I drink; therefore I am. (OPEN)

[code_obsidian]

WHO: Garak and whoever shows up (Feel free to threadjack and ignore posting order, ya drunks.)
WHAT: Getting drunk, self medication, and a stunning display of healthy coping mechanisms.
WHERE: The bar.
WHEN: Early evening until.

Comments

[got_his_towel]

Ford was looking for something hoopy on the jukebox, a glass of hypervodka in his hand, when he heard someone come into the room. He turned and saw a Cardassian (though not the gul he'd met before) stalk up to the bar and begin drinking like it was his trade.

Ford turned back to the machine and settled on some Orion Light Opera, then went back to his stool, two down from the newcomer and looked at him, pouring a second kanar.

"Hi," Ford said.

[code_obsidian]

"Hello," Garak said amiably enough. He listened to the music selection, head tilted, for a moment or two and nodded his approval. It wasn't Klingon Opera. That was a blessing. Downing the kanar, he reached to pour himself a third without breaking stride. "What's your drink of choice today?" he asked. It was clear, whatever it was. He didn't think it was water judging by the glass it was in.

[got_his_towel]

"Hypervodka," Ford replied amicably. "I usually drink Gargle Blasters, but Zaphod made the best ones and he's gone now." He looked over at the Cardassian. "Kanar," he observed. "We had some at the party. Eventually."

[code_obsidian]

"Gargle Blasters," Garak said, eyes widening slightly. "I'm going to hazard a guess that you're not human. Most humans that I know would be dead from regular Gargle Blaster consumption." Or hypervodka, for that matter.

"Yes, kanar is my preferred drink, not the thick stuff, though." He waved a hand. "There was a party? A shame I missed it. I do like parties."

[got_his_towel]

Ford was pretty much of the opinion that dating a Klingon was possibly even worse than listening to their music, but he didn't comment.

"Have you ever been to a Disaster Area concert?" he asked Garak conversationally, finding a bowl of pretzels on the bar and putting them within the Cardassian's reach as well as his own.

[torchwood_doc]

"Alright, mate?" Acknowledging Dean, he saw the barman setting up a row of shot glasses and his usual pint (one of the few pluses in being stuck here- that and not having to pay.)

Silently returning the nod from (he presumed) the Cardassian Kaylee said she'd met in the garage with Dean, Owen grabbed the nearest shot glass and downed its contents, two more followed the first, then he picked up the pint, drank some and then dropped the final shot glass into it.

Finally satisfied, he turned and leaned back against the bar, pint in hand and surveyed the bar.

[code_obsidian]

"Haven't had the pleasure," Garak said, reaching for a small handful of the pretzels. He popped one into his mouth and chewed thoroughly before swallowing, never a fast eater. "No, the last concert I was able to attend was on Romulus, of all places." He sighed. "Their music is as gray and dull as their planet. I don't recommend it. If you like excitement, try Tzenketh," he added with dark humor.

[got_his_towel]

Ford stared at him for a second.

"I like Disaster Area," he pointed out. It didn't get much more exciting than that. "I know Hotblack Desiato," he added. "And almost flew one of their prop ships into a sun by accident." He paused. "Well, it was flying into the sun on purpose. I was on board it by accident."

[capj_harkness]

Jack strode into the bar just in time to hear Julian ask Owen's permission to give him the hypo. Of course Owen refused. Jack rolled his eyes. Owen didn't even know he was there yet. All the better for the serving of interference he'd promised Garak.

He walked up and, almost as an extension of his stride, punched Owen, knocking him out easily in the state he was in. He caught the medic's slouching body with one arm and pulled the hypo from Julian's hand with the other.

"You asked his permission?" Jack admonished. "Seriously?" He administered the hypo into Owen's neck, then handed it back to Julian before lifting Owen's wiry frame over his shoulder.

"Nice doing business with you all," he said, heading for the door to take the unconcious Owen back to his room to sleep it off.

[raised_fromhell]

Dean started to educate Julian in the fine art of subtly and lying when Jack Harkness swooped in and fed Owen an knuckle sandwich. On reflex the hunter braced himself for an attack, drink coming down on the surface of the bar and angling himself for a fight.

He frowned at Jack's scolding of the Starfleet doctor and waited until the man had carried out his own drunk medic before clapping a hand on Julian's shoulder, a comforting gesture and to also keep the other man from rushing off after the two of them.

"Subtly." Dean said. "They don't teach that at the fancy space military school you went to?" He reached around and motioned to the bartender. "Scotch for the Doc."

He picked up his drink while he waited for Julian's to come and grimaced as he took a sip. "Alright," The hunter raised his voice so he could be heard over the music and across the bar when Ford and Garak had taken refuge from the humans. "When I said put on some rock, I meant rock and roll. From Earth. Or something as close to what you aliens will find acceptable."

[got_his_towel]

Ford had, truthfully, enjoyed the show. Anytime he was in a bar and someone besides him got punched, it was a good evening. He looked across at Dean blankly as he explained what sort of music he'd been hoping for, then looked at Garak.

"Was that Jack Bloody Harkness?" he asked.

[code_obsidian]

Garak hadn't really been privy to the music selection conversation, on his way out of the bar and focused on other things at that time. "Not a fan of rock music, then?" he asked Dean casually.

"Indeed it was," Garak answered Ford. He smiled somewhat smugly into his glass as he lifted it for a long swallow. Not only had the crisis been averted, he was absolved of further babysitting duty and could now enjoy his slow spiral into intoxication. If he was lucky, Owen wouldn't remember a word Bashir said about his responsibility for his presence there, so he wouldn't be blamed when he came to.

[got_his_towel]

Ford accepted Garak's answer about Bashir without any problem. It sounded reasonable to him.

He shook his head in answer to the next question. "Not a function," he told Garak. "But it's part of the hotel. Sometimes you'll just happen to find exactly what you want to hear the first try."

[code_obsidian]

"Pity that," he said. "Ah, well, let's give it a go and see what comes up." He found a few Cardassian selections he liked, a little Deltan mood music which prompted him to say to Ford, "I hear it's a very different experience with the pheromones. Too bad anyone else but a Deltan would go insane with lust from it in a live concert." He finished off his selection with something he had never heard of but liked the look of one of the words, klezmer.

When he stepped back, the music playing skipped a couple of times, and suddenly a wild Romanian Jewish folk tune began to play, the lyrics incomprehensible to Garak because they were sung in Yiddish. "What is that?" Garak called over his shoulder to Dean, believing it was one of Dean's selections.

[only_human]

Julian laughed, hard. "Garak! Just your luck you select a song and out comes Yiddish!"

[code_obsidian]

"I selected this?" Garak looked surprised and glanced at Ford as though for confirmation. He took a long pull from the kanar bottle. "Could be worse. It could be Tholian."

[raised_fromhell]

Dean caught Julian's arm before he stumbled unto his face. "If you say so." The hunter walked up to the door and held the doctor steady so he could key into the room.

"Not exactly the kind of company you probably want to be bringing back to your room." Dean mused with a crooked grin. "Bar doesn't seem to get quite a lot of women dropping in."

[only_human]

Julian looked at Dean a beat longer than was normal and his head titled to the side as he contemplated his friend.

"Why would I noh ... not want you to come into my room? Are you known for boiling people's heads ... in acid or something? He was leaning against Dean and the door now, unaware of why they were standing still.

[raised_fromhell]

Dean stared at Julian for a long minute. "Well ain't you a smooth operator." The hunter groused. "I was talking about women, dumbass. Their company would probably be a whole hell of a lot more fun than mine right now...wouldn't you agree?"

Dean waited expectantly for the doctor to get to openning the door. "You just going to stand there and complate life? Or do you want to get testing the samples of booze we brought back?" He waved his half full bottle of whiskey for demonstration.

[only_human]

Julian laughed when he realized how he'd misunderstood Dean's meaning. "Yes, a woman would be much more ... fun. I could finally find out if ... if those trill spots go all the way down." He giggled and realized he was holding his key.

"Oh. Yes, we need to go in and I ... I have the key. Right."

After much thought of how to insert the key properly and several failed attempts, Julian looked back at Dean sheepishly. "I swear I know how to ... how to do this. It's not hard."

He turned back to the door and the key and tried again. "I just ... it just ... Ah! Finally!" The door opened so fast, Julian fell into the room and hit the floor. He erupted in laughter, clearly unharmed and too inebriated to feel it if he were. He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling.

"Come on in, Dean. I do hope the room stops spinning soon, though."