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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!]

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And that boss would firmly stand by the idea that he'd deserved every bit of being called out on it, too.

You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, Fjord.

But that wasn't going to stop her from swinging by on Friday, one half because she was a little curious to check up on him, one half because it was kind of becoming a thing, and a third half (shut up) because she'd already planned to wait until Friday to give him any good-natured ribbing about last week, though she wasn't sure that last half was as much a good idea anymore.

But she was there, anyway, having a seat at the bar with a nod. "'Evening, Fjord," she greeted. "I trust you're feeling a bit better?"

"Much improved, Amaya," Fjord replied with a nod and a pleasant smile. "Thank you. And an ale for you today?"

Right down to business, this one.

"Or would you prefer an apple juice?"

And perfectly willing to stumble right into that topic all on his own. It was easier that way.

"Well, dang it!" said Amaya, who barked a laugh as her hand smacked onto the bar. "You take all the fun out of me planning on asking for one if you go on and beat me to the punch by offering!"

She really shouldn't have been surprised, though. She'd been planning that since Monday, practically.

"So if that's the case," she decided, shaking her head, but she was grinning, "I think I'll take the ale after all."

"Careful," Fjord replied, grinning a little at that reaction, "if you ask for it, you'll actually get it. At least this way, you get the ale."

Which he was reaching for, in fact, pouring into the largest mug they had, and sliding her way.

"Oh, it would have been worth it," Amaya assured him. "It's not like it would take me long to knock back one of those little kiddie boxes, anyway, though I think I'd much rather just have the ale."

An ale that she caught easily enough as it slid toward her, lifting it with appreciation before quaffing it back. Also in appreciation.

"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.

"As I'm sure that," Amaya grinned back as she nodded at Fjord's own choice, "is going to be for you, all things considered. Nice to know they've got those, though. It's good to have a variety around here, for..." She shrugged, oh-so-casual. "...whoever may come in."

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.

And Amaya was trying very hard to not be amused by that picture.

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."

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.

Amaya only sort of thought she noticed Fjord only sort of making a face, there, but, really, even if she had, it wasn't really her place to ask after it.

"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."

Fjord was quiet for just a moment, a beat, long enough to blink.

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."

That was a bit more of a reaction than Amaya would have expected, but she'd happily take it.

"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?"

Look, if you ever wanted to get a reaction out of a sailor, the best way to do it was to insinuate that they couldn't handle their liquor.

"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.

Amaya picked up the bottle to give it a closer inspection, before lifting her brows at Fjord.

"And where do you end?"

Nina didn't want to go back to her room. She didn't want to have to deal with Vette, though she adored Vette, Vette was the greatest, when all Nina really wanted to do was either scream or... or cry.

Or something.

So she wandered around town until nothing else was open but the bar (and even the C.I.C. was closed, which concerned her a little; but made it even less likely that she wanted to go back to her room to see why Vette wasn't at work) and so, since it was cold out, and she was still upset, she wandered in and, for a moment, stood blinking in the entry way, feeling very small inside.

Fjord just hiked up a shoulder slightly.

"Ideally, before the bottle of whiskey and a few beers have vanished," he admitted. "I never said what I did on Monday was smart."

Fjord was in the middle of wiping down the bar with a rag when Nina appeared in the doorway. He glanced up at the cold breeze, and then, after a moment's pause, he offered her a small, welcoming nod.

"Evening... Nina, right?"

It had been some time since Greece.

Nina's smile wasn't the mega-watt brightness it usually was, but she hitched it up on her face anyway.

"That's me!!!!" she said, stepping in. "Is it, like, okay if I'm here???? I..."

She shrugged.

She didn't really have anywhere else to go right now. And it was too cold to spend the night outside.

"We don't have any rules about who can't be," Fjord offered. "So long as you're not trying to hurt anybody, you're perfectly welcome."

He paused, and then clarified, "The building automatically removes anybody who tries to hurt somebody."

Just so that she didn't think he was accusing her of something.

Nina... looked mildly interested at that.

"Where does it send them????" she asked, making her way over to the bar and sliding up onto a stool. "And, like, just physical hurt?????"

"Chucks 'em into the duck pond in the park, is my understanding," Fjord replied, smiling faintly. "And yeah, just physical hurt. No throwing punches unless you want to go for a brisk swim, hm?" He nodded toward her. "Can I get you anything?"

She squinted at the drink selection.

"Is there, like, anything that'll make me feel less like hitting people there??????"

Fjord's eyebrows raised slightly.

"I suppose that depends. Are there people you want to hit?"

That seemed like an important first step.

"One person," she admitted, a bit grudgingly. "Or scream at him."

Or cry, but she'd leave that off for now.

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Caritas, Friday Evening

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