kore_logs | I don't feel like calming down, no I don't

Who: Charlie Luciano and Ned
What: Fine scotch is the perfect apology for accidental kidnapping, right?
When: Day 67
Where: Ned's place again (man he needs to get a guard dog all these gangsters are finding him)
Warnings: Really really terrible attempts at apologies. Also booze!

To be perfectly fair to Charlie, he had been planning on coming to see Ned himself. So all the nagging he'd got from Meyer about it was completely unnecessary. He'd been aware of Meyer paying his own visit the other day, and figured he just had to bite the bullet and go for it. With the two of them trying to set up their game in town, it would be damn stupid to leave yourself with any potential enemies when the problem could be cleared up with a little dialogue.

Not that dialogue was Charlie's forte. Which is why he brought a peace offering.

He'd found the bottle of scotch under the floorboards in the closet of his room. And yes, he'd looked under the floorboards. It had been a very long week stuck indoors and it had made him feel marginally better to at least pretend he was hunting for treasure.

Which is why Charlie is holding a bottle of rather nice scotch with him as he rings the doorbell. He's dressed down from his usual suit, as they finally decided to make an attempt to blend in a little more. And the knees of his suit pants were wearing through. He's in jeans and a modern-looking jacket, with his hair curly and sticking up everywhere without the usual pomade.

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Meyer's already walking to the door as soon as he hears Charlie and what sounds like Ned outside -- it's true, they're not exactly being stealthy, and he thinks he can hear a certain element of drunkenness in their voices. If that's anything to go by, Charlie's going to have a hard time unlocking the door (who doesn't get a little clumsy when they're drunk, after all) and so he preempts the struggle, opening the door to see them standing outside.

"Hello," he says, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly at Charlie, perhaps wordlessly indicating that it seems that the intended apology had gone well, perhaps wordlessly indicating that he can smell the alcohol on both of them.

There is no other word to describe the way that Ned waves at Meyer other than gleeful. He'd seen the man only that morning, but under the influence of all the whiskey, and Charlie's statement that the two of them should get drunk together again sometime, he's feeling a lot more effusive than he normally would be. There's no mistaking how drunk he and Charlie are; Ned, for his part, is red-cheeked and swaying a very little on his feet, even as he stands there.

"Hey Meyer. Fancy seeing you here."

"You're home!" This is clearly a discovery worthy of Charlie stepping inside and engulfing Meyer in a boney, uncoordinated hug.

"Of course I'm home, where else would I--"

Of all the things he'd been expecting (drunken stumbling, loud laughter, incomprensible speech) a hug had clearly not been on the list. He quickly tries to determine whether it would be more awkward and conspicuous to step out of the hug and evade Charlie, or to hug him back with a firm clap on the shoulder and some kind of clever statement about their drunkenness.

Unfortunately, his brain settles for somewhere in the middle, and he simply stands there stiffly as Charlie hugs him, muttering under his breath, "What are you doing?"

Ned doesn't hear the mutter, or appear to think anything much of the hug. He's happy to see Meyer, happy to see that Charlie is happy to see Meyer, and feeling even chattier than usual.

"Thought I'd make sure he didn't wander off the dock or into the woods or anything." Because Ned is clearly a sober, responsible chaperone, right now, what with the way he seems to take two of three tries to get his hands into his pockets.

"Anyone ever told you you're way too nice of a fucking guy, huh?" He pulls back from Meyer so he can give Ned an affectionate cuff around the back of his head. Really, what a stellar guy. They need to keep him around. That's certainly what the grin he's shooting in Meyer's direction is implying.

"Yes, thank you, Ned," he says, and it's not sarcastic in the least. Ned may not be sober -- not even close, as near as Meyer can tell -- but there's safety in numbers, after all, and he wouldn't put it past Charlie to wander off into the woods or manage to walk into someone else's house entirely by accident.

He gives Charlie a slight smile, agreeing, at least in part, with Charlie's grin. He does like Ned, he seems like a genuinely nice guy, and genuinely nice guys are in short supply. It couldn't hurt to make friends with him, and he's glad Charlie seems to have managed that.

As soon as the clearly very important hair-ruffling is done, he moves back to leaning on Meyer. He's an excellent height to use for balance, actually. And then it makes it so damn easy for him to lean down and whisper into his ear.

"I gotta an idea about whats we should be doing tonight."

That was not a particularly quiet whisper, Charlie. Subtlety isn't necessarily Charlie's strong suit in general, but apparently it's even less so when he's drinking. He can only hope that Ned didn't hear any of that, or that if he did, it somehow went over his head -- although how could it?

It's difficult to hide the slight redness that rises to his cheeks, but he does take a determined step away from Charlie and give him a look. "I think you need to get some sleep, Charlie. Thanks again, Ned."

"Sure," Ned says, smile never dimming. There is a moment where he looks at Charlie and Meyer as if puzzled. He's not intoxicated enough to miss their little exchange, even if he isn't sure of the context of it. Still, none of his business, is it? Meyer's dismissal, polite as it may be, is clear. He lifts one hand for a final wave before turning around and staggering off, vaguely in the direction of his house, though he changes his mind at the last minute and heads another way, entirely.

I don't feel like calming down, no I don't

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