deckard3_icon.gif kaylee_icon.gif leonard_icon.gif teo_icon.gif

Scene Title Arrrr!
Synopsis An night at Shooters, Deckard is drunk, Teo and Leonard find him that way, and Kaylee is being a bad girl just by being there.
Date September 21, 2009

Shooters Bar and Bistro

A place that used to be a cafe and is making a slow progression towards being a dive bar. During the day, the balcony and a good portion of the sidewalk is taken up by outdoor chairs and tables, where people can enjoy a beer as well as a sandwich or whatever else is on their menu - a decent, if simply array of bar food. During the evening, unless it's a warm night, these are taken inside, and the kitchens are closed. A wide variety of beer is available, along with hard liquor and maybe a few wine labels, but nothing fancy. The interior decor is similar to traditional British pubs, with a hardwood bar and brick wall. There's an old pool table towards the back, along with a dart board. The building is actually two storeys high, but whatever is upstairs is inaccessible to the general public.

Shooters is a bar and Deckard is an alcoholic. Apparently needing to drink less in order to get drunk doesn't negate the desire to drink in and of itself. So here he is, hunched into a seat at the bar ahead of a cluster of empty glasses with his bristly temple rested in the upturned brace of his left hand and the right wrapped slack around one of two bottles of beer. So at least — maybe he's winding down. A bit.

Rickety thin under a brown leather jacket, breaths slow and posture lax, he's half-heartedly studying the back end of a waitress working the other side of the bar. It'd be easier if he didn't have a leather patch blacked in over the socket of his left eye.

Daddy Monroe would be awfully upset that little Kaylee is now walking into Shooters, dressed in her worn leather jacket, heeled biker boots, a pair of jeans and a white baby doll tee with the words <Insert Witty Phrase Here> plastered across the chest in black. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, leaving only a few tendrils of loosely curled blond hair to frame a rather pale face. She looks rather worn out, but thanks to her meds, she's in a rather chipper mood.

Edging her way up to the bar slipping passed anyone there, Kaylee leans over the bar, to try and catch the attention of the tender. Of course, he seems rather busy at the other end, so she gives a sharp whistle. When he turns her way she crooks a finger at him and gives him a little smile. "Come on down.." She whispers to herself, as he makes his way down so that she can order a coke. That's right…. a coke. Once that's done she can finally drop herself onto a barstool with a sigh.

"There's surprisingly little butter in the chili recipe I was looking up," says the air over Deckard's shoulder, moving in sudden, slight displacement around Teo's settling figure. He has a grocery bag, a receipt in his fingers, a knot in his brow and an unerring instinct on how to completely ruin the mood, apparently. The bartender remains blithely unaware that Laudani has once again come to disrupt the normal decay and darkness of Shooter's with his blond and blue-eyed audacity.

This time, however, he isn't wielding a wolf-headed cane and a parkour leap out of the window, but cheery gay domesticity. Cooking plans. You can make chili with a hot plate. "And how long's it been since the last time I reminded you to call Abigail?"

And in contrast to Teo's angelic blondeness is a saturnine little figure. Leo's default expression is somewhat sulky, and there he is lurking at Teo's back, blinking dark eyes at Flint. He knows him. Knows he's Abby's beau, even, and gives him the overt 'what -does- she see in him?' looking-over. Teo's doing the scolding/reminding, so he's silent, hands thrust into the pocket of his fatigue pants. He's wearing a dark gray hoodie over a blue shirt, and he's got his usual thug's hunch in place.

What's not to like? When Kaylee sits down to take a place at the bar between his line of sight and the waitress he was busy speculating about, Deckard dithers indecisively a moment before squinting at her instead. His eye travels down, dooown away from the face, clear blue dulled somewhat by warm light and however many rounds until — Teo.

Teo and a grocery bag and something about recipes and something sulky blinking at him with dark eyes. The Abigail bit earns a sullen knit of his brow, resentful and avoidant past a brush of his thumb up to hook and grip a beer bottle cap lazily into the socket of his good eye. "Arrrr," is — his answer. <:/a

Humming softly to herself, Kaylee twists the bar stool back and forth watching a pair of rather drunk individuals attempt to play darts with poor results. Obviously not too much has changed since the last time she was in this bar several months ago. The movement of figures past her view, forces her to focus on the trio near her.

Of course, Kaylee notices the old man, something vaguely familiar about him and the grumpy one. However, it's escaping her at the moment, it'll bother her till it comes to her though.. She doesn't miss the travel of his eye. You don't work at a bar and not get use to being looked over like that, it actually makes her smirk with amusement rather then being offended.

Fffuckin' weirdo. Teo's forehead ladders with its own share of annoyance, and he looks down at the counter-top for a moment, trying to count by the rings and smudges and bottles and glasses left there how many Deckard's already gotten through. A pointless effort. "Fine," he says, finally, looking up in time to catch Kaylee's brief peripheral flash of attention. "F—ine."

There's no point in repeating that term, of course. It adds nothing to the conversation, but the hiccup of interruption bridged in the middle of the syllable lends one to think he was thinking something else, Deckard especially, even if Teo doesn't go quite so far as to press him with good ol' Catholic suspicion. He angles a jut of his jaw across at the chalkboard, in case Leonard hadn't seen, prices of the beer on-tap. "You started fixing it?"

"I'll have a root beer," Leo says, finally piping up, oh so helpfully. He plops himself down on a stool a couple spaces down from Deckard. Teo can be the buffer, or the monkey in the middle. He eyes Kaylee with absent assessment, but none of Deckard's appreciation.

Several. Several is likely an accurate assessment of how many Deckard has had. He lacks the coordination necessary to keep the bottle cap in for more than a few seconds, anyway; it tumbles out, flips end over end, skitters across the bar to bother Kaylee while Deckard sniffs and scrubs at his sandpapery jaw and is generally genuinely unhelpful in regard to pretty much everything.

"Coke and rootbeer at a fucking ba…" His train of thought is successfully interrupted by the hiccuping lurch of a muffled belch. At least it is quiet.

The hand he had at his temple creeps up to splay across the rest of his face. If there is any answer to the question of fixing, it is too quiet or too incomprehensible to be made out through the rough of his palm.

The young woman just offers Leo a bright smile in return of his assessment, she holds about just as much interest in him and he is of her. Mostly, she's just curious as she doesn't miss his drink order and she considers him, and ventures to ask, "Not much of a drinker either?" Her own non-alcoholic drink finally arriving. Money changes hands, and Kaylee takes a long drink from the glass.

It's bothering her that they seems so familiar, nails tap on the bar top as she tries to recall where. The bottle cap tumbles to a stop as it bumps into her fingers. Fingers stop the tuneless rhythm to pick up the cap. Turning it lazily in her fingers she glances at Deckard, peering at him. "That's right. I come here to watch the rest of you all drink," she states rather cheerfully. The cap's edge touches the bar and she sends it rolling lazily back down to where it originated. She watches it, but there is a slight grimace, which she quickly covers with another drink from her glass.

Root beer. Teo's glance is about as quizzical as Deckard's remark, though not long returning with a clear blink of blue eyes. Hey, the girl's striking up conversation. Fortunately, nothing he'd be morally obliged to interrupt on Abigail's behalf. Not to think the worst of Flint or anything: only, the littlest Baptist had been in a bit of a mood last Teo had seen her, annnd he tries to stay prepared for worst case scenarios.

Guns, knives, sobriety, round-shouldered thug posturing, low expectations, keys to somebody's chastity belt kept on the same ring as the one to his Harley. But all thaaaat aside—

It takes him a second or three to relax his face enough to crack Kaylee a smile, but when he does it it's sincere. "I'm Teo," he introduces himself, finally. Jerks a thumb at Deckard, then around at his other side. "Deckard. Leonard. I used to work for John Logan. Who're you?" He corrals in the grocery bag with his other hand, moves it off the counter and onto the floor with a weighty creak of plastic and tin.

Used to work for- ? ! Leo's head whips back around at that off-hand comment, and he blinks at Teo. And then shrugs at Deckard. "Not in the mood for booze right now," he says, lazily, apparently not willing to take offense. He presents Kaylee with a smile that's sort of a tentative baring of teeth. That's how you hyoo-mins make this gesture, right?

"You sign on as bitch of the mnn — month — and I'm the one in the goddamn doghouse."

Odd how these words find their way into audibility with ease where the ones prior were cowed to the stumbling block Deckard's hand presents all pushed up over his face so that loose skin, nose and brow all get smudged up into variably unattractive contortions. He's not actually mad. Probably. Everything's kind of buzzy and pleasant and warm, all the way down to the slow turn of bottled liquor moving independently of him on the other side of the bar.

"And I'm not fucking…Deckard — I'm Mike." Slurred grumbling ensues then, probably involving at least one use of the word 'dipshit.' C'mon Boy Wonder why you gotta be using his real name in the public works?

Deckard.. Ah ha! Abigail's grouchy old man. The one she worried about. That little revelation gets a grin out of the woman. "Kaylee," she offers brightly. "Nice to meet you boys, though no idea who John Logan is." Her eyes drop to Deckard and she smirks. "You though… Last time I saw you, you looked… about as rough and were swinging a crutch at some guys head." She sounds rather happy about that, one mystery down at least.

Twisting her chair to glance at Leonard she gives him an amused look, "You know.. you don't have to smile. I won't take offense.. you look a little unuse to it." She seems to consider him and adds, "Have we met before? Don't recognize the name.. but… " She suddenly shakes her head and shrugs, a hand dips into the pocket of her jacket to retrieve a prescription bottle. Her eyes drop to it as she works on extracting a little white pill. "You probably just have that kind of face."

Glancing over at Deckard, she smirks. "Alright… Mike." Not the first person she's met that likes to use a different name. She tosses the pill in her mouth and takes a sip of her soda, the bottle disappearing again. "Seriously, though. Sounds like you have had plen-ty to drink."

Well, Boy Wonder is using his own, and what with the bakery job— oh, that's right.

Deckard hasn't even told Teo about the bakery job, yet. And apparently Kaylee already met him before. There's a old couple's bickering squabble abridged and silently signalled in the brief exchange of Looks that Flint and Teo give each other, before both their respective attentions are snagged again by the young woman. Of course, Teo's line of sight then immediately swings back to pin Deckard with I told you so, be as it may that he's avoided actually saying anything about the old man's drinking habits since ever.

"You work around here yourself?" he asks instead, lifting a brow, a pleasantly casual brandof curiosity.

"Don't think we have. And I'm forgettable," Leo says, letting his eyelids droop lazily. Not that he's dismayed by this trait. It's useful. The 'tender hands him a bottle of IBC so he can pretend to be a real grown-up. Good luck with that. "Leonard Shelby." No one ever gets the joke.

"Probably deserved it," is what Deckard has to mumble re: attacking people with crutches. He is not convincing or particularly heartfelt. But he is performing a kind of interesting slow motion slide into a head down rest on his arms, scuffed leather warm with whiskey stink. Looks are exchanged on the way down, sidelong by one-eyed necessity, groggily irritable by force of remnant personality before he's face down and the bartender is frowning at his tab. It is a lot shorter than it was last time he passed out in here.

And still, Kaylee gets a quiet, jacket-obscured, "Fuck you," at her assessment of his intake.

Kaylee makes a show of thinking about Teo question. "Mmm… Nope." That last given short and sweet, with a single shake of her head. Pleasantly, she adds, "I work at a bar… called Biddy's off the island." She brushes it off with a lazy wave of her hand, "Come here now and then. Use to work that soup kitchen. Then I got grou— " Grounded might not be the best word, to use around here, so she goes with, " Got too busy with work."

And yes, the joke does right over Kaylee's head. Might be her hair shade, but more then likely… she just plain old doesn't get it. She eyes Leo for a moment and huhs softly. "Probably, right."

And Deckard… His grouchy insult gets a laugh and a toothy grin, "No thanks," she states brightly. "Totally not my type." Her eyes narrow at the old man, teeth lightly taps together as she tries to decide something. Instead she looks at the bartender, motioning at Deckard with a jerk of her thumb, "«I'd say he's done.»" The man behind the bar gives a slow nod in agreement, as her ability presses him to agree, and wanders away.

Sweet girl to care, Teo thinks, passingly, leaning his chin on his hand and his elbow on the counter-top. He watches the 'tender start to move away without suspecting a thing, the corner of his mouth tendriled up in a wry grin on the side of his profile that Flint can't see. "Oh— wait, sorry. Hey." He flags the barman down just a second: he needs a shot of something to take the edge off out of the cold when he has to scrape together his stuff and the motivation to get up and go, follow Deckard out to the weasel's burrow they have on the boardwalk.

There's a wrinkled bill for it laid out on the spot, a generous tip lumped into it, and then he's knocking liquor back and shoving the glass away with a sigh blown out under his knuckles. "I know Biddy's. Heard they remodelled or some shit, recently. New management?"

"Work at a bar, myself, sometimes," Leo notes, offhandedly, taking a pull off his rootbeer. "Old Lucy's. Makes decent money, even considering it's a second job," HE swings his gaze back to Deckard again. Like mere staring will let him divine why on earth Abby touches him.

Grizzled hair buzzed down to a level that's getting long enough to look untidy, rumpled jacket, eye patch, on his way to falling asleep slumped over a bar, Deckard is Grade A beefcake, so long as you are shopping at Wal-Mart and don't care to read the label too closely or squish around the package to test temperature and consistency. In any case, he doesn't lift his head again to protest being cut off, and probably won't any time soon, a shabby lump of bristle and hunched shoulders loused up onto the bar at Teo's side, probably all the way until he's shaken awake and dragged home.

A glance to Teo and Kaylee nods. "Yep, new management. Though I get a bit tired of being there what seems like all the damn time.. It's part of the reason I came out here tonight. It's not always good that everyone knows your name. Can get boring if your not meeting new people." Not to mention, she doesn't have to worry about people out here babying her about her health. She gives a roll of her eyes and grins, "He pays me well enough though." Leo's mention of Old Lucy's gets a surprised look, "Really? Hey! That is where I know you." She shakes a fingers at him,giving him a sly smile. "Your a friend of Abigail's. I think I saw you there once. I worked there for a short time, until my current boss took me on full time."

Hey. She knows Abigail. "Sweet." Teo doesn't recognize her from the scantily-clad girls who used to writhe on the bar, back when he'd visit the bar during the hours when scantily-clad girls were writhing on the bar, or that would be the easy explanation. He's about to ask, but Deckard's falling asleep. He looks across at the older man, out from under an inquisitively stooped brow, finally fetches one callused hand up, a forefinger pointed to ease a clothy depression into the man's skinny, sleeved shoulder. There is no response.

"I think we're gonna head out." He slings his feet to the floor from his stool, reaches out to secure a square-fisted grip on his friend's elbow. Glances up at Leonard, nothing inquiring about the shifting knit of his brow. "See you back on the mainland, right?" Tug. Shuffle. Lean together. Groceries swing from Teo's fingers, hitched closer to his ribs.

Leo glances back from his reverie, nods. Following Teo's lead in this, as in everything. Almost. Right? He offers another of those uncertain, ill-fitting smiles, more of a sheepish grin, slips down. Like he'll help Teo with Deckard.

"Well, at least he has people to make sure he makes it home." Kaylee sounds that amused about the situation. Lifting a hand in farewell, she gives Teo a lop-sided smile. "Come by the bar any time. It's not Old Lucy's, but it's a good people. I'm almost always there. Boss has me on double shift most of the time." She lifts her glass and adds, "It was nice meeting you all." She then slowly turns her barstool lazily back to watch the men shooting darts. Sipping her drinks, she wincing as one barely misses sticking another patron.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License