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[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

A man sits at the bar, his dress shoes tucked under the beam of the stool he's currently perched upon. He's got a hell of a shiner and half a mind to believe the rumours now that he's got proof: lefties can throw a punch, and then can do it hard. His black bow tie is undone, lying limply around his neck. He's in deep discussion with Bar:

"No, that thing Hemingway said about drinking. You know what I'm talking about. 'Something something sober, you'd know better if you kept your mouth shut.' Come on, you've gotta' know this --" he leans forward, half imploring.

Bar produces a dry vodka martini and a copy of Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

Rick Castle takes a sip of the martini and uses the Bartlett's as a coaster. "Succinct," he says, "Hemingway would have liked that."

[ short, declarative tiny tag : rick castle ; kate beckett ]

Comments

[fanofthegenre]

A woman slowly approaches the bar, wearing the vestiges of a glamorous evening out. The curls of her hair are slightly loose, the makeup a little smudged, but underneath her coat, a red dress barely skims the floor as she marches over in heels that noisily tap, tap, tap against the wood. She seats herself beside Castle.

"You should really put something on that," Beckett says, motioning to the impressive bruise blossoming around his eye.

A brief shifting on the stool, and she produces her badge from under the skirt of her dress, setting it on top of the bar. Don't even ask where that came from; she's got a gun somewhere in there too.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

Castle shoulders his arms out of the way to make room for her. At her suggestion, he holds the edge of his martini glass against his cracked eye socket. "It's not so bad," he says. "Although, I am looking forward to a time when I can see straight without feeling my heartbeat in my eye." He takes the drink away from his face.

"Come on, let me buy you a drink. I owe you one for the benefit."

[fanofthegenre]

It's not a tough one for her to consider; she had been on duty previously, after all, and since there doesn't seem to be any risk of them getting called in, lots and lots of vodka seems to be the answer.

"You never did bring me my water," Beckett points out, frowning at his use of the martini glass.

"That's not going to work. Bar, an ice pack, please." One appears to the left of her, and she picks it up in a hand, nudging his arm down in order to press the cool bag against his eye - maybe a little too roughly.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

"Hey, come on --" Castle squirms like an eight year old trying to avoid getting a napkin-and-spit bath from his mother "-- people are watching, you're ruining the machismo."

[fanofthegenre]

"Fine." Beckett unceremoniously drops the cold pack in his lap and takes the opportunity to snag a sip of his martini. "You know, I'm almost convinced you want people to notice that black eye. Or should I say people of a certain female persuasion?"

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

He touches his fingertips to the ruined edge of his eye, scooping the ice pack from between his legs. She might have done that on purpose. He winces and settles the edge of the compress against his cheek. "You know, the objective of modern healing is to help people, not play rough."

A single eyebrow arches (it hurts) when she suggests he's using the black eye as a lure. He removes the compress and holds up his martini glass, studying his reflection. "It looks pretty manly, doesn't it?" he asks. "Kind of says 'I'm a provider' and 'I'd let you tie me up if it so happened that you were into that kind of thing'."

[fanofthegenre]

"I don't know," Beckett shrugs, shifting on the stool which (thankfully) rotates as she moves, otherwise wearing this dress would've become much more complicated. "In the past few weeks, you've been tackled, punched, nearly run over, and almost shot - and by me on that last one, no less. I'm tempted to think you have a death wish, Castle."

Her eyebrow mimics his eyebrow's upward movement and she shakes her head.

"Or a really weird kink that I want to know nothing about."

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

"I just want to know one thing," he says, his expression peaked with high expectation. "Do you like the dress?"

[kemo_soggy]

There are several different things about this bar. The damp guy who's giving Castle the 'oh hell no' eyeball from a bit down the bar is one of them.
Of course, Moist isn't sure if it is Captain Hammer yet (the black eye - and black tie, really - would appear to point to 'no'), but he thinks it's better to err on the side of 'oh hell no,' just in case.

(OOC: I hope this isn't too late; by the time I saw the post last night, I was too fried to tag in. Will be subject to slowtime this afternoon, but... yes.)

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

Castle's giving Bartlett a hard time, flipping through the massive index for the quotes related to alcohol, drinking and the existential dilemma. He gets a scrapey sensation on the back of his neck and turns his head, scoping the guy around the bend of the bar. He smiles, uncertain.

"How ya' doin?"

[kemo_soggy]

"That depends."
But... maybe it's not. Captain Hammer is never uncertain. So maybe he's worried about nothing, but... still erring on the side of 'oh hell no.'

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

"On --" Castle's eyes drift "-- what? The barometric pressure?"

[kemo_soggy]

"On whether I already know you or not. But I'm starting to think not."
Surely a pummeling would have ensued by now.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

"Is that going to be a problem?" He nods to the man's soggy drink. "If it is, can I get you another one of those?"

[kemo_soggy]

"What, not already knowing you? Definitely not a problem." He wasn't looking forward to a beating in what's supposed to be neutral territory.
"But if you feel like getting me another drink, I won't stop you. It's just water."

[penderwydd]

(OOC Mind an Iron Age Bard mistaking him for Bill Pardy?)

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

{OOC: Man, if I had a nickel. Sure! Bring him on by!}

[penderwydd]

(OOC just wait, I may bring in Cynan or Llew from Tegid's world, and they both know Bill >.>)

[penderwydd]

A man wearing a clean blue wool tunic and blue and red checked pants sat on a stool next to him. THere was an ornate harp slung across his back.

"Bill, when will you be ready to go to the wedding?" he asked.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

Castle turned, nearly getting a mouthful of tightly-strung strings. He glanced at the guy's ruddy face, then at Bar, as if he was missing something. "You talking to me?"

[penderwydd]

"Yes," laughed Tegid, "Are you not Bill Pardy from Earth?"

He's been here a while.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

"Bill Pardy," he repeated, trying to place the name. One of his characters? One of Patterson's characters? The name didn't fit. Castle made eyes at the large instrument slung across the other man's back, smiling gamely.

"Sorry. Rick Castle. New York, one-oh-one-one-nine." He nods to the harp. "I like your lyre. Very Renn Faire. 'You ever get a taxi wearing that thing?"

[penderwydd]

Tegid looked confused.

"It is not a liar" said Tegid a little put off. THe sound of his actual language could be heard from under the translation provided by bar. "This is my harp. What is a Taxi?"

Tegid may be a bard, he may be the chief bard of his Island, but he's been trapped here for a few seasons, and he's not above hitting someone at the moment.

[bestsellingego.livejournal.com]

Castle raised his hands in defense. This guy looked like he could chew on a couple of bar stools and then still have enough of an appetite to come back for more. He was exactly the kind of character Castle had put into one of his earlier works, Storm Threat, which had Derek Storm going up against a wing of the IRA.

"Taxi?" he repeated dumbly, then decided a change of subject would be appropriate. "Buy you a drink?"

[penderwydd]

Tegid calmed down a bit and shook his head. He had his hands pressed on the surface of the bar.

"I am sorry, it has been a stressing time. Summer is almost upon us again," he looked behind him at the place where his door should be, "And yet I have no door. Do you come from a similar world to that of Bill Pardy?"

I'm sorry, he's still edgy. Part of it was the doppelganger plot that brought back the dreams from the Kingdom Hospital plot. And then there is the being stuck in Milliways thing, yeah.