realityshifted | (no subject)

Entry tags:

life on mars (d1) gene hunt

(no subject)

[today, Plane-goers, is a special day! for you see, today we have sighted the elusive 'Guv' in his natural habitat: the pub. or as natural as a pub comes on the Plane, meaning he's at the Astral Bar. because really, when isn't he. but today is different, because the Guv isn't drinking, though he sourly wishes he were. no, today, this terrifying animal has in front of him actual, honest-to-god paperwork

you see, Plane-goers, on occasion, the Guv will stop being boorish and actually look at casework. the reasons behind this unusual behaviour differ, but for today, that reason is nightmares, and what better way to soothe a distraught mind than with pointless, nancy paperwork?

yeah, that's what the Guv thinks, too]

Bloody hell.

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[a narrowing of her eyes, a tense of her shoulders - and then, simply, a raise of her eyebrows]

Never been called cheap wine before. [she'll just roll up into your business now]

[but she's a cripple D:]

You have now, girlie.

[tough shit gene :|]

I'll have to mark it on the calendar.

[reaches out - very quickly - to steal a paper]

[:|]

While you're at it, how about you get me a bourbon and make yourself useful, or did that go away with your legs?

[oi! give that back!]

[:p]

What, my drink-making skills? No. Yours go away with your manners?

[grabs the bar with her free hand and pushes herself out of reach, studying the papers she liberated]

Hmm. Not the format we use. [her eyes go distant, for a moment] Manchester, seventies?

I'll have you know, I make a fine bartender. But when I'm busy, the plod who comes 'round and disturbs me gets to serve me a round.

[and okay, that was odd, and he glowers]

What of it?

Please. It's not like there's time to waste here.

[glances up with a sly grin] Just curious. I'm right, then? Usually am.

That's not the bloody point.

Lucky guess.

Well, no, the point is you being an ass.

[shakes her head] I don't guess.

You got a problem with me, you can wheel out of here, you tart.

I haven't made it a secret where I'm from, either, luv.

Maybe. But I've only just met you, and I don't know every accent. Working on it, though.

Where is the bourbon, anyway?

Of course you are, luv.

[waves toward where it is, not really paying attention]

[absently, as she grabs two glasses] Did hear enough, when I was a senator.

Senator? You? [pffft]

One term. [sets one glass aside as she starts to fill the other] Travelled the world. [wry glance] It was easier then.

So what happened?

[for a moment, she doesn't speak, just concentrating on the pouring liquid; then, casually] I opened my door and got shot in the spine.

[that's not a way to go, really. not a way to have to give up everything and Gene just grunts in acknowledgment] Bastard get what was comin' to him?

For a while. [switches to the other glass] He has a nasty habit of escaping.

[another glance, a wry smirk] Which I knew, of course, all the times I put him away already.

Bloke like that, he doesn't deserve second chances. He shouldn't have the opportunity to get out at all.

[finishes pouring, and slides him his drink with a hard, worn smile] Not the way we do things, generally. [but she doesn't say she disagrees]

Don't make a habit of offing the bastards, myself. [takes the drink with a nod] Doesn't mean a few of 'em don't deserve it.

[quietly, as she stares at her drink] I really do wish they'd done it. Wouldn't help me, but Jason...

[he's just ... gonna keep listening, sine he hates when people trail off]

[her fingers drum against the bar for a moment, before she speaks again, her voice low and dark] He was seventeen years old. The Joker beat him half to death with a crowbar, and then blew up the warehouse he was in.