Who: Helen (
applelimber), Open!
When: The beginning of happy hour.
Where: The Foxhole
Format: Paragraph, action if people want to start their own threads and do it that way.
What: The Foxhole's Grand Opening. You don't have to comment directly to Helen. :) You're welcome to start your own open or private threads.
Warnings: Possible drunkenness. Bar brawls
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Comments 87
Martha was at the moment preparing the specials list on a small piece of blackboard. Helen had selected a number of interesting wines and beers from Dismas, but the other girl was especially pleased to write down her own contribution- a case of Strongbow she had gotten at Berend's. True, she had to spend two hours arguing down the price, and it was swill to begin with, but the bar seemed incomplete as long as it was unavailable.
She tried to recreate the logo in the top corner. Its toes dipped into the 4:30 on the Happy Hour, but with the limited space available it seemed pretty enough.
"What do you think?" She placed the slate near Helen's seat at the bar. "Clear enough?"
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"Clear enough for me." She shrugged. Clearly, Helen wouldn't be difficult to work for. "Thanks again for all your help." Martha had been helping her get ready for days now. "In fact..." She grinned, hopping down from the other side of the bar so that she was behind it now. "First drink's all yours. What's your pleasure?"
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"Here's to ringside seats." She grinned, knowing they had the best vantage points for anything and everything that went on.
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"It could be worse," she said charitably. She stood and brushed her hands off, glancing at her friend who was, of course, sitting on the bar.
"Try not to go overboard," she muttered, knowing her words would likely be falling on deaf ears.
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"So, worked up a thirst yet?" The grin was still on her lips as she slid one of the mugs towards her. "Oh, by the way, have you ever heard of a wet t-shirt contest?"
...So much for not going overboard.
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The second question drew from her a skeptical glance over the lip of her mug.
"I haven't heard of it, no." That grin could not mean it was anything good.
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Her grin only widened as she leaned forward and folded her arms across the back of a chair.
"Apparently girls pour water on themselves. They drink for free and win money if they have the best..." She almost said it. Her mouth was open to say it. But then she closed it and grinned yet again. "It's a pretty popular ritual for bars."
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She looks around for a moment before spotting Helen and walking over with a little wave. When she gets close enough, she asks curiously, "Does it normally get this cold here?"
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Her silver eyes slid back to EVE right before a grin crossed her lips.
"Right. Who am I kidding." She'd celebrate lots of things. Helen turned away just long enough to pick up a bottle from a box on the floor.
"Sit. I've got just the thing to warm you up." The smirk remained as she placed the open bottle in front of her.
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"That is ... interesting! What is it?" She's going to let that first sip settle a moment before trying any more.
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And damn but the place looked like the dingiest and sleaziest parts of Gotham, heavy with the smell of beer. It was pretty empty so far, but there was a good vibe there.
It lacked a broken jukebox and a bar brawl, but it was warm, and the wall behind the counter was filled with bottles.
What did a guy want more?
He put the bottle he had been carrying ( one that look like the ones being drunk here) on the counter. He smiled. "Little housewarming gift. Actually it's part of the clever ploy to see Priscilla drunk." He poked at the weird-looking bottle, looking at Helen. "Don't let plain old humans drink it straight, this shit is potent enough to make you blind."
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He laughed. "Four to one, maybe, but I'm ready to bet I'd be teared apart before I could move." And oh, did he like strong and dangerous women.
He watched her studying the bottle. "Deneve?" He wasn't sure he had already heard the name - but the more drunk people, the better.
"What are the entertainment ideas?" Or he could just count his blessings and enjoy being in a bar with beautiful and dangerous women. Maybe even do a strip tease for them. He snorted.
"Which beer you reccommend?"
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Still, she didn't look like much of a threat now with her relaxed posture. She placed the bottle aside, giving a dramatic sigh at the mention of entertainment ideas.
"The only one I've had so far got shot down. The floors in this place aren't great." Helen doesn't mention exactly what the idea was, though it might get her a volunteer to repair the floors.
The smile, always a little on the sly side, returned to her lips as she placed a bottle on the counter. "Best you ever drank or it's free."
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Even before she steps inside, she's squinting her eyes. It's dark, and kind of noisy, and she makes a slightly panicked face at the creepy wall boards, and overall the effect makes her kind of want to refuse to touch anything without gloves on, but what can she do?
Not much. So she steps around a few people, careful not to... make any kind of unwanted contact with them... and taps the bar a little.
"Helen?" She sets a little bag on the bar. "I brought cherries."
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"Hey there Priscilla." Helen migrates back in the direction of the bar. She wasn't sure if that particular Claymore would show up or not. Bars didn't seem have quite the appeal to her as they did for the former twenty-two. Maybe this was more of a...moral support kind of thing. That's something that fit her.
"Wow." Helen arches a brow after peeking into the bag. She actually brought them. "Well, a promise is a promise." She smirks and turns toward the small selection of bottles. "Hmm. Maybe something a little sweet..." Well, there was the selection that Jason brought.
"Should I go ahead and make one for your boyfriend?" Helen had banned Senji from the Foxhole...so clearly he must be on his way.
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She stands on her toes, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of what Helen is up to. "So, what are you going to make? I don't exactly drink, but I wouldn't mind just one. ...the last time I went to a bar, I had to carry Senji home and sleep against his wall." And at at she rolls her eyes a little.
"Mrmph. Maybe he shouldn't show up. ...why is it so dark in here?"
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"Not sure it has a name." Helen mixed the contents of a couple of bottles in a shot glass and took a whiff.
"Yeah...no."
Too strong. Helen frowned, pouring that in a larger glass and then adding orange juice to it. The result were pale gold and hopefully sweet and weak enough for Priscilla. She smirked at the question as she topped the drink off with one of the cherries that Priscilla brought. "All good bars are on the dark side. It makes it funnier when drunk people try to find the door." Helen slides the glass over to her. "There you are. One Desert Queen."
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