fandomtownies | Caritas; Wednesday [02/03].

Tino was giving Summer crap for coming in late for her shift that evening, but Summer wasn't having any of it.

"Sorry, Tino," she sniped. "Not all of us can just practically live here. Some of us actually have lives."

And her life in the last 48 hours or so had been something, alright, and it was honestly kind of a miracle that she'd even made it back in time for her shift at all, and, boy, if today wasn't one of those days where she was feeling extremely grateful for that jello maker, she didn't know what would be. They weren't exactly to the elaborate quality she usually liked to put into her shots, but for having been able to whip them together in the tight half hour between when she landed back in Fandom and coming into the bar, they weren't half bad.

And they were definitely boozy. That was the important part, right?

Wednesday Jello Shot Specials!
Orange Creamsicle
Arnold Palmer
Gravy

Also, not everything was daiquiris! In fact, the one time someone did actually order a daiquiri, it came out as a martini, no matter how many times Summer tried to make it. So sorry. No daiquiris, apparently?

Caritas is open!

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Get on up there and show the world you're a star!

Have a beer, have some jello, but don't have a daiquiri!

Have a seat, take a load off, feel an odd sense of being special because it's ~the lounge~.

If today is anything like that last week or so has been at work, there's a good chance I won't get to pings until later today, while I internally sob about it, just a head's up.

Seivarden arrived early, carrying a plastic container with her. She frowned a little as she looked at the menu.

"Summer, what's an Arnold Palmer? Is it an actual drink?"

"No, Seivarden," said Summer with a roll of her eyes, "it's not, I just dug up the body of actual golf legend Arnold Palmer and ground him up and put him in a cup with some jello. Of course it's an actual drink. It's tea and lemonade."

A pause.

"And vodka."

Lots and lots of vodka.

"Tea?"

You had to have expected that question, Summer.

Now Seivarden placed the plastic container on the bar, though, and pushed it towards Summer.

"This is for you."

"Tea," Summer confirmed, squeezing it in two seconds before getting throroughly distracted because oooh, mystery container!

She had been very big on mystery containers lately.

"What is it?" she asked, while simultaniously pulling the container closer and opening it, thus sort of making her question moot, but whatever.

So, Ignis was giving her cooking lessons, and Seivarden felt that she should offer some appreciation of Summer's general support and helpfulness.

So she had made pizza. Well, Ignis had helped with the dough, but she had made the toppings, and made sure it didn't get burnt in the oven.

"Just don't eat it in front of me."

She didn't expect Summer to use cutlery.

The faint little grumble rising from the pit of Summer's stomach to remind her that her brief little space bender these last two days hadn't made a lot of room for food made her realize that fulfilling that request was going to be harder than you'd think. So she closed the lid on the container again (out of sight, out of mind, though her stomach wasn't going to be fooled so easily), holding it close to her chest, and grinned over at Seivarden.

"Awwww," she said. "Leftover pizza! What any girl could ever dream of!"

Sure, she sounded sarcastic, but she was going to wolf this down the first second Seivarden had her back turned.

"I made it," Seivarden informed her. "Although I had some help with the dough. Ignis is teaching me how to cook."

She added:

"I thought you liked pizza."

"I do," Summer assured her. "I love pizza. You made it? Seivarden! That's great! It even looks edible!"

No doubt thanks to Ignis, but Summer wasn't going to say that part, because she was being a complimentary and supportive friend!

Ignis had been very helpful.

"I wouldn't give you something that looked inedible."

Seivarden was actually quite proud of herself, but she did her best not to let that show.

"Anyway. Thank you for being a supportive friend."

She also tried not to think of that doing this would have made Breq proud, because she really did do it for Summer.

"I'll have a whiskey and one of each of your shots," Lucifer said, sinking down into his seat with a grin.

Rey wasn't actually sure what a daiquiri was, so there.

"Why is someone named Arnold Palmer on the specials board?" she asked, warily.

"And it actually is whiskey this time!" Summer announced, far too pleased about this fact as she set Lucifer up with the truo of shots and then slightly overpowered the whiskey.

"And how are we doing today, Mr. Morningstar?"

"He's, like, some golf guy my dad's obsessed with that was, like, the first person to invent putting tea and lemonade together or something," Summer, who could easily have googled that to verify it but nah, shrugged. "So you add vodka and jello and voila. A special for some dead golf guy."

She could really sell a shot when she put her mind to it, couldn't she?

"Huh. I'm both a little interested and also a little little thrown off by 'dead golf guy,'" Rey admitted.

"Gravy," Jesse said slowly, eyeing the specials board. "I guess you've had weirder."

"Not too bad," Lucifer said, grinning sunnily at her. "Had quite a nice weekend and a quiet Tuesday shift. But I did have therapy today, so I may want some seconds and thirds on those shots of yours."

"Gravy! Two of them!" Eleanor said cheerfully taking her spot on the bar stool. "Also? Tino shirtless."

"Orange, please," Stark said as he took a seat at the bar. Gravy wasn't an option he was willing to entertain and he didn't know what (or who) an Arnold Palmer was. "Orange seems safe. Hello, Summer."

"It's not even that original," said Summer, rolling her eyes at her own lack of creativity, apparently, while getting for Jesse her nice, generic beer. "I did gravy for Thanksgiving, too. But I was in a time crunch, and I figured it would be slightly more palatable than 'weird goo I found on the bottom of my spaceship this morning.'"

Though she had considered it.

She sighed, shaking her head, and then offering a smile.

"How's it going, Jes?"

"It's just your regular quiet week on Fandom," Jesse said lightly. "For me and the island in general. Sounds like it was different for you, though."

Don't look, Summer. Don't look. You really didn't want to--

Damn it. She looked.

And was incredibly grateful that that turned out to be more request, apparently, than description?

"They're on the house," Summer stated as she set the two gravy shots in front if Eleanor, "as long as you promise to never utter those words out loud ever again."

Why would you want that, Eleanor?

"Wait," she said. "That's not a drink, is it?"

Why would you want that?

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Caritas; Wednesday [02/03].

The Stage - 02/03.

The Bar - 02/03.

The Lounge - 02/03.

OOC - 02/03.

Re: The Bar - 02/03.

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