milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Captain Ryan comes down from upstairs smelling faintly of smoke. Extremely sensitive noses can detect a variety of metals about him (but no silver). He's scowling as he heads towards Bar, left hand held slightly up and away from his body.

One of his pieces slipped.

[OOC: Bed now. Post open till off the front page.]

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He's getting watched from a table near the Bar. The person who's watching him doesn't have an extremely sensitive nose, just a strong sense of self awareness.

And he may have seen some pissed off people in bars before, most of those situations ended badly, so it doesn't hurt to be careful.

It's been a long time since he slipped with a piece. He puts his hands on Bar's surface, left palm up. If Han's eyes are sharp, he can see some sort of pattern burned into the skin there. Ryan mutters something and a bowl of cold clear water appears. He nods thanks and, showing a brief display of teeth, drops his hand into the liquid.

Oooow.

Han cringes. He has sharp eyes and he catches the hint of a pattern, and well...he can't help but sit up a little further to watch this.

That has to hurt.

It's getting better!

No, really. The moon wasn't all that long ago and his healings still pretty high from that. It won't be instantaneous, but give it an hour or two and he'll be fine.

In the meantime: owwwww. He gives a little frustrated growl before settling on a stool. He's going to be here a while, he realizes. Which means it's time to survey the bar and make certain no ~~psychotic werewolves~~ ~~crazy fire children~~ one's going to try and take a shot at him.

"What?" he rumbles (quite literally) at the kid watching him.

That gets a jump (a little one, okay, he's not scared easily, not at all) from the kid.

"Sorry sir. Just...well you're the most interestin' person down here right now."

And he's nosy.

He gets points for the 'sir'. He loses them for classifying Ryan as entertainment.

Ryan frowns, catching and holding the kid's eyes. It's a challenge among wolves. "A bar at the end of the universe and all you can find to look at is me?"

"For the moment?"

Han holds the gaze for only a few seconds, before he looks down in a hurry, his own lasered now at the table top. When it comes to older males, Han doesn't make the mistake of trying to be dominant. He's been...trained well.

"Not often you see someone walkin' in like you did, sir. My apologies."

Ryan frowns a moment longer, watching the younger man but no longer going for eye contact. "Fair enough," he says eventually, taking a moment to look over his hand. The water's warming, and not just from his burn. He's going to have to change bowls in a few minutes.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he adds gruffly. Or at least it won't be.

"Found the Bar's good at takin' care of people who come in hurt."

First hand experience, much? Oh yes.

"Small hurts," Ryan corrects, before adding in an undertone to Bar, "No offence.

"The infirmary's better for anything larger." He's spent a week or two in there before, thanks to Zuko. This burn, thankfully, was just from a piece of superheated copper.

"They got an infirmary?"

How he missed that he has no idea.

"Well kriff," he mutters, before he has a drink from his ale. "Wish I'd known that last week."

"Through that door there," Ryan gestures with his good hand.

That last sentence has him sticking his head slightly forward, nostrils slightly flared as he takes a deep breath. There's a moment where he shoves the usual bar smells aside and focuses on the kid's scent. There's a faint whiff of blood, old and dry. More prevalent is the pain in the air. Together, the two scents remind Ryan that he hasn't had lunch yet.

There's a flicker of hunger in his face before he turns back to Bar and orders a sandwich (roast beef). "Not too late," he points out before taking a bite.

Han glances with Ryan's instructions towards the door, spots the few medical looking things he can see, then nods as he turns back.

"Thank you, sir. I'll check it out."

A beat.

"And sorry for disturbin' you."

At least the kid's polite about it. Very few other patrons are.

"Forgiven," Ryan says dismissively.

"What attacked you?" he asks after a moment.

"Who," he correct, carefully. "Wasn't really an' attack, just..."

Punishment. The hell of it. For fun.

"...just a...disagreement, suppose."

That was vague enough he can't tell if it's a lie or not.

"Some disagreement," Ryan says, eyeing him over his sandwich, "to qualify for the infirmary."

Its the smoke that makes Tumnus turn, because it makes him think of houses found burning with statues in them,

"Are you hurt?"

Once upon a time, the answer to that would have been 'What do you think, moron?' That no longer holds true. Weak alphas get overthrown, weak wolves die.

"Barely," Ryan answers stiffly, before turning to see who spoke.

That's...new. There's a reflexive shift to something faintly more predatory in Ryan's stance. He's probably not even aware of it.

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