Always being somebody else (Victoire)

[Brendan James]

Sitting in Kali’s Kafe in the middle of the day, it was more coffee shop then bar at the moment. Considering it was barely into the afternoon. But had that stopped Brendan from ordering a glass of wine? Psht. No. Not at all. He liked to pretend to be French on occasion, or what he thought they were like. And in his mind, they ordered wine at one in the afternoon. Obviously, today was a French day for him.

Which also meant eating a croissant and smoking. And he poor French accent too. But also acting glamorous, in an understated kind of way. Just be thankful that he’s not also wearing a beret. Because he totally would. And he actually had one or two at home. The rest of his outfit was how he thought a French person might dress. Except for his shoes. He was still Brendan James after all. He needed a little splash of color.

After the waitress had finished pouring him a new glass of wine, Bren smiled politely at the woman. “Zank you so very much for zees.” She became slightly flustered, enjoying his accent obviously. It was a miracle he could save his snort until after she walked away. And he quietly muttered that he’d have to do this some time with Vin.

He looked around though quickly after that, hoping nobody had heard his regular, American accent. And if they had, he certainly hoped they wouldn’t ruin his fun. If they did, Brendan would definitely understand why foreigners hated Americans. “Stupeed Amereecans…” That should throw off anybody who had overheard him off his tracks, right? Yeah, probably not Brendan.

[Victoire Lavergne]

~Everything I've been through, you wouldn't know~

Kali's Kafe was a strange place, in Victoire's mind. Who had the idea of fusing a liquor license and coffee? Perhaps it was more common down here, in America, but back in Canada it was rare, possibly unheard of. Sure, Starbucks was getting a liquor license, but that was more of a gimmick than anything, right? Eh, perhaps it was just that nothing could beat good ol' Tim Hortons, so maybe Victoire was a little bias. And besides, this tiny coffee shop stole some of her costumers, what with Victoire being a waitress herself just down the street.

Despite this place not being in Victoire's greatest favor, here she was, walking straight through the door. As soon as she entered, she noticed a bit of a scene unfolding before her. There was a guy talking to a waitress, nothing new there, but the fact that he was being handed some wine at noon... And his voice was also set apart from the rest, due to an accent. Oh, and his attire helped to set him apart. He was dressed in classic French clothes, erring on the side of stereotypical. Now, this raised alarms for Victoire. If you knew French people, you'd know they are always dressed in the most modern, fashionable, attire. So overall, Victoire already knew something was off, although she couldn't quite call him out on being a fake quite yet. He could have been frozen in a giant iceblock then a mad scientist just brought him back to life, right?

Victoire had to smirk and shake her head when a cute brunette became flustered over the man's accent. Alright, now she knew the man was a fake. I mean, a French guy being polite to an American? Hell no, they even hate the do-gooders of the world, also known as Canadians.

Now hopefully she would get to mess with this boy... Right after she ordered a sensible drink. What do you buy at a coffee shop? Hummm... I wonder... Well Victoire paid right at the counter so she could have a to-go cup, impatiently waited for her coffee, then when she was finally handed it she straightened out her shirt, fixed her gloves and walked over to the 'sexy Frenchman.' She took a seat as she sipped her drink, briefly overhearing some comment about stupid Americans. Not so polite now, eh?

So how do you throw a false foreigner a curveball? "Alors, vous venez du France aussi?" She smiled politely to the man, almost knowingly. "Oh, et comment etes-vous avec les femmes locales? Cette brunette a le beguin pour vous deja, avec l'accent!" Victoire teased but at the same time rubbed the guy's ego, winking at him. If he was a fake, surely he would break down and explain to her. Though the downside was that if he was actually French then Victoire would have to suffer through a long speech in her least favorite language in the world. Hell, the only reason she was speaking any French right now was to mess with the guy.

Absent mindedly, she toyed with her chain necklace, kinky, I know, right?

~Feels like I'm talkin' to myself~

-----------------------------------------

OUTFIT
NECKLACE

TRANSLATION: "So, you are from France also?"
"Oh and how are you with the local ladies? That brunette[the waitress] has the hots for you already, with that accent!"

[Brendan James]

To Brendan this was the worst part of the day. Vin was still at school. And he’d discouraged the boy from skipping, so he couldn’t really encourage it for his own benefit. Not in good conscience anyway. The kid really needed to at least graduate high school. Even if it was only by the edge of his pants. But that all depended on him actually attending classes. And even though he told his boyfriend to continue going to classes, he was fairly certain that the boy was still skipping.

Which made not seeing him at this time all the more difficult to him. But Brendan wasn’t going to reward poor behavior. No matter how sad it made him. And made him pouty. To try and cheer himself up, that’s exactly why he did these kinds of things. His little antics always put a smile back on his face. Such as making local girls think he was french. Most girls, well ones he knew at least, were suckers for an accent.

It pleased him beyond words that his waitress was no different. He had plans to tease and torture her. Of course, all innocently. He was in a relationship after all. Perhaps he’d even bring Vin here another day and the boy could join him in the teasing and torturing. It was one of the good things about dating somebody about eight years younger than him. Their maturity levels were pretty much equal.

But he was taken off guard when a woman began speaking to him. In french no less. Now he was busted. To hide the smile on his face at having to confess, he took a sip of his wine while she spoke. He figured he had one of two options. One, he could confess. Or two, he could pretend to speak the language, which he didn’t know a word of, and simply make sounds that possibly sounded french, making a complete and utter fool of himself.

When she had finished, Brendan set down his glass. And he realized. There was a third option he’d not originally seen. Because, he did in fact know some french. Everybody knew some french. Unless you’d been living under a rock for the last twenty or so years.

He gathered his things and joined the blonde at her table. She initiated conversation, so he figured joining her at the table wasn’t too rude. Not that any of those things would’ve stopped him. He’d sat at random strangers’ tables before without even asking if it was ok.

Leaning closer to the girl, who was obviously at least a bit younger than him, Brendan smiled his classic million-watt smile. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” He wasn’t sure of the exact translation. But knew it basically equated to asking her if she wanted a good romp in the sheets. He’d found it too funny to pass up. And as soon as he said it, he began chuckling.

“That’s the extent of my french Madame.” He said, his laughter coming to an end. “Don’t tell the waitress though.” And he put his pointer finger to his lips and gave the girl a wink.

[Victoire Lavergne]

~I wanna do it 'till the sun goes up, 'till we're both so good and sweaty that we can't stand up~

Victoire could hardly be surprised when the man walked right over and joined her as she fingered her drink. As in running her fingers around the rim, not fingering... Oh you understand. Now was the moment of truth for the conversation, always so cruel in its coming so early. Would she have to endure the endless French lecture? Or perhaps he would admit and attempt to lamely impress her like many guys did nightly. Just hopefully, he wouldn't turn out to be a nervous dud.

She attempted to hold her ground, not leaning away from the man as he leaned in. She wasn't put off by his breath or anything- it smelled like wine, obviously- but its not exactly the least unnerving thing to have a guy leaning in as if he was about to kiss you when you have met him only minutes ago, even if he had such a millionaire's grin.

Okay, so now Victoire had to straighten her back. She was not exactly expecting to be asked to have a fling, especially in such an awkward phrasing. The way he said it was as if you were asking your teacher to screw as if it was a normal, everyday thing, all the while still calling her miss. Victoire raised her brows to him and replied after taking a sip of coffee, this time in English, "Cute, you're trying to flirt with me. But I don't think you would have enough energy for me." Well that should shut him down. Guys can hardly ever handle it when they're straight-out told they're flirting, although in this case she did take an unfair stab at their slight age difference.

Oh, so he didn't speak French. What a relief. Probably got his one grand sentence from some song or something. Victoire gave up a light giggle when he commanded her to not tell the waitress. But she wasn't just going to stand by and say nothing... Without a payment of sorts. "Well... I have rather loose lips..." She explained slowly. "But how about this; I'll thumb wrestle you. If you win, I wont tell, if I win then..." She had to pause to think while she released her coffee cup to offer her hand to the man to begin the game, naturally giving him a big, playful, smirk as well.

"Then you show me your sexiest moonwalk," Yeah, yeah, it was silly but it should be fun to see, so Victoire thought. Besides, a thumb war is something that a common guy couldn't conceed to a girl. Of course, Victoire wasn't about to play fair. With the hand she was not offering to the man she reached across her own waist and under her shirt, and began moving her fingers across her own skin, as if tickling herself. But there is that law we all know, that you can't tickle yourself, which is why her plot worked out so well. See, she planned to use her power on the man across from her once they began their little game, giving him a tickle long enough to distract him so she could win.

~Well this means war~

-----------------------------------------

Feel free to powerplay the wrestling, with whomever winning.

[Brendan James]

Ok, first of all… That’s the best description of fingering ones coffee cup. Ever. In the history of the world. And that’s from both myself and Brendan. Now that that’s out of the way.

This girl was good. Really good actually. The whole leaning close thing, like one would right before an intimate embrace, was something Brendan did often. And it usually made people recoil. Especially strangers. But she didn’t. And based on that and that alone, Bren decided he was going to like the younger girl. Immensely so.

But again, he was overjoyed that he’d gotten a reaction from the girl by what he said. Honestly, how often did a complete stranger ask you to bed? That was Brendan though. He lived for doing ridiculous and absurd things, simply to get a reaction. Probably the best way to describe the older man was that he was a performer. No, not an actor, but as he phrased it, ‘a performer of life’. While most people became settled in their sedentary lives, Bren thrived on doing. His need to do mixed with his lack of morals and low self awareness, well, it was no wonder why his adventures often led to him being asked to leave certain establishments, somebody being offended, somebody crying, or him landing in a jail cell (all things unrelated to anything actually illegal… Well most).

“Yes, yes I am flirting you.” With a smirk on his face, Brendan didn’t give in. “But you can’t exactly blame me, now can you?” He took a pause, only to have a small sip of wine. “A man sees a beautiful woman, his first instinct is going to be to flirt with her.” Smiling at the girl, he stayed exactly where he was, leaned across the table towards her. Yes, he was shamelessly flirting with this girl. And it probably wasn’t a wise thing to do. He knew though that it wouldn’t lead any to anywhere. No matter the girl’s beauty. “I’m Brendan by the way. It’s always a great day when I get to meet an angel.” Ok, that might have been laying it on a little think. But it made him smile.

And snicker threatened to escape the man when she mentioned having ‘loose lips’. He had to stop himself from asking her a question that would most definitely be considered sexual harassment. There was no need to add ‘sexual harasser’ to the list of why local people didn’t like him. But he had to say something about it. “I would like an amendment…. If I win, I say you should tell me more about these lips of yours.” To answer your question, yes Brendan makes me facepalm a lot. Also, I’m slightly ashamed.

Taking her hand in his, in proper thumb war form, he couldn’t help but to laugh. “Moonwalk? Sexily? You came to the right man, love. I moonwalk better than Michael Jackson.” The smirk on his face was confident. Though it was horribly misplaced. Bren’s dancing skills could be equated to a fish out of water. And moonwalking might lead to him face-planting into the floor.

Starting the war off in its traditional way ‘1-2-3-4 I declare a thumb war’. Trying to be slick, Brendan bobbed and weaved his thumb. It almost looked like professional boxers when the fight has only just begun. Their feet moving as quickly as they could back and forth. He was confident he could win though. She was just a girl after all.

He’d noticed the movement of her hand to her wrist, but nothing else. It was a distraction method clearly to try and pull his attention away from their game. Well haha to her because it didn’t work.

Little did he know that while their two thumbs danced, she had something up her sleeve. He’d felt the tickling right away. And for a moment or two, he was able to ignore it enough to pin her thumb. But then it became too much and the distraction worked just enough in her favor that she managed to slip the finger from his hold on it.

It also provided her with the perfect opportunity to pin his thumb down. But before the count down ended, declaring her the winner, Brendan jerked his hand away. The tickling had become too much to handle as he choked out giggles. “Daaaamn…” He said rubbing his wrist, trying to get the tickling to cease. He wasn’t sure the hell was going on. “I suppose you win now.”

[Victoire Lavergne]

~Doesn't really mean I'm into you, hello-o-o~

Her eyes immediately went skyward when the man mentioned that he couldn't be blamed for flirting with her, along with a sigh. Victoire didn't care all that much if he caught a whiff of her being less than amused. He really didn't think she heard this before? Hello-o, she was a less-than-intimidating waitress at a joint known for its alcohol and sometimes its racier dance routines. If she wasn't getting a couple rude, 'smooth' boys hitting on her hourly then she would be checking herself in the bathroom rather meticulously. To the guy's credit, though, it wasn't as if he knew any of this... And the fact that he didn't back down when he was called out was kind of unique.

Okay, now Victoire wasn't sure what was worse. Being called 'madame' or an angel. Angel just came with such high expectations (which Victoire would say she completely lives up to) and madame is, well, French. "God, you're like the master of cheesy movie pickup lines," Victoire took another shot at him. Now this was a bit cruel, but something about his persona told her that Brendan could handle it, most guys who use stupid pickup lines tend to be able to, its almost frustrating, really. Perhaps this her recent cruelty was the result of having to be so fake in humoring her frequent visitors. Tips didn't leave themselves.

Her tongue received a nip when Brendan amended the agreement, although Victoire nodded her consent. Now he was acting more like a sly dog, which is much more attractive in her opinion. But Victoire vehemently denies such. Lets all be honest though, people who can walk the streets without unreasonable fear, people who can flirt shamelessly without fear of rejection, people who can laugh every little thing off, those are the people who run their own lives and thus have the most fun.

Victoire merely shut up as Brendan continued to brag. The strange thing was how legitimate he seemed to sound. Many guys are cocky and all, but it is a sarcastic cocky. It was going to be interesting if he could pull through.

When the war began Victoire was immensely amused by Brendan's lame attempt to be cool. Wait... Did that make his attempt actually cool? One of those paradox moments, I suppose. She found herself laughing before Brendan even was. Her gaze rose from their intertwined hands, she was destined to win anyway, and went up to look him in the eye. Now, while he was focused on the game, was a good time to check him out. He was clearly a playful little ass, and everything seemed to be a game. God, he reminded her of a teenager...

"Ah," She gasped, eyes snapping back to her gloved hand. She had been stupid enough to let herself be pinned before her meta power took much of an effect. Damn Murphy... Thankfully she managed to worm her way out of a loss in the nick of time, then pin him in turn. Quickly in turn he ripped his hand away. Victoire paused for a moment then raised her brows as if asking, 'what?' She let her hand drift down to return to her coffee cup, going back to fing-- toying with it.

Victoire placed her other, left, hand, which had been playing the the tricks, on her cheek, propping her elbow on the table. She began tapping her fingers on her cheek. Ring, middle, index, ring, middle, index... At the same time she used her power once more to pass on the sensations to Brendan's own cheek. "Something bothering you?" She asked, tilting her head and playing dumb. He should be able to figure it out now. Hopefully he was accepting of metas, or possibly even one himself. Overall, this revealing of her power was a bit of a risk, incase he was a stereotyp-er, but she would feel worse if he weren't to know.

Continuing on as if nothing odd were happening she said, "Oh and my name is Victoire, its not everyday I get to meet a guy who'll moonwalk for me." She mimicked his earlier speech while hinting that she wanted her reward now.

~I wanna see you move like they movin' in Jamaica, pretend I'm a dinner, she can be my salt shaker~[/url]

[Brendan James]

“Hell yeah I am.” Brendan said with a wide, goofy grin. He liked to think cheesy pick-up lines were his specialty. But he only ever said them with no expectation of being taken seriously. And on top of that, he would never date somebody who actually fell for any ‘lines’ he spewed. Please note how I said ‘date’. He would most definitely do other things. Not that that mattered now of course. In the past is what I’m referring to. “But… You make it sound like a bad thing? Let me tell ya’, there are quuiiite a few women out there willing to fall for them.” Of course, the realization that his words made him sound like a user and slut hadn’t set in. That wasn’t to say he’d care… He just had yet to realize.

When all she did was give a simple nod to Brendan at his amendment, he was thrilled. There was nothing better than when somebody played along with his games. Which was exactly what his request had been. A game. He’d been teasing about the loose lips. However… If she actually did… Well that’s just say Bren would probably tackle her from across the table, then take her home to show his new friend off to Vin. Then again, his boyfriend might try to steal his new friend’s attention from Brendan. Jerkface… the older man thought to himself as the scenario played out in his head.

The ‘Ah’ he heard from the younger girl made him smirk. Having her thumb pinned down made his cocky smirk grow even more. He was positive he’d win. Sure of it. Then again, he was often described as ‘overly confident’. But he didn’t see at as a bad thing. Until somebody, like Victoire, proved that it was true.

Having been staring at his wrist, he hadn’t noticed her finger movements. At first. But he’d been trying to figure out what exactly had happened. There’d been a kind of ticklish feeling on his wrist. And now his cheek too? For a sliver of a second, he wondered if the use of his power was finally catching up with him. He’d been using it more and more… Perhaps it was finally happening? His grip on reality was finally slipping. “Uh, no. Everything’s fine.”

But when he looked up and saw her fingers… And they were matching up perfectly with the touches on his cheek. It took him a moment. Because, well it’s Brendan and sometimes (meaning quite often) he can be a dunce. One could almost hear the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place. When they finally were in place, a loud gasp came from older man. “Cheeeeeeeeeeater! You filthy cheater!” The smile on his face though made it obvious there were no ill feelings towards the girl.

“You’re just lucky I like to moonwalk chicka. Otherwise I would SO challenge you to a rematch.”

With that, Brendan pushed his chair back and stood up. “Prepare to be amazed Victoire!” Stepping out to the little isle between tables, Bren adjusted his pants (as in pulled the legs up a little bit). Holding his arms out to his sides, as if he were balancing on a tightrope, he started. The kind of illusion of walking forward while actually moving back was one he’d practiced hard at when he was young. It’d taken him a long time to grasp it. And he remembered it being easier.

And just when he thought he was getting the hang of it, one foot slipped too far back. It resulted in what will be known as ‘The Faceplant Heard ‘round The World’. Obviously, it had happened too quickly for his hands or arms to brace his fall. And his head hit the floor just right, that it bounced off the restaurant’s floor. He’d managed to move his arms in time for the second impact.

Laying there for a moment, Brendan would’ve groaned in pain. But that was soooo unmanly. So he just laid in silence. Finally, he looked up from the spot he was laying, and asked Victoire, “So… How many brownie points does this lose me? I need to know how hard I have to keep working.”

[Victoire Lavergne]

~Gentlemen, do I have at least one number right? Oh, was that a horn? No number right? Not one number right? ...While you motherfuckers fail~

Women fall for them? Nuh-uh. Pity screw, maybe, and as far as Victoire understood it, that was good enough for most guys. Backtracking to women falling for cheesy pick-up lines, though, perhaps if they were from Florida or Arizona... Why the hate on those groups? Well as part of The Nation I, along with Victoire, say that most of the idiots come from those states, so we could see some really dumb blondes from those states getting ready to ride disco sticks after being called beautiful once or twice.

Victoire had to admit, she was surprised that she wasn't just allowed to win outright. Even with a stake in it for Brendan, usually a guy would forfeit just to make the girl feel good. That said, it didn't really matter to her, it was more of an ego boost to the guy if he won, anyway, she won.

Brendan almost lost her faith completely when it took him awhile to even look up when she used her meta power. C'mon, man, you've gotta be able to do better than that! Eventually he looked up, but it sure took him long enough. And it took even longer for him to realize what was happening. Well there went his mental age of a teenager down to an eleven year old...

Once he finally called her a cheater, drawing his words out and acting all dramatic, Victoire stopped tapping her cheek. Victoire found herself compelled to comment, "You know, you'd make a hell of an actor." Hey, after taking multiple shots at him and even beating him in thumb wrestling, she had to lay off sometime.

"Break a leg," She murmured as Brendan stood to show off, or pay up, depending on how you see it. Suddenly it struck her she was lucky it wasn't her paying up. As far as she could sense of this guy, she'd be having her ass stared at for as long as she entertained him and her moves would sadly go to waste. Victoire chewed on her lip and softly giggled as he attempted to moonwalk.

Six. That's out of ten. As in, he got six out of ten on his moonwalk. If you could even get the motion going, you get a five, 'cause its amazing how many people can't even do that, but beyond that Brendan wasn't exactly Khons. And such was proven by his ten-point-oh Olympic-worthy execution of the common face-plant.

Swiftly she was out of her chair, accidentally knocking down and spilling her coffee on the way, although she managed to dodge any stray liquid. She knelt beside his head and placed her hand between his head and the ground, as if to save it from what had already happened. "Are you okay?" Victoire asked, worry clear in her voice. She felt like an old mother when she cleared out Brendan's hair to examine his now red forehead, although she banished any 'motherly' thoughts instantly. It looked like there would be a bump and it would sting for awhile but so long as he didn't hit his head terribly hard then he would be fine.

Worry was tossed out when Brendan made a stupid comment about brownie points. Silly Victoire, always forgetting she was supposed to be keeping track of these things. "You suck at the moonwalk," Victoire said as she rolled her eyes. "But I think you can win back your precious points if you buy me a new coffee... You're not allowed to spike it though."

She stood up then offered her hand to help him up. "And I'm curious what you think you're working for?" Victoire cocked her head and smirked. Would he have the balls to say he wanted a screw or what?

~Now that what don't kill me can only make me stronger~

[Brendan James]

Yeah, it surprised Brendan too just how often women fell for those wretched lines. But it also wouldn’t surprise him if a majority of them had been pity screws. He certainly would’ve respected them more if it had purely been pity. But he knew better than to not say that, not unless asked. Because it would make him sound like a horrible person. He wasn’t really. Not usually at least. Though his brutal honesty could be make him seem like he was in fact a horrible person.

As for as not letting her win, Brendan never let anybody win. Never. Well, not never. Years ago, when his sisters had been little, he’d often let them win games that they insisted he play with them. But now that they were older, understood the rules of games, knew how to play… Well, was there anybody in the world who actually liked to lose? The only other time he allowed people to win was when trying to sleep with a woman. But it varied from each person. Some girls would be turned off he lost, while others would be turned off if he didn’t let them win. So he had to be careful to judge correctly. However, since he wasn’t trying to sleep with this girl, it didn’t particularly matter. Shameless flirting didn’t automatically lead to the bedroom… Right? Brendan might not actually know the answer to that.

Gasping, Brendan stared at her in shock. “Holy damn… You say nice things? You give compliments?” Laughing softly, he smiled at her. Of course he was kidding. Sort of. She had taken a jab or two at him and tried to shake him off by stating point blank what he was doing, but Bren had brushed it off as all in good fun. But what she said had him beaming. If he weren’t an artist, acting would’ve been his next career choice path. “But thank you.” And when he said it, he bowed slightly in her direction. When he was looking directly at her again, he smirked, a smirk that was almost always on his face. Especially when flirting. “If you’re lucky, I’ll give you an autograph.” Yes, he is just that cocky.

He was grateful that she was quick enough to lay her hand down before his head hit the floor for a second time. It had hurt a bit, not that he’d let her know, and he didn’t want to feel it a second time. Lifting his head from her hand, Brendan smiled a small smile that showed no teeth, and answered her. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He found her motherly instincts to be actually adorable. But he did flinch a little when she cleared his hair away from the bump he assumed to already be developing. The area around it was a little tender. Again though, he was a man. He wouldn’t let her know just how tender. “Though, I wouldn’t object to a kiss for my boo-boo.” Yes, he was kidding. But he wouldn’t object to it either. He is a shameless flirt after all.

Sitting up a little more, he laughed. “Yeah, I’ll get you a coffee. But I am not promise to not spike it. Because that’s just not fair. It’s like you don’t trust me!” And since this was their first meeting after all, he knew she probably didn’t have a full trust of him yet. Only a fool would. But he hoped that she would understand that he was only joking. Because he was quickly becoming fond of this girl. And wanted to bring her around the people he had made into his young family. Apparently this was a new thing of Brendan’s, collecting young people and making them his friends and family.

Taking her hand, Brendan laughed as he stood up. “What? Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Placing his finger underneath her chin, he smiled wide. “Obviously, I’m trying to make you want me, so I can seduce you, and make you mine dear girl.” Laughing more, he took his seat at their table again, watching for her reaction. “You expected an answer any different from a stranger in a café other than wanting to sleep with you?”

He would let her know eventually that he was kidding. But right now he was having a little too much fun with this.

[Victoire Lavergne]

~Here comes the next contestant~

Victoire really should have kicked him where it hurts for poking fun at her being unkind. Alas, it was too playful and she ended up jokingly rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue for a second, letting him know she completely could take a few shots to herself. She was slightly, pleasantly, surprised that Brendan could take a compliment so fluently. Typically a man of Brendan's attitude would step down at something so unfamiliar as a compliment, and would brush the compliment off, claiming it was nothing or some other nonsense, or so Victoire thought.

Now this latest eye roll of hers was utterly sarcastic. He expected her to kiss his 'boo-boo?' Where went being all manly, buff and impenetrable? And wow, good job Brendan, for your mental age just dropped another few years in Victoire's opinion. "Not in your dreams," She laughed with a smirk, though she lightly tapped his forehead where it was beginning to hurt. It was just for a little revenge and truly would only sting for a second, so she didn't feel too bad causing his pain, although there went her motherly aspect, much to her joy.

Ironically, even as Brendan mentioned it, Victoire did actually trust this guy to a large extent, more than she should. Being the type of person that you don't have to forge the trust with, just don't break it, is advantageous in the sense that there are less formalities and more people to do your 'dirty' work, but there are certainly times when the trust becomes misplaced.

Brendan spoke as he stood. He rose to his feet then placed a finger under her chin. Victoire wasn't sure to be taken aback by this or not. For now all it did was remind her how short she was. Here she was looking way up at a guy who was hardly average height for a guy. Not that she minded being shorter than guys. But it would be nice if they didn't have to bend over like they had a bisexual cell mate every time they wanted to kiss her. Oh, and it wasn't too great when she was pissed off, it made her seem like she was just having a hissy fit.

Again, Victoire wasn't sure if she should laugh or punch him for saying that he was trying to sleep with her. For starters she merely lifted her chin off of his finger, no longer a hundred percent at ease with it. She was about to open her mouth to reply when Brendan sat down and asked her a rhetorical question, you expected an answer any different from a stranger in a café other than wanting to sleep with you? Ouch. That stung. Probably a ton more than intended, if it was intended at all. Victoire paused, silent for a few moments, then, "I suppose not." She wasn't even sure if she was just going along with it or telling the truth.

She amended her previous statement, "It doesn't matter." Victoire joined Brendan, and sat across from him. Her arms were loosely folded as she was slightly leaned back in the seat.

Now that they were at a break, she had time to wonder what he actually did, did she actually peg him as an actor correctly? "So what have you been working as, if you aren't an actor?" She asked, genuinely curious. Heck, with how stereotypical of a topic this was, though, Brendan might just feel like he made a mistake mentioning sleeping with her. Was she just trying to get free food out of this now?

[Brendan James]

He’d been expecting her to say something in response. He had after all just implied she was mean. Which he didn’t she actually was. In all honesty, he was enjoying this! The back and forth they had going, it was making him smile. Obviously. Because almost immediately when their interactions had begun, a smile formed on his lips and it hadn’t left. The older man found people to be much too serious quite often. And that they needed a good dose of teasing and lightheartedness in their lives. Not this girl though. She was going right along with it. “And you say nothing? Nothing about how maybe if I were worthy of compliments it would’ve come sooner?” Still smiling he shook his head. “And here I hoped you were going to be the one to match me for wits and good looks.” Yes, in complimenting her, he was complimenting himself. He was also setting her up for a joke too. Now it was a new game to him, ‘see how long she can stand not making fun of him’.

And with her denying him his wish, Brendan’s expression turned to a pout. With his eyebrows pulled together, his eyes wider, and bottom lip sticking out, he was trying his best to look like a sad puppy. Of course, than she provided him with ample reason to continue. He’d flinched when she tapped his injury, but in all honesty it didn’t hurt too horribly. Just a bit of a sting. But he hammed it up ‘a bit’. “Owww!” He yelped, looking at her with his face reading ‘why’d you do that?’ Like I said, there was a reason to it. “Now you owe me a kiss to the boo-boo lady.” And he leaned his head closer to the girl, smiling and trying not to laugh.

After sitting in his seat, Brendan waved his arms around as if he were flying a plane. When he finally got the waitress’ attention, she came over to their table. “’ello mademoiselle, dis woman ehhh… She need another drink zank you.” He just hoped that Victoire wouldn’t throw him under the bus. Though, the bet they’d made would allow her to do just that if they wanted.

When the woman left, Brendan smiled at the girl. “I’m kidding of course. I have no intention whatsoever of sleeping with you.” This, he found, usually had one of two reactions from women, when he was in fact trying to sleep with them. One, they became defensive. They wanted to know what was wrong with them? Weren’t they good enough? Two, they simply walked away. Again, those reactions were only usually. He never put much stake in his observations, especially his observations of the opposite sex. However, this time he wasn’t just saying it. “Not that you aren’t beautiful. But I find the fact that most people think the only reason two people can start a good natured conversation in a public area is because one of them is looking to get some good ol’ sexing.” Yes, yes he did just say sexing. And it did make him giggle. “My real intentions of talking with you were just that. To talk to you.”

Now was a difficult question. “Well, I was the art teacher for awhile at Hammel Institute. Only for a very little while though.” A month to be exact. Which still made him rather sad. Even when he attended Hammel and was supposed to hate it, he loved it. It was such a big part of his life after all. And not only that, but to the very core of his heart, Brendan knew teaching had been his calling in life. What he had been meant to do. But he’d found something, or rather somebody, much more important.

“But now I’m a set designer. For the local theater. And the burlesque club.” He said with a smirk. Because not only did he build the sets for the club, he sometimes was a part of the show too. Which was thrilling and a different kind of experience all on it’s own. It made him happy in a different way than art had.

“What about you?” He realized though that his judgment for how old people were wasn’t good. And quite a few people already thought him… Creepy given recent events. So he also asked, “How old are you? I like to make sure the people I flirt with are at least of legal age.” At least now I do, he thought to himself. It’d been a close call, the incident. So he didn’t want to leave anything up to chance.

[Victoire Lavergne]

Did she just get told off for not telling him off? "I suppose you could say you were good looking..." Victoire pretended to agree with a nod. "if you were comparing yourself to an ogre." She winked and her tongue peeked out at him again. Though Brendan was going a little thick on compliments. He was like a bad chef that couldn't make a good sauce. Either the sauce was thick and overpowering or else it was the opposite, sour and tasteless.

She couldn't help but giggle at his goofy puppy-dog expression. And his overly-dramatic reaction to her soft taps. "I'll kiss your boo-boo when you learn to moonwalk," She countered. A bit of a work-reward. After a few moments of sitting back at the table Victoire managed to relax herself, body language lessening in intensity as she leaned forward slightly and propped her elbow on the table, placing her head on her hand as she gazed at Brendan.

Victoire bit her lip, trying to hold back yet another laugh as the mask of being a Frenchman was tossed up by Brendan again. She crossed her legs under the table, left over right, and kicked at Brendan's shin, punishing him for playing with the poor waitress. God, she was just beating him up today. Eh, he deserved it.

Now that the waitress left, the man across from her claimed he wasn't trying to sleep with her. Now, this obviously bugged her, but not because she was offended or disappointed, but because she simply didn't believe him and naturally, like most people, she didn't enjoy being lied to. "Rrrrright," Victoire said sarcastically, Brendan winning another eye-roll. She wasn't particularly amused.

Odd, she now found herself on the defensive side of 'ol' sexing.' "Maybe because sex is fun," Victoire reasoned. "Though personally I usually prefer guys who have big enough balls to be able to handle a boo-boo." She smirked. Now that is a shot below the belt. Literally. Wait. Or is that not literally? Huh.

As soon as Brendan mentioned he was an art teacher Victoire dug a pen out of her pocket and handed it to him. She then took off her left glove and set it on the table. She held out her hand and demanded, "Draw something." She was always curious around artists, being one of those annoying little kids always going 'whatcha doin'?' For her, though, 'set designer' wasn't one of those jobs that 'got her libido going.' He shoulda stuck as the art teacher.

Victoire didn't know to be offended or flattered by having her age questioned. "You know its rude to ask a girl her age," She said matter-of-factly. "But I work as a bartender/waitress sort of deal so I think you're safe... Mind you I prefer Aussie accents over your French"

[Brendan James]

Brendan couldn’t help but smile. She obviously underestimated his… Confidence? Though that hardly seems an accurate description for just how sure of himself he was. Clicking his tongue at Victoire in disapproval, he shook her head. “Oh my dear girl… I’m good looking compared to the statue David.” The older man wasn’t sure if she knew what he was talking about. It surprised him that not everybody knew what he was talking. He referenced the statue often when talking about his good looks strictly because people in the art crowd often viewed it as a nearly perfect specimen of the male form.

“And if you stick your tongue out at me, I’ll rip it out.” He said with a smirk and devious eyes. Like he was trying to make her believe he would do it, even though it was obvious he wouldn’t.

Work-reward? What the hell? Brendan was all about immediate gratification. It was that reason his pouting intensified with a quiet whimper. “No fair… Here I was, trying to bring you enjoyment and laughter and I become injured! Injured in an attempt to bring you joy. And you won’t even kiss it better.” Yes, he was all for the dramatics. But he blamed his career choice for that. “Tease.” He called her with a slight smirk to his lips.

An obvious flinching Bren brought a perplexed look to the waitress’s face. The man had to bite his cheek to keeping from yelping. But he did send her a sidelong glance as he used his own foot to try and nudge her leg back, a little more roughly than a nudge actually. But not too hard. She was a girl after all. Not that he was sexist, oh no. Trust me, nobody appreciated females more than Brendan. He thought women of all shapes and sizes were wonderful. He had two little sisters however. And he’d learned quickly that he had to be gentle with them.

“You don’t believe me…” Brendan shrugged his shoulders. “That’s understandable. I’m a big flirt, I know it. Not everybody believes me when I tell them I’m not trying to sleep with them. Does it help to know I’m in a committed relationship? With somebody that I adore?” Because he was. However, I would like to take a moment to point out he didn’t mention the one he was in a relationship with was a man. It wasn’t because he was ashamed. But, he imagined it’d be all too easy to define him as gay if he mentioned that. And more than anything, Brendan hated being ‘defined’. Also, he wasn’t quite sure what he was. If there was a sexuality strictly dedicated to Vincent, that’s what he’d be. In his opinion at least.

He began nodding in agreement immediately, obviously. This is Brendan after all. “You will never hear any argument from me. Sex is fun. Amazing. Glorious. Best feeling I’ve ever experienced.” He couldn’t help but laugh at what came out of he mouth next. About preferring her partners to have balls. And all he could do was smirk and think ’You aren’t the only one’

After have a beat he did manage to think of something else. “Trust me Victoire, my balls are plenty big enough.” Ew. Just… Ew.

Taking the pen, he laughed. It wasn’t a reaction that he had in a while. He did sometimes when he was younger and in high school or college, but not since. “Um… Ok. Anything in particular you’d like?” He asked, holding the pen to her hand. If she left it up to him, chances were she’d end up with something… very inappropriate on her arm.

With a smile, he leaned closer, mostly trying to get a better angle for the art that would soon dawn her hand. “As long as your legal darling.” Though being closer and saying that was an attempt to get their conversation to the lightheartedness it had earlier. “I’ll have to work on an aussie accent for you next time then.” There wasn’t really a question in there. He liked her. She was fun and entertaining. So he’d do what he needed to be done to spend more time with her. And Vin would get a kick out of her too.

[Victoire Lavergne]

Bite me. Victoire stuck out her tongue to spite him, with a raise of her brow as if to say, 'come at me, bro.' How could she be falling into this childishness now? Anyway, if he wanted to rip out her tongue he would have to do it with his teeth.

When she was once again accused, this time of being a tease, Victoire decided, well alright, if he wants to call me a tease then that is what I'll be. While she had been offering up her hand to be drawn upon she conveniently leaned forward, her v-neck slipping slightly off her breasts due to the lovely force of gravity. Just a lil' bit of cleavage to show. Victoire wasn't exactly worried, like her grade eight sex ed teacher had told her, "If a guy isn't checking out your breasts then he's gay or blind, in that order." And thus, you can pretty much stare at her chest without penalty.

As she knowingly showed off her assets Victoire declared, as if offended, "I am not a tease!" This time her tongue only peeked out at Brendan before she straightened her back, not wanting to seem a slut, despite how hypocritical that now seems.

"Ow," Victoire yelped. That bastard across from her kicked her! She glared, as if asking what that was for, because he had deserved her shots! That was mean, playing with the waitress' mind like that. "If I have a bruise you're the one who is going to be kissing the boo-boo," Victoire said, her glare turning back into the playful smirk that couldn't disappear around this man.

Woah, wait a second. Brendan only agreed with her about sex? Where was all the talk about being a sex god? The male Aphrodite, Cleopatra? Even virgin guys did that, right? And now it was funny that she called his balls prunes? Insanity. Once again she found herself leaning forward, but not to be a tease this time, but to mimic Brendan's prior actions. She whispered as if telling a huge secret. "Balls are supposed to be bigger than marbles."

Victoire paused for a second to think of what she wanted drawn. "Surprise me," She decided. "But I swear, if you draw a dick on me..." C'mon, she wasn't that dumb. Well, she was, sort of. Victoire had fallen for the old 'Pen 15' trick and the 'Pen Island' trick. Remember, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and... I'm an idiot.'

------------------

I hate this post. Like utterly. But I'm the type of idiot that won't redo anything. EVER.

[Brendan James]

When her tongue came out again, Brendan’s hand shot up and tried to grab a hold of it. “Hey now… I told you missy. Do not make me. I would hate for you to loose such a useful muscle.” He said with a smirk.

That’s it. Victoire is a huge flirt. The older man would never see her as anything else. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating what she had to offer. That’s right, he eyes went immediately to cleavage. And without shame. And he stared for a good long minute. Probably closer to two minutes actually. Then he looked up at her with a smile. “You, Victoire, are trying to get me into trouble. I just know it.” Then again, Bren often got into trouble all on his own. But he knew it wouldn’t be trouble that would make Vin break up with him. That wasn’t something he was willing to risk.

He had to laugh at that. “Not a tease?” With a smirk, he shook his head. “I’m not reprimanding you for it. Not at all. I love teases.” Pen in hand he began drawing on her arm. A line here, a line there. He wasn’t going to tell her what it was. It would a surprise. But nothing dirty. “Just keep in mind all the hopes you’re getting up and crushing. And don’t blame me when you get a stalker.” He said, looking up at her with a playful smile.

“Oui, muh love, I’d be more zen ‘appy to kiss any boo-boo of yours.” When the waitress walked away and disappeared, looking perplexed, Brendan smiled big. “See? I’m willing to kiss yours. You should only be so kind as to return the favor.” He began using the pen the draw put a few scribbles as shading around a few lines. “It’s the polite thing to do Victoire, to kiss my boo-boo. But at this point, my boo-boo is more my ego that you’re trying to crush little girl.”

He had to lift his pen. Brendan was simply laughing too hard. And he didn’t want to ruin his art. It took a minute, but he was finally able to compose himself. Looking her in the eye, he smirked. “Not only are mine bigger than marbles, but they’re not grossly big either. They are, without a doubt, perfectly sized.”

“It’s ok… I’m not drawing a penis. Though, if I were, it’d be mine and you’d be impressed.” He said with a big, cocky (Ha!) smirk. “And I hardly think I’m fooling you. If anybody is fooling anybody here, you’re fooling me. So there’s no chance of you looking like an idiot.” As he spoke, he turned his body as he continued drawing to get a better angle at her arm, leaning really very close to her arm to better focus on what he was drawing for her.