ataraxionlogs | our troubles are all the same

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our troubles are all the same

CHARACTERS: Wichita and YOU. well, the bartenders and bar regulars. or not-regulars!
LOCATION: Space Babylon
WARNINGS: booze?
SUMMARY: No special occasion here, just an open post for anybody that frequents the space bar. mix and mingle, friends. put up open threads for your characters, or talk to Wichita, or. whatever. anything goes!

[ it's been nearly a week since the last jump, and Wichita's still in a shit mood. which she hates to admit, but it's the truth. she misses Brendan, way way too much. no really, it's too much. she's furious with herself for letting herself get that attached to someone, because she knew, she knew this could happen and it's still chewing up her insides like something our of a dramatic chickflick. her life feels like a sad, sappy little montage from a really terrible space-romance movie right now, and it's making her feel even worse than losing him in the first place. she isn't getting trashed ( at least, she hasn't yet ) and she isn't wasting bullets at the gun range, she's just- doing nothing. at the bar. she's spending all her time at the bar like serving drinks and distracting herself with other people's problems will make hers go away.

it's failing, but whatever. it's easier to not get angry or sad over the situation if she doesn't let herself think about it too much.

so there she is, behind the bar, Jenna's iPod providing a decent mix of tunes over the speakers possibly a little too loud because she doesn't care to overhear anybody's conversations today. either that, or she's too lazy to turn down the volume. either way. she's not looking all that approachable ( at least, not as much as she usually does while she's here ), but she'll probably be the one mixing your drinks today, so. hope you're not too put-off by that. then again, if you're somebody she actually wants to talk to, she might stretch a smile across her face for your benefit. which is the closest thing to a 'no please come talk to me' you'll ever get from her. ]

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Well, hey there. Mordecai. [He takes the hand and gives a firm shake, then gives a nod to the bartender as he picks up his refilled glass and has a drink. And as with nearly everything here, it's not terrible, but he's really looking forward to making his own now, more than ever. Though of course that's no immediate guarantee of quality, either. He motions for Netherlands to follow him to his table.]

C'mon, let's see what you've got in there.

[Apparently the only good thing here is rum, but seeing as Wichita never told him that the rum was rationed and he doesn't care enough to bother with the good shit - not here, definitely not right now - he's got a glass of what-the-fuck-ever in hand as he follows. Not that he's taken more than a sip or two.]

Fuckton of fruit.

[That's the easy answer.]

'S what I was hopin' to hear.

[He reclaims his seat and has another drink, then glances at his comm before turning it off and shoving it aside. Mijo looks a little unsettled by the change in altitude, always preferring when his perch is standing rather than sitting, especially near people he doesn't know, so the bird keeps a close eye on the newcomer.]

[Any business that was about to go down is completely sidetracked when he sees the - the, uh - ]

The fuck is that thing.

[Is it going to eat his fruit.]

[He laughs a little and reaches up to scratch briefly at the bloodwing's belly, which is enough to distract him for the moment so that he stops staring at Netherlands like he had been.]

My bird. Don't worry 'bout him, he... Well, he does bite, but only if you try'n pet him an' he doesn't know you.

[Or if the other person was obviously wounded and bleeding, but since Netherlands clearly is not, Mordecai figures there's no need to point that out.]

Anyway, what kinda fruit you got there?

That's a bird.

[No. Really. That thing is bird. No wonder Jaye likes this guy. But since he's not about to get attacked by a whatever-the-hell-thing-that-is-or-a-bird, he eyes it one more time and busies himself with carefully emptying out the sack across the table, making sure to catch every round item that tries to roll too far.]

Everythin' I tried down there that's sweet enough to work. Don't know what some of it is.

[Which earns a poke to the nearest fruit, some odd cross between an apple and a plum. Spacefruit, man. There's also a spare kuim - it's not on the table, literally, because he grabs it and starts eating it. They won't be ready for another half a year.]

Not one from Earth, heh.

[So if you wanted to be absolutely scientifically correct, no, it isn't a bird, but it has feathers and it can fly, so it's close enough for him.]

You're growin' things that you dunno what they are?

[He laughs a little at that, then reaches for something vaguely reminiscent of a cherry, though when he bites into it, it has several small seeds instead of a pit. Hopefully they're not poisonous or something, because spitting them all out one by one is too much work. Easier to just swallow them whole.]

Huh. Tastes like... kinda cinnamon-y.

[A swallow of the kuim, and then he thinks that maybe he should share even if it's not on offer - and promptly beats it down. Just wipes his mouth on the arm of his jumpsuit and takes a drink, eyes briefly flicking to the "bird" like he's still worried it'll eat the fruit before he nods.]

Mm. Some of it was already growin' when we showed up. An' some of it the passengers planted.

[He waves the kuim, casual but for the grip that plainly says it's his. His eyebrows go up at cinnamon-y. Doesn't sound bad.]

Been testing 'em on my chickens. [Well.] Just one of 'em.

Well, if the chickens like 'em, then it's good enough for us, huh?

[He grins, then tries a different one, and it's sweet but sort of bland, nothing special.]

What's the one you've got there like?

Mm.

[Just a noncommital grunt - if it didn't make the chickens sick it shouldn't make two guys many, many times their size sick either - and then he glances back and forth before answering. Nope, still not gonna offer yet.]

Called a kuim. Asato grows 'em, but the next batch won't be ready for - months.

[It's with that caveat that he shifts to pull out his pocketknife, slices off a piece and pauses, not sure how to hand it over without immediately trying to grab it back. Fuck masks, man. Uh. Finally his eyes light on a coaster and slaps it toward himself, thumbs off the fruit, and slides it over without looking.]

[The guy sure seems reluctant to hand over a piece of fruit, and he has to wonder if it's addictive or something, to cause that kind of reaction, because that sure looks like more than a standard "this is delicious and I want to eat it all myself". He drags the coaster toward him and picks up the slice of fruit, and has a bite, nodding a little.]

Kuim, huh? That's pretty damn good.

[But not amazing or anything, exactly, and he finishes off the slice, then looks for something else to try out.]

[He doesn't look up until Mordecai's speaking and he's sure they won't have to deal with any strange grabby-hands tendencies, because goddamn if he wants to explain that. On the other hand enough people seem to accept "mask shit" as an explanation - whatever. The hard part's over with, so he nods at a neon-skinned specimen and busies himself with his drink.]

Try that. Or the berries - [here he tips his glass toward some, and hey, he knows those; simple raspberries, blueberries. He downs the rest of his drink and fishes out a cigarette instead. Pretty much anything to keep from getting weird and possessive.]

[Mordecai isn't as familiar with Earth plants and he samples each, curious. The blueberry holds his attention, though, as a definite possibility - it has a pretty strong flavor, the skins would make for a nice, dark brew, and the seeds are small enough to be ignored for the most part.]

You know anything about this one?

[He holds one up, before eating it.]

Mm.

[There lasts an awkward few seconds where he grunts that and doesn't think to elaborate, just lights and smokes his cigarette in silence before he recalls that most people here aren't from earth. So right. Blueberries.]

Blueberry. Cold-weather fruit. From the... [yeah that won't mean a damn thing will it] It does alright, on the ship.

I kinda like it. You ever had blueberry wine before?

[There's a few blackberries in the mix too, and he goes ahead and tries one of those - and now the blueberry has a challenger, because this one is pretty good, too. Maybe he'll have to do multiple batches and try a few things out, if he has to be stuck here long enough to do so.]

Uh. No... lambic.

[Which. Also doesn't mean a damned thing, does it. Although after this long separated from his sister he could definitely go for a blueberry lambic. It'd suck compared to hers, too, so he shelves it before he ever voices it. So moving along, and he sees how many things Mordecai is testing out.]

Could try a couple-a batches. Hard part is finding the machinery. Fruit grows fast in the gardens.

[Yeah he has no idea what that is so he lets it go, preferring to focus on the task at hand. The neon one is okay, though it has an aftertaste he doesn't care for.]

I'll start with one. No need to get completely over my head.

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our troubles are all the same

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