Fjord (
built_fjord_tough) wrote in
fandomtownies2018-11-23 07:11 am
Entry tags:
Caritas, Friday Evening
Fjord had kind of failed spectacularly at this entire damn week. He was well aware of that fact. Wednesday had been a wash, he'd sort of even been called out for it on Thursday by his boss, and now he was sober and feeling much better, but Tino just kept looking at him and shaking his head.
Wouldn't say why. Fjord wasn't even going to speculate about it. He was going to just settle behind the bar and make faces at the selection of whiskeys for a few minutes before pulling out the list of mixed drinks and studying it, because knowing how to prepare these things off the top of his head seemed like a useful skill around here. Probably.
Maybe.
Eh. It would keep Tino off his case, anyway.
[OOC: Open!]
Wouldn't say why. Fjord wasn't even going to speculate about it. He was going to just settle behind the bar and make faces at the selection of whiskeys for a few minutes before pulling out the list of mixed drinks and studying it, because knowing how to prepare these things off the top of his head seemed like a useful skill around here. Probably.
Maybe.
Eh. It would keep Tino off his case, anyway.
[OOC: Open!]

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An ale that she caught easily enough as it slid toward her, lifting it with appreciation before quaffing it back. Also in appreciation.
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"A solid choice, anyway," Fjord replied, smiling crookedly. And then, just for the hell of it, reaching below the bar and pulling out an apple juice for himself.
... Oh, that was going to be fun on those freshly-chipped tusks.
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Fjord was absolutely stabbing the top of that box with the straw, yup.
"Now, Amaya, I have no idea what you're talking about."
... Oh. Oh, that was a lot of sweet acidity right on some seriously damaged enamel, there. Fjord managed to not make a face.
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She was mostly failing.
"No, no," she agreed, with a brusque nod. "Of course not. Clearly, that's just the ale doing all the talking."
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Fjord only sort of made a face as he ran his tongue over his bottom teeth.
Sigh.
"The ale's talking already, hm? But you've only just started, I'd hate to have to cut you off already."
Not that he was one to be talking about being cut off, this week.
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"Maybe we'll see what we find at the bottom of this mug," she said. "You never know. Maybe I'm a lightweight."
She wasn't.
"Check back with me in two days to make sure, I guess."
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And then he barked out a laugh.
"Oh, shit, did you just do that? Really? You'll have to drink a hell of a lot more than an ale to be able to pull that on me, Blackstone." He was grinning openly, though, apparently more amused than insulted.
There was just something about a bit of friendly shit-talking, okay?
"But if you'd really like to find out, we do have some excellent whiskey."
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"Oh, I'm sure you do," she folded her arms in front of her, leaning forward on the bar. "I hear you might know the long way around a bottle, to boot. Any recommendations? Got anything like what did you in?"
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"As a matter of fact..." Fjord turned and browsed the selection, before coming across a painfully familiar bottle. He plucked it off the shelf, and then set it down on the counter.
Yes, the whole bottle.
"There would be where you start."
And then you followed all of that with some very, very hoppy beer.
Like an idiot.
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"And where do you end?"
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"Ideally, before the bottle of whiskey and a few beers have vanished," he admitted. "I never said what I did on Monday was smart."