gunsforhire | Log: apartment hunting success

Entry tags:

Log: apartment hunting success

Who: Sigma, Texas, and Church
What: grabbing drinks after a day of apartment hunting
Where: the Eagle and Asp
When: Monday night (22 June)
Warnings: alcohol, possibly language

Sigma underestimated how exhausting apartment shopping could be. He and Texas hve filled out an application for a small apartment that's almost halfway along the shuttle line between campus and home. One bedroom, one bathroom, and reasonably-well furnished, with a decent location? It's better than he expected to find. He's triumphant but exhausted.

Still, when his sister invites him out for a drink afterward, he's eager to go. It's been fun, spending time with her by himself. He sees no reason to end the day out before he has to.

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Uh, ma'am is a sign of respect, so no, he never had any plans of calling a mer ma'am. "Nope. I'll find a nickname for one one of these days, just like Maine. Something other than 'big scary motherfucker'.

"Buuuuuut mercs aren't what we're here for, so how 'bout that smooth cran-vodka flavor, huh? Or maybe you're more of a rum and coke kinda guy. Or maybe you'll be sipping appletinis with Info Booth." Ugh, he feels dirty even mentioning Florida. That's like a speak of the devil situation.

"Info Booth? You mean Florida?" she asks with a raised brow. What the heck kind of nickname is that for the guy? "And yeah, you need to give that a try, kid. Otherwise how are we going to narrow down what you like?"

"I like the sound of the vodka cranberry," he says. "Let's go with that."

Though the rum and coke does sound good. Maybe some other time.

He might need a drink himself after tonight. C'moooon big tip! The drink sparkles that dark reddish and sweetly enticing. And really, who doesn't like vodka? Only crazy people don't like vodka.

As for Tex, "What? He's the Informant, so he's Info Booth. There's him, and Keys, and Rescue Ranger...I'm still working on Maine, but 'big scary motherfucker' is always appropriate, and then there's lovely lady french who needs a nickname yet because you guys keep fucking multiplying. Or you guys keep coming to my bar, anyway."

"What, you'd rather I didn't come by and shower you with my money? I could take my business elsewhere, tell the others the asshole at the bar doesn't want to deal with us anymore," she says, as if she's seriously considering it before shrugging it off. "Lucky for you, bar hunting is a pain in the ass."

"Lady French? You mean Louisiana?" He shouldn't be surprised that Louisiana came here, he supposes, but it's still a bit of a shock to hear the bartender mention her. Rescue Ranger is more obvious, as is Keys. He smiles fondly at the mention of his Thief.

He takes his drink from the counter and sips it, intrigued. It certainly tastes like cranberry juice, sweet but with the vodka giving a different kick than the usual sour flavor. It's good. Really good.

"Oh, oh yeah, 'lucky', that's exactly how I feel." There isn't any real anger or malice behind it. There's actually a lot of amusement behind it. No, he's not exactly a fan of the mercenaries, but they don't all suck all the time.

He clicks his fingers at Sigma. "Yeah, that chick. I was treating her like any other patron when Maine had to come up and let me know what was what. Talk about a shocker." Kiddo sure looks like he's enjoying himself, and Church leans his elbows on the bar. "So, kid's not a merc, so how are you two...?"

"Why does it matter to you?" she asks sharply. "You don't get paid to ask questions."

The Soldier having a family isn't exactly a connection she wants a lot of people to make and this asshole prying into that isn't helping to keep it hidden. If only she could say this was the most annoying conversation she's had with him.

Sigma's not a mercenary, but he seems to know all the mercs who are patrons at this bar. Whoops. Maybe he and Texas should have established a story earlier? He really doesn't want to give the line about him being Louisiana's rookie. That rumor doesn't need to travel any further than it already did.

"That sounds like Maine," he says instead. "He's very protective of her."

"Christ," Church yips, putting up his hands in case the Soldier is about to take a swing at him, "I'm just making fucking conversation like I've been doing this whole time. No need to get so worked the fuck up."

Means that whatever they are, they're low key. Also means this kid's important to her. Boyfriend? Family? Something along those lines. "I can keep a damn secret; we bartenders are basically like therapists." But whatever. "Who's up for a tequila sunrise? I'm up for a tequila sunrise. Let's get the kid a tequila sunrise." Yep, Church is the very best at transitioning and subject change.

Church is fortunate she's not looking to start a bar fight while she's out with her brother. Punching out the bartender is a fast track to having to head home and make her own drinks.

"Make two. I'm going to need a light buzz if this means anything for the rest of the night."

"A therapist, for mercenaries? No wonder you want such good tips," he jokes. Most of his friends tend to be level-headed, but he can see the need. He watches the bartender make the drinks, curious to see what a tequila sunrise entails (beyond the obvious tequila).

See? Kid knows how to lighten the mood. Some kinda counterpoint to Tex's high-fucking-strung attitude. If he took off his helmet right now, he's be grinning. (It would also be a mostly fake grin, but nobody would have to know about that since he's not taking his helmet off.) He'll throw two together, flipping the jigger around his fingers fancily. Not many ingredients, easy and smooth, as requested.

"Maybe I'll shut my face and let the kid help you work out your short fuse anger issues." Out of habit, he pops a little umbrella in each, and he mentally curses himself because he wasn't going to fucking touch the fucking umbrellas but that's part of the drink it's tropical it gets umbrellas fuck you Washington.

"Pretty shitty therapist," she grumbles. But hey, she now has a drink in front of her with her favorite tequila mixed into it. So things aren't nearly as bad as they were a moment ago. Small perks.

"You talk this way to all the mercenaries that come in?"

"Hope not. It's probably not a good way to keep people from getting angry," he says. "Though the umbrella is a nice touch."

This drink is even sweeter than the last one. Not bad, though he wishes he knew the flavor of the syrup. Isn't tequila Tex's favorite?

"Hey, my head's still attached to my neck, isn't it? I'd say I do pretty well navigating mercs." He's even liked by some of them, so there!

"Could do without the added frou frou," she says and sets her umbrella in Sigma's drink. Kid could use a second one and who did she look like? Wash? "Keep them as souvenirs."

"Thanks?" He isn't sure what he'll do with them, but they do look nice. He lets them be for now. Later on, he'll pocket them, but they aren't in the way yet.

"So is this place local mercs only, or do you get a lot of tourists who have to learn the rules?" he asks.

Okay whatever so kid isn't a wacko fan of umbrellas, good to know. "Dude, if this place was mercs only, I would not be working here. A lot of them just happen to filter through here. I guess it means we're just that good of a watering hole."

"Something like that," she says with a shake of her head. "Don't give yourself too much credit. You don't charge out the ass for drinks and are easy to ignore when you start asking too many questions."

"You do that to everyone," he says. Well, except for the twins, because nobody would ever ignore them. "Don't take it personally."

"Eh, I never do. Trust me, kid, I'm used to being ignored." Insert dramatic sigh here. "Woe is me."

"He sticks around me too long to take it be taking personally." Yet, he never hits on her. She's not sure what his deal is.

"At least you're good at the job you do?" he says, finishing his drink. "Both the serving and dealing with people ignoring you?"

"You got your rowdy customers, you got your drunkards, those you learn to handle. Then you got the mercs. I dunno how long you've been around them, but you tend to learn how to keep your head on. Or down. Sometimes down is better."

The look under his helmet would be pointed if Sigma could see it. Learn when to duck; it's important.

But he beams with a little pride. "I am good at my job, though. How are you handling the drink? Fill'er up? How about you, Tin Soldier, or are you ignoring me now? Still working on that name."

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Alpha do you have super big-bro juice-remembering powers? Cranberry juice is his favorite!

...sure. let's go with that. sounds better than 'pulled from ass'

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