(no subject)

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells slips into the Bar from upstairs, pausing at the bar only to pick up dinner and his usual pint of Bass. There's no one at the booth he likes, so he appropriates the table, sets the folder marked GRUINARD ISLAND down nearby, and starts in on dinner. He'll go over the plans later; there's some stuff in there he really doesn't want to try to read while eating.

Comments

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

Leaning against the bar near where he sits is a young man in a smart suit nursing a glass of wine and looking quietly irritated with the swollen condition of his red/pink hand. He seems to be muttering something.

"Little prick."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells glances over at the other fellow, eyebrows raised. "Somethin' wrong?" he asks. "There's doctors about for that, y'know."

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head and huffs in irritation before looking towards the person speaking to him.

"No, no, it's all right," he answers, the soft tenor currently sporting a lilting Irish accent. "Just slammed m'hand in the door is all. Nothing to cause a fuss over."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"All right," says Wells, who's more than happy to avoid medical types anyway. Bit of an argument, was it?"

The man... well, let us be honest; he smells irritated, but this is not the sort of thing you say to people.

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

He raises an eyebrow.

"What gives you that idea, sir?"

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Most men don't look that angry with themselves for an accident with a door," says Wells. "If someone else makes 'em mad, now, that's another story."

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

He nods.

"M'girl. She's been telling me how she's looking for commitment and how I need to stop leaving the apartment every time she mentions her mother and I--"

He shakes his head.

"You know what I mean?"

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells exhales. "Fuckin' hell, that takes me back," he says. "The wife and I had those arguments years ago. Yeah, I know what you mean. Sorry t'hear that, mate. M'name's Harry Wells, by the way."

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

"Brian Kennedy," he answers, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"The same," says Wells, shaking the offered hand. "Been here in Milliways long?"

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

He nods.

"For some time, but I tend to keep to myself."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Bit of a zoo around here," Wells says sagely. "Can't say I blame you. Had that urge at first meself."

[de-thiel.livejournal.com]

He shrugs.

"Well, it's more habit than anything."

[alwaysroomforhope]

"Hi..."

There's a girl perched cross-legged on the back wall of the booth, looking at him steadily and curiously.

"You're Zuko's - not-quite-dad, right? Mr Wells?"

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells looks up from his plans (dinner's long since gone) and blinks. "Er, yeah," he says. "That'd be me. Do I know you, miss?"

[alwaysroomforhope]

"Um, probably not. I was the one who got Zuko celled a while back. For fighting. I'm Steph."

Fidget.

Fidget.

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Ah," says Wells, looking the girl over- and possibly smelling the air a bit, because it helps when you're trying to get a handle on someone new. "I'd been wondering why he didn't want to talk about it. Nice t'meet you, Steph."

He offers one hand for the shaking.

[alwaysroomforhope]

She slips down into the seat opposite him, for easier shaking of hands.

"And you, too, sir."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

That's simply enough done, then. He smiles a little; she looks nervous, to say the least. "So," he asks. "What can I help you with?"

(OOC: Must gobed RL, I fear. Shall we pick this up on the morrow?)

[alwaysroomforhope]

[ooc: oh yes! XD]

"Zuko," Steph says, plainly. "Explain Zuko to me. Please."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

Wells glances over his shoulder a moment. You never know who might be enjoying your wholly unlooked-for situation.

"Christ Almighty, where d'you want me to start?" he asks at last.

[alwaysroomforhope]

"Uh. Anywhere would be a help." She spreads her hands helplessly. "I don't get him."

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"A'right," Wells says, pushing his folder aside and fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "We can start simple, I guess. D'you know anything at all about his world? Near as I can tell, it's a bit like the sort of thing you see in samurai movies and those costume historical things out of Hong Kong..."

[alwaysroomforhope]

She shakes her head, listening. "Only that it's, like, vaguely medieval, and there are the four tribes with different powers."

Is he about to lead her to enlightenment on the Path of Zuko? COULD IT BE? ... yeah, anything's possible, right?

[milkbonesoldier.livejournal.com]

"Medieval's not really the right word for it," Wells says. "I mean, yeah, it's swords and armour and such, but 'medieval' sort of makes it all sound European. His world's a hell of a lot more like ancient China, with some of the Japanese stuff mixed in. Especially his bit of it, 'cos when you get raised as a prince you take the whole damned mess seriously, unlike us grubby lowborn types." He grins. He knows where he'd stand in any pecking order out there.