fandomtownies | Caritas, Sunday Evening

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Caritas, Sunday Evening

Yes, Tino was writing poetry at the bar. Bad poetry. There was rhyming and liberal use of the word 'tawny' to describe hair.

That was possibly why Guy was not at the bar tonight. Oh no, he was going to be doing some inventory in the back room. Safe from all the crazy that had come over the place.

Plus, he got to get rid of the shitty beer by claiming it was going skunky. It was the little things in life that you had to appreciate.

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Where Tino would sigh, but take your order!

"Yeah, I'll have two whiskey," Atton ordered, then sat back. Sure, Sia wasn't here yet, but this time he was going to get her started on the real stuff. He was going to come prepared.

When Sia did arrive, she came straight over to Atton, taking a seat next to him. "Have you been waiting long?"

It was possible he'd been here a while even without waiting for her, but she'd ask anyway.

"Only long enough to listen to the zombies do what could possibly be the worst rendition of 'Another Day in Paradise' ever," Atton said, sliding the whiskey her way. "Of course, I've never heard anyone else perform 'Another Day in Paradise', so I could be wrong. But my gut says yes."

"I'll take your word for it," she said, eying the drink. "I see we've moved on from blue or pink."

"Thought I'd get you a real drink," Atton offered. "Sip it, don't chug it. It'll help drown out the zombies when they get started again."

Atton's grasp on Earth pop music had advanced to staggering heights since he started coming here.

Let's all picture Sia trying to chug something, shall we?

She sipped it, and wow that was very different than a drink where they tried to mask the taste of the alcohol. "Is this going to deafen me, then?"

Yes, she was joking.

"No," Atton said, glancing towards the zombies who were - yes - picking up arms.

Sorry, instruments.

"But it'll stop you caring."

"If they start playing and I find you've blown this out of proportion, I might almost be disappointed," she said, looking toward the stage.

Atton rolled his eyes. "Oh, you won't."

He turned towards the stage. "Hey!" he called. "Play that-- what's it called-- The Likes Of You Again? That was almost decent enough not to knock my ears off."

"We should probably keep in mind that while they're playing they're probably attempting to keep their fingers attached at the same time," Sia mused.

Which was part of why a zombie band was a bad idea. But only part.

"I'm not going to stop you if you want to use the Force to keep them attached while they're playing," Atton offered. "I'll just be over here. Heckling."

"I'm still in training. They have to fend for themselves there," Sia replied, wincing just slightly as the guitar started with a weird chord.

"Then keep drinking," Atton instructed. "You'll feel better. About the music as well as your life."

"Did I miss the part where drinks became magic?" she asked, taking another- small- sip.

"Nah, you just haven't had enough of them so far," Atton said. He took another sip of his drink. "I'll get you to complain about something before the end of the night. Even if it's just the music."

"And why exactly do you want to hear me complain?" she wondered.

Well, they both complained about each other to each other enough but that probably didn't count.

"Because it's good for you," Atton retorted.

Or because it was his main activity in life. Either or.

"Alcohol makes life better and complaining is good for you. I'm learning a lot tonight," Sia told him.

"They really should've hired me as a teacher," Atton agreed, as the very poignant - cough - strains of the requested song filled the bar. "I mean, think of all the coping strategies I know."

"Such as?" Besides the bar.

Where people could relax.

Where there was a television. And possibly Guy when he wasn't organizing the stock.

I have a doggy playdate to get to! Up early upon request!

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The Bar

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The Stage

The Lounge

The Back Room

OOC