(no subject)

[scurlock]

The thing that you have to remember about doorways is that you have to appreciate the empty space inside the frame just as much as you appreciate the frame itself. Without the empty space, the doorway would not be a doorway, but a wall instead.

With a quiet click, the Front Door opens.

A patron near the doorway might catch a glimpse of the world outside before the man steps through it; trees in the distance, a horse tied to the rail of the front porch, a light rain falling. The man's clothes are damp, his boots caked in a layer of red mud that he'll track through the bar on the way to the counter.

The rats can complain all they want; the man doesn't care.



A bourbon appears on the polished surface in front of him before he even says a word.

Doc smiles.

Quietly: "I've missed you too, darlin'."



[OOC: Open indefinitely. Hey, y'all. :) ]

Comments

[childofrebellion]

(OOC: Yay you! Who would you like? This guy's loudest but can provide others.)

[scurlock]

[ooc: Whoever you'd like! I'm open for new pups if they're loud, Doc doesn't mind.]

[childofrebellion]

(OOC: He's loud but there will be others. Also let me know if you or Crys need help getting Discord sorted. *hugs*)

Cassian's at the counter in his black leather jacket with a blaster hidden below sipping a caf and watching Milliways.

When the door opens, he notes the rain and the animal that he can't identify, the man's comfort is hard to miss. He shifts to face him, this the second man he's seen treat Bar with tenderness born of a long time away, "Been gone a while?"

[scurlock]

Doc shakes off the leather duster he's wearing - it reveals the holster and sidearm at his hip in doing so - before peeling out of it.

"Not sure about in here," he replies. "Time tends t'do funny things when I've been away a spell. Out there," he nods back towards the door "it's been some time."

[childofrebellion]

The guns remind him of what the other man had, perhaps they're from the same place on Earth, "That must be confusing."

[scurlock]

"Bar is confusing at the best of times," he says, with a hint of fondness in his voice. "At her worst, well...you might consider her a trickster."

He'll hear about that comment later, he's certain. He folds the duster over one arm and continues towards the counter, his body language making it clear that Cassian is welcome to join him if he so chooses.

[childofrebellion]

He follows, he could manage one more caf and trickster isn't a word that he hears often,

"A trickster, how do you mean?"

[fry_sandhu]

A young boy of eight standing at the bar looks at the footprints, and then at the man.

The man looks familiar, somehow. But it's been a while.

"I think I know you." he blurts out.

[scurlock]

As he shrugs out of his duster, Doc looks over at the boy speaking to him. He studies the features on his face - the eyes, the nose - and the hair. He has an idea, but...if it's true, Bar's been playing tricks with the time again.

He drapes his coat over the nearest barstool.

"Alexander?"

[fry_sandhu]

"Yes, but I like to be called Fry." Fry says.

So it must be a long time ago when he saw this guy. And then suddenly he grins, and makes a rare moment of proper eye contact.

"Doc? "

[scurlock]

"Yeah." Doc smiles warmly. "Hey, it sure has been a long time, I think Bar has done a strange thing with the door for me."

The youngster is much older than he remembers, but the mannerisms are familar.

"And I apologize -- I'd forgotten you like to be called Fry. How are you?"

[fry_sandhu]

"I am in good physical health." Fry says, having learned that the answer to this question is not 'how am I doing what?'.

"How are you? Have you found Dad yet?"

[visible_sariel]

Somewhere a short - but not too short - distance down the bar, a red-shirted patron's head turns. Beat.

Is that--wait--it is!

"Scurlock!" That's pleased surprise, and the plain variety besides, and a little bemusement. Nobody said there wasn't a thread of amazement in there too; how long has it been, really?

Sariel's smiling too, soft and real.

((OOC: Eeeeee wei wei!))

[scurlock]

His head snaps up when he hears his name called a few barstools over, and his glance immediately hones in on the voice.

"Well damn, finally someone I recognize in this place."

Josiah grins and ducks around another patron to move towards Sariel. He's still carrying his drink, but don't worry - she's still getting a hug.

"Howdy, darlin'."


[ooc: Eee! <3 <3 Sorry for not seeing sooner, I had a thread expanded!]

[visible_sariel]

If Sariel's a little surprised, well. Call it only a little. Yes, he's getting a hug in reply, drink or no drink. "I feel the same; my door has been so unreliable, I was beginning to wonder if everyone was unfamiliar--bonjour!"

That smile's not going away.

((OOC: No problem! RL snatched me away as it was.))

[scurlock]

"I've been busy, but the same - I was wondering if maybe I'd done somethin' to offend Bar the last time I was here and that was why she was keeping me away."

Sariel is one of his oldest, truest friends here in the Bar, so the hug is honest and genuine.

"It's so good to see you."

[diehard_daniel]

Daniel is sitting in such a way to as to not the horse, the mud, and the man. That's interesting.

"Huh."


"Been a long time?"

[scurlock]

"Not sure yet."

Doc reaches for the glass of bourbon Bar provides, and a stack of bundled envelopes appears with it. He quirks an eyebrow at the size.

"Apparently longer than I thought, judging by the mailbag."

[diehard_daniel]

"Huh," says Daniel, "So, you're from when, exactally?"

He looks at the bottom of his coffee cup, the laptop and Ancient data pad forgotten on the bar top.

[scurlock]

"1889"

The technology the other man possesses clearly identifies him as one of the more "modern" comers to Milliways - at least in Doc's perspective.

Doc swirls his drink and flips open the first envelope.

"Good to know she's been keeping my tab up to date."

[diehard_daniel]

Bar is pretty cool that way, "That's about 120 years before me. Anything good?"

The Bar refills Daniel's coffee.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Been a while?"

The man at the end of the bar is simply dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded sweatshirt. For some reason, he's wearing a black leather glove on his left hand, but not his right.

[scurlock]

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how long it's been - in here, anyways."

Doc catalogs the things the man is wearing - basic "modern" clothing - and notes the glove, though he doesn't pay it much mind. He himself wore a single glove for years after getting shot through the hand, mainly for protection of the healing scar, partially to keep anyone from commenting.

"Out there, yes it has been a while."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Time can be strange," he says, with an odd quirk to the corner of his mouth.

"Welcome back, then, I guess."

[scurlock]

"Much obliged."

He tips his head politely (he's not wearing a hat, but the motion is still there) as he takes a seat on a nearby stool.

"I find time in Milliways tends to be stranger than most other places I've encountered, my own world considered."