Drinks

[nothinglikefather]

WHO: Jacob and Len
WHEN: End of March
WHERE: The Bar
WHAT: Jacob is not a relationship counsellor
WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol, Len's relationship woes etc

Jacob doesn't like Tequila. But it's the only thing that the bar serves, and its got alcohol in it. So it will do for the moment, until he can get brewing beer. That's the next challenge, aside from trying to get to the City on the horizon.

He sips the cocktail, leaning back and watching the rest of the room, thinking about the place. They're trapped here, in what is basically a tumble-down prison, with little way out. They don't even know where they are, or if getting out would achieve anything. Everything is unknown.

It's pretty exciting, if you don't mind being in enclosed spaces with no control over your own destiny and no trust in the vast majority of the other people trapped with you.

Jesus.

But as if by magic, his eyes land on Cold. A man who he doesn't know well, but knows well enough to know he doesn't trust him. And that's fine, when you're used to dealing with criminals.

"Hey, Chilly." He greets, gesturing for another couple of drinks from the robot barman, and moving to settle down next to the silver-haired thief. "Surprised to see you all in one piece. Made up with the hot-head?"

Comments

[hypothermic]

Len sits with his back to the room, one long leg crossed over the other. Chin in gloved hand. Thinking. Brooding. Drinking, mostly, though he'll cut himself off before he gets anywhere close to drunk. Len may be a thief, murderer, and all-around scoundrel, but one thing he isn't is an alcoholic.

He's mean enough sober.

"I'm surprised you haven't been eaten yet. Veal is in short supply." Anchor's kitchen isn't that low on stock, but there's something to be said for fresh meat.

Len rolls his eyes, while simultaneously making room for Jacob. The kid proved himself in the laboratory-turned-aquarium. Len's thought about him once or twice since, usually in relation to Chronos, and the very real possibility he could be gunning for the kid, but gut instinct told him the kid would hold his own.

That's more than he can say for himself.

Len drains the last syrupy sip of his Tequila Sunrise, and throws the glass back over his shoulder when he's finished. What are the bots going to do, arrest him?

"We're a little past making up, if you haven't noticed. He won't be happy until I'm dead, and I won't be happy until he pulls his head out of his ass-- so no, not until hell freezes over."

Len would need more than his gun to do that. Would he try anyway, given a shot?

Probably.

[nothinglikefather]

Jacob makes a soft noise, a huff of annoyance at the veal comment. When will people stop telling him he's a child? When he's thirty? He might not live that long. Assassins don't normally see old age, and while there's no Templars here, there's plenty of other things that could kill him. Plenty of people too, for that matter.

"Something told me you two had history." Jacob says, recalling the fight. Going down into the flooded forgotten rooms had been adventure enough, but there's nothing like a fight for your life to make things interesting.

He takes another swallow of the drink, eyes moving over the other man. He doesn't believe it. He watched the two of them. Chronos made a good attempt at killing Cold, no doubt about it, but he stopped short at the crucial moment. Cold held back too, wouldn't let Jacob finish the job. As if something held them both back.

Jacob shakes his head just to dislodge that thought. It's not really his business and ninety nine times out of a hundred he doesn't care one whit about anyone else's terrible past.

But... well. He'd put money on the fact that neither of these two is ever going to kill the other. They talk a good talk, go through all the motions but he'd seen it first hand. Neither of them really had the bottle to carry it out.

"I doubt it. You both hold back, saw it myself. If you meant to do it, you would have done it by now."