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[a_chipped_cup]

[It's been several months with Gold gone. He hasn't returned and there doesn't seem to be any signs that he will return. These facts do nothing but shake Belle's hope and optimism.

There was only one way to bury the pain.]

I don't suppose anyone wants to get a drink with me?

Comments

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[rosswood]

[Hey, he remembers this chick. Kinda. And anyway, he can sympathize with wanting to drown your sorrows.]

rough week?

[a_chipped_cup]

That's putting it mildly.

I sort of want to forget this week entirely.

[rosswood]

recent event fuck you up?

[a_chipped_cup]

No, not the event. I lost someone close to me a few months ago. I had hope he would come back, but it doesn't look like he will.

I guess I'm lonely.

[rosswood]

oh

[Welp. He's officially out of his purview.]

dont people come back like all the time though

[a_chipped_cup]

They do, but sometimes they don't.

Apparently it's not the first time he's left either.

[rosswood]

condolences

[Isn't that what people are supposed to say? Kinda?]

anyway
i'm always up for a drink if you are i guess

[a_chipped_cup]

[It's better than nothing.]

I'll be at the bar. You can find me there.

action

[rosswood]

[He ends up there something life fifteen minutes later. He remembers Belle, and scrapes up a chair beside her.]

Haven't seen you in a bit.

[a_chipped_cup]

No, not since I arrived.

How have you been?

[rosswood]

Eh.

[Short for "well, he got shanked by a twelve-year-old and hasn't slept in like two days," but he's not in the mood for dumping his own problems on her.]

Better than you, I'm guessing.

[a_chipped_cup]

Misery loves company.

Tell me about what has been happening.

[rosswood]

Got killed. It sucked.

[He pours himself a drink and downs it in one go. That's the stuff.]

[a_chipped_cup]

You did? When?

What happened?

[rosswood]

Did something stupid.

[He's purposefully choosing his words carefully here. Somehow he doubts "so I tried to kill this demon thing that looked like a kid" will go over well.]

Guess I was kinda asking for it.

[a_chipped_cup]

I don't understand?

How could you ask for something like that?

[rosswood]

I rushed someone who was carrying a knife, all right?

[No need to specify that they were twelve.]

[a_chipped_cup]

[Okay, that's a bit more complicated. She isn't sure if he wants her to press him further.]

I guess you need a drink too?

[rosswood]

You said it.

[On that note, he pours himself another.]

Been a real hell of a month.

[a_chipped_cup]

Do you think there is any chance of it getting better?

[rosswood]

[He huffs a dry, cynical sound and shuts his eyes.]

I'm not gonna hold my breath. Maybe next month'll be better.

[a_chipped_cup]

That's optimistic, I guess it's better than thinking anything could get worse.

[Even if experience proved otherwise.]

[rosswood]

[He huffs a little skeptical laugh. Yeah, he's a regular Cynical McGrumpyPants on the best of days, so it's a bit atypical for him to be so positive. But mostly it's because he doesn't wanna die again.]

What about you? You died here yet?

[a_chipped_cup]

[She shook her head, well aware that it was a common thing that happened in this world. She had yet to see anyone she cared about go through it.]

No, I almost did though. During Christmas, I caught hypothermia.

[rosswood]

Christ.

[He sets his drink down with a hard clink, shaking his head.]

I think that was going around. No way to stop it, right? You just felt cold wherever you went?