Post by Capt. Reacher on Jun 22, 2012 22:56:41 GMT -5
ooc; apparently my brain doesn't know how to compute starters tonight doibfiogsdogisdbiobgiosdbgosdo sorry obi
The rumble of the black dodge pickup had settled to a quiet purr when Reacher parked outside of the bar. The city style can't quite beat the places back at home, small and too homey. Quiet in the day and rowdy as hell when the countryside men came in, nothing special in particular, but it works, works enough for her to go there often enough for the staff to know her name, and it does enough for the officer who needs to get out of her apartment for a few hours after one of the more irritating days at work. Dealing with the dogs and getting in new dogs and a higher stack of paperwork for them than Mt. Everest itself. She sits there in the truck for a good minute or so, checks the time on her phone. It's still early on in the evening.
Before leaving the apartment she had changed out of her ACUs, finding it more fitting to be mingling with the other residents of the city in something more casual than that. The woman donned a normal gray T-shirt under a large red flannel overshirt, left unbuttoned and loose on her. Her old faded jeans and her workboots, bare wrists covered with a watch on one and a thick leather bracelet on the other with a plaque reading "ARMY STRONG." Hair in a ponytail, and she had been ready to go.
And what better way to start off the night with a game of pool?
She had walked into the group of men there, joined in the new game, cue in hand and had played through to the end (effectively kicking a few of their asses in doing so), and after a short while, was back at the bar ordering a pepsi and mentally praying that God would come floating from the sky and hand her two Motrin for the headache that work had kindly given her.
The rumble of the black dodge pickup had settled to a quiet purr when Reacher parked outside of the bar. The city style can't quite beat the places back at home, small and too homey. Quiet in the day and rowdy as hell when the countryside men came in, nothing special in particular, but it works, works enough for her to go there often enough for the staff to know her name, and it does enough for the officer who needs to get out of her apartment for a few hours after one of the more irritating days at work. Dealing with the dogs and getting in new dogs and a higher stack of paperwork for them than Mt. Everest itself. She sits there in the truck for a good minute or so, checks the time on her phone. It's still early on in the evening.
Before leaving the apartment she had changed out of her ACUs, finding it more fitting to be mingling with the other residents of the city in something more casual than that. The woman donned a normal gray T-shirt under a large red flannel overshirt, left unbuttoned and loose on her. Her old faded jeans and her workboots, bare wrists covered with a watch on one and a thick leather bracelet on the other with a plaque reading "ARMY STRONG." Hair in a ponytail, and she had been ready to go.
And what better way to start off the night with a game of pool?
She had walked into the group of men there, joined in the new game, cue in hand and had played through to the end (effectively kicking a few of their asses in doing so), and after a short while, was back at the bar ordering a pepsi and mentally praying that God would come floating from the sky and hand her two Motrin for the headache that work had kindly given her.
