milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The first thing Doc sees when he opens his eyes is the top of Bar smashed up against his face.

Ow, that hurts.

The second thing Doc sees when he opens his eyes is Will, slumped over next to him, his face also smashed into Bar.

That really can't be comfortable.

Upon sitting up, Doc realizes that for one thing, his head really, really hurts. His mouth is dry and he feels like he fell off of a horse and rolled down a cliff, sore back and neck and everything's a little bit fuzzy.

There's a memory of singing and another brief hint of some poetry, and women's breasts...

"What the fargin' 'ell," he groans, before he reaches out a hand to poke the other outlaw. Maybe Will remembers something.

((Two pups, two muns, one post! It's a special. Both Doc and Will are here, and hung over, feel free to poke them as they look horribly miserable after having passed out and spent the night sleeping on Bar.))

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Will looks at Rabastan and blinks a couple of times,

"Name's na Weasley, tis Scarlett, bloody wizard."

"Name's Doc," comes the response, from the very comfortable man who's resting his head on the pillow given by Bar, on the bar.

Mmph. Moving his head takes effort but he manages.

"You sure?" Rabastan continues to tease. Then flicks Will's ear. Just to annoy. "Hair's red like a Weasley."

He then looks at the other man who's clearly alive after all.

"Hello Doc. Been keeping Weasley out of trouble while he's mullered eh?"

Only thing that would make this Kodak Moment perfect is a camera.

...if Bar's not too wasted he can ask her for one...

The flicking gets a glare from Will who after a few moments remembers that Draco called him a Weasley too.

Luckily the pillow is comfortable so Will doesn't try and hurt Rabastan and he's going to drink his water,

"Leave Doc alone, twas all the pirate's fault, goin' to kill 'im when we're na dyin'."

Bar's probably not too wasted to refuse the wizard a camera.

"Gonna get him. Ne'er had rum before the pirate gave me some, liked it, but oh Christ," Doc mutters. "Head's poundin'."

No she's not. And [hopefully] neither of the two clearly half-cut gentlemen at the bar will recognise the camera brand Rabastan is asking for.

"The pirate?" he asks with mock surprise. "The one who helped Bar get pickled? That pirate?"

"Aye, Cap'n Jack Sparrow, goin' to get 'im for this once me 'ead stops 'urtin'."

Will risks and nod and it works, painkillers are finally starting to work.

Doc doesn't know cameras. Doc wouldn't recognize one of the newer cameras on the market today.

He's still leaning on the bar, one arm around Will to keep from falling.

"Everytime I move, feel like m'gonna fall down."

From the sounds of it the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards are performing an impressive tattoo in their heads.

"Perhaps you should not stand?" Rabastan supplies helpfully. Enjoying this far too much.

I'd ask you to smile for the camera, but then I couldn't take a couple snaps of you two, he says, pointing the camera at the rat-arsed pair and taking a photo.

Will turns to look at Rabastan since that's a weird thing to say,

"Na goin' to stand for a bit, when me 'ead stops 'urtin', goin' to go to me warm bed an na move."

"Agreed. Warm bed and not moving, maybe a bath tomorrow when I can handle the stairs tonight to get up."

Because it's a very long climb up the stairs.

"Y'know," he says, even though only one of the two actually does know what he's going to be talking about, "I could levitate the pair of you to your respective beds."

He waits for them to respond in their individual ways, then continues on.

"One at a time though, and the one I send to bed first will be the sickest dog out of the two of you."

Really it is hard not to laugh but gold star for Rabastan who isn't laughing just smirking. A lot.

Rabastan gets a glare from Will,

"Na magic, can walk back up on our own."

Doc just blinks. A lot. Then looks at Will, then looks at Rabastan.

"Magic? What? You're fargin' joking, right?"

Right?

...no?

The wand's not likely to convince Doc all on its own, but a tap to Doc's pillow has turned it into a full-sized goose.

"I'm not joshing," he says, "I do magic."

The goose is returned to its original pillow state.

Another glare is sent towards Rabastan,

"Aye, 'e can do magic, Doc, but 'e's an awful fighter,"

There's a pat on Doc's shoulder since Will's not going to let Rabastan to anything to Doc since Rabastan didn't want to join in the drinking last night.

Doc nearly leaves his stool when the pillow turns into the goose, swearing and instinctively going for the holster, or where his holster would be, if the gun wasn't upstairs, and his eyes are wide and his heartrate just went through the roof and then some.

Words? Hah. No.

Just an OMGWTF look on his face.

Will's remark about Rabastan's combat skills earns the outlaw another flick to the ear. Like Will can do as well with a wand in his hand as Rabastan did with a sword in his...

"Perhaps not the best animal to turn that pillow of yours into but you are rather intoxicated and likely to miss something more subtle than that."

Slytherin Logic for ya.

"Anyways, which one of you two needs the most help in getting into your beds to sleep it off all proper-like?"

The flick is not a smart idea on Rabastan's part since Will grabs his wrist before he gets a chance to flick Will's ear,

"Stop doin' that, if ye're only goin' to mock an be an ass, get the 'ell 'way from us."

Doc instinctively perks and raises his eyes to the two of them, watching Will's hands and Rabastan's wand in his own hand, their eyes.

He really doesn't want to have to break something up.

"I'll be able to walk, 'ventually."

He reaches for the pillow and pokes at it.

"Leave off you oik," he grumps at Will, tugging his hand back. "I did pretty well with a sword, all things considered. And the two of you are something to smile about. I'm not the one sleeping on the bar breathing into a pillow!"

Sigh. This isn't going as well as he hoped it would. But then his intention was to laugh at them.

"That pillow isn't going to change into anything unless I use my wand on it, so you can relax."

Pause.

"Would you two gentlemen like a pair of blankets to keep you cozy while the rum wears off?"

Will releases Rabastan's wrist but there's still a glare there,

"Aye, ye did, but 'ow would ye feel if we did the same to ye when ye 'ad a 'ango'er? We'll be fine, 'ave water an pain pills, just need a wee bit o'time tis all."

Doc pushes himself up off the stool and tests his balance. Now that the wizard has gotten him worked up a bit, his brain has decided to rejoin the conversation and get him woken up.

But he still can't quite stand up straight.

"Just need to get my balance."

"You were laughing at me earlier because I wouldn't join you in your drunken reverie," he complains. "Said I wasn't fun."

Nope. Not laughing very much now.

"I've been laughed at over worse and by men who'd make the Sheriff look saintly. Being laughed at over a hangover is nothing."

He pulls up a chair and sits down.

"Come off it mate, I was just taking the mickey. And you two were golden opportunities, you have to admit."

With his wand he conjures a couple of mugs of coffee: one for Will, one for Doc.

Will puts his head in his hands and takes a deep breathe and thinks of Molly, which helps a bit then lifts his head and smiles at Rabastan,

"Forgive me, an aye, guess we are. Thank ye for the coffee and forgive for bein' an ass last night, just wanted to make ye smile. I owe ye for listenin' to me drunken singin', just tell me what I can do for ye."