oom: outside of new york city

It's a small town, on the outskirts of the state, he's not quite sure where he's at but he's not quite sure of anything at the moment because he's too far gone, mentally and physically, to give a damn.

The bar's noisy and that's what he wants, slipping inside and blending in with the crowd, even if the dark coat isn't quite normal dress code, but he doesn't care. He wants a drink and a door back to Milliways.

"You've gotta check your guns," the bartender says, as he's pouring the first shot of brandy.

"I'd rather not," Doc comments, as he reaches for the glass and downs it in a single swallow.

( Rules are rules. Sometimes you have to break them. )

oom: outside of milliways sorta

After returning from Green Lake the night before, Doc had a promise to keep to Miss Katherine in regards to the stables and taking her out riding for a proper tour of the grounds. And even with the immediate exit blocked by strange plants and vines, he'd gone out early to take care of the cleaning, feeding, and general work that he'd missed over the last few days before slipping back in for breakfast and to have a waitrat deliver a note upstairs to her room while he got changed into more riding-appropriate clothes.

The note (which she'll find along with the clothes Bar has most likely helpfully left for her upstairs -- don't ask how the rat got in to leave it, these things just happen) says simply that he'll be out in the stables after she's had breakfast and is ready, but not to rush, and to avoid angering the strange plants and she'll be just fine walking through.

So when she does wander outside, she'll catch him singing if she's quiet walking into the stables. It's a more modern song, but one that he heard while in the bar one day and it caught his interest and he's heard it enough that he's got a little bit of it memorized.

"Well Maggie was my true love, the only kiss I knew
I’d meet her at the oak tree in the cool evening dew
Where we would walk beside the levee, our fingers intertwined
While the crimson moon gazed through the needles of the pines

We’d lay beside each other, staring at the sky
Listenin’ to the whistlin’ of the train blowin’ by..."

That's all he knows, so he trails off towards the middle of the verse.

She'll find that he's in one of the store rooms gathering up the tack they'll need for two horses, and there's a few papers pinned to the wall near the door with his handwriting on them, notes and lists of feed and supplies, reminders, that sort of thing.