Happy Hour

[cottoncandypink]

It's been a weird couple of weeks. Network stress, werewolf stress, stray dog stress, and added heat wave stress have made Wilford seriously believe the universe is out to get him. Or, apparently, the multiverse. He's not even surprised when he gets the napkin before he's even able to order anything.

Specials

What the hell
What she's having
She's paying

Once again, Wilford finds a bottle of something that doesn't look safe to even touch, let alone drink, and puts it on the bar. He adds a small note the the bottom of the specials board.

Survive a shot of the green stuff and drink for free.

Happy Hour is open!

[ooc: Open all day. Threadhopping encouraged. All that fun stuff!]

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Autor approaches the bar and its occupant carefully, like a hunter might draw near to a wounded rhinoceros. He stops a few feet away, giving himself space to bolt if needs be. "Are you armed?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford looks up from his phone at the question. He doesn't recognise Autor, since he's never actually laid eyes on the kid.

"Depends on who's asking," he says.

He had a Magnum revolver hidden away in his inventory, but that's it today.

[herr_bookman]

Autor cocks his head to the side, studying Wilford. "I don't see any weapons this time, but that doesn't mean anything," the boy says, furrowing his brow. "I saw you had a shotgun earlier, and you of course had a sniper rifle. What's with you and guns?"

[cottoncandypink]

That earns Autor a narrow half-glare. Wilford doesn't like knowing he's being spied on while he's here, on top of everything else.

He holds up his left arm, so Autor can see the gnarly werewolf bite that's going to take its sweet time to heal.

"Because crap like this happens otherwise."

If he'd had a better gun than just the sawed-off the other day, it would not have happened at all.

[herr_bookman]

Autor adjusts his glasses as he looks over the bite. "That looks nasty. Were you bit here?"

[cottoncandypink]

"No, lucky for you, that happened on my side."

He'd noticed the old, worn-down sign by the back door, warning of werewolves before. But until recently, he assumed werewolves here were just the same level of annoying that they are where he's from. Judging by some of the reactions he's got lately, werewolves here tend to be a bit worse.

"And don't worry, there's no need for a hunting party, either."

[herr_bookman]

"If it happened on your side, there's no need to bring guns here," Autor says, narrowing his eyes. "What bit you?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford feels like he's missing half of whatever beef this kid has with him.

"Werewolf," he says. "You gonna order something, or what?"

He feels like he's being interrogated right now, and he doesn't like it.

[herr_bookman]

"Werewolf?" Autor says, his eyes widening. "And you're not worried about turning into one?" He offers the specials board a cursory glance. "I'll have tea. Black."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford rolls his eyes. "I've had my shots," he says as he grudgingly finds a mug in with all the rest of the junk behind the bar.

He doesn't do tea, as a rule. But he does know that it's somewhat similar to coffee, in that it requires hot water. And since he knows how a coffee machine works, that's what he uses to heat the water.

[herr_bookman]

"Your world has shots for werewolves? They must be a real problem, then," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "How'd you manage to get bit?"

[cottoncandypink]

"I took the wrong gun with me."

Also, he didn't know there would be a werewolf in the first place, but that sort of ties in to taking the wrong gun.

"Anyone ever tell you you ask a lot of questions?"

He watches the water level in the coffee pot, waiting for it to fill up enough to fill the mug he found.

[herr_bookman]

"I've been told," Autor says, staring at the coffee pot. "It's a habit. You can ask questions too, you know."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford pours the hot water into the mug and dunks the first tea bag he can find into it.

"All right. Why the hell have you been watching me, for one?" he asks as he slides the mug across the bar in Autor's general direction.

[herr_bookman]

Autor wraps his hands around the mug, pulling it close to him. "I watch everyone," he says, blowing on the hot leaf juice. "And guns make me nervous. You bring in guns, therefore you're a person of interest."

[cottoncandypink]

"You need to get a hobby."

Wilford can't believe he just said those words. But there they are. It's just been that kind of day, apparently.

"If I told you I am packing right now, then what?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor furrows his brow at him. "It's not like I can do anything to stop you. You know that better than I do."

[cottoncandypink]

"Where I come from, leaving your house unarmed is a good way to get yourself killed. I don't know about you, but I don't like getting killed."

He decides to pour himself a drink while he's back here. It's mostly whiskey, with just enough Coke to make it fizz.

[herr_bookman]

Autor sips his tea and grimaces at the watery taste. "Why were you shooting the elf dolls?"

[cottoncandypink]

Yeah, well. Wilford tried. It was the bare minimum of effort required, but that's still more than he usually puts into tea.

"'Cause I fucking hate those things."

Does he need any other reason?

[herr_bookman]

"That was evident from the way you were blowing them apart," Autor says, snorting. "Why do you hate them so much?"

[cottoncandypink]

Oh, dear sweet Jesus. This kid has questions for everything. Wilford would smack him, except that sort of thing is apparently frowned on around here.

"Because they asked too many questions," he says tiredly.

This is not even remotely true. It's just the first thing that popped into his mind, and he doesn't have much of a filter even at the best of times.

[herr_bookman]

Autor snorts again, but this time it's clear he's highly amused. "I see," he says, sipping his tea. At least it's hot. "So you don't like questions. Fair enough. I'll only ask one more: What's your name?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Again, that depends on who's asking," Wilford says.

And why. Why is a big part of it, actually. He half expects Autor to run off to narc on him as soon as he has a name to pass on to Security.

[herr_bookman]

"Don't worry, I won't use it against you," Autor says, running his thumb across the rim of his tea mug. "But if you really don't want to tell me, I can't force you."