stop me if you've heard this one before: a genius, two secret agents, and a time traveler walk in to a dive bar. sounds like the setup to a joke or the synopsis to a doctor who episode, right? no. actually, it's the beginning of a cautionary tale, which is: if people come from the future to kill you, it's probably time to reevaluate your life choices.
learn from howard's mistakes, children, because he certainly won't.
by the time they reach the bar, the sun is setting and a storm brews on the horizon. the slashes of orange and dark blues streaking across the sky clashes against the dark purple — the same colour of a bruise — of the approaching storm. the bright, harsh neon lights of the bar's sign is the only artificial lights for miles — the only sign of human civilization for miles. the bar itself is an old, rickety wooden shack with several bullet holes dotting the exterior. (sousa wonders aloud if, any point, the shack was an outpost of some sort and everyone's eyes immediately turn to their time traveler slash history professor guest, but no one says anything.) a humidity develops in the air; howard's shirt sticks to his skin when he exits the car. the wind picks up as they walk, soon beginning to holler through the surrounding desert. thunder rumbles off in the distance and the door swings behind them.
the object of the mission is to make contact with the two assassins sent to kill howard. the specifics of the plan is useless to reveal, mainly because there are no specifics. but the gist of it is that howard will be his normal charming self with his normal control and restraint, and wait for his killers to appear. basically, he was bait. but considering that this wasn't the first time, he didn't too concern over it.
what he is concern over, however, is buying this time traveler lucy preston a drink. sousa and carter are already in position around the room, but lucy is stuck here with ole howard at the bar until the ball dropped. poor woman. )
How 'bout it? A drink? ( a smile cuts in to his cheeks as his eyes sweep over lucy. ) I'll buy.
[ The idea of having Lucy being the one accompanying Howard at the bar didn't really sit well with anyone in the time-traveling trio that came to save Mr. Stark's life. Lucy wasn't a fan because she expected him to be the same infuriating flirt he had been for the entirety of their stay so far, Rufus didn't like it out of sheer envy because he was the only member of the team who could actually understand what Howard was saying when he was starting to get scientific (and the man was something of an idol to him), and Wyatt... actually, Lucy wasn't sure why Wyatt was so against the idea, but he seemed pretty against Howard being around Lucy in general.
As things stand, Rufus and Wyatt are covering the outside of the dive in case the assassins get past Sousa and Carter.
The heat that hangs in the air is the oppressive kind that leaves you sluggish and cranky, and the air pressure is making Lucy feel like her head is stuck in a vice. She gently massages her temples as she slips into a seat, feeling like alcohol is the last thing she needs right now but the options are kind of limited here.
Her nails are painted the same bright red nuance as her lips, and the dress she is increasingly worried that she'll end up sweating through is a lovely shade of yellow that will not at all be discreet about showing that off should it happen. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-02-19 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-02-23 07:47 am (UTC)stop me if you've heard this one before: a genius, two secret agents, and a time traveler walk in to a dive bar. sounds like the setup to a joke or the synopsis to a doctor who episode, right? no. actually, it's the beginning of a cautionary tale, which is: if people come from the future to kill you, it's probably time to reevaluate your life choices.
learn from howard's mistakes, children, because he certainly won't.
by the time they reach the bar, the sun is setting and a storm brews on the horizon. the slashes of orange and dark blues streaking across the sky clashes against the dark purple — the same colour of a bruise — of the approaching storm. the bright, harsh neon lights of the bar's sign is the only artificial lights for miles — the only sign of human civilization for miles. the bar itself is an old, rickety wooden shack with several bullet holes dotting the exterior. (sousa wonders aloud if, any point, the shack was an outpost of some sort and everyone's eyes immediately turn to their time traveler slash history professor guest, but no one says anything.) a humidity develops in the air; howard's shirt sticks to his skin when he exits the car. the wind picks up as they walk, soon beginning to holler through the surrounding desert. thunder rumbles off in the distance and the door swings behind them.
the object of the mission is to make contact with the two assassins sent to kill howard. the specifics of the plan is useless to reveal, mainly because there are no specifics. but the gist of it is that howard will be his normal charming self with his normal control and restraint, and wait for his killers to appear. basically, he was bait. but considering that this wasn't the first time, he didn't too concern over it.
what he is concern over, however, is buying this time traveler lucy preston a drink. sousa and carter are already in position around the room, but lucy is stuck here with ole howard at the bar until the ball dropped. poor woman. )
How 'bout it? A drink? ( a smile cuts in to his cheeks as his eyes sweep over lucy. ) I'll buy.
Sorry about this taking so long
Date: 2017-03-05 08:45 pm (UTC)As things stand, Rufus and Wyatt are covering the outside of the dive in case the assassins get past Sousa and Carter.
The heat that hangs in the air is the oppressive kind that leaves you sluggish and cranky, and the air pressure is making Lucy feel like her head is stuck in a vice. She gently massages her temples as she slips into a seat, feeling like alcohol is the last thing she needs right now but the options are kind of limited here.
Her nails are painted the same bright red nuance as her lips, and the dress she is increasingly worried that she'll end up sweating through is a lovely shade of yellow that will not at all be discreet about showing that off should it happen. ]
I don't have any money, so you'll have to.