Freed From Carbonite


trask2_icon.gif ygraine_icon.gif zachery_icon.gif

Scene Title Freed From Carbonite
Synopsis Trask and Zachery meet with Ygraine in a punk rock pub, and silliness ensues.
Date September 16, 2008

The Surly Wench

A punk rock pub through and through, The Surly Wench is dim, cramped, and incredibly popular. It's a small, rectangular venue with a bar bordering one entire wall. Despite this, ordering a drink on a weekend can be an exercise in line-waiting and rib-elbowing. There are a few small tables ringed with high stools for seating, but these are prime real estate. The majority of the patrons are forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder on any given night. Almost half of the cramped interior is devoted to a low stage for live music. There's no dance floor. If you feel the need, you'll have to thrash in place.

Officer Trask was just getting off work, and Zachery was looking a bit over stressed. He asked the coroner out for a drink, to maybe relaz some, and picked of all places the Wench, saying some rather strange things about Trasks taste in music for a police officer.

Already helping to prop up the bar, an athletic young woman in black - with the flag of the United Kingdom across the back of her leather jacket - is currently engaged in amiably insulting banter with the barman. In the end, he swaps her money for a pint, and she turns to set off in search of some portion of floor with more elbow-room.

Zachery looks overly stressed pretty much half of the time he's awake. That doesn't take away the fact that a drink is more than welcome, even if the place he and Trask went to get it is a bit… different than his usual environment. To say the very least. The off-duty coroner has opted for a Guinness, but has since finished it and is tapping the side of a coaster against the top of the bar while peering around at people. His expression is somewhere between boredom and… sheer bewilderment. He's not really sure what to make of this place. "… Sso, this is your 'crowd', then?" He finally asks Trask, glancing at his colleague.

Trask chuckles and shakes his head, "Not really, I am mostly open on music, but this place has the most noise complaints in the city this week. I usually try to check out the hot spots in case I am ever called out on a call here." He chuckles softly, "Be prepared like they say."

Ygraine edges around the man with the tattoos, belt overhang and receding hair pulled into a pony tail of the classic biker - and finds herself blinking in disbelief at Trask. She double-takes, stares, and finds herself still wondering if she really is seeing the police officer….

"I suppose." Zachery answers in a mumble, then clears his throat as he looks around again. The coaster lands on the bar with a -thk-, again, but stays there. The coroner's eyes land on Ygraine's face, and follow her eyes back to Trask. "Then again, there is a girl over there staring at you like she knows you pretty well. Odd." He grins, tilting his head upward slightly in curiosity.

Trask raises his eyebrow as he sips his drink his eyes turn to scan the crowd, and he smiles seeing Ygraine, "Just someone I ran into on the job a few days ago."

Hoping that she does have the right person, Ygraine lets herself be prompted by that smile to move closer, nodding a greeting to the two companions. "Good evening, Mr Trask", she says, voice distinctly not that of a local.

Zachery nods in return. The accent is picked up on immediately— his own isn't entirely unlike it, even if it's faded a little over the years. "See, at least you make friends at work." He glances askew to Trask, smirking faintly. "Live ones."

Trask grins softly, "Not all of us are into dead naked girls Zak." he grins andgives the man a wink before turning back to Ygraine, "Hi….fancy running into you here?"

Ygraine shoots Zachary an amusedly quizzical look in response to Trask's comment, before grinning at the cop. "Slightly different outfit to the last one I saw you in…. Is this another poor foreigner you've been sent to try to find a way to deport?"

"I-into dead girls?" Zachery repeats after a few seconds, the grin having disappeared from his face. "Well, in the literal sense, you know with— gloves and— but not—" Ultimately realizing this will probably only get worse the more comes out of his mouth, he slumps and quietens helplessly. Buh.

Trask says, "Doctor Miller, this is Miss Fitzroy." he smiles softly, "Doctor Miller works for the police as well." he smiles a little and shakes his head, "Deporting really isn't my sport of choice, and I find Dress blues a little conspicuous when out drinking."

Ygraine quirks a smile at Trask, then offers Zach a formal bow - accompanied by a wink. "My dear Doctor. What an unexpected delight it is to encounter a man of education and breeding, especially in present company."

Zachery chuckles nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. Compliments do not often come his way. Sincerely meant or not. "Ah— yes. The country could use some more of those, eh?" Then, giving Trask another look, he adds, "So, 'another foreigner', you said? Have you been giving Miss Fitzroy some trouble?" Heh.

Trask says, "I was asked to go down an do some investigations on a local company, check out passports and work visas, Miss Fitzroy works there, I had to give her a full interrogation."

Ygraine arches an eyebrow, then laughs. "He bought me breakfast and asked if I'd seen anything odd", she explains with a grin to Zach. "We wound up talking about conflict theory, as I recall…"

"Sounds… interesting." Zachery mumbles in a way that doesn't quite make it clear whether he's serious or not. Probably not, judging by the look on his face. "But, er, nice to meet you. I assume you have a first name to go along with that last one?"

Trask grins a leans back a little, letting the two brits introduce themselves for a moment he takes another long sip of his drink, appears to be a scotch of some sort.

The young woman's face momentarily falls in response to Zach's first comment, before she finds another smile. "Ygraine", she offers by way of introduction. "Do you two work together much?"

"Zachery." the man answers, straightening up slightly in an attempt to look a bit more comfortable and slightly less out of place. "At times. Some of our cases overlap, I— well. You might've guessed I work with the less lively clientele." Oh, bad coroner jokes. How you can ruin conversations.

Trask says, "Zachery cuts people up for a living." he smiles a little, "He's one of those geniuses from CSI and the like"

Ygraine giggles, shaking her head. "Sounds more like an ME than a crime scene guy, to me. In CSI… that'd make you… Peyton, given your nationality. Mmmmm. I'm not sure that Claire Forlani was the right casting…"

Zachery's mouth is… open, but not quite producing words. "Uh." Genius? Me? Oh, ego. You're so easily flattered. The fact that he spends most of his awake hours at work also kind of leaves him clueless about who this 'Peyton' is. "… Okay." He finally utters, before finally finding some other words, "Though usually I'm just 'the creepy guy down in the morgue.' Genius is a nice change, though." He grins.

Trask chuckles softly and shakes his head, "I'm the creppy genius down in the morgue who cuts up dead girls?" He puts a hand on Zack's shoulder, "Sorry but we hae got to work on your pick up lines If I am going to be your wingman" he smiles at Ygraine, "Any mine to for that matter, though so far it looks like it's working Zack, she hasn't run away screaming yet" yeah he is definitly happy…and definitly had a little too much to drink.

Ygraine laughs once more, shaking her head. "Oddly enough", she observes, with a slight glance towards the other clientele, "I don't come here for the hot guys. Don't worry about trying to impress me with pick-ups or come-ons…."

Zachery flinches slightly at the hand on his shoulder, quirking a brow at Trask. He can't help but smirk a little at Ygraine's comment though, amused. "Yes, and I suppose your 'full interrogations' are a good way to get to know someone? Don't think I don't see through that strategy." Then, looking over to Ygraine again, "Let me guess, he's got your number?"

Trask shakes his head. "I'm sorry I don't pick up girls at work, no matter how tempted I am. " He smiles "Most of them tend to be the kind you don't take home to mom."

Ygraine chuckles, shrugging as she flashes another grin at Zach. "I figured that whatever my thoughts were on the matter - good or bad - the officer here could pull up my contact details if he wanted to anyway. But having a cop's number might be useful for me… it's not as if couriers don't run into hassles every now and then, after all."

"I'm sure." Zachery glances to his empty glass, then to Trask. "Well, for what it's worth, you don't have to worry about /me/ trying any pick up lines. I'm rubbish at the… social thing anyway." He then jerks a thumb to the other man. "Him, however, I can't vouch for."

Trask shakes his head and rises, heading for the bar he orders three new drinks and returns in a few moments, putting one down in front of each of you. "I always miss the good old days, when you didn't have to use pickup lines, you just needed a big club, and the ability to drag a woman by the hair.

"Well-preserved for your age, it seems", observes Ygraine dryly, darting an amused glance to Zachary. "Do you supply him with formaldehyde to fend off the effects of aging, or something?"

Zachery smirks, holding back a chuckle. "Well, see, have you seen that one episode of Star Wars, where they freeze that Han guy? Guess what, that really works. I let him thaw and run around every now and then." A more blatant lie there has never been!

"The NYPD has carbon freezing? Wow. Maybe I should think about signing up, eh? Though I suspect that I might not be alowed to spend all day on a bike, sadly…." Ygraine chuckles, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her drink.

Trask chuckles softly, "It does get awfully cold in the crypt, but they let me out for a couple months every decade or so, something about checking up on my condition."

Zachery grins and picks up his new drink, downing nearly half of it in one go. "Which appears to be in order, by the by. A few more weeks and it's back into the freezer for you."

Ygraine giggles again, half holding back laughter. "So… if he's the Han Solo type, what are you, Zachary? I seem to recall that it was Jabba who owned the carbon freezing unit, but you don't quite seem to fit that role…"

Trask says, "He's lost weight, See Zack I told you people would notice the diet"

Zachery wrinkles his nose, looking down to his stomach (or lack thereof) and patting it contemplatively. "Well. Maybe not anymore, yeah. But you should've seen me last winter. Could've given Jabba a run for his money!" Then, frowning, he adds, "… Or, well, a wobble, anyway." Again a blatant lie, as is all too evident by the slightly awkward grin he gives before the rest of his drink is poured down his throat.

Ygraine arches an eyebrow, eyeing Zach's now-empty glass. "Are you in a hurry to be somewhere? Or just fitting in as much of this weak American water as you can while your charge is free of the freezer?"

Trask chuckles softly, and shakes his head. He leans back some and listens to the two accents.

Zachery rubs the back of his neck again, grimacing slightly as he peers at the glass he's setting down. "Well, er." He starts, forcing a grin back on his face. "As I said, not too used to social situations. This kind of… takes the edge off things?" Unfortunately he's kind of used to trying to take the edge off things, and it's not working quite as well as he'd like.

Ygraine laughs softly, gently shaking her head. "Me, I've not been here long enough that I'm used to downing a pint in two gulps. Though given the alcohol content of most US beer…." She dubiously eyes her pint for a moment, then chuckles. "Honestly - don't worry about trying to fit in. This is the sort of place you shouldn't have to worry about that. It's a bar _for_ misfits."

Trask says, "Misfits?" he looks around, "Is that like I am a rebel like all my friends?" he shakes his head, "This doesn't look all that misfity, a little counter culture maybe…."

"It's not the fitting in I'm worried about anyway. Any trouble I run into I can just blame on my wingman, here." Zachery is reminded of something, though, and quickly checks his watch. "Though now that you mention it, I shouldn't be making this too late. I have got work faairly early in the morning, and I'll be on call again in… about four hours. Whoops."

Ygraine takes another, longer drink. "Myself, I was just stopping in briefly to see who was around - find out which of us non-misfit expats and other mundane counter-culture types were here. At the moment, this is the closest thing I have to a "local", which should probably be worrying… But I should probably be on my way shortly. Want to shop for a few things before everywhere closes."

Trask grins, "I should be going to, it is getting late, and I do have to work in the morning"

Zachery nods, getting up from his seat and - despite not feeling all too drunk - watching the room move just a bit too fast before he manages to steady himself. "Well, 'm off to find a cab, then. I'll see you at work some time, Trask. And, uh, you—" He turns to Ygraine for a moment, between readying himself to work his way back out through the crowd, "nice to meet you?" This comes out more as a question than anything else, partly because he's not quite sure if the feeling is mutual.

Ygraine chuckles, inclining her head and raising her near-empty glass to Zach. "A pleasure, Doctor. And good evening to you both."

Trask smiles and rises to follow Zachery, "Yeah your right I should be getting a cab too, you want to go half Zack?

"Ahh." The coroner ponders, looking back toward the rest of the pubcrowd. "Sure. If you can lead the way through this madness, here."

Chuckling silently to herself, Ygraine gently shakes her head as she watches the odd pair depart.

September 16th: Propaganda, Politics and Piccoli's
September 16th: Oranges and Bananas
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