(Untitled)

[doesnotmiss]

Sam's downstairs, again.
(December 24th)
He'd slept like a rock in Cata's room, and thought that maybe he could manage getting one of his own, earlier. But the Bar is... odd, today. Possibly more so than usual.
(9 PM, Eastern Standard Time)
But it's hard to tell when you're more odd than usual yourself.
(From here on in, I shoot without a script)

Comments

[thanksrainman]

Gus wanders over, wearing a mildly confused look on his face and holding a fairly large tray with several drinks on, including cocoa, spiced cider, tea, several mixed drinks, a glass of Atlantean, and something resembling orange juice.

He's got a cup of coffee for himself. Spotting Sam, he offers over the tray.

"Drink?" he asks. "Took the damn Bar ten times to get my order right."

That's GOT to be a new record.

[doesnotmiss]

"For you, too?" Perhaps it's caught the plague.
...Hey, around here, you evidently never know.
Sam hesitates at the offer of a drink, for a moment; the Guild's training is hard to ignore. But the service here is apparently safe enough for Cata's liking - and there's the fact that he's not entirely himself, at the moment.
"I could use something to drink, I think," he says, and takes the tea (best to err on the side of caution, with everything else). "Thank you."

[thanksrainman]

Don't worry, Sam. Gus is a sleaze, but he'd never try anything in-bar. Security here is scary.

"Oh, what'd it do to you?" Gus asks. He sets the tray down on a nearby table and takes an empty seat. Taking a drink of his coffee, he reels, as though he's just been punched in the face.

There's whiskey in his coffee.

"Erm... careful with that," he warns, pointing to the tea that Sam took. "Might be a little strong."

[doesnotmiss]

"I was trying to get myself a room. It didn't exactly go according to plan."
(I had a tea the other day)
After the warning, Sam takes a cautious sip of his tea.
(WINE AND BEER)
"...Just a bit, yes. And I really don't think I need alcohol on top of everything else." Fates only know what might happen if he were drunk and ill all at once.

[bohemian_mark]

Alright. This... is a new one.

Mark stares at the guy with the camera, then pulls his own out of his bag.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have, well, I don't even know what we have here, but it would seem to either be an insane person or a fan, and we all know how much I hate insane fans.

Well, here. Have a stunned Mark.

[doesnotmiss]

Sam's got his eyes closed, for the moment - he's not sleeping, just actually resting his eyes for a moment - but the narration is hard to miss. Especially since he's been fighting it off all day.
"Or perhaps," he replies without opening his eyes just yet, "he's just ill. Unless I've gone completely round the bend and am narrating to myself."
He'd better not be.