Though she wasn’t the type to start trouble of her own accord – in fact, back home she had always gone out of her way to avoid it – she had to admit, she sort of admired the man in front of her. Anyone who was willing to take on that amount of men by themselves, and to continue to antagonise them as long as was humanly possible, had to be applauded in some way. “I’m running for cover, yeah, but as long as there’s a clear view of you guys – you know, to get it on camera and upload to YouTube? - I’ll be good.,” she replied, her eyes roaming around the bar in an attempt to find the perfect space. Pointing underneath the booth she had left mere moments before. “There’s a good enough angle, I’d say. Enough to get you all in, at least…” Wrinkling her nose, Olivia shook her head. Vicious wasn’t really a word that was used to describe her though she could see why he thought so – she had just threatened to take out his knees, of course. “Only when provoked,” she assured him, a small smile creeping onto her face. “That’s way too girly. I don’t do clawing. Biting? Yes. Clawing? No.”
It was always a good sign when you didn’t have to watch your every word, panicking over how lame you sounded – something which she had done for as long as she could remember back in Bangor – and Olivia found herself laughing, not quite believing that she managed to find another person who was just a little bit weird within a week of being in her new town. “I like to be of service,” she replied solemnly, eyeing his drink. “I’ve seen too many puny guys like you lay out a whole group and it just…it never ends well.” Puny wasn’t quite the word to describe the man – in fact, he was far from it – but he seemed like the sort who could take a joke and, well, she didn’t have much to tease him on besides the mild suicide wish he seemed to have. “You know, next time I’m going to have to let you follow through – just to see how good this strategy really is. If it works, I’ll help you market it. Not sure who would ‘buy’ it exactly but we’ll make you a fortune. Maybe put you into boxing. With me taking a cut, of course…” If truth be told, she had to make a joke out of it; like she’d said, she really wasn’t sure if he was being dark and truly did want to get beaten up or if it was all a joke to him as well. Though she wasn’t keen to go around complimenting people, it had to be said that Woody was one of the more memorable characters she’d met so far and, throwing comments and free drinks at her, she could hardly say it was for bad reasons. “You are a delight, shut up,” she grinned, nudging him a little. “Unless John comes back, in which case you paid me to jump in.”
Rolling her eyes, Olivia shook her head. “What? They’re going to send me back to Bangor? I don’t think so – I’m the only superhero this town has,” she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a fake pout. “My license is irrevocable after everything that happened in North Dakota. But I’m not allowed to talk about that.” Extending her hand to shake his, Olivia nodded. “Same to you. And, for the record, it totally is a cool nickname. Better than Livvy.” As the barman disappeared, the brunette snorted, desperate not to laugh at him; she hardly wanted to piss off the only bartender she knew on her second trip to his bar, after all. “I’m totally sure you can get past the whole being straight thing. That’s only like a teeny tiny factor after all, right?” Taking freebies wasn’t something Olivia was all that keen on but when they were so freely offered, she definitely couldn’t say no. “Only if you have a couple of fries too…” She muttered, reaching out for her drink eagerly and taking a small sip. “Um, my dad’s business started expanding so we needed bigger premises and the only place decent was out here. We’re staying up near the farm.”
Woody laughed, liking the lightness of the young woman’s words and tone. He wasn’t used to strangers joking about his behavior with him, he was more used to them yelling at him, calling him stupid, reckless or asking awkward questions, he never had the answers to. So, the joking back and forth was a nice changed for him. “Sounds like a plan to me,” He said, with an easy grin. “Now make sure when the fight starts to get my good side, you know, before they knock my teeth out and I lose it.” He said, with a laugh. Following her finger to a booth, Woody nodded. “That’s a pretty good spot, but I would shoot from behind the bar myself. I mean, yeah, you gonna have to look out for flying bottles and maybe a guy or two. But shoot it that close and it will feel like you’re in the action.” He told her, pretending to know what he was talking about. Woody laughed, liking the quickness of the remark. “Well, I’ll make sure to stay on your good side than.” He said, smiling. Woody pulled a face, putting his hands up. “How is clawing girly?” He asked, jokingly. “Clawing is like my main move, when I’m in a fight and I’m not sure if you can tell, but I’m like super duper masculine.”
Woody listened to her, leaning on the bar, his grin slowly growing. It wasn’t often Woody met people who could hang with him humor wise, most tended to take themselves too seriously. He was used to people thinking he was an idiot or obnoxious, so it was refreshing that the girl laughed and was funny herself. He laughed. “Well, I got more than enough muscle to handle anyone who acts a fool.” He said dryly, kissing one bicep, than the other. He laughed, flashing her another grin. “I’m not sure it’s something you can teach or sell, man. The only reason it works for me, is because I spent my whole life getting the shit kicked out of me. That’s the first thing you gotta learn and that’s a fucking hard thing to teach, most people don’t want to get beat up. It’s a special kind of idiot to be willing to get their ass kicked to prove a point, like myself.” He said, putting a hand to his chest, with a small grin. “I am a delight, thank you.” He said, pretending he hadn’t been the one to say it first. He laughed. “No, if he comes back. I’m telling him the pretty lady hiding under the table,” He said, pointing to the booth she had earlier. “Filming, put me up to the hold thing.”
“That or we burn you at the stake.” He said dryly, with a shrug. “It’s an old law, a little out of date for my taste.” Woody said, keeping the joke going. “But what can you do? It’s the law. Doesn’t matter if you’re a superhero, honey. The law is quite clear.” Leaning on the bar, Woody laughed. “Isn’t mentioning the fact you can’t talk about it, talking about it?” He asked, grinning at her. He shook her hand and shrugged. “Livvy isn’t that bad. At least every other person doesn’t ask if you have a snake in your boot or where your friend Buzz is.” He told her. “But, that said. I’ve always liked Woody myself, man.” He sipped his beer and then grin at her, the joke already coming to him. “Well, according to the women I’ve spoken to about Greg, it’s not a ‘teeny tiny’ factor I’m going to have to get over.” He said dryly, with a toothy grin. “Okay , but only a few. I need to watch my figure, if I’m ever going to win Greg’s heart.” He said, putting a hand to his chest, with a playful smile. “Isn’t that right, Greg!” He called down to the bartender, who just ignored him. “He loves me, he just doesn’t know it yet.” He told her, lightly bumping her shoulder. “Oh, that’s cool, man. So, you guys are out in the sticks, huh?” He asked, nodding. “It gets fuckin’ creepy out there at night, glad I live in town.” He said, before sipping his beer.“So, what’s your dad do, man?”
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