InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Driver picks the music"

Eliot Spencer (_thatswhatido) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2010-05-24 14:35:00

Entry tags:

eliot spencer, seeley booth

Who: Eliot and Booth
What: Eliot's bored, Booth wasn't doing anything. The obvious answer is shooting some pool.
Where: Complex, then the nearest place with a pool table
When: December 23rd
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete

Eliot needed to get out. Between the impending holidays and the argument going on that he didn't feel like getting involved in, restlessness had taken over and he needed to be elsewhere than the same four walls he'd seen since his second arrival in Lawrence. As to what, the answer seemed simple. Pool, darts, anything he could get someone to compete against, maybe even make a few bucks off of. No longer having a bank account had forced him back to old habits to make extra money.

Booth had posted on the boards at just the right time. He remembered the FBI agent mentioning pool at some point and it saved him the trouble of having to find someone interested in playing. It wasn't like he was doing anything important anyway. Grabbing his coat, he headed up to the fifth floor. Instead of knocking, he delivered a half-hearted kick to the base of Booth's door.

"Hey, you ready?"

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hates_clowns
2010-06-01 03:55 am UTC (link)

Seeley gave Eliot an amused nod. "We work with alot of the same firefighters, and police and other city officials on a weekly basis and Bones still can't or won't remember their names. I keep telling her it'd do her some good to at least try to work with them, but she's focused on finding the truth in the Bones. Her team is the best in the world when it comes to anthropology. But if they ever show up and you tell them I said it? I'll deny it." He had an image to keep but everything he said was stated with a fondness that was obviously a little more then just professional. Especially when it came to Bones. He talked about her the most, worked with her the closest.

Flagging down a waitress for Eliots beer and his own soda, he nodded. "That's the one." Making a face. "Hell of a beast." The young woman who came to take their order was fast and Booth approved. Drinks fast and never ending was the way to go, Eliot picked a good place so far. Normally he'd have gone for the beer, but Seeley was severely cutting back on the drinking. He didn't like how much it was happening to help him cope with things in this world. His dad was an abusive drunk as a kid, and his younger brother was an idiotic drunk now. There was no way he was going to follow down the same road.

"Thing was fast, and the people that worked in that building didn't even know it was there. Little ironic it was posing as a banker." He mused as Eliot racked the balls and he picked up a stick, waiting for his shot.
[ooc: Argh, I totally had a post for you yesterday and lost it to a crappy connection. =| I haaaate retyping replies DD: ]

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_thatswhatido
2010-06-01 05:56 pm UTC (link)

Eliot's hands went up. "Hey man, they're not hearing it from me. There wouldn't be anything to gain from it." Unless he felt like getting back at him for some reason undiscovered. "I don't feed egos. Some of them are large enough as is." He sometimes said the same thing about Hardison's while Hardison said the same thing about him. "At least she's focused on the job. There's worse things to be."

He dropped the cue ball on the table, letting it roll Booth's way. The last few balls went into the triangle and he lined them up on the marked spot before removing the boundaries and hooking it back on the overhead light. "You buy, you break," he commented as he stepped back.

"No one could probably tell the difference. They wouldn't be so dangerous if Joe Normal could." Eliot sat on the edge of the table, little square piece of chalk in hand. "Probably better they don't know what kind of weirdo they've got working next to them."

((No worries! I just had that happen. It does indeed suck.))

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hates_clowns
2010-06-13 09:29 pm UTC (link)

Satisfied with the answer Booth gave Eliot a scruffy smirk. "Glad to hear it." Picking up his stick he nodded and took the first shot. It'd been a while since he'd played real pool. That was one of the few things he was enjoying about Kansas though, the pool. With actual players. He was once a pool shark. His shots were typically flawless. But this was just a friendly game. No money was being placed on it. So he wasn't going to take Eliot. He was just going to relax and enjoy a game. He could do that couldn't he?

"Probably not. Weird though. Once we are trained to see them how the general public can be so blind to it." He couldn't understand. But he supposed alot of things were like that. He really shouldn't have been so surprised about the public's general unawareness. "Guess it's true what they say, people only see what they want too." Booth had an expert aim, so pool was definitely his kind of game. He was glad to have someone to play against. Anymore tournaments and Angela would worry his gambling addiction was back. Chalking up the end of his stick he aimed the stick on his hand and took his first shot separating the balls around the table. He had a natural eye for the game, and expert control.

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_thatswhatido
2010-06-14 01:48 am UTC (link)

"People can only see what they want to," Eliot agreed as he chalked the cue and tossed the little chalk square back on the table. Picking up the bottle, he took a drink before continuing. "Or they don't pick up on the little nuances that you find out about in training. In that case, it's not a matter of ignorance, but just hiding something very well." A trick that helped pull off the con, hiding some details.

He watched the cue ball hit and the other balls scatter. The way the FBI agent was focusing on the table, Eliot could tell he was a little more than a casual player. Good. He wasn't about to take it easy on him so having a challenge would make it a little more entertaining. Maybe even put some money down on later rounds.

"I'm surprised this whole town hasn't gotten the idea that something is going on, the way things go around here," he said, shaking his head. "How many times now have things gone to hell?"

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hates_clowns
2010-06-16 08:44 am UTC (link)

"Two, three times since I've been here in almost four months now?" He questioned with a shrug and took another shot. In pool it was customary to keep shooting until a miss. His highest run was 45 balls straight. But he didn't want to play himself all night. Booth had some pretty bad habits as a young man, but his childhood hadn't been a happy time. His dad was a drunk and often abusive, his grandfather tried but he was rebellious and often pushed away. He remembered when he used to run off to bars in the middle of the night as a teenager and attempt to win money at pool and cards. He became pretty close to expert level, but he slipped away from everything else important as a result and nearly killed himself. So this game was just going to be a friendly one, as would all his others from then on if he could help it.

"And with all the squabbling just from our side I'm surprised nobodies stumbled onto our side of the forums and found out." Booth could handle politics, it came with his job. So he had no issues trying to smooth things over when one side of the complex arguments got too heated than the other. He also had a kid so those kind of problems he was used too.

"Wanna make things more interesting?" He questioned, squinting up at Eliot with a smirk. He couldn't help it. His logical side knew he shouldn't, but old habits died hard.

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_thatswhatido
2010-06-16 04:58 pm UTC (link)

Eliot mentally tabulated what they'd been through since his own arrival, twice over. The angry trash cans, torture by Alistair, ghost sickness, the sudden acquisition of abilities, the body swap (which he hoped never happened again or someone was going to be hurt), false memories (which he still wanted to hurt someone for), and there were probably one or two minor things he'd forgotten.

Still, Eliot held up six fingers and rolled his eyes. He'd been there nearly a year and had gone through all that. It was a miracle his sanity was still intact. "I need a vacation from this place," he muttered. How long had it been since he'd actually done what he was trained to do, knew how to do? He wanted to be back on his own turf, working with the crew again. Never would he have admitted it before but it looked like working with a group instead of alone could get under his skin just as much as being the good guy could.

"Maybe they have and think we're all a bunch of nutjobs. Maybe we are." He shrugged. "Squabbling's going to happen. We got a bunch of people from all over the place with different opinions. I almost pity whoever steps up to play moderator when it happens." He, unless it was something he knew well enough to argue on or concerned him directly, just planned to stay out of it.

Eliot smirked slightly. "How much you want to put down?"

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hates_clowns
2010-06-20 06:20 am UTC (link)

"..Six?" He questioned with a raised brow at the thief. Amusement lit his features. "Someplace Islandy." Booth remembered the last time he tried to go on vacation. Even where he was from they didn't always turn out as planned. Somehow he had the sneaking suspicion that the same if not worse would be Lawrence, Kansas. Home of many apocalypse, or apocalyp-si? Was that even a word? He missed normal people who didn't have to think and brace themselves for the next near world ending disaster. He actually missed the squints. Even Zack's cold and mechanical calculations he could deal with. Even missed a little. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud himself either.

Looking up from his shot which slid perfectly into the corner pocket he was aiming for he shrugged. "Ten bucks a ball?" Start low. He was curious what kind of money Eliot had laying around for a little pool. Pool wasn't gambling. It was..a sport. Yes, he could get away with that. A sport where a side won, and the money was a trophy. His mind was a strange place when it came to justifying gambling. But that's what happened when addictions came into play. They warped the thought process and clouded the mind. Booth didn't even realize he was sliding back into old habits. Even though he had to mentally convince himself that it wasn't gambling, it didn't register. He was far too entertained by the fact that Eliot wanted to put money on the game even while watching him make shot after shot.

"Eight ball corner pocket." He stated while setting up his shot. It was a difficult shot, the cue ball brushing up against it.

[ooc: argh, I know nothing about pool. It's all google. XD]

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_thatswhatido
2010-06-20 01:29 pm UTC (link)

As he began listing them off, he ticked them off on his fingers. "The first time, there was ghost sickness. People freaking out over harmless things until they located the body of the ghost responsible and took care of it. Then the..." He hesitated as he tried to remember what Martha and Romana had called them. "Daleks. Looked like angry trash cans. Disappeared during that." Eliot scowled, not at the disappearance - that he hadn't minded - but at what came next.

"Showed up here again and a few weeks later, got tortured by a demon. Then there was us getting those powers and people losing their damn minds, the body switching, and the false memories." He didn't just need a vacation, he wanted out of this place. Eliot could adjust pretty damn quick but the number of curve balls thrown their way was continuous. "Probably could count ending up here in the first place." Which would bring the grand total up to eight. Eliot snorted. "Anywhere not Kansas would be a start. Any place not this dimension would be even better."

The game was going to be a hard fought one but Eliot was fine with that. He wouldn't have made the offer if he wasn't and he had the cash to spare. Working in a hardware store of all places didn't exactly leave him rolling in it but picking up a few small jobs on the side gave him a little extra income. It was like starting over again and he had to start somewhere. "Twenty," he said, studying the table. "Next game." He watched the FBI agent sink another one.

"Better idea," he said as he pushed away from the table. "After this game. Each one gets a full table to try knocking as many balls in as possible without missing. The one with the lower number has to pay out, per a ball knocked in," he said, grinning. Booth was good, he'd give him that, but Eliot was no slouch in the aim and shoot department either. "How's that settle?"

((Google is a handy thing xD))

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