Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Trixie's Bar (Everyone welcome)

Insert M1917, with her rifle in hand...sort of, because it was disassembled for cleaning, and a cigarette in her mouth, because, why wouldn't you smoke and clean?

Townley grabbed the cold can of cola and his briefcase then sat at a table near the fireplace. The mere thought of being cold brought shivers down his spine. He opened his briefcase and pulled out some paperwork to work on.

Soon, she finishes her rifle cleaning, and then reassembled her rifle, storing it away in some pocket dimension—She's not breaking the rules, after all?

Kyle bought Enfield a drink.

He stepped into the bar. This time he was without his son. He looked insanely annoyed. He sat at the bar.

After a while, Townley looked around the bar and popped his knuckles. Each one made a satisfying cracking sound. He then readjusted his tie and pushed up his reading glasses before returning back to paperwork.

Linda set down a drink for Dr. Townley to enjoy. "Here, I bought you a drink. Hardworking men like you deserve one." She smiled warmly.

Townley looked up at the blonde woman who brought him a drink. "Thank you." He take a long gulp of the gifted drink then finished up with his last page. The scientist then signed his signature at the bottom.

He would order a scotch on ice and rubbed his temples after removing his glasses and setting them on the bar. He let out a sigh.

Claude slid the glass of scotch on ice to Todd. Normally she wouldn't ask anyone how they are doing, but being a bartender is her current job. Talking to folks happens to be a bartender's duty. "Anything wrong, Sugah?"

"Trying to stay on my good side, or strike up a conversation or something?"

"Neither." Kyle smirked, "I saw you cleaning your rifle. I respect gun nuts. Figured I'd buy you a drink."

"I lost a patient today. Little saucer-eyed ten-year-old girl." He said with a trembling sigh. "I can't stop thinking about it, and it made me think of my son..."

"It needed to be cleaned, it hasn't been ever since I got back from the Somne. Erm...I think anyway. Maybe it was a different time."

Claude simply frowned and was looking for something to say to the doctor that didn't sound nihilistic. "I'm sure ya did everything you could to save the girl," she said.

"I always do, but it never gets easier"

Onyx bolted upright and yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes, he made his way to the bar and tiredly tapped the bell

"Someone did say that God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers," Claude replied. A old lieutenant in her navy days used to say it as motivation. The sound of a bell always got under her skin for no reason. So when she heard someone tapped the bell, Claude took it and flung across the bar. Her true eye for a brief moment appeared draconic. She swiftly regained her composure and smiled. "Sorry about that. I ain't fond of bells," she apologized.

"I understand that. I'm a practicing Catholic, but I was still just an airman..."

"You were in the Airforce?" Claude said with a grin.