Drinks. John wanted some alien booze and he didn't care what color it was. He'd even take the blue Star Wars milk on steroids.
It's one of those days.
John woke up knowing it was one of "those days" when he jerked awake from a nightmare he couldn't remember and banged his head on the top of those Stacy nostril-bed things. He remembered sitting there, sweat beading on his forehead and not even sure why he was gasping like he'd run a damn marathon. It didn't get much better than that even on the trip down to this planet, which he tried to explain to Aeryn looked way too much like Wild Wild West to the point he was half-expecting to get jumped by a giant spider or something, and all he got was one of those looks of hers. Like he was losing it again. So John could guess he was crazy for actually seeing that movie. But she was looking at him like he was having one of those episodes and today John wasn't in the mood for it. He made it a point to try to ignore that itch in the back of his head, the whisper of a slithering voice in his ear. The urge to swat it away only grew stronger as they finally stepped out onto the planet.
John made it through the clothes fitting before he announced to Aeryn, "Don't know about you, but I need a drink."
Maybe if he get himself nice and buzzed, he'd be able to shove everything to the side. Focus. Get it under control. John didn't wait for Aeryn to give him her ex-PK stamp of approval -- he headed out to the...actual saloon (oh my god, seriously?) and parked himself right there at the counter with his alien booze.
It's not going to help, you know.
John fumbled with his glass, nearly spilling booze on his crotch.
He turned at the voice in his ear, only to find that everyone was minding their own business and there was no way anyone could've jumped up that quick and ducked back down. Spooked, John turned back to his drink and decided to hell with nursing the stuff.
Re: Saloons & Bars
It's one of those days.
John woke up knowing it was one of "those days" when he jerked awake from a nightmare he couldn't remember and banged his head on the top of those Stacy nostril-bed things. He remembered sitting there, sweat beading on his forehead and not even sure why he was gasping like he'd run a damn marathon. It didn't get much better than that even on the trip down to this planet, which he tried to explain to Aeryn looked way too much like Wild Wild West to the point he was half-expecting to get jumped by a giant spider or something, and all he got was one of those looks of hers. Like he was losing it again. So John could guess he was crazy for actually seeing that movie. But she was looking at him like he was having one of those episodes and today John wasn't in the mood for it. He made it a point to try to ignore that itch in the back of his head, the whisper of a slithering voice in his ear. The urge to swat it away only grew stronger as they finally stepped out onto the planet.
John made it through the clothes fitting before he announced to Aeryn, "Don't know about you, but I need a drink."
Maybe if he get himself nice and buzzed, he'd be able to shove everything to the side. Focus. Get it under control. John didn't wait for Aeryn to give him her ex-PK stamp of approval -- he headed out to the...actual saloon (oh my god, seriously?) and parked himself right there at the counter with his alien booze.
It's not going to help, you know.
John fumbled with his glass, nearly spilling booze on his crotch.
He turned at the voice in his ear, only to find that everyone was minding their own business and there was no way anyone could've jumped up that quick and ducked back down. Spooked, John turned back to his drink and decided to hell with nursing the stuff.