[open/mingle] (505): Thank you for holding my vodka while the police let me ride their horse.

[valr]

Who: Everyone!!
Where: An assortment of bars in Old Town
When: End of week 4
Summary: This is now a mingle log for anyone n Westerley who happens to be getting their drink on in the last couple days of chapter 2. Post a top level! Tag around! Dance on the bar! Newbies who just joined are more than welcome to hop in if your characters were around in chapter 2! Exclamation marks!
Restrictions/Warnings: Alcohol obvs, if anything else goes down please warn in the comments because I can't keep track of everything

Comments

[reburden]

[ Ordinarily, Kim's happy to let sleeping dogs men lie and pretend as though they don't exist. Unfortunately, currently sleeping (??) guy is hogging the only free table in the entire goddamn bar and Kim's got no desire to struggle through the crowds for a second look-see, which means he'll need to take matters into his own hands. (Unfortunately x2, he's only got one free hand right now, the other holding an ice cold beverage.)

He looks left. Looks right. Then carefully juts out one elbow and tries to shove the man off the table. Sorry, my dude, but he'd really like to have a seat. ]

[brokeassgoing]

[WOW HOW FUCKING RUDE no one has manners these days especially when getting their drink on.

That's alright though because Badou won't make this easy either. He rolls just a little and snuffles but that's it.]

[reburden]

[ oh my GOD the nerve

Fine, whatever, he can apply a little more force. No he can't, he's a fucking wet noodle, also for crying out loud, how much did this guy have to eat and drink? Maybe he should try a different tactic. ]

Excuse me. [ Look, so polite!! ] Can you move over?

[brokeassgoing]

[At least his eye opens and eventually focuses on whoever is bothering him]

The hell? Can't you see I'm busy here, damn. Some people are so self-absorbed...

[at least he moves an arm? There's some space]

[reburden]

Busy.

[ He repeats the word, as though he can't quite believe what he's hearing. (He can't.) Somewhere nearby, a glass smashes against the ground. A man yells. He pays it all no mind. ]

You're sleeping. Go do that at home.

[ He doesn't take advantage of the open space just yet. ]

[brokeassgoing]

Bu-sy.

[he'll help you by repeating it again. Upper lip pulled back in a snarl.]

I wasn't sleeping I was dealing with the woes of the day! That's a man's right to a bar, y'know!

[reburden]

[ thx buddy

But funnily enough the elaboration helps. Pretty sound reasoning, and he can empathize a small amount. Finally he takes his seat, though he's careful to still leave some space between and this man so deeply contemplating the trials and tribulations of his day. He could just leave the dude alone to sulk some more, or he could try and offer the guy some sort of listening ear.

After about ten seconds of deliberation, he settles for the latter. ]

That bad?

[brokeassgoing]

[he's more surprised he didn't tip the table over and go about his own evening let alone the fact that he just. sat down and asked.

So Badou blinks at him, then harrumphs.]

That bad. Someone's been in my place. Didn't see em, don't remember it. I got the heebie jeebies. Don't even start me on what this motherfucker left there.

[reburden]

[ He has!! Decorum!! Also sad excuses for biceps, even with Qrow's generous "training". He'll flip tables another day, just you wait.

For now, he puzzles over this information, gives it a good whirl. Eventually, he still comes up blank. ]

Don't people usually take things instead of leave things when they break in?

[ Or does this guy have some secret admirer/stalker leaving him love notes... ]

[brokeassgoing]

[huh doubtful to every single part of this

badou bangs a fist atop the table]

RIGHT?! ITS NOT LIKE I GOT SILVER FORKS TO SELL OR ANYTHING FANCY!! THEY LEFT IT IN MY TOILET TO START! A MAN'S THRONE.

[reburden]

[ (ง'̀-'́)ง

But—oh. He recoils away, as though Badou might have some of this "gift" smeared all over him somewhere. ]

That's— [ Unfortunate. Disgusting. TMI. ] Did you flush it?

[ Perhaps it's a jarring conclusion to make but PERSONAL HYGIENE IS IMPORTANT. ]

[brokeassgoing]

[his scowl only deepens as he finally wipes the back of his hand over his mouth-- not self-consciously! HE HAS NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF!! just. in case.]

My shitter would no longer work if that was the case. I got rid of it though.

[reburden]

[ There is clearly some miscommunication going on here because at the offhand comment, all Kim can wonder aghast is: how big was that shit? (Also: how the hell did he get rid of it?) ]

Did you—bury it?

[ Where else would it go??? ]

[brokeassgoing]

[when he looks at Kim his expression is grave, as grave as gravedirt. He steeples his fingers.]

It's gone to a good home. I might not be alive for much longer...

[reburden]

[ ......................

Truly, this entire conversation has taken a turn for the alarming. (And also confusing: who regifts excrement left by another person?) Kim sobers, lured in by the gravity of Badou's expression. ]

Is it disease?

[ Maybe he can offer his sympathies if so.... ]

[brokeassgoing]

[he practically growls:]

I DIDN'T GET THE CLAP OR ANYTHING! JESUS, YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BREAK BALLS DONTCHA? I sent it back to who I think did it but if he didn't he'll kill me.

[reburden]

[ LOOK, WHAT ELSE WAS HE SUPPOSED TO THINK.

But also: he'd probably kill anyone who tried to send him poop, this is a fair assessment to make. A moment of silence then for their soon-to-be-dearly-departed friend, Badou Nails. Kim tips his drink towards Badou. ]

You should get a few more drinks then.

[ Godspeed, comrade. ]

[brokeassgoing]

[When Badou looks up at him that glare has morphed into what can only be called the puppy dog eye...s. His lower lip wobbles]

You buying? For old times sake and all that...to send me off to Valhalla....