A well-worn, unglamorous bar, often serving a cheap, simple selection of drinks to a regular clientele. The term can describe anything from a comfortable-but-basic neighborhood pub to the nastiest swill-slinging hole.
"Man, that place is such a dive bar... Don't go in unless you plan to burn your clothes afterwards."
life sucks, off to the DIVE BAR
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01) BARFLY Is that your fourth or fifth drink? Nice. 02) BOOTH In your own mind, you probably think you're pulling an Aragorn. 03) TOILETS Place stinks of piss but it's the most private room around. 04) BACKYARD Where the smokers usually huddle together. The proverbial kitchen of the party. 05) STREET The lamplight is broken and it's fucking freezing. And 3AM. Why aren't you inside?
The first time the two of them had walked into the F&F together they'd been greeted with a laugh of 'my two favorite regulars finally run into each other' which had left them both confused, and laughing a little, at how they'd never managed to run into each other there before.
After that it had become a fairly regular occurrence, the two of them arriving together, or meeting there. Today they were there a little earlier than Din's usual visits since it was right after work, he'd actually had to be in the courtroom, which always left him a little frazzled, even when it was the judge who actually liked him and respected his work, so when Cobb had texted asking if he wanted to hustle some tourists at pool, he was obviously in.
The fact that there were no tourists there that evening was a secondary concern at the moment, because he was having a good time anyway.
It was a good bar even if it wasn't pretty. The owners took no shit and when the occasional tourist wandered in they were pretty fun to mess with. After a stressful day at court it was just the thing to clear Din's head.
And Cobb got to watch him bend over a pool table. Couldn't really argue with the benefits of that.
"You think if it gets any slower we can challenge Fennec and Fett to a game?" He asked as he leaned a hip against the pool table. Maybe he stood a little closer to Din than necessary but that was another half of the fun for him on these nights out.
[[Bounty hunter between jobs currently just trying to get some liquor into her. It's not achieving much, her mangled genetics make most poisons useless, alcohol included, but it's something.]]
[ Down for drinking/eating contests, bar fights, arm wrestling, and whatever else. Jamjars and mash-ups are cool! Either drop a starter or lmk and I'll do one. I'm not great at writing open starters and would prefer to write something specific for you instead. c: ]
[The two tacticians would plop themselves down on either side of the bounty hunter, they had been watching her knock back quite a few and figured they should at least treat her to the next few rounds, since they had been entertained watching her drain several hard liquors. The female one would speak first, followed by the male.]
Next round is on us. Youve been putting away quite a lot!
She's Morgan, by the way. I'm Marc. Nice to meet you.
[That name got a raised eyebrow from the both of them. Samus? Interesting. They doubted that Samus Aran would be visiting a family run bar like this. Was she using an alias? Morgan would speak first while Marc got their orders from the bartender.]
So what brings you to our neck of the system? I hope its not just the liquor.
[And being incredibly low-profile so she doesn't attract the wrong sort of attention, and at the ass end of the galaxy from the people she hates so she doesn't go and find the wrong sort of attention.]
What about you kids? Is the drinking age pretty low here?
[It isn't that they never get to be themselves. They do--far more often than Horatio would ever have expected in his earliest youth. There's an absolute freedom in their own home, an easy certainty that the walls were strong enough to hold them safe and secure, that the world might not fall to pieces simply because they had found a piece of joy for themselves.
There's more difficulty when they're out in the world like this. The distance they're meant to keep, even now, was a constant prickling along his spine. The roles they were meant to fulfill came bright and bold again, pressing back at the pieces of themselves that felt so easy and natural when they were alone.
The particular little tavern they've found themselves in tonight feels somewhere strangely in between. It feels oddly deviant to actually sit beside her in a quiet little corner; utterly thrilling to catch hold of her hand and bring it to his lips.]
[Even Lords and Ladies and the King's sister have to travel from time to time... or rather a lot depending on the season. She didn't mind it, so much. She had ridden a horse before she could walk and the days melded together in a pleasant, slightly dirty blur of greens and greys and dark brown mud, that rich smell when the rain was fresh and the sweet breeze in the mornings.
And she was never alone anymore. Horatio was there beside her, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand. It didn't matter if she had no guards or twenty as long as he was with her.
In the Tavern it's even better. It's musty, sure, with the scent of stale beer and old wood. The smell of damp, of men, of charred roast and questionable stew. But here they can sit in the dark, with Horatio less conscious of everyone looking when she leans closer to him, and a table to hide how she rubs her leg against his in slow, easy motions as she just enjoys his heat.
When he kisses her hand her pulse races. It doesn't matter that those lips have done a thousand more scandalous things to her. Every touch is still like lightning, like the day they met, like their first kiss and the first time they made love. She could live for centuries with Horatio and never bore of him.]
I love you. [She says quietly and impulsively as she turns to be closer to him.] Always. No matter what. Until the sun goes black and the earth turns to dust.
[ A haggard-looking knight drinks alone in the corner. He bears a passing resemblance to a Wanted poster you saw some time ago, if not for the beard. ]
[That was quite trusting of her, Not that Marc would actually drug anyone. Morgan might though... Watch out for her. The taste of Apples would hit Samus's tongue as she took her swig. Hard Cider? Seems the two had sweet tooths.]
They make a good house blend. Drinking and talking about liquor will run the conversation dry, sooo~ how can you put away all that and still look like that? [Morgan gestured to Samus's generous curves. She might be a bit envious, especially of the hair.]
[Good luck with that. It took a pretty potent neurotoxin for her to even feel it. Not to mention the rotgut she'd dealt with in some real shitholes. A dive was fairly pleasant by her standards.]
You really want to know? Good genes. [That accounted for the big tits, nice hips, and even nicer ass, but it wasn't the full story. And what the hell, the kids were being friendly, so...] And it helps that... Yes. That Samus.
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