fandomtownies | Caritas, Saturday

Entry tags:

Caritas, Saturday

Her second week at work, April was taking the scientific approach: pouring things into glasses, combining them with other things, and evaluating the results.

Some were good. Some were okay. Some were getting donated to Tino so that he could experience how horrible they were for himself.

Poor guy kept falling for it. That was okay, though. It was funny.

Up on the sign where the specials usually went, April had scrawled:

$5 OFF YOUR DRINK IF YOU LET ME DECIDE WHAT'S IN IT

[[open, natch. save me, i'm bored and everyone i know is drunk.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Damn it, April. You knock back the equivalent of four Irish Car Bombs within the span of minutes and see if it hits you like a brick.

"... I might be a little out of practise," Jono conceded with a sniff before climbing back up onto his barstool. It was safer on the barstool. He couldn't make a total ass of himself on the barstool. As easily. With his feet.

Shut up.

"'M working on that."

"Somehow I think it may take a while," April remarked.

Because really now, Jono.

Oh, don't say that. You'll work him into a sulk. A tiny one. A tiny, momentary one.

"Prob'ly." Considering he was still being weird about taste, he really couldn't see himself getting much better with alcohol in short order. Jono reached for his water. Water was safe! "So here's where I task you with an important job. Helpin' me build that back up again, right. Used t'be able to drink anyone under th'table, back when..." A beat, and he looked at her thoughtfully. "... back before I was yer age."

Around about the age she looked to be, he didn't have benefit of a mouth for that.

"I am Puerto Rican," April conceded. "If anyone can teach you alcohol tolerance, it'd be me."

Yes. She was Puerto Rican. That was why she was so lively and colorful.

It explained so very much, truly.

"Re-teach me," Jono stressed, because his dignity, okay. "Used t'play pubs in London for free drinks, I mean it, I wasn't always this shite with alcohol."

He was going to stand by this. Stand by it ferociously.

"... Which you have no reason to believe, given I was just done in by a few car bombs."

"Why the lapse in skill?"

She was curious, but not showing it. Showing interest Wasn't Cool, you know.

Jono had the good grace to at least grimace a little before raising his water bottle to his mouth and taking a good pull from it.

"Y'find my Facebook page yet, luv?"

This statement was not entirely non sequitur.

"Got bored," April said, holding up her phone to demonstrate the lively game of Angry Birds currently going on.

Damn you, little green pigs. Damn you all.

"Probably for th'best. If you ever do, y'wouldn't recognize me anyhow. Skinny little goth-looking bloke. No lower jaw."

Hard to drink, without one of those.

"Yeah?" April said, actually showing her intrigue now. It was a canonically-proven fact that gross medical stories interested her, okay. "Fuck. Ow. What happened?"

"... You come from a world where people spontaneously manifest super powers or anything like that?"

He didn't think so, but checking was kind of helpful, all the same, lest he start spitting out words that wouldn't make any sense without an explanation.

"...Is your jaw a superpower?"

"No, but th'blast of fire that obliterated it, along with most of my insides, was."

A beat.

"I can't do that 'nymore."

This was for the best.

April whistled. "Shit."

Yes, April. Shit indeed.

"It hurt?"

"At first," Jono replied, swirling what was left in his water bottle around a bit anxiously, eyes directed firmly toward it. "More'n you can imagine."

He'd burned himself out. Left himself a hollow shell. It had hurt like hell.

"But then it was just... cold. There wasn't much left to feel th'pain with."

April resisted the urge to comment that those sounded like the lyrics to a bad screamo song.

"Shit."

"Shite," Jono echoed. He'd probably appreciate the bad screamo reference. Might lighten the mood a little. "... I need another drink, I think. Or've I made enough of an arse of myself that I've hit my cut-off already?"

"I'm supposed to set up a cutoff?" April asked. "That sounds... responsible."

She said 'responsible' the way a normal person might say 'serial killer.'

Jono considered this for a moment, and then shrugged.

"I'm not at th'point where I'll be crawling back home tonight," he noted. "Not yet. So I'll take another drink."

A beat.

"A lager. Something import. I keep knocking back car bombs and I'll spend th'night puking or something, an' 'm in no hurry to reacquaint myself with that sort of experience jus' yet."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Caritas, Saturday

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