(Untitled)

[henry_jones_jr]

* If there are any more depressed characters slumped over at the bar tonight drinking and being generally pissy, then they'd do well to stay clear of Indy. Cos Indiana Jones looks like the most pathetic tragedy this bar has ever played host to... at least tonight. You can almost hear the angst. There's a half empty bottle of Scotch in front of him

Comments

[bloody_tired]

She stalks up to him. "You great bloody wanker! Where have you been? And what have you been doing?"

[henry_jones_jr]

* She receives nothing more than a thankless grunt for her pains *

[bloody_tired]

And he receives a smack to the head for his troubles. "Talk!"

[henry_jones_jr]

Ow fuck!

* if its possible, he seems even more aggravated now as he rubs at the area of contact *

Jesus. Let a man drink in peace can'tcha?

[andmisterhyde]

Hyde avoids angst like the plague. When he's not avoiding it, he's laughing at it.

So he sits in his booth and lobs a carefully constructed notebook paper-ball at Indy's head.

[henry_jones_jr]

* It bounces off the top of his hat and rolls onto the counter innocuously. It was always going to be innocuous... it was just a ball of paper after all *

* Indy stares at it for a while, seeming to already know who was responsible. He crushes the ball tightly in his fist and flips it over his shoulder casually, back towards Hyde's booth. The aim seems true as it arcs smoothly through the air... *

[andmisterhyde]

It lands in Hyde's coffee. He stares at it.

You realize, of course, that this means war.

He rips another piece of paper out of his notebook and folds it nice an' good.

There's now a paper airplane zinging towards Indy's head.

[henry_jones_jr]

* Paper airplanes are notoriously difficult to direct with any precision. It doesn't look good for Hyde's attempt really, and the plane curves away from Indy. But at the last second the front door opens and a blast of wintery air pushes the missile back on course. It prangs into the back if Indy's neck *

* Possibly a little amused, he still doesn't turn around. Instead he takes a napkin and wraps a handful of bar snacks in it - twisting the top and successfully forming a rather well balanced nut bomb *

* He waits for a few moments, hoping that Hyde will lose interest and drop his guard. Then flings the package around his back with quite some force, again without looking at the target *

* The aim is a bit off, but perhaps it was meant to be. The bomb explodes on the back wall of Hyde's booth, spraying trail mix and cashew nuts across his table, and probably into his frizzy mop of hair *

* War it is! *

[young_tmriddle]

*Tom walks over to Indy, smiling to see him up and about.*

Hullo, Indiana. How are you feeling?

[henry_jones_jr]

* Indy grumbles something unintelligible into his glass. It might have been 'kin awful... what does it look like? but Tom possibly didn't heard it that way *

[young_tmriddle]

That bad, eh? I've not had much experience with Muggle gun wounds, but they certainly looked horrific. Have you had a Healer helping you?

[henry_jones_jr]

* he softens a little, remembering Tom's integral part in the healing *

Moraine visted the day after. Did some stuff and said I was fine. I couldn't walk for a few days. But hey look... now I can... and see where I walked to?

* he sighs *

Sorry Tom. It's been a fucking crappy few days.