gunsforhire | (no subject)

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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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"I came across a picture online of a guy who was in a motorcycle accident," Omega says, perking up at the memory. "It was a CT scan, he was somehow alive and stable enough for CT. There were vertebrae in his pleural cavity. And as cool as that is, it also looked pretty painful, so I'm not driving a motorcycle any time soon."

"Is that going to stop you from being a passenger?" If it is, she really might need to look into investing in a car instead of borrowing from 479er's garage. It'd make life a whole lot easier.

"Depends on how good your reflexes are." Omega says. "You won't let anything bad happen to me."

He's surprised that came out. But it's true.

She smiles and pats him on the back. "No, I won't. Driving through the city is nothing compared to some of the shit I've had to take my bike through."

"Like what?" Omega asks. What has she been doing, away from them?

"Let's just say there's been more than a few times I've had debris and shrapnel to evade," she says and hides her excited smirk behind her glass as she takes a drink.

"Explosions?" Omega asks. "How did you get in the line, anyways?"

"The line of fire? I've had to cut it close a few times when executing my exit strategy, that's how." It's the kind of excitement she lives for, even now.

"I get in, I take care of whatever mess is thrown my way, and I make it out alive. There's a reason why I'm A-rank."

Omega meant mercenary work, but he's distracted from that train of thought. "You're A-rank? Like Maine?"

She raises a brow at that. "Have been for a while now. I thought you knew."

"No," he says, wide-eyed. A-rank. His sister is cool. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Ten years, but I was using a gun for a couple before that," she answers with a shrug. Self-defense had been crucial. "A woman found me when I woke up alone. She took me under her wing and trained me."

All those times Omega has met a teenager, and thought of his own siblings, and his sister needed the same. And he helped Roxy, as much as she needed, because if it was his own sister, and it was, and someone did... "What was her name?" Omega asks the bartop. "The woman who took care of you."

"Texas," she answers quietly and her gaze is locked on the empty shot glass in front of her. This is as personal as memories get, but he's her brother. He deserves to know.

"When she died, I took up her name since I didn't have another."

"What did she call you?" Is that too personal? She'll tell him if it is.

"Took a while before we settled on anything, but Allie. Short for Allison." Somehow, the name had felt right and familiar even if she knew now it wasn't her own.

Omega nods. She probably won't want him to call her that -but this is a part of her he doesn't have to share. She was Allie for a while. None of his brothers know that. "You've had a lot of names," he says, not sure what else to say.

"You've had a few yourself. O'malley," she reminds him with a small smile. She remembers the damn name he tried to pass himself off as when they first met.

"Hey, that's a safety measure!" Omega protests. "It's to keep work from following me home."

"Yeah, I know. We'll need to get you a spare helmet to wear once you get more in the game as an extra piece of safety."

"I'm guessing you're going to say it shouldn't be black," Omega says, dragging his fingers through the condensation on the bar. He likes black. He fought so hard for it, but it wasn't on principle.

She can appreciate his initial color-choice, black's the same color she runs with on jobs. "Throw in an accent color or pick a different style. Just something that sets it apart. Doesn't have to be completely different."

"I like black," Omega says. "And Theta keeps acquiring my stuff that's purple. Have you seen his science project?"

"You could do black and red," she suggests. "And no, I haven't. What's he working on?"

"Black and red could be nice," Omega says. "And safe. Mostly safe. Theta did the chemical composition of fireworks. Built his own, set them on timers. Got an A. He should show you the video, it's really nice."

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soldierinblack - 2015-05-24 07:45 (UTC) - Expand

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