( video & action )

[warmachine]

[ The video zooms in to one James Rhodes, wearing his dress blues and sitting at the bar -- yes, again -- with one elbow propped up and his head in his hand, the other cradling a beer.

He doesn't look happy.

There's a voice comming from off-screen: ] This fine specimen of man is Col. James Rhodes and he has good reason to be in the bar today. Guess what? His best friend, Tony Stark, has left the City and he's drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Healthy coping mechanisms.

[ Rhodey's mouth twists, something angry and bitter in his expression, but his voice is still mostly even when he speaks. ]

I seriously don't need the running commentary, man.


[ ooc; So. Tony's gone and Rhodey is getting drunk. Italics are some NPC commentator. Come buy him a drink and cheer him up or join him in his misery. ]

Comments

audio:

[pigtailsbutterflyknives]

If you want someone to punch the camera guy, I'm all for it. They're at my birthday and it's weird.

audio:

[warmachine]

Nah. I just want him to leave me alone.

[ A beat. ] Happy birthday.

action;

[metaman]

[Abed sighs and shakes his head before tapping the NPC on the shoulder.]

Your technique is awful. What kind of reality show are you running here - daytime tv?

» action

[thenormalsquint]

[Why she's in the bar is her own reason, but she knows Rhodey and knows Tony is gone, so she heads for him, stopping between him and the unwelcome commentator who's about to see a side of Angela that he might not want to.]

Go away before you don't walk for a week.

[studmuffin]

[ Stumbling into the bar because yes, he's run all this way and yes, he practically collapses against the counter but dear fucking lord, it's War Machine.

To the commentator. ] Hey, dude, I saw Paris Hilton down the street. Her skirt's blown off.

action;

[warmachine]

[ The NPC splutters and mutters something about senior project and learning and this is fun, isn't it?

Rhodes, meanwhile, is just taking a long sip of his drink and thinking about walking out. ]

» action

[warmachine]

[ At least people are talking to the guy filming rather than Rhodey. He doesn't want company. Or maybe he does, he isn't even sure.

But he's still listening in, because he picked this bar since it was quiet. He doesn't want there to be a barfight. That would defeat the purpose.

So when the commentator makes no move to leave, he shakes his head and pushes away from the bar. ] Angela, hey. Buy you a drink?

[ He honestly doesn't care about the guy. Much. ]

[warmachine]

[ Well, that gets the commentator going. Rhodey raises an eyebrow. ] Good thinking.

» action

[thenormalsquint]

[If the guy wants to fight, so be it. Angela can spit and she has a ton of crap in her purse today. He can bring it.]

You need it more than I do right now. [She's covering his tab today. Turning back to the other guy:] Have some respect. Leave.

[studmuffin]

[ Grinning, because okay, he's a fanboy, he can't help it, and he's just helped James Rhodes out and he said good thinking and Stiles is just like, maybe a little bit crazy from his run. ]

I'm your biggest fan. [ Oops. Blurted. Because okay, sidekick love, Stiles is the sidekick. He owns it. ] Um.

[warmachine]

Excuse me?

[latenightfondue]

[ Howard sweeps over and joins him whether he likes it or not. He looks rough, smells like alcohol, and it's questionable as to whether he even made it home last night or reemerged today.

But, hey, a drunk Howard isn't that much different to a sober one. ] Y'got a fan club there, Rhodes?

» action

[warmachine]

[ The guy does leave, but not without muttering a few choice words under his breath. Rhodey settles back against the bar. ]

Yeah, maybe.

[studmuffin]

You -. [ Heavy breathing. ] You're War Machine, you're like, the best.

[ And then visibly pulling himself together. ] Sorry, um. I'm sorry? About Iron Man going. That must be a bummer.

[warmachine]

Not much of a fan, that guy.

[ Wow, Howard. You look rough. Rhodey feels a tug of sympathy, for all that he's pretty torn over Tony's leaving as well. ]

» action

[thenormalsquint]

[She's been called worse. They're nothing that doesn't roll off her back.]

Put his drinks on my card. [This is pointed toward the bartender as Angela slides her card across the bartop just before she hops onto a stool next to Rhodey.] No arguing.

action;

[metaman]

Is this a dating show or an intervention program? They're two entirely different genres; you can't narrate them the same way.

[latenightfondue]

[ It's okay, their wallowing can happen together. ]

Can't please everyone, buddy. [ He's heard harsher things. ] Guess y'heard.

[warmachine]

How do you know me? [ He's not the War Machine, though he has thought about calling his suit that, Tony's throw-away comment running in his brain, and it's weird that there's some kid knowing about that.

Shoulders slumping. ] Yeah.

[warmachine]

Yeah. I did. [ He'll just-- run a hand over his face. Fuck, he hates it. ]

Not holding up so well, huh?

» action

[warmachine]

[ He opens his mouth to do just that, then slides it closed again. ]

Thanks.

action;

[warmachine]

[ Neither, it's neither, the NPC says and it's his show, he can narrate it any way he pleases, all right.

Rhodey frowns. ] Definitely not dating. [ Muttered, maybe just loud enough for someone to pick up on it, or maybe not. ]

» action

[thenormalsquint]

[She knew he was going to; when she lost her own best friend, she argued all night long.]

Do you want to move to someplace quieter?

[studmuffin]

Can I buy you a drink?

[ Not that he has ID. Or money. Or. It's War Machine. ]

[latenightfondue]

Gotta admit, it came as a shock, 'specially after last time with the grand entrance. A fella should stick around after an opening like that.

[ He's smiling, but it's forced, and he tips back his drink, winks at the barmaid for another round. ]