fandomtownies | Caritas; Wednesday [01/10].

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Caritas; Wednesday [01/10].

Every so often, Summer came into the bar, and there was nothing strange or unusual going on at all. The zombies were in a good order and not in any need of any patch-ups, Tino was doing his actual job in a way that wasn't disturbing or concerning, the mechanical bull wasn't on the fritz, and there was nothing of note as far as weird decorations or anything like that going on.

And sometimes, that worried Summer, making her think that something was really wrong, underneath the surface, but you know what? This year, she was just going to resolve to appreciate these kinds of days for what they were and embrace them with a sort of zen appreciation, that--

"Oh GOD!"

Her thoughts had spoken too soon, as she turned around to find Tino there, pulling up his shirt to show her a wound on his torso with an insane amount of pride over the color that it was that it definitely should not be.

"Uhhhhh, Tino, I think that is definitely infected and you should probably go get that checked out at the clinic and for the love of god, put your shirt down, I'm not even sure you being here right now with that is within health code. Where do we keep the spare bandages for the zombies, because you need to cover that up, dude."

Featured Cocktail
Pink Angel

Featured Jello
Cherries and Cream
Watermelon Mint Julep
Pink Lemonade
Tomato Shirmp

Caritas is open!

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Hopefully, the zombies stay together, because a lot of that gauze is being used for Tino now.

Yeaaah, Atton was taking a long minute to check on them and make sure nothing was falling off. "Seriously," he muttered, gently patting an arm - mainly because he didn't want to risk anything - "Be careful with that, all right?"

He got up on stage after a while, wondering vaguely if you could really call it karaoke if there was a band involved. "Okay, look, I don't know where this is coming from either. When I'm done here, I'm going to go outside and smoke a cigarette and find something about the world to really hate, or I'll never feel like myself again," he said. "But I'm feeling a weird kind of dread this year and I don't like it, so I'm going to. Uh. Channel something more optimistic."

Beat.

"Seriously, I'm going to mainline the entire politics section of the New York Times when I'm done here. Anyway, this is The Deepest Sighs, the Frankest Shadows by a band called Gang of Youths. For all your anxious dread cases out there."

And with that, he let the zombies start playing, and he rolled his shoulders, and let that faint sheen of optimism roll over him.

"In a crowd unfamiliar
I just wanna touch a familiar face
And make friends at the parties I've feared
The likes of an age
To be wanted with truth
And make formidable love
See light in myself
That I see inside everyone else I know..."

Please keep any and all open wounds to yourself.

No open wounds. Just, "You know, I'll try that cocktail today."

There was a slight pause as Summer looked at Atton for a moment, glanced back toward the stage, and then asked, "As is or as per usual?"

Which she normally wouldn't have asked, at this point, but, well, that was, well. That was quite the prologue to your performance there this time around, Atton, buddy.

"As is," Atton said, with a sigh. "I'm just doing whatever I can not to give in to any bad feelings that may or may not be in the air right now."

Summer opened her mouth to say that she felt that sort of sounded counterintuitive, all things considered, but hers was a family of very sloppy alcoholics, so she just shut her mouth for now and changed course and focused on making the drinks for now.

"Well, whatever it is," she finally concluded, as she set down the drink for Atton, "I hope it really is just a passing funk and it'll be gone before you know it. But, hey, if it'll help any, I've got two ears that'll listen, and since I like you, maybe I'll even keep my commentary and opinions down to a minimum."

She would never guarantee keeping them to herself entirely.

Atton snorted. "Don't hold it in on my account," he said. "Nah, remember when we had that whole conversation about me leaving and you said something about how it was a recipe for going out in a blaze of glory? I got called back to deal with an ongoing situation at the start of the year."

He reached for the drink.

"And now part of me keeps worrying I'm going to find myself saying something about it being my last case before retirement any second now..."

"Oh, noooo," said Summer, who, despite herself, couldn't help herself from chuckling, at least a little bit. "Come on, though, you're not nearly that old and grizzled yet."

She then tilted her head thoughtfully at Atton, considered how he literally did tell her not to hold back on his account, and so she ventured, "Can I ask about what kind of ongoing situation?"

Maybe talking about ongoing situations in that part of the galaxy (assuming that's what Atton meant by home) for him could effectively make her continue shoving aside thinking about ongoing situations in that part of the galaxy for other people.

Goddamn, what a messy ass galaxy.

No wonder she loved it as much as she did.

Well, she was welcome to take Atton's place in that galaxy if she wanted to. After two wars and who-even-knew-anymore amounts of death and misfortune and trauma, he was kind of sick of it.

"There's a former Padawan who hates me because her master sacrificed her life for mine and she doesn't think I deserved it," he said, taking a sip. "For years now we've been trying to calm her down. Now she's finally snapped and she's taken some of the younger students to we-don't-know-where."

Honestly, don't tempt her. Summer had been feeling a little space twitchy recently, and she couldn't go anywhere in her own galaxy without her grampa getting all up in her business in one way or another...

"Oooof," Summer said sympathetically, shaking her head a little. "That's rough. And at the moment, it's probably a big fat 'your guess is as good as mine' situation as far as the location, right? Anything to maybe help narrow it down?"

"We've got a bunch of leads, but we're pretty sure she's sowing some bad ones deliberately," Atton said. "Mical roped me back in from my sabbatical because he's hoping that she hates me hard enough to do something stupid eventually."

Another sip.

"For the moment, I'm stuck spending half my weeks crawling around in caves and on mountain planets, hoping not to break my ribs again."

"Well," said Summer, although there was a part of her that was doing its best to send off alarms and flashing stop signs and trying to pull her off of that particular ledge, but nice try, she was already one food off of it, "if you need any help, I do have a ship and a pretty good knowledge of that galaxy from my time out there on Coruscant, especially since I was doing a lot of trading and smuggling to some pretty BUFU place. I mean, granted, my ship is not subtle, and neither am I, but that's kind of the point. No one takes anyone with a bright pink ship with a disco ball seriously."

Was it Atton's own background and long years of throwing fits, starting arguments, hitting on people and ranting about stupid stuff just to throw everyone off his trail? Was it his long-term exposure to Fandom? Was it all the insane stuff he'd seen since he joined up with the Exile years ago?

Whatever it was, all she got was a, "Yeah, no, that's smart," a shrug, and a, "We'll see how it goes. If it turns out she's stolen a battleship or something, we could probably use the distraction."

"No shrimp," Stark said firmly. "But I'll try the others, please. Hello, Summer."

"Hello, Stark," said Summer, her soft smile more of a satisfied smirk at the expected nature of that caveat of a greeting as she dutifully set out the three non-shrimp shots for him and then started in on the cocktail. "Already met your shrimp quote of the week, huh?"

"You put shrimp on your cupcake," Stark said with a sigh. "That poor cupcake."

His expression morphed into a smile as he looked at her. "But that's over with and now I have jello without any shrimps. And it's all a bit pink." He held up one of the watermelon ones like a toast before downing it.

"Good day so far?"

"Good day so far," said Summer, just sort of beaming happily that Shrimp Cupcake was still there lurking in Stark's head, as if he could ever really avoid it in the first place. "And, hey, you know what? I was thinking..."

Summer added the ridiculously garnished cocktail to Stark's repertoire.

"What do you want to do for your birthday? That's, like, literally this weekend, isn't it?"

"It is," Stark said after a pause to admire the cocktail (and to think back). "You're right. The birthday you gave me."

The smile that was just for Summer might have been even softer than usual.

"I think...I hadn't really thought about it. You gave me a birthday and a whole party last year!"

Why would he expect anything this year? Maybe he only got one birthday ever!

"We went away for yours, and that was nice, but having a party for me was nice. I'd never had that ever but you know that and that was why you did it...I don't need anything, you know."

"I only gave it to you because you couldn't make up your damn mind on picking on yourself," Summer pointed out, in light of that softer than usual grin. "And, yeah, I know you don't need anything, but that doesn't mean I don't still want to do something for you, anyway. Did you want to have another party? Did you want to go somewhere? Did you want to go somewhere to have a party?"

"No arcades," Stark said quickly. "Please."

He picked one of the raspberries off his drink and popped it into his mouth. "It was nice, having a party. But isn't it late to be trying to make that happen? It's already Wednesday."

He wasn't doubting your abilities, Summer! He was doubting other people's availability.

"It wouldn't have to be a big party... but, maybe with a cake? Or cupcakes."

"Stark," said Summer, giving him a look that very much made it feel like she thought he was actually doubting her abilities, "it's never too late for a party. And this is happening soon enough in the conversation that it might even get picked up on radio, and that would help spread the word, you know? So, you know, we can throw you something on, like, Saturday, or something, no big deal, just a little shindig with a group text sent out and cupcakes and a good collection of Stark-centric jello shots."

"I'd like a party," Stark admitted. It was kind of fun to have that attention focused on him. "If you think people would come. Anything would be good I think."

He paused and took a sip of the drink. "Oh, I like that!"

"Where, though? I think your apartment and mine are the same size."

Summer's definitely had more things in it though. And a cat.

Edited 2024-01-10 18:36 (UTC)

"... Oh God, jello shots."

Don't mind Uly, Summer, this was just the face of a man trying to decide what level of mistakes he wanted to make on this fine Wednesday evening.

"Okay," said Summer, lifting her eyebrows at Ulysses, "I know you're not new around here, so that just begs the question, where have you been that jello shots are coming as a surprise to you?"

Like, yeah, okay, she knew he rarely seemed to exist outside of the movie theater, if Radio was anything to go off of, but still!

Of course, there was also the possibility of just forgetting that they were unavoidable at Caritas on a Wednesday, or just not realizing it was Wednesday when he came in (which, hi, hello, mood), so then she just followed it up with her best winning smile and "They're really good, though. I mean, all except for the last one."

You didn't come in often, Uly, so you got a pass free from having that one foisted on you.

It was more the forgetting thing. (Remembering thing?) And just not paying much attention to the bars in town in the first place, since alcohol wasn't actually his preferred vice.

He tilted his head a little, then said, "Guess I'll take the cherries and cream one?"

He was not touching that shrimp thing. No.

"Cherries and cream it is!" Summer said, happy that no arm twisting was involved in this particular interaction, as she set one proudly in front of Ulysses and tilted her head back in response. "Anything else to go along with it?"

"Think I'll answer that after the shot."

Which he was going to knock back right now, so it probably wouldn't be long.

And, figuring as much,Summer just sort of smirked at Ulysses and waited for the verdict.

Of course, the initial post-shot reaction was just:

"... Rum? Like that was rum, right?"

"That was rum!" Summer confirmed, an absolutely delighted grin brightening her face at this ability to ID the booze beneath the jello, so much so that she immediately pushed a Pink Lemondade toward Ulysses, too.

"Now do this one."

Which she felt was way easier, but still!

"Are these real lemons?" Ulysses asked, picking it up. Again, he didn't come here often. Or pay enough attention.

Anyway, this one was easy to consume, too. Though he did pull a thoughtful face right after.

"Vodka? But mostly, just, like. Citrus."

Better yet, just hang out in the lounge!

Hopefully, no open wounds are created via darts, mechanical bull, or stripper pole, but never say never...

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Caritas; Wednesday [01/10].

The Stage - 01/10.

Re: The Stage - 01/10.

The Bar - 01/10.

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The Lounge - 01/10.

The Back Room - 01/10.

OOC - 01/10.