"Oh Grand Lady of the Mahogany Persuasion! I will take your finest port, and your finest wenches this eve. Start off with the port, and just keep the maids coming!"
A note appears instead.
"'Social Experiment'? Nay, Lady, I think you mean bar tending. But I--"
'ZzzzzZZzzzz...'Porthos blinks at the Bar. "She's sleeping," he mutters, blinking
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"...You're joking, right?"
Because if you're not, and a bottle of wine survived Ancient Greece, you're so buying the bartender a round.
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"It isn't French," he points out, turning around to examine the collection of wines. "But if it hasn't turned sour, I imagine it would be quite--Oh look!"
HE HAS COME UP VICTORIOUS!
Spoon gets a healthy goblet of wine, poured with much ceremony.
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Ingress laughs. "Hi. I'd like a milkshake, please."
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"...A what?"
Milk. Shake.
OH THE MENTAL IMAGES.
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Ice? ICE?? What?!
"...Does it... have wine in it?"
He can do wine!
He begins looking around the Bar for this alleged "ice" the girl speaks of.
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But she can be very mature! When she's being threatened with rock-scrubbing, anyway.
"Please, may I have something to drink?"
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Yeah, he's just going to stare.
(He's, uh, never seen a green person before.)
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"Um. Sir?"
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"You are green."
Beat.
"And very lovely."
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(He might have already been drinking, this evening.)
"Porthos!"
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Porthos turns to his friend and manages to (mostly) restrain a smirk.
"In good spirits, my friend? Or simply drinking them?"
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Porthos gets an arm slung around his shoulders and a half-hug before Athos glances over at him.
"Wine. What are you drinking?"
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"I have yet to partake. I seem to be, uh, under new employment?
"Don't tell Aramis."
(That last bit is whispered with utter seriousness.)
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