(Untitled)

[thegreat_gatsby]

After having stayed here for over a year, agreeing to tend bar was the least Gatsby felt he could do in return for everything the bar had done for him. Taking up a position behind the bar (apron and all) he took a few moments to mull over drinks before putting up the specials board.

Specials
Summer Fling
The Lady in Red
Rolls-Royce
And, following a

Comments

[weplayparts]

Saffron, in a man's shirt and jeans, takes a seat by the bar.

"Didn't expect to see you back there."

[thegreat_gatsby]

"Neither did I," he admitted, straightening out his apron.

"But a favor to Lady Bar is one I can't exactly refuse. Can I get you something to drink?"

[riversinger]

River takes a seat at the bar where she can have a good view of the room. Usually she has an armload of books, but not today. Today, she has a simple notepad and a fountain pen. (She loves these archaic forms of writing technology Bar keeps sharing with her.)

When she catches the barman's eye, she gives him a small smile.

"Good evening. Pint of Guinness if you please."

[thegreat_gatsby]

"Of course."

Gatsby ducked behind the bar, drawing out a pint glass and finding the tap to go with it. Pouring it out, he carefully placed it on the bar, sliding it over towards River.

"No ingredients for me to mess up on that one, I should think."

[riversinger]

River holds up a finger as he speaks, cringes a little as the brown liquid foams up and over the rim, spilling out across the bar.

"Well, not... precisely..."

Right now she's really glad she didn't have a stack of books on the bar.

[thegreat_gatsby]

He bowed his head slightly in apology, a small amount of mortification flashing across his features as he watched the glass.

"I say, I'm sorry," he said, with no little consternation, ending the statement with a few clicks of his tongue.

"I daresay I haven't gotten as good at that as I'd like. Here, your drink is on me. Jay Gatsby."

[puckishly]

A slim young man, dressed in an ill-kept ensemble whose individual components date from the eighteenth and twentieth centuries respectively, laughs delightedly at the specials list.

"How perfectly preposterous," he says with a grin.

[thegreat_gatsby]

Gatsby, at that comment, looked back at the specials board, squinting slightly as though reassessing his choices in light of the young man's statement.

"You think so, old sport?"

[puckishly]

Puck looks sort of squirmily amused at the moniker, though he must admit that he is both old and, under some definitions, a sport.

"I mean no offense, of course," he says brightly. "'Tis simply that the assortment, when taken all together, makes for quite the afternoon."

[thegreat_gatsby]

It was something that Gatsby tended to call most of the male persuasion, more out of habit than anything else.

"Mm."

Wiping his hands on his apron, Gatsby smiled across the counter.

"Care for any part of it?"

[evilontheloose]

The very short woman takes a seat on a stool, resting her robotic arm on the counter. "Give me a boilermaker."

"With straight whiskey."

[thegreat_gatsby]

Offering her a mock salute, Gatsby took a few moments to mix up the requested drink before sliding it across the counter.

"Done."

[evilontheloose]

Her mood goes up a notch at the drink's arrival. "Thank you." And Jordan takes a low, pleasured swallow, enjoying the bitter drink. "Hmm, very good."

[thegreat_gatsby]

Gatsby couldn't help but look a little smug at this pronouncement.

"I'm glad you think so."