Bartending - Tuco

[el_feo]

Tuco has not been having a good month. The door remains infuriatingly not-appeared, to the point where he's starting to doubt it will ever appear at all. Worse, it's absolutely freezing outside. He can't possibly go out in that - how the hell can anybody? So instead, he's stayed here, keeping himself fed on greasy frontier food and self-medicating on throat-burning frontier whiskey.

It takes him at least five minutes to notice the napkin when it appears.

Tuco strains his eyes to read. "Take a shift of...b-bart..."

He snarls. "Why don't you do it yourself, you son of a bitch? Lock me in here in this freezing -"

Another napkin appears.

"You bitch," he corrects himself. "Don't think I haven't thought about burning this place -"

Another one.

Tuco sighs. "Fine, we'll do it your way. Bad enough just being here as it is, I don't want to see none of the inside of your jail."

He pulls himself up over the bar and sets his feet down on the other side. He hastily scrawls a barely-legible message onto a piece of tagboard.

Anithing you like, as long as its wisky.

Care to approach the sullen-looking bandit behind the bar?

(off duty)

[scarred_grin]

There's nothing particularly interesting to see here, just a mildly scruffy god (bed-hair, stubble, jeans, faded Ziggy Stardust t-shirt, barefoot) on the couch, painting his fingernails a nice shade of copper.

Look, it's not about you, or anybody else for that matter--today he's no god, no demon, no focus of any rebellion. Today he is just a man desperately trying to hold together a failing alliance, just long enough to accomplish the goal he doesn't even normally let himself think about, because if he thinks about it too much it will affect how he acts, and he can't afford that right now. But today, here while he is taking a day just for himself, to prepare himself for the assault on the Ironwood, he is thinking about it.

He's going to get his wife out of that cave, and bring her here, and draw her a hot bath--and after that, whatever she wants, for a few thousand years at least. He'll wait on her hand and foot if she wants, and doesn't she deserve it? He's always known he had the only faithful wife in Asgard (and not just because she was married to the biggest threat to other women's fidelity) but he'd had no idea just how devoted she would be. She's no longer the girl he married, but he's not the same man anymore either, and won't they have quite a time getting to know each other again, when they're both free?

He'll do whatever it takes to get there, even play Weyland's devoted wife. He's done worse things in his time.

Botherable; just don't expect cleverness or trickery or showy magic. He's off-duty today.

Multi-pup post -- outside near dusk

[ostro_goth]

There is snow on the ground, and the occasional flake still falling; but between the clouds, there are the traces of a red, early sunset casting a colourful path across the half-frozen lake. The solstice isn't far away now; the days are short, and daylight is scarce. So, people make the best of it while it still lasts.

• Teja, for example, is by the forge, roaring furnace fire visible through the open doors, and he's fetching another sack of charcoal from his stores while he can still see outside without a torch. Buckets are standing ready, so he can fetch more water before the sun sets completely. In the forge, many projects are begun, but much work, and some commissions, are finished, also.
  
• Urquhart is working with his dog. The commands to fetch, carry, stay, jump etc. are getting convoluted and layered. At the moment, the dog seems to be busy jumping logs to fetch a snow-sodden bunny fur thing while ignoring some dog biscuits placed strategically along the way. Urquhart watches closely and occasionally gives a command or whistle.
• Not all is well with one Ned Poins tonight -- he staggers from the inn, bleary and wan, and kneels upon the snow, and groans, and gathers up the fallen snow within his hands, and throws it in his face as if to wash away the stain of sin with its unblemished whiteness.

[[OOC: Say in your tag who you want -- doubles as a forge post!]]

First Entrance

[aintwortha]

Things changed immediately. Achilles works with them, honing the tactics, working to avoid giving themselves away so soon. Bean didn't bother much, none of them really liked him, and he had no other ideas, so he did his best to keep to the background.

Except for a couple of smart-arse comments at the door. Not that Achilles seemed to mind, given it had done exactly what it had been intended to do. Make him seem small, weak, and in need of protecting, to the lady on the door. Which just reinforced the arguments Achilles had been placing about a light outside and a policeman for line security.

He kept to the background for the next few weeks, too. They had his best. If he kept reminding them he was there, they'd start getting more annoyed about him being there. Not worth it.

But, Achilles never accepted him. Him and Poke. They're doomed, it's just a question of when.

One day, though, he exits the den where they hid out for most of the day, alone.

And he's not where he was.

He's inside. The room is large, and nicely furnished. Not that he actually knows what that means. It looks nicer than Helga's kitchen, anyway.

Milliways, there's one tiny kid who's just walked in and frozen in the door way. Meet Bean.

[ooc: Bean is 4, but physically, he looks like a two-year-old. A two-year-old who has been living on the edge of starvation for his entire life, until the past couple of weeks.]

(no subject)

[crabbycustomer]

It's back. Somehow....

( ATTENTION BAR DENIZENS )

He is definitely not anywhere in sight, but he might be available to chat.