milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

asher,
evan lorne

(no subject)

Lorne is...feeling out of sorts.

Which generally means it's time to take a break, so he's rather pleased to find himself in Milliways tonight. For a given value of 'pleased'.

The nice thing about Milliways, he figures, is that you can drink as much as you like, sleep off the hangover, and be back at work every bit as fresh as when you left.

So there's an Air Force major, at the bar, with a half-full pint of beer and two shots of tequila lined up.

tiny-soon-to-be-inebriated!tag: Evan Lorne

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Asher descends to the bar from his room, still glowing slightly with good-humor and a full meal the night before, his skin appearing almost humanly pale.

He has no book to read, and so goes to the bar, hoping to be provided with entertainment. Settling on a stool a short distance away from the stranger, he eyes the man's drinks.

"You certainly waste no time," he murmurs.

Lorne eyes the man down the bar and arches an eyebrow at him before knocking back one of the shots. "Don't have the time to waste."

"And yet I was under the impression one has all the time in the world, here," Asher murmurs, amused by the man's ill-humour. He'll leave him be, if it's made clear his company is unwelcome.

"Yeah, that's what they want you to think," Lorne says. "Until your door starts pulling at you."

Asher tilts his head, intrigued.

"I have never felt such a thing. Does it happen often to you?"

"No, not often," Lorne admits, eyeing his next shot. "I usually leave before I feel it."

Of course, that's because home has a pull of its own.

Asher nods. It has not been the same for him until very recently, but he understands how one could want to - or need to - leave the bar.

"And where is home, if I may ask?"

Lorne smiles faintly. "A galaxy far, far away."

Asher arches an eyebrow. He is not entirely ignorant of popular culture, after all.

"And are you one of the rebel alliance? Or should I expect an invisible grip upon my throat should I anger you?" He teases, though in this place, he expects anything.

"Who me?" Lorne says, sounding a little surprised at the question, though that's probably mostly just the tequila talking. "Oh, I'm nobody. The Force is not strong with this one."

"In my experience, no one who has found the way to Milliways is 'nobody'." He leans on the bar, golden hair sliding over one shoulder.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. I am Asher."

"Lorne," he says, offering a hand to shake. It's one of those habits that several years in another galaxy should have broken him of, but hasn't. "Nice to meet you."

Asher shakes his hand, his skin perhaps a little on the cool side, but not enough to tip Lorne off to anything...odd.

"The pleasure is mine. May I buy you another drink?"

Lorne looks at the glasses in front of him and tosses back his last shot.

"Sure. I never turn down a free drink."

Asher tosses his credit card onto the bar, asking the Bar to wipe his balance clean, at the same time as ordering Lorne another round of drinks.

"And my usual, if you please," he adds, knowing that he cannot buy Lorne a drink and not have one himself - not without seeming rather odd. Hopefully, he can pass it off as a Bloody Mary.

Lorne barely glances at Asher's drink, sipping the beer in front of him instead.

"So where're you from?" he asks. "And when, I guess. Still forget to ask that sometimes."

"I come to the bar from St Louis, Missouri, in 1997," he murmurs, "though I was born in the Ardeche in France."

Lorne chuckles dryly. "Yeah, you don't sound like you're from Missouri."

Asher smiles faintly. "And for that I am eternally grateful." He shudders delicately. "There are worse accents, of course, but...well, I prefer my own, let us leave it at that."

Lorne smirks. "M'boyfriend's from Missouri. Always kinda liked his accent."

Asher shrugs an entirely gallic shrug, unconcerned that he may have offended Lorne - though, Lorne's smirk suggests that he does not.

"I am not a particular fan, though my partner is from St Louis, so I cannot say they are displeasing to my ear. Your boyfriend, does he come here, too?"

"Yup," Lorne says. "Lives here." He frowns. "Kind of. He's...um...dead."

"He is one of those bound to the bar?" Asher asks, nodding gently. "A friend of mine is the same - though he seems to like it here, and has grown happier than I think he ever was as a man."

Lorne nods. "Yeah. I used to think that too."

Asher cocks his head.

"Used to? Is he not as happy now?" Nosy Asher is nosy.