milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Puck does not stagger downstairs. He ambles. There is a difference.

He also is not wearing a shirt.

He also has a bottle of absinthe drawn on his back.

The fae ambles over to the bar and drops his head onto the countertop.

Oddly enough, he may have had a few absinthe hallucinations last night.

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Puck glances up at him.

"Oh, is it?" he mumbles. "I am so glad. It was in doubt."

Mercutio raises his eyebrows.

"Bitten by he demon drink?"

The corners of his mouth curl.

The fairy snorts.

"Oh, you haven't any idea."

"Oh, I certainly do."

Mercutio slides onto a bar stool next to Puck and pats his head.

"What was the occasion?"

With a little effort, he raises himself up on his elbows into a more upright sitting position.

"Spin the bottle, it's called," he says with a grin.

That's how it began, anyway.

"And what happens when you spin this bottle?"

He looks curious.

"When you spin the bottle, my dear sir," the fae replies, "you are under oath to kiss whomever it points at."

"It sounds like my kind of entertainment."

Mercutio grins.

"No doubt," he says with a fainter version of the grin. "Whyever didn't you appear?"

"I had no notion such fine entertainments were provided."

He looks mournful.

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