Omega

Who: Ghost and Mac
When: shortly after Ghost's arrival
Where: The Normal Bar
Why: Ghost needs to be less sober.

Ghost wandered towards the Normal Bar, in search of solace in the form of White Horse Whiskey. Ever since he'd learned of Dylan Thomas, drinking himself to death at the White Horse tavern on 18 straight shots of whiskey to celebrate each of his 18 poems - Ghost had drunk nothing but. He could only hope that this strange pop-o-matic bubble of a town still contained such delicacies. He pushed open the door, and peered inside.

Mac was fiddling with the jukebox, and managed to figure out how to rig it to play without charging. What was the point? The economy was nonexistent, as far as he could tell. He'd just finished setting the thing to random when the door opened. He turned catching sight of a young man who was peering int he door. "Hey," he said, heading back to stand behind the bar. "How's it going?"

"The world is ending outside the bubble, so ... bad? But here, not-so." Ghost padded the rest of the way into the bar, absorbing the atmosphere of the place as he walked, touching tables and chairs as he passed them. "Do you have white horse whiskey?" he asked, in his whisper-thin voice, tilting his head to the side to contemplate the barkeep.

( Drunk and dreaming... )