fandomtownies | Caritas, Thursday, 8/25

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Caritas, Thursday, 8/25

"Hey!" There was no one behind the bar. Tino was outside on a 'smoke' break. "I want to be served."

No one seemed inclined to help Kenzi out with that. She frowned. Then climbed up on the bar and dropped onto the other side, helping herself to a bottle of rum. One of the zombies might have been looking in her direction. "What are you looking at?"

The eye wandered away hastily.

Caritas is open! And there is a small hyper person handing out alcohol. And possibly overcharging you, if she doesn't give the booze to you for free.

[ooc: Kenzi will be a new bartender next week. This week, she's just amusing herself. I'll be home to pick up pings in 2 hours. ]

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The zombies are doing reggae. And trying not to meet Kenzi's eyes.

Kenzi was now determined to make the Best Drink Ever. It was like chemistry! Maybe she could get credit for it!

Hang out in a quieter venue. With T1N0 to serve you pretzels.

The TV is still playing stuff from the 1950's. That poor Sputnik Puppy.

Kenzi's bartending skills are suspect. Thanks to the proprietor for letting her off the leash here.

Back at 7:30PM EST.

Hercules entered the bar and sat down with a happy thump onto a stool.

"Barlady, please get me a large mug, and fill it to the brim," he said. "Tonight is a good night for drinking."

Kenzi shot him with the finger-guns, sized him up, and brought out a pitcher. Which she filled with three kinds of beer.

"Twenty dollars, please!"

Yes, Caritas will be making a profit tonight.

"...is that including the tip?" Hercules said, thinking that seemed a mite high.

Hey, he wasn't actually stupid, he'll have you know.

What stupid? This was Kenzi. Momentum was all, not believability.

"1956 prices," she said with a completely straight face. "I swear. Tino said so."

Tino shot the crazy woman a look of confusion from his end of the bar.

"Or hey, I can drink what you don't."

"Wouldn't 1956 prices be cheaper?" Hercules said. "I remember there being differences."

Hercules was quite old, after all. Not that he spent too much time worrying about money or economics and the like.

"But these are premium beers, prepared by a mixologist. Very rare for '56," Kenzi said, shaking her head sadly. She scooched the pitcher close to him. "What, you want a bigger container? I think we have a punch bowl back here."

"I think that would test my mortal metabolism a little too hard," Hercules said. "You drive a hard bargain, woman of Dionysus. But here is your twenty dollars."

He was, in fact, wearing pants, so he had a wallet from which he produced the Andrew Jackson and placed it upon the bar.

"As it stands, I may have shaky footing heading back to my humble apartment!"

"You, sir, are a scholar and a gentleman," Kenzi said gravely. Then did a happy dance with the Andrew Jackson, much to Tino's dismay.

"And we, the proud employees of this establishment--" As of 30 seconds ago. "Would be happy to call you a pedi-cab. They can strap you to the roof if you want, and take you home!"

"I am neither," Hercules said, pointing a finger. His tone and expression were playful, however. "You take back that accusation this instant!"

He then laughed, because he was having fun.

"Dude, I recant." Good word, 'recant.' "I don't know what I was thinking. You're an untutored Visigoth. Drink up!"

"You're a bit off, geographically," Hercules said. "But to think, the Visigoths, modern day has reduced their name to a tribe of over-make-upped gloomy people. I am quite proud to not have been a member of their number."

"Speaking as a member of the PerkiGoth tribe, I'm gonna assume you didn't meant to give offense," Kenzi told him. "'Cause my use of eyeliner is appropriate to barbarian or Cleopatra."

Hercules paused for a moment. "I thought the Visigoths were mercenaries, not barbarians?" he said, trying to remember his history.

It was hard, he got hit in the head a lot.

Like she was there for that class? "They ravaged. And pillaged. I don't know if it was for love or money. Or possibly a protest against being lumped in with those Vandal types," Kenzi said sagely. "Pretty sure Rome lost, though."

"Ahhh, Rome," Hercules said. "Now that was a different time indeed. Though I always preferred Greece, of course."

The customer is Always Right. Even when you're not really a bartender. So Kenzi took that in stride, just assuming the big guy was crazy. "Why? Better booze?"

"It is where I was born, of course," Hercules said.

He paused.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"To be fair, I don't know who a lot of people are. I just got here." Kenzi grinned cheerfully. "Will I be hella impressed?"

"I hope so," Hercules said, smirking a bit. "I am Hercules. Son of Zeus."

"Wicked!" Kenzi beamed. "So, wasn't there a thing with some stables? Dude. Nasty." Yeah, that was the one that stuck in her head. And the lion-thing. "I'm Kenzi. Daughter of Opportunity Knocks."

"Oh yes, the labors," Hercules said, though he didn't actually do the one with the stables. That had been done by an Eternal who was posing as Hercules. "I take it your father is a hippie?"

"Mom, actually," Kenzi said without breaking verbal stride. "You know how these things go. Reclaim the maternal line of something-or-other. Dad's just Latvian."

...and none of that was actually totally untrue, either.

"Indeed," Hercules said. "The Latvians are good people, though. I must assume your father is noble in heart."

Kenzi gave him a blank look, and almost said, Why? Then nodded philosophically and said, "In his heart, yup, he is." In his actions, well... water under the bridge, over the damn, down the river, what the ever. No longer relevant, anyway. "So, what're you doing in Fandom, when you're a Greek God Legend Type?"

"Well, I am teaching, of course!" Hercules said. "This coming semester I will send students through trials that will have them emerge all the better! A set of labors that will test each and every person."

"Dude, not to be mean, but glad I'm not in your class." Kenzi grinned and poured herself a Coke, slurping it through a crazy straw. "I love how easy this school is."

"You do not fancy yourself a hero or adventurer?" Hercules said, before taking a gulp of his pitcher.

Kenzi blew bubbles in her glass. "Pfftt. Well, okay, maybe the adventure part. But hero? Nuh-unh. I like staying alive lots better, thanks."

"Well, a good hero can avoid death, at least... most of the time," Hercules said.

Having died more than once, he really couldn't push that issue.

"But I suppose there is a need for crafty mortals who do other things. The world could not work with only heroes, after all."

"Pre-cisely," Kenzi enunciated. "Someone's gotta serve the beer and count the money." And fleece the unwary. If Kenzi had a god, it as a Trickster God. "I'll applaud the feats of daring of my classmates, though."

As long as it wasn't Loki, Hercules was okay with that.

"I shall keep you in mind in case we need an audience," Hercules said, saluting her with a raise of his pitcher.

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Caritas, Thursday, 8/25

The Stage [8/25]

The Bar [8/25]

The Lounge [8/25]

The Back Room [8/25]

OOC 8/25

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