trevor philips (
crystalmethod) wrote in
undergrounds2015-06-14 05:55 pm
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[OPEN] HERE IS SOMETHING YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND:
[open to all]
They call them pubs here. Trevor dislikes this. He refuses to use their slang, and he has already gotten into a verbal fight with someone over language. Of course, this was all incited by Trevor himself after some hapless bar patron decided to insinuate that "English" was better than "American." Or maybe he wasn't insinuating anything; Trevor just assumed he was. Or maybe the man just politely told Trevor to calm down. Trevor can't remember the reasoning anymore because it was a blur of rage.
He now can be found in the middle of a rant - one in a series of many - shouting out into the dingy pub and attempting to cause another scene, which for some reason hasn't gotten him kicked out yet.
"Lager is a fucking scourge. It's goat piss. It doesn't get the distinction of being bull piss, because that shit is strong. Which one of you pip-pip jerkoffs tried to buy the whole bar pints of lager? Is that how you show your affection, you sadist? I know you're still here! I'm gonna find your presumptuous hide and carve it right off!"
[closed to clara]
There is one ray of light in this shithole. An older woman who seems content to just watch him do his thing. He's caught her looking at him and, fearless, steps right on over and takes a seat right next to her. Leaning on the table, he turns on his "charm", which just consists of him lowering his voice and staring at her with an intensity that'd make most people uncomfortable.
"Now this is a fucking crime. Beautiful girl like yourself all alone, having to buy your own drinks. Here, lemme handle that." He takes out his wallet, picks through it and procures a-- £50 note. God dammit he hates pounds. Forgot he had some of his money converted the other day.
no subject
"Right." She could have told him that it's rude to come here and to insult the culture. It was pissing where you sleep, and utterly useless. But that wasn't the goal. The goal was to get him to calm down so they could all have a lovely evening. With this in mind, she reached out again, willing her magic to calm him.
"Soccer, then. If that's what you want. Maybe if you asked we could get you a pint of something you preferred, too?" She'd just pay with his money while he wasn't looking.
no subject
Then-- shit. For some bizarre reason, the anger's just dissipating. This is unpleasant, because he was actually enjoying that ball of rage all tight in his chest and for whatever reason it's leaving him. Must be whatever shitty alcohol he's been having.
"Uh." Trevor replies in an intelligent way before he frowns at Nancy. "Sure? Why the fuck not." Still somewhat confused but not willing to turn down more alcohol, he wanders back over to the bar.
no subject
"Whatever he wants, then." She said with an apologetic smile at the bartender as she put the wallet right back where she'd taken it from.
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"Well, fuck me. You ever considered a career in crime? -- And make it a whiskey sour." Half-shouted at the bartender.
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She doesn't remark how he's asking for a whiskey sour, but instead just adds: "And I'll have it straight." Just whiskey. Nothing fancy to it, no way.
"Never considered, no. Didn't get the opportunity." Hopefully, he's distracted enough now that he won't go back to screaming, and she's content to stop trying to calm him. It gets too exhausting, if she keeps it up for too long, especially with someone so... angry. Excitable.
She winks at him, just for the effect.