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As the stranger sighed in response to his question, Zell smiled and rested an arm on the back of a bench.  [i]The things a woman can make a man feel, eh,[/i] he thought as he waited patiently for the other man to find the words his heart was looking for, enjoying the meaningful silence, and the fact that even such a scary-looking individual could be captured by the power of love.  It was both heart-warming and hilarious to the ex-frat boy.

When words finally came, they were beautiful.  Zell nodded slowly, the smile never leaving his face, and while he [i]was[/i] in the moment with the stranger, listening intently to the description of the woman in the letter, it was another woman who was clear in Zell's mind.

[Colour=Green]“...She’s the kind of girl who makes you…”[/colour]

"...makes you want to be a better man," Zell finished quietly and confidently.

They shared a warm silence for a moment and Zell looked out onto the park.  It was only a short description the man had given, and it was clear by the tone that his feelings towards this woman were far more advanced and developed than Zell's  own were for the woman on [i]his[/i] mind.  But nevertheless, he felt a kinship to this stranger, simply for being on the same page.  Whoever this stranger was, the first thing out of his mouth was 'caring-giving' and 'pure heart' - he'd chosen these words, exposing his own values - and that alone demanded respect, as a man. Zell could relate - as strange as it might sound from the shallow, foolhardy Englishman.  University had been full of beautiful women, smart women, talented or popular women.  None had kept Zell's attention for long (granted the dumbass had a short attention span but still...)

[Colour=Green]“What about you?  You said love is up for debate, as of recently.  Tell me about her, if you don’t mind.”[/colour]

Zell sighed, then laughed as he realised he'd perfectly mirrored Barracker's reaction to the question. He swore and shook his head, then let out another breath.  "Too good for me, mate," he started.  "Virtue and honour in human form.  Stiff as a plank of wood," he chuckled, "but that's part of her charm.  Underneath that she's steadfast, fierce, brave..."

This was too much seriousness and honesty for Zell Brooks!

"And christ; she's hotter than a furnace in a volcano," he blurted out loudly.  "Slap-bang in Hell in the middle of a heatwave."  He laughed at the stranger.  "Bloody gorgeous."  He shook his head, disappointedly and with a smile.  "Fuck - look at us two, eh... [i]hopeless.[/i]  Give me Aurok the Maneater and a sword - let a simple frontliner do his job," he joked.  "Speaking of swords:  That's a beauty right there," he nodded at the other man's giant-ass weapon.  "Claymore, right.  I'd guess about ten pounds, but that looks heavier than most."  He hoped the man would help change the subject and talk about his weapon in more detail, Zell was all ears.  "You've gotta be packing some kinda muscle to wield that one-handed while rockin a tower shield."

If the other man was into weaponry, Zell would be happy to hand over his own for show.  The scabbard of steel-banded, brown leather had a slit at the top to make for easy drawing off the back.  The drow-made katana inside was of high craftmanship and just as nice to look at.

"Where are my manners," the Englishman would finally remember; "We haven't even been introduced properly.  Zell Brooks," he offered a hand to shake.  It took him a moment to remember that he should add.  "...Of Second Chance."