(Untitled)

[ineveryport]

Pick a bar in Metropolis, any bar.

No not that kind of bar. The seedy places filled with smoke and shouting and a very high percentage of offworlders in the clientele. The kind of bar you go to in order to drink homebrewed beer, carouse and gamble and maybe later pick a fight and go home drunk and bleeding

Comments

[tobeclosetohim]

This one doesn't look like Sam.

Couldn't really be mistake for a man either.

But what Jo is looking like is pleased as pie, even through the shadowed edges, when she gets handed a shot of tequila with matching lime and salt.

[ineveryport]

Oh she probably could, if she tried. Jack does, after all.

He catches sight of her early in the evening, when he's still on the really good winning streak stage, and soon his beer joins her Tequila on the bar.

"Good e'en."

He's grinning; pleased to see her, but curious, nevertheless. He wants to know what's going on.

[tobeclosetohim]

"They have limes, Jack." There's a winning smile as she's wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Real limes."

She says it the second time like she might be explaining orgasms has been added on tap at the bar. Before waving a hand for a second round and giving him a glance, with one raised brow, that asked if he wanted in.

[ineveryport]

"Aye, someone's been trading with the Hollow."

Hey, it's a living, and it gives himan excuse to see Iris. But he says it like he's taking credit for Jo, and Jo alone.

He nods, and signals as such to the bartender. Tequila and lime and salt for two.

And waits until it's downed before he asks, "how fare you?"

[ducttapesurgeon]

Dead Boy likes this kind of bar. They're always good for finding the kind of person innocents need defending against.

He's here, now, smoking something that doesn't smell like tobacco - or cannabis, for that matter - and watching the people.

[ineveryport]

Right now, in his own way, Jack's that kind of person. For a given value of 'innocent'.

He's between games right now, drinking hard and scanning the bar with a predator's eye. He needs someone to con.

Deadboy is not a candidate, but he gets a grin and a toast, as someone with some mutual acquaintances.

[ducttapesurgeon]

Dead Boy lifts his glass in return, with a friendly smile.

Nobody in this bar qualifies as innocent, especially if Jack's only out to con them.

[ineveryport]

Well, con and beat senseless once he's provoked them into attacking him. Some people and their idea of fun.

After a few seconds he comes over to join Deadboy. "Good e'en."

[diseasedvermin]

Tom uses bars because they have booze. Tom is simple like that.

He's also grinning when he sees a familiar face.

"Oi!" he shouts from halfway across the bar, a mug of beer in hand. The most noticeable difference is his lack of Victorian clothes: Tom's wearing modern jeans and a slightly ill-fitting winter jacket.

"Still alive, eh?" he says once he gets close enough, not caring what game he's interrupting.

[ineveryport]

For Tom, Jack doesn't find forfeiting the round. He leans back in his seat and grins broadly for someone simple and liked who he's not ashamed to admit he has missed.

"Not for want of trying, mate."

[diseasedvermin]

"Still loads o' mad shit out there on the roads, 'en?" Tom asks.

Who isn't up for a tall tale of monster ass-kicking? Tom only has relatively boring stories about nicking shit. And being attacked by hawks and found out as a shapeshifter by half-naked bints and meeting someone who borrowed Lucy's body.

[ineveryport]

"More than enough to keep me occupied," Jack says cheerfully. "Helped excavate a ghost from a young girl."

Although now he totally wants to know about the half naked bints.