(Untitled)

[sleazeoverstyle]

HEY. This place. Just like he wanted, and a note: maybe it's just a case of right place right time, or maybe Bar's sick of takin' his gil. Whatever it is, shit yeah, he'll tend bar for a couple hours instead of drinkin' his life away. There's plenty of time for that after.Since he was 18 he's worked for Shin-Ra and pourin' drinks behind a bar wasn'

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[tom_lefroy]

"And what would be in an 'Icicle Run', then?" asks a young man who has only once seen someone behind the bar before.

He is dressed rather immaculately and speaks with a proper English accent, only slightly mixed with an Irish flavour.

[sleazeoverstyle]

"It'd be beer. On tap. Served ice cold."

Who the fuck doesn't know what an... oh, right. No one here but him and Tifa and Vincent and a couple other lucky people who've actually had one know what it is. It's easy to forget he ain't back home... like he'd ever set foot on this side of a bar back there? Nah.

He's always too busy drinkin' and spendin' his gil on the other side.

"You want to try some? You don't like it, I'll drink it for you." There's only one real question. "Glass or pint?" Guy looks awful friggin' fancy for bein' at a bar, but what the fuck. Takes all types, or that's what his brother used to tell him.

[tom_lefroy]

Back at home, a pint is a pint and if you wanted ice, you'd simply ask for it - with ice.

And no fancy pub or gathering would ever serve ice cold beer - drinks like scotch and whiskey and wine would be a more popular choice.

"Sure. A pint," he requests. "Thank you."

[sleazeoverstyle]

That's easy: he pulls a pint with just the right amount of foam, at least till the foam slops over the top and down the side.

HEY. Maybe there's more to this shit than he knows, but fuck it: he'll get it right on the second try and this first pint gets to be his. This time he's a little more careful and it comes out just right: a nice froth on top, nothin' spilling over the side.

"There. Did it." He sets the pint glass down on the bar and slides it over to the guy. "First time back here." Like that explanation was actually necessary? He doesn't think so.

[tom_lefroy]

"I'd say you're doing well," he says with an easy shrug, accepting his drink graciously.

"I've never done it, myself."

[sleazeoverstyle]

"First time for everything." He raises his own Icicle Run to the guy in a toast and takes a sip: it's just as good as when Tifa served it to him.

"So. Usual questions: you been here long? You stuck here? Where the hell you from? And what do they drink there?" Might as well throw in one question that's bartending-specific, just for the fuck of it.

[tom_lefroy]

"Indeed," he responds, raising his own glass to toast.

And it is good.

"Ah. Not as long as others here," he replies, smiling slightly. In a place like this, these questions truly are the usual. "Maybe a little less than a year. I've had the good fortune never to be Bound as they call it, and my world is 1796 London, England, during the reign of King George the Third."

He pauses, contemplating his drink for a moment.

"I suppose we have a vast amount of choice, if one knows where to look. Scotch, whiskey, wine, ale and the like ... and yourself?"

[sleazeoverstyle]

Ask a lot of questions, get a lot of answers: that's the way it goes and he ought to know better. It's the second time tonight someone's mentioned this England place.

"Let's see. Me, I come and go, been doin' it for a little while. I'm from the city of Midgar on the planet Gaia, and those first two drinks?" He nods over to the Specials board. "Those are home-brew. The first is an ale, my personal favorite. And you've already got the Icicle Run, and so do I, and now you know what we drink there. Among other things."

Actually, he'll drink anything he can get his hands on if the situation's desperate enough. Fortunately, he hasn't been that desperate in a long friggin' time.

"Oh, and yeah, never been stuck here myself. I think that'd drive me up a wall."

[tom_lefroy]

"Well, it's quite good," he says in regards to his drink, looking rightfully impressed.

It probably would be quite splendid to take trips to other worlds simply just to try their drink - among other things.

In any case ... he nods. "I believe it would do the same to me as well. I usually do not stay here very long each time I come, as it is."

[sleazeoverstyle]

"You been to any other worlds? 'Cause I can tell you, the first time someone told me this wasn't my home planet, I looked at 'em like they had six eyes and green teeth."

Well, that green teeth thing... he's seen a few of those. Usually in the dark corners of bars where someone's forgotten they don't live there for a few weeks at a time.

[tom_lefroy]

He shakes his head, chuckling.

"No, I haven't. Though, I do believe I had a similar experience when I first came here. In fact ... I met a friend here who shares my face. It took some time to get used to all of it, particularly because the idea of magic and a bar at the end of the universe is simply impossible in my world."

[sleazeoverstyle]

HEY.

"There's this guy here named Axel. People keep thinkin' I'm him, although I keep friggin' telling him, he ain't as good-lookin' as yours truly." When they were kids, him and his sister and brothers used to play that whole that person looks like you game, but he never really saw it. He looked most like his oldest brother.

Then he got here and all that shit bein' mistaken for Axel started.

"And back home we have magic and bars, and sometimes you could throw the two things together and come up with some special shit, but the whole end of the universe thing? Not a friggin' chance. Shit, we can't even travel to other planets by rocket, never mind by a friggin' door."

[tom_lefroy]

"Ah. When I first learned that magic was real and not simply a dark witch's conjuring trick, I admit: I thought I lost my mind. But then eventually getting to see this place and meeting Will, and another man whose name I cannot recall ... all of us who share the same face, well, how can one not help but believe after so much proof?"

He smirks. "Of course, I must admit that I, too, am the best looking of the lookalikes."

He pauses.

"And I cannot say I've ever met anyone who looks like you, whether he is Axel or not, before."

[sleazeoverstyle]

Well, that's somethin'. Personally he doesn't really see the similarities with Axel, unless you look at the hair color and face shape and tattoos and the friggin' voice, and he ain't never met someone else with his own voice before.

That's the scariest part.

But he has to laugh at the guy's best-lookin' line. That's the sure sign of an ego that ain't all frail all over the place.

"Axel... I ain't seen him around for a while. I keep lookin', though. I ever do find him and you're around and I don't mistake you for one of your twins, I'll drag his ass over and you can be the judge of whether I look like him or not."

[tom_lefroy]

Nope. Tom's ego is quite in tact and rather solid for the most part. There is only one who has the power to chip away at it, and he doesn't even know it yet.

He lets out a laugh.

"That is a fine plan," he says with a nod, a little curious about this Axel character. After all, he's never heard of other lookalikes thus far besides his own. "This place certainly brings about situations you might never have expected, doesn't it?"

[sleazeoverstyle]

"You could say."

He's seen a couple things here, but all in all he's got to say they have more regulation situations back home. Monsters gettin' summoned, and random battles everywhere, and the boss at the Lodge, and all that shit: it's one thing after another. But ain't that what life is all about?

"Yeah, but you gotta just keep goin', right? One foot in front of the other." Isn't it a bartender's job to listen and give advice? He always thought that was kind of the friggin' law.