milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: drunk

(no subject)

Vago's still sitting at the bar. Same spot he was sitting in last night. Same level of drunkenness. Same dejected look. He's kept it up all night it seems.

He's also continued to sing to himself off and on. He's gone through Health to the Company a couple of times, and has most recently been mumbling verses to Roll Your Leg Over.

Oh no, there he goes again,

'If all the young lassies were milk in a cup.
I'd be a kitten and lick them all up." He slurs slightly.

Someone put him out of his misery, they can only get worse from here.

(ooc summary: Wherein Vago and Morgan discuss marriage, Death, and Dancing. Guess who's been married)

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He closes his eyes for a moment as if remembering, and with head still bowed, says,

"I don't tend to talk about it very much, but it was 3 years ago today that I met Lucia."

"Your wife Lucia. What happened?"

"How do you know that? How drunk was I last night?"
He shakes his head again still confused.

"It was two years ago today that we were married. She wanted to have the wedding on the anniversary of the day we met. She was a fellow member of Los Vagos." He says in explanation.
"We had become pretty good partners over the year, and quite some more."

He pauses again, obviously having some trouble continuing.

"The kicker," he finally says, "was that she died exactly one year later. One year ago today."

There is another pause, this one a good deal longer.

"We were working at the time, to protect the King. We had gotten wind of an planned assassination attempt. I saw a suspicious looking man and went after him. There were two of them however. . .

She took the bullet, as was our responsibility. I was not there to stop it. I caught the fellow, but made it back only in time to watch her die."

One last pause,

"I had planned to celebrate out anniversary that night. Instead I mourned."

There were no tears in his eyes, just a great sadness.

Quietly, "So, you drink and remember. Some men forget. It is better that you remember."

"I do not want to forget her. Ever."

The earns him a smile, and then a little frown.

"So, why do you drink?"

He smirks at himself, knowing she has a point.

"I tell myself it is so that I will not hurt, but I am in a bar. I am far away from friends. What else should I do?"

Promptly, "Dancing never hurt anyone."

"Dancing is too close to fighting." he says decisively.

She frowns.

"Don't be silly."

"Heh, silly is one thing I am not today.

My style of fighting is very similar to dancing. Though fighting is not something I wish to discuss today."

He looks to the fire and stares into it. Watching the dancing of the flames.

"Then you need to relax more when you do dance. It's not like fighting at all. You just...move."

He nods. "There was a time when I could do that. Until a year ago."

He shrugs, "but enough depressing topics"

He orders another drink.

"Dancing is not depressing," Morgan insists, getting to her feet with all the grace of a faerie. She moves forward so that she can watch the flames.

Slowly, she starts to sway, somehow keeping time with a beat with the flames.

Softly, "See?"

He watches her for a moment.

"You will not be able to convince me otherwise today, I fear. Besides, in this state, should I try to dance I would likely end up on the ground."
He grins.

At least she was able to get a smile out of him.

She spins around to face him, her silky hair flaring out.

She smiles back, impishly.

"Another day."

"perhaps. Thank you."

He smiles again, and finishes off his mead.

He does not order another.

Morgan curtseys, seeing that her work here is finished. For tonight. The dancing needs to be corrected as soon as possible.

He tips his hat and nods in return.

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