Capa knew he had screwed up somewhere. He just didn't know why. Hayley was upset with him again and after what had happened at port, he just didn't feel like facing the world at the moment. Time had been spent in the lab, which he was glad to get, but it wasn't an ideal situation. That place felt so aimless to him.
He found that he was actually homesick. Drinking was never really the best option for him, but as long as he didn't make a fuss about it and didn't go near Hayley when he was drunk, then he didn't see why it should matter.
So, by the time that he saw Arthur, he was already mostly drunk. Stumbling over, he sat down beside him with a smirk.
"Hi." He couldn't think of anything more intelligent at the moment. That would do.
Capa snickered at that and took a drink out of his glass. It was mostly gone. "No." He leaned back against the chair, as his head was a bit heavy to hold up.
"I'm missing the things at port." That was obviously an important distinction.
"Ah." He nodded, smirking a little as he took a drink. Of course, that was quite a distinction to make. Arthur eyed Capa, half tempted to take his drink from him and encourage the man to sober up... But then again, Capa was an adult. He could make his own decisions. "Just the things."
Around noon, Mozenrath could be found in the dining hall, picking at his lunch while he stooped over a book he'd borrowed from the library and forgot to bring back -- probably months ago, now. No one asked after it and it'd completely slipped his mind why he had been interested, but now here he was. Klingon mythology and religion. There had been a particular reason he'd chosen this book, which he had also forgotten. Having started over from the beginning he had only just passed the parts he could remember and had come upon something wholly new.
It was also around this time that he realized his water glass had gone empty, and he abandoned his place at the tables to go and refill it. On passing Arthur as he returned to his own seat, he spoke in curt greeting without thinking -- forgetting there were two people that wore that face. "Doctor Lewis."
Arthur was in mid-sip when he heard that greeting, and he lifted his brow and glanced at Mozenrath as the other man passed. Dr. Lewis? Still? Facial features aside, he didn't really think they looked indistinguishable from one another. Rex was paler, thinner and clearly hadn't mastered the art of slicking back his hair to the degree Arthur had-- not to mention, he was a little too in love with black.
It was a good thing Arthur didn't take these things personally; otherwise, he'd be a little insulted.
He'd gone by so quickly that he didn't really think to look twice. So when Arthur spoke he looked up and had to watch him a moment to be sure. "Right. I keep forgetting there's more than one of you."
"Technically, there's only one of me." He lifted his coffee mug again, preparing to take another sip. "I really don't think we're that hard to tell apart." He didn't sound irritated by it, though, so much as matter-of-fact. He took another drink.
Parker was at a fucking loss with just everything. Right now she was trying to remember that the Barge had helped her, and that she was here to help someone else so that Tommy could have his life and she could go on and take down the Centre. Somedays she wondered if it might have taken less time to go forward and do it now without having the deal with the Admiral to back it up
( ... )
Arthur was enjoying a glass of scotch, himself, when Parker entered. He nodded at her in greeting as she took a seat, a few stools away from him, then took a drink of his scotch, staring at what was left of amber liquid idly. By now, there was more ice than scotch. When she requested the whole bottle, he looked over to her.
"Mind sharing some of that bottle?" he asked, offering a half smile as he lifted his glass.
Parker nodded in response to Arthur's nod, though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to talk to anyone at the moment. The idea that Sunshine was leaving worried her, and at the moment she was rethinking her decisions to decide to get friendly with everyone. Everyone left, and that was the moral of the story.
God she needed a break. Or a cigarette.
When Arthur asked if she minded sharing the bottle, Parker shook her head and then she moved over a stool, offering it to him.
"Thanks," he said, taking the bottle and refilling his glass. Most days, Arthur wasn't the most social creature, but he always liked Parker. She was tough, smart, had a good head on her shoulders. A lot of people had one or two of those traits, but there weren't many on the Barge who had all three.
"How've you been?" he asked, handing the bottle back. "I mean, I can take a guess," tipping his glass at the bottle, "but I thought I'd give you a chance to say it in your own words."
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He found that he was actually homesick. Drinking was never really the best option for him, but as long as he didn't make a fuss about it and didn't go near Hayley when he was drunk, then he didn't see why it should matter.
So, by the time that he saw Arthur, he was already mostly drunk. Stumbling over, he sat down beside him with a smirk.
"Hi." He couldn't think of anything more intelligent at the moment. That would do.
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"Hi." That was some vague amusement in his voice right now. "Missing port already?"
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"I'm missing the things at port." That was obviously an important distinction.
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It was also around this time that he realized his water glass had gone empty, and he abandoned his place at the tables to go and refill it. On passing Arthur as he returned to his own seat, he spoke in curt greeting without thinking -- forgetting there were two people that wore that face. "Doctor Lewis."
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It was a good thing Arthur didn't take these things personally; otherwise, he'd be a little insulted.
"It's Arthur," he replied in a neutral tone.
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Reply
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"Mind sharing some of that bottle?" he asked, offering a half smile as he lifted his glass.
Reply
God she needed a break. Or a cigarette.
When Arthur asked if she minded sharing the bottle, Parker shook her head and then she moved over a stool, offering it to him.
Reply
"How've you been?" he asked, handing the bottle back. "I mean, I can take a guess," tipping his glass at the bottle, "but I thought I'd give you a chance to say it in your own words."
Reply
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