Hallway of Broken Dreams

[not_gaheris]

 Rhade was confused to say the least. Maybe it was all the alcohol. His memory of events was a bit blurry. He remembered hauling ungrateful evacuees into the Maru. That was fun. Who tries to cut in line during an evacuation? It was simply stupidly suicidal. That's why you're not supposed to run en mass during a fire. Panic was bad. Combine panic with inbred, stupid crazy people and it was a shit storm waiting to happen. But that was why he was there. That and to protect Beka, even against her wishes if necessary.  But, no matter. That he remembered. He even remembered going into the bar on Seefra 1 and helping himself to a bottle or two. Or three. Harper had tried to talk him out of it. It was the thought that counts, misguided as it was. 

What did Harper know about loss? About a loss so deep that it would shatter a Nietzschean's soul. The loss of his wife, his children. Probably his pride, the Commonwealth. They were all dead. Weren't they? He didn't know for sure, but what other result could there be. The World Ship was coming. He'd been on Seefra for 9 months. The Known Worlds were gone. Everything he loved and fought for was gone. Everything except the liquor and this hell hole of a system. No, not a system. The universes largest fly trap. You can come in, but never come out again. 

What he definitely remembered was Harper trying to hit him with a bar stool. Then things went fuzzy and Harper really was hitting him with a bar stool. Telemachus remembered being on Andromeda, Rommie mentioning casually that his blood alcohol level was, well, rather high. And then? What he didn't remember was how he got here. 

In this bar. With air conditioning and good food and ice. Lots of drinks with lots of ice. It was clean too. Unlike him. 

"You know what?" Rhade looked around. "It doesn't even matter anymore." Seefra? This place? He wasn't home. It didn't matter where he was anymore. He was lost, and all that was left was to bury the broken pieces of his soul. 

"Whatever. Someone get me a drink." 

Comments

[just_be_quiet]

Andrew was having a bad day. He had gotten into an argument with the computer. He had accidentally snapped his shoe lace. He had bonked his head on a table at least once on top of all of that. Now there is a man who feels very bad.

Andrew takes a loud sip of his root beer float. He tilts his head up to get a good look at Rhade. This does not help the man at all. Instead Andrew just frowns at him even more.

"I think that's a very bad idea, Mister. You should just sit down before you hurt yourself." That may not have been the wisest thing to say but Andrew could care less.

[not_gaheris]

"Very good idea kid. I'm going to sit down, and get myself another drink. And I never hurt myself. Nietzscheans are self absorbed, not masochistic. Hurting yourself is contrary to survival. Don't they teach you anything in school anymore? And didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk to strangers? Especially angry strangers with bone blades?"

Telemachus shook his head and ordered a drink from what he hoped was a passing waiter.

[just_be_quiet]

"I don't..." Andrew trails off and manages to scowl even more at Rhade. Wow this guy is a jerk AND is very dumb. That is a really horrible combination. The kind of combination that makes Andrew feel super prickly.

"You can still hurt yourself by repeating the same actions over and over again. And drinking in the amount you want isn't actually healthy," the boy points out in an irritable tone. "I'm not really sure what masochistic means or what a Nietzsc--" He struggles a bit with the word." What a Nietzschean is but you're obviously not very good at being one."

Oh boy. He is going to get into so much trouble.

[not_gaheris]

"Yeah, I'm not being a very good Nietzschean at the moment. Don't follow my example, kid. At least, not right now. But we have a pretty good tolerance for alcohol. This wont hurt me that much. " Arsenic couldn't hurt him, alcohol could try its worst.

"Now what's your name? And where are your parents, they're probably worried about you and concerned you're talking to drunken Nietzscheans. Really, your survival skills are either top notch or need a lot of work. I'm sure they have some books by Nietzsche in the computers database, although I'm not sure they have Nietzsche for kids."

[just_be_quiet]

"Still," Andrew gives him a concerned once over. The boy is very serious about his honest concern for the adult. "I can't see anyone thinking this is a good idea for you, sir."

The boy straightens up a bit. Something about his expression reads as angry when his parents are brought up. "Andrew. I don't really have parents."

His Dad is a Grade-A jerk face, mister. "Besides. Don't you know we've all been kidnapped?"

[waco_jim]

Jim continues to occupy what he already thinks of as his usual spot.

His ears perk up when he hears a familiar sound. Now where had he heard those words before?

Oh, right. From his own mouth, every day for the last decade or so.

He smiles slightly and raises his glass in toast to the man.

[not_gaheris]

"Great. A drinking partner. Just what I always wanted." Telemachus answered snidely. He caught the eye of a waiter who thankfully wasn't Seamus Harper and asked for a drink. Something alcoholic. What did it say about him that he was totally find with being abducted, didn't care where he was or why, and that all he really wanted was a drink? Probably nothing good.

[waco_jim]

"Ain't the worst thing in the world you can find," Jim says.

"Especially if they don't talk much."

[not_gaheris]

"As long as they dont steal your booze. Telemachus Rhade." The Nietzschean didn't bother giving his full lineage since, obviously this man was human. "So who are you? And why are you bothering me?"

[waco_jim]

"The Waco Kid," Jim says.

He takes a long swill.

"Just professional courtesy, I guess. Acknowledging a fellow traveler to the Land of Milk and Honey."

[not_gaheris]

"And yet you look like an adult to me. That's actually your name? The Waco Kid? Were your parents insane?" That was the only solution that came to mind for Rhade. No one would in their right mind name someone that.


"And I'm from the land of shit swill and boredom, with a dash of smashed hopes and dreams."

[waco_jim]

"A lot of folks think so," he says. "But I got my name a long time ago. You can call me Jim if you like."

He raises his glass and gives a three swallow salute.

"I've been. Hell, a lot of folks come from over there. And we're all headed to the same place. That place being the bottom of the nearest glass."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Are you all right, sugar?"

The soft Southern lilt belongs to the cowgirl hovering close by, blonde hair pulled over one shoulder in a complicated braid. She's peering at Rhade with a furrowed brow, concern shining in her blue eyes.

She's not gonna look like anything he knows, a Colt SAA resting at her hip, cowboy boots on her feet. She knows the life of hard drinking, though, and maybe that's why she's asking.

[not_gaheris]

"Oh yeah. I'm just great. That's why I asked for a drink. Now, you going to get it for me or are you the eye candy?"

Too bad for Kate Rhade was rather drunk and not exactly feeling like himself. Otherwise he probably would have kissed her hand. It started as a nine month journey to forget himself, and when Dylan arrived, he had made a couple attempts to quit drinking. None of them really stuck.

"That's an antique you have on your hip. Does it even still work?"

[ikissdhimbck]

Oddly enough, the word 'antique' causes rise to more indignation than any of his slurred flirtation.

"I ain't a workin' girl or a waitress. An' I assure you, my Colt works jus' fine."

There's a spark in her eyes, cold and bright, like the flash of gunmetal. She may have a sweet face, and where she's from she's known for her beauty, but it comes with the viper-sharp threat of danger.

"I'd recommend y'don't ask for a demonstration."

The way she talks, it could just as easily be flirting as it could be a warning. Talking sweet to a fella is the quickest way to take him off-guard, and when you're a petite five-foot-one you take any upper hand you're given.

[not_gaheris]

"Pity." Of course with the outfit Telemachus was wearing, Harper had made more than a few comments as to his profession, so he probably wasn't one to talk. And he wasn't going to deny he was a survivor, and had been seen with...well, quite a lot of pretty young ladies on Seefra.

"You should look into upgrading it." If it was one thing Nietzscheans liked, it was women with spark. And good genes.

[ikissdhimbck]

Her red lips pull into a diamond-edged smirk.

"It could do you a trick, sugar. You've got my word on that."

The gun rarely misses, 'upgraded' as it were by an actual forge god. It ain't exactly endowed with holy spirit, but it'll get the job done almost one-hundred percent of the time. Who needs fancy lasers and flashing lights when you've got good ol' fashioned gunpowder and steel?

"An' I reckon I can see straight enough t'shoot without any trouble. Not sure you could say the same."

Penny for your thoughts, mister?