milliways_bar | (no subject)

The Kid sees Joe at the bar sitting alone and listening to the service without seeming to. Kid understands, because he's also seen too many such affairs, though hardly as formal. He's thirsty for something strong as well as some clarity; so he goes up and sits beside the haggard man, quietly orders a double shot of bourbon, and asks, without turning,

"So, is all this for that guy yesterday?"

"'Sfor Charlie Pace. He was a musician," Joe says simply. He takes a sip of his whiskey. "What happened yesterday?"

"I... was here, at least, I saw a bunch of people huddled around him in the corner; but I don't know any of them." With a humph, "And I was too busy getting drunk with a duck to care much."

Joe snorts at the duck comment. "Milliways is a fucked up place, sometimes."

Kid's lip curls in a half grin and he looks around at the nearest mourners, hoping they didn't notice the epithet.

"Yeah, it's not just the weird people that show up, either. This place gets inside you." He lowers his eyes, he'd wanted to talk; now, however, he's feeling reluctant.

Joe nods slowly; he thinks he understands, but isn't sure. "Yeah, I'd say so. How do you mean?"

"well," unsure how to start,"I know how this is going to sound, but." Then a long pause. "That time we talked, I think two days ago? And that girl Meg said something about a rule against violence?" He pauses again, expecting some urging; but none comes, so he continues, haltingly.

"Was... was I wearing something? Like a weapon?"

Joe shakes his head. "You said you didn't carry guns."

that means no

The Kid searches and searches through the last three(?) days but it isn't there!

how did it get here?

Defeated by his lack of understanding, he concedes the moment.

"I don't, but I used to carry an orchid." Flat. In Bellona, the word had never stood for something alive. He not sure anymore.

"A flower?" Joe takes the idea of dangerous flowers seriously, as anyone who's met Anthy should.

He shakes his head, as if that should be enough of an explanation; but he doubts they needed knives in the old west and, with all the magic and... other things going on around here, he knows it isn't. He looks across the bar again, and into the past.

"I spent some time in Bellona, where things were pretty mixed up, so some of us carried these blades for protection. Like a flower wrapped around your fist, with seven blades, edged on the outside. When I left, I gave mine to a girl who was going in."

"Last night, my orchid... came back to me."

Joe waits. "Weird," he says finally.

The Kid scans the back of the crowd once more, making sure no one from last night is close enough to hear, then he gives the story as best he can.

"You see, those orchids, they gave you a sense of power. We rarely used them to hurt people,"

~~into her shoulder and rip(ped) it out~~

"but sometimes, it was like they wanted you to."

"Hm." This isn't the kind of thing Joe has experience with. "Maybe you should get rid of it, then."

Doesn't he understand?

"I did." A little loud. A younger man near the back of the crowd glares then turns away. "But last night... there was a fight outside, at least I think there was," struggling. "I was going out to... you know," indicating his groin, "and by the lake there was this group of people. Some of them were fighting, and I got that feeling again, like before." A whole minute passes.

"And there it was, right on my wrist, ready to go."

"Can't you get rid of it again, the same way?" Joe notes the Kid's rising agitation without any visible reaction; he seems to keep the same impassive face he's had all along.

"I don't know, maybe. But what if it happens again?" Lower, "What if it happens in here?"

~~iwillnotbesick~~

"Would you take it?"

"The orchid?" Joe does not want anything to do with killer flowers ever again. "There are a lot of powerful figures in here, Kid. I'm sure somebody can help."

not anyone he can trust

Except, maybe, the god. Kid could give it to Asar-Suti. He should have thought of it right away. He lets out a sigh and almost laughs at his own stupidity. Hell, that guy could turn it into a real ~~petalsburningthornsdippedinpoisonrippedoutbytheroots~~ flower! Then Kid shows Joe a relieved smile.

"It's okay, don't worry about it, I know what to do."

Joe nods slowly. "All right. Good, then." Talking to the Kid seems to be just a matter of hanging on at the curves.

He does feel relieved. Better than he has since paying off his bar tab (avoiding looking at the tally which now shows an amount greater than he's had in years). The droning of the present speaker and looks from two more of the mourners brings him back down, though. Still well enough to be generous, he tells Joe,

"Thanks for listening. But, um... don't tell anybody."

Beyond those near enough to have already heard, that is.

Joe just nods. He's good at keeping his mouth shut.

The Kid eyes him. Maybe he does understand. He resolves to stay on this man's good side; he might need someone like him around, knowing this place. His mood following its natural course, he thinks of the last time he sat like this, and the duck who'd sat with him. His smile echoes that thought.

"Hey, man you want another drink? Don't say no, the last guy who did really pissed me off." He hopes Joe sees the humor through the words.

Joe glances at his glance and thinks. "A little more won't hurt me," he says agreeably.

"well, alright."

Turning again to the bar, he makes the mistake of looking at the tally board, and hesitates, not understanding why the amount of his tab had jumped so high.

~~leavingafootlongclawmarkonthedoor~~

He has to do this, though, for the connection, and for his own self confidence.

"Bar, give us two more of the same, and put it on my tab." Is it a thousand years he waits, or just an instant, before...

Two shot glasses appear, his again the larger. wonderful, he thinks, and picks it up.

"To Charlie, then." Joe lifts the glass.

Knowing to whom he refers only by this conversation and yesterday's sight of his corpse and the men and women weeping over it, he can still offer this small token.

"To Charlie." He only takes half the shot, though, as he's losing the need to get drunk.

"You settling in, then? Besides the reappearing evil flowers?"

"Heh, yeah," with a wry smile. "I've got the room and these new clothes, but I still haven't met many people. And there are a lot to meet." He remembers the black woman without legs, and adds, "You know that Susannah, right?"

"I met her once," Joe allows. "She's a good friend of a friend of mine, part of his posse."

"Yeah, I remember you said they were gunslingers." Thinking of how everyone else he'd met had come in alone, like himself, he asks, "Why are they here together? I mean, I thought people just come in randomly."

Joe shakes his head. "Hard to say. They came one at a time, and each of 'em seems to come from a different time in their story together."

"They aren't the only people here from the same world, I believe."

"Different times? That must be hell. But, I guess if you and I can come from the same place, but a hundred years apart, it's not that crazy."

Joe looks regretful for a moment. "It can cause troubles."

Seeing the change and remembering another snippet of their first talk, the Kid asks,

"Didn't you mention a 'betrothed'?"

Joe nods. "Mhm. Mina Murray. She's from England, and my future about thirty years."

"Wow, we earthmen do get around. How did you two meet?" No need to ask where.

Joe shrugs. "Just over breakfast here, one day. I reminded her of the sort of cheap novels they read in England about the West."

Kid has heard of foreigners' fascination with America, most he's met have considered it backwards. The American love for the old west, on the other hand...

"You should see the movies they've made about it." Kid's not one to go to the cinema, but he saw plenty on black and white TV in the `50s. "I'd like to meet her, we could all compare notes on how accurate the stories are."

"I'll introduce you some time."

"I've been told there's a movie about me, in the future," Joe allows. "Some people here seem to come out of stories that exist in other worlds."

Gulping down the other half of his shot, Kid smiles again.

"Yeah, I know that's right," he says, putting down the glass, "I met a superhero from the comics. That beat the fuck out of reading about him."

Joe finishes his shot off, too, and sets the glass down. "And that'll do me for tonight, Kid. Thanks for the drink." He stands. "I'll see you 'round, all right?"

"You got it, man," he offers his hand. I think I'm just going to get a beer and go up to my ~~orchidorchidorchid~~ room. "You've helped me out a lot."

Joe shakes. "Good luck."

"The same." Kid orders a beer, and the bar does its thing. He would like to find out about the tab, but has an itch to go write instead. The service has ended, without him noticing, and there's no one in his way as he goes back upstairs (http://www.livejournal.com/users/plague_journal/5261.html).