ic Better Red than Dead (IC)

[BlazingCoconut]

November 7th, Morleys Pub, West End.

 

The snow fell across Freedom City like a smothering blanket in a surprise Nor'easter which hammered the proud city with over 24 inches of snow in less than six hours.  Across the city, old timers were reminiscing about the Megalopolitan Blizzard of 83 and telling anyone who would listen that this paltry bit of snow hardly counted.  Emergency services were out in force and with the help of many of the cities more civil minded heroes, had most of the essential services running to most of the city.  The gusting winds and blistering cold at least had the tendency to keep most of the citizens indoors and those few who ventured out, seemed to find solace and company in the many cozy pubs and taverns which mostly managed to stay open.

 

Morley's pub, home to many of the cities finest, was one such place.  Offering warmth and spirits even as the storm raged just outside the wood paneled walls.  The crowd was sparse, but lively, with most of them relishing the chance to have a day off their normal schedules.  Sean Morley wiped clean a few glasses before walking over to the fireplace to drop another log into the glowing warmth.  While it didn't really put out a ton of heat, it just made the place seem more comforting and on a day like today, that's what people were looking for.

[EviscerusNox]

Max watched Sean put the log on the fire while he tasted his scotch.  Max didn't particularly care for the cold, it made him feel sluggish and out of his element.  He looked at the small fire as a compatriot, another combatant against the forces of unbearable chilliness in winter's endless war on the warm blooded.  Seeing that even with the log the fire might die Max walked over to the fireplace and breathed a small gout of flame onto the logs, causing the fire to roar to life for a moment before settling into a normal state, all the logs in it being thoroughly covered in flames.

 

"There that's more like it eh?"  Max said to the room before walking back to his bar stool and calling for a refill.

 

"I tell ya Moira, this snow is gonna be the death of me.  You know how hard it is to light things on fire when they are perpetually wet?  And how long it takes to breath fire over 2 feet of snow before what's underneath catches on fire?  It's a good thing I got the lungs of an astronaut.  You probably don't even feel it do ya darlin'?  Just rolls right off that Olympian physiology eh?"

[Moira Morley]

Moira enjoyed snow weather. If she didn't have responsibilities nowadays, she would be waist deep in it. Building a snowman, swimming around (she was strong enough to do that!), and other fun activities. Right now she was being daddy's little waitress. She didn't technically have to work here being a part owner of the place, but she enjoyed her time with the customers, new and old. The tales were the best part of it. Tall or not, they always brought a little more creativity into the next one.

 

She tended to Maxie's drinks personally. "Oh sure, just stick me out there and i'll yell you where the wind is blowing if I could see it." She put this bottle on Maxie's tab and kept the scotch rolling as he asked for it. He was a friend, but business was business. "I think i'll be sitting with you after things die down," she whispered in his ear as he drank, "save me some."

 

More workers, dedicated to the pub and their job, started showing up, so Moira could slack off a bit. "Hey dad," she asked. Sean looked at her, wordlessly answering. "Got plans for tonight?"  He nodded, "us faithful were going to get together and count up for the food drive, but now, if they come they come." They both looked over to the woman walking in the door. Stacey was a childhood friend of Moira's. Moira looked to Sean with a facetious smile, "the flock always comes, huh?" Stacey and Sean had been working close with each other. Moira wasn't fooled.

Edited December 4, 2017 by Moira Morley

[Heritage]

The front door swung open, and in from the cold and snow stomped a small woman hefting a very large cardboard box. It looked like Lynn Epstein had a few more donations for the food bank.

 

"Hey! Uh, can I get a little help with this? I may have gotten...a little overzealous with the giving."

 

Once she was in unencumbered, she made her way over towards her two friends, beaming with a face red from the cold.

 

(Technically, this was a shapeshifter special effect, as the tiny changeling didn't get cold.)

 

"Hi guys! Man, it is colder than a witch's...well, something out there! At least I think it is. Lots of scarves and such." 

 

She gave them both quick hugs and kisses on the cheek before taking off her coat and grabbing a seat.

 

"So, what's goin' on? What's the haps?" 

[EviscerusNox]

Max grinned wolfishly at Moira and shook his head "No guarantees, this is pretty good scotch."

 

3 minutes ago, Heritage said:

 

She gave them both quick hugs and kisses on the cheek before taking off her coat and grabbing a seat.

 

"So, what's goin' on? What's the haps?" 

 

 

Max hugged Lynn warmly and went back to his drink for a second before nearly choking on it.

 

"Jeez Lynn, 'what's the haps?'  How long were the 90's for you?"  Max nudged her playfully.  "Not a lot for me sadly, been a slow month so far.  Not a lot of people get tattoos during this time of year, everyone using and saving their money on gifts for others and not body art.  It's ok though I enjoy the downtime.  What about you?  How's Gretchen?"

[BlazingCoconut]

The door to the pub opened and seemed to hang there for a long moment while the snow and winds pushed their way into the warm space like daggers.  The man walking in, seemed to move slow his ponderous gait was like a glacier itself slowly moving over the polished wood floors.  He wore a heavy overcoat and a fur ushanka on his head, all of which seemed impervious to the snow that futilely clung too it.  Thick leather boots clung precariously to legs that looked more like barrels than anything that would be used to move a man.  Hints of silver hair and stubble peeked out around the fur lining on the hat, which seemed to corroborate the weathered lines that carved a feeling of timelessness to his countenance.  When he finally managed to get across the threshold the door reluctantly closed behind him as he seemed to fill all of the available space in the entry.  Slowly his thick neck swiveled around the pub and apparently satisfied with what he had seen, walked up to the bar and managed to sit on one of the stools, a seeming mountain at the bar.

 

"Is good weather, no?" he said to Sean when the owner came over to ask what he wanted to drink, "but, there is nothing in this weather that is good for drinking other than Vodka.  I would have one.  No.  Make it two.  Is too much like Siberia for just drinking of one."  Hands that looked like they could crush rocks pulled a few crumpled bills from inside his coat and he slapped them down on the counter with a meaty thud.

Edited December 5, 2017 by BlazingCoconut

[Heritage]

Lynn shook her head as she signaled for the waitstaff. "Hey, dude! The 90s, was like, the coolest decade ever." She began to count off points on her fingers. '"Disney animation renaissance which gives Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Lion King and Aladdin. Nickelodeon. Titanic. Backstreet Boys. Brittany Spears. Christina Aguilera. Buffy. Dawson's Creek. The Simpsons. Seinfeld. Frickin' Friends!" She drove her hand into her fist like a lawyer laying out her case. "The list goes on and on, my friend! On and on!"

 

Once someone came around to take her drink order, the changeling requested a toasty Irish coffee, because it seemed like the perfect thing to hold in front of a fire. "Mmm, I love this time of year! So what holiday plans do you guys have?"

 

However the conversation was soon forgotten once 'Kristof' came in out of the cold; Lynn found herself fascinated by him, and wonder what brought such a person into Moira's pub this night.

Edited December 6, 2017 by Heritage

[Moira Morley]

Moira left Sean to talk to Casey and went to help Lynn with the heavy stuff. "Hey thanks," she said before picking up the load and quickly running it back to where the stuff was to be put. Moira enjoyed the giving spirit. The heroic part of her that always wanted to help those in worse conditions than herself. Whether it be saving people from danger or giving them food and clothes. It never hurt to help. She spent some time organizing a bit before rushing back out.

 

Technically not off the clock yet, she went to Sean just for a moment. "I'm going on that break you said I should go on a few hours ago, boss," she whispered to him, pointing out the employees who were waiting in the wings. He nodded and Moira hugged her father from Earth. She went over to the table where Maxie and Lynn were sitting, after getting a couple of glasses. She sat one in front of Lynn and one for herself, "don't worry, I'll get these for you, Max."

 

Moira watched the big Russian guy walk in. It was almost cartoonish. But she lived in a city where cartoons could come to life, so it was no skin off her back. She looked to Max and tapped the glass, "skål!" She had no idea that meant, but it was a drinking word in good spirits.

[EviscerusNox]

Max returned the toast with a wide grin before taking another sip of his scotch.  This was the life as far as he was concerned, enjoying drinks with a few ladies who happen to be the most badass women he'd ever met, and two of his best friends who he knew would have his back come hell or alternate nightmare dimension.  Max squeezed Moira's hand and gave her a warm smile that he hoped conveyed how much he appreciated her friendship.

 

Max turned to the fur laden man and smiled.  "I'd have to disagree with ya there friend.  Vodka is great and all but the best for a wintery day is a scotch so peaty it tastes like yer drinkin' a campfire.  That or a good hot Gin Toddy.  Name's Max.  And I hope I don't offend when I say you don't sound like yer from 'round these parts.  What brings ya to good ole FC today?  Other than of course the famous hospitality of Morley's."

[BlazingCoconut]

As the vodka slid over to the Russian, he gave a lopsided grin to Max, "vashee zdaróvye"* and then paused.  "Is meaning to health.  Sounds better in Russian, English words don't have any soul to them.  Will be disagreeing on drinking, but is fine.  Many places for disagreeing and bar is good one, no?"  With a satisfied sigh he set down the empty glass and picked up the other contemplating it.

 

"Knew a Max once.  Was good man.  Am being called Dmitri and am not from this place.  But... like good peoples in bar.  Here for drinks and stories.  Is what snow is for, no?  To drive inside seeking fires and spirits, stories and songs."

 

He took off the ponderous, battered, overcoat and his simple clothes revealed a man who had likely once been quite a physical specimen but declines from the relentless pace of aging.  He still had bulk, but it wasn't the lean carved physique of a body builder and his belly had seen at least a few too many good meals.  Still there was a gravitas around him that seemed to scream solid, salt of the earth; a force of nature like a glacier.  Folding the coat, he set it on the stool next to him, downed the second vodka and turned to better face Max and the rest of the patrons.

 

[Moira Morley]

Stories, yeah? Dmitri knew not who he sat with. The three of them alone probably had more tales of daring due that could fill up pages in a story book. Or blog if you want to get modern. "Well, you've come to the right place and city if you want to hear stories. Folks around here deal with heroics every day. I remember one time we had fish people." She did not. That invasion happened and ended just before she came back. Though her friends had several different tales. "Welcome, Dmitri," she raised her glass.

 

She leaned over to Lynn and rested her head on the fae woman's shoulder, looking up at her, but still talking to Dimitri, "speaking of stories, I gotta tell you about the time when we were sucked into an alternate dimension." Moira laughed like it was some kind of joke. It happened, yeah, but it felt like it never ended. That and Maxie and Lynn were the secretive of identities type.

Edited December 6, 2017 by Moira Morley

[BlazingCoconut]

Dmitri laughed and the voice of a people laughed with him.  They could practically hear the wind whipping over the grain swept steppes of the Russian interior as he set the second glass down on the counter.  "As sure this is good tale.  But is not best stories things that people can understanding.  Am not sure what is dimensions and things but knowing fishes is for eating, no?" 

 

He stretched, a slow and languid movement which just accentuated how much hair this man seemed to have all over himself, with arms that had corded muscle from what looked like years of work.  "Sorry, is being old man.  Things people is talking about are for young ears."

[Heritage]

This was all very intriguing; this Russian fellow appeared to be a long way from home,  and Lynn couldn't help what brought him all the way to this little pub in Freedom. Raising her mug in greeting, she offered a traditional Russian toast she'd heard was used back in the Old Country; her Russian was flawless, with no trace of an American accent, though she sounded like she might be from near Kiev.

 

<"May we always have a reason to rejoice!">

 

After she had her swig, she rested her head on top of Moira's and indicated the Russian with a nod. "Surely you must have tales to tell, friend Dmitri; what brings you to Freedom?"

[BlazingCoconut]

"Ha!  Is not friends.  Is comrades.  Better than being friends," he replied and seemed to be looking around for his Vodka, an amusing combination of humorous forgetfulness mixed with a ponderous lethal looking movement as he patted himself and turned in his seat to finally spy his two empty glasses.  The sigh that came from his lips sounded like it could have filled a hot air balloon as a thick index finger tapped on the now empty glass.

 

"Why is here?" that question seemed to take some thought, "well... is for drinking, no?  Or is meaning in city?" he asked looking at the three.

 

Without waiting for an answer, he replied to his own question, "Is lost and wandering until found.  Simple no?"

[EviscerusNox]

18 minutes ago, BlazingCoconut said:

 

"Why is here?" that question seemed to take some thought, "well... is for drinking, no?  Or is meaning in city?" he asked looking at the three.

 

Without waiting for an answer, he replied to his own question, "Is lost and wandering until found.  Simple no?"

 

Max could understand that.  For most of his life Max had been a travelling carnie, roaming the country in search of meaning and a fun time.  There was a freedom to not knowing what the next day would bring, the road being your home.  Journey over destination.  He had tried to make Freedom City a home years back, it didn't take the first time but now he had reasons to stay.  He had friends here who were more like family, and he felt more comfortable with himself and his place in the world, as a person and as a hero.  He'd faced his demons but that didn't mean that the wanderlust didn't hit him occasionally and he had to fight off the urge to jump on his motorcycle and race the sun to the horizon.

 

"Totally get it, Dmitri.  Not all who wander are lost eh?"  Max nodded to Dmitri's empty glasses.  "Need a reload?  It's on me from one vagabond to another."

[BlazingCoconut]

"Da!  This is good comrades!  Knowing what empty glass with no Vodka is meaning!" he said with a jovial chuckle which sounded like boulders rolling down a hill.

 

He waited, looking around the bar curiously as his drink was refilled.  "But no, is lost.  This is a thing for long time.  Is no matter, will not be finding home soon and this place is not so bad.  Is shame is no celebration of great holidays."

Edited December 6, 2017 by BlazingCoconut

[EviscerusNox]

Max's brow furled in actual confusion.

 

"What, you mean yer actually lost?  Not metaphorically?  Huh, that's a new one.  I'm not the best with directions but you tell me where yer headed and I can maybe point the way.  Though Lynn here has been here way longer than me so she'd definitely be able to tell you how to get wherever yer goin'.  Ain't that right Lynn?"  Max winked at Lynn and sipped his scotch.

[BlazingCoconut]

"Da.  Is lost.  Well, being somewhat lost.  This is a thing," the large Russian nodded.

 

"This place.  There are things to be liking in City.  Things not to be liking.  But is biggest crime is not being Russian!  This is where being lost," Dmitri said downing another vodka.  Can remembering very different city with little girl who is having hair like fields of wheat.  Is so perfect.  Shame is not to seeing any more.  Not sure is how old any more."

 

He sighed, his large shoulder sagging as he did.  "Even vodka is not as good.  Some things only Russian's is knowing how to doing right."

[Heritage]

"I can certainly try," offered Lynn in response to Max's suggestion. She rubbed her jaw thoughfully; this might be easier without the language barrier. She switched back to Russian; she knew many English speakers considered it to be an ugly language, as they often did with German, but she found great beauty in both of them. Of course, it helped when the speaker was as lovely as an angel! 

 

<"You seem confused, comrade, as though you're not sure how you got here. Are there gaps in your memory? What's the last thing you remember about home, and the first thing you can recall about coming here?">

 

There was something slightly off about all this; there was more to his being lost than just being in a strange city. Perhaps he was a stranded time traveller?