[h2][centre] [color=a2d39c]


[color=f6989d]Marinalia Romus Olympus "Mali" [/color][/color][/centre][/h2]
[h3][centre] [color=a2d39c]Footsteps Sports Bar Marinalia - wensday Afternoon [/color][/centre][/h3]


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[@Saarebas]


Marilania was a bundle at nerves at this situation and had CS spray hidden gin a pockets seconds away so anyone being idiot would quickly be more intrested in own burning face. Though hopefully she never had to test that principle and watched as the giant turned round to face her being surprisingly polite for a bunch of what looked like men who got dragged through razor wire hedges, ran over by a lawnmower and thrown out of a plane in the same weekend. Where they... Well where they a bunch of couples or friends, it was not always easy to tell. 

Apcepting the coffee pot and "Borrowing" a clean cup they not using at all and pouring it tinto a cup so she could drink it. It was cheeky but they had stole her coffee by acidiant. And no one wanted a  under cafinated woman running about. He had noted her wings and badges, they read like a story of her life somewhat ranging from Rome to Anchorage, Sol in fact was her first permanent contract she could remember having in her life, constantly bumping between places. It was fun, but she did admit it would be nice to stop and so at some point, make a real home bar the family Estate in England. It had been there home for generations now, it always would be home. 

With a glance of distinctly grey eyes, and sip of coffee savouring the blessings of the Caffeine God, she could reply now. She was a a little calmer though thr cut glass accent refused to leave. 

[i][color=f6989d]Not your fault, I just needed my coffee fix. Someone broke the machine at work... [/color][/i]

Adding with a slight shake of head, the plague of the uncafinated had been like a return of the living dead and she had done a "Test landing and revue of flight procedures" at the cargo office to get Caffeine and teach at same time.

Yep, a pilot for 9 years and now teaching for Deadlaus, the local major carrier. Sure she was only starting out there and doing basic flight for now mostly in helicopters as she had more experience flying in difficult conditions than others thanks to a stint in Alaska and others. 

[i][color=f6989d]Pilot, I love my job. Don t mind. 

I'm a flight instructor with a airline. Best office view in the world, i started as a teanager and never looked down. Took a lesson for fun and well.. Ended here. [/color][/i]

Feeling fairly cheerful at things and despite the nerves she did love her job utterly and felt a a little sad smwhen stuck on the ground for too long. The neat Deadlaus office uniform did kinda mean there was no point saying where she worked, the fitted skirts and jackets in the slightly more vintage airline style was seemingly popular with customers and they had kept it, same with the dark male suits and formal Airforce style hats for flight crew but that was preferences. She had to admit they looked handsome dressed up properly. The flight jacket was her thing though, a gift when she got her wings, it has never left her travels since. 

It was not always her normal wear for teaching but big wig days plus it was kinda nice looking good she had to admit. Even if flying in a skirt took some getting used to. 

[i][color=f6989d] Names Marinalia, but most call me Marlin. 

Thanks, I've been about abit. And I do have a scar to add to your strange game, but mine sadly ended my swim career early. And that's my little secret where boys. 

What you do bar acquiring other people's coffees and legandry labour's hercules? [/color][/i]

She was still nervous, but his look seemed genuine, and a quick glance at his eyes, well they where a window into soul and normaly told you instantly if someone was meaning ill or good. She normaly never admitted to her scar but well, Joel and all, new jobs, maybe she should apcept it happened more. It was not going away any time ever. A mugging gone wrong stopped her swimming career, and she was very good, still was just competive anymore. Almost fate had been kind as she found a second love of flying so that made her less sour about life, she had a new thing to make her happy and it had kept her happy. 

Her bag swinging off hook of her arm, and a coffee in hand she felt more like her self than the nervous wreck at first, these guys may not be as bad as they looked. Even if she gave one a slight glare and tut at someone singing " Come Fly with me". She was sure they could be more creative than that, low hanging fruit..