(Untitled)

[no_justice]

Death is about to order a drink, when he is greeted with a napkin instead. He reads it.

Very well. Sleep is good for the living.

He's just walking around to the other side when another napkin appears, the writing on which is more obscure, due to being written by someone about to go to sleep.

Pants are required.It's accompanied by something to

Comments

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings," Teja says, amused at the strange breeches that the skeleton is wearing. "I doubt that there is a drink with my name in, not one called Black Count, or Last King."

[no_justice]

I shall take your word for it, Death concedes. What can I serve you instead?

[ostro_goth]

"I would not choose Death By Chocolate, as I take no pleasure in the stuff, much less to die from. Does either of the others contain vodka?"

[no_justice]

The Red Death, I believe, Death offers, starting to make it.

And continues conversationally, I knew someone who died from chocolate once. She was unique.

That amuses him.

[spandexed_edie]

Oh, this is something Edie can play at.

"Does it have to be your real name, or can it be your professional name?"

Because that makes a difference.

[no_justice]

Yes, Death says.

Either one.

[spandexed_edie]

"Well, sometimes I'm Strawberry Girl, so if I could have a Strawberry Kiss, I'd be obliged."

There's a grin for Death on Edie's face. She likes to throw work his way occasionally. Four people last week.

[no_justice]

Death isn't one of those anthropomorphic personifications who likes to be given work, but he returns the grin because he has no lips. A quick glance through a cocktail book and he's starting to make the cocktail the old fashioned way - by pouring liquid from bottles into a shaker.

Why sometimes?

[walksindeath]

Sabriel has to bite her lip at the sight of him.

But bemusement at his appearance or not, professional respect still wins out, and she approaches with a nod and a cautious but polite smile.

[no_justice]

Good evening, Death greets her. Apparently there is a policy about pants when serving bar.

[walksindeath]

O_0

"...Apparently so," Sabriel agrees. "Perhaps for good reason, although I have to wonder at the necessity."

[no_justice]

She was tired, Death explains. I do not think she was paying attention.

[puckishly]

Puck, now thankfully free of his fuzzy dinosaur confines, blinks curiously in the skeleton's direction.

And then blinks into appearance at the Bar, elbows resting nonchalantly on the counter.

"A Robin's Nest, if you would," he says with a very polite smile.

[no_justice]

You mean a human drink with the same name?

Death likes to be sure.

[puckishly]

Puck considers, tilting his head.

"I think so," he decides.

Tempting as a nice robin's nest would be, especially drizzled in hot sauce.

[no_justice]

Death checks the Big Book of Cocktails and sets about making it.

Now I provide entertaining small talk, don't I? He hazards.

[lonelytouristcc]

It may be semi-obvious reasons that lead Chuck to the bar, but after a minute of studying the specials board, head tilted, she speaks up.

"You know, I'm not so sure I know of a drink with my name in it."

[no_justice]

What is your name? Death asks. I might be able to find something.

[lonelytouristcc]

"Charlotte," she answers.

"Or Chuck, depending."

Mostly on who's doing the talking.

[no_justice]

Sadly, a quick scan of Google the Big Book of Cocktails provides nothing.

Can I make you something else?