revisiting Tears.. a small bit.
Jan. 12th, 2008 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaThe door to Swinehart's opened and Briggs walked in.
He looked around and was not surprised that the place had acquired a dull and unhappy look bout it ever since Bags and family had disappeared. They had not died, they had simply... disappeared, along with the Mansion. There was nothing left of the royal residence but an incredible, gaping hole in the ground, as if the very ground had sucked the out of this world and spit it out somewhere else.
He walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the high seats. Sarah, the head waitress, came over to take his order.
"Where's Damien?" Briggs asked. He was feeling his age, all sixty years of it, in the scars and poorly healed wounds of his soul. The winter had crept in quickly, once the Green Man had shown up, and it was not playing nice with Briggs. It wasn't playing nice at all.
"He's not here." Sarah shrugged. "Hasn't been for a long time. I dunno where he's gone, though I have my suspicions. And I'm guessing that since I've got seniority, I'm the new manager." Briggs grunted. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "So. What'll it be, Briggs?"
She stood there, across the bar from Briggs, her skinny arms crossed across sparse breasts, and she was glaring at him, as if she expected Briggs to challenge her right of management.
"Doesn't matter to me, Sarah," Briggs said. "Damien had his good points, but he also was a snitch and a pain in the ass. The place may be a bit different without him, but it seems that things are going to be a bit different anyway. Ever since...," he nodded back over his shoulder towards the door, "you know."
"So," Sarah said, "you just want a beer or what?"
Briggs sighed. Nobody wanted to talk about the Green Man. Everybody was terrified that what they said would be passed up the ranks or simply heard by the mysterious, seemingly all powerful Green Man. Still, Briggs suspected he knew the man. And with that bastard Beegle back in town, and in some position of power, the City of Tears was headed downhill fast.
"Give me a Nun's Knickers, Sarah." He reached out a hand and touched her. "Heard anything about Bags? Or Pockets? Or Grizelda?"
Sarah looked toward the door, leaned forward and whispered. "Look, Briggs. If anyone knew anything, it would be you. All I know is that yesterday the Mansion was up on the hill. Pockets is supposedly flown the coop in that goofy wagon he was making. As for Bags and Grizelda... well... best we don't talk about them." She turned her head just enough to look around the pub. "There's little ears all around, you know."
Sarah turned away and went about mixing the seven different liquors that made up the Nun's Knickers. When she finished the blue, thick drink, she brought it over to him and pushed it in front of him. "You know that if they're still alive, they'll be back." She raised the mug up from the bar and took the first sip. "And that's all I'm gonna say about that." She placed the mug back on the bar.
Briggs nodded. "Best not to talk about what nothing can do for, Sarah."
"Damn right." Sarah passed her bar cloth across the wood surface. "Course, if there was ever a time for heroes, I'd say this might be it, or coming pretty soon. Wouldn't you say so?"
Briggs tossed back half the Knickers in one gulp. "Damn right," he repeated. "Did I ever tell you the story of one of the greatest heroes this world ever saw? He was a man with no name, really. He would show up when trouble started, wade into it, sort it out, and then disappear again. He was in it for the adventure, apparently."
Sarah looked dubious. "He had no name?"
"Not that he ever let spread around." Briggs took another draw at the Knickers. "Oh, he went by a lot of names, but none that he actually claimed. It was even rumored that he spent some time here, in Tears." Briggs chuckled. "It was rumored that he was well acquainted with BeeJay."
"BeeJay?" Sarah asked. "That crazy woman who rules the Outters?" The Outters were the outcasts of Tears, those people who just didn't quite fit in to mainstream Tears society.
Briggs nodded. "That's the one." He passed the mug holding the rest of the Nun's Knickers over to Sarah. "You want the rest of this? I'm more in the mind for an ale."
Sarah shrugged and finished off the mug. She got a clean mug, went to one of the large barrels and drew out the blond liquid. Briggs took it with a smile and a nod.
"This hero disappeared almost fifty years ago," Briggs continued. "Or seemed to. I tried a couple of times to track him down with no luck. The last I heard as that he may have tried to find the mythical Southern Continent."
Sarah nodded and said "Ah." She was starting to make ready for the crowd that would be showing up after dinner. "Perhaps he really went there," she said from the other side of the pub.
"Maybe." Briggs drank deep. "Maybe he did. If anyone could have made it there, it would have been him." He drank again. "And maybe he'll make it back." He shrugged. "This is exactly the sort of party he would love. Unbeatable foes. Incredibly evil men. Outnumbered hundreds to one." He finished his ale and slid it across the bar to Sarah.
"You said it, Sarah girl." Briggs stood up, walked over to the door and stopped. "If ever there was a time for heroes," he muttered, "this might very well be it." He pushed the door and went out into the winter air.
He looked around and was not surprised that the place had acquired a dull and unhappy look bout it ever since Bags and family had disappeared. They had not died, they had simply... disappeared, along with the Mansion. There was nothing left of the royal residence but an incredible, gaping hole in the ground, as if the very ground had sucked the out of this world and spit it out somewhere else.
He walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the high seats. Sarah, the head waitress, came over to take his order.
"Where's Damien?" Briggs asked. He was feeling his age, all sixty years of it, in the scars and poorly healed wounds of his soul. The winter had crept in quickly, once the Green Man had shown up, and it was not playing nice with Briggs. It wasn't playing nice at all.
"He's not here." Sarah shrugged. "Hasn't been for a long time. I dunno where he's gone, though I have my suspicions. And I'm guessing that since I've got seniority, I'm the new manager." Briggs grunted. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "So. What'll it be, Briggs?"
She stood there, across the bar from Briggs, her skinny arms crossed across sparse breasts, and she was glaring at him, as if she expected Briggs to challenge her right of management.
"Doesn't matter to me, Sarah," Briggs said. "Damien had his good points, but he also was a snitch and a pain in the ass. The place may be a bit different without him, but it seems that things are going to be a bit different anyway. Ever since...," he nodded back over his shoulder towards the door, "you know."
"So," Sarah said, "you just want a beer or what?"
Briggs sighed. Nobody wanted to talk about the Green Man. Everybody was terrified that what they said would be passed up the ranks or simply heard by the mysterious, seemingly all powerful Green Man. Still, Briggs suspected he knew the man. And with that bastard Beegle back in town, and in some position of power, the City of Tears was headed downhill fast.
"Give me a Nun's Knickers, Sarah." He reached out a hand and touched her. "Heard anything about Bags? Or Pockets? Or Grizelda?"
Sarah looked toward the door, leaned forward and whispered. "Look, Briggs. If anyone knew anything, it would be you. All I know is that yesterday the Mansion was up on the hill. Pockets is supposedly flown the coop in that goofy wagon he was making. As for Bags and Grizelda... well... best we don't talk about them." She turned her head just enough to look around the pub. "There's little ears all around, you know."
Sarah turned away and went about mixing the seven different liquors that made up the Nun's Knickers. When she finished the blue, thick drink, she brought it over to him and pushed it in front of him. "You know that if they're still alive, they'll be back." She raised the mug up from the bar and took the first sip. "And that's all I'm gonna say about that." She placed the mug back on the bar.
Briggs nodded. "Best not to talk about what nothing can do for, Sarah."
"Damn right." Sarah passed her bar cloth across the wood surface. "Course, if there was ever a time for heroes, I'd say this might be it, or coming pretty soon. Wouldn't you say so?"
Briggs tossed back half the Knickers in one gulp. "Damn right," he repeated. "Did I ever tell you the story of one of the greatest heroes this world ever saw? He was a man with no name, really. He would show up when trouble started, wade into it, sort it out, and then disappear again. He was in it for the adventure, apparently."
Sarah looked dubious. "He had no name?"
"Not that he ever let spread around." Briggs took another draw at the Knickers. "Oh, he went by a lot of names, but none that he actually claimed. It was even rumored that he spent some time here, in Tears." Briggs chuckled. "It was rumored that he was well acquainted with BeeJay."
"BeeJay?" Sarah asked. "That crazy woman who rules the Outters?" The Outters were the outcasts of Tears, those people who just didn't quite fit in to mainstream Tears society.
Briggs nodded. "That's the one." He passed the mug holding the rest of the Nun's Knickers over to Sarah. "You want the rest of this? I'm more in the mind for an ale."
Sarah shrugged and finished off the mug. She got a clean mug, went to one of the large barrels and drew out the blond liquid. Briggs took it with a smile and a nod.
"This hero disappeared almost fifty years ago," Briggs continued. "Or seemed to. I tried a couple of times to track him down with no luck. The last I heard as that he may have tried to find the mythical Southern Continent."
Sarah nodded and said "Ah." She was starting to make ready for the crowd that would be showing up after dinner. "Perhaps he really went there," she said from the other side of the pub.
"Maybe." Briggs drank deep. "Maybe he did. If anyone could have made it there, it would have been him." He drank again. "And maybe he'll make it back." He shrugged. "This is exactly the sort of party he would love. Unbeatable foes. Incredibly evil men. Outnumbered hundreds to one." He finished his ale and slid it across the bar to Sarah.
"You said it, Sarah girl." Briggs stood up, walked over to the door and stopped. "If ever there was a time for heroes," he muttered, "this might very well be it." He pushed the door and went out into the winter air.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-13 05:33 pm (UTC)YAY!!!!! More Story!!!!!!! *bounce*
Date: 2008-01-13 07:39 pm (UTC)*gasp* THAT's not the way to drink a Nun's Knickers! That's... that's SACRILEDGE!!!
I crack myself up.... *LOL*
Actually, having them drink it without awareness as they both do shows just how unhappily distracted they both are. Well done!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-13 09:24 pm (UTC)