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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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."

Doc...definitely not standing up. He leans back against the bar and closes his eyes.

"How the hell you do that with the pillow and the goose?"

The coffee, he doesn't double take. Hello, Bar makes coffe from thin air, but seeing a human does it makes him confused.

"No you don't have to apologise for anything, I should," he says, having a moment of clarity. The mention of the Death Eaters has made him think more than he has lately.

He's behaving exactly like those Death Eaters who used him for sport and a means of keeping others in line by way of example. Just, over something else. And through measures seemingly innocent.

If anyone should know better it's Rabastan.

"I'm being a real jerk to you here, as well as lately, and I'm sorry. And you owe me nothing."

He gives Will a pat.

"Really mate."

Now he's looking at Doc.

"Sorry about the goose trick, that wasn't very funny. And it's magic. All done with a wand. I will it, it appears."

The apology confuses Will a little bit, but its a nice surprise and this time the smile looks a lot better as he puts milk and sugar in his coffee with a smile at Rabastan,

"Nay, ye're doin' fine, tis always 'ard learnin' yer way 'round folks tis all. Ne'er found out if ye e'er ended up gettin' a decent feed last night? If na, 'ave a bite on me. An, Doc, 'e can do 'mazin' things, really lovely like in the stories."

"Kind of like how Bar makes things appear," Doc gathers, with a not. "And 'pologies accepted, s'not like it hurt me, just scared the hell out of me."

A slight chuckle.

"Bonney would've been having a riot over it, no harm done. Thank you for the coffee, sir," Doc adds. Remembering his manners.

He's feeling a little better now that he has apologised. Poor Will must be feeling like he's at his wit's end over the way the older man is acting.

"I'm learning my way around people too," he says. "Been a while since I had regular face-to-face contact—even after a year here, and, well, you see the results. And Bar gave me something to eat. It was ... tomato-y and slippery and stringy and smelled like fish."

He nods at Doc. If Doc's not holding anything against it then, well... No harm no foul.

"You're welcome. Figure it'd do you both some good to get a cuppa in. Wake you up a little."

Will's glad to see Rabastan doing better and the coffee tastes lovely espeically after its been lightened a good bit, in some ways, Will is just rather English,

"Aye, an ye're doin' fine, glad ye got somethin' to eat then."

Doc drinks his black. He's used to grounds floating about in it and it being lukewarm or scorched from being heated over the fire.

It was just a goose. If he'd had his gun, they would have had a problem.

Because dead goose all over Bar, eh, no thanks.

He sips at his coffee and swallows, enjoying the bitter bite of it to wake him up.

"Least wasn't rocks in your drink, 'stead of ice."

"Actually there was a few pieces of pumice in my drink this morning. Didn't ask for anything on the rocks; they just, well, appeared."

He laughs a little.

That? Is funny.

"She also gave me scrambled eggs with shells in them. Think she's still a bit loopy."

"Oh, na surprised considerin' 'ow much she 'ad to drink, pirate just kept it comin', 'e's 'bout as bad as 'ellboy is with beer."

Will nods very firmly at that as he takes another sip of coffee,

"Ne'er drink with 'ellboy 'less ye know 'xcatly 'ow much ye wish to drink."

Will's accent still takes getting used to. But Doc manages, somewhat, and then snorts softly.

"Not going to be drinking more than a dram or two for awhile," Doc promised. "And definitely no rum."

Not until they get that pirate.

But the wizard's name escapes him.

"Forgive me, sir, but if you introduced yourself, I was to hungover to remember," Another sip of coffee.

"Probably for the best. And nothing from Bar until she recovers. From the sounds of it Jack got her utterly soaked."

So busy with making fun of Will and Doc he'd forgotten to tell Doc who he is.

Oops.

"I'm Rabastan Lestrange, by the way. From England, though you can probably tell."

"Aye, sounds a fair plan an we'll make sure the pirate pays."

The coffee is being good and Will feels more awake and though his head hurts, its not as bad as before.

"Doc Scurlock. United States."

He sips at the coffee and then stifles a yawn as he sits there at the bar.

"1878."

"Ah. An American. I've been to America. Some place called "Detroit".

Pause.

"It was 1997 when I came here, though given the way the Magical World works, it might as well be 1697."

The coffee is good and Will just nods at what Rabastan says, not really paying that much attention since coffee is helping a lot,

"Aye, though ne'er seen any folks but monks wear robes like ye do."

Doc nods. "Most people here at the Bar don't wear anything close to what I'm used to," he says. "Some...sort of but most not."

A pause, for thought.

"Detroit's up north. By Canada."

"We all do," he says, smiling. "It's a kind of tradition. Though perhaps I could get used to Muggle clothing."

It'd be far more practical when learning to use the sword and the bow [but not the axe unless there's a Dwarf about].

"Canada. I've been there. More often than I visited America, which was only the once. It's quite nice there. Not too populated which makes setting up a Wizarding community quite easy."

"Aye, tradition tis 'mportant. When went through to 'merica was big cities and too big, couldna e'en see the sky."

It would be for the best if Rabastan wore more practical clothing for training, but Will hasn't figured out how to bring it up yet.

Doc nods. "Americans...they think that they need to take over everything. Land for everyone, everything has to be owned, even though people already been there, the indians, like Chavez," he says. "But New Mexico ain't like that, plenty of open sky."

He likes the idea of open sky.