Happy Hour

[collects_ears]

Whistling to himself, George slips behind the bar.

After being gone several days, it feels good to be back.

He glances at the specials board, makes a couple of quick additions then announces:

"Tonight's drinks are Oasis, Opal Cocktail, Orlando Amethyst, The Other Half.."

"What'll it be?

Comments

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"I don't think I've heard of any of this drinks. What do you suggest?"

[collects_ears]

He smiles.

"I've not tried any of them myself. Although, I think the Orlando Amethyst sounds rather tempting.."

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"What's in it?"

[collects_ears]

"Gin, Chambord raspberry liqueur, Pineapple juice and... ice."

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

He nods a nod of approval.

"I'll have that, then."

[collects_ears]

"Coming right up." George begins to prepare the drink.

"I've not seen you about the Bar before.. Who might you be?"

[badinlatin]

"Sometimes, the drinks are rather odd 'round about here," Mal offers, sidling up to the bar.

"Wei, new here?"

Mal = Sociable. Sometimes.

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"Yes. But my name is Jack, not Wei."

[ ooc: lolz, I was going to tag you, but then I figured it was too late and I was too tired, but then you tagged me, so yay, but it'll be slowtime soon cause I really need to hit the sack. ]

[badinlatin]

[ooc: not a problem.]

"Sorry," Mal starts with a chuckle. "Wei is 'hello' in Mandarin. You're Jack? M'name's Mal."

[jackdriscoll.livejournal.com]

"You mean Chinese?" he asks, sticking out his hand for a shake. "Nice to meet you, Mal."

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

A dark-haired pilot slumps onto a bar stool, only sparing a glance for the oddity of a bartender. He didn't know this place even had one.
"Whyren's Reserve, neat, and I don't ever want to see the bottom of the glass." He only has a endless round of publicity appearances to look forward to. No reason not to get utterly trashed.

[collects_ears]

"Whyren's Reserve?" he repeats curiously. "What might that be?"

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

Wedge looks up in surprise, brown eyes wide.
"Only the best alcohol to come out of Corellia." Don't tell him the Bar doesn't serve Whyren's anymore. He might cry, poor boy.

[collects_ears]

He smiles. "I'm not familiar with it, but I've yet to hear of a drink the Bar can't make."

As if to prove his point a glass of something he doesn't recognize materializes in front of him. He pushes it across the bar.

"Does it meet your expectations?"

[rogue-wraith.livejournal.com]

He gives the amber fluid a critical look, sniffs it, then sips it experimentally.

After a moment, he nods.

"That's the stuff. Should get yourself a glass. Haven't really had anything to drink until you've had Whyren's."

[last_adam]

*Adam takes a long look at the drinks.*

I think I'll just have a cider, thanks. Is there some sort of theme this week? Or did they all just sound good?

[collects_ears]

George looks up in surprise.

He wasn't expecting Adam.

"Ah Adam." A pause. "Well met. One cider - coming right up."

[last_adam]

Thanks.

*He smiles.*

How've you been?

[collects_ears]

"Well. And yourself?"

[last_adam]

Good. Really really good.

*He grins - and yawns.*

S'pose I could use a bit more sleep, but then, who couldn't?

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

Svava looks over the specials board curiously as she takes a seat at the bar.

"I have no idea really of what those are- but I guess I will try an Other Half, George?" She smiles over to him.

"How have you been?"

[collects_ears]

"Svava, good to see you." He smiles.

"One Other Half, coming right up."

He begins preparing her drink. "Oh, I'm well enough. And you?"

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

"Well enough." She manages a sheepish smile. "I finally got to thinking about the time. Its January.

As if the month explains it all.

[collects_ears]

He blinks - thinking of various reasons.

Births. Deaths. Anniversaries..

"I fear I'm missing something key here. What importance does January have?"

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

"Because soon its going to be spring, and Archie and I will be married in the spring- as soon as I figure when the weather will be nice enough outside to figure on an exact date." Svava mutters a bit, and looks at the back door, as if glaring at the Scottish rain-and-mud version of springtime that is to come.