A Bar on the Mainland | Sunday Evening

[pursuedthestars]

Sometimes, Jim went out to bars to forget. Sometimes, he went out to bars to escape. Sometimes, he just went to bars to have fun. Tonight was the latter. There was nothing wrong save for the fact that Jim hadn't gone out and had a little fun in awhile.

The bar was fairly nondescript. Not seedy but not posh. The bartender was female which meant it was pretty easy to flirt his way into not being carded when he started to order drinks. It was easy and it helped that she was pretty and funny. He wasn't going to go any further but flirting was allowed. That wasn't against any rules that he remembered.

So, he started drinking and he kept flirting. He was on his fourth (maybe fifth) drink and well into a story about just how agile some female aliens were (he figured the bartender was humoring him) when someone's massively meaty hand landed on his shoulder.

"Yer in my seat." When Jim turned around, he had to look up into the face of a man with a mustache that was damp with beer, a bulbous nose and ruddy skin. "Move."

"That's okay," Jim said, patting the man's hand comfortingly. "There's other seats for you to choose from, man. Take a pick. I'll buy you a drink."

The man with the hand didn't move. His grip tightened. "Move."

"Now, that's really not very nice," Jim said, shaking his head. "We should talk about this. Maybe ask the seat if it wants you to sit on it? I mean, you're a rather large man. I think you'd suffocate it."

The man's face screwed up into what Jim thought was anger and Jim knew what was coming next. They were not going to have a tea party. Jim decided to be proactive and swung a fist into the man's gut. The man stumbled but since he had a hold of Jim, Jim went stumbling with him.

That just made it oh so easy for the other guy to bash his other huge fist into Jim's face. Blood flowed from his nose and onto his lips. He spit it towards the other guy and brought a knee up to his groin. That, at least, meant Jim was free of the other guy's hand. And so he decided to tackle the other -- okay, that didn't work since the guy was large, Jim just bounced off of him and hit the floor hard.

Not five seconds later, he was hauled up and socked in the gut. Twice. He was going to puke, he was sure. All that wasted booze! Jim didn't even realize he was being dragged somewhere else because he was too busy trying to not throw up all over the place.

Jim was so sad he didn't even know this guy's name. Considering the absolute intimacy of this beating, he thought he should know. But then, Mr. Man was bringing a fist down on the back of his neck and knocking the wind completely out of him. He saw his blood on the floor. That wasn't good.

When Mr. Man, sent him crashing through the bar's front door and onto the street outside, Jim landed on his side and winced. He stayed there for a few minutes, people passing him by and then he rolled onto his back.

And started laughing. "Guy really likes his seat," he croaked before coughing painfully.

[NFB but open if someone happens to be at this random bar or wants to call him. I finally got around to doing this since I'd been saying it and saying it for so long. The icons needed to be used.]

Comments

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

April hadn't been at this specific bar, but rather, she'd been on her way to another bar, which didn't card very carefully and didn't generally have large creepy guys who beat up randos for being in the wrong seat. But then there was that little display with a guy she thought she recognized from town getting flung out of a bar, so she was pretty much stopping in her tracks now, yes. She wasn't startled often, but this was something that was worth looking up from her phone for.

She peered down at him. "Dude, are you okay?"

[pursuedthestars]

"Yep. Fine." Jim blinked a few times, trying to focus on who was asking the question. "My liver's not on the street beside me or anything, right?"

Just checking.

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"Not unless your liver is a... Burger King wrapper and a ripped-up transit pass," April reported, making a show of shining her phone at the ground.

"You need some help?" Seriously, he looked terrible.

[pursuedthestars]

He probably did but he wasn't admitting that just yet. The ground was comfortable and the stars looked pretty tonight. He wiped some blood away with his shirt and blinked again.

"I know you, don't I?" She was vaguely recognizable even if he wasn't thinking very clearly right now. "Mom?"

He was joking so it wasn't all that bad, at least.

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"I think (http://fh-trips.livejournal.com/94819.html?thread=18418275#t18418275) you told a bar full of people I was like a million years old last year," April filled in helpfully. "Can't be sure. On account of how gross your face looks right now."

Encouraging, April.

She snapped her gum. "Did you try that on someone who likes to punch people this time?"

[pursuedthestars]

"My face is beautiful."

Right now, it was anything but. Jim coughed a few times and contemplated sitting up. That just seemed like so much work right now even if he was pretty sure he could do it.

"And I didn't start this." Okay, he'd thrown the first punch but still. He'd tried to be peaceful. "We just had a slight disagreement in seating arrangements."

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"Your face is a disaster," April shared kindly. "But congratulations on winning the most coveted seat in the bar. You get to sprawl out and everything. It looks super comfy." Nope. Nope, none of that was helpful, April, thank you.

[pursuedthestars]

"The view is great," Jim slurred, gesturing up towards the sky with one very uncoordinated arm. "The stars and the clouds and the smog. Just awesome."

His arm flopped lamely back down to the ground.

"You can come join me if you're jealous."

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"I would, but my dog peed on this exact corner this morning," April deadpanned. It might have even been true! Who knew? "Also, this city is full of idiots who think the sidewalk is a bike lane."

She didn't really want to wind up with bike tire tracks on her face. Even if it would look kind of cool.

"Do you need help sitting up or something?" she offered reluctantly. "One-time only offer." It was a good thing she didn't like her clothing that much, or she wouldn't even be offering on account of not wanting to get blood on it.

[pursuedthestars]

"...that would probably be helpful," he admitted after a moment. "I'm pretty sure I could do it but it would hurt. Just do it slowly. I don't need anyone dislocating my shoulder or anything too."

Jim coughed a few more times but he at least covered his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt so he didn't get blood or anything everywhere.

"Even if I will lose my view of the stars."

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"Okay, c'mon," April muttered, already regretting her decision to help as she crouched down and tried to haul him into a seated position. Gently-ish. "You're not gonna barf on me, are you?"

[pursuedthestars]

"I might," he mumbled, planting a hand on the ground and using that to steady himself while she gave him some help. Amazingly enough, he didn't puke when he was eventually sitting up though he did cough and wince several times. In this position, his neck and ribs burned.

He sniggered again. "Thanks for your help. And you didn't get puked on because I'm so thankful."

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

"I'm honored," April drawled. "Is that better at all...?"

She eyed him carefully, then snorted lightly when she realized that she was looking for the signs you saw in dogs when they were uncomfortable. She really needed to hang out with more humans.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie's Sunday evening was much less exciting. It consisted mostly of getting stuff in order for the coming week, and researching popular music of the time period she was living in.

And on this one occasion, sending Jim a picture that showed off her new haircut. Without any commentary attached because it kind of spoke for itself, didn't it?

[pursuedthestars]

Jim considered not answering his phone, he really did. He'd managed to pull himself into a sitting position and was sitting against the wall of the bar. The bleeding had stopped but he was getting cold and he hurt a lot.

He blinked at the picture and it made him smile despite everything. He could text, sure. It was just going to be a little slow.

nice look.

Spelled correctly and everything.

[whenshewasnice]

So not a complete disaster?

She knew it wasn't. She was still going to ask, because she wasn't immune to liking the odd compliment every now and then.

[pursuedthestars]

nope.

Short and to the point but still spelled correctly.

i like it.

[whenshewasnice]

The spelling was definitely good. The rest was mildly catching her attention.

Just keeping things short and simple tonight?

Not that his texts were ever overly long.

[pursuedthestars]

am i ever that wordfy?

Okay, he didn't catch that typo before he sent it but everyone was allowed one!

[whenshewasnice]

They were! Also, Natalie was mostly just amused by it.

Wordfy? A loan word from some alien language I should learn?

[pursuedthestars]

nah. typo. sorry.

And he continued on being wordy. His fingers were a little cold and his ribs were aching. He figured he'd try and get up soon and head home.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie had preferred her alien language theory.

You should get me alien language textbooks from your world anyway. Are you tired or something?

[pursuedthestars]

No. Just in a lot of pain. And covered in a lot of blood.

i will when i go back home. and not tired.

[whenshewasnice]

So just distracted? Lazy?

Just curious.

[pursuedthestars]

yeah.

To which he was answering affirmatively, he didn't even know.