genessia | It's not a date

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It's not a date

WHO: Bartolomeo and Dorian
WHAT: A tour of alcoholic delights was promised and by god that's a promise we're keeping
WHEN: Probably this week
WHERE: some generic bar in Genessia City and then moving onward
WARNINGS: Barty being gross and Dorian being a flirt? Booze and drunkenness should go without saying.

[The actual heat wave was a while ago, now, but Bartolomeo had never forgotten his long late-night chat with Dorian about sampling everything booze-like this shitty place could offer. Even if they couldn't find samples of wines from back home to show off, there were plenty of other varieties to taste-test. A quick text to Dorian to pick a night to have some fun, and it was set.

Bartolomeo has given his thugs the night off and wandered over from Fayren, glad that things are still summer-like enough after a cool spell - the perfect night for a pub crawl. Seven feet tall and still wearing his feather-trimmed jacket, he shows up outside the bar and flips off the bouncer with a grin as he saunters in, looking for his "date." This should be fun, at last!]

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[It's not the first place Dorian would have picked, but with their plans being so minimal, he wasn't picky. He'd traded his usual leathers and robes for a billowy shirt and pants, soft leather boots, and more jewelry than usual. He'd call it casual. His hair was styled the same, and his mustache perfect as usual. He'd been closer to the bar and showed up first, opting for the bar as a good spot to wait for the wayward captain than a shadowy corner, though the irony of it hadn't been lost on him.

Bartolomeo wasn't hard to spot when he strode in, though Dorian really hadn't been expecting the height and he had a momentary pang of sadness she shook away quickly as he gave a way in the captain's direction. At just under 6 feet, Bartolomeo towered over him.]

You're lucky I like you, Captain. I'm not typically a patient man.

[If Bartolomeo's height bothered the mage, he didn't show it.]

[don't worry Dorian, he's used to it. It's not even average back home, he always sticks out.

Bartolomeo grinned widely as he spotted his companion for the night and headed right over, dropping onto the stool next to him]

Yeah, yeah, sorry 'bout that. I always forget how long it takes to get through the gateways. You ordered yet?

[The bartender conveniently wandered their way at that moment, gave them an uncertain look, and tried to slip past unnoticed. No such luck.]

Yo! Something fruity, I wanna start out slow if we're gonna be at this all night.

[They did make quite the pair, but Dorian didn't care. In his own world, he'd been involved with a 7.5 foot giant with bronze skin and bull's horns. He was used to standing out in a crowd.]

Steal the pleasure and surprise? Certainly not.

[Something fruit, eh? He hadn't thought Bartolomeo the type.]

Oh, this should be interesting.

Heh! [already liking where this is going, Dorian] All right, then. Surprise it is.

[he gestured to the bartender to make that two. Hopefully fruity didn't mean weak, or they'd have to make up for it next round]

What can I say? I got a bit of a sweet tooth. [pun definitely intended, even though it was true] You seriously more into wine, or wanna try a little bit of everything?

[He chuckles again, a throaty, deep sound, robust and genuine.]

Oh, my tongue enjoys all sorts of adventures, even if they're revolting. It's still an experience.

[oh god Dorian no. Laughing even more loudly!]

That's what I like about you, man. You ain't afraid of nothin'.

[drinks arrive! Sadly this bar's idea of fruity is something in orange juice. Screwdrivers, Tequila sunrise...hard to tell, it all just looks orange.]

There we are. Is this all? Damn. This ain't even gonna make up for the long walk from Fayren. Oh well. [bottoms up!]

Oh, I don't know. I'm partial to oranges.

[And he'll take the commentary as a compliment. After all he's seen, it's difficult to be afraid of a little drink.

...oh wait. He'd never been afraid of a drink.

He takes the orange concoction from the bar and raises the glass.]

Indeed. Salutaria!

[And he takes a long pull from the cocktail, his expression thoughtful as he rolls the citrus flavored liquor across his tongue.]

This isn't fresh juice.

[Not an impressive drink to this sophisticated palate.]

[Bartolomeo's face is a lot less thoughtful, but he does sort of frown a little. It's very sugary, that's for sure.]

Wow, you can tell that from just a sip? All I can taste is the shitty vodka. Next round, gonna have to up it to something harder.

[wink wink nudge nudge]

[He takes another pull from the drink, moving the liquid around his mouth as though tasting a fine wine before swallowing and rolling a shoulder in a shrug.]

No. [And he smiles.] But I do believe our friend here [Motioning to the bartender] poured it from a can.

[That doesn't stop him from taking another drink.] Shitty vodka or no, after a bit, it numbs the tongue.

[oh snap, you got him, Dorian. Cue even more cackling - which makes the bartender shrink away. Who are these idiots even]

Good eye, good eye! And here I was all set to be amazed at your tongue instead. Don't make it go too numb, now, you might need it later.

[please do take that any way you want. Barty tosses back most of his drink at once - or tries to, but so much sweetness means he can't quite down it like a shot. Bleah.]

Either way, you get to call the next one.

(Fabulous, bartender. That's who these idiots are. Fabulous.)

The night is young, Bartolomeo. You have plenty of time to be amazing by my tongue. I assure you.

(He lapses into what has to e a carefully over-exaggerated thoughtfulness as he finishes off his screwdriver, setting the empty glass down and licking the acidic sweetness from his lips.)

Very well. Something earthy...with...mint.

Edited 2017-09-17 18:24 (UTC)

Yeah, we'll see about that. Don't let me down, man.

[he's still finishing the last of his when he hears mint]

...what're you tryin' to do, give us whiplash? That's like brushing your teeth right after eating an orange!

Do you often brush your teeth with mint? [He chuckles, shaking his head.] Fine, if you're so put off by the notion, let us find a palette cleanser.

Well...yeah, doesn't everybody? [toothpaste, Dorian!]

Now, now, if you really wanna, I'll brave it. Never let it be said that Bartolomeo the Cannibal backed down from a challenge!

...no. Most types of toothpaste I know of are flavored with clove. [Mint? Oh, now you've got his academic mind distracted, Barty. He hasn't had enough booze yet to stay focused on more booze.

He does blink at his comment, though.]

Ah, yes. I'll yield to your point. Palette cleanser first, or perchance a champa-just a moment. Did you call yourself the "Cannibal"? [He chuckles, but looks slightly uncertain.] I assume that is some sort of piratical intimidation tactic and not a comment on your dietary habits?

[entirely distracted from contemplating clove-flavored toothpaste at Dorian's hesitation. Ahh, it's been so long since someone recoiled at his epithet, only a couple people on the network believed him...

So of course he puts on that fangy grin.]

That's what they call me on my bounty posters. What's the matter, Dorian, I thought you weren't afraid of anything?

[the fact that he's not immediately coming out and saying 'why no I don't actually eat human flesh' is probably not helping. But Bartolomeo hasn't cultivated a reputation by being honest and straightforward.]

'Course, I could've said 'Man-Eater' instead but that'll just get your imagination going in other directions.

I never said I was afraid, Captain. [He scoffs, shaking his head.]

That being said, Cannibalism is typically frowned upon in my civilized cultures. [He raises an eyebrow.] It's the teeth, isn't it? Someone claimed you were a rabid animal and you ran with it for reputation's sake.

Pretty sure cannibalism is frowned upon everywhere. [still grinning, raising his glass to try to look badass and take a drink, forgetting that he's already finished his drink. Oops.]

Could be, could be! Kyehahaha! Nah, you're cool so I'll level. The Marines gave me the name to make me sound scary and I never corrected 'em. All kinds of things get blown out of proportion. It's totally a reputation thing.

Thank the Maker for that. [He doesn't try to mask laughing at Bartolomeo for his empty glass.]

I'm cool. Yay me. [He shakes his head, still sipping his own drink, because he's decided he likes it.] And I suppose that's worked out for you?

Like a dream! [setting down his glass demandingly. The bartender should at least put more vodka in it] Did you know, they actually held a poll on which pirates people would most like to go away? And I won! Number one, baby!

[who ran this poll and who voted, nobody knows, but it's true]

[He laughed because that's ridiculous.]

They ran a poll to gauge the most and least loathed larcenous sea-faring men and you were the worst? They must have a rather shallow pool.

N'aww, you say that like I'm not that bad. [it's all highly amusing to Bartolomeo, no matter which way you look at it.] I beat out Blackbeard, that's pretty impressive. Though, I get the feeling most people want him to do more than just go away.

[himself included, death's too good for that asshole. The bartender tries to slip past, but Barty gives him a good glare until he just pours him a shot of whatever he's got in his hand]

What, like there aren't notorious names where you come from? Or is it like, the guys on land waging war are way more dangerous than your pirates?

Either you are not, or you're very deceptive. [He looks impressed, if only mockingly so.]

Ah, beating Blackbeard. Congratulations I suppose.

[He laughs.] Oh, there are certainly nefarious pirates.

[that gets a completely noncommittal cackle out of him, before he takes the shot.]

...bleah! What was that? Don't give me that shit straight like that, I was expecting something completely different!

[whoops, maybe now the bartender won't be serving them...at all...]

It's funny, innit? There's all these different worlds out there but they all have pirates. And other things, too. It's like we're not really different at all.

Now, now. Don't insult the man, Bartolomeo. He's a kind soul who keeps the liquor flowing.

[At that, Dorian slides a redbill across the bar. He's fine with staying here for a while, and the bartender seems to like the entire redbill prospect enough to, eyebrow raised, place a highball glass on the table before each of them, which he leaves once Dorian gives the man a nod before going about finishing his first drink.]

That's because they all have people, and most have this silly little prospect of 'getting ahead by any means necessary.' Worlds may differ, my friend, but people? I'm fairly certain they never change.

Are we sure it's not a date?

It's kind of a date

We don't need to tell anybody

our secret

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