[SCENE] Post-Misham Bar Visit
((A few hours after the Misham Log, and prior to Lana's visit to the Rusty Gust.))
Wright: *the same evening of the day he was hired at the Rusty Gust, Phoenix walks through the double front doors of the saloon again. This time, his walk is hurried, and the expression on his face--it's a little manic, a mixture of strange emotions shifting back and forth. He heads up to the bar counter, and all but plops down on a chair*
Jake: *there's a moderate activity in the saloon now, and people are already getting sloshed. Jake was in the middle of talking to a customer while making a Caesar when Phoenix abruptly came in and seated himself down at the counter. Jake excuses himself and turns his attention to the return visitor* Pardon me, but didn't you roll in here just this afternoon? All you drifters start lookin' the same to me after a while.
Wright: *has his elbows on the countertop, and is rubbing his forehead--the front of his hat, really-- with both hands. When Jake heads over, he speaks with his eyes focused on the polished wood surface of the bar instead of at the cowboy* Bourbon. Hit me with a glass, will you?
Jake: *his brows furrow when he sees Phoenix in this state. He's seen it before... a year ago... for one week straight. He's curious as to what happened, but he doesn't want to pry just yet. He glances at the bottle of Wild Turkey behind him, chuckling a bit to hide his concern.* Too early for Thanksgivin', don't ya think?
Wright: *without glancing up, his voice uncharacteristically quiet* There isn't a lot to be thankful for, that's for sure. Bourbon.
Jake: *sticks a celery stalk in the Caesar before passing it onto the customer he was talking to. He watches Phoenix as he fills a lowball glass with ice, still smiling in case he looks up.* Heh... You hit a bump in the road or what? You were grinnin' like a fogy a few hours ago.
Wright: I found some answers... and got some more questions in the process. *instead of looking up, he shuts his eyes* ...I liked the previous set of questions better. *holds out a hand for the glass*
Jake: *fills the glass with Wild Turkey and gently pushes it into Phoenix's hand. He stares at him, unable to continue smiling now. He poses the next question without any sternness* Where's yer lil' girl?
Wright: *at the question he snaps out of it slightly, glancing up and choosing to answer before he takes a drink* She's at home, sleeping. I put her to bed before coming out here again. *he raises the glass to his mouth, swallows two, three times before he sets down the glass* *muttering under his breath* ...I can't just sit at home like this. *takes another quick gulp, followed by another, making his intentions regarding drinking quite clear*
Jake: *keeps watching Phoenix, dumbfounded by his sudden change of mood.* There's that feelin' o' déjà vu again. *puts both hands on the counter and bends down so he's closer to Phoenix, and so he can talk to him without having to be too loud* What sorta predicament you gotten yerself in now? *trying to stay chipper* You got a job, and yer poppet's gonna be in yer arms t'morrow, right?
Wright: *hesitates for moment, glass at his lips -- it takes him just a second to recall what exactly a 'poppet' is -- and then he sets down the drink* ...Yeah... she is. *he stares up at Jake, or rather through the man, thinking. Whatever goes through his mind, though, is apparently unpleasant-- after another moment he downs the rest of the bourbon*
Jake: *bottle already in hand when Phoenix brings down the empty glass, he's about to refill it but stops to ask and make sure:* How many more rounds?
Wright: *glances down, grinning slightly* ...How many do you think it'd take?
Jake: *A serious stare -- This is uncharacteristic of Phoenix, and he knows it. He wouldn't be doing this unless something was bothering him bad. He refills the glass* You gon' tell me what went down or what? Bottlin' it up ain't good fer the heart.
Wright: You really want to listen...? *chuckles a little, then downs half the glass, making the ice clink against the sides of it as he talks* I... don't handle betrayal well, I guess. *frowns* ... I guess nobody handles betrayal well. But I can't forgive it.
Wright: Have you... ever gone through something like that...?
Jake: *laughs as though Phoenix just made a joke, though it sounds forced* You kiddin' me, hombre? *taps the side of his own head* Use yer brain 'n' think. You can't be that tipsy yet.
Wright: *blinks-- no, he's not tipsy yet, but the events of a case four years ago are rather difficult to recall. When it clicks, he rubs the back of his neck slightly* ...Oh. Right... sorry. *he laughs a little, glancing down at the golden colored liquid he's holding* You turned to this too then, didn't you?
Jake: *pulls out a shot glass and pours himself some bourbon as Phoenix recalls. He smirks upon hearing his reply and holds up the shot, posing a question rhetorically.* Does a sunset last f'rever? *downs it, then pauses as he realizes:* Wait. Sunsets only last six minutes.
Wright: Roughly that... *raises his glass in a slight salute before he works down the liquid again*
Jake: *steps to the fridge to grab a couple of beers for some customers, passing the bottles onto them before returning to Phoenix. He readies the bourbon for another round.* Betrayal ain't no easy thing to disremember. What'd you do, anyhow? You said somethin' 'bout havin' some business to hash out b'fore turnin' back t'yer ranch?
Wright: *holds his glass up to the bottle* ...I know who did it. But I don't have any evidence. ...And I don't know why.
Jake: *fills the glass; pauses before he answers* You ain't pullin' my tail, are you?
Wright: *shakes his head, not making this glassful last any longer than the others--if anything, he's finishing it off faster* It was a friend of mine. *he chuckles lowly* If... he was ever actually a friend. *stares at the counter--that half-smile of his has crept onto his face again* I don't know why.
Jake: ....Damn. *the severity of Phoenix's revelation hits him hard -- he knows how badly Phoenix reacted to the disbarment, and the fact that a friend was behind it is a familiar-sounding tale. He pities the man immediately* You positive 'bout it, huh?
Wright: I'm sure. *his face is slightly flush as he finishes off his third glass, slamming it a little harder than necessary on the counter* Sure as I've ever been. And that's it. And I can't... just let it drop like this.
Jake: *refills the glass, raising an eyebrow at the last statement* Gonna grab the bull by the horns 'n' take charge... without a rope?
Wright: *firmly, though his tongue's starting to trip* m' gonna find the rope first. *gestures out with his glass*
Wright: I'll make him drop the rope.
Jake: Easy there, desperado. You've fallen off your saddle and haven't been back on the trail in some time... *sets the bottle on the counter* ...and this bandito who shot you in the back... whoever it is, ain't gonna drop it without a fight's what I'm guessin'. Am I right, or am I wrong?
Wright: *shrugs, frowning--that and a long gulp of the bourbon is all the response he makes*
Jake: *stares flatly for a moment* ...No clue, huh? *smirks* Thought so! *stands up straight when he hears another order, taking a hi-ball glass and filling it with ice and three kinds of fuel.*
Wright: *continues sipping at his glass, silently watching the cowboy prepare whatever it is he's preparing*
Wright: *after a minute he leans forward, resting his head heavily on his free hand. He mumbles, barely audible* You managed to trust her afterwards, right...? I mean... Lana. *he pauses, glancing up at Jake--a little too quickly; the movement seems to temporarily disorient him* You... forgave her, right? After what happened... and you found out.
Jake: *he hears Lana's name when he passes the drink to a cute redhead; he barely pays her any mind. Brushing back a strand of hair away from his face, he slowly walks back to Phoenix, keeping eye contact the whole way. He leans in, resting an arm on the counter, without a hint of humour in his face or voice.* ...You're breachin' in on dangerous territory there, drifter.
Wright: H...huh? *glances up from his glass, not quite understanding--it was an earnest, if not fully thought out question*
Jake: When you pull that name on me in that sorta context... all I see's the red of her scarf wavin' in front of my eyes.
Wright: Ah...? *finishes the rest of his drink, and it looks like this last one had quite an effect* *with a slight grin, slurring more now* She does have a reeally red muffler, yeah...
Jake: *stands up straight with a quick sigh, realizing the meaning of his words are getting lost on Phoenix now. He wipes his mouth and turns to the back shelf to put the bottle of bourbon away, though not before pouring himself another shot* Does it make any difference to you whether I have or haven't?
Wright: *swirls the ice in his glass, considering this* Not... really... I just figgered you did, though. It's been... *mumbles* ...three years?
Jake: *still turned away* Why shoot, then?
Wright: *he's resting more heavily on the bar counter now, glancing down as he shrugs* ...Curious...?
Jake: *has a witty retort for that, but decides not to bother as his new pianist is clearly not in the right state of mind for such things* ...Yeah. *he turns to Phoenix, downing the shot. He says this as though he's admitting it to himself* I forgive 'er. *puts away the glass*
Wright: Ah. *blinks, thinking quietly to himself-- if there was another reason for his question, he isn't offering it. After a moment, he holds his glass forward*
Jake: *smirks* You're half seas over, compadre! How you plannin' on gettin' home?
Wright: Walk. *the hand bracing him against the counter slips as he answers, and he frowns* ...Cabbing.
Jake: *a single nod* Mmm-hmm. Can't be here too long when you've got two lil' ladies to take care of t'morrow. *Mixes up a rum and coke and passes it onto a customer over Phoenix's head* "Trust" is-- *skips the metaphor and goes with a simile instead* ...one o' them words that becomes a dangerous weapon when it falls into the wrong hands. Just like a gun. It can either protect you or kill you.
Wright: *nods earnestly, several times--a bit too much motion all at once. Apparently it makes him dizzy, as he drops the glass and catches his head in his hands again, rubbing at his forehead. His fingers reach under the edge of his hat and he tugs it off; his hair is partially matted down but still quite spikey* I've done too much of it... trusting people. Haven't I?
Jake: *doesn't answer to that; it's hard seeing a good man like Phoenix being so distraught. His tone is serious when he speaks* Who was it?
Wright: *frowns and shakes his head curtly--his hair isn't gelled, and it sways with the movement* A friend. ...You don't know him.
Jake: Not even after four rounds... *shakes his head with a bittersweet smile* Musta smart. Real sorry t'hear it. *nudges the rim of his hat up with his thumb* So when's the face-off?
Wright: *shakes his head again--he seems to be clamming instead of loosening up* I don't know. *a little louder, pushing his glass forward* I don't know.
Jake: *trying to calm him down* All right, that's fine. So long's you don't take too long. *eyes him carefully, hesitating a bit before refilling the glass* Wait a week or two to cool yer head... should be good 'nuff.
Wright: *nods slightly, quieting down and taking a sip from the glass. He stops after a mouthful though, as though it isn't settling well inside of him* ...Sorry. *he chuckles bitterly after a moment* Sorry. *mumbling* ...was like this a year ago too wasn't I...?
Jake: *returns the bottle to its rightful place, then leans in towards Phoenix, crossing his arms on the counter. He taps a fingernail against the glass of bourbon* That's your final, and I don't mean just for the night, either. I don't want no repeat of last year, y'hear me?
Wright: *nods-- it doesn't look like he's going to be able to finish the current glass anyway* It's the final. I'll... be alright in the morning. Rissie's coming. *he smiles slightly--earnestly--at that thought* ....Gotta clean up before she does. ...It'll be fine.
Wright: *he places his hands on the bar counter, trying to heft himself up to his feet-- they're a bit shaky, but he manages* Gotta get going. How much do I owe you...?
Jake: See? Always a light at the end o' the tunnel. *a friendly chuckle* That'll come to twenty-two fifty. But I'll ease the blow. *a beat -- points at Phoenix with two fingers, his tone flat* Twenty-two.
Wright: H-heh... *pulls out his wallet and seems to spend a minute trying to calculate out numbers; he gives up, puts three tens on the counter. There seems to be enough for cab fare remaining in there, but not much more than that* Thanks... I needed that.
Jake: *the bourbon was actually 5.50 dollars each, not 4.50, but knowing Phoenix's reluctance to accepting that kind of help, he keeps that to himself. He takes the cash and rings up the register* Any time, compadre. Any time.
Wright: *nods, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head a little crookedly before he turns to leave. He walks off from the counter, managing quite well, actually -- only bumping once against a chair leg on the way to the door*
Jake: *calling out with a smile* Careful, all right? You're a valuable employee of mine now!
Wright: *manages a shakey salute before he disappears through the saloon doors*
Jake: *frowns as he shuts the register drawer when his new employee is out of sight and moves to the back shelf to fix up another order. Not only does Phoenix's words weigh heavily on his mind, he's unable to get Lana out of his head now. For the rest of the night, he tries his best to focus on the job, hoping it'll be a long time before he has to come face-to-face with that particular loose end*
Wright: *the same evening of the day he was hired at the Rusty Gust, Phoenix walks through the double front doors of the saloon again. This time, his walk is hurried, and the expression on his face--it's a little manic, a mixture of strange emotions shifting back and forth. He heads up to the bar counter, and all but plops down on a chair*
Jake: *there's a moderate activity in the saloon now, and people are already getting sloshed. Jake was in the middle of talking to a customer while making a Caesar when Phoenix abruptly came in and seated himself down at the counter. Jake excuses himself and turns his attention to the return visitor* Pardon me, but didn't you roll in here just this afternoon? All you drifters start lookin' the same to me after a while.
Wright: *has his elbows on the countertop, and is rubbing his forehead--the front of his hat, really-- with both hands. When Jake heads over, he speaks with his eyes focused on the polished wood surface of the bar instead of at the cowboy* Bourbon. Hit me with a glass, will you?
Jake: *his brows furrow when he sees Phoenix in this state. He's seen it before... a year ago... for one week straight. He's curious as to what happened, but he doesn't want to pry just yet. He glances at the bottle of Wild Turkey behind him, chuckling a bit to hide his concern.* Too early for Thanksgivin', don't ya think?
Wright: *without glancing up, his voice uncharacteristically quiet* There isn't a lot to be thankful for, that's for sure. Bourbon.
Jake: *sticks a celery stalk in the Caesar before passing it onto the customer he was talking to. He watches Phoenix as he fills a lowball glass with ice, still smiling in case he looks up.* Heh... You hit a bump in the road or what? You were grinnin' like a fogy a few hours ago.
Wright: I found some answers... and got some more questions in the process. *instead of looking up, he shuts his eyes* ...I liked the previous set of questions better. *holds out a hand for the glass*
Jake: *fills the glass with Wild Turkey and gently pushes it into Phoenix's hand. He stares at him, unable to continue smiling now. He poses the next question without any sternness* Where's yer lil' girl?
Wright: *at the question he snaps out of it slightly, glancing up and choosing to answer before he takes a drink* She's at home, sleeping. I put her to bed before coming out here again. *he raises the glass to his mouth, swallows two, three times before he sets down the glass* *muttering under his breath* ...I can't just sit at home like this. *takes another quick gulp, followed by another, making his intentions regarding drinking quite clear*
Jake: *keeps watching Phoenix, dumbfounded by his sudden change of mood.* There's that feelin' o' déjà vu again. *puts both hands on the counter and bends down so he's closer to Phoenix, and so he can talk to him without having to be too loud* What sorta predicament you gotten yerself in now? *trying to stay chipper* You got a job, and yer poppet's gonna be in yer arms t'morrow, right?
Wright: *hesitates for moment, glass at his lips -- it takes him just a second to recall what exactly a 'poppet' is -- and then he sets down the drink* ...Yeah... she is. *he stares up at Jake, or rather through the man, thinking. Whatever goes through his mind, though, is apparently unpleasant-- after another moment he downs the rest of the bourbon*
Jake: *bottle already in hand when Phoenix brings down the empty glass, he's about to refill it but stops to ask and make sure:* How many more rounds?
Wright: *glances down, grinning slightly* ...How many do you think it'd take?
Jake: *A serious stare -- This is uncharacteristic of Phoenix, and he knows it. He wouldn't be doing this unless something was bothering him bad. He refills the glass* You gon' tell me what went down or what? Bottlin' it up ain't good fer the heart.
Wright: You really want to listen...? *chuckles a little, then downs half the glass, making the ice clink against the sides of it as he talks* I... don't handle betrayal well, I guess. *frowns* ... I guess nobody handles betrayal well. But I can't forgive it.
Wright: Have you... ever gone through something like that...?
Jake: *laughs as though Phoenix just made a joke, though it sounds forced* You kiddin' me, hombre? *taps the side of his own head* Use yer brain 'n' think. You can't be that tipsy yet.
Wright: *blinks-- no, he's not tipsy yet, but the events of a case four years ago are rather difficult to recall. When it clicks, he rubs the back of his neck slightly* ...Oh. Right... sorry. *he laughs a little, glancing down at the golden colored liquid he's holding* You turned to this too then, didn't you?
Jake: *pulls out a shot glass and pours himself some bourbon as Phoenix recalls. He smirks upon hearing his reply and holds up the shot, posing a question rhetorically.* Does a sunset last f'rever? *downs it, then pauses as he realizes:* Wait. Sunsets only last six minutes.
Wright: Roughly that... *raises his glass in a slight salute before he works down the liquid again*
Jake: *steps to the fridge to grab a couple of beers for some customers, passing the bottles onto them before returning to Phoenix. He readies the bourbon for another round.* Betrayal ain't no easy thing to disremember. What'd you do, anyhow? You said somethin' 'bout havin' some business to hash out b'fore turnin' back t'yer ranch?
Wright: *holds his glass up to the bottle* ...I know who did it. But I don't have any evidence. ...And I don't know why.
Jake: *fills the glass; pauses before he answers* You ain't pullin' my tail, are you?
Wright: *shakes his head, not making this glassful last any longer than the others--if anything, he's finishing it off faster* It was a friend of mine. *he chuckles lowly* If... he was ever actually a friend. *stares at the counter--that half-smile of his has crept onto his face again* I don't know why.
Jake: ....Damn. *the severity of Phoenix's revelation hits him hard -- he knows how badly Phoenix reacted to the disbarment, and the fact that a friend was behind it is a familiar-sounding tale. He pities the man immediately* You positive 'bout it, huh?
Wright: I'm sure. *his face is slightly flush as he finishes off his third glass, slamming it a little harder than necessary on the counter* Sure as I've ever been. And that's it. And I can't... just let it drop like this.
Jake: *refills the glass, raising an eyebrow at the last statement* Gonna grab the bull by the horns 'n' take charge... without a rope?
Wright: *firmly, though his tongue's starting to trip* m' gonna find the rope first. *gestures out with his glass*
Wright: I'll make him drop the rope.
Jake: Easy there, desperado. You've fallen off your saddle and haven't been back on the trail in some time... *sets the bottle on the counter* ...and this bandito who shot you in the back... whoever it is, ain't gonna drop it without a fight's what I'm guessin'. Am I right, or am I wrong?
Wright: *shrugs, frowning--that and a long gulp of the bourbon is all the response he makes*
Jake: *stares flatly for a moment* ...No clue, huh? *smirks* Thought so! *stands up straight when he hears another order, taking a hi-ball glass and filling it with ice and three kinds of fuel.*
Wright: *continues sipping at his glass, silently watching the cowboy prepare whatever it is he's preparing*
Wright: *after a minute he leans forward, resting his head heavily on his free hand. He mumbles, barely audible* You managed to trust her afterwards, right...? I mean... Lana. *he pauses, glancing up at Jake--a little too quickly; the movement seems to temporarily disorient him* You... forgave her, right? After what happened... and you found out.
Jake: *he hears Lana's name when he passes the drink to a cute redhead; he barely pays her any mind. Brushing back a strand of hair away from his face, he slowly walks back to Phoenix, keeping eye contact the whole way. He leans in, resting an arm on the counter, without a hint of humour in his face or voice.* ...You're breachin' in on dangerous territory there, drifter.
Wright: H...huh? *glances up from his glass, not quite understanding--it was an earnest, if not fully thought out question*
Jake: When you pull that name on me in that sorta context... all I see's the red of her scarf wavin' in front of my eyes.
Wright: Ah...? *finishes the rest of his drink, and it looks like this last one had quite an effect* *with a slight grin, slurring more now* She does have a reeally red muffler, yeah...
Jake: *stands up straight with a quick sigh, realizing the meaning of his words are getting lost on Phoenix now. He wipes his mouth and turns to the back shelf to put the bottle of bourbon away, though not before pouring himself another shot* Does it make any difference to you whether I have or haven't?
Wright: *swirls the ice in his glass, considering this* Not... really... I just figgered you did, though. It's been... *mumbles* ...three years?
Jake: *still turned away* Why shoot, then?
Wright: *he's resting more heavily on the bar counter now, glancing down as he shrugs* ...Curious...?
Jake: *has a witty retort for that, but decides not to bother as his new pianist is clearly not in the right state of mind for such things* ...Yeah. *he turns to Phoenix, downing the shot. He says this as though he's admitting it to himself* I forgive 'er. *puts away the glass*
Wright: Ah. *blinks, thinking quietly to himself-- if there was another reason for his question, he isn't offering it. After a moment, he holds his glass forward*
Jake: *smirks* You're half seas over, compadre! How you plannin' on gettin' home?
Wright: Walk. *the hand bracing him against the counter slips as he answers, and he frowns* ...Cabbing.
Jake: *a single nod* Mmm-hmm. Can't be here too long when you've got two lil' ladies to take care of t'morrow. *Mixes up a rum and coke and passes it onto a customer over Phoenix's head* "Trust" is-- *skips the metaphor and goes with a simile instead* ...one o' them words that becomes a dangerous weapon when it falls into the wrong hands. Just like a gun. It can either protect you or kill you.
Wright: *nods earnestly, several times--a bit too much motion all at once. Apparently it makes him dizzy, as he drops the glass and catches his head in his hands again, rubbing at his forehead. His fingers reach under the edge of his hat and he tugs it off; his hair is partially matted down but still quite spikey* I've done too much of it... trusting people. Haven't I?
Jake: *doesn't answer to that; it's hard seeing a good man like Phoenix being so distraught. His tone is serious when he speaks* Who was it?
Wright: *frowns and shakes his head curtly--his hair isn't gelled, and it sways with the movement* A friend. ...You don't know him.
Jake: Not even after four rounds... *shakes his head with a bittersweet smile* Musta smart. Real sorry t'hear it. *nudges the rim of his hat up with his thumb* So when's the face-off?
Wright: *shakes his head again--he seems to be clamming instead of loosening up* I don't know. *a little louder, pushing his glass forward* I don't know.
Jake: *trying to calm him down* All right, that's fine. So long's you don't take too long. *eyes him carefully, hesitating a bit before refilling the glass* Wait a week or two to cool yer head... should be good 'nuff.
Wright: *nods slightly, quieting down and taking a sip from the glass. He stops after a mouthful though, as though it isn't settling well inside of him* ...Sorry. *he chuckles bitterly after a moment* Sorry. *mumbling* ...was like this a year ago too wasn't I...?
Jake: *returns the bottle to its rightful place, then leans in towards Phoenix, crossing his arms on the counter. He taps a fingernail against the glass of bourbon* That's your final, and I don't mean just for the night, either. I don't want no repeat of last year, y'hear me?
Wright: *nods-- it doesn't look like he's going to be able to finish the current glass anyway* It's the final. I'll... be alright in the morning. Rissie's coming. *he smiles slightly--earnestly--at that thought* ....Gotta clean up before she does. ...It'll be fine.
Wright: *he places his hands on the bar counter, trying to heft himself up to his feet-- they're a bit shaky, but he manages* Gotta get going. How much do I owe you...?
Jake: See? Always a light at the end o' the tunnel. *a friendly chuckle* That'll come to twenty-two fifty. But I'll ease the blow. *a beat -- points at Phoenix with two fingers, his tone flat* Twenty-two.
Wright: H-heh... *pulls out his wallet and seems to spend a minute trying to calculate out numbers; he gives up, puts three tens on the counter. There seems to be enough for cab fare remaining in there, but not much more than that* Thanks... I needed that.
Jake: *the bourbon was actually 5.50 dollars each, not 4.50, but knowing Phoenix's reluctance to accepting that kind of help, he keeps that to himself. He takes the cash and rings up the register* Any time, compadre. Any time.
Wright: *nods, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head a little crookedly before he turns to leave. He walks off from the counter, managing quite well, actually -- only bumping once against a chair leg on the way to the door*
Jake: *calling out with a smile* Careful, all right? You're a valuable employee of mine now!
Wright: *manages a shakey salute before he disappears through the saloon doors*
Jake: *frowns as he shuts the register drawer when his new employee is out of sight and moves to the back shelf to fix up another order. Not only does Phoenix's words weigh heavily on his mind, he's unable to get Lana out of his head now. For the rest of the night, he tries his best to focus on the job, hoping it'll be a long time before he has to come face-to-face with that particular loose end*