> @BROKEBACKSTAB | @ALL

[handsomefoil]

Hygiene issues aside, is anyone actually enjoying anything about Paris?

Comments

@LONERANGER

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Yeah.

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER Same






@LONERANGER Sorry seems I can't do the short and sweet bit. Can I assume you're from modern times?

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB You did it wrong.

[handsomefoil]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Did what wrong?

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB You were supposed to ask what I liked about Paris. Then I'd say

@BROKEBACKSTAB leaving it.

[handsomefoil]

@BROKEBACKSTAB My god you're right
@BROKEBACKSTAB I ruined a perfectly good set-up for that joke
@BROKEBACKSTAB I'm sorry

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Should be.

@BROKEBACKSTAB Anyway yeah. I came from whatever you'd call modern times. You?

omg i used my own fuckin un for henry's replies im deaD kill me

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER Correct
@LONERANGER Modern day California to be specific but my heart will always be in Ireland

I just thought you were really enthusiastic about your UN

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Yeah? Guess that makes it just about the only thing in Ireland.

@BROKEBACKSTAB That and some decent beer.

warbled cries

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER Oh no... don't remind me about the drink
@LONERANGER I could go for some right now

it's ok I almost tagged you with Kylo Ren just now so we'll just both pretend to be competent

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB You think they got anything imported here?

highfive we got this competent at rp thing in the bag

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER One could only hope
@LONERANGER 17th century imported booze sounds very expensive
@LONERANGER Doubt the locals here would have anything besides watered down piss



@LONERANGER But
@LONERANGER Suppose that doesnt stop me from taking a look around for it

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Helps if you know where to start. You want a partner, you can tag along with me.

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER A little B&E to warm me up sounds like a good way to kick this campaign off
@LONERANGER So does this mean you don't live up to your user name?

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Didn't pick it. Don't imagine you did either.

@BROKEBACKSTAB And just because I'm letting you along this time don't mean it's gonna happen again.

[handsomefoil]

[ ooh tough guy, this should be fun ]

@LONERANGER True

@LONERANGER I'll try not to overstay my welcome
@LONERANGER but who knows? Maybe you'll love me

[i_swear]

[-100 approval]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Not off to a good start.

[handsomefoil]

@LONERANGER Not fond of my brand of jokes eh?
@LONERANGER promise i'll make it up to you

[i_swear]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Making it worse.

@BROKEBACKSTAB Less bullshit. More doing. I'm leaving in 15 minutes.

[In other words: be there, or you're out of the booze deal.]

[handsomefoil]

[ he was being serious that time!!! ]

@LONERANGER Roger that. Where at

[i_swear]

[Insert a nebulous address here because I'm too lazy to coordinate anything real at 12am at night.]

@BROKEBACKSTAB Don't be late.

[handsomefoil]

[ that's how we all do, i feel you on this. also (un)fortunately henry is never late unless he wants to be :) so have fun with that. he doesn't reply back and prepares to move out. ]

TIMESKIP

[i_swear]

[Scavenging while people are still around is...different. He's used to it for the most part, considering he'd already done more than enough of it for war supplies, but for alcohol— for luxury goods in the middle of a damn city— makes this whole thing feel like even more of a dream. But he can feel the rough pull of fabric in his hands from the satchel he's slung over his shoulder, the off-balance sloshing of bottles pressing against his back. Nothing imagined could be this real, and at the moment there's no helping where he is. What he's stuck doing.

His heavy boots drag over the doorstep of the boarding house he's rented out. It's a nice place, given the state of the city. Too nice to put up with the mud Joel clearly doesn't mind dragging in with him, already heading upstairs towards his room by the time the old woman that owns the place calls out a distant, homely greeting.

He also doesn't answer her.

Cracking the doorknob to his room, he doesn't hold the door for Henry. But there's space for him in that wide room— lovingly furnished, and entirely unsuited to the man that's currently dumping out bottles of rare, aged spirits across a hundred year old bedspread.]

[handsomefoil]

[ Henry always made sure not to step on any toes, especially early on in building a rapport with someone. This guy, this Joel— he was a man of very few words, brutal honesty, and a tough shell to crack. Regular conversation wouldn't work on this guy. He saw more value in actions.

In place of Joel's cold shoulder, he greets the woman in familiar French, a language he never got to use anymore but could never forget. His job required him to be friendly and personable without being too memorable, and he toed a fine line with everyone he met. Sometimes it doesn't always goes as planned, but he always has backup for something like that.

Fortunately, he doesn't expect another person to hold the door for him and slips past the opening to make himself comfortable. Well, at least as comfortable as possible. During their hunt, Henry had managed to use his sneaking abilities and acrobatics to get into higher floors without having to use front doors, taking advantage of open windows and crevices. He's a slim guy, if a bit on the tall side, but he gets the job done.

He digs one that he'd swiped on his own from the inside of his jacket pocket. A small bottle of absinthe. Not his usual fare, but one he'd gratefully swipe from an upper-class household. ]

This's a good haul.

[i_swear]

[He's not subtle. Not by a long shot. Maybe a few degrees less of a bull before the outbreak hit, before the breakup, the arguments over who saw Sarah when— and how many times he had to cancel on her or straight up work through it all. It was the foundation for everything else that calcified overtop of it later on, and it's part of why he doesn't waste time on niceties anymore.

Joel digs through the clinking bottles to fish up something dusty: clearly held onto by its owner for the day the conflict ends. Pulling it up to the light of an oil lamp, he narrows his eyes at the liquid sloshing around inside of it just to make sure.] Whiskey. Irish, if the label's right.

[Their end of the bargain done and dealt with, apparently. From there, he turns his attention to what Henry's holding.] It'll keep until we get our asses out of here.

Catch.

[Better put those reflexes to good use, partner.]