Castiel is standing by Bar, minding his own business, when the note appears.
Being an angel of a curious nature, he picks it up and reads it. And frowns.
“I do not understand.” A second note promptly appears. “No, I understood that,” Castiel says. “But I do not understand why….” A third note, this one apparently being a bit more Thou Shalt in
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This might be one of them.
"Castiel?"
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Castiel inclines his head politely. It is important, he believes, in the service industry to be polite.
Not that he wouldn't be polite to Meg, anyway, but if he is going to tend Bar, he wants to do it properly.
"What can I get for you?"
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"Um.
"I'll have the milk, thank you."
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Castiel ducks down behind the bar and retrieves a glass. Then turns to get a carton of milk from a refrigerated area along the back.
Holding the glass in one hand, Castiel carefully and precisely pours the milk to within an inch and a half of the glass' rim. Scientists handling plutonium have looked more careless.
He sets the glass down in front of Meg.
"I am glad to see you in, tonight."
Really. It's likely not apparent, but Castiel feels a bit out of his depth, being asked to do this job. Meg's presence is calming.
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Castiel says this as if that explains everything.
"It seems quite popular, there. Though I have not tried it myself."
As flavors go, Castiel would not say that it is the strangest that he has seen people consume.
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Like every other place in the world, Japan has had its troubles. Moreso than many places, in fact.
"As human cultures go, it is an old one. Their traditions, I find, give them a sense of stability that some others lack."
"Did you want a Pepsi?"
Castiel is new to food service. He is not sure if choosing to comment on an item is meant to be an order.
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He tips his hat to Castiel before asking, "What's an ice cucumber, sir and why's it in a Pepsi?"
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"It is popular in Japan at the present time," he says. "But I do not know how it was chosen as a favorable flavor."
"I believe the combination is meant to be refreshing."
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There had been a false alarm on a possible Seal there two days ago.
"Yes. Sarsaparilla."
Castiel makes no move to go for any of the many bottles or supplies behind the bar.
"I have no idea what that is."
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It's not long before a voice calls, "Cepheus, get back here!" and there's a somewhat frazzled-looking Mia following the laugh and finally ducking below, catching it with a, "There you are!"
"Hi, Mama!" the baby now in her arms says, delighted that she's participated in the game of catching him.
He is wiggly, though it's kind of hard for him to move now that she's holding him and he's holding a rather bulky sippy cup in his hand.
Realizing where she is, Mia gives Castiel a sheepish smile and explains, "He seems to have made up this game where he takes off all of his clothes and I have to catch him and get him dressed again."
She then reaches to get Cepheus's sippy cup. Meanwhile, he's waving it at Castiel and giggling.
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"What is the object of the game?" he asks.
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The child fusses a little now that his sippy cup is out of reach.
"I'm getting better. I caught him before he took his diaper off again."
She's going to have to put a sticking charm on that thing.
"Would you please put some milk into the sippy cup for him?" she requests. "Cepheus, let's calm down. He's going to get you some milk."
"Geh mil?" the baby parrots back, though still a bit cranky. "Geh mil?"
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Castiel retrieves the milk carton. It takes him a moment to figure out how the lid comes off the top of the cup.
"Does the game have a winner?" he asks curiously as he pours.
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"Aloha!"
Grin!
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"Stitch. Hello," he says, politely.
"Is there anything I can get for you this evening?"
He asks the question like someone who has learned it off of a card.
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Stitch is not most patrons.
"Coffee?" The response is nearly immideate, eyes shining hopefully behind an even wider display of teeth.
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He has been asked to bartend. That means serving patrons what they want. And yet he is very mindful of a certain poster behind the bar.
In fact, he glances back at it before he answers.
"I can give you the safe kind," he says.
By which he means 'decaf.'
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