[Priscilla isn't much of a drinker, actually. But considering the circumstances, it's not a bad time to socialize. So, Priscilla sits at the bar, nibbling on peanuts and sipping... wait, that's not beer.]
[Caroline's been here a few times and while she prefers the harder stuff, strawberry flavored, free beer? Heck yes. She's just going to be sitting, people watching, feel free to poke her.]
[Ginko was still on his self-imposed mission to explore this new place. He'd actually covered a lot of ground, in the days since he started, but he hadn't explored everywhere.
Like this place, for example. Wondering what kind of establishment would call itself by the unlikely name of 'Foxhole,' he heads inside.
...and stops just inside the door. A bar. Well, that wasn't exactly the place he'd wanted to end up, but now that he was here... Ginko looks around curiously. It's pretty crowded, and there's a lot of beer being passed around.
While he's standing there, someone shoves a full glass into his hand. Well, then. He moves over to one of the tables, a bit out of the way, and sits. The beer gets put to one side for now; he's more interested in watching the lively scene than drinking.]
[ Theon is a little drunk. All right, well, okay, more than a little, he is loud and bitter and heading towards a spectacular nausea. Somewhere in between bar and the bosom of a beautiful woman, he stumbles whilst juggling two jugs of beer and slops half of one over the side, splashing it over a pale-haired man sitting at the table before him. For an instant he stares in horror, but then he laughs, shouts over the roar of the tavern. ]
My apologies, friend!
[ Theon swings around, plants the jugs on the table so he can try to brush the beer soaking into Ginko away with an already wet hand. ]
Let me pour you the other half to make amends for my clumsiness!
[Ginko hasn't been sitting here long enough to have more than a sip or two of his beer when this happened--someone approached his blind side and poured beer all over him. Springing up and a little away, much like a startled cat, he turns in the same motion to see who it is.
No one he recognizes. Frowning slightly, he brushes the fellow's hands away--that wouldn't help any, not unless this man has a towel. He'll just have to change his clothes later, and he's grateful that his coat is slung over a nearby chair rather than on him, so at least that's still dry.]
...it's fine. [He slides back into his seat, eyeing the other man with a sort of cautious friendliness.] I'll dry, and that's kind of you to offer but, [he indicates his still-full mug,] not really necessary.
[She is not all that interested in the free beer. She does, though - after a time - end up sniffing at a mug of what smells like ...strawberry flavored beer?]
[The bar is nothing fancy - which makes it Bobby's kind of place. But he does have one little question. And after he spots a familiar face, he hopes he'll get an answer. He places his mug down on the table in front of her.]
Can you tell me who the genius was that made all the beer taste more like fruit punch? I ain't some sorority pledge!
[Women. He probably should've guessed. Those he's seen some pretty tough hunters order really fruity drinks on occasion. No names mentioned, because quite frankly, Bobby's embarrassed for them.]
I guess it'll still do the trick.
[He pulls up a chair and sits down, momentarily alert.]
What creature?
[He's got silver and rock salt rounds always at the ready.]
[It's been some time since he last set foot in this place. Surprisingly? It's been missed. This especially when the alternative is running about like a blind fool through 15th century Italy.
Roma.
Whatever.
But yeah, all good memories in this spot. Plus, the tips were killer, even for a Scorched bartender.
He makes his way to the counter, winding carefully between patrons]
[It isn't that Jaime is a beer person, exactly. Actually, he isn't much for beer. But he also isn't much for money these days, what with his inability to carry Casterly Rock on his back when he arrived in this city, and so here is he, sitting in the Foxhole and sniffing at...]
[Seriously, is that strawberry?]
[He makes an unpleasant face and looks up at Desmond.]
[He's eyeing the pint, offering only a shrug to the one holding it, and eventually leans down a bit to take a whiff]
[guh]
Yeah, you got the girly beer, man. Just a sec.
[It's just one of those things a true-blooded bartender has to do when someone gets something that vile. Gesturing with an index finger for the guy to wait, our man slips behind the counter and, a moment later, slides a glass filled with something much darker in front of him, off-white foam spilling slightly over the rim]
Comments 31
[It's pink!]
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Um. I think it's strawberry flavored.
Unless that's not what you meant.
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Like this place, for example. Wondering what kind of establishment would call itself by the unlikely name of 'Foxhole,' he heads inside.
...and stops just inside the door. A bar. Well, that wasn't exactly the place he'd wanted to end up, but now that he was here... Ginko looks around curiously. It's pretty crowded, and there's a lot of beer being passed around.
While he's standing there, someone shoves a full glass into his hand. Well, then. He moves over to one of the tables, a bit out of the way, and sits. The beer gets put to one side for now; he's more interested in watching the lively scene than drinking.]
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My apologies, friend!
[ Theon swings around, plants the jugs on the table so he can try to brush the beer soaking into Ginko away with an already wet hand. ]
Let me pour you the other half to make amends for my clumsiness!
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No one he recognizes. Frowning slightly, he brushes the fellow's hands away--that wouldn't help any, not unless this man has a towel. He'll just have to change his clothes later, and he's grateful that his coat is slung over a nearby chair rather than on him, so at least that's still dry.]
...it's fine. [He slides back into his seat, eyeing the other man with a sort of cautious friendliness.] I'll dry, and that's kind of you to offer but, [he indicates his still-full mug,] not really necessary.
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Can you tell me who the genius was that made all the beer taste more like fruit punch? I ain't some sorority pledge!
[He needs man booze!]
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Not all of it is pink. Though if your aim is for intoxication I think it should prove suitable, even if it...
[Sorority pledge?]
...I am not familiar with that creature.
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I guess it'll still do the trick.
[He pulls up a chair and sits down, momentarily alert.]
What creature?
[He's got silver and rock salt rounds always at the ready.]
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Roma.
Whatever.
But yeah, all good memories in this spot. Plus, the tips were killer, even for a Scorched bartender.
He makes his way to the counter, winding carefully between patrons]
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[Seriously, is that strawberry?]
[He makes an unpleasant face and looks up at Desmond.]
What in all the world has been done to this brew?
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Why? S'it flat?
[He's eyeing the pint, offering only a shrug to the one holding it, and eventually leans down a bit to take a whiff]
[guh]
Yeah, you got the girly beer, man. Just a sec.
[It's just one of those things a true-blooded bartender has to do when someone gets something that vile. Gesturing with an index finger for the guy to wait, our man slips behind the counter and, a moment later, slides a glass filled with something much darker in front of him, off-white foam spilling slightly over the rim]
Try that one? It's heavy, has some bite.
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[Jaime lifts the mug to his lips and... well, now his nose is wet, which is annoying, but the beer, at least, is far more palatable.]
Was that flavored with some sort of fruit?
[He dries the tip of his nose with his sleeve like a boss.]
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