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+---- Thread: The Bear's Cave - Sedona Station, Baffin (Formerly Freeport 14, Yukon) (/showthread.php?tid=50472)
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - DarthBindo - 02-26-2011
Ian smiled again.
His hand slid into his pocket, dropping the ID card he'd palmed as the other had walked past.
Very well, Mr. Connor, if that's how you want to play.....
Holmes would have to take a look at the man's Sabre before he left port.
As he walked out, he dropped the card into the ashtray outside. No need to keep it.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Dusty Lens - 02-26-2011
The booth was well comfy, the toddy steaming and the sandwich superb. The joint, however, was nothing short of damn fine and did wonders for both his head and his concern for worries present.
Secure in his corner of the world Connor/Chambers/Copper produced a well worn datapad was pulled from beneath his sweater; upon he commenced all manner of effing around in some productive fashion.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Blighter - 02-26-2011
Watching Junior-Lieutenant Ian Holmes walk out of the bar kind of got her thinking. That's what they've all done. Walked out. Something about this whole affair didn't seem right. Katz against Volkhan, that's how it should've been. Or maybe not. Or maybe yes. With the alcohol starting to take its toll more and more it proportionally started to matter less and less for the time being.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Huh?"
Copper had caught her eye, sitting in the booth across of hers, in the other dimly-lit corner of the bar. Or maybe it wasn't the man himself, but more what he was holding between his fingertips.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Hey-uh, you, comrade?"
She didn't know the man's actual name yet. All she knew, somewhere, was that he was a Reaver Mercenary going by "Copper".
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Can I..."
Somewhere wasn't here and now. What she knew now was that she wanted something.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Can I like, y'know, have some of that stuff you're having?"
When your world is turned upside-down and you're left alone in a bar's dark corner, you figure that your principles might go and f*** themselves once in a while. Raw desperation or search for an escape from the present, whatever the reason. With some alcohol as help, you can start going farther than you ever wanted to.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Dusty Lens - 02-26-2011
The "man in the booth across the bar" looked up from his work, considered for a moment, took a final toke and silently set the joint in the ashtray with the business end facing the empty seat across from him.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Blighter - 02-26-2011
She pulled her legs back from the table, slowly standing up, making sure to grab the bottle and the packs of cigarettes before she strolled over to Copper's booth. Almost tripping on the way she made herself look kind of... clumsy. Didn't matter though, 'cause she kept on going and let herself land in the empty seat with a loud thump.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Heh."
Killing her cigarette in the ashtray, she downed another bit of that Vodka she held so dear, and then reached for the Jay-Jay.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"You better tell me your real name after this one."
Inhale deeply. Keep it in. Recline and relax. Breathe. Chill. Forget that you'd have been kicked out for misconduct at home. Inhale again. Repeat.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Dusty Lens - 02-26-2011
He took a moment to blow some steam from his mug of tea before taking an exploratory sip, eyes not leaving the datapad in the process. Seemed that he and his had done the good work up Gallia ways and had earned their right of passage. Day was looking up.
Could be I'm looking at things the wrong way but I think you're smoking my weed, not sure that puts me in your debt.
Which led him to wonder why he was going to let a day that was looking up be trashed by allowing this ****ed up specimen half a seat at his table. He didn't want to know her name. He didn't want to learn her troubles. He didn't want to hear her sob story. He didn't even want to use her as a source of information.
Because the look she was harboring in her eyes struck a little too close to the heart, reminded a little too keenly of those he used to fight beside before he'd become the equivalent of a pimp. Their cause had been bull****, but there's a singular look you get when you think you've entrusted who you are to something greater than yourself and it goes to **** around you.
Which wasn't a place he wanted to go back to. He was fine with where he was. He had his little school. He had his good karma. Sometimes he could pick his fights and come out feeling like the good guy. Sometimes.
He didn't need to feel like he was living for something to get by. He'd made up for everything before that.
So he worked on his datapad, reports filing away unseen as he ignored the woman sitting across from him.
He took another sip of tea. It was bitter.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Blighter - 02-26-2011
She looked at him as he sat there, focused on that little data-pad of his, eyes busily moving up and down as he took a sip of tea, those of eyes his and that look on his face showing that behind them was more. Just more. Something was there, something that didn't match with whatever exactly it was he was doing right now.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"It doesn't, but the last night you and your friend made clear which side of the fence you're on when it comes to the likes of me."
She tilt her head back. Inhale. Relax. The whole ordeal.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"And now I'm here, tipsy, in the process of getting stoned too, sitting at your table, smoking your weed like you've said."
She said, after blowing some smoke-rings into the air. She was a little curious, but somewhere else she knew that sooner or later she might just end up shooting the fellow like any other Mercenary if she were ordered to. But somewhere wasn't here.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Makes me wonder why, 'cause you sure don't look like a grand gentleman to me either."
Another gulp of Vodka later, she leaned forward, reaching over the table, Jay-Jay between her fingertips.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Your turn."
So is the way an upside-down world goes.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Dusty Lens - 02-26-2011
He looked up and took the joint, his fingers touching hers ever so briefly.
Oh, I'm no gentleman. It just seemed like the polite thing to do. Afterall.
He drew a toke and held the note, raising his eyes to stare down the woman across the table as the joint burned a path through his lungs.
You and yours are the ones who bought it for me.
He took another pull, the end of the joint flared.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Blighter - 02-26-2011
Under different circumstances, in a different place, only barely three, two days earlier, hell maybe rather two years ago, Lieutenant Alissa Kalinin wouldn't have just laughed. But those weren't different circumstances, so all she really did was laugh until she had to gasp for breath.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Oh god... good one, give you that much, good one there comrade!"
More Vodka. One more gulp. A glass' worth. Followed by an alcohol-induced smile.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"But I don't think it's you just being polite."
She wasn't drunk enough to have stopped thinking entirely, and while the little amount of weed - as excellent as it was - did its own little part, that mind hidden behind the brown, sparkling eyes of hers kept doing its job.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"There's a reason I am here. There's a reason you are here. And there is, just the same, a reason you invited me over to your table."
After quickly stealing the Jay-Jay out of his fingertips she took the last pull, then let it slowly die in the ashtray as she stood up.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Guessing there's a reason why you're hiding behind work too."
Maybe another time, he'd be more inclined to talk. Sure, it might've mostly been alcohol and her wish to get her mind of all the s*** that had happened recently that got her here, but now there was some genuine interest about this fellow, lodged deep in her cerebral cortex like a splinter.
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF9944]"Dosvidanya, Mister Cee."
Leaving a credit card to cover for her expenses on the table, she headed out of the bar, stopping only at the counter to get another bottle from the barman before she'd vanish. Back down, but hopefully not back down to reality. At least not for now.
The Bear's Cave - Freeport 14, Yukon - Dusty Lens - 02-26-2011
Frankly, that wasn't the reaction he figured on. Given that it wasn't what he would have said if it was a bar with guns. As he figured that comment would have earned him a quick lesson in breathing out of his forehead.
For his own part he mostly tried to not look stunned, which resulted largely in him looking somewhat stupid. As you can only look so cool while a young woman is laughing in your face. Maybe with you, maybe at you?
She was slurring, she killed his joint, she left the bar, she somehow snatched up his demeanor and took it with her. The situation demanded he issue a comeback at her fleeing form to salvage a measure of his dignity.
... I'm not hiding behind work...
YEAH.
Well anyways. Balls.
The encounter had left him feeling restless and somewhat irritable. It might have been the weed talking though. Reasons for hanging around were in short supply and he had every notion of taking off. But the ping from the good people of Frenchland had supplied ample direction and intent to initiate operation pull the loud handle.
Enter the wonders of modern technology.
Via his pad he placed his Sabre on auction, readily bought out by the station at a set price which they would toy with at their discretion. With the same stroke of a credit line he appropriated an X shuttle that was available with direction to have it made ready for a long haul. Zoner bases were killer locations to demand a ship be made ready for a "long haul", they didn't screw around or cut corners. They didn't cut prices either, but it was worth the creature comforts and assurances of quality a body knew he was walking away with.
He killed his tea and added the cost of his drink and meal to his late partner's tab before heading out the door. Noting as he made his way for the exit that somehow his ident card had made its way into an ashtray, curiously enough. His gloves secured, his pistol holstered, he got the frek out of dodge.
There were enough crazy women in the galaxy that he didn't need to share a drink with one he'd make a profit in shooting out of the sky.