Name The Bull


buck_icon.gif robin_icon.gif ygraine_icon.gif

Scene Title Name the Bull
Synopsis The mechanical bull finally gets a name.
Date December 3, 2009


This is one of those slightly quirky places that some people find cute or kitschy and some people find intolerable. The theme is apparent even from the set of swinging saloon doors that marks the real entrance beyond the vestibule/hallway used for carding patrons. Inside the bar proper, the theme really takes off. It doesn't look like it was originally built as a saloon, given its rather large, open floorplan and utter lack of old-timey architectural features, but the walls have been papered with imitation wood paneling and a couple of stuffed dear heads are stuck up on the walls. The large dance floor is hardwood, raised slightly from the concrete floor beneath it. The long, polished bar sits sturdily in front of a wide selection of booze and drink specials are chalked up on boards here and there. A few posters on the wall advertise Wednesdays as 'Ladies' Night' and there are a few advertisements for area gay bars. The real feature of the place is a roped off corner on the other side of the room from the bar. It holds the pride and joy of the bar: a large mechanical bull on an amply padded surface. The music is a mixture of country and the usual array of music popular in clubs with bumping beats that the clientele certainly seem to get down with. Speaking of the clientele, they are probably some of the most conclusive evidence that this establishment does indeed cater especially to the gay community. Whether or not that was the original purpose of the bar is hard to say.

It's Contest Night! Buck decided on throwing a little contest to help promote the bar, so a banner over the door advertises a chance to 'Name the Bull!' A big bowl sitting on the bar with a pad of blank paper and a few pens will serve as the suggestion station. Buck is behind the bar at the moment, helping to serve drinks. He's got a notebook with him that Robin will surely recognize.

Robin is wearing a black turtleneck with jeans instead of his usual t-shirt. Though if one looks hard enough, they'll be able to see the edges of a few bruises around his throat. He's not behind the bar tonight, at least not yet, instead he's sitting on a barstool nursing a beer and toying with a blank piece of paper, thinking of names for the bull — which he has yet to ride. "How many names are in there so far, Buck?"

Ygraine pushes open the doors and steps into the establishment, pausing just inside to look around. Immediately feeling rather out of place, the black-clad woman in the Union Jack-decorated biker's jacket quirks a wry smile to herself, and starts towards the bar, boots clomping softly on the floor.

"I dunno," Buck tells Robin. At first, he looks puzzled at Robin's new wardrobe choice, but then he frowns at Robin's neck. It's only a fleeting expression, though. Then he smiles and shrugs. "I dunno, ten? Hope it don't take me f'rever t' look through 'em. Think I'll choose the best five an' put it to a vote." When Ygraine comes in, Buck notices and waves, grinning.

Ygraine waves back, glad to be recognised in spite of the change in her style of dress. Slipping up onto a stool a couple along from Robin, she leans forward amidst a creak of leather to rest her forearms on the bar. "Good evening", she offers by way of greeting, her accent educated and British - or simply "posh", perhaps.

"Name the Bull." Raquelle spends some time outside of the bar to muse that over before chuckling to himself and entering the bar not long after Ygraine and he scans the establishment with those perceptive eyes rimmed in eyeliner and he just smiles slowly as he eyes the bar and heads in that direction. He wears a dark purple almost black long sleeved mesh shirt, leather pants…his usual docs and a black leather jacket to match his pants, purple streak in his emo-fringe and the outline of his piercings can be seen through his shirt. "Buckman, Robin? No rubber nipple fetish superhero suits? I feel gypped!" He coos and gives a tiny sashay to reach the bar before flashing grin and waggling his eyebrows, blowing a kiss. "Hey sweetmuffins."

"Sounds like a decent plan," Rob drops his own (lame) suggestion in to the bowl, then gives the newcomer a smile, "Hey." Rocky's entrance gets a laugh and a wave. "Hey yourself. No costumes, spandex is evil."

Buck looks over at Raquelle and offers a wave to him. "Hey, Rocky!" he greets cheerfully, then looks at Ygraine. "Hey, I'm glad you came," he tells her. "What can I get you? An' uh…what's yer name again?"

"I quite like full-body spandex suits", the Briton says in an almost wistful tone, "but I believe that what was being mourned was the lack of rubber. A somewhat different fetish, on the whole…." Looking to Buck, she cracks a grin. "Ygraine", she says, pronouncing it something like ih-GREHN. "And… vodka and coke?"

Raquelle smirks gently at Robin. "Awww, sweetie. Not Spandex, it is like the lady here said. Rubber. Goodness me, I'm not that tacky." He winks and eyes the woman for a few moments before chuckling softly and leaning against the bar, humming along to whatever music is playing. "I thought I'd try to pay two of my boys a visit now."

If Robin made a face at the thought of full body spandex, rubber gets an even more disgusted expression. "Rubber sounds even more uncomfortable than spandex, and that's saying a lot." His usual smile comes back quickly enough though and he nods to Ygraine, "Pretty name. I'm Robin, in case you didn't catch that, good to meet you." Rocky gets a smile as well, "Been a while, how's stuff going for you, Rocky?"

Buck lifts an eyebrow at Raquelle. "Aw, Rocky, you oughta know I ain't th' type fer fancy outfits an' costumes. Most exotic thing anybody's gonna see me in's a pair o' chaps. Rubber sounds sweaty, anyway." Looking back to Ygraine, Buck furrows his brow. "Now, how do you spell that?"

"You apply talcum powder first, to the interior of the rubber, in order to get into it", Ygraine says with a quirked smile. "Spandex is much easier to get into…." Looking to Buck, she flashes another smile. "Y-g-r-a-i-n-e", she spells out rapidly. "And it's of unknown origin and meaning, but is first found in early Medieval Welsh tales of King Arthur, in case you were about to ask where it's from."

Raquelle just chuckles and falls quiet for a few moments, letting people do their introductions and such just resting an elbow against thee bar and his chin against his fist.

At the mention of chaps, Robin grins a little, "I gotta find a pair of those someday soon." He slides off the stool when his beer is finished and makes his way behind the bar, pouring himself a cup of hot coffee and adding a splash of Bailey's. "You want anything, Rocky?"

Buck smiles when Robin comes around. But he talks to Rocky first. "Hey, I think you'd pull off a costume a hundred times better'n I would. Don't you forget t' make a suggestion for the bull's name," he says. "You either," he insists to Ygraine.

Ygraine blinks, then glances around over her shoulder to give the mechanical creature in question a rather long look. "Mmmm. Not sure I've ever seen one of those for real before." Delving inside her jacket, she draws out a little notebook and miniature pen, then flips to a blank page and jots down a name. A moment later, Buck is presented with the torn-off and folded-over sheet - and a somewhat apologetic smile.

Raquelle stretches his arms out and shakes his head to Buck and Robin. "I only suggest one name." He quickly jots something down, sliding the paper across to Buck before he laughs softly. "Oh you are so cute, nah…not drinking today…I'll be back, need to use the little fabulous boy's room." He saunters off.

Robin rests his hand on Buck's waist for a moment as he slips by him to lean against the counter, tilting his head to see how full the bowl is getting. "Looks like people are getting in to it, which is good. That way you won't have to pick what I came up with."

"The girls have a lot o' fun with it, mid-week," Buck informs Ygraine with a slow smile. "Lotta guys're afraid o' bruisin' their balls." Buck drops her suggestion into the glass bowl. He grins at Robin. "How come? You don't like your own idea?" He nudges Robin's hip with his own.

Ygraine laughs, part-turning to peer at the device in question. "I suppose I'm sober enough to give it a go and get some idea of how difficult it is. Though perhaps making sure that I first see an expert demonstrate how it should be done would be wise…"
Robin laughs, "I'm betting Bruiser and Buster are both entries. I got mine from a movie, and you'll find out when you pick the names out." He pokes Buck lightly, "Lady wants to see an expert… that'd be you."

Buck adjusts his hat on his head. "Y'all wanna see me ride it?" he asks doubtfully. "Well, I ain't near as drunk as usual…" He takes a moment to pour out a shot of whiskey for himself and down it, then grins. "All right, if you want." Buck stands up on a crate. "Hey, ev'rybody!" he shouts. "We're 'bout t' have a live demonstration of th' bull by Yours Truly!" He grins. "An' after that, all rides'll be free for th' night!" He jumps down off the crate and heads over to the bull.

Ygraine looks to Robin, lifting a brow. "Free? Heh. You might manage to get me onto it after all, so long as it doesn't kill its first rider…"

Robin watches as Buck heads to the bull, but talks to Ygraine. "No deaths tonight; I've seen him ride it before. He's good, hell, he might get me on it. Though I bet I'll be on my ass within seconds."

Too bad Buck's too far away to overhear. He pushes his hat down firmly on his head, then hops up onto the bull, reaching forward to start it up. It starts to buck and jerk mechanically, Buck's spine and hips rolling along with the motion. He's had some practice at this.

Ygraine cocks her head to watch, genuinely quite interested in the technique - and trying to pay attention to how he stays in place rather than how his hand waves or anything else that might distract her. "So you've never been onto it?", she says sidelong to Robin.

Buck riding the bull isn't a view Robin's going to look away from long, though he does continue talking to Ygraine. "Nope, when I'm here I'm either at the bar or behind it. I help Buck out a few nights a week mixing drinks." He grins, "If I have a few more I may work up the nerve to try it though."

After about thirty seconds, Buck gets dumped off. There are scattered applause and cheers as he pops up, grinning. He takes off his hat and waves it, then jogs back over to the bar. Another fellow hops up eagerly. Buck moves behind the bar again. "Hoo, boy, that's fun," he says. "Hell of a lot safer'n the real thing, too."

Ygraine laughs, shaking her head at Buck, though her grin is somewhat admiring. "You're crazy. Did you try the real thing, in Texas? I knew that your sister rode competitively, but you didn't say that you did…."

Robin bites his lip in that habit of his as he watches Buck go flying, then pinches Buck as he comes behind the bar, just because. "Did you ride the real thing? If you told me, I forgot."

Buck smiles at Ygraine. "I've tried it, but I ain't too good," he says. "Only rode a bull a couple times, but I used t' help break horses on th' ranch. Kinda similar. He shrugs at Robin. "I can't stay on a real bull that long. They c'n throw ya quick."

Ygraine shakes her head again, and chuckles. "And people told me I was crazy for my choice of sport. Still, how hard can it be?"

She winks at the Texan, then slips off her stool and shrugs out of her jacket as Buck's replacement gets tossed off the mechanical creature. "If I break my neck, I'll haunt this bar", she cautions the owner, before stalking over towards the bull.

Resting his chin on Buck's shoulder for a second, Robin chuckles. "Your very own ghost… could be good for business." He takes another sip of the hot coffee, then pours a couple of beers for customers, keeping an eye on the Brit. "How long do you think she'll stay on?"

"You ain't gonna break nothin'," Buck says. The second guy to hop up has been long since thrown. "Just be careful not t' hit yourself in th' face or somehtin'. See, I learned on a mechanical one m'self. Bar I liked had one." He smiles at Robin when Ygraine moves away. "Bout nine seconds," he guesses. After a pause, he has to ask, "Your neck hurt?"

Robin rubs his throat once, then shrugs one shoulder. "It's sore, but not too bad. Promise." He tugs at the brim of Buck's hat and grins, "You can kiss it better later." Switching subjects, he watches Ygraine get on the bull, "Nine seconds, huh? Think I could last that long?"

Ygraine walks all the way around the nameless beast, looping her long braid a couple of times around her neck before taking a deep breath and clambering into the saddle. Inwardly, she's trying to calm her nerves - and trying to reassure herself that this is perhaps one audience that won't simply be watching her to see the effect of the bull's motions upon her chest.

When it starts into motion, she lets out a surprised laugh… but quickly demonstrates that she has exceptional balance. Given time, she might end up really rather good indeed… but for now, experienced though she is at coping with tricky matters of staying in the saddle, she's accustomed to a steed that responds to direction. And no matter how good her instincts might be for staying on a speeding bike that's hit a rough patch in the road, automatic attempts to right the angle of the bull don't exactly help her.

By the standards of first tries, it's a very good one indeed - but she's catapulted off at a forty five degree angle, landing heavily towards the edge of the padded area… then laughing loudly, if rather breathlessly.

Buck gives Robin a tilted smile. "Depends," he says. "I mean, maybe you got a lot o' stamina, but I don't know about your balance." Buck whistles at Ygraine's performance. "Hey, that ain't half bad!" he calls. Others line up. The atmosphere in the bar is getting very jocular.

Robin applauds, then pours Ygraine another drink, so it'll be ready for her when she gets back to the bar. "My stamina is just fine, thank you very much. But I don't know if I could stay on that thing. For starters, I don't have a hat." There is no logic here, don't look for any.

Ygraine is still chuckling when she emerges from the padded pit, shaking her head and panting as she returns to the bar. "I used to compete myself", she says by way of explanation to Buck, as she nods her thanks and accepts Robin's refill for her drink. "Though on two wheels, rather than something else's four legs. And I don't think that the bikes ever deliberately tried to throw me…" Cracking a grin at Robin, she adds, "I'm sure a hat could be found somewhere to help you."

Buck laughs. "Didn't say it wasn't, cowboy," Buck says, plucking his hat from his head and placing it on Robin's. "Yeah, th' real thing c'n get right nasty with ya if he don't want you on 'im," Buck says, then laughs. "Kinda like people."

"Motorcycle racing? That's takes a sort of craziness too…" Then there's a hat on his head, which he really should've expected. "Damn." Robin holds up his hands, "All right, I'll ride it, but no bets on how long I'll last." Finishing his drink, he slips from behind the bar and heads to the bull, eying it warily. Once he figures out how to get on the damned thing and get it started, he has just enough time to grab onto the saddle horn before he's flying off, all in all a grand total of about three seconds. Rob laughs though, as he lies on the mat for a minute then hops up and finds Buck's hat, sticking it back on his own head.

"Maybe you should've put the hat on the bull!", Ygraine calls to him, offering a warm grin as he returns. "And… I was a different kind of crazy again. I ride motorcycles for fun, and the thrill of the speed. I raced unpowered cycles competitively - hence the lycra body-suits. Both have given me a decent sense of balance, but… that thing's pretty different."

Buck throws his head back and laughs at Robin's performance, but there's no mockery in his tone. He's just amused. Then he grins at Ygraine. "Hey, motorcycles're pretty hot, though," he chimes in, pouring himself another quick shot and draining it. "All right, it's gettin' to be about time f'r me to go through these suggestions…"

Heading back to the bar, Robin takes a seat on a stool instead of heading behind it, and leans forward to put Buck's hat back where it belongs. "Looks better there than on me. Or the bull." He's still grinning, and rubs a hand through his hair, "I gotta admit, that was fun." As far as the bowl of names goes, Buck will find a piece of paper in Robin's hand writing that says 'Ernie' of all things.

Ygraine flashes another grin at her companions, then nosily leans forward over the bar to try to see the bits of paper. "The fastest postman in the West?", she asks, catching a glimpse of Ernie.

Buck grins. "That's good," he says. "Hides my scars." Which didn't seem terribly noticeable even with the hat off. Buck waves and stands up on a crate. "Last submissions!" he yells, and after a moment or two, grabs up the glass bowl and takes it into his office.

Robin laughs, "Nah, I saw it in some movie ages ago that had a bull like that in it." He frowns a little, "At least I think that was the name. Anyway, how'd you meet Buck?" His tone is just curious, rather than prying.

Ygraine chuckles. "I was in Central Park, sketching… and this moody-looking guy who looked like he should be three thousand miles away on a ranch wandered up to the pond and looked pensive. So… I included him… and he wandered over to see what I was drawing."

The music is turned down low while Buck's back in the office, but it takes him a little while to read all the suggestions and decide, it seems.

Robin frowns slightly, "Pensive?" He shakes his head, "I've never seen him like that." Shrugging that off, at least for now, Rob smiles. "Maybe I can see that sketch some time."

Ygraine blinks, then chuckles again. "I'll have to see about finishing it off, but sure. I could even sell it to you", she suggests with a wink. "Though I should probably wait till your drunk if I'm to get anything for it."

Buck comes out from the back at last, getting back up on the crate. "Hey, okay!" he announces. "We got a couple good suggestions here an' we're gonna vote for applause, okay? First lemme read 'em so you can decide which ones you wanna vote for. Ya get it? We got…'Ernie'…'Bucky'…'Buster'…'Blue'…an'…'Breakback!' Huh. B names're pretty popular. Y'all ready to vote?"

"Depends on how good it is as to how drunk I'd need to be." Robin replies with a wink. Then Buck is back and Robin's clapping louder at the last one, and glad there are at least some suggestions better than 'Ernie'.

Ygraine gives Ernie a cheer, though perhaps as the only person thinking of an old British comedy song when she does so, but also gives particularly enthusiastic applause to "Breakback", with perhaps-predictable bias….

It seems like the last suggestion has the most popularity, but there's some enthusiasm for 'Buster,' too, so Buck puts it to a last vote, and it seems that 'Breakback' ends up being the favorite. Buck laughs. "Great!" he announces. "I'll get a sign made up. Whose suggestion was 'Breakback?'" He knows, since she wrote it on her own paper, but he wants to appear fair.

Robin cheers for Breakback, and rubs his lower back dramatically, even though it doesn't hurt. "Fitting, very fitting. And I can make up that sign for you if you want, Buck."

Ygraine gives Buck a look, since she's sure he remembers… but after taking a moment to chuckle at Robin, she rather sheepishly raises her hand. "They're going to say it's the boobs that won it", she says, deadpan and straight-faced.

Buck looks at Robin in surprise. "Really? Well, all right!" He laughs at Ygraine's comment. "See, now that's prob'ly th' only way they'll know I was unbiased," he chuckles. "Okay, any drink you want on th' house."

Robin grins and kisses Buck's cheek lightly, "Of course I'll make it for you." He switches to a completely straight face, matching Ygraine's. "Should I put that on the sign? That the boobs won it?" He does try to make sure he's out of Ygraine's reach before he says it though.

Ygraine laughs, shaking her head as she grins at Buck, before snorting and giggling at Robin. "Sure! Should bring in loads of punters, shouldn't it?"

Looking back to Buck, she grins again. "Mind if I save that? I shouldn't have any more booze - I'm on the motorcycle tonight."

"Yeah, sure," Buck tells Ygraine. "Lookit, I got a bad memory, so let me write you an IOU." He writes on a cocktail napkin that he owes Ygraine one drink and gives it to her. "You bring this in anytime."

Robin waits until Buck gives Ygraine the IOU then has to ask, "Okay, I assume you're not talking football, so what's a punter?"

Ygraine laughs as Buck delivers her stylish IOU, leaning over to carefully tuck it into one of her jacket's many pockets, before blinking at Robin. "You…? Ahhh, ummm. A customer", she says. "Sorry. I didn't realise that was a Britishism."

Buck laughs at Robin's question, although he didn't know what a punter was, either. Buck briefly stuffs a hand into Robin's back pocket, but quickly realizes, "Oh, I gotta turn th' music back up."

Robin pouts juuust a little as that hand is removed, and watches as Buck wanders off to turn the music up. It's a pretty view. Dragging his eyes away, he responds to Ygraine. "Ahh, got it. I've never been called that before, so I guess it is a British thing. I've heard of poofter though." He puts on a fake British accent, which actually isn't too bad. "I'm not completely uncultured."

Buck turns up the music, then comes back. "What's a poofter?" he wonders. Buck doesn't read a lot, apparently. Or watch British TV. But you'd think he could guess. Instead of guessing, he sticks his hand back in Robin's pocket.

Ygraine can't help but laugh again, shaking her head. "Lucky you. I very recently came across "ginger" for the first time, as meaning something other than a food flavouring or a hair colour…" To Buck, she flashes another grin. "You are."

Mmm that's better. Robin wraps an arm around Buck's waist and leans against him a little. "Yep, we are, though I'm not totally one." He shrugs, as the only person he's with right now is Buck. "Not like it matters right now though."

"I am?" Buck repeats, looking puzzled for a minute. But then he smiles, showing teeth. "Oh, you mean a homo," he answers cheerfully. Robin's remark helped. "Hey, that's a new one on me."

"Usually abbreviated to "poof", these days. The approximate equivalent would probably be "fag" over here." Ygraine shrugs slightly. "Not, I admit, that I've exactly immersed myself in gay culture. That's one of the many areas in which the US tends to do things differently to the UK…"

Robin grins, "Poofter. It always sounded like it should be furniture of some sort." He moves just enough to grab a beer, then is back beside Buck. "How's the gay scene over there? More open?"

"Most cases, I hear 'faggot' an' I come out swingin'," Buck says, though he's still smiling. "But 'poofter' sounds kinda cute. I don't know." He smiles at Ygraine. "Bet English guys still do it th' same," he theorizes.

Ygraine frowns pensively. "Less… stratified, for the most part. Naturally, some people are more butch than femme, but… the concept of rigid gender-roles - butches hunting femmes and the like - that still holds sway for some people here, I've barely even heard a reference to, over there. And… while many people would rather not think about it or be confronted by it, it's also… in some ways it's more accepted. Partly because it tends to be less in the open. There's never been a Harvey Milk over there, though IC an think of one activist who'd like to think of himself as a modern equivalent. There are gay performers aplenty, and some - particularly comedians - focus on that for their public persona, but there are quite a few others in the public eye who… they're gay, but it's just in their private life. It's not something that gets fussed over. Heck, I only found out that one BBC journalist was gay about a year after she'd taken her partner along to meet the Queen at a formal event. It just hadn't been a remotely big news story."

"Huh." Robin muses over that for a moment or two. "So it's definitely less of an issue. Maybe one day we'll get to that, though things aren't as bad as they used to be." He waves a hand to indicate the bar, "There are more places like this these days, and more straights coming in, so… not quite as bad."

Buck frowns a little at Ygraine's information. He might be thinking about it, but he doesn't say anything, pouring out another shot for himself and drinking it.
You are currently OOC.

"Oh, it really depends on where you go. The black community in London is infamously tough to come out in, for example, while a lot of the poor of any race live down to the stereotypes of slum dwellers anywhere in the world. "Gay" is perhaps the single most common insult offered by idiot teenagers, for example."

Ygraine shrugs slightly. "But… the whole British reserve thing has its uses. Remember the fuss there was over here, when there was the prospect of Joe Lieberman making it to high office? Britain had its first Jewish-heritage Prime Minister a century and a half ago, and the name "Disraeli" wasn't exactly hiding his ethnic background. When one of the political parties tried to run a smear campaign against their rivals a few years back, most people didn't even realise that it was anti-Semitic: it's not enough of an issue for people to care. The acceptance of homosexuality is moving towards being about as mainstream, at least for the media and the literate portions of society, and there are some openly gay politicians in fairly high office."

Robin nods slightly as she talks, "I'd love to see it accepted like that here, right now I can't imagine an openly gay politician in any office, at least not without a lot of dissent." He grins with a shrug, "I don't get too involved in movements like that though; I'm pretty happy just dealing with what comes day by day."

"We're gettin' low on Jack," Buck says, pouring out the last shot in the bottle. "Gonna go get some more inventory." He steps around the corner to get a bottle from the back.

Ygraine offers Robin an apologetic look. "Sorry. Don't mean to preach. I try not to, but…." She shrugs. "I'm a conflict analyst, by academic training. Specialising in international relations rather than domestic issues, but… the manipulation of opinion and the excuses offered by the people doing it tend to be rather similar."

"No need to apologize." Robin grins, "I wasn't expecting a discourse on it all, but that doesn't mean it wasn't interesting. I'm an out of work actor who works at a coffee shop, so some of that went over my head, but it was still interesting. I'll have to look some of that up, I think." He eyes the door to the storeroom, unconsciously waiting for Buck to come back.

Ygraine chuckles. "I've mostly worked as a cyclist, so… you probably made a better career choice than me. You're unlikely to be considered "old" for your job by the time you're in your late twenties."

Buck comes back, looking a little suspiciously at Robin for some reason. Then he puts the bottle on the shelf and serves a couple of customers. But when Ygraine talks about her job, he smiles again. "You don't look old t' me."

Robin agrees, "You don't look old to me either. And I sure as hell hope late twenties isn't old for my job, seeing as I'm past that already." He drains the dregs of his beer and tosses the bottle, then tugs at one of Buck's belt loops. "Need a hand restocking or anything?"

Ygraine chuckles, smile grateful as it's offered to the two men in turn. "My wife makes me feel old at times. She's still in university!" Polishing off her drink, she sets it down on the bar. "I should probably be on my way. Thank you - both of you - for the welcome. I'll make sure to try to drag someone back here."

Buck shakes his head at Robin. "Nope, we're okay for now," he says, putting his hand in that back pocket again. He waves to Ygraine. "Well, come on back, an' don't forget that IOU."

Robin offers a little salute as Ygraine says her goodbyes. "It was good to meet you, and don't forget about that sketch next time you come by, either."

Ygraine grins at Buck, then blinks and laughs at Robin. "I'd forgotten about that. I'll try to remember to bring it along some time, I promise." Slipping off her stool, she shrugs into her flag-decorated jacket and, unsubtle hint at identity once again in place, she raises a hand in farewell and heads for the door.

Buck waves at Ygraine. But when she departs, he tightens the corners of his mouth. "I don't see what's so bad about America," he murmurs to Robin.

Robin ignores the customers and kisses the corner of Buck's mouth, "I don't think she meant it was bad — I didn't mean it was bad, it's just not the same there than it is here." He pulls back so he can look Buck in the eyes, "Not better, just different."

Buck frowns, not looking entirely convinced, but then he nods. "Okay. You want a drink?"

"If they weren't in front of a mostly full bar, Robin would take the time to kiss that frown away completely, but he settles for a quick bump against Buck's shoulder. "Yeah, I could use something stronger than beer this time, I think. Wanna pour me a Jack?"

"Yeah-huh," Buck answers with a quick smile, pouring out a couple of shots. He gives one to Robin and drinks one himself. "Mm. Good stuff," he comments.

Robin knocks the shot back and grins, "Very." Tilting his head, he bites his lower lip for a moment, "Hey, so she drew your picture, huh? When was that?"

Buck thinks about Robin's question for a moment. "Uh…I don't know," he admits. "Maybe the day before yesterday. Or yesterday?" Buck smiles. "Anyway, I think she's prob'ly a pretty good artist."

Robin doesn't want to pry but — oh who's he kidding; he wants to pry. "She said you looked moody… Was something on your mind?"

"Moody?" Buck asks. "You mean the other day? I dunno. I was lookin' at the leaves off the trees, I guess." Which doesn't really explain moodiness, from a conventional point of view.

"They're pretty when they change." Robin isn't going to press any more than he already has. "I hope she's a decent artist, if it's good I think I'll buy it from her."

"It wasn't half-finished when I saw it," Buck says, "So I can't say fer sure, but my sister likes t' draw, so sometimes I c'n tell what might look good."

Robin pours them out two more shots. "Well then, you can look at it first, if you think it's good I'll buy it from her. I like the idea of having a picture of you."

Buck shrugs. "Well, I mean, I prob'ly don't know any more than you, once something's done. You oughta just buy it if you like it, y' know?" He picks up his shot and toasts playfully with it before he downs it.

Robin toasts Buck with a grin, then swallows the shot with a little shudder from the heat of the alcohol. “We’ll see what it looks like.” He spins the glass around in circles on the bar. “I like her though, I hope she comes back.”

"Me, too," Buck says. "She's nice. I don't know if I always know what she's talkin' about because she's English an' I guess she's pretty smart, but she seems all right by me."

“Conflict resolution is pretty complicated stuff,” Robin shakes his head, “Half of what she was saying towards the end went over my head. But I still think she’s nice. She’s got a cool accent too,” he adds with a grin.

"Oh, so you just like ev'rybody with an accent, huh?" Buck teases, smiling. "I see how it is."

Robin bites his lip against the grin, which always seems to fail. "I might have a thing for accents… British ones are nice, Russian ones are just weird, but I think southern ones are my favorite. Especially Texas ones."

"Damn right," Buck replies with a grin. ""What kinda accent do /you/ have, Robin?" He's no genius at differentiating New York accents.

Robin lets his accent out full force, which is something he usually doesn’t do. “Can’t you tell I’m from Brooklyn? Sheesh, it’s not like I sound like I’m from Manhattan.” Going back to his now normal speaking voice, he grins. “That was the first thing I learned in acting, controlling the accent. It still comes out if I’m really angry, but that’s rare so… you get me like this.”

"No," Buck says frankly. "I can't understand the difference." He shrugs. "Never seen you really angry. What do you get really angry about?" Buck squints, as if trying to imagine it.

“People hurting my family or people I care about.” is Robin’s quick answer. He tilts his head for a moment then shrugs, “I’m a pretty mellow guy, but I don’t like to see people treated badly for things they can’t control… though that just gets me pissed, not truly angry. What about you? What gets you mad?”

"Uh, that family stuff," Buck agrees, "And, uh…terrorists?" He shrugs. "I don't know, I don't get mad a lot. Even sometimes when I fight somebody I'm not really mad."

Robin smiles, "That's good, I guess. We won't have any screaming arguments over stupid stuff then." He rests one hip against the bar as they talk. "You fight a lot?"

Buck shifts his hat on his head, thinking that over. "I don't know. Sometimes. I just don't mind fightin'. So if somebody needs t' get fought…" Buck shrugs. Apparently he's the one to do it.

“I can see that,” Robin’s tone is mild, and there’s no accusation there. “You’re pretty dangerous when you want to be. Hey, you won’t need to hire a bouncer for this place.”

Buck scratches his jaw. "I'm not that dangerous," he contends lightly. Although Robin has already seen his ankle holster and the .22 that goes with it. But hey, it's only a .22. "I've just always been ready for a fight."

“I’ve always been ready to talk.” Robin admits, “Not that I’d run from a fight, but I like to at least try to see people understanding each other first. Not that it works half the time. People are crazy sometimes.”

"Sometimes people understand ya better when you fight 'em," Buck suggests. "Like, uh…some people think gay guys're different from 'em, right? But after a couple rounds o' fightin', sometimes you forget your diff'rences."

Robin grins at that, “Just sometimes, huh? I think going a couple of rounds with you would make them forget a lot of things.” Glancing around at the thinning crowd, Rob moves closer, kissing Buck’s jaw and whispering. “What do you say we get out of here and let Steve close the place down?”

Buck glances at the crowd, then looks back to Robin, smiling slowly to accompany his nod. "You are one sexy son of a bitch, you know that? An' I bet we made a great haul t'night at th' bar. I think people had a good time."

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