(Untitled)

[flickedmethevs]

Ray still isn't sure about this place, even on its good days. It's just not natural, birds in pubs; and everything else is a bit strange as well. So, when he walks in to see the whole place looking like it was decorated with what was at the bottom of Jon Pertwee's cupboards, he almost turns right around and walks back out. Except there's no door

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[themanclion]

Gene wanders down from upstairs, yawning and scratching his belly. The place gets stared at blankly for a minute, and then he decides he just doesn't care. not until he gets a coffee in him, preferably of the Irish variety. He can't go home until his face clears up from his last fight, so he's mostly spent the time drinking and playing cards. Today looks to be no different.

The bird at the bar gets a nod as he rocks up beside her.

'Coffee. With Scotch in. Large one.'

He looks at the woman again. She looks far too surprised than should be allowed at this time of the day.

'You alrigh', luv?'

[flickedmethevs]

"Guv!"

There is no measure.

for the level.

of absolute.

abject.

horror.

that comes over Ray in that very instant.

[themanclion]

He blinks.

'...not in this life, sweet'eart.'

Beat.

'Are you pissed?'

She sounds Northern so, a) that's a point in her favour, and b) her being pissed is a fairly safe bet.

[bitofadogsbody]

It's at that moment that Chris pops up, or rather, sidles up along the bar. (He can't much help simply gravitating towards the people that he knows, and Gene is no exception. This place isn't one he much fancies navigating on his lonesome.) Gene gets a nod, first, before Chris looks over at the woman next to them. There is something oddly familiar about her, but, considering how perpetual the presence of something odd is around these parts, it isn't a point that he really lingers on.

"She botherin' you, guv?" It isn't any invitation to shoulder the problem himself. Rather, it's his (blunt) way of trying to edge in on the conversation.