ataraxion | video;

[ when Wichita's video cuts on, it's clearly recording from somewhere on the bar, what with the wall of bottles behind her and the lights and the music going on in the background. her mask is off ( but nearby ), because she can't wear her fox face while also wearing her bartending sombrero because of the ears and- well, you understand. but she's got both hands on the bar, not because she needs to hold herself up, but because she wants to be leaning like this. damnit. ]

I'm bored, and this bar is pathetically empty, so here's what we're gonna do.

We're all gonna stop going out into the doomy unknown, and stop getting our asses kicked, and stop worrying about the next big Stupid Thing to ruin our lives- [ lol spoiler: her mask is already ruining her life, what with her paranoia skyrocketing and the recent seeing zombies thing. hence the whole practically living at the bar development. ] - and you're all going to come here, come hang out, have a few drinks, and freaking relax for a while. Alright? That's the plan. That's our next thing.

And it starts right now.

Get your asses down here and order a drink. Dance a little. Meet somebody new, make some stupid decisions that result in good times instead of space horror blahblah. Maybe have some fun, for once. Just an idea!

Unless you're like, under sixteen. Then your order is automatically a space Cola. Which tastes nothing like Coke or Pepsi. Sorry.

[ ooc: open for network posting or action spam. I was going to put up a separate log, but this is easier and less spammy. <3 ]

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[ what the fuck?!

it's just a bird. but. whatthefuck. her eyes are wide for a second, and she's not- sure- if there's some rule? against pets being in the bar? she'd have to ask Brian or Justin. but, later. for now she's just going to tread carefully. as carefully as someone in a loud bar can tread, at least. right. ]

Umm.

[ she's actually reluctant to turn her back on the bird now that she's looked at it, but she turns to check out the bottle, quirks her brow up at it. ] I actually don't know. Huh. One way to find out.

[ which is reaching under the bar and grabbing two shot glasses, placing them up on the bar, then moving to go get the bottle off the back wall. she cracks open the cork on the way over, makes the mistake of- ] Woof! Oh. God. No. No. [ smelling it. ] Don't. Smell that. Before you drink it. Jesus.

[ ... because she's pouring them both a shot anyway, even if her stinkface still hasn't faded off completely. good lord that stuff smelled like motor oil. she nudges one of the shots towards him, then picks up her own. ] This has the potential to either make or break this evening. Ready for it?

[He smirks and reaches for the shot, and takes her advice of not smelling it directly, though the scent of the stuff finds its way to his nose anyway, making his eyes water just a little. Excellent.]

Yeah, here goes nothing.

[He can handle a lot of different kinds of alcohol, and has had some pretty nasty stuff before, but this one takes the cake. It's just about the only thing that's ever made him cough and sputter a little after gulping it down. Ever. Still, he laughs a little as he sets the shotglass back down on the bar with a thunk.]

Me lleva la chingada, that's a hell of a drink. No wonder I don't see more people 'round here drinkin' that one.

[ for a second, Wichita actually believes that her throat is on fire. it's literally burning from the inside out. she's going to die. she can't breathe.

at least her sinuses are clearer than ever, though.

her eyes are a little misty once she puts down her glass, and she has to squeeze them shut. while also trying not to cough too harshly. ]

Never again. Never again. --Unless it's mixed with something. Water it down a little. Blehhh.

[ she shakes out her shoulders, her head, like she can shake off the taste in her mouth. which of course doesn't work, so she fills up two rocks glasses with plain Cola, slides one his way. ]

Here, wash that crap out. We'll try something else.

[ ... but as she's sipping her soda, gulpgulpgulp, she can't help but train her eyes on the bird again. ]

... Your friend isn't gonna get freaked out by loud music or anything, will he?

[He's still pretty amused by the effects of that last drink, especially given that he's already had a little by now anyway, so everything is a little bit funny. He takes the soda and has a sip, then smiles at the bloodwing on his shoulder.]

What, him? Nah. Helps to get him used to bein' around stuff like this. He's still pretty young so, you know. Tolerates a lot. Jus' don't suddenly reach for him or somethin', he'll be fine.

Yeah, no worries there. [ totally not about to reach towards the bird, nope. she likes her fingers the way they are, thank you. ] Uhh. [ eheheh, apparently after a few drinks, Wichita's not that great at hiding her nerves. in this case- nerves a la birdy. but eventually her eyes move away from it again. ] That's cool that he got to come here with you. I never had a pet back home, but I imagine having one here would be pretty fun. I heard some guy's got his pet dinosaur staying in the gardens.

Dinosaur? How the hell's a guy have a pet dinosaur, 's he from a world where humans were around millions of years earlier?

[The whole alternate worlds thing has taken him a while to get used to. It's still really freaking weird, but at least it bothers him less now.]

Seems like a buncha people have pets here. Well, and Jaye's got that whole farm thing goin', too.

Beats me. Maybe he can time travel. Or he's a highly sophisticated cave man. I haven't actually met him, so I dunno. I think I like the idea of him being a cave man, though.

[ amuuused ]

See, the farm thing confuses me. Eggs and milk are fine and all but I could totally go for a steak. Or hell, a drumstick. I think having a huge ship-wide feast is totally worth offing Betsy and the chickadees. [ looking at that bird of his again, suddenly completely sincere ] Not you, man. [ grinning again ] I'm just saying.

Yeah, I'm with you there, that sounds like the more entertaining option for sure.

[He sips at his soda. The taste of that awful drink is just about gone.]

She found some fertilized eggs for me, actually, an' I'm gonna keep breeding the chicks if they don't start gettin' malformed from the inbreeding, but the profits go to my bird. I can eat whatever canned shit's in the kitchens, I don't care, but he's gotta have real food. Lucky guy.

[He smiles at that and reaches up to scratch the bird on his back, then nudges his glass in Wichita's direction.] You wanna add something to that soda to make it a little more interesting, now that I'm not about to cough my lungs up?

Oh, yeah sure.

[ rum, rum, rum. where'd she put the rum. it takes her a second to find it ( and to put the OFFENSIVE bottle of booze back in its place on the wall ), but then she's heading over, topping off his drink with a healthy amount of rum. it won't be mixed very well, but she doesn't think he'll mind too much. she leaves hers alone by now, wanting the sugar fix more than anything. a few hours at the bar got tiring after a while! in a good way, but still. ]

Ugh, this talk about canned food makes me realize how sick of canned food I am. Not that I'm getting off the ship if we make another pitstop, but. God. I'd pay somebody to grab me some, i dunno. Fresh pasta? Maybe a muffin or two? I'm really not picky.

[He gives his drink a swirl and figures that's enough of a mix. If there's more rum than soda on top, he won't complain, especially about the first couple sips.]

That does sound pretty good, an' I'm sure if you give me a while of sittin' around here, I'll get to the same point. But considerin' I've been livin' off MREs and campfire-cooked alien animal things, even the cans are pretty damn good. That an' all the fresh vegetables, I can appreciate those.

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