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+---- Thread: Toledo Lounge (/showthread.php?tid=15734)
Toledo Lounge - BLACKSTALKER JC - 10-21-2009
The man in the black cloak came into the bar.
as usual, he looked around the bar not acknowledging
anyone. Instead of taking a seat at the bar, he took a
seat in a dark corner of the room.
Toledo Lounge - JW.corsair - 10-21-2009
A grizzled old Veteran walks into the bar. A man in the corner sees him. Herman Mulder 'XO of the Repentance shouts' Captain Tiberius come sit over here.
Captain Tiberius nods to his crew, but says "Not this time XO".
He sees the figure in the dark corner of the room, and nods an acknowledgment. The bartender says "Captain this is an unexpected surprise, What would you like to drink. Captain Tiberius answers "Anything stiff." He takes his drink goes and sits in a booth by himself.
Toledo Lounge - BLACKSTALKER JC - 10-22-2009
J.shepard walks into the room, takes a look around
and heads to the bar where he orders himself a drink.
he looks around and spots an old freind of his in the corner.
he walks over takes a seat next to him.
Toledo Lounge - Jack Ryan - 10-24-2009
![[Image: 2njg95i.jpg]](http://i38.tinypic.com/2njg95i.jpg)
Katie MacDonald walks into the bar, fresh from her first recon mission into the Omicron Iota system.
She walks over to the bar, and orders a Bretonian Malt, while she's drinking, she keeps smiling to herself.
She walks over to the bar, and orders a Bretonian Malt, while she's drinking, she keeps smiling to herself.
Toledo Lounge - Jeremy Hunter - 10-24-2009
Jeremy slocuhed into the bar, grinning from ear to ear. Izzy had done well. He had caused some minor idsturbance in New York. SOme people had heard what he wanted to say...then Chris dangen coming in, acting like a pirate, with Landlubbers and stuff. Hilarious, Jeremy thought. He drank his soda and motioned for more.
Toledo Lounge - Rodent - 10-24-2009
Freisener walked into the bar, tired.
He did not want to sleep, the nightmares were getting worse and more intimate by the day.
Asking for a liberty ale,he sat down in a corner, hoping to meet someone he could talk to.
Toledo Lounge - JW.corsair - 10-24-2009
Capt.Tiberius opens a communicator, listens to the report. *Repentance ready for duty again*
He takes his drink and downs it in one swig. He gets up and walks out seeing the pilots thinking
*all so young and brave* and heads back to the front lines.
Toledo Lounge - Jack Ryan - 10-24-2009
Katie took a look around, and when she say Freisener, she beamed, and walked over with a slight skip in her step.
Sitting down beside the aging Captain, she put her drink on the table and asked how he was doing, before taking a drink of her malt.
Toledo Lounge - Rodent - 10-24-2009
Freisener sighed as he saw the young recruit, Kate, moving towards him.
"I am fine", He lied. The vision swam before him now, the vision of many dead bodies littering a station floor.... to shake these memories off, he began to speak.
"I hope your experience so far has been good? And you had good rest after a long shift? I will tell you one thing, most order pilots do not sleep more than 4 hours, either cause they cannot or because they are too dedicated...."
Toledo Lounge - Sprolf - 10-24-2009
The Doctor was still leaning over the counter, like some tree whose base had rotted and fell, braced against some other tree in the forest. His eyes were closed, or just staring downward at his elbows, at the aged black sleeves of his coat. A glass in his hand, clear and crystal, with an amber liquid in it, contrasted against the worn and faded rest of his figure. It was clear, clean, bright, pure. The Doctor shrugged and tipped his head back, swallowing the last of the whiskey with a deft toss of his hand.
He placed it back on the counter, watching a few drops cling to the side of the glass before disappearing down the side in a streak of gold.
The Doctor stared at this for several more minutes, reflecting on the fact that if one thing had been constant in his entire life, it was the drop of whiskey on the side of the glass. Not the full glass, as there was never a full glass. But there was always the almost-but-not-quite-empty glass with that last drop to yield, somewhere. No matter where he was or where he'd been, or what his situation was in life, he'd always been able to drink, to set that almost-empty glass down.
The Doctor reached for the bottle of whiskey again, but his hand stopped as the neck of the bottle tapped the shot glass with a clear little clink. The Doctor stared at Freisener as he walked into the bar - more like floated, ghostly, incorporeal. The man looked as haggard and drawn as usual, burdened down by whatever thoughts and memories were his and his alone. They were kindred spirits almost, he knew, old monoliths worn and weathered by the ages and the weather and crumbling, but still standing.
Now was not the time to talk to him, the Doctor knew.
He also realized that now was not the time for himself to be talking to anyone. He was in this bar for likely the same reason Freisener was, and that was to get drunk without talking to anyone much. This decided, the Doctor and he turned back to leaning on the bar, pouring that little golden trickle of whiskey into his glass, and thinking those thoughts that were foreign to any man but himself.
Or perhaps himself and Freisener.