rhodes (![]() ![]() @ 2015-11-09 09:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | dixon albatroz, ireland rhodes |
WHO: Dixon Albatroz & Ireland Rhodes
WHAT: Shots shots shots
WHEN: October 31st
WHERE: TJ bar.
WARNINGS:
Tables of cheap red plastic with equally beat-up matching chairs made the whole bar all the more charming. Ganymede had a few secluded bars which were on the cheaper side, but this? This place was bright; from the furniture to the decoration, even the brown shot glasses and beers seemed to exude a different vibe from what Ireland was used to. And despite the disastrous meeting with Ty, alongside the warnings of having caught the attention of Santa Muerte in the worst way possible, he was enjoying himself in this place. But then again, whenever Dix was involved, Ireland could count on enjoying himself. Dix returned to the table and slid a glass to Ireland, froth and beer sloshing over the rim and onto the tabletop, and he grinned before taking a swig from his own glass. “Two-for-one specials all day. Good thing I have you or I’d be out and it’s only…” He glanced out a window and finished, “...the afternoon. Shameful. After taking another gulp, he asked, “How was going incognito into the shady underbelly of Tijuana?” Dirty. Dangerous. And apparently not where London was. Smiling into his beer glass, Ireland downed it and gestured for another(a telltale sign of his discomfort that would only be evident to those closest to him). "Please do not put shots into my beer when I'm not looking. That is cheating." But he was flashing a smile as he said this, and Dix shrugged noncommittally. "And not so incognito." The tinge of red along his ears, "Even on these dates non-TJ folk stand out too much, couldn't get very far." Well, Ireland could have tried to push further but there was Dix and Charlie to consider. His life on the line was one thing, but theirs? No, Ireland wouldn't gamble with their lives. He hadn’t quite answered Dix’s questioned either. Dix cast his gaze toward the bar, watching the beginnings of a scuffle for a moment, and then asked, “So another dead end?” Two beers arrived and Ireland was silently thankful for the two-for-one special going on; he entertained the thought that Dix had some sort of uncanny ability to find good bars. The smile flickered, not really reaching any sort of warmth; it was simply there, a mask put on automatically for the waitress that dropped the moment she left them. "Not quite, I was given a warning to stop asking questions." Which of course was the sign to ask all the questions possible. That was generally Dix’s response to such a warning. He raised an eyebrow to that, and then focused his attention to downing the rest of his first glass, swiping the wetness at the corners of his mouth as he reached for the second. “How scary. Makes me wonder how deep in shit your brother got himself into over these years,” Dix deadpanned, pausing to take another sip, “but that’s just what we’ll find out. So, what do you want to do now?” "Deep, but if they just told me. If I could see him." If he was alive, even. Then Ireland could go home and give his parent's something. "Then I could stop asking." Or not, Ireland was not sure what he would do once he found his brother but it probably would be a stupid, sentimental action. "Back to Ganymede, asking more questions there." Which should be clear enough that once he had more contacts and more access, he would be back in TJ. "I don't want anyone ending up with a knife up their back while we are here." Ireland went back to his beer, considered asking Dick again if he was sure sticking by in this mess was what he wanted. But Dix only replied breezily, “If I get stabbed then I get stabbed.” Such was his outlook on life. Granted, he hadn’t been there beside Ireland when the threats were made, but they hardly bothered him enough to concern themselves over. If Ireland’s brother was that wanted then they would've been tracked down and done away with by now, yet here they were. “I'll deal with it whenever it happens.” The thought that they'd continue running into dead ends or false leads until they found a gravesite was more unsettling, for different reasons between them both. He didn't give a shit about some older brother who ran off to do whatever he wanted, disappointing his parents and young sibling in the process (hah), but Ireland did. That was enough. Dix left that unvoiced and continued nursing his beer. “Where's Charlie? If she doesn't get here soon she's going to play designated driver.” "You mean she wasn't already the designated driver?" Ireland grinned, lifted the bottle and downed a significant portion of it. The memory of Tyler crossed his mind(was enough to make him want to down twenty beers and twenty shots), but Ireland decided to skip talk of that ghost for now, maybe later when he didn't feel as defeated as he did now he would mention it to Dix. Dix clicked their glasses together, returning the grin. “Her loss for not joining us earlier.” |