Happy Hour

[wizard_howell]

The front door to the bar practically flies open; a tall, slender black-haired man with turquoise earrings struts in, entirely unconcerned with appearances, entirely unsurprised to find himself suddenly in a different pub from the one where, moments ago, he excused himself to... what was he doing again? Right, using the facilities. Anyone who knows

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[creator_raven]

Raven drops into a barstool, head tilted, black eyes bright.

Something (and someone, of course) has drawn his eye.

"It is human brains in that, yes?"

Maybe he shouldn't sound so hopeful about that.

Oh well.

[wizard_howell]

"One can always hold out hope. Alas, no, it's merely the usual suspects: hops and barley and malt, straight from the keg. A glass or a pint... of Brains?"

He leans forward conspiratorially. "It's the official beer of Welsh football. That means it can't be all bad."

[creator_raven]

Raven wrinkles his nose.

He does not, however, snort.

Yet.

"That is not so much a thing I have seen. Still."

He tilts his head in the other direction, the angle sharp enough to look painful.

"Possibly it is not so bad?"

[wizard_howell]

"Possibly, it's one of God's chosen concoctions. Only the discriminating drinker can truly tell." That, of course, includes every Welshman who ever set foot in a pub.

In fact... there weren't nearly enough pints consumed at the pub out... there, on the other side of the door; he pours himself a pint and one for Raven as well. "It's been a long time, my friend. Here. This one's on the King of Ingary. He owes it to us."

[thanksrainman]

Gus slides up to the bar, his fingers nervously playing with the hole in his khakis.

He's seen enough of this place to realize that something's a bit...off, but he still can't quite figure out what it might be.

"Uhm..." he starts as he nervously shifts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "A bottle of your finest mass-produced lager, if you please?"

[wizard_howell]

He stops.

Short.

"A... bottle? No, no, no, my friend: we're serving it cold and straight from the keg tonight. Unless, of course, you insist on a bottle as a method of transport, in which case I believe I can make that happen for you."

He might as well be wearing a sign that says don't mind the bartender; he's drunker than you... and prettier, too. He fills one of Bar's pint glasses with the Brains cold smooth, then taps his finger to it... and transforms the glass into a perfectly nice bottle.

"Ie! Try this. If you don't like it, we'll get you that lager."

[thanksrainman]

Gus looks at the bottle that's appeared suddenly. He's hesitant to take it. Or touch it, even. It slowly dawns on him that he's not where he belongs at all.

Cautiously reaching out for the bottle, he looks up at the bartender. "That guy wasn't kidding when he said this is the end of the universe, was he?" he asks sickly.

[wizard_howell]

Cheerfully, he mops up a bit of spilt beer with a suddenly-appearing towel. "Not knowing who that guy was or what he said, I couldn't answer in all honesty. But I have to confess that's not my strong suit anyway, so... no, he wasn't kidding when he said it was the end of the universe. You've only just arrived?"

This is interesting. He's been back and forth here for years, but it's been a long time since he met someone new to the place. "Say yes, and the first drink is on the house."

[angela_edmunds]

Angela's been wandering around the bar for a couple of days. She's not sure why she stays. Around every corner is a memory.

She slides up onto a barstool. "Hey, Howl. They got you bartending now?"

[wizard_howell]

"Angela! How's the loveliest lovely teen... ager at the end of the universe? Still reading? Poetry, poetically? Or are we onto something else?"

Fondly, he pats Bar's surface. "We came to an agreement about my role here this evening. I thought it would be fun. Can I get you anything, cariad?"

[angela_edmunds]

Angela smiles and laughs a little. "Oh, I read everything, and they're piling more things to read at school, too."

After all, she's nearly a junior in high school and that's when things start to get interesting.

"Anything non-alcoholic--I'm still underage." She leans her head on her hand, still smiling a little. "So are you? Having fun?"

[wizard_howell]

How sad that she's unable to imbibe. Not even in the seidir, which is... admittedly... strong. But he pours her a tall glass of apple juice, spritzes soda into it, and garnishes it with a slice of orange and a cherry on the stem of one of those ubiquitous and hideously coloured umbrellas.

"Perffaith. Now... I'd say I'm having fun, but that, I'm certain, will make itself evident. Self-evident? Can one make one's self self-evident, or is that redundant? Heavens, let Sophie not see me back here."

Hands on hips again, he laughs. "It's lovely for a change of pace. I'm rather tired of managing the King's war."

[gorgonfondness]

Well.

Mia could use a drink. She blames Milliways this time. Sort of. And the strange time warps it can bring.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it Howl?"

Married or engaged or not, Howl probably wouldn't forget a pretty girl like Mia.

"Recommend anything that can help get down something hard to swallow?"

[wizard_howell]

"Mistress Mia, how could I possibly be standing back here and not have the answer to what you seek?" It's a bartender's job, after all.

With a snap of his fingers, a pint glass of the Black Dragon cider appears. "They say it's just like nectar. Nothing gets past its smooth... uh... ambience, and the flavour is distinct and crisp, and..."

He sounds like a walking advertisement and he knows it. "Here, try some. If it's not to your liking, we'll add a dash of lager to it and then you'll never know what hit you. I take no responsibility for the aftereffect."

She's as lovely as ever, and luckily, he's got a very good memory for names and faces.

"What do you think?"

[gorgonfondness]

Few people have ever been able to forget Mia Ausa. In fact, that's part of why she could use the drink.

She takes a sip and says, "I can't truthfully say it's just like nectar, but only because of the technicality that I've never had nectar."

In other words, she approves.

"So, how are you? How is everyone in your figurative neck of the woods? It's been a while since I've seen Sophie and even longer since I've seen Calcifer."

[wizard_howell]

For a moment there's a bit of a dreamy look in his eyes. It might be due to the fact that he's already been drinking most of the night and Sophie doesn't really know it, or it might be for thinking about his lovely, beautiful, kind, fractious, argumentative, and generally perfect wife. Either way, the look is there.

"Sophie is... we're married!" That says it all: he flashes her his ring, but only for a moment. It's one of those puzzle rings, and it gleams. He takes very good care of it. "And Calcifer... is a regulation pain in the arse, and always has been, and I love him dearly and wish he were here to help tend. Things go so much more quickly when a fire-demon does his share of the work."

With a wave of his fingers, a tiny glass appears, filled with amber liquid. "Nectar. From honeysuckles: for your... perusal and approval and general thirst quenching."

[notagagagirl]

There is a teenager in... um. We'll call it a dress, to be nice (and to keep her from pitching a fit). It's...

It's hideous, let's be honest. She really doesn't have much in the way of sewing skills. But anyway. At least she's decent (which is more than can be said for some of the Gaga girls). Anyway. She's here now, and has had a rather exciting (if not entirely happy) day, and now...

And now there's all these people, and she's kinda thirsty and kinda hungry and there aren't any computers. Not that she likes computers, really, but how else is she supposed to get food?

Poor confused wannabe goth.

[wizard_howell]

"Hullo."

There's a saying he learnt at a young age and it goes something along the lines of drink up and drink often. It's a philosophy that's suited him well for the better part of his life, and it in part is what's led him to be behind the bar tonight.

"Can I help you?"

He realizes it's a rather open-ended question, but her confusion is easy to read.

[notagagagirl]

... If he's one of the boyzone boyclones, they must have uploaded a new fashion plate. Good grief.

"Yeah," She attempts to hide the 'completely-in-over-her-head' behind a front of brashness. It doesn't really work, but surely she gets points for trying. "Where's the orderin' computers?"

[wizard_howell]

His nephew uses computers. Silly things, pointless, clunky, and prone to breaking down. "At this place, the bar herself is your ordering computer. You can ask her for what you'd like, or you can ask me, or you can ask one of the rats. They'll take your order and bring you food."

Another brand-new patron. "Your first time here, I take it? This place is a little bit on the unique side, so if you have questions, ask away. It's what I'm here for."

In part. He's also here to have fun, to flirt, to drink as much as possible, and to chat to girls.

"And... your first drink is always on the house."