Viking Happy Hour!

[bigarmy_strangepants]

When Ragnar walks up to the bar tonight, a little yellow napkin pops up.

"I can't read your writing!" he protests.

Another napkin pops up, this time with a drawing on it.

"I can pour mead," Ragnar concedes. He jumps over the bar, and goes find what he needs.

He sets up a jug of mead and a number of horn cups for whoever wants a drink.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan does a double-take as he approaches the Bar, not having expected a happy hour and definitely not run by Ragnar.

"So it was your turn today?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I think so," Ragnar says, showing Athelstan the napkin he got.

There's a figure on it, with a long braid, pouring something from a bottle into a cup or mug.

"By the way, what year do we live in?"

[athelstanthescribe]

He laughs. "There, I told you she could communicate in drawings. What year? It's... 794 by now, I think."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"794 years since what, actually?" Ragnar asks.

He pours Athelstan a cup of mead, and one for himself, as he's at it.

"Here you are."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Since the birth of Christ on Earth." He accepts the cup. "Thank you."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"If anybody asks for something in a bottle I don't know, I'll have to ask you," Ragnar says.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Then I'll stick close by until your shift ends", he promises. "Your helper as ever."

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam comes downstairs. Her hair is pulled up and back, her makeup subdued in pinks and lavenders. She's wearing a black leather jacket, tight jeans, and stiletto pumps (unlike Eric, she keeps a more varied wardrobe in her room here at Milliways, so the track suit was put aside very quickly).

She approaches the bar with a confident stride when she notices the distinctive looking man behind it. And the not-monk is with him. They seem pretty chummy.

"Hello," she says, glancing from one to the other, her hand on her hip. "Is this a joint venture?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Athelstan can read what's written on the bottles," Ragnar says. "And I'm entrusted with pouring the drinks. What can we get you?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"Hello, Pam", Athelstan says, not unfriendly but a little... cautious. "May I introduce Ragnar Lothbrok?"

[lazy_but_loyal]

At the equally distinctive name, Pam turns to Ragnar, looking him up and down with a suddenly very interested gaze.

"Oh, so you're the Viking."

There's an almost-smile on her lips.

Ragnar's eyes are very blue.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"So Athelstan has talked about me," Ragnar says, smiling. "Nice to know."

[athelstanthescribe]

"And why would I not?" he wants to know. "You are my Earl."

[lt_blade]

The visit to England did actually do her some good. Sonya still bore some unease in her manner, but she's feeling a little better.

She originally came down for a bite of something to eat (turns out going to sleep on an empty stomach was a trigger for her), when she saw someone behind the bar. This usually meant happy hour and happy hour meant Bar was asleep-wait rat service it was.

Then she saw who it was by the bar, and found herself still drawn over. When Athelstan took her to Upsala, she made an effort to keep away from his family so as to not have to answer questions, but she stuck by close enough to recognize the man behind the bar.

"Evening." She hoped on the barstool. "You look familiar."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I hope that's a good thing, and won't earn me a slapped face," Ragnar says, grinning widely. "Do you want a drink?"

[lt_blade]

"In this instance, you're safe." She looked over at Athelstan. "He let me go with him to Upsala and I recognize you from there. Name's Sonya."

She turned to order a BLT from a waitrat before facing Ragnar. "A drink would be fine." She just wanted something to eat as well.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar pours her a horn cup of mead. "Seems that a number of people here wanted to celebrate with the fabled Vikings. I hope we didn't disappoint?"

[lt_blade]

"You guys are pretty legendary. I told Athelstan, if you took out the ceremony and sacrifice, it just reminded me of some of the backyard parties we had when I was younger." When she allowed herself to enjoy them.

She took the cup. Having never had mead before, she took a cautious sip, the taste taking her back. "Tastes almost like sweet and sour pickles with alcohol." The taste wasn't bad, but it wasn't something she was used to.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Without the ceremony and sacrifice, it wouldn't be a blôt," Ragnar says. "It's about the gods, after all."

[the_cupbearer]

"Oh, it's been a long time since I've drunk anything out of a horn cup," says Ganymede; he's dressed in breezy white and faded jeans, with henna patterned over one pectoral and all the way down his shoulder and arm.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Then you will get mead from a horn cup today once again," Ragnar says, smiling at the young southerner. Something about him reminds him of the Frankish merchant about whom Athelstan admitted that he'd brought him from here.

He pours him a cup, and pushes it over.

"Skol!"

He drinks from his own.

[the_cupbearer]

There's something rougher around the edges about Ganymede; he's not as fine, not as polished as Dorian, a little more wild. It's with that knowledge that he takes the horn with a tilt of his head and a grin that bares his eyeteeth.

"Skol," he replies, fluent with the tongue no matter how long it's been since he heard it, and downs the cup before dragging his teeth over his lips.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"You have had that before," Ragnar grins. "If it's so long, then I guess you haven't come to Uppsala with Athelstan?"

[the_cupbearer]

"I have indeed had it before, but no, I haven't been to Uppsala in a long, long while." Ganymede smiles at the man and slides the horn cup back to him, appearing for all the world as harmless as a kitten in that moment.

"Do you find it so interesting that I have had your drink before?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"To judge from the patron he brought to Uppsala," Ragnar says, "it's really unusual in the future. He was pretending to be a Frankish merchant and completely fascinated by the fact he was drinking mead. He found the entire blôt something of a big party -- which it is, but it's more than that, too. His awe was entirely positive, and mead played a large part in it."