Nova settled her judgement. Ah, he -is- a cheeky one isn't he? Excellent.
A fitting name for an elegant machine. But almost? Pawqua could give your Lady May quite a run for her money; if nothing else, the match would be exciting.
Nova smiled mischievously.
Though I suppose a fine upstanding gentleman such as yourself wouldn't want to put his Lady through her paces and back up his claims, now would he?
"Like any fine lady, this one has to be taken out to dance every once in a while. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I could not back up my claims?"
He gave her a charming smile.
"But I wouldn't be so bold as to ask you to race a car from 69 against a new jag. It would be most unfair of me....Unless ofcourse you asked me to"
The smile on his lips broadened.
"You'll probably loose, I somehow doubt that engine is unadjust"
"I'm well aware of the fact" he whispered
Eh. She'd certainly seen weirder people in her time; thinking out loud didn't rate all that high on her scale of oddities.
I would consider it a courtesy, Mr. Aron Swiftwood. What better way to break her in than to put her against your fine machine? Poor girl's itching to fly.
Nova leaned against the Firebird and crossed her arms over her chest, grinning in well spirited challenge. She couldn't be sure who would win this race, should the gentleman agree, but it would be exciting in any case. And Nova thought Pawqua had more than a fighting chance, though she was untested as of yet.
This would be a most interresting match. Best case senario was her having a standard firebird engine, leaving him with more than twice the power. Aron didn't believe in best case scenarios. He jumped into "The Lady" and pressed a button, making the roof slide on. He had no intentions of loosing this because of aerodynamics.
"So, where are we racing from? and where to?"
He could already feel the adrenaline starting to rush through his veins. This might turn out to be quite an interresting evening after all.
There's as good a spot as any. That light to the next one should give us plenty of distance.
See you there.
She gave Pawqua a pat before sliding neatly into the driver's seat and fastening her seatbelt. No reason not to at least take a precaution or two. She did hope Mr. Aron Swiftwood wasn't the type to let her win in hopes of looking like a 'nice guy,' though Nova didn't think that was the case. He seemed as ready for fun as she was, and while she was looking for a good race more than a victory tonight, a little competition gave the whole matter a nice edge.
She pulled out of the gas station and made her way to the stoplight.
"What happened to 'Ladies first', love?"
Aron laughed. "The road is another playground, the gentleman rules hardly apply there May"