I'd give her a "Ha!" and a "Hi-ya!" and a "Whoooo ahhhhhh!"

[summonerofmyst]

Who: Anyone interested
What: bar fight
When: Saturday
Where: The Black Spot Bar n Grill
Warnings: violence, language, etc.
Notes: Info can be found here. Action or prose - it's up to you. Don't forget to tag in :D

Comments

[mybffmirelurks]

It took one or two weeks (and handfuls of glass shards, docked pay, bruised heads, and ethanol-laced cuts), but Moira finally decided she getting the hang of this juggling bit! It was such an entertaining job; the people were generally happy and friendly people (to her, and in Moira!vision), if a bit tipsy, and the job was safe and clean (ignoring the constantly airborne and twirling glass objects and regular act of puking). She even made quite a bit in tips, too, and had fun experimenting with odd recipes from the Wasteland she never got to try.

A little improvising was required, though: no nukacola existed on Thor, and she couldn't find mentats, either. In place of mentats was powdered sour-and-spicy candies, and instead of Nukacola Victory was Moira's own creative blend of gingerale, maple syrup, and caffeine. Mix with vodka, shake gently, and serve.

It was to be noted that aside from juggling, Moira had no idea what she was doing.

"One Psudeo-Atomic Cocktail~!" She called, sliding it down the bar to a waving customer-- one who promptly had his face smashed into the glass. Moira squeaked as sudden chaos errupted around her, and by some stroke of luck, ducked down as a stool was hurled at the bar.

Taking a deep breath, she peeked up over the bar, trying not to let the fight unsettle her. "Hey! Y-you all better behave now! Or else Mr. Bouncer is going to get real angr--" Wait; there went the bouncer right now, sailing through the air and out a window.

Welp, there went that idea. "Be nice, now! All of you!" There was no doubt Moira was nervous, though. She was no fighter.

[fbilittleguy]

Oddly enough, Little Guy was mostly indifferent to the chaos that had erupted around him. He had been sitting in the corner of the bar for most of the day, flagging down the odd rich client to sell his black-market weapons to, but business for the most part had been slow. He had tried to stay sober for as long as he possibly could (as he was the one ripping people off, not the other way around), but he was so hopelessly bored that he silently decided to himself he would man up and order the strangest thing he could find - and since people suddenly seemed to care more about using their fists than buying his cheap and highly illegal weapons, Little Guy was definitely off clock, now.

So when he read 'Pseudo Atomic Cocktail,' he had assumed it would be something that would knock him on his ass for the rest of the night, not some sugary-sweet Shirley Temple from hell. He chosen this location expecting to get winked at by a hot local or at least hopelessly sauced later that night, and now there was no hope in hell of either happening because 1) the bar was in complete chaos and 2) his drink was more parts cough syrup than alcohol.

No, Little Guy was not impressed. He strode all the way back to where he had purchased his drink, ducked to avoid an oncoming bar stool, and slammed his glass down on the counter. War raging on or not, he was getting his credits back. "The hell is this?!" he shouted to the nearest juggling bartender, who happened to be cowering behind the edge of the bar.

I am so sorry for the massive quantities of LATE

[mybffmirelurks]

For one, she wasn't cowering; it was strategic positioning that reduced her chances of injury and reinforced her authority as an employee of the establishme--alright, alright, she was cowering.

But Moira did maintain some semblance of professionalism. She was good at that. Mostly. As the angry human strode up, the scientist-turned-bartender glanced at him from where she was peeking over the bar and blinked; then promptly she stood, a bright smile on her face.

"Just a moment, and I've have a looksee!" Moira slides the glass towards her, trying a dab and seemingly oblivious to rock that went skipping down the length of the bar, destroying many glasses and mugs in the process.

"Well, sir, that'd be my Atomic Cocktail! Well. Or my attempts to recreate one. See, I've never tried it before and I'm missing a lot of ingredients that the recipe calls for--" And so Moira started rambling, blocking out the chaos behind that naive smile.