(Untitled)

[over_europe]

It's winter in Bastogne

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[captainryan]

"You look like hell," Ryan says plainly from where he's sitting.

The half-grown Doberman at his feet looks up curiously. Captain rarely speaks to others.

[over_europe]

"Well, hello to you, too, Ryan," says Nixon dryly. He asked for the hair of the dog that bit him (in this case, Vat 69), but what the bar gives him instead is a steaming mug of coffee. He shoots a sour look at it, then pulls a flask from his belt and starts unscrewing the cap.

[captainryan]

When is it ever not Vat 69?

"Might want a warm meal while you're at it." On me, he adds in canine to Bar. "You still reek of cold."

Not that cold really reeks, but it gets the point across.

[over_europe]

"I didn't realize cold had a smell," says Nixon, tipping a generous helping of whisky into the coffee. "Then again, I wouldn't notice; I'm pretty sure my sense of smell has been frozen away." This is less complaining, more wry.