(Untitled)

[applelimber]

Who: Anyone!
When: Friday, August 19th-Sunday, August 21st
Where: The Foxhole
Format: Whatever you prefer. Tag yourself in, mingle and go nuts. Might wanna specify which night threads take place, open or closed, that sort of thing.
What: HAPPY HOUR. or...unhappy hour, idk.
Warnings: TBD

Comments

open, all the nights because she lives here :|

[twoswordjuniper]

[Deneve stays mostly behind the bar. The three foot wide counter is a good separation between her and general stupidity. She is largely aloof but not unapproachable. Provided you are drunk or brave enough.

Wouldn't want to be that noisy tomcat though. Occasionally she glares in his direction, and if looks could kill he would also be the deadest tomcat in Anatole. But he shrugs it off, smug as a fat old cat should be. This is their relationship. A camaraderie made of silent rivalry. It is difficult to say from the outside whether they love or hate each other.

But the bar is short-staffed again. So Deneve is serving drinks as well. She takes an empty glass and sets it on the counter. What was it you wanted?]

[poweroflegend]

[The hunter's sitting at his usual spot by the bar, a gloved fist resting under his chin. Fifteen minutes in and Trevor has yet to order something. That isn't like him at all. So's the pensive faraway look in his eyes instead of the one firmly grounded in the here and now.]

[The thump of the glass on the wooden counter calls him back to reality. Blue eyes blink once, very much surprised. Deneve? Seems like the Foxhole wasn't the only one with a break in routine tonight. He nods at her with that steely courtesy he saves for fellow warriors who haven't quite yet made the jump to being personal friends.]

Lemon ale, please.

;A; sorry for the lateness!

[twoswordjuniper]

[She returns the nod, curt but not unfamiliar, and gets him his drink without a word. When she returns and sets the glass before him she pauses before attending to anyone else. She's not really an employee here and she doesn't care much who has to wait to get their cider or beer.]

Are you well, Trevor Belmont?

[She notes his faraway expression with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't look injured.]

*permasnug* It's been crazy for everyone! ;_;

[poweroflegend]

[A hand closes around the cold sweating mug. They remind him of rain sliding off window glass.]

[...or tears shed for those slaughtered like cattle. Anatole's cleanup crew had yet to wipe all traces of them off the streets, following the Red Elf invasion.]

Aye, well enough, thank you. [At last, a sip.] I cannot say the same for those we've lost.

[It was a sad day whenever a man like Trevor was reminded he couldn't save everyone.]

>u< it has been a little rough all around!

[twoswordjuniper]

[She watches him, silent, and pours herself a cider. Trevor is one of only a few people here who she would willingly drink with and she can provide him no better comfort than to not leave him to drink alone.]

War is a frequent visitor here. More frequent even than old warriors would like. And there are always more casualties than we want.

[Not that she really knew any of those who had died. Either way, she drinks, too.]

But here, there is always the chance that they may return.

Did... Irene really stick her sword out and spin her way up the US northeast coast? 8D

[poweroflegend]

[He meets her silver eyes briefly as she pours. Her lingering to speak with him was noted. And much appreciated. He hunches forward thoughtfully.]

For us Scorched, that is almost a certainty.

[Blue eyes flick briefly to the resident tomcat.]

But in the year I've been here, I've never felt that our hosts were as fortunate.

She did! And she wasn't paying any attention at all to where the cable and power lines are!

[twoswordjuniper]

[She follows his gaze to where Rooster sits, lording it over an entire table. Her eyes narrow at him, but she glances away again without saying or doing anything against the animal.]

True. Perhaps it is part of the reason why they resent us.

[And by perhaps she means "most likely."]