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Caritas [Thursday evening]

Robin was really, really bored when she opened Caritas. Everyone she usually expected to come into the bar was in freaking Mexico. God.

She amused herself by making up some new drinks, specifically with grenadine, if she could, and writing down the recipes. No reason.

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Where you can sing. Robin would welcome the entertainment.

Where the bartender is!

Where the bartender isn't.

I am around if a mite slow whooo!

Karal had been working all day.

His head ached, his eyes ached, and he was exhausted - at least his brain was. Mindful that he needed to take a break, and expecting that - with nearly everyone in Mexico - it wouldn't be crowded, Karal made his way down to Caritas.

He smiled politely at the woman behind the bar and took a seat. "Good evening."

"Hi," Robin said, looking up from her notes and smiling at the new kid. "What can I get you?"

"Beer," came the request as the duffel bag flopped to the ground beside him. He looked a little like a hobo and a little like a madman. And a lot like--

"If you would, please."

He'd worked at a job. He felt dirty.

Robin looked up and grinned, looking just the tiniest bit puzzled, though it was shadowed by her happiness. "Hey you! Trip get cut short?"

"A beer, please, but not from a bottle." His stomach chose that moment to remind him that it had thus far been ignored today. Loudly. "And possibly some nuts, if you have any?" he added, going slightly red.

Robin raised her eyebrows and nodded, getting both a beer and a little dish of nuts. "No Mexico for you?"

Huh?

His head tilted to the side and he looked like nothing so much as a confused old dog being presented with a new trick. A stupid new trick.

"Trip?" he asked, a zing to the last consonant that spoke of a lack of amusement.

Robin raised an eyebrow dryly. "So it went as badly as you thought? Crap. I'm sorry, honey. No wonder you're drinking."

She got him a beer, more than a little surprised that he'd actually asked for one. Something about him did look a little off, but she figured it was just Mexico.

The head tilted in the other direction. Honey?

"I'm drinking because--"

Wait. Why was this a question?

"What?"

"Usually I have to talk you into it," she said, shrugging. Someone was grumpy. "Your hair looks different. It's cute."

He fingered his own hair for a minute--

Cute? Is "hobo" in these days?

looked down at himself--

Am I dressed like a priest or something?

and then peered at her in a manner akin to a science teacher having a particularly troublesome time with a dissection because the spleen is in the wrong place and the wrong color.

"Ma'am," he said very very carefully, something faintly manic in his squinting eyes, "I don't usually ask this, considering, but... are you perhaps mentally ill?"

Robin stared at him, frowning. "No...did you totally ignore my advice and take some candy from some strangers down there? And did you get extensions? Seriously, what is up with your hair?"

"No," he groused, though his words picked up speed and fervor as he went, like a massive boulder rolling down a hill "I was down selling bananas to the masses all day. I certainly didn't eat any candy. I don't even really like candy. I didn't ignore your advice because I didn't hear your advice because I've never met you before five minutes ago and there is nothing up with my hair, I don't have extensions, for fuck's sake, and are you on some manner of recreational or medicinal substance, madame?"

Robin had quite a bit to reply to that, but there was one very important thing to note first.

"...did you just swear?"

She was now really, genuinely worried.

His eyes went wide.

"Did I just--of course, I just fucking swore. I swear all the fucking time."

"Fuck. Ass. Fucking. Cocksucker. Bloody. Buggering. Shit. Bastard. Whore--" each one perfectly enunciated, with brilliant diction and clarity, "should I go on or is the circus closing up shop?"

"Thank you," he said, sliding some money across the bar. "And no. I have too much work to do. Though I'm not sure I'd have gone even if I didn't."

A realization was slowly dawning. Very, very slowly. Give the girl a break, she wasn't used to the town yet. "...Benton?"

"God, why not? I would go if I could," she said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone got to go. My boyfriend, my best friend here, all the little students I like. I mean, except you. You're not part of that group yet since I don't know you."

"Geoffrey," he snarled. He rolled his eyes and took a long pull on the beer.

"I've never even played a Benton," he continued with a moody look at her.

"Are you quite done? Because even I get a little tired of the crazy routine after a while and I really need this beer."

"No, no no no no, oh, my god, it's like Barney's mini-him. And Not-Lily. I, um. I'm so sorry," Robin said, just a tad flaily and wide-eyed. "I -- are you new? Um. Because you look exactly like my -- like someone I know? Except your hair? And he's in Mexico, and I'm really, really sorry. I promise I'm not crazy."

He snorted.

"I am. It's not all that upsetting," he said placidly enough, now that she was making some kind of sense. He could usually deal with insanity (he was in the theatre, after all) but he'd spent the day in the banana stand and that was enough to test anyone's patience.

"Not that I have any idea what you're saying now, but this is better," he admitted. "Less with the familiar. It's an improvement."

There was a pause.

"Who is this now?"

Because he felt sorry for the poor son of a bitch.

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Caritas [Thursday evening]

The Stage [02/28]

The Bar [02/28]

The Lounge [02/28]

OOC [02/28]

Re: The Bar [02/28]

Re: The Bar [02/28]

Re: The Bar [02/28]

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