[ota]

[rawly]

Sonny has been on this ship for not long at all, but he is already behind the bar where he knows how to be. There's a sign on top of the advice that says Free Fuckin' Advice on top as he leans against the other side of the bar. He is not responsible for the sign for the record. Sonny is also not responsible for the fact that some people who end up at this bar will find themselves far more likely to share their troubles than they would be ordinarily. They'll suddenly find words for troubles they've never been able to describe before.

It's the ship's magic, and Sonny is a demon and a bartender who is over eighty years old. He's done some terrible things for selfish reasons, and he's done some terrible things for the good of others, and he's loved and had a family. Nothing's ever that fucking simple.

He has plenty to say, but he's going to say it all in his own fucking way.

Come have a drink.

Come spill the things you can't ever normally put to words. Come let someone listen or give a word or two that might set you on the right path or the wrong path or any fucking path.

It's what he's here for.

Comments

[rawly]

Sonny lifts his eyebrows as he looks across the bar at the man standing there. He only hesitates a moment before he nods, sensing the fact that the man needs it (Sonny is a demon of emotions. He feels them. He can push on them if he really wants to, if he needs.

The demon always wants to. Sonny only does so when push comes to shove and there's no better way to fix a situation).

"One of my worst coming up."

It's said without further ado, and as an eighty year old bartender, he knows a few tricks up his sleeves as to what could be the worst.

"Any reason you need the worst tonight?"

[category]

And although Jack's been around a long time (a very long time -- longer than the Doctor has, something he never thought possible in spite of his inability to perish), he isn't immune to that sort of thing. He's as susceptible to empaths and other sorts of mind readers and manipulators as the next person, he's just a bit better at picking up on signs of something being amiss, should anyone falling into those categories decide to tamper with things they shouldn't.

Whatever Sonny's feeling from him, chances are, it's not pretty. It's dark and murky, filled to the brim with a gloomy sort of certainty that's been lurking for longer than anyone ought to be holding on to anything. With Jack it's a constant, and today it's out in full force.

"A better question would be why don't I," he comments, hopping up onto a stool. "List's shorter."

[rawly]

Sonny doesn't plan on manipulating any emotions tonight. It brings out the darkness inside of him so he avoids it. He's hurt a lot of people with those powers, and he can tell this man has more hurt in him, more pain and darkness and gloom in him than most he has ever met. It's the kind that comes from years and years. Sonny isn't even trying to read anything from him, but he feels it like heavy waves coming off of him.

"That bad?"

He's fixing up a glass for him quickly, setting it down in front of him.

"Think of the fuckin' bright side, now you're on a ship in the middle of nowhere."

There's a light smirk, an awareness that might not be a bright side to everyone. It kind of is to him.

[category]

"Neverending," Jack replies, folding his arms on the bar and leaning into it. "Emphasis on the never."

He took a sick sort of pleasure in throwing the literal into the vagueness of his tone. It was hard to tell at times whether Jack was simply joking around, completely bullshitting, or being dead serious. (Pun very much intended.)

That gets a slight laugh out of him. "Guess we should be glad it's not a ghost ship. Not even Scooby-Doo could find us all the way out here."

[rawly]

There's a pause at the way he says it, and Sonny tilts his head to the side curiously. "You serious? I've... met people who are immortal before."

They usually tend to be vampires, and while angels and demons can have a very long lifespan, angels can live up to 1,000 years that's not forever. Most don't make it that long. The Callings take over their head that way.

He smirks. "Yeah, think this would be a little fuckin' out of Scooby-Doo's realm of mysteries to be solved. That van can't turn into sub... at least last I checked."

[category]

Jack extends his hand in response to that. "Captain Jack Harkness. Consider one met."

Then he laughs, albeit bitterly, because he used to the be the sort who excelled at solving these kinds of mysteries. All sorts of things came out of the Rift back in Cardiff, and he's been in more than a few strange situations with the Doctor. They fixed the miracle, but he can't get himself off a damned ship to nowhere?

If only he could figure out how to get his Vortex Manipulator working again, but it's fried. Again, and the Doctor was dead set on keeping him in one place. He failed to see what was so dangerous about him hoping around time, other than running the risk of giving the Time Lord a case of the heebie-jeebies by showing up somewhere he was unannounced and bothering him with his wrongness.