InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "butter-voiced beau"

Eliot Spencer (doesntlikeguns) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-05-05 19:29:00

Entry tags:

!open, anthony j. crowley, eliot spencer

Who: Eliot and OPEN
What: Darts and beer
Where: Pub near the apartments
When: Evening
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete

The thunk of the dart hitting the target was muffled by the low murmur of conversation going on around him. Eliot took a long drink and set the glass on the tall table beside him. His hand drifted to the last dart, taking aim at the board again. He hesitated, then tossed the dart to his left hand. A quick line up and he threw it. The dart hit the board, just right of the target.

First Nate had ended up in the custody of the FBI, now he and Parker were stuck in Colligo again. Part of him had hoped, after posting to the boards, that it would turn out Nate had shown up with them, like last time. But there was no Nate, no Sophie, no Hardison. The grifter and the hacker were left to their own devices and he was left to the whims of a mysterious figure with a twisted sense of humor.

He needed a few hours out before he put a hole in the wall.

Eliot headed over to the board, pulling the darts out and backing up to his original position. As a waitress passed, he reached out to lightly grab her arm. "Could I have another one?" he asked, flashing her a smile as he pointed to the empty glass sitting on the table. When he turned back, there was a body between him and the board.

"Hey, could you move a few feet either way?"

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flashbastard
2010-05-11 01:52 am UTC (link)

To hustle or not to hustle. That was the question. Were he 'on the job', so to speak, there would be no considering. The answer would be an unequivocal 'yes'. However he wasn't 'on the job'. He was just out, a bit bored and looking to entertain himself. There wasn't any way to contact Hell here, unless you counted going directly to the version of the Boss that was within the city. Which Crowley didn't. Not because she was a poor version or anything of that sort but more because he would rather not attract the attention of any version of Lucifer whatsoever if he could at all avoid it. He couldn't imagine his bit in stopping the Apocalypse back home had gone over very well and, frankly, wasn't about to willingly hand himself up on a platter to face whatever punishment might be deemed suitable for such an infraction.

So he wasn't working. He was simply having a bit of fun. Which... really, meant that the answer about hustling was almost certainly a yes anyway. After all, what was the point of all of this if he didn't enjoy himself, and what was the point of wagers if he didn't toss the matches until the stakes were high enough that it was worthwhile?

With his mind made up - which really consisted mainly of Crowley deciding to hustle the mortal if the situation presented itself but not to tip the scales too terribly much - he flashed Eliot a grin that revealed a row of perfectly straight, white teeth, and picked up a dart. "No laughing," he warned good-naturedly. Turning to the board, he hesitated and glanced back at the man. "Well, at least, no laughing loud enough to draw a crowd, eh?"

Then, with another grin, he turned back to the task at hand and threw the dart. It hit the mark, although toward the outer edges of the target rather than nearer the middle. Not bad for someone whose cover story was they were rusty at playing the sport. Certainly piss poor had Crowley truly been trying, but that was neither here nor there. With a bit of a shrug, he picked up another dart and repeated the same thing. This time the dart made it a little closer to the bullseye.

"I suppose that's enough," he stated nonchalantly. He glanced over at Eliot. "Don't want to get too warmed up. Might pass right over any sort of luck that's on my side."

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doesntlikeguns
2010-05-11 04:08 am UTC (link)

The last time he'd played with someone else, it had been about the con. A distraction so Parker could lift wallets. If he had been able to put money down on that, he would've walked away a little richer than before. Liam and his brother had been easy enough to bait. The former was a decent shot, the latter couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if he was standing five feet away from it. Easy mark.

Crowley was at least better than the brother, enough to make a game out of it. That's all he wanted. A couple hours of distraction and maybe a free beer out of it. He held up his hands, a statement of innocence. "Not a sound. Wouldn't want to break that concentration," he replied, grinning faintly as he picked up his glass.

"Sounds like the teams I follow. Play right to the end and then can't finish," he said dryly. After a quick drink, he set the glass back down and picked up a dart. He lined up a shot with his left hand and let it fly. It hit between the double and triple rings. Heading over to the board, he grabbed the three darts, clearing the board for the round.

He kept the three darts for his turn, leaving the other three on the table for Crowley. "First go is yours. So you don't lose that upcoming lucky streak."

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flashbastard
2010-05-19 01:01 pm UTC (link)

He took note of Eliot using his left hand and pointedly didn't bother looking closely enough at the man to see if that was his normal way of doing things or not. Sometimes, the demon had to admit, it was actually more fun to be kept on your toes rather than have it all figured out. Kept things interesting, if nothing else. "I appreciate it, mate," he replied lightly at the offer to go first.

Crowley's hand snaked across the first dart on the table before plucking it up. He held it loosely in his hand as though testing it to make absolutely certain it felt the same as the others he'd just tossed. In actuality, he was still torn between whether or not to toss the match. When no immediate answer seemed forthcoming, he simply tossed the dart with a sort of half-attempt (while seemingly focused, thank you six thousand years worth of learning how to mask his true intentions around humans) and let it land where it wished to go.

It struck somewhere near halfway between the outer edge of the board and the bullseye. Crowley's expression was schooled into a pleased one as he took another, casual sip of his drink. "Well," he remarked with a glance at Eliot, "I suppose it's better than missing the thing entirely, eh?"

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doesntlikeguns
2010-05-19 09:08 pm UTC (link)

Eliot stepped back to give Crowley room to throw and picked up his glass, watching the dart and the man throwing it over the edge of the glass as he tilted it up. His answer took a moment as he finished the swallow he'd taken and set the glass down. "A few points better, yeah," he replied. "The good thing is it's not always what you hit, but how much you hit."

Picking up one of the darts, he found a spot behind the faded line of paint on the floor. Once again, the dart went to his left hand as he lined up the shot. If they'd been playing for larger amounts, he would've gone with his dominant hand but a friendly wager gave him some practice time. He lined up the shot and threw the dart. It hit with a solid thump! between the bulls eye and the triple ring.

As he stepped back, he glanced over at Crowley. "So, you from around here?" The question wasn't meant in the usual way. Are you one of them or are you one of us? His guess was the latter but most of the Colligo residents were convincing until they were asked about the city. It was easier to just ask.

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