closetuniverse | (no subject)

(no subject)

Was there a bar here? Wes is going to assume there was a bar here, because he's pretty sure that's what he's leaning against right now.

"Hey, Elassar, what should-- hey, Elassar--"

Turns out he's just poking a particularly small and pointy stool.

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He gets a blank stare from the woman sitting next to the pointy stool.

"That's not Elassar, I'm gonna go ahead and let you know that. As amusing as watching you talk to a barstool is."

Wes blinks at Inyri, then turns in an exaggerated movement to peer at the stool. Huh. Yep. It's got a red seat and back, and black sticky up bits, but it's definitely not a Devaronian.

This means he can clamber up on it without awkwardness.

"Hey. Hey, 'Nyri. Get me a drink."

Edited 2016-05-15 01:42 (UTC)

Inyri groans and shakes her head. "Ugh. Pretend I whined a lot more before giving in."

She pushes a whiskey at him. "I'm just too lazy to actually fight you."

Wes snorts. "Sure, that's the first thing I'll tell people about you. "She whined a lot more before giving in. What context"

"No, I'm pretty sure that's an accurate description of me," Inyri pushes a hand through her hair and then leans on it and grins at him.

"What were you so desperate to talk to Elassar about?"

Edited 2016-05-15 20:55 (UTC)

"I heard he learnt to make great cocktails on his last mission. I just needed a drink."

"Hey, well you got one! I can also make good drinks. Whiskey...whiskey with soda...ale..."

"No, that-- that last one!"

He brightens and leans on the bar.

He falls to the floor.

He clambers up onto a bar stool, shifts until he's sitting comfortably and stably, then points at Inyri again.

"...I meant whiskey."

She stares at him for a long moment. "Please don't knock the whiskey over if I give it to you. I won't let it pay for your exuberance, Janson."

Wes holds up one finger in a wait a moment gesture, then closes his eyes.

He breathes in deeply, counting silently one ... two ... three, holds for three, then lets it out slowly. He opens his eyes again and is now totally sober.

Just kidding. But he's not wavering on his stool anymore, and his smile is less sloppy. "Would I ever let an innocent whiskey suffer?"

"I don't know. I saw you spill a drink last weekend." She squints at him for a moment. "But you did lick it off the table so I guess it wasn't abused."

Wes spreads his hands as if that's all answers answered.

"So, my whiskey?"

She rolls her eyes at him, then grabs a glass off a stack behind the bar. Inyri hands it to Wes with a flourish, and then stands up to leeeeeean over and grab a bottle of whiskey out of the well.

What??? There's not a bartender around! She'll pay for it!

Two thumbs up, and this time he doesn't fall.

He does decide it might be wise to mix the whiskey with soda after all, though, and leans over the bar to grab the soda gun.

He has no idea what soda he's just put in his whiskey, but it's delicious.

"Why is it orange?" Inyri squints at his drink. She tries to poke it, misses, and sticks her finger in it.

"Whoops--"

Edited 2016-05-27 22:46 (UTC)

"--aw, 'Nyri, c'mon..."

Wes doesn't let this stop him taking another sip of his delicious (though oddly-flavoured) drink, but he does pout.

"Now it tastes like whiskey, orange, and Inyri."

Her grin turns lecherous. "You say that like you don't like the taste of me."

His pout transforms into a grin of its own. He leans a little closer (whiskey/soda slopping over the edge of the glass to the bar).

"Yeah, but what if someone else wants the recipe and I gotta share it?"

"Mm, well, I mean if you ask nicely, maybe," Inyri leans in as well and flicks his nose.

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