►►►02 : Settling In
A: [Phone]
Location: 462 Stone St.
Late morning.
So, people you know showing up, except they're from your past before you met and have no idea who you are. Does that happen often around here? Timeline discrepancies? Any rhyme or reason to it? Also, do any other poor fellas have any advice for dealing with a fucking drone wife? [If you listen close, you can hear in the background a drone's voice, protesting cheerfully, "James, darling, your breakfast is going to be late, the door seems to be locked-"] I don't think I can keep the laundry room blocked off forever... I'm running out of clean shirts.
Oh. Steve, Pete? Drinks tonight? On me. I'll be at the bar at 6.
B: Action
Location: Your house (or workplace? Idc.)
Afternoon
[You may or may not have called for a mechanic to come fix something that's broken, but either way, you've got one knocking at your door, toolbox in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. He's kind of scruffy and broad and in an oil-spotted shirt; he definitely looks the part of a mechanic, even if it isn't his usual job, which you can probably guess from the slight scowl on his face that just won't go away.
Work sucks.] Someone called about a broken... washing machine? Fuck if I can read this slip... Is this even the right address?...
C: Action
Location: The bar
Evening, after 6
[Bucky's actually gone home for a shower and a change of clothes before heading out to the bar, so he doesn't look so scruffy and grease-covered anymore as he sits at the bar, a couple of empty shot-glasses in front of him and a full one in his hand. Cheap whiskey, neat. He's a fairly no frills drinker. He's expecting company, but who knows when or if they'll show up. Right now, he's alone.
Care to bother him as he drowns his sorrows?]
Location: 462 Stone St.
Late morning.
So, people you know showing up, except they're from your past before you met and have no idea who you are. Does that happen often around here? Timeline discrepancies? Any rhyme or reason to it? Also, do any other poor fellas have any advice for dealing with a fucking drone wife? [If you listen close, you can hear in the background a drone's voice, protesting cheerfully, "James, darling, your breakfast is going to be late, the door seems to be locked-"] I don't think I can keep the laundry room blocked off forever... I'm running out of clean shirts.
Oh. Steve, Pete? Drinks tonight? On me. I'll be at the bar at 6.
B: Action
Location: Your house (or workplace? Idc.)
Afternoon
[You may or may not have called for a mechanic to come fix something that's broken, but either way, you've got one knocking at your door, toolbox in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. He's kind of scruffy and broad and in an oil-spotted shirt; he definitely looks the part of a mechanic, even if it isn't his usual job, which you can probably guess from the slight scowl on his face that just won't go away.
Work sucks.] Someone called about a broken... washing machine? Fuck if I can read this slip... Is this even the right address?...
C: Action
Location: The bar
Evening, after 6
[Bucky's actually gone home for a shower and a change of clothes before heading out to the bar, so he doesn't look so scruffy and grease-covered anymore as he sits at the bar, a couple of empty shot-glasses in front of him and a full one in his hand. Cheap whiskey, neat. He's a fairly no frills drinker. He's expecting company, but who knows when or if they'll show up. Right now, he's alone.
Care to bother him as he drowns his sorrows?]