milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Alex has a rucksack full of books and is entirely prepared to spend a few hours at Milliways working on homework so he has plenty of time to play football later. (Yeah, Milliways is weird, but he's not stupid; he's been offered a godsend to his free time, and he'll take it.) But he swings by the bar first to get a snack, and instead receives a note politely requesting that he tend the bar.

He stares at it. "You do know I'm only fourteen?"

Yes, the note informs him, it is aware of that.

Alex sighs and hops behind the bar, getting the idea of the layout before he attacks the specials board.

HAPPY HOUR SPECIALS
Milkshakes
(bartender is not qualified to serve alcohol)

Help the bartender with his coursework and get 2/3 off anything.

With that sorted, Alex settles behind the bar with a bag of crisps and a notebook to get in a little work in between customers.

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The Prince is playing 'the floor is made of lava'. He's been playing it for hours.

Which is why he just kind of hangs upside down from the rafters, peering at Alex with wide, innocent blue eyes.

"Can I just get the alcohol myself?" Beat. "I'll get you some too."

Alex glances around for a moment before thinking to look up.

"Um," he says, "I don't think that's allowed."

"Pfft. Who cares? You look old enough to drink," the Prince remarks, "and I definitely am."

Alex sighs. "What would you like?"

Better to get this over with, he figures.

"Alcohol," the Prince said helpfully, "two glasses."

Alex, after a bit of digging about behind the bar, pulls out something that looks especially fruity and not very alcoholic, which he pours into two glasses.

Enjoy.

The Prince does what can only be described as a somersault onto the Bar, landing in a crouching position. The Bar, after all, is not made of lava.

He nudges a glass over to Alex with a foot and picks up his own, drinking some of it with a thoughtful expression.

"Are you sure this is alcohol, kid?"

"Yes," he says, confidently.

He is not at all sure, but this is what you get for annoying the bartender. He firmly ignores his glass.

"Do you have any spiced mead I could add to this?" The Prince asks. "I mean, I'm just asking."

He nudges the glass again. "Drink up."

"She lets me serve alcohol," says a boy close to the same age, if rather huge. Also, he's... yeah. "I can't drink it, though, so I guess that's okay."

...Well. All right. Alex will roll with it, because he is an open-minded individual who has already discussed people-eating mermaids.

"I wouldn't really know what I was doing."

"I just follow the recipes in the book. If someone asks for 'something with vodka in it' or whatever, I close my eyes and flip. It's their own crashing fault."

He makes a note of 'crashing' and wonders since when that turned into an expletive, but all right. "Where's the book?"

Enzo leans over the bar to see what he may see.

"...over there," he says, pointing.

"Thanks."

He flips through it, thoughtfully, and pauses at a particularly weird-looking one. "'Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster'?"

"Dunno that one. What's in it?"

He flips through. "Ol' Janx Spirit... Water from Santraginus V... Arcturan Mega-gin... Fallian marsh gas?"

Alex suspects this wasn't created for human consumption.

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a1enzo - 2011-07-08 01:29 (UTC) - Expand

"Milkshakes," the short, stocky woman in the flightsuit says, a trifle blankly.

Beat.

Milk, sadly, is not one Trudy's favourite things in the world.

"Mind whippin' up an apple juice?"

Mmm, fruit.

Alex deeply appreciates not being dragged into an ill-advised game of 'Never Have I Ever'. Thank you, Trudy.

"'Course not." It just takes some poking around in back of the bar for the right bottle.

...

This may take a minute.

She can wait.

Although she might, after two minutes, go, "First time Bar's dragged you behind there?"

"And only my third time in the bar," he answers, ruefully. Best to get some sympathy points so she doesn't get too tetchy about how long her drink's taking.

Aha! He does find apple juice, though, and proudly pours it into a glass for her.

"Oh, yeah, you're a baby here." And in general - she's old enough to be his mother. "I've been knockin' around here for....over a year Bar-time, bit more in by my world's time." Then she grins.

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

He's not overly enthused about being referred to as a baby, but he'll kindly ignore it for now. "I'm Alex."

"Trudy. So, what's your where and when, Alex?"

...Huh. That's the first time he's heard that greeting, but thankfully, it's easy to figure out. "Chelsea, London, 2009. You?"