Caritas, Sunday

[suitably_heroic]

"Why does everything smell like garlic in here?"

Tino froze. The zombies froze. The garlic sculpture on the bar...

... well, it didn't do much of anything.

"Space," Atton growled, stomping into the building. "Are you kidding me?! I'm gone for one week--"

He came to a quick stop by the bar. "... Fine! I guess it's garlic martinis for everyone today!"

Oh boy.

[[ open ]]

Comments

[notconflicted]

Tell me something good.

Guess who had had a bad week, and needed the joy of Atton making garlic martinis all night.

[suitably_heroic]

Tino made a garlic sculpture, so I'm making him try cocktails made of garlic all night to make up for the stench. Ugh, I leave for ONE WEEK.

Yeah, he was going to be on about that for a while.

[notconflicted]

How big is this sculpture?

She'd never had reason to see what garlic even looked like, aside from having it somewhere on her food.

And is it any good?

That was her trolling a little.

[suitably_heroic]

Atton shook his head and lifted his phone, taking a picture of the three-foot-tall monstrosity - he had no words to describe it, and why in space would someone build a statue of Santa Claus in January anyway? - and sending it to her.

[notconflicted]

What the hell is that

No, Tino. No.

[suitably_heroic]

The product of a deranged mind.

[notconflicted]

There are so many things I don't understand about this.

[suitably_heroic]

The zombies like it, which I think is the most damning indictment of the whole thing, Atton shared. I'm breaking it up.

[notconflicted]

And making drinks out of it.

[suitably_heroic]

For people who are definitely not me.

[notconflicted]

Can I request now that when I collect on you showing off your bartending skills that you serve me absolutely nothing with garlic in it?

[suitably_heroic]

Hey, you don't know. This could be good.

Not enough for Atton to try any of it himself, but still!

[notconflicted]

It could be. But I won't know without evidence.

[suitably_heroic]

I can give one to Tino and see if he dies, Atton volunteered.

He was such a giver.

[notconflicted]

All right, but you have to record his reaction. That's how evidence works.

She was fairly sure Tino would not die.

[suitably_heroic]

Deal. Any other requests?

[notconflicted]

I don't suppose you'd try your own creation.

He had to know that was coming.

[suitably_heroic]

An artist never drinks his own work, Atton texted her, Unless he's really thirsty.

[notconflicted]

I am fairly certain that isn't true...

[biotic_psychotic]

Jack had done some errands after her radio shift. Popped by to get handwaved coffee with Kanan and then she went to look at apartments. Signed some paperwork and got some keys which had taken some of the tension off. Living with Kaidan wouldn't kill her. Might kill him someday but she'd be fine. She just needed her own space and now she had it there whenever she wanted to move in.

Day drinking was a thing encouraged on this island and that made her a happy bouncy biotic bitch.

Until the minute she walked through the door of Caritas and was subjected to chemical warfare. "What the fuck?" she blurted and put a finger up under her nostrils to block them. "Jesus did someone mistake the band for vampires?"

[suitably_heroic]

Ah, what do you know? You've never bartended. Tended bar?

[suitably_heroic]

"No, Tino's got artistic pretentions, and I guess someone let him near food prep," Atton drawled, picking another clove from the statue. "Have a garlic cocktail, you'll forget all about it."

[notconflicted]

No, but I've supervised on many, many occasions.

[biotic_psychotic]

"I don't want to smell like the bar the rest of the day with it oozing out my pores," Jack turned him down, "Think I'll have un-garlicked whiskey instead. His pay get docked for wastage like this or does he get a pass for being mentally disabled what with his brain being just a bag of water and no executive function?"

[suitably_heroic]

Like when?!