milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Tonight there is an outlaw sitting outside on the back porch, with two six-packs of beer (the label is too bright and colorful to be something from his time, but he'd asked bar for a recommendation and she'd done well to give him something he'd actually enjoy) resting beside him on the padded bench he's currently occupying. It's a nice night - cool without being outright cold, and the weather looks to be holding the skies clear.

As twilight begins to creep over the far reaches of the horizon, he uncaps the third bottle of the night and leans back, watching the still-unfamiliar stars poke out one at a time overhead. There are some nights he can't handle the noise and crowds of the main barroom, and tonight is one of them.

[Doc is botherable but in a sort of subdued mood tonight. Open until I say otherwise...I'm trying to get back into this slowly.]

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Will is outside with a hawk on his glove, he's been getting a better idea of Horus' training.

When he sees, Doc, he smiles and walks over as Horus stretches her wings, "Good evenin'."

Doc glances up as Will approaches, one eyebrow lifting at the sight of the bird.

"Y'found yerself a new best friend? M'hurt, Will," he teases.

"This is 'orus. Watchin' 'er for a new friend 'ere name o'Jack West. There a spare room in the stables that I could turn into a mews?"

When she hears her name, Horus settles down one Will's hand.

"...I'm sure we could find somethin', but what the hell's a 'mews'?"

"A place where the falcons, 'awks an other birds for 'untin' live. Isna falconry still practiced?"

"I ain't seen anyone do it...the Indians might, but I'd have t'ask Chavez."

And he can't do that, so he has no idea.

"So s'like a birdhouse. Would it irritate the stock, y'think?"

"Nay, shouldna, falcons are quiet birds and she'll be 'ooded most o'the time."

"Would one stall be 'nough space?"

"Aye, more than 'nough."

He nods, then. "We can work on that...would we just need like, wire fence t'keep her in?"

"Nay, na e'en that. See, they'll be tyin' 'er to a perch," He points to the jesses.

He looks at the gear on the falcon and then back at Will.

"So they keep 'em wearin' a hood so they can't see and tied up t'a stick? Don't sound like s'fair t'the creature much."

"Dinna always wear a 'ood, she might na need one, but tis part o'their trainin'. They learn to be quiet when they're 'ome an then when they 'unt, they're let free an if ye've trained 'em right return to ye."

"That's real interestin'," he admits. "I suppose you'd have t'run the risk of them goin' off and not coming back if they found somethin' more interesting, bein' wild creatures."

"Aye, ye teach 'em to think o'ye as 'ome."

He's still in scrubs when he wanders out of doors, but at least they're clean. He considers this a victory.

He's been keeping track of who comes and goes through the backdoor, and when he spots the familiar pair of Starfleet scrubs, he gently lifts the hand holding the bottle in a half-hearted greeting.

"They give y'the night off or somethin'?" he comments in greeting, voice quiet enough to only carry as far as he wants it to - which is to McCoy's hearing range. "I don't ever think I seen y'lookin' this pretty, Doc."

McCoy is nothing if not adaptable, and echos the accent with one of his own as he ambles over.

"Just my natural charm, son. Pure as a pearly-white lily."

This is, of course, equatable to what comes out the rear of a bull.

Josiah barks out a laugh, shifting on the bench to allow McCoy enough room to sit on the other side of him (and the two six-packs). It's not that he was taking all that much space, but he is a guy, and one used to sprawling when given the chance.

"Mmhmm," he 'agrees'. "And I ain't been up t'no trouble since I seen you last."

With his free hand, he plucks a bottle - cold, thanks to some magical chilling cardboard or whatever bar said it was - out of the box and hands it over.

"They got those...twist lids," he adds.

He pops the lid off with a mostly-expert twist - some things never change - and occupying the space offered.

"Tell me at least there's nothin' bleedin'."

"Nothin's bleedin'," he replies somewhat-cheerfully. "And I ain't started smokin' 'gain, neither."

These are both victories in Doc's book.

"'Side from bein' stuck'n Montgomery for the week 'fore last, it ain't been all that bad out there," he adds, nodding towards the door to the bar (and in turn, he means the Front Door and his world outside). "But I finally got m'self to N' Orleans a few hours ago, 'fore I came 'cross the bar, and I'm glad t'be back in someplace civilized."

The empty bottle rejoins its compatriots that have gone before, and Doc grabs and opens no. 4 without hesitation.

"No offense t'this fine establishment, of course."

"Oh, none taken, I'm sure." Bones accepts on behalf of said fine establishment, sipping his own beer at a more sedate pace. "Lord knows it ain't always civilized."

Edited 2012-09-10 03:53 (UTC)

"At least it ain't tried t'tear itself apart or turn all the folk inside into critters yet this week," he points out. "That's somethin' in s'favor, I suppose."

He slows down his beer consumption too, if only because he now has someone to talk to.

"How you been, Bones?" he asks, eyes fixed on the dark sky overhead.

"Doing alright. We picked up some new kids at the last starbase, and we're trying to help them fit in."

Well.

Some of them are.

He found one of Spock's new botanists bawling in an otherwise abandoned rec room. It wasn't heartening.

"I reckon s'a helluva adjustment to go from bein' at home t'trapped in a flyin' metal saucer?"

He wouldn't know, but it was weird enough for him when he went on that trip with Kate Warner to visit New Mexico and they had to take a plane to Albuquerque. The idea that he was flying over the ground was a little unnerving. Flying through space...that's way different.

"The Enterprise has... more exactin' standards than some folk are expectin'." He drawls, which is something of an understatement. "And I swear the new crew gets younger every year. I think there was a teddy bear in the last load of baggage."

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