Get caught in Qrow’s bull

Specialist Winter Schnee of the Atlesian Military stepped into the dreary little bar in downtown Vale and frowned severely at the slumped figure of Qrow Branwen at the back of the counter. Ignoring the bartender’s abortive attempts to get her order, she marched up to the elder Huntsman and gave a pointed cough for his attention.

After several long moments of stillness that the icy young woman knew were deliberate after catching the minute stiffening of his shoulders, Qrow finally deigned to lift his face towards her with what she assumed he thought was a roguish grin.

“Hey there Ice Sculpture. Fancy a drink?”

“Hardly, Mr. Branwen,” Winter spoke as archly as she could, “You missed a debriefing by General Ironwood.”

“Ah, ol’ Jamie is as glad to see less of me as the other way around,” the scruffy scythe-wielder brushed off the admonishment, “And if he had anything important for me to hear, Oz would have already told me.”

Winter squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, “Mister Branwen, I won’t deny that you are evidently a valuable asset to the cause even at your worst, nor dismiss the kind of hardships you must of been put through in your line of duty, but you cannot carry on like this; shirking your allies and daily responsibilities to drown your sorrows in-“

“Nah girl,” Qrow sat up fully now, lean and haggard, all bird bones and metal shards, “You don’t come to The Cobra’s Well to drown your sorrows,” he was smiling bitterly now, a hard glint in his eyes like garnets as he gestured around him, and Winter paid attention for the first time to the scattered array of scarred, unfriendly faces shooting them side-eyed, sullen glares for disrupting the quiet, “Ya come to swim with them.”

Winter didn’t know how to reply.

They regarded each other awkwardly like that for a while, before Qrow relaxed back into his wannabe-playboy smile and carried on, “‘Course if you want to get drunk, we need to find someplace more scenic.”

“I already told you, I-“

“Didn’t say no to wanting to get smashed,” Qrow smirked, “I heard ya distinctly.” He turned to the barkeep looming over them, “a pick-me-up for the road, if you could.” He muttered, sliding a sizable wad of bills as he pulled himself to his feet. The surly owner lumbered over towards the back without a word.

“Mister Branwen-“ Winter continued to attempt to snap.

“Oh, enough of that already,” he waggled a hand at her, “you don’t respect me enough to want to hold up formality, so just drop it. I know for a fact you’re off-duty for the rest of the weekend too. So come on, let your hair down for just one night and see how your feel about me by the end of it. We can go bar-hopping in the actual fun part of town, or-“ he rambled on as the returning barkeep pressed a bottle in his hand and shoved him in the direction of the door, “we can go somewhere private and split this bottle of schnapps. You look like a girl with a taste for schnapps.”

Her mother certainly was, the last time she saw her, and she really didn’t want to be emulating that, “I can’t-“

“C’mon Winter,” Qrow was looking at her again, but his eyes were a softer now, tone vaguely placating, “One binge session isn’t going to turn you into a sad old sponge like me. Building a habit takes more than that, and you clearly have a way better handle on your shit than I ever did. If nothing else, it’ll give you some firsthand experience to swear on when you wake up tomorrow and promise yourself you’ll never drink again.”

Winter but her lip as she studied Qrow’s face, what she was searching for, she had no clue. Internally debated the advisability of allowing herself to get talked into this, and to her shock she found herself leaning towards wanting to give in. She was finding Qrow... an intriguing figure, and had been wondering since her coming of age and discovery of General Ironwood’s scotch cabinet if her detestment of **** was overblown by her mother’s bad example. Just the one time, to see what the hook was and to make full use of her break, then she could go back to trying futilely to make the rest of her world shape up.

“Fine. Let’s go, and if the **** induced idiocy we wind up in goes beyond reasonable bounds, I will make you suffer.”

Qrow scoffed and slouched after her towards the exit. “I’ll take that chance if you will.”