(Untitled)

[bloody_awful]

A bloke walks into a bar.

...um... well.... no. A bloke staggers into a bar.

Comments

[river_meimei]

River's making her way across the barroom, watching with idle interest something invisible near the floorboards --

until she stumbles on nothing, and her gaze jerks towards Bar and the man huddled against her.

[bloody_awful]

John's eyes are leaking tears, his nose is running and he's drooling a bit. He's hugging himself and shuddering.

[river_meimei]

Between that one step and the next, River's body has tightened to a coltish, fretful collection of joints and angles. She pulls in a breath; one hand rises, probably unnoticed, to pluck briefly at her hair.

But she's still moving -- towards him, now, and not really towards Bar.

[bloody_awful]

John's eyes narrow as he looks at her. He shifts away from her just a bit and hunkers down.

[river_meimei]

River crouches a few yards from him, out of reach, in a slow motion.

Her gaze is fixed on him, now. (Mostly. Her focus slides away, to one side or the other onto bits of furniture and empty air, but it always comes back.) Even if her hands are still twisting slowly against her skirt, she's holding herself like someone approaching a wild animal, or like she's a wild animal herself: quiet, and unthreatening.

[bloody_awful]

John matches her gaze and slowly calms down. As if sharing a secret, he whispers, "I'm not crazy."

[river_meimei]

River flinches, just the tiniest bit.

"They get in your head," she says softly.

It's not quite a whisper, but it's only a notch or two above. Low, and sober.

"I know."

[bloody_awful]

John nods frantically. "Yes. Yes. I..." he trails off and looks confused for a second... "I did something. I did. But I didn't do this!" He looks around. "They can't come here. I think. Maybe."

[river_meimei]

"We'll keep watch."

She doesn't know who he's talking about.

It matters. But in some ways it doesn't.

"All the bounds."