(no subject)

[mnt_raph]

*Raph enters the bar. He's devoid of apparent emotion, which can only spell disaster for the next person to piss him off. He needs a drink. A strong one. *

Comments

[granny-esme.livejournal.com]

Esme looks over from where she's engrossed with something with the appearance of purple ketchup (http://www.livejournal.com/community/milliways_bar/1280736.html). "Good evening, young Raph. Something to drink?"

[mnt_raph]

*He raises an eyebrow*
Yeah. Just gonna get myself some Jack.

[granny-esme.livejournal.com]

Esme is not particularly familiar with the thought of naming a liquor after such a simple name. Ask for "Throg's Nosebiter" and she'd probably know what you wanted, though.

But she is in a generous mood, and for some reason she seems to quite like Raph, and not even her mun knows why.

So... she asks the bar for about half the amount he wants, and somehow isn't quite surprised when a mostly-full bottle shows up in front of her. She pours some into the saucer of purple ketchup, feeling scientifick and all, and pours some into a handy invisible shot glass.

She slides the bottle down to Raph.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph looks at the blob liquor. He pokes at it. Eventually he just picks it up and shoots it with little in the way of ceremony*

[granny-esme.livejournal.com]

Esme gives him a Look, grabs the bottle back, pours another invisible shot glass full, and hands him the bottle, carefully guarding the shot from him this time.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph, not to be outdone by a seemingly harmless old lady, tries to pour himself an invisible shot of whiskey...needless to say he succeeds in making a mess*

fuckin' hell

[granny-esme.livejournal.com]

Esme tries, not with a terribly great amount of success, to keep from laughing.

She asks the bar for a regular shot glass, and hands it to him.

And then her attention is distracted by the fact that Nessa appears to be drinking up the spilled alcohol...

[mnt_raph]

*Raph waves away her attempts to hand him a shot glass, and drinks straight from the bottle*

Why waste a glass?

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

Svava's sitting at the bar, finishing a dinner of hot chocolate and fried paradoxes, those being something she knows is quite safe to order. There's a calico kitten sleeping next to her. She gives Raph a nod, and a curious look.

[mnt_raph]

*Raph returns the nod and then mouths "Don't tell Meg", as he does a shot*

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

Considering Meg's reaction to Raph coming in quite drunk the other day, its probably a good idea. Svava gives him a wry look.

"Are you alright, though?"

[mnt_raph]

Aces.
You?

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

"I'll hazard a guess that 'Aces' isn't well." She shrugs. "I'm pretty well myself though."

[mnt_raph]

*he waves off her concern*
Good ta' hear.
Who's the mouser?

[skjaldmeyjar.livejournal.com]

"Oh." She reaches over to smooth down the calico's fur. "Her name is Edielwiess, I've been taking care of her since I found her."

[locks_it_up]

Death shoots him a look that says he is Being Silly. There's no other way to describe it.

[mnt_raph]

*he shrugs*

[locks_it_up]

She leaves him be. If he wants to talk, he'll talk.

[-tombraider-.livejournal.com]

Lara plops down next to Raph and orders a four horsemen.

She looks out of him out of the corner of her eye, tries to contain her joy at a job well done, and downs the shot.

She waits a whole minute before speaking.

"How many you on?"

[mnt_raph]

Hmmm?
Oh, not many...like three.
You?

[-tombraider-.livejournal.com]

Lara downs the next shot that appears on the bar top.

"Two."

Her eyes flick up to the telly. She snorts.

"You Americans and your bloody baseball."

[mnt_raph]

Hey, at least it makes sense. What the fuck is up with Cricket?

[-tombraider-.livejournal.com]

"Origin of your baseball."

She drops her sunglasses on the bar, and can't help but grin.

"Footie, now there's a game. Full contact at its best."

She slides the rocket launcher off her shoulder, and it lands below the bar with a thud.

[mnt_raph]

*Okay, maybe he's had a bit more than three. He didn't even notice the rocketlauncher*

How much contact could there be in a game where you can't use your hands?

[-tombraider-.livejournal.com]

She smirks.

"You got it first hand. Had a mate that has a dent at his temple when one of the wings confused his head for the ball."

She downs another shot that appears on the bar.