bitofapessimist (bitofapessimist) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2014-05-18 10:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who: Ty, Anders and a cameoed Mitchell
Where: Mitchell’s pub
What: A meeting of brothers
When: After this
Rating: high for Anders
Status: closed,half-gdoced, still ongoing
The bar did not look like your regular Auckland bar. It had an old European flair to it or at least something that someone who had never been to Europe thought of as an old European flair. There was definitely a distinct absense of moderness to it. The wall behind the bar was filled with fotographs in old cobbled together frames. The tables and chairs were just as oddly mixed and amongst one of them was Anders.
Ty stepped towards his brother. “Hey. Max says ‘hi’ -” There was no way he would use the word ‘tits’ “-and wants to let you know that you are a miserable bastard.”
-0-0-0-
Anders felt the oh so familar chill first and he actually quirked a small smile but took a swig from his beer bottle and waited for his brother to approach him.
“Hey, look, it’s the iceman cometh,” he grinned up at his younger brother. “Oh come on, you know me, when am I ever a miserable bastard. Bastard, yes, miserable, hell no. Are you sure she wasn’t talking about you?”
-0-0-0-
So his brother was still finding new Hod jokes. What a great comfort! “Yes,” he said, ignoring most of his brother’s speech. “She says you’ve been down since Olaf vanished.” He took a place opposite of Anders and waiting for him to deny it.
-0-0-0-
Anders scoffed. “Are you kidding? No more spouting bullshit and having all my food eaten before I’ve even got to properly look at it? How can I be down about that?” he said, pushing the other bottle of beer across the table towards his brother.
-0-0-0-
“It is okay to admit that you miss somebody,” Ty said and took the beer. “Ta. So… this place. Do you really not know a thing about it?” he asked. He couldn’t believe that after five months - that even after Olaf had been here - they knew nothing.
-0-0-0-
“It’s hardly the first time Olaf’s vanished from our lives, is it? It’s not like he’s dead,” Anders pointed out with a shrug. “Apart from the fact that it’s fucked up, the people here are fictional and it likes to fuck you up? Oh, and there are these doors and shit. Louisiana was a fuck load of fun. Quite literally,” he added with a wide grin.
-0-0-0-
Fictional. There was the word again. “Hmm… what exactly do you mean with fictional? Are you telling me that Cheryl West or… or… Robin Hood are walking around here.”