(no subject)

[cottoncandypink]

The skinny young man who stumbles inelegantly into the bar is barely old enough to drink. In tight jeans and a shirt with a band logo visible under a cheap supermarket “work shirt,” he’s too busy reading a file he’d just stolen to immediately notice where he is.

Whether his mohawk is supposed to distract from his pink moustache, or the other way around is anyone’s guess. But by the looks of him, half of his monthly income must go into various hair products.

It’s only when Wilford runs into a table that he realises he is not in the newsroom right now. He hadn’t actually thought this daft plan would work until just this moment, and now he has only a few quick seconds to decide what he’s going to do about it. He stands in one place, stolen papers in hand, and looks around the bar looking ever so slightly gobsmacked about the whole ordeal.


[ooc: Wilford is in his very-early 20s here. He appears to be from an earlier point in time, but from his point of view, it’s all linear. Whether or not he chooses to divulge this information will depend on how much he likes you.

All threads timed to before YT's.]

Comments

[feminine_menace]

"Buster! What the fuck, Buster?" someone yells.

A skinny brown-and-white dog who should be very familiar to Wilford charges enthusiastically in his general direction. Followed by a half-grown red poodle who Wilford will not recognize at all. Bringing up the rear is a blonde teenage girl in a blue-and-orange coverall who looks seriously pissed off. Wilford may or may not have seen her around the bar before.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford doesn't even have to pretend to look a bit surprised at all this, because for some reason, he wasn't expecting his dog to try to tackle him. Buster reeks of dog vomit, which makes Wilford gag when Buster tries to lick his face. Wanting nothing to do with that, Wilford plants one hand right in the middle of Buster's face, and shoves him to the ground.

"Get down before I knock the rest of your teeth out."

What idiot went and fed his dog? Can't they read?

[feminine_menace]

That "idiot" is standing right here, judging Wilford's stupid Mohawk haircut and even stupider pink 'stache. And yeah, she heard him.

"Wow. You're even more of a dick than I thought you were gonna be," YT says, crossing her arms.

(She smells a little of dog vomit too. On a related note, she may have to burn her Converse hi-tops.)

[cottoncandypink]

Buster is still wiggling and hopping around for attention, but Wilford finds himself a bit distracted at the moment.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

Buster can wait to get fed again. Five minutes isn't going to kill him, no matter how much he pretends otherwise.

[feminine_menace]

"'Scuse you is right, motherfucker," YT snaps back. "You obviously starve your dog. And sounds like you beat him too. You get off on animal abuse or something?"

Stella, sensing tension, is standing at alert and looking back and forth between YT, Buster, and what seems to be Buster's human. She's not sure what's happening, exactly, but it's not good.

[cottoncandypink]

Why does everybody think Wilford beats up his dog? At least this brat has the balls to come out and say it.

"You got some fucking nerve. Maybe it's supposed to look like that."

She's about to blow his cover before he even gets it established. Wilford can't be having that, so he continues to ignore Buster. Maybe if he doesn't actually admit to owning the dog, this'll all go away.

Buster, of course, has other ideas. Since Wilford won't play with him, he goes off to get his baseball bat and brings it back to Wilford. Play?

[feminine_menace]

"And maybe I'm the Queen of Australia. And what's with calling your dog 'it,' Pinkstache?"

Buster is obviously Pinkstache's dog. He wouldn't get that excited over a stranger.

[cottoncandypink]

Ugh. Traitor.

Wilford bristles at the name, even though it's an obvious bait. Annoyingly, this kind of thing still works on him.

"What are you, the Queen of PETA, too?"

He wrenches the bat out of Buster's mouth and jabs it toward the dog's face a few times. Buster snaps at the bat each time, until Wilford tosses it aside to give him something to chase.

"I suppose you're the moron who can't read as well."

[feminine_menace]

"You obviously don't feed your dog," YT says, "so I made an executive decision. You asshole."

(Actually, YT did not see the tag until she'd already fed Buster, but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.)

[cottoncandypink]

"I'm not the asshole that got dog spew all over the place."

And Wilford will not be the one to clean it up. Nor will he be blamed for it, because there is a very clear instruction on the dog, telling people not to feed the animal.

[feminine_menace]

"Nah, you're just the asshole who hates his own dog." It's pretty obvious.

[cottoncandypink]

"Cool. Anything else?"

He grabs the bat while Buster's still holding onto it and uses it to steer the dog away.

"Come on, bonehead."

Buster tries to steer Wilford back toward Stella, and almost manages it for about two seconds, before Wilford pulls him back in the direction he wants to go, toward the Bar.

[feminine_menace]

Stella whimpers as her New Friend is snatched away. YT makes another executive decision. YT is not letting Pinkstache take his poor unfortunate dog and chain it up behind the barn or whatever the fuck it is he does. She springs to her feet.

There's this trick you can do where you dig your thumb into someone's wrist in just the right place, and it hurts like hell and makes them let go of whatever they're holding on to. YT does this trick on the wrist attached to the hand holding Buster's bat.

[the_cupbearer]

"You may want to move a bit," says a voice from just behind Wilford, coming from a young (apparently) man holding a heavy crate full of full bottles. He's carrying two, stacked in his hands, and a leather book on top of that.

Ganymede isn't being rude, but he'd rather like Wilford to pick a direction.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford quickly jumps out of the way, giving the man with the heavy load plenty of room to move.

"Yeah, sorry."

He's not, but still. It's worth saying anyway.

[the_cupbearer]

"New?" he asks, though it's said as he moves past, turning on his heel and taking a few steps backwards so he can both make it to the bar and look at Wilford.

"Or just lost?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Uh. Yeah."

Wilford looks both new and lost. He's forgotten all about the file he was reading, and has taken to looking around the place with a touch of wide-eyed confusion, just to bring the point home.

[the_cupbearer]

"Come on, then," Ganymede says, tilting his head towards the bar as he deposits the crates. "It's just a bar, have you never been to one?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Yeah. Once or twice."

He decides to follow after Ganymede toward the bar while still taking in his surroundings.

"Did you do this?"

[the_cupbearer]

"The wine, or the change in location?" he asks. "The first, yes--the second, sadly no. Don't worry about it--you'll be put back when you go out the door again, no harm done."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford nods slowly, and looks back toward the door.

"Mad science, or magic?"

He doesn't really care either way, because he already knows. But he is curious about the answer he might get.

[the_cupbearer]

"Either one you like," Ganymede chuckles. "They both explain the same thing. Magic to one man is science to another, and there are many contentious debates to be had on both sides."

Ganymede himself doesn't really care; he's believed both, still does. "Would you like a drink?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Uh."

Wilford almost says yes, until he remembers that going back to the station smelling like booze would probably not go over well. He looks back at the door, like he's suddenly worried about what's happening on the other side.

"I'm supposed to be at work."

[the_cupbearer]

"So am I," Ganymede chuckles. "Nothing will happen while you're here."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford looks back at the door once again.

"Maybe I'll have what you're having."

Whatever that may be.