"Something silent but deadly," Matt announces, dropping into a seat. "I want drunkenness without tasting the liquor. A girly drink that's still manly, if you will."
Yes, someone is getting antsier than usual about being Bound.
(Matt used to tend bar, once upon a time, before he got his first real writing gig at Studio 60. The mun, however, is an ignoramus, so yeah, there's that.)
T'was merely a suggestion. He's happy to make whatever is requested.
"Those I can't - Bar is generally happy to help me out with. But thankfully for my pride, that's one I know. Even if it's one I don't have much opportunity to make." he says.
George has never acquired a taste for Tequila himself...but knows that many folk enjoy it.
No, all she has to do is look at him with that doeful expression.
"Ginny Weasley, you make an old man feel guilty," he says with a wry chuckle. "If I fail to put something non-alcoholic in the specials, I feel like a terrible fellow."
Tommy's always appreciated three day weekends, but he's never been one for cocktails. Especially not after a prolonged battle in the afternoon and then a random fox attack a while ago. That calls for something a bit more fortifying, or at least a bit more caffeinated. And definitely something a bit more soothing.
Plus, maybe with luck he won't have to deal with random animals jumping on him while sitting before a primary eating surface. Tommy drops down out of the rafters and then perches himself on a barstool, setting his load of papers and books down on the bar surface before pushing his glasses up to sit properly on his nose.
"Hey," he says by way of greeting, and accompanies the word with a little wave of his hand. "Can I just get a cup of coffee with some Grand Marnier in it?" Hayley had taught him that one, and it had become a staple of their casual study-and-movie-nights in school.
An ice pack appears on the bar next to his briefcase before he can make the request, and he plops it onto his left shoulder.
"Oh yeah," Tommy replies with a roll of his eyes. It's more than the shoulder, really; he's a bit bruised and scraped up overall. "An absolute monster of a day at work."
At both of his jobs, if he were to be entirely truthful.
"And then something jumped down out of the rafters on me, a while ago." He frowns. "Which was kind of rude, given that half of the couch was unoccupied."
Plus, you don't just jump on a guy who's writing and doesn't know a) you and b) that you're there.
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"Coming right up, miss."
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"Here you are."
She's a new face, this one.
"I've not seen you about before..."
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Yes, someone is getting antsier than usual about being Bound.
(Matt used to tend bar, once upon a time, before he got his first real writing gig at Studio 60. The mun, however, is an ignoramus, so yeah, there's that.)
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He takes a moment to consider.
"Perhaps... Absolutly Screwed Up?" he suggests. "It contains, Absolut Citron, Orange juice, Triple sec and Ginger ale."
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"Those I can't - Bar is generally happy to help me out with. But thankfully for my pride, that's one I know. Even if it's one I don't have much opportunity to make." he says.
George has never acquired a taste for Tequila himself...but knows that many folk enjoy it.
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Merlin, garbed as usual in his time's clothing, settles to the stool and smiles.
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Its always nice to hear someone speak as he does - regardless if they come from the same land or not.
"If you've no preferences, I'll suggest a glass of Olau red. It's a wine from my homeland."
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His smile is warm, and welcoming this day.
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"Run by the good Sir Myles of the same name - a friend of mine. He takes great care in his wine making. It's a personal favourite of mine."
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"Ginny Weasley, you make an old man feel guilty," he says with a wry chuckle. "If I fail to put something non-alcoholic in the specials, I feel like a terrible fellow."
He winks at her.
"What can I get you this evening?"
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"I don't know why don't you surprise me I'm not sure I'm up for the normal Coke. What is the popular drink in your world?"
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"Tortall has quite a lot in the way of wine and ales, but not much else really. We don't have carbonated drinks, or coffee or anything like that."
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Plus, maybe with luck he won't have to deal with random animals jumping on him while sitting before a primary eating surface. Tommy drops down out of the rafters and then perches himself on a barstool, setting his load of papers and books down on the bar surface before pushing his glasses up to sit properly on his nose.
"Hey," he says by way of greeting, and accompanies the word with a little wave of his hand. "Can I just get a cup of coffee with some Grand Marnier in it?" Hayley had taught him that one, and it had become a staple of their casual study-and-movie-nights in school.
An ice pack appears on the bar next to his briefcase before he can make the request, and he plops it onto his left shoulder.
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"Rough day?" he asks, motioning to the ice pack.
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At both of his jobs, if he were to be entirely truthful.
"And then something jumped down out of the rafters on me, a while ago." He frowns. "Which was kind of rude, given that half of the couch was unoccupied."
Plus, you don't just jump on a guy who's writing and doesn't know a) you and b) that you're there.
Reply
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