milliways_bar | (no subject)

Hmmm, another book-reader by the fire. Ace looks up from her own book and tilts her head, trying to read the title of Roland's book.

The Lord of the Rings is a really big book, no matter the edition -- and Roland's got the one-volume hardcover. It's in his lap. Alas.

Ace winces sympathetically. That's gotta hurt. She prefers her slim little volume of sea battles and daring-do, really. As much as someone like her can enjoy books, anyway.

Ah, but the thicker and more imposing the book, the better you can hit someone over the head with it.

Besides, for someone like Roland, big books are an incredible luxury -- paper being worth its weight in gold, in his world.

Ace will most certainly agree with the blunt object prospect, though if it comes down to that, she'd prefer to use the nitro clipped to her belt. Much more effective, and more dramatic results. You could be scraping bad-guy guts off the ceiling for days.

Well, if you want to look at it that way, Roland would much prefer to use the gun at his side -- but sometimes you don't really have any other options.

Also, if you use guns instead of nitro, you don't have to scrape anybody's guts off of the ceiling. Mop up pools of blood, maybe, but you don't have to chase after bits of anybody's small intestine.

But it's decorative! In a morbid, bloody, nightmare-funhouse sort of way.

Ace spots the huge gun, and slowly grins. She adds another notch to her 'gunslingers' tally. There seems to be an awful lot of them around this bar. Not that she's complaining. One keeps her in chocolate alcoholic drinks, another is a bad-ass woman, and two more put up with her explosive tendencies. Gotta love it.

Roland turns the page.

Sip of coffee.

Even his actions have that laconic touch about them.

Ace runs down the list Eddie had given her that one time. She already met Susannah, and Cuthbert... Alain hadn't been on the list, but he's new, so that doesn't count... so she's left with Jake or Roland. Can't be Jake, because that doesn't line up too well... hmmm, gotta love the process of elimination. Even when it's done sans explosions.

Or, you know. Sans guns. Though one of the parts of the gunslinger litany is I shoot with my mind. So.

Damn, that must be tricky. How does one wrap grey matter around a trigger? Wouldn't that result in the mother of all headaches?

I think the deal is supposed to be that your gun is an extension of your body, and the movements of your body are controlled by your mind.

But this has put bad thoughts of tentacled brains in my head, so I am going to go over here and build a blanket fort la.

In the meantime, Roland is still reading.

Oh, Ace wouldn't mind that, she's dealt with tentacle-minded critters before. Permanently.
Ace supposes she should get back to reading as well, but wonders if she should say hello to the fellow reader. To be polite, and all. In no way because then she can add another notch to her 'gunslingers met' tally.

Unfortunately, I do not have access to nitro, whereas I do have access to blanket fort.

Roland's actually in a pretty good mood tonight. If she says hi, he'd answer. But in the meantime, he's currently WTF-ing at the weird fort behind the waterfall in Ithilien.

Hey, that's a very nice fort. Very well hidden... if slightly dampish.

Ace figures it's worth a shot. Death doesn't like to work here, after all.
"Hi. M'Ace. You're another one of the gunslingers, yeah?" Okay, so she already knows that, but it's an opening. Normally Ace doesn't have to do much to get a conversation going, since the other person usually wants to know who she is, what she's doing, and why her companion has just turned the world on its head.

Roland looks up from his book. "Yar. Roland." Pause. "You explode things. Is it not so?"

"That is very much so." Ace agrees with a manic sort of grin. She'll never turn away a conversation revolving around explosives.

Roland doesn't like it when it's necessary to explode things because there are monsters from the todash darkness in the bar. He does, however, like people who get rid of very large todash monsters with explosives. "It was well done, the other night."

"You better bloody well believe it. That was absolutely wicked!" Ace and modesty? Haven't met yet.

"Reckon you don't have much opportunity to use that stuff, here."

"Not much, no, more's the pity." She does look rather downcast at that. "Though Tim's... he's on security... has promised to rig sommat up for me so I can practice a bit."

Roland nods. "It is well."

Ace looks slightly confused.
"Which is? That I don't use it often, or that I'll get to practice?"

"Practice." A pause. "Good to practice, with a weapon. Especially a volatile one."

Ace nods, the wicked grin back.
"It's very calming. Very... what's the word... oh. Theraputic." And that's what she'll tell anyone who asks. Never mind that it's just good to see a big bang.