our troubles are all the same

[cons]

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. ]

Comments

HEY GIRL SORRY I'M LATE but also ota

[picnmix]

[ it's not like Nathan halfway lives here, but he kind of halfway lives here. which means when he saunters in, he makes a very casual show of helping himself behind the bar while Wichita's otherwise occupied.

he's tried most of the alcohol space has to offer, and he's taken to inventing his own very colorful mixed drinks to keep things exciting. they're awful 99% of the time. he drinks most of them anyway, but it does take a few tries this go (the rejects he passes off to the patrons on the other side of the bar, of course) before he gets something remotely drinkable.

then he settles in where he is, leaning back against the cabinets while he watches the rest of the room idly and waits for Wichita to kick him out. ]

four days later oops weheheh ;;

[cons]

[ normally, when more than two bar-goers ( hey she's not perfect, she'll give herself a two displeased customers cushion ) say their drinks taste like garbage or toxic sludge, she assumes Nathan is mixing just around the bend. because yeah, this ridiculous half-circle bar is long enough that if she's at one end, she can't really tell what's going on at the other. so when four different people tell her "that one bartender" is mixing like shit, she knows exactly who it is.

so after getting all four of them new drinks, she heads on over that way, and now is when she would usually flick him in the shoulder MENACINGLY or something, but instead she just puts her hands on her hips and takes on the role of Lackluster Bar Owner ]

If you could stop serving everybody vodka and piss, that'd be awesome. 'Cause nobody wants to drink that. [ yeah yeah she knows he's just giving away his cocktail failures, but if she's not gross about it, he'll never remember. or something. this is her Nathan logic. ] How long have you been here?

wraps u up

[picnmix]

I haven't even gotten to the piss yet.

[ said with a grin before he takes a swig of the drink he's finally settled on. not that he would actually start putting piss in drinks for customers.

probably. ..... maybe. ]

But not long. Actually, no, I've been here for ages; don't you know you're meant to work the entire bar?

[ he hasn't really been here that long, but he'll take the chance to sass her for neglecting this side of the operation. ]

[cons]

People know not to come down to this end. It's where the new guys practice mixing drinks. And hound all my booze.

[ as if it's actually hers, and as if she cares. she's about five seconds from wagging her finger at you though, sonny boy. show some fucking respect. but no, she doesn't actually ever expect him to, and no, she's not sure she wants to be around the day he actually decides to be respectful or anything else than what he already is. ]

And the only time you can serve piss in a cup is if a man named Sebastian Moran shows his stupid muttonchopped face in here. I mean, run after you do it, though. Because he will shoot you if you poke at him too much. I know that from experience.

[picnmix]

[ the commentary only earns a broad, slightly proud grin, because yes he hounds all your booze and you love it. but what the hell is the rest of that nonsense. ]

Sorry, did you just say he's got muttonchops? Are we talking like nasty facial pubes or the really proper muttonchops, because if he's got the real thing going on I might have to be slightly impressed.

[ but wait, she said some other things too, didn't she. ]

But not impressed enough to not serve him piss, obviously.

[cons]

[ okay, now she will shove his shoulder, because were you not even listening?! and sure he corrects himself, but that doesn't count because she's sure he's just pulling at straws. ]

They're the real deal. But his facial hair isn't enough to redeem him for his terrible personality and terrible life decisions. I don't.. know if he's the only one that's got 'chops, but if a tallish guy comes in here and calls you chum, that's your cue. [ she nods, end of discussion, because talking about Maroonie too much will give her hives or something, she's sure of it. ]

I don't know why I'm even saying all of this, you are not actually a bartender here. I would never subject people to that, we've got enough shit to deal with. [ her nose scrunches up ] Yeah, you know what? Next time someone asks you for a drink, just point them my way. ... Unless it's Moran.

[ oops, there's a second nod. end of. though now she's decided she's going to stick around at this end of the bar, so she tucks her foot on top of a crate under the bar to boost herself up, so she can sit with her back to the dance floor ( and the customers oops ) toes tapping in the air a bit. ]

So what have you been up to? Besides dicking around here. Make it a good story, today kinda sucks.

[picnmix]

[ he doesn't seem particularly convinced on the moran front, because a man with muttonchops who says 'chum' a lot? no, not very threatening, sorry. ]

So yes on the serving him piss, then.

[ that's what he got out of that. yes, he's good at following. but if she doesn't like moran, certainly making him drink piss is the correct solution. but when she asks what he's been up to, there's actually a pause - not quite hesitation so much as it is him considering, not entirely confident as to whether he should be honest or... well, deflect.

he goes with something in the middle, voice deliberately flippant. part of him actually wants to talk to her - still, he normally wouldn't. it's her asking for a good story and declaring she's having a rough day that tips the scales. ]

Well, I suppose there was the whole dying thing. And then the hallways, but we've all been there, haven't we?

[ but then there's a beat, and his attention shifts to her - maybe even with a touch of actual interest. she doesn't usually bitch about how bad her life is, so he's curious about what could possibly constitute a bad day. ]

What's going on with you?