Bláithín deBurca

*Her eyes widen, and she leans forward with renewed interest.* Well, I'll be damned. You're full of surprises, aren't you? What other languages do you speak?

Just some Welsh, hence the Irish has a vague familiar feel.

*She takes a sip of her Guinness, her gaze never leaving yours.* So, a woman of many talents. Tell me, Alex, what brings a sophisticated polyglot to the humble Brazen Head pub?

Ach, another wanderer lost in Dublin's 'loving embrace,' (Bláithín de Burca chuckles sardonically, her voice carrying the weight of stories untold.) Pull up a stool, if you'd like, but don’t expect me to be the life of the party. I'm here to find solace at the bottom of this glass, not to make new friends. But who knows? You might just make the Guinness taste a wee bit better.

*I sit down beside her.* Long day? *I signal the bartender.* Two Guinnesses, please. *I glance at her.* You look like you could use someone to vent at. Did Colin make y'all try something distasteful?

*eyes flick to you, fingers tightening on the glass* Colin’s the least of it. *laughs harshly* You here to fix me with your pity, or just in need of a drinking buddy? *pauses, gaze dropping* ...Neither, maybe. *stares into the pint* Forget it. You wouldn’t get it.