4788/Hell's Bar

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Revision as of 10:23, 21 January 2021 by WikiAdmin (talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2021/01/19 |Location=Josie's Bar |Synopsis=Two curmudgeons meet, it goes about as well as one might expect. |Cast of Characters=2126,2252 |pretty=y...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Hell's Bar
Date of Scene: 19 January 2021
Location: Josie's Bar
Synopsis: Two curmudgeons meet, it goes about as well as one might expect.
Cast of Characters: Hope Svelgate, Jim Hammond




Hope Svelgate has posed:
There are all sorts of elements that lurk among the streets of Hell's Kitchen, whether it is the gangs of organized crime, the East Asian shadow warriors of The Hand, or darker things still. Hope belongs the last category. Stories of a tall blonde haired witch became something of an urban legend on these streets in the late 2010s, a figure that just might come to the aid of children when dark magic was involved and all hope seemed lost. Though those stories have died off in the past two years, since Loki's invasion.

Now there is a woman dressed in leather drinking in a local dive bar. While she isn't going out of her way to attract attention, it can be hard to escape notice when you are 6'4" and built like a valkyrie.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Valkyrie. The comparison does occur to Jim Hammond, who fought a couple. Winged horses react to fire much the same as their Earthbound cousins. Jim arrived by train from Brooklyn. Flying was out of the question. None of his civilian clothing was fireproof. He left the small rom he shared at the 'Y' in Brooklyn when he came out to Steve and the other men there were concerned about a fire hazard and sharing rooms with a machine. Never mind the machine was indistinguishable from a human without lab testing, a former policeman and a veteran. Now he was simply Torch and not even sure about the human part anymore. Sitting at a table in the back, drinking a whisky with no real effect on him Jim gets bored and plays with fire, snuffing the wick of the candle at his table and then calling it back with a soft whistle. He looks over at the empty pool table and thinks, why not? The android gets up flicking a wayward flame from his finger back onto the candle and walks over to inspect a cue stick, rolling it along the table.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
"Aquavit." The valkyrie-esque woman tells the bartender, looking vaguely displeased when she is informed dive bars in the United States don't normally carry the traditional Norwegian specialty liquer. "Fine, Vodka then." Though one might swore she said Brannvin at first. "Make it a souble or whatever you call it." Her demeanor is brusque.

Accepting her alcohol, her eyes briefly scan her surroundings, more paranoid habbit than looking for anything in particular, before she slugs back a throat burningly large swallow of the clear liquer.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond looks up from racking some balls at the exchange and watches Hope down her vodka. "That's the way to do it!" he says encouragingly. He's gotten kind of tired of modern woman. Merlot, Moscato and all that other glorified grape juice. Nice to see some people still knew how to get lit up. Hah. He racks the balls up, chooses his cue stick and breaks wit a sharp crack. He walks around the table sizing up the situation. Eye and coordination was important wen you lobbed fireballs. Pool helped a little. Having an android brain to plot the angles helped too. The fact was he liked pool and used to play it often. As he passes his lonely table he grabs his drink and similar to the blonde valkyrie, knocks it back, enjoying the burn.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
The rest of the vodka disappears soon after in a similar fashion and Hope orders another. Enough of a burn and she might almost feel it, though mortal alcohol barely did anything for her anymore. Her gaze is drawn to the sound of the raised voice in her direction. Her face seems to be in an almost perpetual scowl but there is perhaps the smallest hint of amusement there, this human at least seems to enjoy his revelry. The game is foreign to her though, she's seen the table but has little understanding of its purpose. She knocks back another double vodka, trying to feel something, but it is fleeting.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond looks up from his little game. He looks at the truly formidable woman at the bar. The last woman he knew who was that tall and muscular tried to kill him and several other heroes a couple of times. He sees the trace of amusement though and feels a bit drawn to her. He takes his drink and walks over to the bar. He doesn't come closer than a yard, respecting her space.

"I hope I wasn't out of line. I was just applauding your gusto. If I was out of line, sorry and let me make it up to you. Buy you another round? My name is Jim." He holds a hand out to Hope.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
And now she is being approached. Hope Svelgate does not come off as much of a people person, in fact most of the bar gives her a pretty wide berth. It is a seeming testament to Jim's bravery. The remains of her vodka are knocked back again as she looks the man over, silent at first. She glances down at the hand and back at him like she is not familar with the gesture or perhaps the context. "My name is Hope. I will take that drink." As brusque as well.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond gestures for another round to the barkeep. He sets Hope up with another vodka, Jim with another whisky. Jim nurses his drink, speaking between sips. "I went into a liquor store the other day. There was apple flavored vodka, pumpkin spice vodka, cheesecake flavored vodka. I remember when people drank vodka to get drunk... although you seem to be holding up well after getting the whole nine yards. If I'm talking too much I'll go. Maybe you're here to be alone, just let me know." He seems to be studying the depths of his shot glass more than Hope.

"You don't know any rooms around here, do you? I need a place and I'm suffering from that disease fundzahlo."

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Hope reaches for the glass and knocks back half of it, "The point of Brannvin is the Brann, the burn." She adds changing the word to English, "It does not need cheesecake." She seems to agree, perhaps the most she has talked all night. The other half of the vodka vanishes, though her cheeks don't even seem red, talk about tolerance. "I am not from around here." She replies when he asks about rooms. "But there seem to be many abandoned structures in this city."

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond stops sipping his drink and sets it down with a clatter. He looks over at Hope with fire in his eye (though not literally).

"What a roundabout way to tell me to haunt a house. Seriously, I told you I'd leave. You're not a sparkling conversationalist and I wasn't interested in anything else. Enjoy your drink and your evening, or keep doing whatever the hell it is you're doing." Jim throws a couple of bills on the bar for the drinks. He walks back to the pool table and begins sinking balls, the cue stick cracking sharply.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Hope glances in Jim's direction with the briefest hint of blue flame in her eyes, "To haunt a building you would need to be dead and you are clearly not."

She knocks back the last of her vodka, though makes a face like the drink doesn't taste as good anymore or perhaps the burn just isn't quite enough to actually make her feel anything.

Tossing some money of her own on the bar, the leather clad valkyrie-esque woman rises from her seat and turns to leave, making her way out into the cold moonlit night beyond.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond calls after her, "I was!"

Another crack of the cue stick.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Hope stops in the doorway of the bar and turns, something about that apparently caught her attention, "You were what? Dead?" There is disbelief written across her expression as she stands silhouetted against the darkness beyond. "That isn't something one just comes back from." The cold streaming in from the open door doesn't seem to bother her in the slightest despite being underdressed for the weather. There is a distinctly ominous quality to the whole thing.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond merely holds up two fingers. Two times. He continues playing pool and doing pretty well at at it. He catches the bartender's eye and orders another drink. "There's a trick to it for sure. Pull up a stool and I'll tell you, tiny." Now he smirks.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Cold eyes regard Jim for what might seem like an eternity but in actuality only lasts a few moments. Then, without so much as a word, Hope turns and vanishes into the darkness of the night. However one thing is certain, Death has taken notice.

Jim Hammond has posed:
Jim Hammond takes his drink and looks at it. No one watches as the rotgut bursts into flame. He lifts it in a toast to Hope.

"F*** you very much Queen Kong."

The tall blond man drinks it down, a little flame flickering at his mouth and goes back to his game.