ArchivedLogs:The Good Stuff

The Good Stuff
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Jane, Trib	2015-02-03 A meeting at the Green Carnation. Pub, not swinger's club.
Location <NYC> Green Carnation Pub - Gramercy Park
The Green Carnation Pub is a pub that has one very special rule that differentiates it from its competition - and, indeed, from any other bar of any sort. At this pub, drinks cost you half price... if, and only if, you buy them for someone else at the bar who you didn't come with. As such, the drinks at the Green Carnation Pub tend to be more expensive than they are everywhere else, but you get more free booze. Their food is quite tasty, for a pub, if not exactly haute cuisine. The interior is decorated with light colored wood, and a long, polished wooden bar table lined with stools. There are booths and tables for guests who would rather not sit or eat at the bar, as well as couches to rest on, but all are arranged to give as wide as possible a view of the rest of the restaurant. In many ways, the Green Carnation Pub is one of the least private bars you are ever likely to visit. Green Carnation is not the busiest bar in New York, but the crowd that gathers there are largely regulars. It has a warm atmosphere, with food that won't have you running right for the bathroom - and occasionally people come and are quite surprised by its traditions. Even though they are displayed, prominently, on the drink and food menus. Iolaus isn't exactly a regular, but he's no stranger to the pub either. Settled at a table in the corner, with a familiar shadow one table over watching the room curtly, Iolaus has a single beer in front of him and his phone out on the table, finger skimming over the glass surface as he writes out an email. It's a long one, it seems, as he takes several pauses to sip thoughtfully at the lager in front of him. He even turns in his seat to lean over and ask Jane a murmured question, which she answers with a curt shake of her head before continuing to ignore him. The pub isn't exactly Trib's usual hangout. That's apparent in the uncomfortable way the big man sits at the bar. Half-hunched over the surface, he still has his body twisted so that he can see those around him. His gaze flicks continually to a short, stocky Hispanic man who's currently engaged in conversation with a couple of young women at the end of the bar. There's no interest in the boxer's gaze as he watches this scene; he either has no dog in the hunt, or he's not hunting this particular game. The bartender comes over, a drink in hand that he sets in front of Trib, who glares first at the glass and then at the bartender, shaking his head firmly. Only after the drink and the bartender have removed themselves does Trib turn back to the the rest of the pub. Which probably deserves a closer look, away from bartenders and unsolicited drinks. Stalking panther-like through the restaurant, he initially passes first Jane, then Ioalus, giving each only a cursory glance as he passes. It's only after he takes a few more steps that he stops, and swivels to return to Iolaus' table and point a finger at him. "I know you." "Hm?" Iolaus blinks, looking up from his phone to look at the finger pointed towards his face. "I'm sorry?" He looks a little bit dazed but not at all concerned as he picks up his glass of beer and takes a seat. "Do I know /you/?" The doctor asks, a slight smile spreading across his lips as he shrugs his shoulders. "Forgive me, I meet a lot of people in my job." Though Iolaus may not have noticed Trib's approach, Jane certainly did, eyes fixing him with a hard look as the other man turns around to face them. When that finger comes up, the guard's lip curls upwards slightly as if she was about to growl. "Put your hand down or /I/ will." Her voice is quiet, but sharp - a tone of promise, despite the difference in sizes between the two. "Wasn't at no office or nothin'," Trib says, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. He's already lowering his hand when Jane speaks up, and the look he gives her is one part amusement and two parts assessment. But he huffs a sound that sounds like a concession, and he loops his thumbs through his belt loops, curling the fingers of his half-hand against his thigh. "It was at that bao place in Chinatown. We shared a table for a minute." There's the smallest crinkle at the corner of his eyes as he talks, and he inhales deeply, offering one last bit of information. "I'm Trib Jones." Jane meets Trib's gaze with no quarter given, sniffing once after looking him up and down appraisingly. She doesn't turn her eyes away from the two men, but it's clear that her attention is no longer fully on them either as Iolaus smiles and nods. "Trib Jones. Right, I remember now. That whole mess with the police department." Iolaus taps one finger against the side of his head, smiling. "Haven't forgotten everything, at least. Welcome to the Green Carnation, Mister Jones. Has no one welcomed you properly yet?" The doctor asks politely, picking up his glass and raising it indicatively. "Let me be the first, then. What's your poison?" "They tried," Trib says, looking over his shoulder at various other shadowy tables. "But I didn't take 'em up on it." He offers a quick grin at the offer, and nods. "I'll take you up on yours, on account I know you," he says, and motions at an empty chair questioningly before he drops his massive frame in it. "Whatever you're drinkin' is okay by me," he says gamely, and leans back in his seat, looping an elbow over the back. He watches Iolaus in silence for a long moment, and then leans forward to voice a question. "You come here a lot?" Iolaus lifts his glass up into the air to get the bartenders attention and gestures with it at the large man now sitting across from him. Then, since it's already in his hand, takes a sip before putting it back down. "Every couple of weeks, when I have the time." Iolaus says, gamely. "Sometimes more, sometimes less. My schedule is erratic - Jane gets angry with me if it's too predictable." The doctor says, flashing his bodyguard a bright, mischevious smile. Jane does not smile. "How about you? What brought you here, if you're turning down drinks?" "This is my first time," Trib says, eyes tracking the bartender for a long moment before his gaze slides back to Iolaus. "One of the guys at my gym was meetin' some piece o' tail here, an' he wanted moral support or some shit." The boxer looks over his shoulder to the spot where his friend should be, but the man -- and the two girls -- has disappeared. Which doesn't really seem to /surprise/ the big man. Instead, he turns back to Iolaus, and offers a bit of tooth in his grin. "I don't turn down drinks on account I'm not up for a bit of fun. I just hate for people to waste their money on drinks that don't do nothin' towards gettin' me naked." Iolaus' laughter is warm and bright, and the doctor shakes his head with a smile as the waiter approaches to put down a Sam Adams Boston Lager in front of Trib. "No, no. That's not how it works, here, Mister Jones. I mean, I'm sure it ends the same way as often as it doesn't," he adds, spreading his hands in a gesture of surrender. "But that's not what it's about. Here, everyone buys each other drinks. This is a place that no one drinks alone." He takes a drink menu from the napkin holder and slides it over to the other man, tapping a finger on the description on the bottom. Trib's eyebrows hike at the laughter before falling into a deep furrow. "I thought this was one of them swingers clubs," he rumbles, looking back at that empty spot with a bit of accusation for the absent. "My buddy said it was." There's a tiny bit of color visible in what little of his ears pokes through his hair. He narrows his eyes as he reads the explanation on the menu -- admittedly a bit slowly. Then he wrinkles his nose, reaching up to scratch at its ruined ridge. "So, people just buy drinks for each other?" he says, looking up at the older man. "Just because?" The idea seems to stump him, a bit, given the way he considers it, verifying it again with the menu. Iolaus' laughter this time is a bit louder, and it takes the doctor a minute to pull himself together enough to respond. "Hardly. You buy other people drinks, and other people buy you drinks." He reaches over to open the menu and tap his finger along the price column. "The bold prices are what you pay when you buy for someone else. The italic price is what you pay if you buy for yourself. When someone you know comes in, you buy them a drink. When someone comes in alone, you buy them a drink. And then people do the same for you. Or you ask someone to get you a drink - starts conversations." Trib's ears get a bit redder at Iolaus' reaction, but his expression remains a bit baffled. "Huh," he says finally, and rolls his shoulders and lifts his mouth in a tight, mildly confused half-grin. "Learn somethin' every day, I guess." He considers for a moment, and then spreads the fingers of his half-hand. "Can I get /you/ somethin'?" he asks, shifting his weight a bit. "Fair's fair, after all." Iolaus takes a long sip of his beer and drains it in a smooth motion. Not as impressive as if it had been full, but half isn't bad! "Sure. I'll take..." he taps at his nose, considering for a second. "You know, why don't you surprise me?" Iolaus says, eyes twinkling. "You want anything Jane?" The doctor earns a negative grunt for his trouble. "Jane never lets me buy her drinks." Trib smirks a bit, and when the bartender brings him his beer, he orders a rather nice scotch for Iolaus. Then he raises his glass in salute, and takes a large drink that he rolls around in his mouth before swallowing. He snorts a laugh at the comments about Jane, looking over at her table when she grunts. "Some people ain't built for conversin', I guess," he says finally, grinning a bit as he turns back to Iolaus. "She looks like the strong, silent type." He takes another drink of his beer, watching Iolaus over the rim of his glass. He smacks his lips a bit when he lowers it, and lifts his chin in a sharp jerk. "How's things at your clinic?" "I am assured by people in the know that she's actually quite a party animal, though I don't think many people get to see it." Iolaus teases her, lightly, which earns him a dirty, threatening look. "Not so silent, believe me. I wouldn't want to be some poor bastard private under her." He shoots her an affectionate look before turning his attention back to Trib. "Things are going quite well, thanks. Every day is a new adventure, from the medicine to the business. How about you? What are you doing these days?" This new information on Jane has Trib turning back to give the woman another appraising look. Maybe he's also considering the poor soul who finds himself under her command. Poor bastard, indeed. He makes a noise in his chest that sounds like agreement, although he's careful not to be looking directly /at/ Jane when he does. He nods at the answer to his question, and leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. "You guys did a good job of patching up my pal Billy," he rumbles. "It's good you guys are around." The question gets a lazy shrug. "Generally boxin'-type stuff," he says in answer. "Workin' out, runnin' mornin' an' night, eatin' raw eggs..." his grin at that last one might indicate a certain amount of facetiousness about it. "Tryin' to get on any card I can. The usual bullshit." Iolaus nods and gives the waiter a smile as his drink arrives. This, he does not gulp. "Yeah, I understand. Believe it or not, I /used/ to be an athlete." Iolaus says, smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. "That was years and years ago, now but. It's not something you forget," he says, shrugging his shoulders and flashing Trib a smile. "Never raw eggs, though. Don't need the muscle for fencing as much as you need the speed. Small and quick is the name of the game." "I can believe it," Trib says, looking Iolaus over with little shame as to where he lets his gaze linger. "You got the body of an athlete." He notes the disconnect in the older man's smile, and his lip twitches as if he might say something. Instead, he takes a sip of his beer, grinning a bit at Iolaus when he reveals his sport. "Hey, that shit takes skill," he says approvingly. "Fuckin' with swords an shit. I can see where bein' a big mook like me wouldn't be good for that." He pauses, frowning suddenly. "Fencing /is/ the one with swords, right? An' the funny masks?" Iolaus' cheeks color slightly as the other man looks over him and he takes a sip of the whiskey. And coughs, once, blinking. "Well, has been a while since I've had the good stuff. Cheers." He takes a second sip, managing to swallow it without hurting himself this time. "Yeah. Three different kinds of swords, and the white and silver uniforms. You might actually be alright at Epee - there, reach matters. But," he shrugs his shoulders, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Not a sport for everyone, for sure." Trib smirks at the cough, and lifts his own glass in response to the toast. "Hey, if I'm buyin', I'm goin' to get the best I can," he rumbles good-naturedly. "Specially for people I'm friendly with." He listens to the description of the fencing swords, and actually chuffs a laugh when Iolaus suggests a school for /him/. "Oh, no. I'm right-handed." He holds up his half-hand, and wiggles the two fingers and his thumb. "Holdin' stuff like swords an' bats an' shit ain't exactly somethin' I'm built for." He grins, and closes his half-hand into weird fist that looks a bit like a flesh shillaghlie. "Boxin' takes a different sort of skill, yeah?" Iolaus chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. "I've seen people fence as well as me who were in wheelchairs, so I wouldn't rule yourself out so quickly," he says, taking another sip and glancing down at his phone. A quick flick with his free hand and he frowns down at the time. "Mm. I should probably be heading out, actually. Thank you for the drink, but I think I've had my fill for the evening." He stands up and extends a hand towards the other man, Jane rising behind him smoothly. "Mister Jones, it's a pleasure to meet you again." Trib also stands, perhaps reflexively, and accepts the handshake with a sharp nod. "Yeah, you got important shit to handle," he says matter-of-factly. "Probably ain't good to spend a /lot/ of time sittin' around drinkin'." He gives Iolaus' hand a gentle squeeze, and a solitary pump, and releases it. "It was good seein' /you/," he says, and offers a chin-lift in Jane's direction. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime," he says, stepping back to clear the aisle for Iolaus. "Now that I know where you hang out." It might be a tease; it comes with a smile, and a wink, anyway. But it's impossible to tell, as Trib is already abandoning the table, raising his glass in a farewell as he heads to the bar. Perhaps to wait for his friend to return, or maybe just to have a few more drinks on other people's tabs. Or, more probably, both.