milliways_bar | (no subject)

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*Outside the pub. He replays the night's row in his head for the umpteenth time. It just serves to make him more angry. He can hear his brother and father scolding him as if they were there. Warning him that he shouldn't be drinking. He shouldn't be topside. And most importantly, he shouldn't be drinking topside. He takes a deep breath, and opens the door and scans the room quickly, keeping an eye out for potential exits and shadows. He sees on particularly shady corner of the bar, and heads straight for it. Half way there he pulls his knit cap down further on his head and then quickly thrusts his hands into the pockets of his overcoat.*

Yo! Bartender! Double Jack. No ice. And keep'em comin'.
Hey, Bartender!

*He finally looks up and takes in the scene that lay before him*
*His jaw drops*
Great googly moogly.

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*passes over requested drink* *unfolds wings, just for fun*

I don't think we've met, have we?

*takes drink and shoots it without breaking eyecontact*
*leans in*

Look, I don't mean to be rude, or nothin'...cause far be it from me to judge other folks....but...is this one of them Furry Bars?

It's okay, if it is. It's not my thing, but what ever trips your trigger, right?!

No. It's really not. Trust me, man.

You're a long, long way from home, which is New York, judging from your accent.

*sighs in relief*
Good, those freaks really scare the bejeesus outta me. I'll never understand why people like to dress up like animals.

*blinks*
Long long way from home?
And here I thought I was in The Village.
I'll take another Jack, if you'd be so kind.

Oh and the name?
*holds out hand*
Call me Raph.

*shakes hand* Bartleby. And man, how come furries scare you? You're a turtle.

*fetches Jack*

You'd be scared too if you'd seen what I seen.
See, I got this brother who loves comics, right? And he really wants to go to this convention. So somehow I get stuck going with him. Only it's not a comic convention...it's a furry convention.

He thinks it's a gas. Starts hitting on anything he thinks is a chick. That's the way he is. So while he's macking it up, I'm wandering and wondering how many limbs I have to chew off to get the hell outta dodge.

that's when I see them. A whole group of people in turtle and reptile costumes. Heh, you think my eyes bugged out when I got here...you shoulda seen me then!

*laughs*

So, a New York turtle. You gotta story, man?

Heh, you say that like it'd make total sense if I was from anywhere else. Way I see it, New York is the only place someone like me could come from.

'Course I got a story. Got lots of stories. Which one do you want first?

Well, I mean, being an angel and all, I can think of some other places. *grins*

Start from the beginning, why not? I've got time. *starts polishing glasses again*

An angel huh? That explains the wings. Doesn't quite explain the "workin' in bar" part though.
*yawns and stretches*
Alrighty.
Back story. Um, okay. My brothers and I are the results of intergalactic chemical waste gone amok. Splinter, he's like our father and mentor, raised us and taught us everything we know. We've got a couple of friends topside, but mostly we keep to ourselves. Can't imagine the mainstream taking to us all that well. We make do alright....when we aren't at each other's throats.

I needed to get some air tonight. Had a row with one of my brothers. I thought I was taking the sewer passage to The Village. People tend to not notice freaks round those parts. Heh, seems I may have found somewhere better.

So now that I've told you far more than someone with my skill set should ever tell anyone....what's your deal?

Tried to cancel out existence, man. God appears to have given me a second chance. Although, since my wings got hacked off, I'm not realy sure why I've still got them.

*blinks*
Dang.
*takes a sip of drink*
Maybe, like, your bell rang at the right time. Isn't that how you lot get your wings?

No clue, dude. *unfurls wings and shakes them* But my life's fairly confusing at the moment.

I second that emotion.

We cater to all kinds in here, sir. Many of our clientele find it a very...relaxing atmosphere where one can be wing'ed or fuzzy or possibly green, if one so chooses.

I myself enjoy not having to wear a pointy hat all the time, for example.

Heh, pointy hat.
So uh, *pulls off cap to reveal bald green head* this is cool then?

*eyes coolly*

Indeed, sir. Would it be polite to ask if you were perhaps stuck halfway through an Animagus ritual? Almost happened to -- er -- a friend of mine.

If anyone harasses you, just shout. Or handle it yourself, though we do have a strong anti-disembowellment policy. Death comes in here sometimes and she does so hate to have to be "on the job" as it were.

*blinks*
A what ritual?
Is that like devil worshipper stuff?
Nah man, just good ol' fashioned chemical waste. You know alligators they say live in the sewers? Well they're half right.

Oh, and don't worry about me.
*smirks*
*Opens coat just enough to reveal pommel of sai*
I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself.

Chemical waste? Muggles did that?

My god, they're getting better at this kind of thing every day...

Please do remember, no disembowelling. *vaguely worried look*

*is mid swallow*
No. Not Muggles. Utroms.
Utroms are like aliens. Well, actually they are aliens. Look like brains with faces and legs.
I'd say I'm one of a kind, but there are four of us. Five if you count Master Splinter.

What do Muggles look like?
*totally ignores the remark about disembowelling*

Brains with faces, eh? That can't be fun.

Muggles look like me...er. Human. Regular humans that is, the sort without wings or, erm, shells.

They just can't do magic, so we feel very sorry for them.

*raises glass in a toast*
Here's to the regular bastards. May they not drown in their own normalcy.

What an awful thought *agreeably*

*tops off your glass*

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