milliways_bar | (no subject)

Ignoring the squeeing of his mun, Gorlim spots the curious gentleman and decides his taste in wine merits poking.

Thus, the rather twitchy highland fellow comes over to poke the musketeer. Not that he would know what a musketeer is. Or a musket, for that matter.

Athos looks up the twitchy fellow with a slightly baleful look in his eye. He doesn't say anything but gestures to the other side of the booth. This is Athos-speak for 'Hollo! Why don't you join me, good sir?'

Honestly.

He's seen Men of Haleth become engaged to their women with less apparent communication. He gets the drift and sits, eyeing the stranger curiously. Ultimately, what he says is:

"You're from Earth, yes? France, maybe?" If he sounds like anything, it's Scottish. But he's getting good at this guessing game. The gentleman of many bottles reminds him of Montparnasse.

Well, hopefully Athos won't end up engaged to Gorlim by the end of the evening. That would be...wrong.

'You are observant Monsieur.' He pours Gorlim a glass and slides it over to him but says nothing else. And he's met Montparnasse. Hated him.

Yeah, it would be. ALMOST as wrong as a certain AU relationship involving one of Athos's mun's other characters, hmmmmmmmm?

Anyway, it's just as well Athos doesn't like Montparnasse. Gorlim isn't a fan either, except as a victim of relentless teasing on occasion.

He takes the wine with a nod. "Just don't ask me to guess anywhere else in your world except Los Angeles." He smiles. "I'm Gorlim. And you, my lord?"

Hey, that's AU! And totally not the fault of this mun. *denies all responsibility*

Athos doesn't like men with no honour. And since Montparnasse admitted to double murder and intention to rape almost straight away? No, Athos doesn't like him.

He looks at Gorlim calmly. 'I have not heard of this place.' He drinks his wine, watching him over the rim. 'My name is Athos. Just Athos, I am not a lord.'

If Athos doesn't like honorless sops, he might not approve of Gorlim's traitorous habits... but that's neither here nor there. Yet.

"Nor had I before I got here," Gorlim says and shrugs. "Seems to be anyone can get here, from anywhere. Any world, even the ones you think are made up. In some of the worlds people here come from, I'm made up. It's rather funny."

'You are not real then monsiuer?' He looks surprised, and not a little alarmed. 'Zounds! A strange thing indeed.'

And no, 'yet' indeed...

What better moment for Rochefort to show up, then? The man has simply impeccable timing, doesn't he?

He's generally a little leery of approaching anyone who looks like Kiefer Sutherland, after that little run-in with Jack. But he recognizes the real Athos when he sees him, and feels an unpleasant jolt.

"Athos." His voice is flat and dangerous. "I see you've finally found your way here."

Doesn't he though?

Athos looks up with bleary and unfocused eyes, but he recognises the man easily enough. 'Ah. The Cardinal's favourite minion.' He sneers, in a way he wouldn't dream of doing were he sober. 'I would offer you wine but I do not enjoy your company to that degree.'

He raises his flagon to his lips. 'I did not realise you were here Rochefort.'

His eyes grow colder at the mention of Richelieu.

"I've been here for some time. Fortunate enough to avoid you, until now."

His lip curls.

"I shouldn't have expected to find you sober."

'I find that my enjoyment of being inebriated is severly dampened then. I would not wish to fulfil any expectation of yours.' The inflection on the last word manages to convey the deepest contempt.

'And I have but recently arrived. I was enjoying it, up until now.'

Oh, 'contempt' is Rochefort's middle name.

...actually, it's Vincent, but he doesn't go into that.

"And I would not wish to have you enjoy anything. It appears that I'm winning on all counts."

He stirs some sugar into his absinthe and takes a delicate sip.

'Well monsieur, I shall have to find a way to equal your win perhaps.' He drinks some more wine. 'Is the Cardinal here?'

"He is not." Another, longer drink of absinthe.

He keeps his face utterly emotionless, only wincing a little at the bitterness of the drink. As much as he wants to get the hell out of the Bar, it's truly a relief to be away from Richelieu, who has always seemed to enjoy humiliating him in private.

It might be worth noting that he isn't wearing as much black as usual. He's got a white shirt on. Bar makes him wear it.

'That is something I suppose.' Athos is very drunk but not so far gone that he can't appreciate the non-Richelieu-ness of the bar. Quite the opposite in fact; he is quite seized by the notion that life is somehow better now that he knows the Cardinal is not likely to spring from nowhere.

'You are not looking your normal self Rochefort. There is colour.'

"Against my will," he murmurs darkly. "I wear what is given to me by the Lady Bar. She is generous."

He doesn't like the idea of drinking in front of Athos, because he knows he doesn't have much tolerance for alcohol and he hates the thought of losing control and looking like a fool in front of someone he can't stand. But once one starts drinking absinthe, it's difficult to stop. And the glass...appears to be refilling itself, though he doesn't notice this directly.

"It is entirely possible that he could arrive here at any time."

'Then I can only hope the Lady Bar takes a fancy to dress you in pink. I would be highly amused.'

He manages to say this with no expression whatsoever. Might be implying something, might not.

'And I hope he does not. Unless the bar should choose to balance the sides and allow me a comrade also.'

"I would not leave my room if she did. I do not aim to amuse you."

He snorts into his absinthe at this last. "What good would a comrade do you? In a place like this, what match would a fool like Porthos or Aramis be for His Eminence? Aramis would never come downstairs, and Porthos would be too distracted by the magical goings-on to provide any service to you. You would be more than outmatched."

Athos drags an eyebrow up drunkenly, empties his glass and then pours another. 'You are speaking of Musketeers Rochefort, men of honour who stand for one another. Porthos and Aramis would hardly allow me to become 'outmatched' - why, I am not now, when there is just the two of us!'

Rochefort lets out a bark of laughter. The absinthe glass has fully refilled itself and been drained twice now.

"I would dispute that, Athos. Most men would."

'Would you really Rochefort?' He drains his glass again. He's been drinking for about seven straight hours now. 'Most men would not be that foolish I believe. perhaps you would be though, you are hardly noted for your intelligence after all.'

Rochefort arches a delicate eyebrow. "Am I not? I am told it is one of my more notable features."

Well, maybe not when he's this drunk. It doesn't take him anywhere near as long to get thoroughly sloshed as it does Athos.

"I have no reason to fear you, Athos. Your sword is nothing to be afraid of when you don't have wine to make you bold, and just look at you now. You couldn't walk straight if you stood up."

Neither could Rochefort.

'You don't fear my sword Rochefort? Perhaps I should rectify that situation and teach you a lesson then Monsieur. For I have no doubt that even after sitting here for a while, I am still better equipped to disarm you sir.'

Rochefort sneers. His hand is already at the hilt of his rapier. Sober or drunk, he'd never pass up an opportunity to smack Athos down, and this looks like a prime one.

"Shall I take you outside and demonstrate how little cause I have to fear you, then?"

A duel! It isn't possible for Athos to turn one down - not that he would ever dream of it anyway. And this one he will positively relish.

He stands, swaying slightly. 'You are welcome to try Monsieur. I am quite sure that you will have reason to fear me soon enough and I confess, I shall take great pleasure in killing you.'

Rochefort gestures towards the lake door with a flourish, chuckling darkly.

"You cannot kill me here. You would be a fool to try anywhere, but in Milliways, it is impossible. Still..."

He starts walking towards the door, weaving more than a little. 'Is there some reason for this monsieur? Has your skin acquired the ability to turn aside steel?'

Rochefort holds the door open, not because he's trying to be polite, but because he needs to grab onto something to steady himself.

"I have heard that Death does not work in the Bar."

He's also heard about the instances where it has. But those are inconvenient to think about right now, so he doesn't.

Athos 'hmphs' loudly and skeptically as he exits the bar, bouncing off the doorframe as he does. 'I do not see how that is possible.' Then he stops and surveys the outside, which is threatening to double before his eyes.

'Pick a spot Rochefort. It is a dead man's privilege. I am not particular, I will kill you anywhere.'

Well, Lee isn't the type to randomly poke...

...okay, yes he is, but not with people he's only met once.

He surveys the empty wine bottles with a slightly raised eyebrow, but refrains from comment.

"Hey. You settled in okay?"

Athos is an extremely intelligent man. He recognises the face - it just takes a moment, in his present condition, for the name to come. But eventually, 'Ah Monsieur Castle, oui?' He gestures to the bottles. 'Settled in well, I thank you. Would you like a drink?'

He sits down on the opposite side of the booth. There are few occasions when Lee wouldn't like a drink. Especially when it's being offered by a Frenchman who looks like Kiefer Sutherland. He's only human.

"Sure, thanks." He smiles.

He pours another glass and slides it across. He's customarily a very quiet man, and doesn't usually welcome company while drinking - but he will not ignore someone who specifically talks to him. Especially not someone who helped him out when he arrived.

'How are you Monsieur? Well I hope?'

If Lee thought he was intruding, he'd leave, but he's not so good with the taking hints or realizing when people don't want to talk.

"No complaints." He shrugs casually. "Run into any of the weirder aspects of the Bar yet?"

It's not that he's intruding. Athos is just like that. And company is good for him ~~declares mun~~.

'Weirder?' He stares drunkenly. He doesn't understand the word exactly, but gets the idea. 'My wounded shoulder was healed by witchcraft. Or sorcery or some similar thing. Other than that, no, nothing too unusual. One unpleasant man and a hated adversary from home, that is all the strangeness as yet.'

Lee winces sympathetically. "I know all about running into adversaries from outside. Not much fun. The sorcery aspect's usually pretty cool, though. There have been times when it hasn't worked out so well, but..."

He's thinking mainly of the Compulsion.

Athos merely raises an eyebrow. 'There have been bad things here?'

"There have been...incidents. Not that often, but they happen. Some of the magical beings around here, uh..." He coughs. "They don't always like to use their powers for good."

He looks a little alarmed, in a drunken kind of way. 'The plague! How can they be stopped though? Surely mere men have no power over such creatures?'

"We don't. But there are magic users on the Security staff who can deal with them. Sometimes it takes a while to overpower the badguys, but it ends up working out eventually."

He shrugs. "It can get weird, though. There was one time when this guy called Q was going around turning people into animals and stuff. He eventually got taken down, but it took a few weeks."

Athos can only stare.

'...Animals?'

He's not that sure he's liking this place any more.

"Usually. He turned people into other things when he was feeling creative. He turned me into an 80-year-old man for a day or two, but my friend went and appealed on my behalf and got turned into a cat in my place and he was stuck like that for about three weeks. It wasn't good."

He sighs. "And then there was the truth compulsion. That only happened to me and a few of my coworkers, though. We're not sure where it came from. Someone cast a spell on us to make us be completely honest about everything, so we were going around confessing things we didn't want to and it got pretty inconvenient. It sort of overlapped with the Q issue. But those are the only major incidents I remember at the moment. Like I said, they're pretty rare and usually end up getting controlled fairly quickly."

There's a quiet and worried mutter of and he reaches for more wine, topping up Lee's glass at the same time. 'I do not think I would like to meet this man. He does not sound honourable.'

"Thanks. And I think he's gone. Or if not, he's at least been behaving himself. Once threats are removed, they don't generally come back..."

He pauses, thinking of Mandy, but he doesn't bring that up.

"I don't want to make it sound like nobody's safe here," he says apologetically, sipping his wine. "More often than not, this place is fine. Some people just occasionally like to stir up trouble."

Athos doesn't mind trouble so much. Or at least excitment. 'It is not the danger than worries me sir, for I ma used to such trials. But I must confess, the use of magics are unknown to me and I do not know how I would fare against them.'

He'll confidently take anyone on with a sword. Magic though? He has no idea.