milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Wade is currently taking up prime sofa space in front of the fire. It's blowing a gale outside, and he's got nowhere to be. So he's sprawled lengthways, a large whiskey on the table, and a sketchbook and pencil in his hand. There's any number of things here to catch his eye, and he has to make some use of his time. He'd asked Bar to provide his gun - he doesn't feel right without it - but she wouldn't give it up.

It's probably for the best. He's got no objection to spending an easy evening, anyway.

[OOC: It's blowing a mad gale here, so if I disappear suddenly, the power's probably gone out.]

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William is looking for a place to sit as he's carefully holding a cup of hot chocolate and some biscuits and stops when he spots Wade.

Though he doesn't have his gun which is odd and he considers moving someplace else but he wants to be near the fire. His face is still a mess of bruises and he's holding himself gingerly.

He glances up at the movement above his sketchbook. His mouth, which already held a small smile, stretches into a grin.

'William.'

Oh, good.

He hates that grin and moves to sit down in a chair that's closest to the fire and farthest from Wade,

"Wade."

He flips a page idly, and starts a new picture.

'You get home alright?'

"From where?"

Last he knew Wade was the one traveling with some plan of his, but then its been a while since he's been in Milliways.

His eyebrows knock upwards.

'The train.'

For him, it hasn't been long since he last saw this kid. And it wasn't an easy last meeting.

William's grown up some since then, more muscle on him, still skinny but filled out some,

"That was four years ago. You feelin' alright, Wade?"

'Oh, just fine.'

He raises his head a little from the cushions of the sofa, and nudges his hat back some. It's not obvious how much shorter his hair is, but if someone looks closely, it may show at the temples.

'Four years ago, huh? Surprised you still remember my name.'

There's bait in there that William doesn't want to take and he starts taking apart a biscuit.

This is odd, he's been talking to Wade here but now he's acting like all that happened before didn't, "With the way you keep it in the news, ain't likely to forget it."

He chuckles quietly, with genuine amusement.

'It ain't me that writes the newspapers, son.'

Bait? Him?

'You still got your daddy's ranch?'

"Yeah, still got it and turnin' some profit,"

Enough that Mark is going to get to school, which is more to do with Milliways than what happened in Contention.

'Glad to hear it. You deserve it.'

And he means it too, because hell if he had to go through all that with Dan for his kid to chuck it all down the pan.

'How's your momma?'

...the slight leer there is entirely for the sake of amusement.

"Fine," He hates that leer but he's going to be polite.

A laugh proper now, though it remains quiet. He shades in one of William's shoulders, and moves on to the creases at his elbow.

'That she is. That she is.'

The biscuit is now fully crumbled and William thinks about tossing it at Wade, but he can't get into another fight. He'd lose against Wade.

'What happened to your face?'

He asks it as though incidental, though it's the reason he started drawing him in the first place.

'Don't think your daddy would have liked you gettin' in fights.'

"That flu's goin' around that makes you think you're someone else. I thought I was someone with a worse temper than me and got into a bad fight,"

He has been trying to avoid fights at home and is doing a little better at it.

...interesting. He thinks of the woman who was really strong on this point, and the way his arm aches like hell. His pencil stills.

'Yeah, I heard about that. You know you had it? At the time?'

"No, not until later. I've had it before, it messes with you pretty bad,"

Each time he's had it, things end up strange and with weird complications.

He starts drawing again. He's usually pretty good at not showing when he's unbalanced.

'Must be a damn strong sickness to do that to a man.'

Another thought occurs.

'Your little brother come here?'

"No, he's never been able to get through the door,"

That would be nice but weird.

''spect that's a relief, given his condition.'

He yawns briefly, and finishes his whiskey. A rat runs up on request, and he orders another. It's giving him a pleasant drowse, and dulling the ache in his arm.

'You want a drink?'

He starts to say something then stops before shrugging, he got Mark healed and he thought Wade knew that.

His father did and would have told Wade, "Yeah, thanks."

Normally he wouldn't drink with Wade but this all feels odd.

He holds two fingers up to the rat, and it runs away. He would explain what he meant, but why should he bother? He doesn't give a damn.

He goes back to his drawing instead, humming softly under his breath. Gonna hang me in the mornin'...

'You seem on edge, kid. After four years, I would've thought you'd have got over that. Or be ready to kill me.'

Try, anyway.

Its a gesture he knows, he's spent enough time in Bisbee and here to have picked it up, since its not that hard,

"Tried that the first time I saw you in here. Surprised you don't remember as I leveled a rifle at you."

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