gunsforhire | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Church and everyone. Everyone else.
What: Drinks! Chats? Shenanigans. Tipping your bartender.
Where: Eagle & Asp
When: ~~whenever you want it baby~~ 5/21 through the evening
Warnings: surely I don't have to warn everyone about their language right

Church is a regular here. Not as a patron, hell no, but as a bartender. Usually, in fact almost always, in blue (especially his helmet), declaring his side the 'eagle' side. It's a themeing thing, okay? Don't question the theme.

And he really wishes the mercs would find other bars to hang out in, planning their whatevers and darkening doorsteps, but what's he gonna do, call security? So long as he gets paid, then whatever.

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Oh, good. Church is on duty. Church always puts little umbrellas in the drinks and Wash could totally use a little umbrella right now. Maybe even a green one. It's not a yellow-umbrella day, those are for when things really suck. Green umbrella days are when things are doing pretty good. Could be better, but overall, things are on the up-and-up. They're a happy umbrella, but not as happy as the red ones.

"Hey," he says as he approaches the bar. "Can I get a banana daiquiri?" But what he's really asking for is any alcoholic beverage with a little umbrella.

There are some things that Church just doesn't have the patience for. And then there are the things that he pretends to have patience for so he can keep having a paying job and not end up out on his ass. Again. Putting up with stupid, asinine requests from the drinking public with a pretend smile is on both sides.

"Coming right up." The chipper tone is false, but it hasn't been a bad day for him either. Any chipper tone from him is patently false. Or at least that's what he'd say. "What kind of umbrella day is it today?" He's picked up that colors and moods are connected with Wash. These things a bartender just sees. Any good one, anyway. "We got some blue ones."

Wash swears there's something with that guy and the color blue. Still, he's not going to begrudge a guy his favorite color. Although he's not quite sure if Church even has favorites. You have to like something first, to have favorites, and Wash hasn't seen Church be genuinely pleased about anything. Not even the little things in life. Not even little umbrellas. Still, if they just got some blue umbrellas, there's a chance Wash could get an extra. Maybe. If he tips well. "Yeah, sure. Blue works." Blue and green are pretty similar, anyway.

Why not? Blue's an awesome color. It's good to be blue. "Come on, Rescue Ranger," cuz, see, it's kind of like Recovery, to be Rescue, and then--nevermind, "gotta give me something here. You're having a day. I need to know what kind so I can get you the right umbrella."

Sure, okay, he's kind of a misanthrope, or comes off as one. He doesn't really seem to like people. But damn if he can't do the idle bar chatter. Scientifically proven to get people to come back and spend more money. Bottom line, bitches!

"Or else I'm just gonna have to guess."

Wash snorts at rescue ranger. That always makes him think of those dumb cartoons about the mice that save the day, but saving the day is never as fun as they make it out to be in cartoons. Wash knows from experience.

He shrugs. "I mean, it's more of a green day, but blue works too. Especially if you've got a lot of them." Wink wink. Maybe Church feels generous today. Maybe.

"I get you." Loud and clear, Ranger Rick. He'll take a little longer with the daiquiri only because, guess what, he's fit as many umbrellas in as he can, in an array of colors. There's a straw poking out among them. With a green umbrella sticking out of that one, too. Appreciate his work, damn it.

Wash nods approvingly. That's some real art right there. He takes the green umbrella out of the straw and twirls it between his fingers. "Thanks, man. You outdid yourself tonight."

"I try." To make the mercs happy. Even if he doesn't really like them. Because happy mercs means, generally, less trouble. "If I could, I'd give you the whole damn box, but the boss would wonder where it went."

Wash nods sagely and tries to take a sip of the daiquiri. He gets a face full of umbrellas instead. Amazing. "And the whole box wouldn't fit in the glass, either. There's no point in a little umbrella if it's not in a drink." If Wash has figured out one thing in his little life, it's small umbrellas.

There's no point in a little umbrella at all he would really like to shout if he decided he didn't need a job anymore. "Dude," he says instead, picking one up to twirl between his fingers, "I have no idea what the fuck you see in these, but if the little things make you happy, then whatever."

Church makes a good point. What does he see in them? Wash shrugs. "They're like regular umbrellas, but smaller. Which is pretty neat. Kinda exotic. Fun to twirl around." Even Church twirls them. It's almost like it's therapeutic.

What a fucking. weirdo. "Whatever you say, kiddo. Whatever floats your banana boat."

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