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

[cons]

[ there's a very big Frown of Protest at 'poor, underdeveloped space bar', but she doesn't interrupt, not when she's curious where he's going with it. there's a sad shake of her head because no, they don't have wine, which is a damn shame really. she's been lamenting the fact for a while now. then again, she's never had someone there come talk to her about bargains. ]

I'm listening.

[quotate]

[ Which means they don't have any, which once again-- unsurprising. Poor, underdeveloped space bar is considerably lacking but that's no surprise because duh: space. Who has wine in space? Maybe Neil Armstrong was off having wine while pretending he was on the moon and getting paid the big bucks for it but that's a whole other story and Moz makes himself comfortable, learning forward just enough and talking a note lower under his breath. ]

If you can make me something to drink that you think I might be at least able to suffer my way through, I say we swap stories.

[ He won't say what kind of stories, and he won't say this is a test, but he's more than a little bit perky enough to imply that this shouldn't be a DO OR DIE sort of situation. Except for how it most definitely is. ]

SHRIEK sorry

[cons]

It won't taste like perfectly aged grapes, but I can make a tasty cocktail, sure.

[ which means she'll have to bring out the big guns - the donated bottle of Jack Daniels she hardly ever uses unless she has some sort of impression or deal to make. space rum is not even remotely close to being something she considers a decent drink, so. gotta make sacrifices sometimes. she's also reaching for the grenadine, the space version of ( what tastes like, at least ) cola, and a rocks glass. aw yeah.

by the end of it, she's made a drink that basically just tastes like cherry coke. ]

I hope you can find it in your heart to be a Coca-Cola guy, just for now, at least.