2nd bolt

[richtighammer]

((Action, 1124 Taylor Road; public))The last time Thor drank mead, it was out of a cauldron five miles deep, in a golden hall surrounded by the greatest of the Aesir, all toasting his strength with every foaming horn-full they swallowed. Mayfield, however, has neither bottomless cauldrons, nor golden halls, nor, for the most part, Aesir. He's sick

Comments

[paintme_crimson]

[Guess who's late for work. This lady. Not that she cares. However, she figures she might as well skip work when she sees this.]

You...you guys are making booze?

[richtighammer]

What else? [Who is this? Thor doesn't know. BUT SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD USE A DRINK.]

I'd wager it's the first real drink this realm will ever see!

[paintme_crimson]

Alright, screw going to work. [She throws her briefcase into a nearby tree.

Mokou doesn't know the large, bearded man either. But he was making booze on his front lawn and he wasn't a drone. That added up to base points.]

[richtighammer]

[Thor laughs - the more the merrier, after all!]

Drink! The mead wants time yet, but there's beer enough, if you can stomach it!

[paintme_crimson]

Beer...? Never heard of it. Some derivative of vodka? [Mokou does not know of your beer, as Gensokyo is full of wine and vodka. At least in her mun's headcanon.]

[richtighammer]

Vodka? [Thor does not know of your vodka, as it is not something they brewed in Asgard.] Beer is beer!

[He indicates the refreshments with his free hand. There are a lot of refreshments.] It's all this realm has to offer, and a pitiful offering at that, but it will serve.

[paintme_crimson]

Then we're even. I dunno about beer and you dunno about vodka. [She takes one of the bottles and looks it over, plopping down into the grass.]

Alcohol is alcohol, though.

[richtighammer]

Not so when it's mead. [He gives the kettle another loving stir.] Nothing stirs a tale-spinner like mead; nothing incites men to fight, or flyte, so well! It's a drink found on gods' tables, and just the brewing's worth a celebration!

[paintme_crimson]

[She opens the bottle and raises an eyebrow.] Isn't mead supposed to be, like, the booze of the gods, or something?

[richtighammer]

[A wide, wide, grin.]

Aegir, god of the sea, brews the mead for Asgard, and the cauldrons he uses are like smaller seas themselves, all but bottomless! Ours looks poor fare beside his!

[paintme_crimson]

A bottomless cauldron, huh...? [She takes a drink, and nearly chokes.]

Woah, man. This stuff is weak.

[richtighammer]

You'd not find it on any table in Asgard! [He takes a disgruntled swig of his own.] But it will only make the mead taste sweeter, when it comes.

[paintme_crimson]

Out of curiosity, when will it be ready?

[richtighammer]

[He considers briefly, giving the draught another stir.]

The best mead requires time - I'd say two months from now, we'll be celebrating this in proper fashion!

[paintme_crimson]

[She laughs.]

What're you gonna do with it until then? Just keep it on the front lawn here and hope none of the drones take a sample?

[richtighammer]

What mead would boil for two months? [The lack of knowledge about this in this place is nothing short of tragic, in Thor's opinion.] It would be gone in hours! No, a short time on the fire and then into the casks to age, out of the sun.