RP Open Post

[goddamngrenades]

Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything.
PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, whichever
Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with
Tag and go, baby!

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

"Have a nice vacation while enduring the apocalypse." He smirks, thumbs hooked in his beltloops. "Lead on, Mal. I haven't been outside since I got dropped here."

[tactical_alert]

"Really? You've been staying on base the whole time? For such a people person, I find that surprising."

And lead he shall. Even with a looming apocalypse, you can't stop the night life of a big city, and while plenty of people would rather move farther inward, 'safer', more would rather stay in the protective shade of a shatterdome. It's the same as any other military installation, Malcolm muses.

He leads York to somewhere not terribly big, no flashier than anywhere else, but there's a thump of music from inside all the same. "After you."

[goddamngrenades]

"Well, kinda use up my social skills in one go." Usually. This is- new for him. Something he needs to try, soemthing he needs to prove he can do for himself. It's not easy, pushing through the crowd, keeping Malcolm on his left so he wont' be taken by surprise.

it's smaller than Errera. Louder. Brighter. He squares his shoulders like he does before he steps on the mats, pastes on a grin and slides inside. Lets the rattle of the bass bore into his bones and give him something to move with.

[tactical_alert]

It isn't so loud over at the bar. Thankfully. He doesn't care for the idea of having to yell orders or yell just to say hello to someone. "Need me around?" It hasn't escaped his attention that York keeps him on the left-hand blindspot side.

[goddamngrenades]

His fingers slip out to catch around Malcolm's wrist. Tug him along. "I'd appreciate it, yeah."

[tactical_alert]

A light frown that maybe York can't see. "All right. Wingmen, yes?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Yep. Kind of need you- you know- on my wing. To be my wingman." He offers a half smile when he tips his head enough in Malcolm's direction to actually see him.

[tactical_alert]

"Of course. Must have slipped my mind. Been a while. Where to, then?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Start at the bar and then to the dancefloor. You can dance, right?" Light on his feet as Mal is, it'd be impossible for him to not.

[tactical_alert]

"I wouldn't know. But yes, let's start at the bar. Water?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Beer." One beer. One. It'll be fine- it's just one beer. Something to hold and not drink. A prop for the rest of the night. he can manage that.

[tactical_alert]

"Water in an otherwise empty beer bottle?" Hey, it's a suggestion.

[goddamngrenades]

"I can have one beer. It's not gonna ruin my diet." He knocks Malcolm with his elbow. He appreciates it, really, but he can handle one drink. Why'd D have to bring up the 'recovering alcoholic thing' with mal, really?

[tactical_alert]

Stern face is stern. "Because if you have one, you'll probably have two, and then probably three. See the pattern?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Which is why I only have enough cash for one beer- maybe not even that if the prices are high." He props his elbows on the bar, face tipped to Malcolm. "I can manage that, Mal."

[tactical_alert]

Stern face remains stern. He'll order a cocktail for himself though. Something in a martini glass, fruity and orange-y.

[goddamngrenades]

True to his word, York counts out how much he'd need for a single beer, generous tip on top. It's light and smooth and easy to sip. He says nothing about the fruity drink till the orange peel starts bobbing when Malcolm sips and - "Would've figured you to be a gin martini kinda guy/"

[tactical_alert]

"Shaken and not stirred." A shrug. "I wouldn't mind that either, but that seems a little dry for this sort of venue, don't you think?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Fair enough." He takes a sip, wetting his lips with his tongue before he turns to put his back to the bar and look out at the bodies dancing on the floor. Could he even with his blind side? It'd be nice to try.

[tactical_alert]

"Going to try a little dancing?" He's seen the guy move. It's possible he can dance to the club beat.

[goddamngrenades]

"Think I just might. I know some of this music." After awhile it's all overly familiar, running through bones and heart and beating him out of his own head.

[tactical_alert]

"I suppose I'll come along and let you know if someone's coming up on your left. Whether to get your attention or because you're about to accidentally smack them in the face. Maybe I should do it from a distance?"

[goddamngrenades]

"I'd appreciate it. Last thing I wanna do is elbow someone in the face that's just trying to have a good time." He sips on his beer for a little longer. Just the one and it's gotta last him the night. No second. No smiling for drinks. None of that. Water after this- or soda. Sometimes they got fruit juice, even.

[tactical_alert]

"No starting any brawls, got it. We'll save that for another night," he says with a smirk. "So, anyone catching your eye yet?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Blond in the far corner. The things he's doing with his hips have got to be illegal. That or the brunette up front. She's just- look at her legs." No redheads. Never redheads.