A pub, a pub, my kingdom for a pub (closed)

[splendid_roman]

Who| Ian Chesterton and John Watson
What| Two manly men in need of a pub
Where| In the capitol
When| After arena 6
Warnings/Notes| None

What Ian really wanted was a pub. Well, there were other things to, but a pub with proper beer would be a start. When he asked people told about various bars in the city, but he wanted a proper pub. In the end he'd been forced to wander out on his own. He struck lucky at a sign for "The Green Lion".

The sign itself gave him pause because it was so nearly right, but he gave it a go anyway and pushed open the door. Inside it looked like the sort of pubs he was used to, minus the smoky atmosphere. Although someone had gone over the top with the horse brass.

"I wonder what the beer's like," he said to himself as he stood in the doorway.

Comments

[drpsychosomatic]

John was heavily into his third, leaning over the bar moodily and staring into his glass. He'd had terrible beer before- he'd been to America- but this was really, really awful. Still, he threw it down his throat, trying to ignore the screens- the Games were done, of course, but the highlights kept being played. He'd never missed rugby more.

Mutters and interested gasps from the locals caught his attention, and he turned his head towards the door. A tribute, like himself, though he didn't recognise him. He frowned.

"Best pub this side of Croydon," he offered wryly. "Coming in?"

[splendid_roman]

If it was the sort of pub where they didn't get many strangers than Ian was definitely coming in. He ignored the stares as he approached the bar, smiling at the man who had spoken. "That depends on how good the pubs in Croydon are."

The locals seemed to decide Ian wasn't that interesting as he ordered himself a beer, although Ian was sure some of them were still listening.

[drpsychosomatic]

"Does a bit, doesn't it," he agreed ruefully, swallowing a hurried mouthful of watered-down beer with a grimace before adding: "John Watson. Don't suppose you're actually from where it sounds like you're from?"

[splendid_roman]

"Ian Chesterton and I am." He sat down with a sigh when he tasted the beer. "This most definitely is not."

[drpsychosomatic]

He laughed and shook his head. "God, no. Beer in name only. I would have left, but it seemed a little rude, and the guy behind the bar is very... enthusiastic."

[splendid_roman]

The barman was certainly more pleased to see him than the locals had. "I suppose it might have some alcohol in it." He had another sip. "And it's better than nothing."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Better than a kick in the teeth," he agreed with chuckle. "So what brings you out this far? Just exploring?"

[splendid_roman]

He nodded. "I was hoping for some decent beer. But mostly I'm just trying to get away from my training schedule."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Nice they gave you one, I suppose," he offered, amicably. "I think they have me down as a lost cause. Bit too much middle-age spread."

[splendid_roman]

He chuckled. "You need better beer to do that properly."

[drpsychosomatic]

"And a little more time between resets," he added, examining his beer thoughtfully.

[splendid_roman]

"How long do we get?" He wasn't sure if a short or a long time would be good, but it felt at the moment as if he was just waiting to go back in and that nothing he did now would make any difference.

[drpsychosomatic]

"I'm not exactly sure," he admitted quietly. "We have a while, at least- they haven't crowned Wesker, and that happens before they start an arena. But not long enough to put too many inches on around the middle."

[splendid_roman]

"Maybe it's better not to know." Knowing the date this far in advance would just make him dread it all the more. "But perhaps we should fatten ourselves up a bit, so we have something to keep us going when the food is scarce." Despite being hungry in the arena it hadn't occurred to him before.

[drpsychosomatic]

"Probably wouldn't be a bad idea," he agreed. "I think we'd be better off strength training than just piling on the pounds, though."

[splendid_roman]

"That depends on what you're planning to do in the arena." He studied his pint and decided this place was out of the way enough to be safe to say what he thought. "I'm not intending to fight next time."

[drpsychosomatic]

"Oh? That's... basically what I tried doing, this time around. It didn't do me many favours," he said with a grimace. "Someone in that Arena is always going to be willing to kill you- unarmed, non-aggressive or not."

[splendid_roman]

He shrugged. "I'll hide."

[drpsychosomatic]

He nodded. "Good luck to you. Hiding doesn't seem to be the worst plan, though they'll send those things after you, won't they?"

[splendid_roman]

"Probably," he agreed. "But if they can bring us back, even when we're so close to dying, what difference is it going to make?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Oh, no, I was dead. Not close to, I was dead," John told Ian firmly. "Trust me. I've been close to dead before. This was... very different."

[splendid_roman]

Ian shook his head. "But you can't bring people back from the dead. Not and have it succeed that often with no side-effects." Although that made him wonder if there were side-effects he hadn't come across yet.

[drpsychosomatic]

"You can't generally snatch people up and transport them to some point in the future or an alternate reality or something either," John said. "Not that I'm sure they bring us back to life. I think we're new every time. Have you met Howard?"

[splendid_roman]

It wasn't the first time he'd been snatched up and transported to another time, but at least then he'd remembered the process, even if he hadn't believed it at first.

But he frowned at the idea of being new every time, which made even less sense. "No, I haven't. What do you mean?"

[drpsychosomatic]

John leaned in a little closer.
"Every time Howard wakes up in the Capitol after dying in the Arena, he's back to being in the same condition he was in when he was first brought here. It's quite dramatic- the kid was practically starving to death, before, and you can see his face shape change completely. It's not that he recovers from near-death in the Arena, it can't be."

[splendid_roman]

He frowned. That didn't sound possible the way he described it. All he could think of was that when the doctors healed him they also let him starve, but that seemed unlikely. "That doesn't make sense."

[drpsychosomatic]

"It's like they put our memories in a new version of the body we arrived in," John muttered. "I know it doesn't make much sense, but very little here really does..."

[splendid_roman]

He sighed. "I think I need another drink." It was the only way to deal with it. "Although it'll be hard to get drunk on this stuff." It didn't stop him from finishing it off and catching the barman's eye, though. "Want another?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Wouldn't say no," John replied with a wry smile. "If you're out for getting bladdered, though, you'd be better off going to one of those parties they throw here. Been to any yet?"

[splendid_roman]

He shook his head. "They look a bit glitzy. And more tending towards cocktails than anything proper to drink." Although this beer wasn't much better, but when the barman put two more on the bar Ian slid one over to John and took a sip from the other. "Have you been to any?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Yeah. Thanks."
He took his beer, tipped it in gratitude and took a sip, grimacing slightly. "Yeah, the last Crowning ceremony. They'd decorated it like Versailles and everyone was dressed like Marie Antionette. It wasn't all bad though.'

He'd met Effie there of course, and his outfit hadn't been too bad. He'd almost enjoyed himself by the end. He smiled.

[splendid_roman]

"There was that, but we were all forced to go to it." At the time it had been all new to him, but on the whole it had been over the top. "I suppose there'll be another one soon." He didn't sound entirely happy about it.