Happy Hour

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal comes down to the main bar area around six o'clock. It's empty at the moment, but that's to be expected this early in the evening. Going behind the bar, he grabs the blackboard and a stick of white chalk, and writes out the specials list for tonight.

Happy Hour Bartender's Specials

From the 41st Millennium:

Groxburgers
Amasec
Recaf

From the Bar Menu:

Chicken Tikka Masala
Spaghetti Carbonara
Victorian Lemonade
White Russian Cocktails

- 40% off all beer and ale
- Two for one on all pizzas
- Sides half-price when ordered with a main meal

With that done, he hangs the board up, shakes the chalk dust from his hands and takes his place behind the bar.

Comments

[shakemyhand]

Guide slides onto a stool with just the slight whisper of leather on vinyl. He looks at the chalk board rolling his eyes at the unreadable script. Well, unreadable to him, he can't read English.

A soft hiss escapes his lips at the thought of eating.... but was it not enjoyable to him not so long ago?

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal smiles at the sight of his friend and follows Guide's eyes to the board.

"Hello, Guide, nice to see you. Anything there that you might like?"

He's slightly put off by the hiss, but Guide is an alien, it probably doesn't mean the same for him as it does for humans.

[shakemyhand]

"No," he says aloud, " It would provide me no nourishment. I require a small amount of cold water."

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Aliens. What are you going to do? Sahaal grabs a lowball glass from the cupboard and fills it up with cold tap water. He adds a few ice cubes, and slides it across the wooden counter.

"There you go. So, how have you been?"

[shakemyhand]

Guide hisses. The war was going badly for his people.

"Not well," says Guide finally.

[cottoncandypink]

When Wilford comes in today, he's almost too busy trying to keep his dog from jumping all over him to notice the board.

Almost.

When it catches his eye, he pauses to make sure that he's not having a stroke. Meanwhile, Buster manages to knock over a glass someone left sitting on the bar.

"What in the hell is that supposed to be?" Wilford asks.

[ooc: may be slow or randomly vanishing due to work]

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal winces when the dog knocks over the glass, because let's face it, that's going on his tab. He's a little confused about what the man with the large mustache means, so he asks.

"What is what supposed to be?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford notices the glass shatter, and assumes it's going to be coming out of the dog's tab. It's such a minor thing to have to pay for, he barely gives it more than a passing glance before looking back up at the specials board.

Nope, the first half is still completely nonsense.

"They forget how to speak English in the 41st century?" he asks.

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal rolls his eyes, and decides not to correct him about the date.

"No, we didn't, we just call it Low Gothic. I know it's strange, but many universes have different dishes. Don't worry, these are all human."

[cottoncandypink]

"Huh."

Wilford isn't quite feeling daring enough to risk trying something from so far into the future, the concept of 'human' has probably become quite far removed from what it is as Wilford knows it.

"Jack and Coke. And an egg."

He ignores Buster, as he continues to hop and dance around in circles. He'll get bored or distracted eventually.

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Alright then."

Sahaal grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar, and pours a measure into a glass. Then, he adds in half a mixer bottle of Coke, a few ice cubes and slides it across the counter.

"How do you want the egg?"

[cottoncandypink]

Well, at least they can still mix drinks in the absurdly distant future. That's a promising sign.

"Fresh out of the carton."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee, dressed in a white undershirt and cropped black trousers, comes downstairs with the intention to get a drink and perhaps a quick meal to take back to his room, when he sees the rather imposing figure behind the bar. He stops short for a moment, anxiety edging in on him, but he tries to move past the irrationality. It hasn't been easy these last few weeks in self-imposed isolation.

He steps up to the bar, pale, slender fingers curled around the edge of the counter. Dark eyes lined with dark makeup, ink-black hair, almost feminine lips.

"Good evening," he greets the stranger in a velvety German accent. "I am not familiar with the specials from the 41st Millennium. What are they?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal looks this new patron up and down. The outfit is normal enough, but the makeup is a little odd. Probably a performer of some sort, or a nobleman. It's no matter to him, he's seen much stranger in his time.

He points to each special in turn as he explains them. "The groxburger is arranged like a standard American cheeseburger, but with a grox-meat patty. It tastes sort like a mixture between beef and chicken, or so I'm told. Amasec is an alcoholic fruit brandy, and recaf is like the Earth coffee, but slightly richer and with more caffeine."

[i_am_your_host]

That sounds far less strange than Emcee expected.

"Oh, well, I do like to try new things at least once," he says agreeably (despite his less-than-enthused first encounter with avocado). "If it isn't too much trouble, then, I would like a groxburger and a glass of Amasec, please."

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Alright then. The groxburger will take a little while on the grille, but the amasec is coming right up."

Sahaal grabs the bottle of Jourian 945:M41 under the bar and pours out a couple of fingers into a glass, then places it on the coaster in front of this new patron.

"So, who are you?"

[i_am_your_host]

"Thank you," he murmurs demurely, as he settles on a barstool to wait for the groxburger. Lifting the glass, he sniffs it delicately before taking a sip. It's strong, but flavorful, and he likes it.

"Who am I?"

The phrase seems to make him smile just a tiny bit with one corner of his mouth. There was a time where he could reply I am the Master of Ceremonies, but not anymore. He's drawing a blank on who he is right now.

"Call me Emcee," he replies instead, that faint smile still on his lips. He offers a slender hand to shake, perhaps bravely on his part. "And you are...?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Emcee, huh? Well, it's an unusual name, but it's not like someone named Zso Sahaal can talk. Besides, this is Milliways. You can be whoever you want here. He takes the hand offered, and shakes it lightly, to avoid crushing any bones.

"I'm Sahaal. Nice to meet you."

[i_am_your_host]

"A pleasure to meet you, Sahaal. So, should I inquire as to what exactly a grox is, or should I remain blissfully unaware?"

[childofrebellion]

One more trip and then he'll meet with Kay, Cassian's stretching when he enters and smiles to see Milliways.

He heads to the counter and nods to Sahaal as he looks over the choices, "What's filling and spicy to eat? What's recaf?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Hey, Cassian. Recaf is like Earth coffee, but with more caffeine and a richer taste, and if you want something spicy, I can make a chorizo and chilli pizza. That's pretty filling."

[childofrebellion]

"I'll try the recaf, I've got a long trip ahead of me. Chorizo, I've read about that in a cookbook, I'll try it too. How are you doing?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

Sahaal reaches for the recaf pot and pours some of the black, steaming liquid into a ceramic mug emblazoned with the words 'Milliways Bar - Do Not Steal'. He hands it to Cassian, handle first.

"I've fine, thanks. Met some new people, done a couple of arms deals, bingewatched Elementary. You?"

[childofrebellion]

He takes a sip of the recaf with a nod, Sahaal doing arms deals makes sense, he's curious about the details, "Did the deals work out how you hoped? What's Elementary?"

[exiled_heir_of_the_eighth]

"Oh, definitely. I sold two people in my home universe a music player for several crates of ammunition."

Sahaal starts cooking the chorizo in a large pan on the bar's stove.

"It's an adaptation of the Sherlock Holmes stories, mostly murder mysteries. I really like it, even if it's not usually my sort of thing."