Bernard Black, Black Books, Milliways Bar
There's no telling how Bernard Black wound up slouched in the armchair at Milliways, or how long he has been there. Bernard certainly couldn't tell you the answer to either question, though this may have something to do with the fact that he is utterly dead to the world with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, and has been that way for some time now.
It may also have something to do with last night's even-more-impressive-than-usual volume of consumed wine.
Whatever the reason and whatever the answers, Bernard -- pale-faced and wrapped in a long black coat, with the sort of wild hair that has been known to produce the occasional fungi -- coughs the cough of a longtime smoker in his sleep, and shows no sign of waking anytime soon.
Until his eyes snap open approximately five seconds later.
Bernard stares at the rafters for a long moment before lowering his chin and looking around, his head moving in quick, sharp movements. From his expression, it is quite clear that he is both confused by and exceedingly displeased with everything that he sees.
"Man-ny!" he bellows. From his wince, he regrets the shout, though he immediately goes ahead and does it again as he sits up and turns around. "Manny! Get out here, you caveman Chia Pet!"
Turning the bookshop into a pretentious café + bookshop with headsets and carnivorous couches was bad enough, but this is going too far.
(The cigarette is still, somehow, dangling precariously from his mouth.)
[OOC: Will be tagging all through today, but after today, all bets are off. All tags go toward the 'write a tag, save a Lexie's sanity' fund.
I have absolutely no idea how this is going to go. :D
EDIT: OMG I love you all and you are fabulous, but I have these four papers that I am supposed to be writing, and wordcount from being a pissy Irishman unfortunately does not count. So I will have to run away for now, with 'picking up these threads again after Friday' a definite. Thank you for aiding in stress relief, and for being amazing!]
It may also have something to do with last night's even-more-impressive-than-usual volume of consumed wine.
Whatever the reason and whatever the answers, Bernard -- pale-faced and wrapped in a long black coat, with the sort of wild hair that has been known to produce the occasional fungi -- coughs the cough of a longtime smoker in his sleep, and shows no sign of waking anytime soon.
Until his eyes snap open approximately five seconds later.
Bernard stares at the rafters for a long moment before lowering his chin and looking around, his head moving in quick, sharp movements. From his expression, it is quite clear that he is both confused by and exceedingly displeased with everything that he sees.
"Man-ny!" he bellows. From his wince, he regrets the shout, though he immediately goes ahead and does it again as he sits up and turns around. "Manny! Get out here, you caveman Chia Pet!"
Turning the bookshop into a pretentious café + bookshop with headsets and carnivorous couches was bad enough, but this is going too far.
(The cigarette is still, somehow, dangling precariously from his mouth.)
[OOC: Will be tagging all through today, but after today, all bets are off. All tags go toward the 'write a tag, save a Lexie's sanity' fund.
I have absolutely no idea how this is going to go. :D
EDIT: OMG I love you all and you are fabulous, but I have these four papers that I am supposed to be writing, and wordcount from being a pissy Irishman unfortunately does not count. So I will have to run away for now, with 'picking up these threads again after Friday' a definite. Thank you for aiding in stress relief, and for being amazing!]