Happy Hour

[gryphon_leaper]

The Bar, as is sometimes its wont, is a quietly unresponsive piece of wood-work. As happens most nights, there is someone behind it, tending. But this time differs; there is no chalkboard, nor are there pictures on offer. Instead, several amphorae have been positioned along the bar: one holds a deep, dark red wine, one unlikely to be wise to drink without being mixed with water, another a paler, almost tawny-colored wine, and a few others. All of them save the last hold some form of alcohol. The last offers only water.

The one tending the bar is a girl of perhaps fifteen, dressed in very little clothing and a great deal of jewelry. When one first achieves bull-leaper status before the Cretan crowds it tends to attract gifts, and everyone knows bull-dancers are showy and love finery. The Cretan nobles who have seen the Gryphons perform took swiftly to Thalestris, sending arm-rings and earrings and a great collar-like necklace of the sort the Egyptians wear, with the fine linen that they hang from it that's held to the body by a belt worked in gold and ivory. . If armor might be made of stuff as soft as gold she would be kitted out for battle.

The Bar made it plain she had to serve drinks this night, but gave her no more information than that.

Comments

[electro_kinetic]

That's...that's an interesting outfit. At least Noriko thinks so, as she approaches the bar with a curious look.

"Uh. Can I just get...juice?" She was going to ask for bubble tea because she's had kind of a yearning for it, but she doesn't really suspect the chick behind the counter can make it.

[gryphon_leaper]

The girl has blue hair. And here Thalestris had thought she'd seen youths and maidens in every color man was made in- well, who knows. One of Earth-shaker's other names is Blue-Haired Poseidon. Perhaps she bears that blood.

"As you like," she says. "One moment- I haven't any out just yet, but I saw a jug of the juice from apples."

[electro_kinetic]

"Sure. Apple is cool." Having been forcibly weaned from soda--mostly--she's grown out of the concept that juice is just for kids.

"Are you new here?" For the record, it's not that Thalestris is showing a lot more skin than Noriko is; she's wearing a latex-leather-bulletproof-something top that barely covers her chest, and low-riding jeans that could fall off at just about any moment.

[gryphon_leaper]

All the clothing here is very strange, and if it comes to it, the blue-haired girl is dressed more like to Thalestris' own people than the Cretans. So there is that.

"I've been here a few times now," she says, turning to root through the coldroom until the jug comes to hand. "But not so often as all that; by accident, mostly. If you had seen a great red bull with a smudge of white upon his nose at any time of late, that was my team bull, and I came with him when he tried to break away."

[electro_kinetic]

Long silence. Nori is trying to figure out whether the girl is joking with her--but it being Milliways, probably not. "A bull. Like a live...bull?"

It should go without saying--but this being Milliways, probably won't--that Noriko has not been around a whole lot of bulls. "Is it your mascot or something?"

[gryphon_leaper]

She tilts her head, thinking. Then she says, "I haven't much Greek, not enough to know that word. But I'm one of two leapers for the Gryphons, who are bull-dancers like many in the palace of King Minos. We perform in the ring as often as the Cretans require, fourteen of us and one of him."

[electro_kinetic]

She blinks.

"You...perform what, exactly?" Because she can form a mental picture of what leapers for bull-dancers do, but she isn't sure she wants to, really.

[veryvorkosigan]

A middle-aged woman seats herself on a barstool, examining the amphorae with interest.

"Okay, I give up," she says cheerfully, "what am I looking at?"

[gryphon_leaper]

"This," says Thalestris, pointing to the first one, "is the wine the Cretans get from Nemea, in Pelops' country. This is the work of their own growers, or so I am told. This one here was sealed with resin, and you can taste it; I'm told the native Cretans prefer it, though the royal house likes it less. This one, here, is a drink of my own people, made from the milk of mares allowed to ferment; should I go on? Any of these will need mixing with water, save the last one."

[veryvorkosigan]

Resinous wine; she's definitely heard of that, and tried a variation of it.

(One of the bigger ethnic minorities on Barrayar is of Greek descent.)

"Let me try that second one, please? It sounds like something I've had before."

[gryphon_leaper]

Thalestris nods, and reaches for one of the wine-cups. "As you wish," she says. "There are too many kinds of drink back here to count, and all of them in such fine bottles that I wouldn't dare handle one; but these I can manage."

[veryvorkosigan]

"Not what you're used to?"

She glances at the rows of glass bottles, and offers "If it helps, I'm pretty sure most of them are mass-produced."

[gryphon_leaper]

Thalestris frowns a little as she pours. "I'm no crafter, nor was my father," she says. "Any means of making glass is beyond me, though I've found the sort left when lightning strikes a sandy place. All I know is that there is no glass like it in Crete, only the sort they make into beads for those who haven't the money for gems. And even the false gems aren't half so clear. These are finer than carved crystal."

[vance_prime]

"...aren't you cold, dressed like that?" remarks the olive-skinned, almond-eyed woman cradling a baby in her arms.

(Sure, it's August outside, but there is air conditioning in the building proper.)

[gryphon_leaper]

"Some," admits Thalestris, "but it was colder by far in my home country. And anyway these are all that I have to wear, so one must make do."

When she yet lived with her people there were travelers with such eyes, from time to time, who might be encountered coming west with strange cloths and trade goods. But not of that coloring; that, one might find among the Assyrians or their kin.

"What can I pour for you tonight?"

[vance_prime]

The baby in her arms is even more interesting, having similar eyes and complexion but a mass of very red, very curly hair on its scalp.

"What've you got for fruit juice?" the woman asks. "I shouldn't be having any alcohol right now."

[gryphon_leaper]

Perhaps she's made some vow, or has an obligation tomorrow that she dares not miss. Such things happen, especially among harpers and the like. It's not so strange a request as all that, so Thalestris only nods and says, "The little cold-room, there, has a jug of apple juice in it that's yet to turn to wine; will that do?"

[vance_prime]

"It's called a refrigerator," the woman remarks. "And yes, that'll be fine."

The baby coos and grins a toothless grin at Thalestris.

[gryphon_leaper]

Thalestris attempts the word, but only partway and only once. It has an awkward, strange sound to it, even for Greek, and she doubts there'll be much call to use it. "Very well," she says, and fetches the jug. "Ought I to get a skin bag for the baby to drink from?"

[common_sellsword]

Bronn spots Thalestris behind the bar and walks over. He seems contented, though he casts a glance towards the spot where his door ought to be. If it had come back, that is.

"Good eve again." He doesn't smile, not one much for open smiles, but there's a small curl at the corner of his mouth.

[gryphon_leaper]

A familiar face. Thalestris inclines her head in reply. "Greeting, Bronn," she says. "It seems I've been pressed into duty this eve. How do you fare?"

[common_sellsword]

"I've fared better, but then I've fared much worse. Not enjoying the waiting all too much." He tilts his head with a small smirk. "Have you met the mysterious innkeeper, then?"

[gryphon_leaper]

"Nothing of the sort," says Thalestris, and jerks her chin towards the Bar. "This, here, is all I met; when I came today and rested a hand on it, there was a message for me, and when it was read out it said I had to serve for a time while the magic was off limits."

[common_sellsword]

Bronn looks down at the Bar with a healthy amount of mistrust. Of course, Thalestris could be lying, but with the things he has seen in his short time around Milliways, he doesn't feel too much of a skeptic.

"So the magic stops working from time to time?" It's... Interesting. Maybe a prospective loophole on those rules?

[gryphon_leaper]

"So it seems," says Thalestris. "I've never yet seen any who could get their wine from the Bar while there was a person standing behind it."