heyfreemagic | (no subject)

[When shadows are living forces and your city is under attack, it's no surprise that some people are driven to drink. Those newly brought into the city have been dragged into an unfamiliar place away from their homes, pushed into a fight they know nothing about, and saddled with abilities they likely never asked for. It's a lot to take in.

The go-to method for Greg is to avoid making waves and just try to get along with other, normal people, while someone else can handle the issue. Unfortunately, none of the normal people seem to be willing to get along. For all his efforts, he can barely get one-word responses out of the best of them, and general disdainful looks from all. Not to say it's an unfamiliar circumstance, but with everything else it's all too much to deal with right now.

Greg hasn't drunk a whole lot since the birth of his kid, but his kid's not here, which is a conflicting matter all its own. He's nursing a beer alone at a table, tuning his guitar softly. The rest of the barflies don't seem happy to have him there, since, well, they're presumably here to drink and forget about all these foreigners. Still, they accepted the few crumpled bills from his wallet without too much complaint.

They may have to get used to sharing the space, should anyone else feel like coming for some pressure release.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You can get used to anything. [He shrugs, like that wasn't the biggest understatement of the past week.]

[Okay, that sounded like Greg had experience, with- with something, at least. Probably not the best time to pry. He gives it a moment to settle instead, to let Greg catch his breath.]

You don't have to do it all at once, you know. [Wash sure isn't.] Like I said, it takes time.

Yeah... yeah, it does. [It doesn't happen all at once. But in the end... he wouldn't trade his life back home for anything. Maybe, somewhere far down the line, this can be for the better. He'll have to wait to see, for now.]

Wash... thanks. Seriously. [He wipes his nose on his arm, and gives Wash a weak smile. He certainly doesn't feel good, or even decent, or really anything short of awful. But he does feel just a little better than a few minutes ago.] You're a good guy, you know that?

[Greg's doing better than Wash is at the moment; Wash can't manage a smile. He nods instead, and-]

[Wait, did Greg really just say that?]

[His eyes widen for a moment as he processes that. This is the guy he took his considerable frustration out on when he first arrived, and now Greg is...thanking him? Complimenting him? It's like the Reds and Blues all over again. He just attracts these people.]

[After a few moments of trying and failing to process this turn of events, Wash just looks away.]

...Thanks.

[There's an interesting reaction to being thanked. Maybe the battle-experienced, angry, bitter soldier is shy? Greg's smile flickers and fades, and he shrugs as he straightens himself up.]

Ah, man. I made you run out on your beer, huh? I'll have to buy you another sometime. Or, like, lunch. Something.

[He's not sure how soon he should go back to that bar, and he hasn't yet figured out that things are generally free around here. It's the thought that counts.]