fandomtownies | Caritas, Saturday Evening

Entry tags:

$caritas

Caritas, Saturday Evening

By the time Ellen got to the bar, the zombies had downgraded to humming enthusiastically - which was marginally better, since they weren't trying to form words anymore.

Ellen still thought it was unnerving, but anything was better than the singing.

[OOC: I'm here for your drinking needs, but feel free to mod Tino if you prefer.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They seem to be humming Bad Moon Rising (http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/mygirl/badmoonrising.htm) at the moment.

Ellen was humming along as well, though not at all on purpose.

Rory had spent the afternoon in her room, quietly, until she had decided to do something with the glitter that she'd purchased the other day.

As of that moment, Julius Casear had blinked, deeply confused, and set about making himself more confortable in the strange room he had been afforded.

The garments simply wouldn't do - he suspected that perhaps the confusion of his body was merely some strange trick of the enemy, or perhaps a shade too much wine earlier - and neither would staying in the tiny room.

So Gaius Julius Caesar - or, more appropriately, Rory Gilmore in a toga (also known to some as a "bedsheet") with a crown of laurels (or, you know, leaves) - strode into Caritas, recognizing the name as the sounds of his own home here in a barbarian country.

He looked around for a servant, and spotting one behind the bar, took a seat (though he would have much preferred a lectus, but such lounging positions weren't wise for a ruler without counsel or protection) and called, "Wine?"

Ellen arched an eyebrow as she walked down the bar, nodding to Rory. "Sure thing," she said easily. "Any preference, sweetie?"

"The finest, of course," Caesar said, as though he didn't understand why anyone would ask such a stupid question. Then he paused. "...sweetie?"

Bemused, Ellen had Tino bring the wine in a glass, setting it down in front of the bedsheeted girl. "Sorry I just call everyone 'honey' or 'sweetie'," she said, though not sounding nearly so apologetic given Rory's apparent attitude.

"You may call me Caesar," he said.

Ellen blinked. "Oh may I?" she echoed.

"It should be your pleasure," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"I can think of a lot more things I'd be pleased to do, young lady," Ellen said, dry tone laced liberally with disdain.

"Young lady," he repeated. "Have you poor sight?"

Ellen gave Rory a sharp look, thrown off by how Rory had asked that question. "Well, what else would I call a not-very-old, female person sitting at my bar?"

"I am neither female nor in my youth," Caesar retorted.

"You do a pretty credible impression then," she said, now looking suspiciously at Rory. "Where are you from?"

"Rome," he snorted derisively. "Where else should I be from?"

Ellen had no idea who Rory was, but the idea of a teenage girl actually being Caesar was a little hard to swallow. She grunted and reached out, taking the wine glass and emptying it behind the bar. "I think you've had enough for tonight, sweetie."

"I am not 'sweetie!'" Caesar raged. "And you have just made a fatal mistake. You'll be lucky if you're crucified for your imperti - "

Rory's eyes glazed over for a second before she went, "...oh my God. Oh, my God."

In her normal, apologetic tone, she said, "I am so, so sorry."

And then bolted.

Ellen's eyes widened slightly as she watched Rory escape. "Threat of crucifixion," she murmured. "That's a new one..."

Rosette came into the bar with Father Remington ~~who will soon be joining in~~, babbling still the benefits of living in a society without prohibition. As she took to a stool at the bar, she considered what other drinks might be considered suitably light enough for a nun who should only drink (har har) in moderation.

She ordered another damn Appletini.

And cursed that blonde kid for ever introducing them to her.

And in come Mr and Mrs Claus. They're already singing nonsense songs, things that have no meaning.

"We're at bar, husband!" Mrs Claus danced around. "Every bar needs some cheer!"

"HO HO HO!" Santa greeted. "Merry Christmas, Caritas!"

"There's a lovely lady who looks oh so lonely behind the bar," Mrs Claus said. "Should we spread our warmth and love to her?"

Ellen eyed them both; when it rained kids with identity issues in weird clothes in Fandom, it apparently poured kids with identity issues in weird clothes. "What can I do for you two tonight?"

"Oh oh tut tut," Mrs Claus said and sidled up to the bar. "Now, we're here to do something for you. Would you like a song? A song of love from me and my husband?"

Ellen smirked. "Honey, as long as you're not going to crucify me and you're not a zombie, go on and sing whatever you like."

"Splendid," Mrs Claus said. "Honey bear, what should we sing to the woman who enjoys that we're not zombies?"

"I think a classic is in order!" Santa cleared his throat. "Aaaaawaaaay in a Maaaanger, no crib for a beeeed, the little baby gremlin lay down his slimey heeeead."

"The stars the drunk man saw while he was toasted looked down upon where the gremlin lay! The little baby gremlin lay down in the way!"

"The teal deer are lowing, the gremlin awakes!
But little baby gremlin, no crying he makes
Instead he stood up and looked up at the sky!
Then bit all the humans who idly stood byyyyy!"

Ellen laughed. "Cute! All right, so I don't have eggnog for you, but you kids want something else for your song instead?"

"Hmmm." Mrs Claus thought about it. "Got any cookies back there? Singing makes us very tired."

Grinning, Ellen told Tino to get some cookies - he came out with a baggie full of snack mix and a bagel for each of them. "Looks like that's all we've got, boys," Ellen said apologetically. "But thanks for the song, all the same."

"Thank you, kind lady! Merry Christmas! And a Happy New Year! When it gets here."

"And happy birthday too!" Mrs Claus added. "Happy 24th birthday!"

Ellen snorted indelicately and flicked a bar rag at them. "All right, have a good night," she said dryly.

"Thanks," Mrs Claus said and walked out of Caritas.

For your lounging needs.

To keep the post together.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Caritas, Saturday Evening

The Stage

The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

Re: The Bar

The Lounge

OOC