[ If anyone's done a halfway decent tour of drinking place in Folkmore, it's this guy. Admittedly, he's never been back to Tides after that first trip, but he doesn't need to pull that deep to find a place to drink with Zack. ]
Yeah, the fighting pits have a bar, or well a place where people there drink. Drinks strong enough to burn the back of your throat.
[ It's the kind of place that reminds him of home. All the desert and dry heat of Cruel Summer only enforces the idea. Shit's happened, and that is a place in sand with booze raw enough to burn a hole in your stomach.
It's not a long journey, and the pit in Wolfwood's stomach is heavier than the punisher he carries with him. It gets a few eyes running over it as he makes his way to the bar. ]
Two glasses and a bottle just above the worst stuff you got.
[Zack will cough up the lore for it, it's no problem. But one bottle of even the worst isn't likely to even get him buzzed. He does manage to muster the smallest of low-energy smiles for Wolfwood, however.]
Thanks for comin' with. Drinking alone is too depressing.
[ Wolfwood confirms it with what passes for a bartender. He holds up his spoon to pay for it. He's had the less shitty day or week or whatever. He can pay to try to get Zack wasted. ]
Before I met Vash, I wouldn't have wanted to drink with any of my potential drinking partners, so it was that and whatever company I made in a bar for me. Before Folkmore.
[Zack doesn't even try to protest the payment, even though he should be the one paying since he asked for this. He just pours each of them a glass before lifting his own to take a swig as he listens.]
[ Wolfwood needs a drink before he answers that question. He takes his glass, sighs, and empties the glass. He pours another but doesn't drink it yet. ]
They were all a bunch of assholes I didn't even want to work with. I wasn't going to give them any more time of day.
Ha. [ Wolfwood laughs because they have too much in common. Bluesummers wanted to kill him on sight, and if Wolfwood were any less useful, he'd try to kill him... more seriously than he has already. ]
If Millions Knives weren't holding everyone together, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned into a free-for-all bloodbath.
[ The words explain everything, and it's shit. It's not something Wolfwood can help with. She's gone, and he doesn't have girlfriend fetching powers. If he did, his brother would be here. ]
Shit. I should have ordered all the bottles in the bar.
[ He pours some more and drinks it. ]
That's shit. I'll drink here as long as you want to.
[Zack hasn't looked at a clock either, honestly. It's just a thing to say.]
Good. Don't need to make things worse by dragging you into it and getting you hurt. I'm trustin' you.
[He's not sure he has it in him to play watchdog even on a good day- he's just not built for that kind of responsibility. Still, if Wolfwood did get sick, he'd carry the poor guy home.]
[ It's a small thing, but Wolfwood feels a warmer spark from Zack trusting him than from the whiskey. He wasn't going to cause Zack any problems tonight before that statement, but he's especially not doing it now. Whiskey may fade, but he wants that spark to stay. ]
Only thing you dragged me into is dragging your sorry ass home at the end of the night if you need it. You're not that heavy. It won't be hard.
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Yeah, the fighting pits have a bar, or well a place where people there drink.
Drinks strong enough to burn the back of your throat.
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meet u there then thanks
[Time to find the grimmest hole in the fighting pit areas and shove his face in a bottle for a while. He's definitely not his usual perky self today.]
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It's not a long journey, and the pit in Wolfwood's stomach is heavier than the punisher he carries with him. It gets a few eyes running over it as he makes his way to the bar. ]
Two glasses and a bottle just above the worst stuff you got.
[ No reason to wait on each pour. ]
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[Zack will cough up the lore for it, it's no problem. But one bottle of even the worst isn't likely to even get him buzzed. He does manage to muster the smallest of low-energy smiles for Wolfwood, however.]
Thanks for comin' with. Drinking alone is too depressing.
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[ Wolfwood confirms it with what passes for a bartender. He holds up his spoon to pay for it. He's had the less shitty day or week or whatever. He can pay to try to get Zack wasted. ]
Before I met Vash, I wouldn't have wanted to drink with any of my potential drinking partners, so it was that and whatever company I made in a bar for me. Before Folkmore.
[ You know, depressing. ]
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How come you didn't want to with anybody else?
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They were all a bunch of assholes I didn't even want to work with.
I wasn't going to give them any more time of day.
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You're way better than anyone I've worked with, but that's not much of a compliment.
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[Some of them even succeeded!]
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If Millions Knives weren't holding everyone together, I wouldn't be surprised if it turned into a free-for-all bloodbath.
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[Is that a person? An organization?? Hell of a name either way.]
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[ Wolfwood waves a hand. ]
No one wants to cross him. He could kill any one of us. Hell all of us if we grouped together, which we never would.
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[It sucks! He's tired of it!]
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Shitty things happen, and it makes for shitty people who keep doing shittier and shittier things? That's the best I got.
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[Zack downs another shot, pouring a fresh one, though before he swigs he swirls the liquid around in his glass.]
...The fox sent my girlfriend home. So. That's shitty.
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Shit. I should have ordered all the bottles in the bar.
[ He pours some more and drinks it. ]
That's shit. I'll drink here as long as you want to.
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[He could keep drinking for a while yet.]
Stop before you die, though. I dunno a SOLDIER's limits.
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[ He hadn't looked at a clock when Zack made his way over. When bad things happen, it's drinking time, no matter the time of day.
The limit Zack suggests though... Wolfwood thinks of Vash, and yeah, he's not going to drink himself into the grave, not even for one night. ]
I have a fast metabolism. It takes a lot more to keep me drunk, and even more to kill me. Dying isn't good drinking buddy behavior. It's off the list.
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Good. Don't need to make things worse by dragging you into it and getting you hurt. I'm trustin' you.
[He's not sure he has it in him to play watchdog even on a good day- he's just not built for that kind of responsibility. Still, if Wolfwood did get sick, he'd carry the poor guy home.]
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Only thing you dragged me into is dragging your sorry ass home at the end of the night if you need it. You're not that heavy. It won't be hard.
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You're the real hero tonight, man. Thanks.
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If you want to wind up on the floor for the night, drink at home. Then no one has to worry about walking.
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You just called me more depressing. Not in a while mind you, but Vash and I have both done that. Together even.
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