milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

The man who's just entered the bar doesn't do anything so mundane as look surprised to be here. That's not something someone like him does. He just quirks an eyebrow on his tanned face, and shoves his cigar between his teeth.

'Thought I'd shook you for good,' he mutters, but if he sounds irritated he's also made a liar by the grin spreading across his face. And he certainly wastes no time in ordering a bottle of good tequila, and a large steak dinner.

[OOC: Open for tagging all through tomorrow as well. And, Happy New Year, everyone. :)]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Urquhart is leaning by the fireplace, watching Ramon and debating whether to let at least eat his dinner before going over to bait him, and then call Security on him.

It might cost him a night or two in the cells, but that might be worth it.

To all intents and purposes, Ramon looks like he's completely uninterested in the rest of the bar, and its patrons.

Whether anyone believes this to be true or not depends on their estimation of the man.

Urquhart is waiting, calmly, having decided to let the man have his dinner.

It will also mean that he has more to puke, just in case.

Considering how long he's taking over it, it could be imagined that Ramon does know he's being watched, and is dragging it out as long as possible.

When the last bite is done, he places the knife and fork precisely, and pushes the plate away. Then he has a drink, and relights his cigar. Only when a rat has cleared the plate, and he's slouched comfortably back in his seat does he look up at Urquhart, and smirk.

'Still here, then?'

"You still have eyes, then?" Urquhart answers.

He picks up a dried date from a nearby side table, and eats it, then spits the pit into the fire.

'And no different, I see,' he says drily, and drains his glass.

'Though I don't know why I should expect anything else.'

Not that he did, of course.

"Why should I change?" Urquhart says. "I'm quite perfect as I am after all."

He snorts immediately, and pulls on his cigar.

Because, yeah. No.

'I liked you better when you were a corpse. The kind that doesn't walk around.'

"The kind you could eat, you mean, in the shape you were in?" Urquhart says.

'Why would I want to eat you? I doubt very much you'd be to my taste, no matter what the current shape was.'

Seriously. Ew.

He has another slow drink.

'Besides. If I'd wanted to, I could have.'

"As far as I know, you did," Urquhart says. "Hardly any part of me was found."

Hmm. News to him.

'Nothing to do with me. A taste of your blood was enough. I wasn't about to waste my time disposing of the rest of you.'

He ashes his cigar, and smirks again.

'Not in the habit of eating the garbage, you see.'

"So you didn't like the taste of my blood, did you?" Urquhart grins. "Too much good whiskey in it?"

He waves a hand in the direction of the bottle on the table.

'I'm a tequila man. Whiskey is just too...'

He look Urquhart up and down with undisguised contempt.

'...mundane.'

"You drink whiskey for the taste," Urquhart lectures him. "Tequila is just a way to smash your mind against a wall at the highest possible speed. Goes from sober straight to completely pissed, bypassing all enjoyment."

Ramon looks about as impressed as he always does when someone tries to lecture him.

'Maybe for people who can't handle their drink. Like you, obviously. Whereas I, clearly, am better at it.'

He's been drinking the stuff for decades. His tolerance level is well built up.

"No, it's for people who know how to enjoy the good things in life," Urquhart says. "No wonder you're acting like a belligerent little bull out in the glaring sun if you don't know how to savour pleasures. Man, you wouldn't want your sex to be all orgasms and no build-up, either? It's zero fun."

Beat.

"If I could pity people, which I can't, I'd really pity you."

Edited 2012-01-01 15:18 (UTC)

Ramon looks rather taken aback.

'You assume I don't know how to enjoy the good things?'

Because really, that's just laughable.

'I might enjoy them in a different way to you. If you think everyone wants to do everything the way you do, then it's you that needs pity.'

Which he won't receive from Ramon Salazar, obviously.

"You don't have the patience to give things the time they need so you can savour them," Urquhart says. "Hence, no whiskey for you, only this new world paint thinner."

You know,' he says, with an air of someone quietly amused, 'you never fail to disappoint when it comes to proving what an asshole you are.'

He stretches his arms out along the back of his booth seat.

'I often drink whiskey. Scotch, too. I just happen to prefer tequila, which, given where I'm from, can't really be too much of a surprise. But as usual, you have to turn a simple matter of preference into a wildly inaccurate character study.'

He pauses to take a drag on his cigar, and adds, mildly.

'Anyone would think you were trying to start a fight.'

"Oh, would they?" Urquhart says. "And what if they were right?"

'I'd think you've missed me.'

And, for once, there's no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Well, OK. Maybe a little bit if you look.

'Have you intimidated everyone else away from playing with you?'

"I haven't had a good all-out fight in a while," Urquhart says, shrugging.

'And you're not going to get one tonight, either.'

Not a chance is he going to come back in here after a long time away, and immediately find himself in a scrap - or worse, the cells.

'At least, not with me.'

Urquhart gives the tequila a dubious look. Enough of that should do the trick...

William's also eating a steak dinner not far from Ramon and looks up at the way Ramon speaks to Bar,

"Were you hopin' to, sir?"

He shrugs, all ease and no care.

'Don't give a fuck,' he says, bluntly, and blows a stream of cigar smoke into the air.

'Who're you? I haven't seen you before.'

He doesn't know how long he's been gone, though it's been a fair while on his side of the door too.

William tenses and takes a drink of his coffee before answering as this man makes him think of Charlie Prince,

"William Evans, Bisbee, Arizona Territory," Then lists a year near the end of the 1860s.

Ramon wanders over to him. Everything about him looks casual, but there's nothing aimless in the way he moves. He knows more than most that you've always got to be on your guard here - and that's just the way he likes to live life, anyway. Things have been too quiet for him for too long.

'When did you start coming?'

He sits himself down. The rats bring him a bottle right away.

'Ramon Salazar.'

"Year or more ago, Mister Salazar. If you know Ben Wade he's from my world and Dan Evans' my Pa,"

Ramon seems like the sort of person who'd know and like Ben Wade.

He gives no indication whether the names are familar. For one thing, you never show your hand right after meeting someone. For another, he's trying to remember. And for yet another - a year?

He looks around.

'It's Christmas here? What year?'

"I don't know, sir, most folks mention 2011, but depends who you're talkin' to."

He looks at him like he might be a bit dim, but is stopped from replying by the rats bringing his dinner. As soon as they've gone though, he frowns and says,

'Bar time still stays consistent, doesn't it? If they're saying 2011, then that's what it'll be here.'

Shit.

'Mike still running the place?'

Everything about his demeanour suggests that he expects William to know the answer to this, and he'd better pony up the right responses pretty damn quick.

William shrugs as he's never investigated time here that much,

"Yes, sir, with Mrs. Reynolds as his Co-Barman."

For all that he looks modern, Ramon feels familiar to William as men who expect and take what they want tend to prosper in the West.

He'd do well in the West. He'd do well anywhere. Ruthless men are like that.

'Mrs Reynolds?'

The name rings a bell, but he's pretty sure he's never met her.

'You sound like you know her. When did she get the job?'

Last time he saw Mike...yeah, he was pregnant. Something he'd managed to successfully wipe from his brain, until this conversation.

"I don't know, sir, had it since I been here. She's got a ranch on a planet called Shadow, fine woman,"

He likes her and respects her.

'Shadow?'

He pulls a face, and eyes the boy in front of him before attacking his steak.

'What's your story, then? Cowboy kid who thinks people should know his father. What, is he famous?'

"No, sir, Ben Wade is but my Pa got him on a train to Yuma prison and died for his trouble. Lot of folks here know Wade, he's good at makin' folks like him,"

It's a story known in his world and most folks know Wade here.

'Oh, a crowd-pleaser.'

He snorts, and considers that there's no need to make seeing Wade a priority. Though it should probably happen if he starts coming back in regularly again.

'Yeah, well, lots of people here know me as well. Or they used to.'

"Of a sort, he knows he can get away with more if folks like him,"

Which William's seen happen and wish he hadn't.

Ramon quirks an eyebrow.

'Why?'

He literally doesn't understand what the boy just said. Surely exactly the opposite is true?

"Cause they will, but he's also got a reputation as a killer so it ain't really one or the other. Place he hid in Bisbee was cause he got on the good side of the owner,"

And he seemed to respect William's Pa, so some of his talk of honor probably wasn't all to seem nice. Ben Wade's a confusing man.

Yeah, no. Not impressed.

'One of those assholes who think smiling, and saying the right things is going to get him everything.'

He shakes his head.

'It's much quicker to just threaten to kill them.'

"He doesn't threaten, he just kills. That's also why he's got a reputation,"

He's left a trail of bodies behind him.

The 'not impressed' expression turns, unmistakably, to the opposite.

'Is that so?'

It's not that often he hears of people like him, here. At home, sure. In this place, everyone has the unfortunate tendency to look down their nose at killing people.

'I'll be sure and remember that when I see him.'

"I've seen him shoot down three men without much of a thought. He's hard to miss once you've met him,"

William won't as meeting Wade changed everything for his family.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only