fandomtownies | Caritas, Saturday

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Caritas, Saturday

April was just so amused by today's particular flavor of Fandom weird.

"God, Tino, I thought you were ugly as a guy, but this is really above and beyond," she informed him, pouring herself a shot glass full of champagne just because she felt like pouring things. Look, don't judge her. "It's one thing to have the world's worst rack, but combined with that butt-face..." She tsked at him. "Fail, man."

Tino glared. Glared a lot.

LET'S FACE IT
YOU DON'T NEED AN INCENTIVE TO BUY BOOZE TODAY
JUST DO IT

Best marketing ever, obviously.

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"April," Atton said helpfully upon entry, "You need to give me a lot of drinks. Now."

"...and who are you?"

She thought she had a good idea, because, you know, jacket. And if she was right, she might never stop laughing. But best to figure it out for sure first.

Edited 2012-09-08 17:31 (UTC)

"I'm not telling you," Atton announced, because he realized a second later that she would laugh her ass off. "Drinks. Now. I'm paying you." He held up a note.

Oh yeah, definitely Atton. "Fine then," April said, doing her best to contain her amusement as she snatched up the bill and got to work on the drinks. "I'm making you a Cosmo," she informed Att-- uh, the mysterious stranger. "And like, a Mai Tai. Got any problems with that?"

"Yeah," Atton said, his head shooting up. "Just get me a whiskey. Whiskeys. Multiple."

"Fine, be... less embarrassing." But also less of a hassle, so that was nice. She poured three, then slid them over to him before claiming a beer for herself. "So."

"Why do you still have breasts?" Atton groaned. Then paused. "Wait, don't answer that. At least I've got something to look at."

Atton, keeping up your cover was going to be totally hard when you said things like that, just FYI.

Granted, his cover was already pretty much blown, so.

"Guess the island likes me," she hypothesized. "Doesn't look like it hates you either, though. Yours aren't bad."

"I can't complain," Atton said after a beat.

Well, about that. Everything else, he could heartily complain about.

"That's new."

Because she'd met him.

"Atton," she added, just in case he thought she was still in the dark.

"Wow, you're a detective now," Atton said, because 'aw, rats' was just too cliche. "I'm just going to take this as a win and celebrate the fact there are two sets of boobs in this room."

April coughed. And nodded toward Tino.

"Not that his count," she amended, swiveling around to face her least favorite co-worker ever. "What are you, like an A-cup?"

Tino glared at her.

Atton waved that off. "Yeah, there's a bunch of us who haven't got anything worth writing home about," he said.

You were such a kind soul, Atton.

"Or in your case, anything worth sitting in your room groping all day." What, tell her it wasn't accurate. "Kind of surprised you actually left the dorms today."

Edited 2012-09-08 18:17 (UTC)

"I needed a drink," Atton reported, "And my favorite bartender was on staff. Easy choice."

One day he'd stop hitting on April. Today was not that day.

"I'm flattered."

She actually was. Shh.

"So, hey," she said. "Wanna see the zombies attempt metal?"

Atton turned around and glanced at the zombies in question.

That over talking about having boobs? No contest. "How bad is this going to be?" he said appraisingly, but not with disapproval.

April considered this. "Depends how many times their arms fall off," she decided. "Eight per song is their average."

Was she making that up? Possibly.

"Got any requests?"

"Didn't that band you like do a pirate song?" Atton said. "I'm up for a pirate song."

Anything that wasn't about boobs.

But boobs were Atton's favoritest!

"Works," April decided. "Yo! Dead guys. Pirate song!"

...Yeah, limbs falling off might actually improve this.

The zombies started playing obligingly - it involved a lot of shouting about being pirates and chopping things in half.

Atton nodded, satisfied. "Knew I made a good choice coming out here tonight."

"I bet you say that to all the bartenders," April commented loudly over a particularly graphic verse.

...He really did, was the thing.

Well, yeah. But the others didn't make the zombies sing metal, so there was that.

"That's for me to know, and for you to never find out," he commented. "--Hey, did the bass player lose a finger recently?"

April pointed to a spot on the floor. "Think it rolled over there." Sigh, zombies. "Dare you to go stick it back on?"

Edited 2012-09-08 19:07 (UTC)

"You think I'm crazy?" Atton asked, raising an eyebrow. "Make me a deal."

Oh god. Yes, this was exactly what the world needed. Atton and April making deals.

"Free drink?"

"I'll need a little more than that."

It was a perfectly ordinary transaction model!

April hummed thoughtfully. "Like?"

"Free drinks all night from here on in."

"Until midnight," April bargained. "Or you're too drunk to remember making the deal."

"Until midnight," Atton repeated firmly. "If you try to stiff me on this, I'll remember later and you'll owe me double."

"...Fair enough." Mostly because she really wanted to see Atton reattach a finger. "Deal."

"Deal," Atton echoed, and got out of his chair. He walked towards the zombies with a sour look on his face - keep your mind on the prize, Rand...

"Remember to be gentle," April advised loudly from where she was already pouring a few more glasses of whiskey. So don't chicken out, Atton. "Or don't, I don't freaking care."

Wasn't she sweet?

"Think I won't," Atton called back, then leaned over to pick the missing digit off the floor.

Eh. Some would call it disgusting. Once upon a time, he would have called it 'work'.

And out came April's phone to record this. Pity Atton was stuck facing the band for this exercise, because he might have appreciated the way she was leaning over the bar to get a good angle. So sad. "Try looking a little less like you're going to your death," she advised. "Maybe."

"You want me to smile?" Atton asked. "Maybe do a little dance?"

He walked up towards the poor fingerless zombie. "Sorry," he said, "But I kind of have a bet."

"Wouldn't hurt." Except his masculinity. It would hurt that. Then to the zombie, "Hey. Quit moving. You wanna play without fingers?" She shot him her usual death glare, which seemed to do its job. "Didn't think so."

Obviously April should be a nurse.

Clearly.

"Okay, hold on," Atton told the zombie, and grabbed his arm.

Ew. "You need to take more showers," he added, then plugged the digit in without another word of warning.

Huh. He really did it.

"Dude," April said, sounding slightly impressed, which for April meant that she was very impressed. "That was kinda awesome. Ever think about getting a janitor job here?"

"Not at all," Atton said, taking a step back before the zombie could recover enough to take a swing at him or something.

"Good." She slid one of the newly-poured whiskeys across the bar so it would be all ready for him when he got back to his stool. "That'd be a waste of impressive booze-related priorities."

Atton sat back down at the bar and snagged his hard-won whiskey with a satisfied grin. "You're right on the money there," he agreed. "So-- now that their limbs are in order-- how about we make them play some of Nine Inch Nails' finest?"

April pointed a little finger-gun in his direction. "You got it," she said, and hopped over the bar to go make the request.

And also get a good look at the whole zombie finger situation, but no one had to know that. Shh.

Wheeeee Doctor Who marathon.

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Caritas, Saturday

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Lounge

Back Room

OOC