|Ashley Graham|| It's that odd time between afternoon and evening. That time when the hotel bar is just now opening, but there's no one really here yet. Just a little too early for the hubub, but it's in the mail. In the next hour a few lost souls will trickle in, then a few groups, until finally the place will be hopping.
One of the first few patrons here is Former President Graham's only child, Ashley Graham. She's sitting at the bar, drinking what could be anything from a vodka tonic to a club soda to a sprite, garnished with lime. Her lovely platinum hair has been left down today, falling in full, natural straightness. She wears little makeup on her porcelain face, save for a bold red lip. Her nails are painted freshly, a light pink with french tips.
Her dress is a black fit and flare dress, sleeveless and with a high neck. However, it is decorated by delicately embroidered white flowers gathered at the waist, and sprinkled up and down in a simple yet dramatic effect. She has black-and-white wingtip heels on, and pearl studs in her ears.
She seems idle, just now, looking this way and that as people pass through or up at the television sometimes which plays the news. CHARGES AGAINST PRESIDENT GRAHAM? the headline reads, and she purses her lips softly.
"Can you turn on sports or something, please?" she asks the tender, quietly and delicately.
"What sport, ma'am?"
"Any sport." And since it's April that ends up being baseball.
|Ares Buchanan||It really isn't a surprise to see Ares wander into the bar at opening, he's been drowning his sorrows both here and at the Kush Club since he evacuated from the city. For what it's worth he's still found the time to dress up, sporting a black dress shirt and slacks.
He takes a moment to look around the bar, gaze eventually falling on Ashley. Naturally he heads that way, coming up beside her and offering a slight wave, "Howdy, howdy. This seat taken?" She may recognize him as being the man who brought food to the church, he's even sporting a cast on the arm that the Major set.
|Chris Redfield||Chris Redfield walks into the hotel bar, glancing around as he enters and heads over to the bar sliding into a seat a few down from Ashley. He's almost unrecognizeable in his civillian clothes for those that have only seen him during a mission but he does have some rather distinctive features, mainly that stoic looking face of his. But he resembles your typical jar head or jock for the most part.
Right now he's wearing a brown bomber style leather jacket, a white collared shirt, khaki pants and black dress shoes. He looks at the bartender after he's addressed Ashley, "Afternoon. I'll have a water to start and may I see a menu? Thanks." Chris glances up at the television screen, seeing the newscast about President Graham's possible charges.
Chris shakes his head slightly and nods to the bartender when he gives him a tall glass of water and a menu. "Cheers."
The bartender gives Chris a polite smile, "Not a problem. Let me know if you have any questions about the menu." He then grabs the remote and starts changing the channel upon Ashley's request to a baseball game.
Redfield, then glances over towards Ares as he walks up to Ashley asking her if the seat is taken, he moves slightly to look past Ares, not recognizing the man but the girl does look somewhat familiar but he doesn't want to interrupt their started conversationo and then goes back to watching the basebeall game.
|Ashley Graham|| If Ashley looks slightly familiar to Chris, he doesn't get any look of recognition from Ashley. Merely a quick turn of her gaze as he enters and sits, and a polite yet warm smile for the stranger. But then she's distracted by Ares when he comes in, looking over to him. Him she knows she recognizes from somewhere, someplace, sometime. Her big blue eyes watch the man for a few moments, a scrutinizing look on her features. She's not trying to hide the fact that she knows him from someplace, but is just trying to figure out where.
"The church," she finally settles on, looking down at his cast and then up at his face again. "You were the one who told me to come to the truck stop if I needed help," she says, her voice softening at the memory. A small kindness in a time where there were so few of those. Her gratitude shows on her features.
"I'm so sorry, I don't remember your name."
|Ares Buchanan||"Ares, Ares Buchanan." Ares gives his head a slight shake, "Not a problem. I'm not too memorable." He looks further down the bar, noticing Chris. His brow furrows slightly, clearly trying to tell if he recognizes the man or not. Regardless he offers a slight nod before turning back to his conversation.
"Glad you made it out. Sorry I wasn't too much help, got stuck with ah bum arm. Can't even spar right now, doc's orders." He gives his broad shoulders a shrug, before beckoning the bartender over, "Bourbon on tha rocks, if you don't mind."
|Chris Redfield||Chris studies the menu, he doesn't intentionally want to overhear the conversation between Ashley and Ares, but he's sitting near to them so it's fair game.
He takes a sip from his glass of water and waves the bartender over after deciding on what he wants, "I'll have the chicken sandwich, grilled and with the side order of the caesar salad. Thanks." The bartender nods to Chris, "You got it. Did you decide on a drink order? We have several beers on tap if that's your thing." Chris considers it for a moment but then shakes his head.
"Water is fine for now. I've got this damn report I have to write up anyways, but thanks." He looks over at Ares giving the man a polite nod in return, then glances up at the tv screen as the Yankees just scored a run against the Mariners. "Yes! Nice hit by Jeter." The bartender grins, "Yankees fan, eh? You shouldn't say that so loud in this bar, buddy." Chris cracks a slight grin, saulting the bartender with his glass of water. "Yankees fan for life, can't help myself but thanks for the tip." He goes back to watching the game and glances towards Ashely one more time, finally recognizing the President's daughter when he hers her voice.
|Ashley Graham|| When Chris makes a small noise of pleasure at the Yankees, Ashley turns her head toward him. Not because it's the Yankees, but simply because it's the noise. Her head nearly snaps around, as though she'd been grabbed or startled. And, for a brief moment, she looks a touch startled. But then her features melt into that warm, polite smile again, and she returns to her conversation. Only her slightly elevated heartrate indicates any change in her.
"You were a stranger offering another stranger shelter and safety in a time of desperate need, with some risk to yourself," Ashley points out to Ares, arguing with him just a little on some point or another. "That's exceptionally memorable. As it should be." Her smile for him has the same warmth that the one for Chris did, but this one is more personable, it reaches her eyes. "I am truly grateful for your kindness, sir."
"And I'm Ashley," she goes on. "I think I introduced myself as Ashley Swann," because Leon made a bad joke and the nome de plume stuck. "But it's Ashley Graham." You know, like President Graham. "And I cannot express how lovely it is to meet you again in such better circumstances."
|Ares Buchanan||Realization dawns on Ares, and his jaw goes slightly slack. "That's where I recognized you from, the inauguration. Well, it's good to actually meet you then, Ashley." He quickly collects himself and offers a pleasant smile, "Oh, I'd been meaning to ask. While you were there did you happen to run into a Sherry Birkin or Claire Redfield? They're friends of mine that I haven't seen since before the outbreak happened."
Then the drink is sat in front of him and he gives a thankful nod before promptly taking a drink. "Also, I was just doing what anybody would. Well, should. Done ah lot of bad in the past, figure I could make up for it."
|Chris Redfield||Chris takes another sip of water and sets the glass down on the bar as he continues to watch the game with interest. The Yankees have one on, Jeter at first base, two out and Alex Rodgriguez is at the plate with a 1-0 count.
If he noticed Ashley's odd behaviour to him commenting about the Yankees he doesn't show it and who's parents let a high school student into a hotel bar this late in the afternoon dressed like that anyways. He certainly wouldn't even feel comfortable with his sister being in here let alone some kid.
But when Ares mentions Claire Redfield, he turns his head to look towards the man studying him for a moment.
He doesn't comment for now though, since he doesn't want to be considered some eavesdropper. He knows his sister is safe, he was there when he rescued her after all.
Chris then glances up at the baseball game and shakes his head when Alex Rodriguez swings at a bad pitch, for strike one.
|Ashley Graham|| "I'm fairly well-acquainted with Miss Redfield," Ashley says to the affirmative. She stirs the straw in her soda thoughtfully. "And she and I left on the same helicopter. I don't know Miss Birkin, though. I can say that we had quite a group with us, at the church, and she was not among them."
The blonde brings the glass to her lips, taking a little sip through the straw. Then she moves her eyes back to Ares, curiously. "When you say sparring, do you mean fighting? Are you a soldier, or something similar?" Because who else would practice fighting other than soldiers and cops?
|Ares Buchanan||"I spent a lot of time with her and her girlfriend, that'd be Sherry, before the outbreak. I can't think of a reason they'd be apart, she was always at her house when we'd hang out." Ares reaches up to rub at the back of his head, looking worried. "I hope she's alright."
"No, I was a courier of sorts. A transporter if you'd want to call it that. Sometimes people would want to steal what I had, so sometimes I had to fight. Only reason I managed to get out with a broken arm rather than ah bite." he explains, lowering his voice a bit more.
|Chris Redfield||Chris Redfield continues to watch the baseball game, then the bartender walks over with a plate of food putting it in front of him. "Thanks." he says politely to the bartender when his grilled chicken sandwich with ceasar salad is set down.
The bartender nods with a polite smile. "Enjoy. Is there anything else you need?" Chris shakes his head. "Nope. All good." Redfield then unrolls the napkin containing the utensils, picking up the fork and starts eating his salad first.
He momentarily glances over towards Ares, when the man lowers his voice to talk about something to do with transporting and then turns his attention back to the baseball game. He can't really see Ashley since Ares is sitting in between them anyways.
|Ashley Graham|| "Oh," Ashley says, in a slightly surprised tone. It's a common tone, when someone's sexual orientation turns out to be different than expected. Not judgy, just surprised. "Oh, no. She wasn't with us." The lovely blonde frowns. "That doesn't bode well for her, does it? I hope she got out earlier, somehow. Maybe she was wise to what was about to happen, or went to visit family. We can only hope and pray." She sighs, looking down into her club soda before she gives it another sip.
"Can you explain that to me a bit further, sir? Transporter? I'm not familiar with the term." All the criminals that Ashley knows are strictly white collar.
|Chris Redfield||Chris Redfield alternates from his salad, to his grilled chicken sandwich and takes a few bites. Chewing with a deliberate pace as he savours the taste. Most ex-military are fast eaters, but not him which is surprising considering he is known as a man of action.
On the television, Alex Rodgriguez has 2-2 count, the pitcher winds up, throws and Alex swings for the fences. With a resounding crack of the bat, the ball sails into the upper deck for a 2 run home run and the often maligned third basemen trots around the bases rather arrogantly, then high 5's Jeter when he stops on home plate.
Chris puts down his chicken sandwhich, finishes chewing and takes a sip of water as he watches the crowd going wild at Yankee Stadium. The only reaction to the homerun is a small fist pump and then he goes back to eating his salad.
The bartender looks up at the screen then over to Chris, "I hate that guy so much. But hell of a player." Chris glances over to the bartender, putting his fork down on the plate and finishes chewing before he answers. "Yeah, I wasn't too thrilled myself when the Yankees signed him but he's good I'll give him that. Don't like his attitude though. In the bronx, if you did that during a pick up game they would have beaned ya, beat the tar outta ya and that taught you respect. I know, got my lumps and I'll never forget."
|Ashley Graham|| Before Ares can answer, he has to step away for a phonecall. That leaves Chris and Ashley at the bar.
She turns to watch the Redfield and the bartender in their little banter, but from the look on her face it means very little to her. Without much else to do she turns her eyes to the television set, watching as she listens to them describe the background of the teams and the players. Yeah, no. Means nothing to her.
At least there's more club soda! The bartender is kind enough to come over and offer the woman a refill. "For what it's worth," he tells her quietly. "I don't blame your father for all this." And then he goes back to his business, prepping for a busy night and talking smack with Chris about some sort of sport ball players.
|Chris Redfield||The bartender grins at Chris's explaination of the bronx inner city baseball culture and replies, "Just cause you make millions of dollars to play a game it shouldn't really change how they play the game." Then he leaves to look after Ashley's order.
Chris nods to the bartender, watching Ares get up from his bar stool to take a phone call, leaving him with a clear view of Ashely as she gets a refill for her club soda.
Upon hearing the bartender commenting about Ashley's father, he pipes up to add a comment so he isn't interrupting or cutting somebody off when they speak. "Yeah, it isn't fair what happened to him. Please send your father my regards when you see him." He isn't sure if Ashley recognizes him, but his words are said with genuine sympathy.
|Ashley Graham|| Ashley, sitting at the bar in her tres cool dress (http://www.modcloth.com/shop/dresses/self-made-majesty-fit-and-flare-dress) is sipping a club soda. She turns her face to look over Chris, once more taking in his features. But she doesn't give any outward sign of recognition. Perhaps, without the uniform, she doesn't know the man. Perhaps the stress of the extraction means she doesn't recall him. Perhaps she's a good actress.
Either way, she smiles a grateful smile to Chris when he speaks. "Thank you," she says, her voice dripping with honest appreciation. "I certainly will. It's a more horrible situation than anyone could ever imagine, and he's such a good man." Her tone oozes with emotion. She doesn't ask his name, though. Perhaps she's used to people saying such things as 'give your father my regards' without ever knowing whose regards she's passing on. Still, she seems grateful for Chris' words.
|Chris Redfield||Chris Redfield is sitting at the bar, one seat in between him and Ashley. There is a plate in front of him with a half eaten grilled chicken sandwich and a little bit of caesar salad left. He's dressed in a brown leather jacket, white collared shirt, khaki pants and black dress shoes. For the very observant, they might notice just a slight bulge near the back of his jacket by his waist in two areas which is only visible when he leans over slightly.
He nods to Ashley after her polite reply and goes back to finishing off his salad, while watching the Yankees vs Mariners game on the tele. Yankees are up 4 to 1 in the 3rd inning after the home run by Rodgriguez.
|Ares Buchanan||After a moment or so has passed, Ares returns to take his seat and his drink. "Sorry about that, Waffle House called. They were letting me know that while they appreciated my interest, they didn't need any more cooks." He grunts at that, taking the rest of his bourbon. "If I wasn't a felon I'd join the force. Be nice to do something other than flip burgers and make hash browns for a change."|
|Ashley Graham|| As Chris has nothing to add, Ashley's eyes flit back to Ares at his return. She seems a little surprised and perplexed by his words. It takes a minute to fully process them. "Oh," she says gently. "I'm sorry that didn't work out for you. But truly, G-d has a plan for us all," she assures him with a touch of a smile. Because no one becomes President of the United States without something of a religious upbringing.
Ashley twists her wrist then, checking her watch. "If you'll excuse me," she says apologetically to Ares. "I have an appointment, I have to run. I do hope we run into each other again though, while we're both here," she says with a smile of encouragement. "Really, sir, you do have my deepest thanks for your kindness in the worst of things."
|Jill Valentine||Jill stepped into the hotel bar after a good night and part of a day's rest in a nice comfortable bed; the clothing she had escaped with exchanged for a slinky black dress and a pair of heels which ended up on her 'must pack' list when she was trying to escape.
Seriously, you never know when you need a little black dress and heels.
Walking through the crowds towards Chris, she rested a hand gently on his shoulder before sliding onto the stool between him and Ashley just as the other woman was leaving, "Hey Chris."
|Chris Redfield||Chris feels a hand on his shoulder, turning around and cracks a smile when he see's that it is Jill. "Hey. I didn't know if you were still asleep so didn't want to bother you." He motions to the empty bar stool beside him. "Care to join me?"
He then looks over towards Ashley as she gets up to leave, nodding to her politely and then turns back to Jill, his eyes widening a bit when he notices what she is wearing.
"Wow, Valentine. I feel kind of under dressed now." He tries hard not to stare, even though he's stoic by nature, cool under fire and has been dropped into hot zones full of zombies, he's still a man damnit. So yeah, maybe his jaw dropped just a little for half a second but he recovers quickly and takes a sip of water to hide any gawking.
|Ares Buchanan||"Alright Ashley, you stay safe out there." Ares offers her a wave, waiting for her to head out before slumping his shoulders and finishing off that bourbon. "Think I'll need another, when you can." he informs the bartender. First zombies, now rejection from an entry level job.|
|Jill Valentine||"It's fine." Jill smiled at Chris as she set down beside him, on the other side since Ares had swooped in to take the other stool, "And I'd love to." She said as she took a seat and crossed her right leg over the left swiftly, wondering if she should even be drinking after her ordeal.
When the Bartender approached she just ordered a Coke before looking back at Chris, "You don't look so bad yourself, for a dead man."
Turning her attention towards the game, she asked casually, "Whose winning? Five bucks on whoever isn't."
|Chris Redfield||Chris takes another long gulp from his water as Jill sits down beside him, with now Ares on one side while his partner on the other. "Good." He slides the menu that he had over to her, "Here have a look. Chicken sandwich is pretty good." He takes a bite of it and chews before speaking again as he glances at the tv screen to catch part of the baseball game.
"Touche. I'll fill you in on more details soon. I promise." He isn't going to hold anything back from his partner, not after what they've been through but it is hard to talk about his reasons.
Chris glances over at Ares after Ashley has left the man alone, "Oh, I'm Chris by the way. I heard you mentioning my sister, Claire. You said you know her?" He then turns back to Jill, showing her that infamous grin of his.
"Betting against my Yankees. Your on. To be fair though, my team is up by three runs already and even though Seattle has Ichiro, I'm not sure it will be enough to stop the evil Empire." He gives her a small wink and puts his sandwich down, not wanting to finish it before Jill orders her own food.
|Ares Buchanan||Ares Buchanan perks up a bit, attention shifting back over to Chris. "So you're Chris then. Ares Buchanan," he extends a hand, "good to finally meet you. I worked at the Waffle House in Raccoon City, met your sister there. She mentioned you a few times." He straightens up a bit, probably in an attempt to not look like a sad drunk.|
|Jill Valentine||Jill eyes Chris' chicken sandwich and the menu she had just been handed, she wasn't just the master of unlocking; she was also the master of swiping. Setting the menu down when Ares and Chris begin to chat, she reaches over and snags Chris' chicken sandwich and begins to nibble at it.
"You're right, the chicken sandwich IS pretty good. Thanks for the recommendation, partner." Jill laughed and leaned down to take a sip of her recently brought over coke before eyeing the tv screen.
It's not like she would have paid the bet anyways, it was just nice to be out of the horror of Raccoon City pretending things were normal...
|Chris Redfield||Chris reaches out to grab the extended hand of Ares, giving the transporter a firm handshake. "That's me. Chris Redfield. Nice to meet you Ares. I'll let Claire know that I bumped into you. She's been busy, resting up mostly but she's doing well considering." He then turns back to his food, but realizes that he's too late. It has been swiped by the master!
Sighing, he picks up his water glass and gives Jill a small salute. "I'm glad you like it." He waves over the bartender and grins at Jill's thievery. "One order of buffalo chicken wings. Extra hot." He glances playfully towards Jill and shakes his head at her.
He then starts to chuckle and looks up at the tv screen once more to check the score as the Mariners have just scored one making it 4 to 2. Oh no, he takes bets seriously so if he not only lost his sandwhich and five bucks, then he might order a beer to drown his misfortune. "Glad to see the old you is back." He adds dryly.
|Ares Buchanan||"I appreciate it." Ares turns back to his drink, picking it up and taking a sip. As Chris and Jill start talking again it's his turn to sit in silence. His attention shifts up to the television as well, though he never really cared for sports, so he's soon looking at the different bottles instead.|
|Jill Valentine||Jill looked between the two men, wondering how Ares knew Chris' little sister. Maybe the talk of her being a bit of a wild child biker girl were not all that exaggerated she thought to herself as she nibbled on the surprisingly good chicken sandwich.
"Buffalo wings sound good to, it's like you read my mind." Jill said as she nudged Chris with her arm, curiosity getting the better of her as she asked Ares, "Hey. How do you know Claire Redfield by the way?"
|Chris Redfield||Chris nearly spills his glass of water, when Jill nudges him as she speaks to Ares. Then the phone rings and he pulls it out to look at the number on the display. "Sorry, gotta take this. It's Zima." He excuses himself, turning to Jill for a second. "Help yourself to the chicken wings, I'm sure you would have anyways." He gives her a wink then nods politely to Ares as he leaves.|
|Ares Buchanan||"Oh," Ares straightens up a bit, looking over to Jill as Chris leaves. "Through a mutual friend. She showed up to meet her at the Waffle House as I was getting off, so I stopped and talked for a bit. She's a good kid, glad she made it out alright." He finishes off that bourbon as well, then fishes out his wallet to pay for everything. "You were a cop, right?"|
|Jill Valentine||Jill finished off the chicken sandwich and nodded to Ares, "Yeah, I think I've seen you around the truck stop before." She had gone to visit Daryl at least a few times at the motel and given Ares worked at the Waffle House, and lived near-by the world was smaller than it seemed, "Glad to see you made it out alive."
Putting a hand on her stomach and looking ill for some reason, she said softly, "Excuse me, it was nice to meet you." She rushed off in the direction of the bathroom!
|Ares Buchanan||"That'd be it." Ares replies. He simply offers a wave as Jill stands up and rushes off. After a moment he pushes up and wanders off, presumably to smoke. "Maybe I'll just go back to bein' a courier."|