happy hour

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee comes downstairs looking like the opposite of what he'd looked like to anyone who'd seen him last.

That is, he looks like himself. And more importantly, in the bigger scheme of things, he feels like himself.

Clad in his usual repurposed tuxedo trousers and suspenders, a white sleeveless undershirt, and grungy boots, he's also made the effort to put on makeup. Smoky blue eyeshadow, crimson lipstick. Because this is who he is.

When he reaches the Bar, he receives a note from Sinric saying a fond farewell. And he also receives a note from Bar herself, saying that he has bartending duty now. Never one to shirk a bartending shift, he takes a moment to ask for a few items before agreeing and lets her have her nap.

He sets up an iThing music player on the back shelf to play a collection of electro swing, beginning with a little ditty called Star Wars - Cantina Band. Emcee has no idea who or what this is but it's catchy, and he bops in place as he writes the specials on the board.

Happy Hour Specials
Cocktails:
Gin Rickey
French 75
Sidecar
Bee's Knees
Corpse Reviver
Hanky Panky

With that done, he pours himself a glass of cherry schnapps and snacks on Belgian fries from a huge bowl, enough to share with anyone who comes by.

[tiny tags: cassian andor, baze malbus, chirrut imwe, mary of guelders]

Comments

[cottoncandypink]

Hey, Wilford knows that song. It's enough to get him to come see what else is going on over here today.

He looks quite a bit different than he did the last time he saw Emcee. He's about 15 years younger than he should be, and with his age, he's also lost the prizefighter physique. The Wilford that walks up to the bar is a weedy little thing with a mohawk. But it's still obviously Wilford, unless pink moustaches are suddenly becoming fashionable.

His equally scrawny dog is with him, and they both stop to see if anything interests them.

"Is that Noize Tank?" Wilford asks, nodding at the iDevice.

[ooc: I need to disappear for a while to film a video, but I couldn't resist!]

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is in mid-sip of his own drink when a seemingly much younger, slimmer Wilford approaches. It is Wilford, isn't it? How many pink-mustached men can there be?

At his question, Emcee blinks, and turns to peer at the device's screen.

"Why, yes, it is indeed Noize Tank," he replies with a genial smile. "I suppose you would know, since you recommended the genre to me."

His smile then immediately turns a little uncertain. Should he have said that so soon? After the whole identity fiasco, he's unsure if they even know each other.

[cottoncandypink]

"Everyone's done a remix of this song. They all blend together after a while."

He doesn't deny recommending the genre, though. So it's probably safe to assume that he did. Wilford starts to order, but his dog finds something he wants first - Emcee's fries, and starts climbing up onto the bar to get a better sniff at them.

"What the hell is this?" Wilford asks him. The dog stops mid-climb, gives Wilford a vaguely-guilty look, and slowly back down to the floor.

"You got any tuna back there?" the asks.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is about to inquire further when the dog begins his determined ascent to get to the fries. He's not certain that dogs should eat fried potatoes, but Wilford stops the pitiful looking creature from indulging.

"--Tuna? Um, yes, I think. Let me see."

He opens some cabinets in the back, searching for canned foods. While he looks, he asks, "Your dog prefers fish like a cat?"

[iprotectyou]

Baze takes in the man behind the bar with a modicum of surprise, not least because how he's dressed, but also because Baze has never seen a bartender here. Why would a magic bar require a tender, Baze wants to know.

So he strides up to the counter with the biggest, most joyful grin on his face. "Are you the official bartender? I didn't know the bar had one," he says, settling his large, armored bulk onto a barstool. He skims the cocktail menu, and then realizes, hey, he really has heard this song. Weird!

(OOC: Chirrut will wander by later, if that's okay!)

[i_am_your_host]

Oh! What a large man, indeed! The equally large grin is infectious, and Emcee can't help but return it.

"Official bartender? No, my good sir, I am merely a substitute selected at random by Madame Bar herself when she needs to rest. Such is the custom at Milliways. So, I am your server today. I may not be able to reproduce beverages with magical speed and precision, but I will do my utmost best."

[ooc: perfectly okay!]

[iprotectyou]

The bartender's Berliner dialect is intriguing. Baze has heard scads of accents hosting pilgrims at the temple, but none quite like this man's.

"Resting? Well, that does make sense! Even magic nerds a rest sometime," Baze says, planting his massive elbows on the counter and leaning forward to better confer with the man behind the bar. "Do you have tea? Any kind will do, I'm looking to try new things. I'm Baze Malbus, by the way."

He cocks his head, a curious expression on his face, as he tries to place the music. "That song... It's by Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes, right?"

[onceaviking]

Later, a vampire shows up. Hovering a little ways away.

Last time he'd seen Emcee he'd been -

It had been unsetteling.

[i_am_your_host]

It's difficult to miss Eric when he's in the room when one has a wandering eye.

"Darling," Emcee murmurs on a surprised exhalation of breath, having been anxious to see him again. He leans over the bar, beckoning to him.

"Don't worry, it's me."

[onceaviking]

Eric walks a little closer, looking skeptical.

"You sure?"

[witchfinder_general]

"Good evening," Father Harman says. "Would I shock you terribly if I ordered a Corpse Reviver?"

He smiles at the Emcee, clearly in good spirits.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee chirps out a short laugh.

"Only somewhat. A Corpse Reviver is a cure for a hangover, and you don't seem to be suffering from one. In fact it might give you one, but if you're feeling adventurous tonight, I can certainly whip up a glass," he says, reaching for the bandy and cognac.

[witchfinder_general]

"I picked it purely for the name," Harman admits. "It seems playfully blasphemous to have a drink like that in Easter week."

[childofrebellion]

Cassian's been resting at the counter, its easier to keep his arm in a better position without questions that way and work on his datapad. Also he's plotting some openings to go after when Emcee sets up, when the music starts he frowns, "What's the music? I think I've heard it before."

It has that odd bounce that cantinas on Hutt run planets seem to like, the man doesn't look at all like he's from his world.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee turns to the man (appraising him with a quick flick of his eyelashes) as he indeed continues to bounce a little in time to the beat.

"This song?" he says, peering at the music player's display screen. "It appears to be a Noize Tank remix. It's catchy, don't you think? Where have you heard it?"

[childofrebellion]

He's in his Captain's jacket, his left sleeve is a little larger with the bacta on it,

"Not exactly it but something like it in a cantina on the Outer Rim."

This bartender looks like he would fit into the better class of cantina nearer the Core.

[idareyou]

There's a very young woman--fifteen, sixteen--in a very pretty medieval dress with fur trim, staring with very open delight at Emcee and his outfit and the music and the fries and the all of it. She bounces up to the bar as soon as he looks her way, and ask, "What should I have?"

(She's asking in French, but a cosmopolitan like Emcee will catch an accent. Dutch? German?)

[i_am_your_host]

Well, who's a pretty princess? She is!

Emcee beams at her with nearly mirrored enthusiasm, and a little bemusement as well, because it's not often that he gets to serve a medieval teenage girl. Like, never, really.

"That depends, my dear," he replies, also in French, allowing his own German accent to filter through in case she'd like to hear something oddly familiar at the end of the universe. "Do you like your drinks sweet? Sour? Or bitter?"

[idareyou]

"Sweet," she says decisively. Because yes she is a pretty princess. (Well, a pretty queen, technically, but eh.) "Sweet, please, and not very strong, but not too weak either."

Now that she's closer Mary can really admire his eyeshadow. Oooooh!

[sunbaked_baker]

Please forgive Sunshine. It's hard not to bop along with that music. And seeing Emcee look like himself again is more than enough to bring a smile to her face and lighten her step.

"Hey you," she greets him as she takes a bar stool and leans her elbows on it, grinning brightly. "Is 'Bee's Knees' any good? Is it the bee's knees?"

[i_am_your_host]

"Sunshine, darling!" he beams, happy to see her as he throws up his hands in a theatrical gesture of welcome. "Oh, it is indeed the bee's knees, and the cat's meow. Would you like a glass?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oooh, yes please!"

Whoops, nope, can't help it, not with that smile - Sunshine chuckles and gets down again, coming around the end of the bar to offer Emcee and his joy a massive hug. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"

She had missed his smile so much.

[is_the_motion]

Bonnie places Billie on the bar next to the huge bowl of fries. Billie takes one with a small look of suspicion, then gums it.

"Hey honey." Bonnie says, grinning at Emcee.

[i_am_your_host]

"Hallo, Bonnie," Emcee croons warmly, eyeing the child with surprise. "My, how she's grown since I last saw her! How old is she now?"

[is_the_motion]

"Nine and a half months." Bonnie says, stopping Billie from putting the fry back in the bowl. "Sorta crawlin' now."