Bar Tender

Log Info

• Title: Bar Tender
• Emitter: Slixvah
• Characters: Slixvah, Aelwyn, Irshya
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: September 6th 2022
• Summary: There's a new bartender in the TarRaCe! It's Slixvah! Well, not really, a human caricature of her. But it's actually her. It's a slow day at the restaurant/bathhouse, which is a perfect time for the new hire to get easy experience. She converses with the towel boy/waiter, Aelwyn, them going back and forth before Slix apologizes for being rude to him some time ago. It was seen as a challenge by Aelwyn, before it's broken up by Irshya, them two going back to their respective duties.

The TarRaCe, afternnoon.

In light of the recent news of the wights being driven back, it comes to less of a surprise that the TarRaCe tonight is...

...basically dead. There are the regulars, of course. And they help fill out the bottom line, but all the travelers and new folks are preparing to leave to go back to their homes in the country side. Hence, the TarRaCe isn't an inn. So alas, its a slow night.

There's a new, in training bartender cleaning the iron bartop with a rag, her whistling a pretty little song that sounds akin to morning birds. She's got a wreath of red hair around her shoulders, a happy smile, all clad in a set of black slacks, white button up and red suspenders.

A dark shape wanders from the direction of the bathhouse. Hand off his shoulder holding a white shirt and wafts of steam following, he could have been just any customer. The figure continues to wander - chair is pushed to its correct place, a piece of paper pushed into his black loinclothed skirt's sides. The dim figure wanders o'er the bar.

Actually it was just Aelwyn, and it was really hard not to tell it was him with his autumn colored, ruddy scales gleaming like that, with his chest exposed and shirt off the shoulder. At least he was wearing his black loincloth off the baths.

"Hmmh? A new bartender?" The Draconian rumbles with a low amusement tinging at the edges of his voice. "She is as if the morning had returned to come pass again." Tail whip behind him.

The new bartender looks up, head quirking to the side sharply as their sky blue eyes glance all over the makari. This one is an expressive sort, as her smile turns lopsided and a broad grin breaks across her face. "Well," she coos, voice a familiar silk timbre, "That's reall' sweet of ya. Totally didn't wake up like two hours ago ta fill in the shift or whatev's."

Another glance down and up. "Nice getup, looks cute on ya. I forgot ya worked here, shug," she hums, throwing the rag over her shoulder and leaning on the bartop with elbows.

Aelwyn slides forward to rest his arm on the counter as well; finger still holding onto that blouse sticking on his wet scales. Rumbling, he flexes out his quills behind his back. "She is certain she doesn't prefer the red?" He asks, tilting his head along with those red ribbons. Though he's wrapped some black ones there as well. Some of his forked tongue flicks out from between his teeth as he leans in a little closer. "Let its fire slowly engulf and warm her?"

The sith-makar's lips curl away from his lips as he lets his eyes drift along the human form, taking in all the sharp dressed clothes. "If she didn't carry the scent, it would be hard to say who is carrying the ribbon tonight." He says, "The red suspenders compliment her." A sharp claw trails in the air, indicating an imaginary line across her white shirt as he continues to grin at her.

The totally human bartender snorts and shakes her head, bending down briefly to get a glass and a bottle. "Ey, red does look good on ya, but what'cha got now is right fine," she hums, glancing down at him. "You want me ta dry that off, shug?" she offers, raising a white gloved hand.

The compliment gets another wide grin from her, and she steps back to do a twirl, showing it all of. "Thanks!" she chirps, pulling at the suspenders and letting them go with a >pop!<. The twirl ends with her catching the claw coming down. She scoffs, and a hand playfully smacks the talon out of the air. "Eyes up!"

The ruddy sith-makar glances down along his glistening body, then his eyes move back up towards her. "This one could use another toweling." Wide grin; but he hands his white shirt back over to her.

The hand retreats and Aelwyn's eyes dart back up. "Ah, how can Ribbon blame this one for imagining?" Tail coils behind him. "It is as if the red is made for her to look so perky." Wriggling his tongue at her with an amused rumble, he straightens to a stand. "No, but she is looking fine for the afternoon. First shift?" He enquiries with a hand sliding on his hip and a tilt of his head. "This one was not aware she worked here."

Slix rolls her eyes as gloved fingers >snap!<, and all the water drops off makari and shirt like it was hydrophobic. It splashes into a puddle on the ground. Her hand moves to the side, the puddle moves, and she clenches her fist. The water evaporates. "Put ya shirt on befo' others start ogglin'. Me included."

She snorts at him, popping the cork on a drink and filling up a glass. "Strain your imagination more, sugar, you already saw what's under and it ain't this," she points at him before a spectral hand slides the glass down to a patron some half dozen seats down. "Though, I don't blame you. I check myself out like this constantly."

She giggles, waving a hand as if it'd clear the air. "Thanks. First shift? Naw. Done a couple. Irshya offered me a position ta fill in the weird times, so I figured it'd be a neat thing ta learn, ya know? I can also look like /whatever/, so easy money from tips if I need it."

Aelwyn was not expecting all the moisture slip off him like that. He was not going to complain. "Gratitude, Ribbon." He rumbles - and makes an excessive display of stretching out his muscular dancer's body and sliding his toned arms into his shirt. And leaving the buttons open.

Gingerly stepping towards the counter, he roughly snaps his teeth at her. "This one thinks she is giving plenty to strain. Tips and otherwise." Reaching around the bartop to fetch a glass for himself, he rolls the empty thing in his hands. "Not that this one is complaining."

Tipping his head around the TarRaCe, he then returns his orange gaze back towards her. "It is quiet here now. Hmmh, it is a good thing a city always has need for an able body."

Slixvah gives him a finger gun as a 'you're welcome', though she takes her payment in a few non-sly glances before nodding in approval to herself. At least the shirt was on. She laughs. "Hon, a stiff breeze could strain you," she teases.

The bartender leans back on a foot and gestures to the drink selection. "Want somethin'?" she inquires before glancing about. "Yeah, honestly, the quiet is nice. Prolly would be a bit overwhelmed workin' if it was busy busy, but I work at a coffee shop too during university hours, so..." she shrugs.

"Only if the breeze was singing as pretty as her." Aelwyn rumbles at her with a grin, tail moving behind him. Tilting his glass this way and that, he asks, "Too much? Too little? Perhaps this one is garnishing her with too many pretty words to leave no room for this one's ribbon," He adds in amusement.

Taking in a deep breath then and a roll of his shoulders, he nods his head. "Not mead." He asks, "The honey here is too violent on the tongue." Holding out his glass for her, he tilts his head. "Would have thought someone such as her would easily find coin for her abilities," He wonders, "Unless she is disguising the taste of that coffee."

Slixvah snorts, grabbing the empty glass he's flaunting about and sticking it under a small cask of ale. "A teeny tiny too much," she hums, flipping the stopper. "Your words are sweet but too many of them makes everything taste sweet, and dulls the senses. Ya dig?"

A brow raises about the comment of honey, the glass filled as she hands it over to him. "Aight. You allergic to honey or somethin'?" she asks, curious before she shakes her head. "Naw, I gots coin, boo."

She leans on the bartop with an arm, a finger raised as she elucidates with a grin. "The reason is people. I get to talk to a /lot/ of people, so I learn all sorts of juicy gossip and info. It's great."

Aelwyn tchs, "This one cannot help but to engorge himself sometimes." The sith-makar rumbles as he takes the glass. "Though reflecting back, perhaps Ribbon's is correct about not dulling one's sense." He gives a sideways glance towards Slixvah; the mirth on his eyes momentarily gone.

Twisting his face in actual look of displeasure, he shakes his head and gestures vaguely. "A job at the apiery, it was... Hmmh. This one does not wish to know more about how honey is made. Especially where it is made."

Her explanation makes Aelwyn opens his mouth and click his teeth in a quiet 'ah'. "Naturally. Ribbon seems to have her finger on the pulse." He takes a sip from his drink, as he leans back against the bartop. "This one supposes the drink is an easy grease for conversation."

Slixvah catches the glance, and she just shrugs. "I'm just telling it to ya straight, hon," she hums, resting her thumbs in her suspenders. "But ya words are appreciated nonetheless." She's genuine.

She tilts her head at that, then makes a clicking sound in her throat. "Ah. I heard about that. Real buzz that one, heard it was a swarm of a mess, yeah?" she giggles. "Least ya got out okay."

She snaps a finger. "Bingo. I gotta keep a pulse on stuff so I know what's goin' on next. And where I can learn mo' 'bout stuff happenin. The Arcanists' Society sucks for me for some info, so I gotta rely on the layman."

Her eyes soften, and she glances off to the side. "... it is easy grease, yeah. I, uh..." She rubs her arm. "Want to apologize properly. Never got a true chance, and when I did we weren't really lucid. Which then turned into..." she rolls a hand. "... whatever that tangled hangover was." A soft sigh, and she affixes him with her sky blue gaze. "So, m'sorry 'bout rakin' ya over the coals. I regret it."

Aelwyn shakes his head, "She has been waiting to buzz on those words, has she not?" The ruddy sith-makar rumbles, clearly not as amused by the bee-play. Another sip from his drink is given, and he idly begins to actually button up his shirt some. Some. Few buttons are closed with mercy. "Hmmh, this one supposes one cannot hear much from the sound of those books."

The ruddy fingers continue to fiddle with the buttons, as he listens to her words with a tilt of his head; though not looking at her. Finally, he turns around to face her. Orange eyes fixate upon those blue eyes, his expression unreadable - as much as that counted for a sith-makar.

A moment or two passes - and then a hand snaps out over his drink followed by a sharp 'fwoomh' and a gust of flames. The ruddy Dragoon swoops up the lit drink and swallows the contents, fire and all, before turning back at her.

Grinning, the little flames kick out from between his teeth. "For what, Ribbon?"

The glass, along with a match and a tiny broken vial, is knocked over the bartop. Even more so, the Dragoon's hand reaches out to pull her closer towards his flame kissed face. "Sometimes someone needs to speak the words that light a fire."

Slixvah giggles. "Maybe just a little bee-t of wordplay," she coos, somewhat surprised that he was getting his uniform together.

The silence is expected, as well as the unreadable nature of sith-makar. It wasn't her first time around this, after all. Instead of growing awkward, she just idly searches his face. Expression lax, soft.

Which is flipped to complete surprise as she jumps a bit at the flames suddenly there. How did he do tha- oh, glass shatters, and she glances down. That's how-

And again, she makes a squeak of surprise as she's grabbed and brought closer. His hand passes through the button up shirt and grabs robes. It's all an illusion after all. She's pulled up close over the bar. Her face tinges red. Slix gulps. "I... Uh... w-well I'm glad my words... helped?" she stumbles over herself in a stutter.

A breath cycles through her, and she recomposes. A hand reaches up to rest on his hand. "At least you got a bright fire."

Which, said gloved hand slips off and pushes him away via the smushed snout playfully as she laughs. "Too much!" she grins. "We can chat more 'bout that later. We got work ta do, yeah?"

"Is this fraternization between employees?", a little voice wonders.

The Gobbo, dressed in a white robe, stands in the entrance leading to the baths. Her arms are crossed in front of her, and her expression is one of amusement, bemusement... and there's an expectation of... gossip.

Irshya moves closer, little wet footprints following along behind her. She pauses at Aelwyn's side, and a hand swats at his side. "Stop wooing all the ladies here.", she says, grinning toothily at the ruddy-scale Sith.

Those orange slit pupils seemed to pick up a fire of their own as the flames flutter around his lips and even nostrils; grin widening he slowly opens up his mouth - and he is booped and the fire is 'swallowed'. Rumbling, the Dragoon snaps his teeth at her, with his nostrils smoking. "Hmmh, but this one quite likes being raked on hot coals." Aelwyn says as he leans back onto the bartop, tail swaying behind him. Work? What was work? "Perhaps this one could - " Swat. Straightening in an instant, he looks down at the sharp toothed gobbo, and he holds up his hands in defense.

"This one would never, Boss." The draconian says in his defense. "Only the ones that deserve a bit of fire." Tail moves behind him, but he rolls his head towards Slixvah, and then back at Irshya. "This one will check the towels in the baths." A coin left on the bartop, he begins to slowly sidle back towards the baths, tail swaying behind him.

Slixvah stands up straight as she hears the little voice, a hand under the bar gesturing incantations to sweep the glass away with a spectral hand. "Totally not!" she chirps to Irshya. "Yeah, Aelwyn, stop wooing all the ladies, save some for me!" Slix points out, grinning, her human guise expressive and bright.

She looks to Aelwyn, and playfully rolls her eyes. "Of course you do. I need to get a spray bottle back here ta spritz you and your fire. Have fun with the towels!"

A sigh leaves her, and she looks down over the bar. "Hey! I'm here!" she smiles. "So, boss, wanna show me where ya keep the reserves? We almost outta tha mead."

Irshya pffffffts at length. "My ass you wouldn't ever...", she says, her expression plainly clear that she doesn't buy it for even a second. She nods to the Sith as he saunters off.

Her head cants slightly at Slixvah, her expression mirthful. "It sounded awfully like you were enjoying the attention.", the Gobbo says with a snort. "Be careful encouraging him. Feathers are awfully flammable. Also, watch yourself on the glass, hmm? As for the reserves..."

The Gobbo comes 'round behind the bar, and shifts what appears to be an empty barrel aside, revealing a trapdoor. "So there's a little ladder. If yer strong enough, you can heft them up. If not, there's a pully and rope. Tie up the barrel, toss the rope up, use the pully... "She gestures to the roof above, where a pully awaits a rope... "And pull 'em up."

Slixvah giggles behind a hand. "A little bit of enjoyment, yeah, but I wasn't joking about tha spray bottle. That man is a bit much at times. Which I told him as such."

She blinks at the empty barrel, peering over Irshya as the gobbo reveals the trapdoor. A hand reaches over, and pulls the trapdoor open. "Oooooh, clever!" she hums, looking up high and down below to gauge the distance. "Thanks!"

The human Slixvah grins. Piercing whatever veil that keeps her disguise together, a feather pokes out from behind her. It unravels, animating and continuing to unroll as it falls down the trap door. She sticks her tongue out, patting around with the really, really long feather. "Where is... ah! There!"

All on its own, the small keg is lifted up and out, the feather wrapping it up to secure it. "Oh this is gonna be a fun, fun job."

-End Scene-