played by
Kileo
POSTS
212
awards
|
tired nostalgic
call me Joan
she / her
25 YEARS OLD
September
4
Virgo
North Bend, Washington
Demisexual
Waitress
TAG WITH @joannadyer
JOANNA DYER
yes I'm older, yes I'm moving on. and if you don't think it's a crime you can come along
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"]  [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
The brunette let out a pent up breath as she walked into the bar. She was a little out of her element, yeah that much was certain. Joan was used to just bumming around alone in her apartment when she wanted to get drunk, usually on cheap beer that she’d bought from the grocery store. But she’d been to a bar before, gotten drunk and done dumb shit. It hadn’t been that long since she’d gone out. Maybe a few months or something, she couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been. Work was killer, and whatever free time she had, was usually spent on her siblings and getting some decent sleep.
[break][break]
Joan had even managed to wrangle in her sister’s help with getting dressed. The little shit had been surprisingly helpful, and also annoying in trying to coax information out of her. But she had only told her younger sibling the bare basics; that she was going to a bar to meet a guy. Which… sounded more like a date the longer she thought about it, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, she looked pretty fucking good. Thanks to the very enthusiastic, but nosy efforts of her little sister. Nora had also wanted her to try makeup as well, but Joan had drawn the line at that.
[break][break]
Weaving her way through the crowd that populated the place, the brunette managed to find an open seat at bar and sat down. The music was a little too loud, but it wasn’t bad by any means. She just wasn’t used to it. Dark eyes flickered over the faces around her, until she saw the one she was looking for. Leaning over the counter a little, she held her hand up lazily and called out, “Wren!”
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|
|
played by
northy
POSTS
66
awards
|
Revolutionist
call me wren
he / him
26 YEARS OLD
August
18
leo
bentwood, alabama
bisexual
bartender
TAG WITH @wren
WREN POLLOCK
there's nothing else for me there at my door. all the people i know aren't who they used to be.
[attr="class","revolutionist"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"]  [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
When it comes to his job, Wren is much happier on the business side of the bar than he is out amongst the denizens of the dance floor, fighting through crowds of drunken bachelorettes and college athletes to get his orders delivered. He’s much happier lending that job to his coworkers, and although he sometimes feels bad about it, his sheer intimidation factor often lends itself as a useful tool for convincing his manager to keep him inside of the bar rather than traipsing around outside of it like some sort of wild-man hacking fronds of bamboo aside with a sharpened machete. On top of that, he’s much better at actually making the drinks than he is being a member of the waitstaff -- he’s far too impatient to deal with so many drunkards at once, and he’s got the best vantage point on the room when he’s stationed at the bar to begin with. Conversations happen quite easily for him when he’s taking orders and mixing drinks, and most of the individuals he ends up kicking out of the establishment in the first place tend to flock to the bar as opposed to the main floor.[break][break]
Generally, the individuals who stick to the bar are the ones who drink just a little more than they should. They shout at the football games on the television, they laugh and sock the shoulders of whoever’s sitting next to them, stranger or not. They’re generally pretty jovial, and it’s good entertainment for Wren on nights like this when the stream of customers doesn’t seem to be slowing down. Wren’s three hours deep into his shift, and although he runs a tight ship when he wears the title of manager, he’s definitely more lax on nights like these, where the music is high and the atmosphere of the bar is almost breathless. He’s moving carefully up and down the bar, smiling jovially, mixing drinks like it’s the only thing his hands have ever known -- the music is loud, the crowd is cheering for some baseball game above the bar, and Wren is just passing through, ticking the minutes down until he can go home and curl up in his bed and sleep the rest of the night away when a voice cuts through the din -- ”Wren!”[break][break]
His shoulders tighten instinctively, hands steady around the cocktail shaker he’d previously been using to fix a martini for the woman at the end of the bar. Nobody here but the waitstaff should know his name, right? Wren isn’t a local yet, not quite, even though he’s been working almost religiously at this bar ever since his arrival. He turns, expecting the worse -- Aggie, maybe? No, the voice down the way didn’t share that slow southern drawl that plagued the Pollock siblings. [break][break]
It’s her, Wren realizes belatedly. There, at the end of the bar -- the waitress from a few weeks ago. Joanna, he remembers. Joan. She’d promised to visit him at his work, and here she is, looking great, sitting at his bar and waving him over. Wren, try as he may, can’t fight the blush that crawls from the neck of his shirt up to his cheeks. His mouth tugs into a smile, dimpled cheeks and all, and he adjusts the bill of his baseball cap as he moves down the bar. ”Hey,” he says, ”Never thought you’d come. Can I get you anything?”
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|
|
played by
Kileo
POSTS
212
awards
|
tired nostalgic
call me Joan
she / her
25 YEARS OLD
September
4
Virgo
North Bend, Washington
Demisexual
Waitress
TAG WITH @joannadyer
JOANNA DYER
yes I'm older, yes I'm moving on. and if you don't think it's a crime you can come along
[attr="class","civilian"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
The tall man seemed pretty at home in the space, moving easily behind the bar amidst the music, drink orders and loud baseball fans. She’d had a peek at the screens as she’d walked in, and while she knew enough about baseball to watch it without getting bored, she wasn’t what one would call an avid fan of the sport. It probably had to be one of her favourites, out of everything else she’d watched and she couldn’t help but at least glance at the score and who was playing. Though, she quickly shifted her attention back to Wren. Neither of the teams were ones she knew very well, though there was a pretty big difference in the scores.
[break][break]
For a moment, she felt a little bad about pulling his attention away from everything, but it abated just a little when he came over to her.
[break][break]
“Hey, you.” Joan greeted, with a grin that slid on her face with surprising ease. It barely took a thought for the expression to shift onto her features, Wren was so cute and he seemed so happy to see her. That was definitely a good sign, right? She’d been a bit hesitant to come at first, worried that maybe she shouldn’t come. It’d been so long since she’d been to a bar and even longer since she'd been asked to go to a bar, that she hesitantly figured that -- yes – his smile and the adorable dimples were a good sign. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was technically a date. Hmm, probably not. Wren was working, so it probably didn’t count. Did she want it to? Her cheeks felt a little heated at the thought. Yeah, that was definitely a predicament for Future Joan to worry about.
[break][break]
She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head at him. “I promised I would.” And she always kept her promises. “I’ll just have a beer, thanks Wren.” She wasn’t quite adventurous enough to have a lot of knowledge about mixed drinks. Beer always did the job just fine, even if it sometimes didn’t taste great. Cider was pretty good too, she supposed.
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|
|
played by
northy
POSTS
66
awards
|
Revolutionist
call me wren
he / him
26 YEARS OLD
August
18
leo
bentwood, alabama
bisexual
bartender
TAG WITH @wren
WREN POLLOCK
there's nothing else for me there at my door. all the people i know aren't who they used to be.
[attr="class","revolutionist"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
Wren’s found that he can tell a lot about a person by what they order at a bar. As far as licensing goes, Ivy’s Tavern can serve just about anything a customer could want; and as far as being a bartender, Wren’s heard (and served) it all. It’s nice, really, to reach beneath the counter and produce a bottle of light brew with a cobalt blue paper label. He cracks the lid off with the lip of the counter and passes it to Joan, the blush coating his cheeks cooling a bit as he considers the fact that she’d showed up.[break][break]
She didn’t have to, right? She didn’t have to take the time out of her day to visit him at work, but here she is, blushing, laughing, dark eyes meeting dark eyes in the dim lighting of the bar. ”You look nice. I mean, uh.” He frowns, looking down at his hands (they suddenly seem too big, too clumsy, too calloused) as he scrambles for purchase on a statement he’s already regretting. ”Not that you don’t normally look nice. You do. You have. The, uh, times that I’ve seen you.”[break][break]
Here he is, smooth-talking, easygoing Wren Pollock, stumbling over his words just because a girl smiled at him. Aggie would laugh at him, call him a wuss, and have Joan seduced by the end of the night. So Wren tries to make a save--he smiles, gently, pushing a hand across the side of his head before shaking the jitters out of his hands. ”You didn’t take work off to see me, did you? I don’t wanna, uh, impose.”
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|
|
played by
Kileo
POSTS
212
awards
|
tired nostalgic
call me Joan
she / her
25 YEARS OLD
September
4
Virgo
North Bend, Washington
Demisexual
Waitress
TAG WITH @joannadyer
JOANNA DYER
yes I'm older, yes I'm moving on. and if you don't think it's a crime you can come along
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Reaching over to grab the beer he slid over to her, she idly tapped on the glass. “You look nice.” While Joan knew that to an extent -- her sister had insisted several times that she looked good, so she’d started to believe it as well -- it was still very nice to hear. She was going to thank him for the compliment, but she got a little caught up in his rush of words that came after. And she couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at him. “The other times you’ve seen me? When I was working?” She asked, incredulously. The doubt clearly came through her words as she tilted her head. While she was working, Joan wasn’t much to look at, at least in her opinion. Her uniform wasn’t what she’d call flattering either, an old thing that had seen much better days. She just thought she looked how she felt. Tired. Dead on her feet, maybe. She’d figured that was why Wren had offered to let her sit down with him at the diner that night.
[break][break]
Thinking back to their previous meeting made her want to smile. It’d genuinely surprised her, the offer to sit down with him and let him pay for any food that she wanted to order while she was there. It was sweet, which she was starting to realise might be a habit of Wren’s. Even though she suspected that he was just saying the compliment to be nice, his words didn’t sound insincere. More flustered, than anything else.
[break][break]
Watching him struggle, Joan couldn’t stifle the crooked smile that spread across her face. Leaning forward to perch her chin against a loosely curled fist, she finally decided to simply accept the flattering remark. “Thanks Wren.” She said softly – genuinely, before taking a generous sip of her beer. The taste was familiar and served to further relax her. Swinging a leg gently back and forth, she found her uneasiness of being in a crowded bar dissipate just a little. It was hard to feel nervous about all the people with Wren around. He was a big guy, but his large presence quickly put her at ease rather than intimidated her in any way.
[break][break]
Idly pushing a few strands of too-long hair out of her face, she perked up slightly at the sound of his voice. Wren? Imposing? That didn’t seem very likely. “No, no. Today was my day off, so it was the perfect time to come see you.” Joan paused to idly glance upwards and take note of the baseball game on the television above them as she spoke. “Besides,” She casually remarked, “I like you too much for you to impose. Believe it or not, coming to talk to you is the opposite of a chore. I’m more worried about distracting you while you’re at work.” The flash of a playful grin was brief across her lip, but stayed present in the dark brown of her eyes.
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played by
northy
POSTS
66
awards
|
Revolutionist
call me wren
he / him
26 YEARS OLD
August
18
leo
bentwood, alabama
bisexual
bartender
TAG WITH @wren
WREN POLLOCK
there's nothing else for me there at my door. all the people i know aren't who they used to be.
[attr="class","revolutionist"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
If Joan is trying to make Wren feel like a high-school boy with a crush, she’s certainly making quick work of it. Everything she does, every gesture, every word sends a swarm of butterflies lashing through his stomach. ”I’ve seen you enough,” He says with a smile. ”I’ve got material to work with.” A customer flags him down and he shoots Joan an apologetic glance before drifting down the bar. ”Can I get a napkin?” Asks the customer, and he wants to point at the napkin dispenser that sits about three feet away. He doesn’t, because he likes having a job, but when he returns to Joan he laughs with exasperation. ”Sorry,” he says. [break][break]
”Actually,” He starts, planting his hands on his hips. ”Give me one second.” Wren pulls the rag that had been hanging from his pocket and sets it on the countertop. Stepping farther down the bar, he flags down his coworker and lowers his head so he can be heard above the din of the bar. ”I’m clockin’ out,” he says. ”We’re overstaffed tonight anyway and I’m the manager so I won’t catch too much flack for it. You good to keep the bar goin’?” His coworker nods and gives him a thumbs up, to which Wren responds with a wide smile and a pat on the back. ”Thanks, man. I owe you.” [break][break]
Wren wipes his hands on his jeans, cashes out the rest of the customers on his tab, then steps around the bar and shakes out his legs. He makes it back to Joan in no time, and by the time he does, he extends a wide hand, a dimpled smile spreading across his features. ”It’s my day off, too. What a coincidence.” His voice is mischievous, and little by little, he can feel his confidence with the waitress growing. ”Although anyone who knows me would debate that, I think. That I’m fun to talk to. Hopefully I don’t scare you off too soon.” His hand closes around the waitress’s, and he hopes (hopes!) he isn’t being too forward too soon. ”Can’t distract me if I’m not working.” He adds with a shrug and a smile.
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played by
Kileo
POSTS
212
awards
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tired nostalgic
call me Joan
she / her
25 YEARS OLD
September
4
Virgo
North Bend, Washington
Demisexual
Waitress
TAG WITH @joannadyer
JOANNA DYER
yes I'm older, yes I'm moving on. and if you don't think it's a crime you can come along
[attr="class","JOANCOLOUR"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"] [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
Really now? He had enough ‘material to work with’ huh? This man… he really knew how to flatter someone. She could only imagine what he’d be like if he actually tried to flirt with someone. She waved the customer’s interruption off lazily, “It’s all good.” He was at work after all, she could hardly get upset when she knew he’d be busy. Honestly, she’d mostly expected to spend the majority of the night alone, only catching Wren every time the demand for drinks slowed a little, to chat for a bit before he had to be off again. That’s the kind of night she’d been prepared for, at least. So, when he excuses himself, she accepts without a fuss. “Oh? Okay,” She said easily, watching as he walked off.
[break][break]
Left to her own devices, Joan took a slow swig from her beer. The din of the bar was back to being just a little too loud without the presence of the cute bartender to distract her, and she paused to peer around the place. Seeing a pair of eyes trained on her, the brunette’s gaze immediately narrowed without much thought being put into the action. And only when the guy staring at her quickly averted his eyes, did she relax again. She took another drink and tried to catch sight of Wren again. He’d said he’d just be a second, but he was working so she wasn’t sure how long he’d take.
[break][break]
Joan did spot him again, but he wasn’t behind the bar. Dark brows shooting up to her hairline, the brunette couldn’t hide her surprise. Did he just- he did. Wren had really just clocked off work, right then and there. Holy shit. It seemed that Wren surprising her was something she was going to have to expect, because he hadn’t stopped doing it since she’d met him. ”Can’t distract me if I’m not working.” For a moment, she was actually speechless. Then she couldn’t help it. A loud burst of laughter escaped her, short and sweet. It was a genuine sound, full of surprised amusement. Joan grinned at him. “You got me there.”
[break][break]
While a flustered, blushing Wren was definitely sight to behold, how the man looked with a dimpled grin on his face was dangerous. Being that confident with a face like that should be illegal, under the grounds that was potentially dangerous for everyone’s health. Joan knew that there were plenty of people who probably would’ve swooned after simply witnessing Wren’s smile, never mind being the object of his attention. And his flirting, well… Joan peered down at the hand clasped around her own. She chose not to move it. Her hand was fine where it was. “Well, you haven’t scared me off yet. So, I think you’re good.” She tilted her head, leaning forward slightly to ask, “What do you wanna do now that you’re so conveniently free?”
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played by
northy
POSTS
66
awards
|
Revolutionist
call me wren
he / him
26 YEARS OLD
August
18
leo
bentwood, alabama
bisexual
bartender
TAG WITH @wren
WREN POLLOCK
there's nothing else for me there at my door. all the people i know aren't who they used to be.
[attr="class","revolutionist"] [nospaces] [attr="class","rcposting1top"] [attr="class","rcposting1img"] [attr="class","rcposting1img2"]  [attr="class","rcposting1mid"]
Now that’s a hell of a question, huh? Wren hadn’t really thought any of this through. He’s never been the impulsive type of the family. Kather plans everything to a tee--and in contrast, his little sister Aggie hardly plans anything at all. Wren falls in a sort of happy middle--middle son, middle sibling, middle everything. Wren’s fine with structure, and for the most part he tends not to be too impulsive. But this--this, more than anything--is stretching Wren’s limits. It’s strange, really, how quickly he’s willing to step out of his own comfort zone for Joan. Maybe it’s just him feeling a genuine attraction (platonic, romantic) towards someone for the first time in what seems like years. Maybe it’s the the low lighting, maybe it’s the heavy thump of music that Wren can feel in his feet. [break][break]
But at least, he thinks. At least he made her laugh. [break][break]
He guesses that maybe it’s the volume of the bar that makes her lean towards him, using proximity to be heard over the din, but it sends his hands tingling anyway and he takes a few steps back, sheepish smile overtaking tanned features. ”I didn’t have anything planned.” He admits, tilting his head. After a moment, he adds, ”You wanna go outside so we aren’t shouting?” He asks, and without waiting for much of an answer, he begins to head towards the door, clapping the doorman on the shoulder jovially as he passes. [break][break]
Once they’re outside and Wren can hear himself think again, he turns and tucks his hands into his pockets, blinking slowly as the cool night air stings his face and dries the sweat that had been gathering at his temples. [break][break]
”I’d suggest going to get something to eat, but I think we’ve already done that once.” He says with a wink. ”I’m still new in town, so I don’t really know what there is to do. You got any ideas?”[break][break]
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