Three Friends walked into a Bar...
Three Friends walked into a Bar...
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A mundane thing which their sanity depends on dearly.
Its a little silly, the people held hopes that it’s worth a second chance — living — that if they were to leave and start a new things would be different.
So long as the law and mind are flawed it’s all bound to be doomed. There is no humanity in this place.
“Spring…in an icy planet? Is that a joke?” a woman languidly sways her cup, the liquid gleaming under the low light in accompaniment of the gold which snakes around her arms.
“More of a miracle than a joke to me.” another man came to voice his opinion.
He just entered, his clothes rumpled and damp on the sleeves from a fight. A certain tiredness was in his eyes, yet his movements were easy-going.
She rolls her eyes at the sight of sudden company.
“No one asked, Cyrus.” drank the woman from her cup.
He shrugs taking a seat on a corner.
“How’s the mission?” the bartender ask, still tending to the cup he’d have to dry.
“Same things same.” Cyrus replies with a smile only to drop when the lady adds.
“So it failed then?”
A pained grunt escapes him. “Whiskey please.”
The bartender complies, sliding the drink over to him soon as it was poured. The lady watched him down the glass in one swig, faint surprise evident in her eyes.
“Geez, what an alcoholic.”
“Says one…Lydia” a cheeky expression rose to his face at his retort.
Cyrus knows well between the two her liver had it worser. The first to get to the bar was her, the first to down 7 drinks was her.
The bartender might as well call her his majesty for the amount of times he served her.
She simply scoffed, chugging another drink out of spite.
“Have you seen the prisoner?”
“Miss stripy girl?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s speedy, i wonder how she doesn’t have the boots on her person.”
“She doesn’t need it she has Leblanc’s belt. Adds to the flexibility and agility — besides the point anyway — we agreed to meet up here, where is she?”
✶✶✶
A screech of a moving vehicle cuts through the silence of the streets. The usual dark drops of rain illuminating the headlights through its transparent body.
The person behind the wheel frantically moves about, his gloved hands turning the wheel sharply, avoiding the sirens that followed his tail.
He bit down his cigarette, the news flashing on the radio speakers. Head spiraling down in addiction, a thrill as a couple of rock songs rushed to his head.
A sound of vibration reaches his thigh.
The two were calling.
—
“What?!” the pair flinch back from the phone call, ears ringing. “Is she a fool? Why did she go ahead of us!?”
Troubled sighs came from the three, they’re well aware of her unpredictable behavior.
Aeons know she’s at the station, or worse she’s already boarding the ship.
Off to another unplanned route.
✶✶✶
Which she is.
The ship is currently sailing the nebulas of space. The scent of intoxicating raspberries filling the senses of the passengers aboard the world spinning in a lovely burst of sweet wine.
The prisoner — in cunning disguise — makes herself at home. Lounging by the salon where conductors would serve bitter coffee to keep passengers awake.
She politely declines the offer.
A piece of paper was scrunched up between her fingers, the bold letters addressing to an IPC researcher.
It is written.
‘After a millennium of being buried in snow, radio signals emerge from planet Jarilo-VI. You have the privilege to accompany your team to go down there collect your findings on the current situation of the planet. Report back promptly in 7 days.’
“Poor unfortunate soul lost his invitation and ticket the moment it stuck out the pockets of the mailman’s bag.”
Somewhere in the universe, a planet is at the brink of its stability. A city where black pouring rain and smoke flurrying over the towering heads of buildings was a part of its design.
This was a second colony. It took a few centuries for their technology to evolve, a few more centuries of drifting in space, 8 decades for the settling and exploring the small of the planet, and a few more weeks left before it looses it balance on the thin peace established by man.
In a hidden corner of a street, a warm light emits from the signage, flickering as the drops of rain hits an exposed cable.
This should cause for concern but so long as the place doesn’t blow up it’s okay to simply look away and go back to wiping tables and empty cups.
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