[Climate change is a bitch. Though if he stays long enough, he'll get to experience the other extreme when things get Hoth-level frozen.]
Right, yeah, sorry. Wynonna. [It's a name on the local's lips often enough to have been overheard, probably. And not usually spoken in the kindest of tones.
There's more than a little about her social skills to probably remind him of a certain Miss Jones. Definitely a similar ratio of whiskey to recklessness.]
Just figured someone should actually try talking to you before the whole town decides you're a serial killer. Which is totally unfair, our serial killers are all home-grown around here. [She's kidding, right? Right?]
[Trying to rid the immediate association between whiskey and a strong, independent woman is going to take more than a building falling on him. The flash of Miss Jones's memory is what keeps him more calm than he would be with a concealed weapon.]
Pleasure to meet you.
[...that's what a person not running would say. Ahem. Matt takes another sip of his drink.]
A....serial killer. [Just the way the words come out all smooth, casual. Just does not sit right. He still has the good sense to shrug and laugh a little.]
That would be the first time anyone's thought of me that way. [That he's aware of.] I'm not here to cause any trouble.
Well, it's the fist time anyone's ever been pleased to meet me, so I guess it's a night for firsts.
[There's a little shuffling and the sound of skin against warm leather, and a gun finding home in its holster at her hip.]
You're cute, so I'll take you at your word, Matty. [And Peacemaker's pretty convinced he's not a demon, so yay!] Lemme get your next round to make up for interrupting your drink.
[Somewhere in New York, Foggy is feeling a sense of foreboding that he can't explain. Matt no. No, Matt.]
[That either means that manners are dead and gone or Jessica Jones has a long lost sibling. Oh good. The gun is out of the way. Trust and believe that Matt makes a note of it's existence. Just in case.]
Ah, thank you. [The promise of more alcohol gets a sincere grin.] You uh usually welcome people this way, Wynonna?
[Tingling? Foreboding? For all his heightened senses and past blunders Matt...carries on the only way he knows how.]
no subject
Right, yeah, sorry. Wynonna. [It's a name on the local's lips often enough to have been overheard, probably. And not usually spoken in the kindest of tones.
There's more than a little about her social skills to probably remind him of a certain Miss Jones. Definitely a similar ratio of whiskey to recklessness.]
Just figured someone should actually try talking to you before the whole town decides you're a serial killer. Which is totally unfair, our serial killers are all home-grown around here. [She's kidding, right? Right?]
no subject
Pleasure to meet you.
[...that's what a person not running would say. Ahem. Matt takes another sip of his drink.]
A....serial killer. [Just the way the words come out all smooth, casual. Just does not sit right. He still has the good sense to shrug and laugh a little.]
That would be the first time anyone's thought of me that way. [That he's aware of.] I'm not here to cause any trouble.
no subject
[There's a little shuffling and the sound of skin against warm leather, and a gun finding home in its holster at her hip.]
You're cute, so I'll take you at your word, Matty. [And Peacemaker's pretty convinced he's not a demon, so yay!] Lemme get your next round to make up for interrupting your drink.
[Somewhere in New York, Foggy is feeling a sense of foreboding that he can't explain. Matt no. No, Matt.]
no subject
Ah, thank you. [The promise of more alcohol gets a sincere grin.] You uh usually welcome people this way, Wynonna?
[Tingling? Foreboding? For all his heightened senses and past blunders Matt...carries on the only way he knows how.]
no subject
[The drink comes quickly enough, as does Wynonna's next round. It's a different brand than Jessica's usual poison, at least.]
Should I leave you to your drink, Matt? Or should I try to be a little more neighbourly?