9557/Spinner, and Madwand: Drinking your Troubles Away

Spinner, and Madwand: Drinking your Troubles Away
Date of Scene:	10 January 2022
Location:	Coney Island
Synopsis:	A drunken Spinner and Daniel Chain share a quick conversation.
Cast of Characters:	Comrade Spinner, Daniel Chain

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Comrade Spinner has posed:
     It's a day like so many others in NYC during the winter. Snow falls slowly and steadily across the land blanketing the world in a layer of thick white crystals that make up the snowy blanket.

     Unlike so many other days NYC feels devoid of life almost completely empty. There's so many people who have been removed outright from the city that it feels as a ghost town. Cars left parked on the sides of the roads people having abandoned what they couldn't take with them. Many of the buildings are boarded up almost completely.

     And yet one building remains open: Boris's. Located north of Coney Island this Russian bar keeps the lights on in spite of the danger of remaining, the local population of Little Russia as it's called by the locals having had a surprising number of people choose to stay behind or simply be forgotten all together.

     The neon sign on the building is of a man vomiting into a trashcan before falling into the same bin that he'd just expelled his stomach into, done up in bright neon lights. It's as much a class act as the area inside the building.

     The bar itself is as much a ghost town as the rest of the city with many of the patrons having left, but one figure sets at the bar drinking his troubles away. His face is covered in a pitch black mask with aviator shades over his eyes, and an ushanka hat over his head. He's dressed in a bright yellow tracksuit that covers the rest of his body with three black lines running down the side.

     He's surrounded by empty bottles on all sides, and it looks like even the bartender didn't show up for work today. But luckily as the case would have it, the doors been left unlocked for patrons to come visit and leave behind money for the bar itself, in a big jar, only enforced by the drunk at the bar.

Daniel Chain has posed:
Some would say it was a quirk of fate that brought Daniel to this place. But if he himself was asked, he would respond instead that it was a kink of a thread, one that only he could see. He too is undaunted by the situation at large, but for entirely different reasons. If the fate of the world was at stake, all that would get from him is a simple question: which one?

But that question isn't what's brought him here either. The door will open to reveal the young man dressed in denims, white streak visible in the dark hair even in the building's low light. Standing in the doorway for a moment with his guitar case at his side, blinking at the bar's sole occupant.

"Oh! Apologies. Are you not open tonight?" he inquires politely. Apparently figuring the one person sitting at the bar must be the proprietor, and that's probably the reason he can afford to take drinks. Several of them,

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "Open is strong word." The costumed man offers for a brief moment as he collects himself in front of a bowl of soup which only seems to consist of carrots, potatoes, beef, and some green floating leaves. "An accurate word, but a strong one." His speech has an incredibly thick Russian accent, and slurs heavily with each word. It's clear he's been here drinking for some time.

     The man reeks of alcohol stinking to high heaven with the poison circulating through his blood stream. He also stinks of tobacco though that might be due in part to the cloud of smoke that hangs heavy over this place which apparently didn't get the memo on New York's indoor smoking ban.

     "You take a drink you leave money in jar." He motions over to one side a glass jar with a tight lid that's been set up with a small slit just big enough to fit coins and bills into half full of cash. "You cause trouble I kick your ass."

Daniel Chain has posed:
Daniel blinks. The statement is... well, it's pretty much exactly how bars work, isn't it? Actual cash registers and bouncrs tend to be involved elsewhere, but otherwise that's more or less it, yes? So he figures that yes, this is indeed the proprietor, although he hasn't heard this trade described in quite that way. "I won't cause trouble," he promises, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

He doesn't walk right up to the bar though, or to the slurring Russian . He walks the length of the room, the hand holding the guitar case hanging loosely from one side, the other held aside with two fingers out, as is playing a length of line. Pacing across the way with his eyes at a point in the distance, concentrating for a moment...

...then finally giving a sigh and flicking-away gesture, letting his hand drop as he turns to walk up to the bar proper. Another dead end.

Nor is that the only one here, it seems. Here he pauses as he blinks, getting a good look at the array of bottles around the man. And giving a startled look. Not saying anything just yet, but his expression is clear -- that man *coudln't* have drunk all of that by himself, could he?

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "I- You- I." Comrade Spinner says rather confidently cutting himself off every time he tries to get further in his sentence. He finally lifts up his fork looking at the bowl of soup to pick at it. He misses the bowl completely the first time hitting the table before his second attempt spikes a potato on the end of his fork.

     He slaps the potato against his mask before lifting it up to reveal his mouth covered in stubble. He slips that spud into his mouth and chews away trying to have himself something to eat before he winds up inevitably passing out from alcohol poisoning.

     "You better not cause trouble" He finally manages to say waving a fork with a carrot jabbed on the end to the stranger. "My boss might not be here but I'm here and I say what I want to be saying and that is no trouble."

Daniel Chain has posed:
Ah. Not the worker but an employee? Daniel stares as the Spinner seems to take several moments getting some food into his mouth. He's seen others have difficulty managing their food before, but usually not after that food has already stopped moving. The young man apparently needing a minute to process the whole thing before deciding that something's not quite right about that. Then:

"Are you all right?" His tone is still polite, but the question is a straightforward one. Most decent people would probably feel the need to pretend they don't see someone so thoroughly in their drink. But those kinds of people probably wouldn't be here in the first place. Daniel doesn't shy away either, taking the few steps right over to where Spinner sits at the bar. The cloud of smoke and booze clinging to the other man doesn't seem to bother him -- they wouldn't, given that he's grown up with worse at times. But it does make him cock his head as he realized the person before him has drunk from more than just a few of those arrayed bottles.

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "Am I?" Spinner asks with a bit of a half smile as he looks towards his soup. He lifts the bowl up to his mouth kicking back the contents before setting the bottle back down onto the table. "I am." He decides after having his bowl of soup. He sets up straight looking towards the other man with a cocksure grin. "I'm super thanks for asking." He laughs at his own joke almost falling off the chair before something causes him to catch himself at the last second jolting back up into a sitting position at the bar.

     "Super hero number one." He holds up one finger on his hand. "There some problem with me being super? You're not one of those human supremacists are you?"

Daniel Chain has posed:
Daniel gives a look of alarm as for a moment, it looks as if Spinner is going to become Tumbler, and do so right out of his seat. It doesn't exactly do much for his assertion that he's all right. Fortuately, there is the question he asks to distract for that.

"'Supremacist?'" The word is easy enough to understand; the context less so. "Human supremacist? Meaning, one who thinks humans should rule? What a strange idea." The young moving to take a seat at the bar next to Spinner, absently setting his guitar case on the empty stool beside him. "Come to think of it, humans already rule this world, don't they? They're the ones who hold the positions of power. At least, that's what I was told."

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "Already run everything but they think they're so much better than everyone else." He grabs a bottle near his soup and kicks back the contents chug chug chugging away before dropping the empty at his feet. "We don't want mutates having jobs, or records." He lets out a low bah sound before burping quite loudly.

     "It's disgusting you ask me." He shakes his head bracing himself on the table till his head stops spinning from the excess beer in his system. "I was human too once, now I'm better." He chuckles loudly under his breath.

Daniel Chain has posed:
Daniel blinks again as Spinner chugs the bottle right down. The young man doesn't drink himself, but if it tastes anything like it smells, it can't taste that good even if the way Spinner gulps it down suggests otherwise. "You don't look better," he notes, his tone matter-of-fact. "You look ill. I've seen that humans enjoy drinking poison in moderation for different effects, but this is more than a moderate amount." Casting that dropped bottle another look, and all its mates as well, before looking back up to Spinner. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

For some, that might come off as an accusation. But Daniel continues to regard Spinner with that look of simple curiosity. "If so, this isn't a good way to do it," he continues. "From what I've seen, this type of poison isn't a fast-acting one. Your body will most likely reject it before enough can accumulate to take effect."

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "It's fun." Spinner offers as he leans towards the figure beside himself before leaning back to a stand. "I do it because it's fun." He looks down towards his soup. "Can't you see how much fun I'm to be having?"

     He lifts himself up out of his seat and squats down on the chair. It's not a comfortable looking way to set but he seems to enjoy it a bit more as he forces himself to properly balance in spite of his drunken state. It's an almost superhuman effort to remain squatting with how intoxicated he is. He reaches across the bar and starts to pop sunflower seeds from the bar leaving the shells to hit the ground one after another.

     "Fun." He repeats as if to convince himself with a bit of a lopsided smile. He pops a few more sunflower seeds into his mouth dropping more black shells onto the ground.

Daniel Chain has posed:
"Fun?" Daniel repeats, somewhat dubiously. Cocking his head as Spinner squats like that -- something about the way he's perched seems oddly familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on it. The statement draws his attention away from it anyway. "Fun... "

And apparently decides, there's really one way to test the truth of that. And that's to try it out himself.

He pulls a wad of crumbled bills from his denim jacket, peering at the jar for a moment. And apparently deciding a couple of fives is enough, stuffing them down before walking the length of the bar, and ducking down and up to behind it. Self-serve, right? Which just leaves the question: serve himself what, exactly? Walking down the length of the shelves as he peers at the bottles with various shapes and colors, most of them probably of dubious quality, all of them completely foreign to him.

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     Spinner looks across the bar as he bobs his head lightly he looks up towards the ceiling for a moment before reaching into his tracksuit to pull out a remote and turn on the music. Hardbass begins to fill the air from the speaker system causing him to gain a bit more mellow expression as he bobs his head in time with the music.

     "Smoking, drinking, grooving, enjoying life while the world tells you to die." He chuckles to himself perfectly perched on top of his chair as he looks off to the wall of bottles of booze. He warbles his eyes a bit trying to focus. "Bottom shelf is the cheap stuff good for getting drunk, and not much else."

Daniel Chain has posed:
Cheap stuff? Daniel cocks his head as he considers for a moment Then pulls out another crumbled bill and moves to tuck it in the jar before reaching up for one of the higher ones. Taking down a bottle of amber-colored whiskey before rummaging arond and finding a clean.... mostly-clean glass. Bnching up his sleeve a bit before opening the bottle, and pouring out a small amount to start with. Picking up the glass and sniffing experimentally at it. Finally taking a gulp...

"!! " And nearly dropping the glass, but instead clacking it back down on the bar as he doubles over, turning his head aside to give a long, wheezing exhale that promptly becomes a coughing fit, the whole of his throat and chest feeling like it's on fire.

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "The burning means it's working" Spinner offers as he pops a few more sunflower seeds. Already there's a collection of them at the foot of his stool along with the bottles that he'd emptied. "You break the glass you pay for it." He manages to slur out as he looks over just chomping down on those sunflower seeds as he leans a bit forward on his chair relaxing in his squatting position.

     "Sometimes I drink to forget, sometimes I drink because it's fun, and sometimes I drink because it helps me sleep." He just rambles off taking long pauses in his speech before finally reaching into his hat to pull out a cheap cigarette to shove into the corner of his mouth. A lighter is pulled out soon after and he ignites the cigarette puffing away.

Daniel Chain has posed:
Doubled over like that, Spinner may or may not see Daniel press a hand to his chest and scrawl a patten there. The burning in his throat and gut eases a moment later, but that's only the surface effect that eases. He's been poisoned before, and by things far more venomous; he can already feel the alcohol sinking in, but can feel it's mild enough that, for the moment, there's no cause for alarm. And instead, takes a deep breath of smoke-fouled air before straightening up, absently bracing a hand against the bar.

"Forget... ?" That's the one that Daniel focuses on, cocking his head at Spinner for a moment. Seeming to chew that over.. and then nodding slowly. "My father, he... once told me there are things that some... may choose to forget. Things that bring too much pain to remember. That sometimes people would seek to remove or destroy the memory, rather than carry it. Is that what you mean... ?"

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "You make it too complicated." He chuckles to himself popping a few more sunflower seeds as he squats on that stool. "Bad thing happens, I drink, I get drunk, bad thing doesn't bother me so much no more." He shrugs his shoulders before popping a few more sunflower seeds.

     The truth about how he's able to hold so much liqueur may have something to do with his tendency to stick to the bottom shelf and the light beer but no one needs to know that.

     He takes a long drag from his cigarette looking across the bar to the turned off television set. He wobbles on his seat but somehow manages to maintain his perch on his chair. "Sometimes, it helps me to be sleeping other times it helps me to be so drunk I can't remember my name." He chuckles to himself as he wobbles lightly in his stance popping another sunflower seed.

Daniel Chain has posed:
Daniel takes a moment to consider all that, absently reaching to pick up the glass again. Taking a smaller, more experimental sip, and grimacing. Whatever the 'fun' part of the drinking experience is, he decides the flavor definitely isn't it. It may not be gutter-wash level of whiskey, but it still tastes harsh and acidic to him.

"I'm sorry," he finally offers after a moment. "I just don't understand. I've known terrible things," he adds, by way of explanation. "But I was always taught to learn from them, not to forget them. To let them sharpen my fangs, instead of blunting or breaking them. I... " He trails off for a moment, then shakes his head. "I won't say your way is wrong. Maybe it's different here? But I don't understand it myself."

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     Spinner idly pops a few more sunflower seeds. "You don't have to understand." In that thick accent that makes him almost impossible to understand, mixed with a lot of slurring of his speech. "I drink, you do you, and there'll be more for me." He pops even more sunflower seeds into his mouth cracking them with a great deal of expertise in his motions. He bobbs his head with the music tossing the shelled sunflower seeds into the air so he can try and catch them.

     Smoke rolls from the corners of his mouth as he looks over towards the wall with a distant expression on his face he's off in his own mind even as he speaks to the other man still somehow managing to squat with almost perfect stability. "Just don't try and convince me to leave."

Daniel Chain has posed:
Finally Daniel smiles, as that last is said. "No, I will not do that," he assures the other man. "But, I should go. The one I'm looking for isn't here, and I should try looking a little more before it's time for me to sleep." And so saying, sets the glass down and crosses the bar once more, moving to retrieve his guitar case. Lifting it up off the stool and turning to go --

-- but he pauses once more. And turns to face Spinner full, giving him a curious look. "-Do- you want to forget? I've never crafted a forgetting before. But it shouldn't be too difficult, if you'd like me to try it."

Comrade Spinner has posed:
     "Sometimes my friend I do, other times I do not, other other times I want soup." Spinner offers as he popps a few more sunflower seeds already having completely cleared out the bowl in front of him and the one meant for the seat next to him. He looks like he's about to fall over at any minute from the booze but he's holding himself together.

     "Glowing angels attacking new york make me want to forget, but you know what makes me want to remember? How good this light beer tastes, is like cabbage mixed with" He trails off into a sentence that's completely unintelligible as he looks towards the table.

Daniel Chain has posed:
As with most of this conversation, Daniel needs a long moment to turn that over, before finally deciding the answer is 'no.' At least, not in while. And as he said, he hasn't really done it before, so doesn't feel comfortable pressing the issue or trying to offer specifics when he's not sure enough of himself to offer. So instead:

"If you change your mind and we meet again, let me know. I'll go ahead and give it a try." Neither of them has given the other their name, but odds are both have left enough of an impression that they won't be forgetting each other on sight. And so Daniel dips his head before turning, making his way for the door.