[Action]

[goldenglasses]

[Vash is feeling a bit down. One friend got hurt and a couple others were mallynapped and he wasn’t able to do anything about either. Not to mention apparently there are quite a number of crazy people running around that he doesn’t have a clue what to do about. So what is a man from a world of cowboys to do? Go to the bar of course. Vash can be found at the bar with a glass of whiskey; he doesn’t look particularly pleased but is always open for conversation.]

Comments

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

[this is his first time entering the bar, and he's only here for one reason, too. That's why he sneaked right back out of the house after making sure Nami-san was comfortable. He needs a good hour to himself and a glass.

The somewhat familiar mop of hair pings him memory, though, so he approaches Vash from behind and taps him on the shoulder.]

Mind if I join you? [for the record, he totally doesn't blame you if you refuse]

[goldenglasses]

[You're lucky Vash is quick to forgive! Vash turns and gives you a somewhat forced smile. He honestly wants to smile but right now it’s hard!] As long as you don’t stomp on my head.

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

[chuckles a little, but it's just as forced as Vash's smile. He takes a seat]

Heh, sorry about that. Bad habit and all.

[goldenglasses]

[He’ll give his head a small shake] It’s alright; [weak laugh] I’m sure it didn’t look good coming in on that.

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

It didn't; your hair was blocking Chopper. [so it's totally your fault]

How the hell do you get all that shit to stand up like that?

[goldenglasses]

Hair gel. [Vash is not one of those weird people who have gravity defying hair. He actually has to work on his.]

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

You actually like looking like the bottom of a broom? [fashion sense, my friend. you have none]

1/2

[goldenglasses]

I don't look THAT much like a broom.

[goldenglasses]

But I've always thought it suited me! And... [Small smile] someone very close to me liked it this way.

1/2

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

[ah, well, if it has sentimental value, Sanji won't poke too much fun at it] Fair enough, Broom Head.

[calls the bartender over so he can get himself a shot of whatever - he tells the guy to surprise him - and is handed a rather interesting-looking concoction that only gets a short glance before Sanji downs it all in one gulp.]

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

[and hacks up a lung. whoops]

[goldenglasses]

[Laughs] You know - a friend once told me that I shouldn't drink stuff I have no tolerance for! It’s an insult to the booze!

[oda-hates-me.livejournal.com]

ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY I DON'T HAVE ANY TOLERANCE, BROOM HEAD?

[goldenglasses]

I dunno! Do you?

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

[Awhile after Vash has ordered his drink, a man in a leather bomber jacket steps into the bar, guitar in his hand. He'll go sit near the bar, and quietly begin to play.]

[Action]

[goldenglasses]

[He'll listen quietly as he plays. Enjoying the music. When the song ends he'll turn towards the player.] You're quite good.

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

Thank you. It's good to know it doesn't bother people.

[He'll get up and walk over to the bar and order a whiskey himself, then take a seat near Vash.]

[Action]

[goldenglasses]

[At least you weren't playing the saxophone or he might have freaked out.] Music - good music - is never a bother. I'm Vash.

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

Yellow 13. Nice to meet you.

[Action]

[goldenglasses]

That's... an interesting name.

Nice to meet you too.

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

[Thirteen snorts a chuckle.]

It's not my real name. But it's what I prefer to go by.

[Action]

[goldenglasses]

Ah, I see. What brings you to the bar tonight? Just thought people would enjoy some music?

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

In part. ...The other is that this place is relaxing.

[Action]

[goldenglasses]

Yeah. I guess it is.

The bars back home could get pretty rowdy though.

[Action]

[yellowthirteen.livejournal.com]

Most of the ones back home were generally fine. Until a soldier would have too much.

[A smile tugs at Thirteen's lips.]

Well, the place I frequented was pretty much... ours. So it was always nice.