fool's gold

Lauren Mackenzie ● 23 ● Australian Owner of Briscoe's "In a bulletproof vest With the windows all closed I'll be doing my best And I'll see you soon"

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"Hey, Sam Larson holds his liquor," he said defensively, wagging a finger in Lauren’s direction. "I’ve never thrown up from drinking. I am the shot champion! Hold a competition one night and you’ll see," he promised. An impromptu bar challenge might just be a sound business venture. Especially on the colder, darker, winter nights. 

"Good salary," Sam said honestly, shrugging one shoulder. "And there wasn’t much room for advancement for me on Earth. I got into a little trouble that would hold me back from military advancement. Private security is much more lenient. Besides, frontier space colony? It’s every nerd’s dream."

[lauren--mackenzie]

"Right, because holding a colony-wide drinking comp sounds like a great idea," she deadpanned, which was more out of reflex, really, because she thought it was actually a pretty good idea. While she most definitely was not a fan of the noise and people such events usually entailed, it was nice to see how they raised the spirits of the population.

"Army, huh? Quite a lot of you up here. Weyland's quite fond of big-headed oafs like you, it seems." She thought it might be appropriate to add a 'thank you for you service,' or something of the like, but the words felt clumsy in her throat. It was more of an American thing, anyway. "Look at us, then. One ex-soldier and one lowly bartender on an exciting alien planet far, far away, hand picked from thousands of possible candidates, and of all the things we could be doing, we've chosen to sit down at a grimy bar and polish off a good half a bottle of vodka." Most definitely contagious, she decided. Funny how things worked out.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"I’ll hold you to that. I’ll also need you to sign a waver stating you won’t laugh at any girlish screams that may or may not come from me," he smiled. "But really, you should come. You need to get out of this bar once in a while." Pulling Lauren’s phone off the counter, Sam typed in his number and added it to her favorites. 

"There. I’ll text you the next time I’m on night shift." He took the refill gratefully, taking a larger swallow now that a familiar buzz was beginning to ease his reflexes. Settling back in his chair, Sam took a long, hard look at the girl in front of him. She was gorgeous. Surely she could have made a living back on Earth. 

"What did Weyland offer you to get you out here? Or do you just like us rowdy soldiers enough to follow us to the corners of the galaxy?" 

[lauren--mackenzie]

"Oh, but I like being in my little nest of booze and idiots," she snorted, watching as he added his number to her phone, bringing her grand total of contacts to nine. Her aversion to using it wasn't intentional, but the fact of the matter was that there was simply no need. There were only a few people she'd ever need to contact, Owen and a few of the Civ team, and it wasn't as if she actively sought out people to talk to. Still, she decided that she liked the number nine – a nice, square number –  much more than eight, and didn't object.

She'd drunk enough that her thoughts were a little hazier than usual, enough that she allowed herself to give a little laugh at his next comment. "It seems I've grown attached to cleaning up your vomit. How could I reject an opportunity to do it full time?" In all honesty, she wasn't sure what had compelled her to accept Weyland's offer. While she'd been making a good amount of money with her coffee shop, the colony just seemed like a logical step from a business standpoint. She wasn't so sure she'd made the right decision anymore. "What about you, then? I would've thought a nice afternoon of crocheting would be more suited to your taste."

[lachlan-greene-deactivated20140]

What a lovely day.

[lachlan-greene-deactivated20140]

Oh dear. Maybe you’re right.

[lauren--mackenzie]

'Course I am, as always.

Haven't seen you at the bar for a bit. Where've you been?

[lachlan-greene-deactivated20140]

What a lovely day.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Sure, if grey, drab and windy is your kind of thing.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Owen

[owen-frank]

"Scotch, right." Owen went to note that down as well. They seemed to be going through booze at an alarming rate - Owen was beginning to wonder if the restorative properties of alcohol were true after all. In that case, he might have to indulge, until he remembered, with a bitter smile, the one time he had tried to mix drinks with his meds. That hadn’t turned out well at all. "I’ll send over the final orders for you to look over just in case - I mean, I doubt they’ll look for brands or anything, but you never know. Worth a shot, right?"

The conversation lapsed into silence at his question, though, and he was curiously tilting his head, figuring that she just must’ve been having trouble figuring out if she wanted anything. When she declined to give an answer, though, and moved on, a small, uncertain look flitted over his features. Had he done something to offend? Owen wasn’t sure, but he knew that he didn’t want to linger on that.

"Uh, yeah. Just permit stuff, like I said. It’s all good, you just need to…well , here," he said, fumbling awkwarldy with the tablet before handing it, along with a stylus, over for her to deliver her signature. Owen looked around at the bar while he waited, suddenly no longer wishing at all to experiment with the alcohol all around.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren felt a hint of guilt as she took in the look on Owen's face. If she were not herself and someone else entirely, she might have apologised, maybe even given him a brief explanation. Instead, she mumbled a quiet "thanks" as he handed her the tablet, rather than her preferred formal 'thank you.' While she knew it was foolish for her to expect him to understand, she hoped he'd pick up on her meaning anyway. 

She scrawled her signature with the stylus before handing it back to him, running a hand through her hair to keep it off her face. "I, uh," she began, not quite sure what she was trying to say, before settling with, "Can I pour you a drink or something? Why are you out so late, anyway?"

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"That’s no fun," Sam frowned, relieved that Lauren didn’t ask for any more detail about the mission. "Maybe you and I need to take a few of these bottles and hijack a couple rovers. Church will glare at us for doing wheelies in the docking bay, but he’s no snitch. you could join me for a patrol of the walls one night if you have the balls," he grinned wickedly, narrowing his eyes. 

"It’s cold and dark and scary. Not for the faint of heart. We hear noises out there that never breach these cozy facilities." Plus, having a civilian with him would make the time pass much quicker for him too. Technically only guards were allowed on the wall, but the rule was rarely enforced.  

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren arched a wary eyebrow at his words. She moved to object, brush off the offer and shoo him out of the bar, but found herself unable to form the words. There was a fresh stack of paperwork waiting for her on her desk each night, so it wasn't as if she needed more to do. Still, she'd never quite learnt how to back down from a challenge, and the challenge posed in his statement was clear.

"Cold and dark and scary, you say," she began, pouring them both another drink. "I'll be sure to catch you when you pass out, then, fair maiden." If worse came to worst, she'd blame it on the vodka.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

Sam fell silent for a moment, tracing the rim of his glass. “For a while, I thought we did. There were blips on the scanners. Scared the shit out of me. It’s one thing to come under attack when it’s you and a group of trained soldiers, but we had so many civilians…” Sam couldn’t bring himself to talk about the man who died. 

"Contagious indeed. Here’s to getting loaded out of our minds and being useless for the est of the day," he laughed, clinking his glass against Lauren’s. 

"What do you do when you aren’t working? I don’t think I’ve seen you around. You always seem to be here," Sam said, nodding at the empty bar. 

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren sobered a little as conversation turned to the expedition. While talk among the civilians about the trip was mostly light and in jest, she sensed it wouldn't be the same for those who'd actually taken part. For a group of people so used to being told that they were the best of the best, she wondered how they'd take the failure. 

She was a little caught off guard by his next question. While she was accustomed to polite small talk on occasion, it was rare that someone actually asked about her life outside of Briscoe's, as if all knowledge of her existence was incased in the four walls of the bar, separate from the rest of the world. It took her a few moments to come up with an answer. "I am always here. There's paperwork to complete, drinks to make, stock to count, drunks to kick out. Running this place isn't easy." She considered mentioning her time at the rec center, but decided against it. Her time there was her own business, and she preferred to spend it alone.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"It was Yung wasn’t it? Dammit, Yung! Guy can’t hold his liquor," Sam groaned. He slumped back in his chair and sipped at his glass, wincing at the powerful taste. The burn soothed him, calming his frayed nerves.

"I was part of the field team that went out today. We didn’t get back until late, then I spent some time with a friend." Sam knew the alien structure was supposed to be classified, but he was sure everyone on Heron’s Hope knew anyway.

"It was a rough day," he sighed, downing his second glass. "God, that feels better. Vodka is the best therapy." 

[lauren--mackenzie]

"Ah, yes, the famed 'Weyland sends people out on potentially deadly missions so they can pretend to be supreme spy overlords' trip to the creepy caves. All four limbs intact, I see. Run into any aliens?" If she was really being honest with herself, Lauren had been a little disappointed that she hadn't been allowed to go out with Owen and the rest of the team. In her time on the new planet, she'd been-...bored, which never bode well for her. Still, she understood that her place was at the bar, safe and secure in the little nest the colony had made themselves, something she wasn't sure she liked. It'd all lead to a strange bout of conflict in her mind, something she was sure had never happened to her.

She shook herself from her thoughts, pouring herself another drink as Sam downed his. She had to agree with his statement. "See?" she said, pointing at his glass, and then at her own, "Contagious."

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Owen

[owen-frank]

"They’re a tough bunch to win over, I’ll give you that," Owen nodded in agreement. "Must be something about being "the best of the best" or whatever - big egos everywhere and pride to spare." From what he had seen, Lauren and he vastly differed in the way they treated people, but it seemed she was dealing with some of the same issues he was. Owen never got offended, but it did get somewhat tiring at times, so he definitely sympathized.

"Almost out of vodka?" Owen mock-grimaced. "I think we’d have an actual riot on our hands - hold up - " He pulled out his tablet, deftly flicking through a couple of screens before scribbling something down. "Alright…The next supply ship is coming within the next few weeks, so now’s the time. Anything else?" He paused slightly, almost hesitation. "If you don’t go around telling everyone, there’s even special requests."

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren nodded her agreement. For all the meticulous planning and effort Weyland had put in, the personalities they'd put together threatened to be the colony's downfall. She wasn't sure how the failure of the recent mission would affect a group of people that had only learnt how to succeed. She chose to keep these thoughts to herself, however. She'd learnt from a young age that it was never a good idea to invest herself in something that didn't concern her.

"A few extra bottles of scotch would be great as well," she began, wiping down the last section of the bench, before her train of thought was arrested by the second half of his statement. Special request. As if he'd be willing to pull her a quiet favour, as if they were friends. Her mind launched into a series of sounds and textures and tastes without her permission, engulfed by a flood of memories she didn't know she had. Sounds and textures and tastes she didn't know she'd missed.

She wanted blackened steaks resting on greasy barbecues, the scent of cheap bug repellent hanging off the air. She wanted caramel flavoured coffee and pavlova, burning sand between her toes. It seemed she'd missed an awful lot, and the thought left her a little startled. 

She almost moved to answer. Almost. Instead, she discarded the paper towel around her finger, turning around to face him. She wasn't sure why she was so reluctant to ask – God knew she'd been craving pumpkin spice for weeks. Foolish as it was, perhaps a small part of her never quite managed to come to terms with owing people, favours, sentiments or otherwise, though the thought was quickly banished from her mind. She chalked it down to professionalism, as she did with most things. "You said you had something for me to sign?" she asked briskly, the words coming out far colder than she'd intended.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

Sam nodded sagely, as if that was exactly what he’d feared. “I’m sorry, fair maiden of the bar. Know that my heart was here, dreaming of these sweet nectars. I was forced called away by duty.” His smile faltered a little. The mission hadn’t been a successful one. He’d worked off a lot of his anxiety by spending the evening with Madison, but once he left her, he realized he needed more than hot chocolate if he was going to get any sleep that night.   

Sam poured both of them a drink and pulled up another chair, gazing into his glass. 

"So how was business? Did I miss anything good tonight?"

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren let a small chuckle out of her lips, before continuing on solemnly. "Gallant knights such as yourself mustn't order drinks with such apathy, my good sir. You might give a poor girl the wrong idea." She took the glass eagerly, downing the drink, humming in satisfaction as the liquid scorched its way down her throat. She'd allow herself to indulge tonight, she decided.

"You'll be glad to know Briscoe's ran just fine without your most generous contribution. Oh, and some guy threw up on your usual seat. Thought you'd like to know." She look up out of the window, first hints of daylight spreading over the horizon. "Any reason you're out so late, or are you just fond of lonely late night booze runs?"

[omgstewartt]

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Owen

[owen-frank]

Owen returned the smile - sometimes people weren’t excited to see him, especially when it was obvious he was out on business. He walked further into the bar, releasing the loose hold he had had on his light coat for the entire walk over.

"G’morning, er,night?" He chuckled. Owen had always wondered about the timeline they kept - he supposed it was very fortunate that the planet had taken to a similar one to Earth; it would’ve been harder to keep track if it hadn’t. Or had they chosen this place because of that?

"I just need your signature on something - some kind of permit for the bar. I suppose it got overlooked in the chaos of setting up." He paused. "I was going to say it’s a good thin the security team didn’t notice, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter much anyway. I think people here would riot before they let someone take it away from you, right?"

[lauren--mackenzie]

She allowed herself to relax, even offering Owen a small smile – a genuine one, this time. It wasn't difficult to see why he'd been chosen to lead the team. Upbeat, charismatic without even having to try at it, he had a way of making people feel at ease around him, a department where Lauren knew she was lacking. It seemed the same thing that'd made her a businesswoman was also why she-...wasn't. The thought was a little too loud to be shaken from her mind.

"Yes, the affection the colony holds for me is smothering, at times," she deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. There was a time when she liked to think she was considered the grouchy sidekick, mocked fondly behind her back, though now she knew she was simply held with varying degrees of apathy. She was rather proud of the fact, if she thought about it; such a status was difficult to maintain in such a small population. "Hey, while you're here, mind mentioning something about the stores to the big guys?" she called back, loading the final glasses into the trays. "We're almost out of vodka, and the oafs you send down don't seem to understand that you need booze to run a bar."

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"I know you are," Sam grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. "I’m not trying to baby you. I’ve seen you hold your own against plenty of drunks." He swiped a few peanut shells off the counter and slid the cloth under Lauren’s hand before pouring a tiny splash of vodka over the cut. 

"So what happened tonight? You seem a bit more frazzled than usual. Wait, let me guess. You missed me, right? Noticed I wasn’t here for once?" He smiled animatedly, wiggling his eyebrows. Sam didn’t mind joking at his own expense as long as it made others feel better. Rejecting the notion and brushing him off might be just what Lauren needed to ease the deep frown etched into her face. 

[lauren--mackenzie]

She sighed softly, almost relishing in the sting that spread from her hand. The prickling of her skin signalled the beginning of recovery, healing. This she had learnt as a child. A small part of her mourned the loss of the vodka; it seemed hard liquor was the choice of many in the colony, and stores had been rather low lately.

Lauren almost smiled at his antics. Almost. It was rare that anyone took the time to talk to her, much less joke with her. Some days, it was difficult to remember that she didn't exist for the sole purpose of keeping the bar running. She moved to object – frazzled wasn't the appropriate word in the least – though she couldn't quite manage the frown the statement would require. "Yes," she said instead, in perfect deadpan. "Your absence has brought upon me much pain and sorrow, leaving me to spiral through the darkness you have left in my soul, among the shards of my shattered heart." She arched an eyebrow in challenge.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"I wouldn’t be surprised," Sam agreed, finishing with the chairs and dragging one behind the bar for Lauren. "It tends to run in families, so who knows how contagious it might be. Have a seat, boss. I’ll finish up here." He’d spent enough years as a flighty bartender to know the drill. 

"Nice one," Sam whistled, eyeing the shallow cut that Lauren handled so tenderly. He pulled a bottle of vodka from the shelf and grabbed a napkin. "May I?" Sam flashed her his most innocent smile, lifting the bottle to indicate he wanted to disinfect the wound. "With so many alien germs around, you’d best play it safe."

[lauren--mackenzie]

She eyed him dubiously for a moment, unsure of his motives. She'd learnt in her time that generosity and kindness rarely came without a price of some sort, though that knowledge no longer held the same amount of truth in the colony. Something about being on an alien planet seemed to band people together, it seemed, or some cliche like that, though she couldn't say the same about herself. Still, she sat herself down in the chair he brought over, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly over the skin of her wrist.

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." It wasn't as if the cut was serious – it was more of a scratch, really – a small slither of red across the knuckle of her index finger, but it would need disinfecting. This she knew. It wouldn't do to have made it so far and be brought down by a petty bacterial infection. Despite, or perhaps in spite, of her words, she slid her hand onto the bench, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Sam

[davis-benson-blog]

"That’s alright. I can serve myself," Sam called, forcing a smile across the room. His eyes took in the shattered glass, and he tipped his head thoughtfully. Lauren was always a bit rowdy, you had to be to deal with the customers here, but tonight she seemed a bit grouchier than usual. 

"Maybe I can make you a drink too. You look like you need one." Sam lifted a couple of chairs as he made his way across the room, turning them upside down in the table tops so the janitors could sweep underneath. 

[lauren--mackenzie]

The accent threw her off for a moment, caught her off guard; to be spoken to directly by someone that sounded so much like home was-…unsettling. Home had been a frequent topic on her mind lately, something she wasn’t sure she liked. Shaking away the thought, she raised an eyebrow in response, turning to face the intruder.  It took her a moment to place his face. She’d caught his name in passing – Sam, she recalled. A regular. (Mojito on Sundays? Or perhaps that was the other blond.) – though she didn’t remember much more than that. She blew a few stray strands of hair out of her face and let out a defeated sigh. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. “Knock yourself out.”

Though the cut on her hand wasn’t deep, the sting bothered her more than she cared to admit, and she mumbled a quiet “thanks” as the rest of the chairs were put up. On another day, she might’ve insisted he leave, perhaps mumble a few choice words on his way out, but, frankly, she simply didn’t have the energy. If she were someone else and not Lauren Mackenzie, owner of Briscoe’s, she might have even admitted she was grateful for the quiet company, but that truth was a little too-…true for her to think about. “I always need a drink,” she said instead, leaning back against the bar. “Think it might come with being around drunk people all the time. Might be contagious or something.”

[imteamkstew-original]

[lauren--mackenzie]

Brittle Bones || Lauren & Owen

[owen-frank]

Owen wasn’t one for late nights purely because he didn’t like them, but once again, he found himself at the mercy of restlessness and an odd, overbearing tension. He scrambled out of bed, his movements twitchy and inconsistent, and went to get dressed quickly before grabbing his tablet and heading out to the lounge area. It was quiet, but after he put some music, it was enough to distract himself for a moment. When he noticed something, though, Owen frowned to himself.

As it turned out, somewhere along the line, someone had forgotten to grab Lauren Mackenzie’s signature on some of the bar permits. Owen glanced at the digital clock - it was late enough that she was probably still there, and if not, then a walk might calm him down anyway. Grabbing a light coat, he left the apartment and trodded down to the bar. Owen personally didn’t often drink, as it reacted funny with some of his meds, but sometimes the company of the bar was something different.

As soon as he entered, he heard her telltale voice somewhere from inside.

"It’s just Owen, got a couple of things I need clear up." He stepped inside, smiling disarmingly. "Promise you don’t need to break anything out on my account."

[lauren--mackenzie]

Lauren relaxed a little at the familiar voice, wrapping a paper towel around her finger, and turned to face him. She didn't think she could handle with another customer at this point, but dealing with Owen was easy, uncomplicated. He wasn't bawdy or smug, and most importantly, he didn't push with things that didn't concern him. She supposed, in a way, she was almost glad that it was his company rather than anyone else in the colony, though that wasn't to say she wouldn't rather be on her own.

Still, apprehension clouded through her mind at his presence. Owen's presence usually meant paperwork, or that something had gone wrong, or a complication that then lead to more paperwork, and she couldn't deal with any of those things at the moment. Still she forced a tense smile, polite at best, onto her features, gesturing for him to take a seat. "What have you got for me, Owen?"