milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Angelo comes in, barefoot as is his habit, and makes for his usual corner. He doesn't have his guitar with him right now. Grabbing a beer from the bar on the way, he looks around for anyone he knows.

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A sunburnt young man sits at the bar drinking coffee and smoking a thin cigar. He gives Angelo a low-key wave, recognizing him as the guitar player from the previous night.

Angelo waves back, raising his beer in a toast-slash-greeting.

The bounty hunter leans over to offer the young man a cigarillo. He notices the grey skin, of course, and has simply assumed Angelo is one of the dead ones he's heard about. He's not sure if the dead smoke, but he's smoking, and he's been assuming he's dead. So it's worth a shot, and it's the polite thing to do.

"Smoke?"

Angelo grins. "Never turn down a free cigarette. Thanks, man. I'm Angelo."

"Joe." He picks up a match, considers striking it on the bar, then thinks better of it and lights it off his jeans. He lights the guitar players cigarillo then leans back to smoke his own, squinting in the rising smoke.

"So you play guitar in this joint?"

Angelo nods a silent thanks and takes a drag on the cigarette before answering. "Part-time, yeah. If they take me on permanently."

"Met the bartender and the bouncer last night. How do folks end up workin' for the bar?" He wonders if maybe the guy with his head on fire and the other staff he'd seen before belong to this time. He knew there weren't any girls with hair that color in his own time. Angelo seems to have come here from outside, like the guests, but he said himself he's only part-time.

Angelo shrugs. "The bartender posted a notice asking for applicants to sign up, so I did. I figure you just ask him if he's got any work going."

The bounty hunter smiles a small, rueful smile. "Don't know that he'd have much work for the likes of me. I was just curious."

Angelo nods, curious about what 'the likes of me' means, but not about to ask someone he's only just met. "You new to the bar?"

He nods. "Showed up last night. You been here long?"

"Couple of weeks. Pretty much here to stay, now."

"I might be too. Not sure." He glances at the door. "Not sure I can get back if I go out, either."

"I haven't heard of anybody being locked out", Angelo tells him helpfully. "But then, I guess it'd be hard to tell that from someone choosing not to come back..."

"Mostly I ain't sure I died or not. At first I was pretty sure of it, but the more I thought on it, the less sure I got. I reckon if I am dead, I'm better off here than back where I came from. I'd have to be a haint if I went back, either that or go on to Hell. But if I ain't dead, I don't mean to hang around here til I am."

Angelo nods, and states the obvious. "Sounds like the first thing to do is find out for sure, then. There's quite a few around here sometimes who could tell you - Death herself, for one."

Joe takes a long drag on his cigarillo. It's hard to play the stoic in this place. "Didn't realize... she came in," he finally rasps. "Didn't realize she was a she, neither. I'll have to keep an out for the lady."

"The one who comes here is a she", Angelo answers with a shrug. "Met her once, since I've been here. Looks like a pretty girl in black, with patterns drawn round her eye."

[OOC: Should be keep an eye out, obviously. Whoops.]

Joe stubs out his cigarillo. Heady stuff, these bar conversation. "So, you playin' tonight?"

Angelo shakes his head. "Not tonight, unless someone asks - my trial period's over and it's Lady Tere's turn, really."

"She any good?" In Joe's mental model of bar entertainment, men play instruments, women sing and, in certain kinds of places, dance.

"Lady Tere? She's the muse of music. Knows every song and tune ever written."

"Fair enough."

[OOC: Ok, time to go try and find something I can eat. Thanks!]

[ooc: no problem, it was fun!]

"Angelo, could you possibly inform me as to why I got turned into a fleshie (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/890467.html?thread=31306083#t31306083)?

Angelo blinks. "Uh - what were you doing when it happened?"

"I was trying to leave."

Angelo takes that in. "So... you're Bound? The bar wouldn't let you leave? Well, that happens... but I haven't heard of anyone changing form because of it..."

"What the slag is Bound?

"Bound. Stuck. Can't leave."

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