milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It'a sort of odd how Bars are often a nexus for more activity than just drinking, unwinding and socialzing. How many times has Lando hears the story of how a farmboy and a pilot made a minor deal in a sleazy bar on a desert planet, a deal that changed the history of the galaxy.

And now Lando can't help but think about how other lives are so easily changed by the goings on here. And how much he finds himself caught up in those changes and those lives.

Not being a philosophical man, Lando treats this merely as fact. He helps people, and they help him. Sometimes.

Either way, Lando is content to enjoy a quiet afternoon checking the finance newsfeed on his datapad and sipping an ale.

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*Stopping by as he walks around the bar, he politely nods, bar-towel over one shoulder.*

Can I get you a refill, or anything to eat?

"Ah. Are you part of the service staff?" Lando has usually only dealt with Bar and the rats. "A refill would be good."

Surprisingly enough. We don't often need to be around, as the waitrats and Bar usually take care of things.

*Taking a silver flask from his back pocket, he opens it and pours a refill for Lando.*

Lando watches, a touch confused. "Er, I was having a Correlian ale."

*Grinning, he motions to the cup.*

Take a sip.

*The liquid looks rather like what was already in the glass.*

Lando takes a sip. He smiles but is still disturbed. "Is it safe to assume that your flask is not an ordinary flask?"

Safe to assume, and to drink, I assure you. Mine is a position of knowing the intricacies involved in beverages.

"So you're some sort of...bartender magician?" By now, Lando is almost used to magic. Almost.

*Dionysus considers how to word it.*

More that, where I came from, I was considered one of the gods of wine.

So magical, in a sense.

"A god? That sounds like a pretty interesting job." Lando is skeptical, and thinks this man is a magician who parlayed his skills into something more.

Not so much a job as much as a living. I was born into the position, as it were.

"I see." No, he doesn't, but that's okay. "Then can you recommend something new to to drink to me? I'm always interested in the finer things in life."

Certainly--let me get a fresh glass.

*He returns to the bar and pulls out a highball, scooping some ice into it, then making his way to Lando again. Holding the glass in one hand, he considers Lando for a moment, then pours from the flask, a dark, brown liquid cascading over ice. Filling just below the brim, he tilts the flask up. The contents of the glass stir themselves as he pockets the flask, then produces a lemon wedge in one hand, squeezing it over the glass.*

They call this an alabama slammer. A little heavier than what you're drinking, but one of my favorites.

*He sets the glass down in front of Lando.*

He places his ale aside, and takes the fresh glass, then taking a sip.

"Hm. Tasty. Tell me what's in this? What's Alabama?"

Various types of liquor--southern comfort, amaretto, sloe gin. Alabama is the name of a place on the world I come from. The drink is a popular one in that region, and spread from there.

"Sonthern Comfort is a whiskey, right. And I know gin, but I don't appreciate what you mean by slow. Amaretto is new to me." He drinks a bit more, slowly, as it's not his first drink of the day.

Sloe gin, spelled s-l-o-e, is made from the sloe berry by adding the berries to regular gin along with sugar to extract the juice from the berries. It's less strong than straight gin, and has an almond taste as a result.

"Hmmmm." Lando sips and considers. "Yes, that would be the slightly bitter taste in there. I don't think I've ever had an almond, though. My knowledge of Earth food has broadened gratly since arriving here, but i think it needs more time.

"I am Lando Calrissian, by the way."

Pleased to meet you. Dionysus, or 'nysus as many refer to me. How do you prefer to be addressed?

"Lando is find. Just don't call me General," he says with a smirk.

"How long have you been on staff here?"

*Dionysus pauses, mentally calculating.*

On and off for two years. Less often recently due to other work.

"Would I be correct in guessing that you've learned a good deal about the drinks of other worlds?"

Of a sort. It's more that I have an unconscious knowledge of it already, but am not aware of it until the time comes to serve said drink. Does that make sense?

The Force as applied to mixology? It doesn't seem likely, but then neither does magic, nor does the Force.

"It makes very little sense. But then in this place, it doesn't have to. And if I had a skill like that, I wouldn't argue with it anyway."

*Chuckling, he nods.*

I've never really thought to question it--it just kind of works.

Can I get you anything else?

"No, I think I am good. Thanks for the drink."

Enjoy--and just holler if you need anything.

*With a nod, he continues his way about the bar.*

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