!open, Church
Who: Church and [Open - to everyone not going to the dance!]
When: February 14th, 9:00 PM
Where: Lorne's Bar. Church found BOOZE.
What: Church wandered around, found the bar. He's lookin' for a pretty girl.
Rating: R - naughty things come from his mouth. All the time.
Status: Incomplete and OPEN.
Leonard Church was new to town. He'd been here a total of six and a half hours, and he'd already worn out his welcome with the two people he happened to know. Well. Scratch that. He'd had a fight with Tex, but would more than likely end up sleeping in a room in her house that night. And he was wearing York's clothes. But he was angry, and had left the mansion that the Freelancers and Horrible lived in, after stealing a coat from the male Spartan's room, and a pair of shoes as well. And he'd taken to wandering around the town. There weren't many people out on the streets, because it was freezing, and Church had ended up spending a lot of time in the Library before the sun set and he decided to go walking around again.
That's when he found the bar. Oh, alcohol. He hadn't had alcohol in years. Not of his own choice, of course. Church loved to drink. It just wasn't allowed when you were part of the SPARTAN II experiment. It didn't mean he hadn't done it - sex wasn't allowed, either, but her certainly wasn't a virgin.
This Spartan, who stood seven feet tall in his armor, was now without it and stood at a tall six feet, four inches. He had dark hair and blue eyes, bright enough that they stood out a little, but not so much that they seemed fake. Artificial. His hair was cut short, military style, but that wasn't how he liked to wear it... so it would grow out, during his stay here.
But back to the bar. He'd seen the sign and the alcohol advertisements, and was pushing the door open to enter the dimly lit pub, glancing around at a few inhabited tables, and the few people at the bar, before he was moving forward and taking up a stool on the corner. "Three shots of whiskey." Said easily. That was a good way to start off the night. God, he hadn't had a drink in a long time. He deserved one! He'd just gotten blown up and sent to bum-fucking-Canada to find an AI and his dead ex-girlfriend.
Yeah. He needed a drink. And some company that weren't Spartans.
When: February 14th, 9:00 PM
Where: Lorne's Bar. Church found BOOZE.
What: Church wandered around, found the bar. He's lookin' for a pretty girl.
Rating: R - naughty things come from his mouth. All the time.
Status: Incomplete and OPEN.
Leonard Church was new to town. He'd been here a total of six and a half hours, and he'd already worn out his welcome with the two people he happened to know. Well. Scratch that. He'd had a fight with Tex, but would more than likely end up sleeping in a room in her house that night. And he was wearing York's clothes. But he was angry, and had left the mansion that the Freelancers and Horrible lived in, after stealing a coat from the male Spartan's room, and a pair of shoes as well. And he'd taken to wandering around the town. There weren't many people out on the streets, because it was freezing, and Church had ended up spending a lot of time in the Library before the sun set and he decided to go walking around again.
That's when he found the bar. Oh, alcohol. He hadn't had alcohol in years. Not of his own choice, of course. Church loved to drink. It just wasn't allowed when you were part of the SPARTAN II experiment. It didn't mean he hadn't done it - sex wasn't allowed, either, but her certainly wasn't a virgin.
This Spartan, who stood seven feet tall in his armor, was now without it and stood at a tall six feet, four inches. He had dark hair and blue eyes, bright enough that they stood out a little, but not so much that they seemed fake. Artificial. His hair was cut short, military style, but that wasn't how he liked to wear it... so it would grow out, during his stay here.
But back to the bar. He'd seen the sign and the alcohol advertisements, and was pushing the door open to enter the dimly lit pub, glancing around at a few inhabited tables, and the few people at the bar, before he was moving forward and taking up a stool on the corner. "Three shots of whiskey." Said easily. That was a good way to start off the night. God, he hadn't had a drink in a long time. He deserved one! He'd just gotten blown up and sent to bum-fucking-Canada to find an AI and his dead ex-girlfriend.
Yeah. He needed a drink. And some company that weren't Spartans.