Oi! Well, my name is Amy Pond. Got stuck in a pocket universe somehow. No idea how that happened. It's a bit troubling, but I'm sure the Doctor will... fix this. Somehow. But I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for that to happen. Gotta do something, ai?                                                                             [RP/Ask blog. Not independent. But you can still pester Amy with questions. In fact, it's encouraged! ]
"On some days, my head is filled with such wild and original thoughts that I can barely utter a word. On other days, the liqour store is closed." -Frank Varano
Truer words have never been spoken Frank Varano, the colonel told himself as he slammed the bathroom door open, fitting his shirt back in on his way out. He was not nearly as classy once he’d drank more than 4 drinks, and he knew that he shouldn’t have gone for beer. At least, he had a nice bottle of rhum awaiting him at his table, and no fucking anybody to bother him with no shit, he told himself, slouching down on the bench, his leather derbies on the wooden table, he clearly had this I’m not going to accept any of your shit attitude.
Smashing his cigarette butt against the ashtray, which was getting filled slowly, but nicely, he then proceeded to inspect the room. Seemed like everyone had made sure to get the fuck away from their loud neighbor when he was gone to the toilets. Rude. He made a sulky face and tried to reach out for his bottle, although it became a little bit hard, now that he had troubles with depth perception. Giving it a second go, he finally managed to set his fingers on the glass and the bottle. “Success!” he shouted, although this was supposed to stay between him and the glass. He was not exactly whiling to share his drunken thoughts with the whole room. “Watcha looking at,” he said, his words slurred, just slightly, wait no, not slightly, totally slurred. He gave the girl a wide smile, patting the table for her to sit. “Nice to-to-mee-eet you,” he added, struggling with his words.
Amy had to admit that she was tempted to turn around on her heel and walk out the door, and perhaps find comfort in the empty park instead. But the numbness in her fingers was yet another reminder that the chilly night outside was not gentle to the warmhearted. Ah- she’d just have to stay, wouldn’t she? It wasn’t too disappointing once she poked her head in and her nostrils were filled with the familiar smell of Leadworth’s best pub. The one in the pocket had an almost uncanny resemblance to the one in her home town, which was why Amy had made it a bit of a habit to go there on the nights when she missed her boring old town where nothing ever happened.
The man caught her attention almost immediately - which wasn’t really that odd, considering that he was bloody shouting at her! A few seconds passed while Amy considered her options. She could either let him sit there in his misery - which really wouldn’t be very humane of her - or she could join him. Help him out. Yeah, that seemed like the nicer thing to do. She was giving this nice thing a real proper try now, wasn’t she? Although she had always been quite good, she had never really… Tried before.
”Scoot,” she ordered him as she thumped down on the wooden bench, her bare legs cold against the already cool surface. “S’ppose you’re Bash then?” she added, narrowing her eyes slightly. Yes, indeed. She recognized him, all right. Wait—— was he the guy with the great hair or the other one?