milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

I think Hyde's here because he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.

He's at the bar, in his favorite Led Zep shirt, looking kinda on the passed out side, with his cheek smushed up against the wood.

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Hyde gives her a....look. 'Cause, yeah. MegLogic.

"Thanks, Meg," he deadpans. Though he is smiling, just a little.

*Would it be carrying it too far to offer him one?

Yeah, probably. But Meg does it anyways.*

I could get you one . . .

Now Hyde looks even more embarassed, in a little kid sorta way.

"Nah...'salright. I got jackets up in my room..."

He shrugs, looking down at the cigarette in his hand.

*Well, Meg meant, get him a tutu. But a jacket works too. She cocks her head.*

So why don't you sleep there, instead of in the bar?

Hyde decides hiding behind his snark is the best way to deal with...well, anything really.

"Forgot how to climb stairs?"

How tragic. *Contrary to popular belief, Meg is capable of snark!*

They say practice makes perfect, you know.

"Yeah, but laziness destroys effort."

Hyde snorts smoke out his nostrils. Like a devil bull!

*Devil bulls do not intimidate the girl who's pals with Lucifer.*

Point, but it also gives you frostbite.

Hyde shrugs again.

"I'll be alright, Meg. If I had some whiskey I'd be warmer, but the bar's a prude."

*Meg blinks.* She won't give you alcohol? Why not?

*Meg knows nothing of age limits.*

"Nah, she won't because Bernard's a jackass."

Hyde smiles at the bar as if knowing it'll hear him or something.

*Meg blinks at him.*

Bar gives me alcohol just fine . . . Bar? Absinthe, please?

*Lo, it appears!*

Hyde eyes the absinthe.

"I'll take that Green Fairy off your hands if you have no use for her..."

Long as you promise not to drink it all at once, *Meg says sternly.* I don't want to come down and find you dead of alcohol poisoning.

"I can't die of alcohol poisoning - I already had a tolerance in the womb."

Hyde grins and reaches for the little glass. Or is it a bottle? Whichever it is.

Well, then, *Meg points out,* since who knows when the next time someone will be around to get you some is, you ought to save all that for a rainy day. As for me, I ought to go upstairs. Night, Hyde.

*She turns to go, leaving the absinthe and turtle blankie behind.*

"Night, Meg," he mutters after her.

And is surprised at how long the embarassment stays after her departure.

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