Appointments

[theblogger]

This post is for IC threads that don't fit in logs or network posts (aka this is an excellent choice for a private thread).

Games: Ataraxion and Luceti

Please indicate the date and the game you're from in the subject line!

Comments

[theblogger]

[ John's just about had enough of the insanity going on outside as well. Sherlock and Brennan seem to have made a sort of research field day of it, but John has never been the sort of person who's been able to set themselves above the crowd. All he can be thankful is that nothing has befallen either him or Sherlock this month... and try to dodge or otherwise not step on the other villagers.

This is a little too much disarray for his tastes. So, when he's done with his shift at the clinic, he deviates from his path to home and goes right into the pub. He knows more about the strange happenings is just waiting back at the flat. Might as well have a drink and get buzzed enough to put him in a better mood to swallow it all. It's been months since his last real drink, which he took when his best friend showed up after being dead for months. John's pretty sure he deserves this one.

He's hoping, not expecting, to maybe see Archie Kennedy behind the bar. It's been a while since the sailor's seizure incident, and John's felt properly ashamed about not checking up on him sooner.

But he spots another familiar face first.

John hesitates, if only because he's not entirely sure where he stands with Booth. The man thinks he's a fictional character, so that's a bit of an odd situation waiting to happen...

Sod it. Things are already crazy. Drinking alone is a terribly sorry thing to do. Might as well try to make peace. He's Temperance's friend(?), after all. ]

Booth?

[beltbucklerebel]

[the class makes a heavy clink when he sets it down on the bar, still half full. He's still angry enough to want to get drunk, but there's enough of him back in control to temper the urge.

Still would be nice, though.

He's still contemplating his glass when he hears his name, glances up in the speaker's direction...and laughs. Under his suit jacket, his wings gave a slight twitch before settling uneasily under the fabric.

Figures. Well, what was one more bit of crazy on top of all the rest.]

...Watson.

[theblogger]

[ John's brow furrows a bit at the laughter, but... he gets it.

And ignores it. ]

Sort of hope they're just refusing service to everyone who looks underage for now. Really was afraid I'd come in and find a milk bar instead.

[ His hand perches atop one of the stools two down from Booth, silently asking permission. If the man doesn't want him there, though, he'll head off to the other side of the bar. He's not the sort to force his company on anyone. ]

[beltbucklerebel]

[he raised his glass just slightly] It's real enough.

[he doesn't respond to the doctor's presence at first, but after a moment's hesitation he offers a slight nod.

Lestrade was right. They had enough trouble without asking for it from people who appeared friendly. He might not trust the other man, but he didn't want to fight him either]

Not that I've got a real kind of ID to show them.

[theblogger]

[ That was just the same to John. Sherlock might be okay with just ignoring people in association with his colleagues, but John didn't do so if he thought something was salvageable. Booth didn't strike him as a bad person, even if he was undoubtedly a bit coarse. Nothing John hadn't dealt with before.

He pulled out the stool and took a seat with the nod, settling his elbows on the bar and looking toward whoever was serving. ]

Maybe you just have to find a gray hair to show? Wouldn't work out too well for the women, though, I suppose.

[beltbucklerebel]

Hey, Pal...there's nothing gray about this hair.

[it wasn't really heart-felt belligerence, though. Really, it came across as more of a habit than anything]

[theblogger]

[ John takes it with a slight quirk to the edge of his mouth. ]

Maybe it's just 'if you can see over the bar', then. Or up to what sort of mood the bartender is in.

Is that what's on tap?

[ Gesturing to Booth's drink. ]

[beltbucklerebel]

[muttering] Just so long as that didn't change with...whatever the hell this past week was.

[turning his glass in his hand, he considered the amber liquid in his glass] Went for scotch, instead. Seemed to fit with everything else.

[theblogger]

Think that's a good idea, actually.

[ He'll be having a scotch as well, when the bartender comes to ask him. After watching it poured and allowing silence to reign in the interim, he lifts his glass and murmurs. ]

Cheers.

[ And drains about half of it. ]

How long have you been here, again?

[beltbucklerebel]

[the question gets him to take another drink as well, before he actually answers] 21 days.

[a pause and, then, he finishes off his glass in response to the answer as well. When the glass is back on the counter, he raises a hand to signal for a refill]


....You?

[theblogger]

Four months... the day after tomorrow?

[ Christ. His jacket shifts with his wings, which he keeps guarded whenever he's out of the flat. He's only watching Booth in his peripherals for now, mostly studying the array of drinks behind the counter. ]

Assume you've had a chance to settle in somewhere and look around. You're from... Texas?

[beltbucklerebel]

[Four months. Like Brennan. John's question catches him off guard before he can comment, though, and he shoots the doctor an incredulous look.] What?! No, I'm not from Texas.

I'm from Pittsburgh!

[because someone from England should know where that is, obviously]

[theblogger]

Well, the Jeffersonian Institute, it's... in Texas, isn't it?

[ A squint. It wasn't that odd a question, was it?

A nod, though. Surprisingly enough, he does know where Pittsburgh is. At least, he knows what state it's in. ]

Pennsylvania, alright. My apologies.

[beltbucklerebel]

Washington, D.C.

...I don't sound like I'm from Texas. [do I?]

[theblogger]

[ John's just going to take a sip off his drink here. ]

Where do you think I'm from?

[beltbucklerebel]

[Booth frowns, giving him a sideways glance. Is this a trick question?]

England. Or...Britain...or whatever the hell you're supposed to call it now.

[theblogger]

[ It's not a trick question, per se... ]

England is a part of Britain, yeah. That's like saying you're from the United States.

What part of England, do you suppose?

[beltbucklerebel]

Hey now...That's different.

[theblogger]

[ John arches his brows. ]

You expect me to know what part of your country you sound like you're from; I don't see how it's different.

Unless you can't name more than two cities in England. S'alright if you don't - just admit it.

[beltbucklerebel]

Mine's a bigger country.

[you know what they say about size.

...and no, he can't]

[theblogger]

Mine's an older one. So what?

[beltbucklerebel]

So there's as big difference between DC and Texas, that's what.

[theblogger]

What's the one in Texas, then?

[beltbucklerebel]

What's the what in Texas?

[theblogger]

The Instit--

Nevermind. [ Bartender, please bring him another round. ]