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Post by Brazil on Aug 17, 2011 22:35:48 GMT -5
Beatriz couldn't say she minded having Mathias' arms around her was unpleasant, even if she had to pay attention to navigating through the traffic-filled streets of Rio. It would be especially irritating to have an accident with a fragile human in the mix to complicate things, yes?
At one point, Beatriz had to nimbly dodge a taxi that seemed nearly intent on sideswiping her. She could hear Mathias' voice shouting something that sounded a tad panicky, but the wind, the taxi's blaring horn, and her own excited laughter muffled the sound. Oh, what a great way to travel this was! Beatriz couldn't remember who exactly had invented them, but motorcycles had to be one of the better vehicles people had come up with! So much more exciting than some silly, bulky car, yes?
When she finally pulled to a stop in front of her destination, Beatriz's first move was to shake her hair into something resembling a tamed look, and to comb the bigger tangles out with her fingers. A downside of never wearing a helmet with long hair, sadly, but one that Beatriz was happy to accept in exchange for the rush she got.
"That was great fun! But be careful on that thing! I'd hate for you to get hurt."
[/color] Beatriz had to bite back a smile as she graciously accepted the help off of her bike: back when she was a younger nation, that comment would have been taken exactly the wrong way. Implying that she was something weak enough to be hurt so easily, or that she would be so incompetent at driving that an accident was inevitable... ...Luckily for Mathias' fingers, Beatriz was far less impulsively violent these days! The only reason she tried to hide her amusement was that the Brazilian couldn't think of a good way to explain the joke without revealing herself as a nation. Best to keep things less complicated, yes? "You don't need to worry, Mathias! I'm a little tougher than I look, sabe? But it's sweet of you to care,"[/color] Beatriz opted to reply. Pointing with her free hand, Beatriz quickly added "You see it? Over there!"[/color] The buildings on this street lacked that polished gleam of the more tourist-driven areas in the city, but the storefront Beatriz was pointing to made up for the relative plainness with bright and colorful lights and a warm atmosphere. It was more of a hangout for the locals, but as Beatriz tugged Mathias along behind her noted the careworn nature of the cafe with pride. There was just something about places that lasted, yes? It was so much more satisfying to linger in comfortable old places in one's house than to lurk in the brightest, shiniest, and newest additions. At this time of night, the place was only moderately busy: young couples getting a second wind dominated the tables inside and outside, and the woman behind the counter smiled knowingly at Beatriz and Mathias when they approached. Of course, Beatriz knew right from the beginning that she'd be doing the ordering - a place like this didn't go out of its way to hire people that spoke foreign languages. "Ordering something with our coffee seems reasonable, sabe? The menu is right there, if you can read it,"[/color] Beatriz told Mathias. The menu was a large sign mounted to the wall. If Mathias read Portuguese as well as he spoke it, however...well, this should prove very interesting, yes?[/center]
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Post by Denmark on Aug 22, 2011 6:18:15 GMT -5
Having finger-combed her hair into a style more 'sexily tousled' than 'bird's nest', Beatriz took his offered hand with a glint of amusement in her dark eyes. Mathias saw the gleam and wondered if she had often received requests to be careful on the powerful motorcycle. He supposed some of the more hysterical mothers would label the machine a 'death trap' and urge their daughters take taxis instead.
“You don't need to worry, Mathias!' She certainly did not sound concerned. Quite the opposite, in fact; she seemed to find his concern amusing. It made him feel uncomfortably old and responsible, so he promised himself to never bring it up again. “I'm a little tougher than I look, sabe? But it's sweet of you to care.”
She pointed down the street, barely giving him time to notice her odd word choice in 'tougher' – almost as if she thought she could walk away from an motor vehicle accident unscathed – before continuing, “You see it? Over there!”
His gaze followed the direction of her pointing finger, taking in his new surroundings. In this area, the buildings had weather-worn facades and noticeably less of the glitzy glamor that had almost defined the tourist-centers. Allowing himself to be led, he strolled obediently behind her, neck craning from left to right and back again as he took in some of the sights of the 'real', lived-in city. Although worn with use, this street held an appeal he hadn't found on the main drag. Mathias looked about him, trying to get a better understanding of the nation he was about to begin diplomatic interactions with. Unfortunately, there was not much to see at this time of night.
“Do you live round here?” he asked as they entered their destination, wondering if that was how she knew about the café. Despite the late hour, the colorful little shop was frequented by a moderate number of young couples who dotted the tables, inside and out, chatting away in rapid Portuguese. The inside was painted so as to project a comfortable and cheery air, and decorated with bright, colorful lights. The change of temperature as they walked in probably struck his companion as cosy but to Mathias it was stuffy and oppressive, and he hoped she would not object to sitting at one of the outside tables.
Beatriz was busy making eye contact with the barista and didn't answer. The Dane noticed this nonverbal exchange and couldn't help but wonder again if this was the normal Brazilian way or if Beatriz was incredibly well-known. Everyone they came across seemed to claim some kind of familiarity with his bright-eyed new friend. He offered the proprietress a smile of his own and she responded in kind, though a little less warmly than she had greeted the girl leading him in.
“Ordering something with our coffee seems reasonable, sabe?”
He nodded, returning his full attention to her. “Sounds good.” She was right; what was the point of going to a new country and just trying the same old thing?
“The menu is right there,” she pointed the large sign on the wall, “if you can read it.”
Still grinning, he gave her a side-long look, knowing full-well that she was setting him up to embarrass himself with his poor Portuguese. In doing so, a snarl of hair that she must have missed caught the light. and he disentangled his hand from hers to attend to it. “Hang on, you've got a... thing...” Not waiting for permission, he grabbed the tangled piece of hair and worked gently at the knot. It took only seconds but he used the extra time to try to remember what 'coffee' would be in Beatriz's language as his fingers tugged and pulled lightly.
“There.” Successful, he let the glossy piece of hair run through his fingers and fall among the rest of her long tresses. “Beautiful again. Now, this coffee...”
He eyed the board as if sizing up his nemesis. It was unfortunate that Beatriz's hair was so well-behaved because the extra few seconds undoing the knot had taken had not added to his understanding of Portuguese whatsoever. He could have down with a nest full of snarls to undo to get some proper stalling time. Still, there was presumably only a certain number of things on offer at a café, so maybe if he took his time to think it through he would be able to pick something appropriate.
The first thing on the list was 'cafézinho'. Racking his brains, he seemed to remember than irmaozinho – or something to that extent - meant 'little brother', or was it 'little sister'? Definitely 'little', anyway. So was that the size, or a type of coffee? Single shot? None the wiser, he chanced a glance at Beatriz. He couldn't help but smile, knowing he must look ridiculous puzzling over something as simple as a coffee menu.
“Don't tell me. I can do it.”
Further down the list was: café-com-leite (latte?), café-pingado, café-curto, café-longo (Is that like a long black?), café carioca, capuccino (Pretty sure I know what that one is.) and descafeinado (Another one that speaks for itself, I hope.[/i]).
“Usually,” he said slowly, “I'd have one of these.” He pointed at the café-com-leite, desperately hoping it was a latte like he thought or at the very least something else that wouldn't contradict what he was saying. “But I feel more adventurous tonight. What do you think I should have?”
He cast another glance over the board, puzzling over the less recognizable drink names.
“Anything but descafeinado,” he added.
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Post by Brazil on Aug 27, 2011 22:45:26 GMT -5
As they entered the café shop, Beatriz heard Mathias asking her if she lived around here.
"Nope! I found the place some time ago,"
[/color] Beatriz replied honestly, "I have yet to find a café shop I like better, sabe? It's good to take the time for a place like this!"[/color] It wasn't even a lie at all: Beatriz had stumbled across the place just like any other Brazilian might. The only thing she left out was that that had been quite some time ago... Once they were at the counter, Mathias seemed to understand that Beatriz wasn't trying to be mean when it came to teasing him about reading the menu. She was actually a little curious to see if the Danish man was able to read Portuguese better than he spoke it. Sometimes foreigners were like that, yes? “Hang on, you've got a... thing...”[/color] A thing? Before Beatriz could ask what Mathias meant by that, his fingers were in her hair. Staring, the Brazilian woman watched as Mathias found a knot she had missed and untangled it before she could tell him not to touch her hair...and actually, that hadn't been as bad as she'd feared. O Amazonas was a sensitive mass of hair, and since it was mixed up with all the rest of her hair it was hard for Beatriz to keep track of where it was safe to tug and pull. While Mathias contemplated the menu, Beatriz contemplated Mathias. Very sensitive fingers he had there, yes? He didn't look the type...what other talents was the Danish man hiding under that admittedly silly-seeming exterior? “Usually...I'd have one of these. But I feel more adventurous tonight. What do you think I should have?”[/color] Mathias was pointing at café-com-leite. Beatriz knew that it was known as a 'latte' in other parts of the world, which raised the question if Mathias really did normally have a latte or if he was just guessing. “Anything but descafeinado,”[/color] he added, and Beatriz barked out a laugh. "That would defeat the purpose of drinking coffee, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz replied with a smile. What did she think Mathias should have, however? That was patently obvious. "One should not leave Brazil without trying good cafezinho,"[/color] Beatriz added after another moment, "And the cafezinho here is absolutely wonderful, sabe?"[/color] Mathias hadn't mentioned anything from the rest of the menu, which Beatriz decided meant that the snack to go with their coffee would be her choice. She didn't waste much time deciding, either. "Dois cafezinho e um goiabada,'"[/color] Beatriz said, putting in the order. The young fellow behind the counter nodded, noting it down, and Beatriz turned to Mathias with a smile. "Now we sit and they bring it to us,"[/color] Beatriz informed him, "You can pick out the table, I don't mind where it is."[/color] Oh, that sweet taste on her tongue...Beatriz almost danced her way to the table that Mathias ended up choosing. She could hardly wait![/center] ---- - Cafezinho is a small, filtered, and extremely sweetened cup of coffee. It's the iconic coffee of Brazil (and apparently they look at you funny there if you don't load your coffee up with sugar). - Goiabada is a kind of guava jelly that's usually served with a cheese. Apparently very delicious, it's also known as a 'Romeo and Juliet'~ Link to wiki page be here~
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Post by Denmark on Sept 5, 2011 4:31:36 GMT -5
Judging by the lack of incredulous response, Mathias figured that café-com-leite had been a safe choice. His logic must have also served him correctly because Beatriz did smile at his comment about descafeinado.
“That would defeat the purpose of drinking coffee, sabe?” she agreed. The Brazilian girl took a moment to consider his question. Mathias hoped that she would recommend something strong.
“One should not leave Brazil without trying good cafezinho,” she said, leaving Mathias relieved he hadn't tried to tell her that he normally drank that one. “And the cafezinho here is absolutely wonderful, sabe?”
“Oh, great. I'll have one of those,” said Mathias, privately wondering what exactly a 'cafezinho' was.
Fortunately, the object of tonight's affections was already turning to the young guy behind the counter and didn't seem to notice his blank expression. Mathias cast his eyes over the menu again, looking for clues as to what he would soon be drinking, and heard Beatriz make her request.
“Dois cafezinho e um goiabada.”
Mathias assumed the 'goiabada' bit at the end was Beatriz saying some version of 'please', which displayed just how little he'd been paying attention to his Portuguese phrasebook on the flight over. The book on relationships had been much more interesting, though he was finding it difficult following the stupid rules it had suggested. He seemed to be doing okay. Beatriz hadn't slapped him, yet, so he felt he was off to a good start.
In fact, she was smiling at him again. “Now we sit and they bring it to us. You can pick out the table, I don't mind where it is.”
“Alright. Let's sit outside.” The pleasant breeziness of their ride was quickly becoming a distant memory and Mathias was already beginning to overheat in the small shop. The outside tables looked appealing, and he led the way through the other customers to the one of the shop front seats where the air was only slightly cooler. He bit back a sigh; it would take him a while to get used to the heat.
He sat across the table from her, and within seconds of sitting felt a little awkward. He felt at a loss for words. Normally, if he'd met a girl at a bar, there wouldn't be too much talking, per se. On a good night he might catch the name, and by the time the morning came he wasn't interested in speaking to most of them again. Still, he didn't want the silence to drag on.
“So, Beatriz,” he began, grabbing at the first thought that came into his head, “Do you often pick up Danish men and take them out for coffee on your bike?” He grimaced visibly as soon as he said it; that was a stupid thing to say. “Ah, because I've never met a girl like you before. Tell me about yourself.”
And again, he'd broken the “don't be stupid or say stupid things” rule. He hoped she had not taken offense or that his following request would smooth any momentary pique over. Some of his bleached-blonde club princesses would be very put out by such a thoughtless remark, but Beatriz had already proven several times tonight that she was not like his Scandinavian girls. Fortune-willing, she wouldn't be as uptight as them, either.
He tried his most charming smile as he waited for her response.
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Post by Brazil on Sept 26, 2011 23:58:41 GMT -5
Mathias picked a table near the front door, which Beatriz didn't mind. It was obvious that he wasn't used to dealing with the heat, which would have irritated her immensely if this had been a meeting regarding business. To come to a country like Brazil without being prepared for the weather was pathetically stupid, yes? But since whatever actual business her new Danish friend was here for had nothing to do with Beatriz, she was willing to forgive him...this time.
“So, Beatriz, do you often pick up Danish men and take them out for coffee on your bike?”
[/color] Beatriz found her gaze, which had started to wander out into the night, moving back to Mathias as her Danish friend spoke. What an odd thing to say...it was probably a joke he was attempting, yes? Or maybe it wasn't, because Mathias clearly felt the need to explain himself further. “Ah, because I've never met a girl like you before. Tell me about yourself.”[/color] Sitting back in her seat, Beatriz studied Mathias seriously for a moment. Sometimes she could get away with "pretending" to admit to her actual status as a nation - the boys she'd done this with were the time that would never believe such a thing in a million years even if Beatriz went out of her way to prove her unique status, so it didn't count as actually admitting anything, yes? But Mathias looked to be the type that might...diplomatically speaking, he might actually consider her words as truthful, and Beatriz couldn't have that. "I'm sure I'm far less interesting than you yourself are, sabe? You're certainly the first man I've ever met from Dinamarca,"[/color] Beatriz replied, resting her weight on her elbows as she leaned closer to Mathias' side of the table. Here, she shrugged. "Since you asked me so nicely, I suppose...I work in Brasília - that's where the government is, sabe? And I have my hobbies as well..."[/color] Beatriz winked playfully. "But you will have to guess them, I think,"[/color] she added with a sly kind of smile.[/center]
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Post by Denmark on Oct 3, 2011 4:39:37 GMT -5
She did not seem offended, but Beatriz took some time to respond. Mathias felt her dark gaze evaluating him as she mulled something over and looked up to meet her eye, surprised at how long it was taking her to answer the simple request. He rested back in his chair, wondering if maybe she was a celebrity after all and was deciding how much to tell him. He used to have a similar struggle, before his bosses had sorted out a cover story for him.
"I'm sure I'm far less interesting that you yourself are, sabe?" she said finally. "You're certainly the first man I've ever met from Dinamarca."
Leaning in as she spoke, Beatriz rested on her elbows. Mathias did the same unconsciously. "It's a long way from home," he agreed, "but I like checking out new places."
"Since you asked me so nicely, I suppose... I work in Brasilia - that's where the government is, sabe?"
His eyebrows quirked upwards in surprise. Did she mean that she worked for the government? Mathias' eyes trialled over her slim form again, trying to figure out what position she would hold if she were a government employee. She was too young and too carefree to be in a particularly high position, he decided, but seemed too headstrong to be an intern or somebody's secretary. Another mystery.
"And I have my hobbies as well..." Here, she winked, causing something in Mathias' stomach to jolt. The familiar wink was paired with a smile that seemed both flirtatious and challenging. "But you will have to guess them, I think."
"Ooh, a challenge." A grin of his own started to spread. "Let me think about it."
He tapped two fingers against his chin, looking her over for the second time in as many minutes.
"I don't think you care what anyone thinks of you," he said after a pause, remembering the laughter in the club that had greeted his Portuguese pick-up line. It would have been easy for a less self-assured kind of girl to shy away in embarrassment and try to blend into the crowd. "And I think you're pretty much fearless." Or that you think you're pretty much fearless, anyway. "And you're obviously fit and gorgeous so..." He snapped his fingers, picking the first sport that came to mind which fit with the picture. "I bet one of your hobbies is base-jumping."
The young man from behind the counter approached them presently, two small cups of strong-smelling coffee balanced in one hand and a plate of what looked like jam and cheese. Easily distracted, Mathias looked at it in confusion as the man placed it in the centre of the table and put one of the cups in front of each of them.
"What's that?" he asked, leaning forward a little more to get a good look as soon as the barrista had excused himself.
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Post by Brazil on Oct 25, 2011 16:32:39 GMT -5
Beatriz watched the expression on Mathias' face shift as he took in what she was telling him. The lack of details about her 'job' were something that sparked the imagination, true, but it wasn't as if she could point at a career and say 'That's my job, I do that for a living', yes? Beatriz's position in her government tended to wander from department to department nowadays. Even when she'd been under military rule, Beatriz's duties had never been static.
And when she'd been an empire...oh, that had been fun. She'd nearly run wild. But those days were sadly past, yes?
"I don't think you care what anyone thinks of you,"
[/color] Mathias finally said in response to her teasing challenge, "And I think you're pretty much fearless. And you're obviously fit and gorgeous so...I bet one of your hobbies is base-jumping."[/color] Mathias seemed pleased with his answer, but Beatriz raised an eyebrow. Base jumping...that was where people threw themselves off buildings and things and tried not to die, yes? What a stupid sport - like skydiving, which was slightly more sensible, but with much more certainty of being an idiot. "So close, sabe?"[/color] Beatriz replied, "I've jumped out of planes before, of course, but base jumping...that doesn't appeal to me."[/color] Fortunately, Beatriz was distracted from wondering why Mathias would think she'd enjoy doing something so pointless by the arrival of their order. The goiabada looked so wonderful and the cafezinho smelled like Beatriz's version of heaven - really, if that wasn't what heaven smelled like then there was no such thing as God. It didn't matter what the Italies thought. Mathias was staring at the goiabada with an amusement expression on his face. The dish came with two spoons, so Beatriz scooped up some to show him. "It's goiabada, sabe? You would call it...'guava paste', I think. On the bottom is the curado - our cheese from Minas Gerais...the taste is so wonderful,"[/color] Beatriz explained. She was too impatient to give a better explanation before she had a taste of it. Once she'd sated her hunger with some sweet bites (and her thirst with some swallows of sweet coffee), Beatriz smiled brightly at Mathias. "We also call it 'Romeo and Juliet', sabe? What do you think?"[/color][/center] ---- - THIS DELAY IN POSTING IS TOTALLY FAIL. >.< - Also, after consulting my internal Brazil she informs me that she thinks base-jumping is stupid and pointless. So...yeah~ *shrug*
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Post by Denmark on Nov 5, 2011 14:57:11 GMT -5
Beatriz dug her spoon into the plate and lifted it up for his inspection."It's goiabada, sabe? You would call it... 'guava paste', I think," she explained as he eyed the deep red jelly. "On the bottom is the curado - our cheese from Minas Gerais... the taste is so wonderful."
She wound up her explanation by taking a few bites. Mathias followed her example, digging to the bottom to get the cheese with the paste like Beatriz had done, and taking a tentative bite. He was immediately grateful for the presence of the cheese; the guava paste itself was incredibly sweet, almost too sweet for his unrefined palate, but the cheese helped tone it down. He took another, bigger bite. Expecting the sugariness this time, he found it quite enjoyable.
"We also call it 'Romeo and Juliet', sabe?" she said with a bright grin. "What do you think?"
He nodded and smiled back. "It's good. Really different - I've never had anything like it before. Why is it called 'Romeo and Juliet?"
He sampled the coffee, which was also sweeter than expected. Delicious, though, and on the plus side at least the sugar might help energize him - at least until his blood sugar levels crashed. Already he could feel himself perking up.
He was reaching in to get another spoonful when the phone in his jeans' pocket began to buzz and a familiar ring-tone started. He'd got his brother to assign one particular distinctive tone to all of Mathias' government contacts so he could be forewarned if they were on the other end. And as he knew it was about two in the morning in Copenhagen right now, he was pretty sure he knew who was calling him even without the aid of caller-ID.
"It's my boss," he said dumbly as his phone repeated the chorus of 'Under the Sea'.
Unfortunately, Lars'd had the foresight to order Mathias to answer all of his phone-calls. Mathias' fingers delved into his pockets and wriggled the phone free even as he gave Beatriz a rueful, apologetic smile. He knew Lars would be angry and demand he return to the hotel at once.
"I, uh, kind of have to do what my boss says," he explained, feeling a little lame as he pressed the 'Talk' button. "It's... it's like a compulsion..."
"Mathias!"
He attempted to sound jovial and casual even as his eyes slid away from Beatriz to the table, hating how his prime minister could puppet him like this. "Hej Lars. Have a good night?"
I wondered if it was a good idea to stop here or not, but I guessed Beatriz would probably have some reaction to Denmark just whipping out his phone when his boss calls like a wuss. If it's not a good place for you, let me know and I'll finish the phone call. (Part of me figured that Denmark would be the worst at sneaking out of a hotel and would get caught eventually.)
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Post by Brazil on Dec 5, 2011 12:06:28 GMT -5
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