(Untitled)

[yourtieisugly]

'Man sitting at the bar, his long grasshopper legs tucked up on the support struts of the stool beneath him. He looks like the type that frequents this type of bar -- and worse. The kinds of places where gum isn't the only substance you have to worry about scraping off the bottom of your shoes after you leave

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[wizard_dresden]

I need a drink. No, a good, solid, burns-on-the-way-down drink. I've been in this place - wherever it is - for a couple weeks now and I'm no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on than I was then.

Then I spot what seems to be a familiar face. Except, maybe not as familiar as I thought? In this place, it's hard to tell.

I take a seat a few stools down the bar and order myself a bottle of something made from barley and hops from the nice chap behind the thing. When he sets it on the bar, it's open and ready for me to imbibe.

I turn to the man down the bar and nod and mutter a half-gruff "'Evening," to the man. If he's someone I know, he'll tell me to stop being an ass and move the hell over. If he's someone I don't, well, best of the worst case scenarios is that he gives me the finger.

[yourtieisugly]

Behind him, someone drops a couple of quarters into the old jukebox. The machine eats them -- chukka-ching, chukka-ching -- and eventually burps out something by Woody Guthrie. House plants his fist against the side of his face, the heel of his palm digging into the ear closest to the jukebox. It's not that he has anything against Woody Guthrie (honestly, how can you have it in for a guy whom even Dylan called "a genius genius genius"?) but right now, he's not in the mood for twangy folk rock

[wizard_dresden]

"If you don't like the music, I can change it. Or turn it off." Which doesn't answer his question, but I'm working on being friendly.

I don't think I know him, but I did know someone very similar... at least in appearance.

[yourtieisugly]

This guy is too eager. Creepy neighbor eager. House takes one look at the patent leather jacket and dark, McDreamy looks and gets a pretty good opinion of Mr. Music.

"I'm not gay," he says, pinkie finger jutting daintily out from the side of his beer stein, "certifiable, maybe, but not gay. The music's fine." He plugs his lips around the rim of the glass and takes a deep drink. When he comes up, he squeezes the foam off his upper lip with his hand.

"You own this place?"

[doyouhearthem]

The Master had taken to visiting the bar on a regular basis. Not out of any sense of loyalty, or even any desire to drink; he'd learned that, if you hung around long enough, you'd meet all sorts of interesting characters.

The one sitting a few stools away was no exception. There was something about his presence that made itself known, as if the man couldn't hide himself if he tried. The sickly smell of booze wafting off him didn't help.

He nodded to the man and raised a glass of brandy.

[yourtieisugly]

Observation had become a game in the institution. Every Tuesday and Thursday, the little white bus would arrive and a new group of recruits would come bouncing off, like the monkeys on the bed in that kid's nursery song. The game was to identify which new patient had what condition, just by standing beside the window that overlooked the courtyard. Some of them were obvious. You could pretty much pick out the schizos and hardcore crazies becayse they had muscle prodding them toward the door. Less obvious were the hoarders, paranoids and fetishists. Delusions were easy to spot -- they waved their arms in the air like they just didn't care -- and therefore didn't count for points

[doyouhearthem]

This other man was analyzing him as well. He had only the vaguest sense of it, like a brushing against his back. The Master blinked a bit in surprise - he could've sworn the man was too pissed to notice.

He leaned forward. "Rough day, then?"

[yourtieisugly]

House put his thumb down in a puddle of beer and worked his smirk sideways. "What, are you kidding? Any day you get out of the asylum is a good day." He lifts his beer. "I'm celebrating."