Hyde's No Holds Bar

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde sits at a back booth, wearing a black AC/DC shirt with long johns underneath and jeans, slowly smoking a cigarette, drinking a root beer (Satan's Second Choice) and flipping through a current-to-him copy of Cream magazine. Charlie's death is a bummer (hey, the guy was the first here to buy Hyde a Guinness) and the fact that he's dead, and Hyde missed his funeral, kind of pisses him off. He doesn't get sad over shit like this.

So...whatever.

Comments

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

Chiana wanders over in his direction with a beer in one hand...second or third one of the night.

She slides into the booth beside him and peers at whatever it was he was looking at.

" What's that? "

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde turns a page. "Music magazine. You can tell by the Zildjian ads. See?" He points to one.

Then his hand wanders over to try and bogart her beer.

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

She looks at it...serious for once.

" Those round things make music? " She points at the cymbal picture which means she set down the beer as she is leaning on the other hand.

" Odd sort of music. "

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, you hit 'em with sticks and they make loud, satisfying rhythmic sounds."

Hyde grabs the beer with one hand and puts his other arm around her shoulder. Two for the price of one.

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

" Huh, kinda like drit then, I suppose. "

She leans into his shoulder. Mmm, warm.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde takes a nice long gulp of Chi-Chi's beer, rubbing her shoulder.

"What's drit?" He manages to still hold the beer and turn the page. Now that's talent.

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

" It's hard to explain...with this language..."

That would be why she used the Nebari term for it.

She rubs her chin on Hyde's shoulder and then snitches her beer back.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

"Gotcha."

Hyde takes a long drag and glances at her from out of the corner of his eye.

"So where the hell you been lately, man? Haven't seen you around."

[girl-of-gray.livejournal.com]

" Around...not doing much, reveling in the fact that here no one wants me dead. "

In other words...she's being a lazy cat and sleeping as much as possible.

[not_that_spike]

"Hyde." Spike nods to him as he walks past.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde looks up, mid-drag, and nods back.

"Spike, man."

[not_that_spike]

He peers over at the magazine. "Reading?"

That's overstating the obvious.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde nods. "Yeah."

He looks sort of bored, though. "How 'bout you?"

[not_that_spike]

"Just hanging out."

He sits opposite Hyde in the far back booth. "Not much else to do. I don't give a shit about the funeral; didn't know the guy. Thought I'd get a cup of coffee anyhow."

Spike looks over at the magazine then up at Hyde: the AC/DC shirt, the root beer, the sunglasses, and tries to remember what it was like to be seventeen and pretty much carefree. Problem is, he never had a chance to just chill out and smoke dope and read music magazines.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde's an odd sort of carefree, though, isn't he? It's not all as easy as he makes it look. Maybe being seventeen never is, no matter where you come from.

He flips through the last few pages of the magazine and closes it. "Yeah. I only talked to him once, but...the guy bought me a Guinness. And played me 'Lola' on the guitar."

He shrugs. Doesn't want to admit that maybe it bums him out a bit, and he hates being bummed out.

[not_that_spike]

Spike rests his head in one hand; with the other, he grasps his coffee cup. "Death just sucks." He knows: he's caused enough of it.

He yawns, tired. "Hyde, want a Guinness? You can drink it in his memory if it makes you feel better."

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

Hyde looks down at his hands for a moment, his lips scrunched up. Then he raises his head and nods, smiling a bit.

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

[shadythief.livejournal.com]

Shadow's there, perched on the edge of the seat opposite him, mugs in hand.

"Busy?" she asks, tilting her head slightly to read the title of the magazine.

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

"Nah."

Hyde's feet are up on the other side of the booth. Forgot to mention that.

He raises his head to her, flipping idly through the magazine. "Shady."

[shadythief.livejournal.com]

She slides the beer across to him.

"Hyde."

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

He drinks, quickly, sighing.

"What's up, man?"

[shadythief.livejournal.com]

She shrugs. "Keeping the idiots in line at home. What's happened here? It seems a little subdued."

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

"Guy named Charlie Pace died," Hyde says. "It's that simple. Death has a funny tendency to bum people out."

[shadythief.livejournal.com]

She takes a long sip of her ale and wipes the foam away with a fingertip.

"Death is sobering, to be sure."

[andmisterhyde.livejournal.com]

"Yeah." Hyde takes another drink himself, and half of it's gone already.

"Fuck it. I don't wanna think about it."