multipup post

[ofgreatinterest]

While not one usually to succumb to such things, Dominic has taken one of the couches by the fire, back against one of the arms, legs stretched out on the seat. There's a folder on his lap, and he's going through the contents in a somewhat detached manner. He's slightly more involved in the fact that the jukebox (apparently dormant - or at least in

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[laundry_buddy]

Billy passes by with his own old-school gaming device, playing Tetris.

... then passes by again, more slowly. (He can't believe his eyes-- a Gameboy?)

[notthebadman]

Hell yeah. Topher may like his new technology, but he loves his oldschool games. He glances up after a moment, offering Billy a wave.

[laundry_buddy]

Billy is just the same-- in fact, it's kind of refreshing.

"Is that a Gameboy?" he asks, after a few more awkwardly-standing-there seconds.

[notthebadman]

"You know it is."

Putting the game (Megaman) on pause, Topher holds it up for Billy to see.

"My first love! Well, not really, but you get my point."

mine is an evil laugh

[hadyougoing]

Ava is on her lunch break, which she normally takes in Milliways because the vending machines in Arashmaharr don't tend to have much that's human-palatable. Pencil skirt, crisp blouse, silvery headband ... and, incongruously, sneakers that look like they've been to hell and back. (Funny story.)

Septimus catches her eye, if only for the brooding and the torture-device-looking things. She and her lunchtime ham-and-cheese wrap sidle over.

"What's that?"

curse your sudden but inevitable decision >|

[theseventhson]

Septimus glances up almost immediately, expression one of vague startlement as opposed to annoyance.

"My spurs," he responds, looking back down at his hands (although they've probably had more blood on them than most spurs ever should in their lifetime, the silver still looks pretty damn good).

[hadyougoing]

"Oh."

Ava examines them curiously from where she is.

"Like for riding?"

She knows there are stables around here, but she wasn't exactly one of those horse girls in elementary school; her equestrian knowledge probably leaves something to be desired.

[theseventhson]

"Like for riding."

The repetition sounds a little weird coming from him, mostly because it doesn't look like the sort of sentence he'd string together and also because he seems dubious about the phrasing, too.

"You've never seen the like before?"

[one_man_army]

Carl has an interesting debate on his hands. If he goes home now, he'll have to deal with what will probably be the toughest debriefing of his life. If he stays another night, it will push the debriefing back further.

"Bar? Could I get a scotch, neat. Thanks."

Clearly he'll be staying the night.

He glances at Paul, and the assortment of oddities on the bar in front of him. He almost asks 'why', then remembers the tabs.

He looks up at the board. Not too bad, but he'll have to remember to pay it off before he leaves.

"Every bit counts," he comments, in regards to the spare change. It's friendly, not mocking in the slightest.

[averyhasagun]

"Damn skippy," Paul responds good-naturedly, the words sitting a little awkwardly on his tongue but still somewhat easy. Pushing the objects around on the counter, he watches as a couple of bottle caps disappear. "Lady Bar's reimbursing me for about a cent each for some of the smaller things."

Shooting a smile down the bar at Carl, Paul begins the process of sorting out junk from what he wants to go back into his pockets. The smile quickly turns sympathetic. (He knows the look on the other man's face. He's seen it in the mirror a couple of times.)

"We met before?"

[one_man_army]

"I don't recall," he replies. "It has been a bit hellish out my door, so this place hasn't exactly been at the forefront of my mind."

Half a beat.

"Carl Benton," he adds, by way of introduction.

Another half-beat, as he considers the situation at hand. Drinking with someone helps keep him paced. (Except in the case of drinking with Jack, where they'll kill off a bottle of vodka before even slowing down.)

"Buy you a drink?"

[averyhasagun]

"Paul Avery," he responds, with a mock salute.

"And if you don't mind it, sure."

[hallelujahpilot]

Trudy has just clocked off, which explains the flightsuit (complete with gun in its holster) and the helmet under her arm. A helmet which is dumped on the Bar without much regard of where she's putting it, because she? Has had a freaking long day.

Which means that she dumps the helmet on a map.

It takes her a moment for her to realize this, and to flash Winters an apologetic smile as she takes her helmet away.

"Aw, hell, I'm sorry."

[beenbornearlier]

"Oh, no --," Winters says quickly, folding up the offending map. He looks about as tired as she is, with paint and dirt streaking his face.

"I probably should've packed up a little."

[hallelujahpilot]

Her eyes drift over his uniform, and she straightens.

Well done, Chacon, lets just dump your things over the captain's maps, why don't you?

"Nosir, shoulda looked where I was puttin' my shit."

[beenbornearlier]

A quick smile flits over Winters' face. He doesn't bother arguing the point.

"Well, apology accepted," he says gently, beginning to organize the rest of what he's got out.

"Looks like you've got a bit of a storm out there." (This is said with a nod at the door.)

[untiedtheknots]

Artemis starts going through one of the mini piles.

Canadian penny, paper clip, fortune--

"'Help, I am trapped in a Chinese bakery,'" she reads.

[averyhasagun]

"I think someone was a little eager to get out of their cookie," Paul says, amused.

"I mean, I'd rather think that way than consider the implications if it's supposed to be a fortune for me."

[untiedtheknots]

"Chained to a typewriter with itty bitty pieces of paper?" she wonders.

"...at least there would be cookies?"

[averyhasagun]

"Ah, but everything in moderation," he responds, with the best impression of being sagely that he can muster.

"Too many cookies might get a bit tiring. Or is the phrase 'too many cookies' a blasphemy in itself?"