Subtlety is Overrated (Kyrian)

[Alistair Therin Redcliffe]

How long had it been since he'd just kicked back and had a drink? Not since he'd been in New Haven... but then, he'd only been here a little while, so that didn't really count, huh? Even when he was... alive... it had been a while since he'd relaxed like that. School had started in August, and he hadn't had time (or spare cash) to go out clubbing. Nor had he really felt like it... something his ex boyfriend, Jason, couldn't seem to get. He'd fallen out with him, and spent some time sulking over it. Then the holidays and midterms were approaching, and that whole gang situation...

In any case, now seemed like a good time to rectify his lack of good times and good alcohol. He had no class tomorrow, and his Reapering business was all taken care of for the moment. Why not spend his free time seeing if he could be dead and drunk instead of just dead drunk? He wasn't sure he was up to mingling at the local club he'd heard about... Icon, wasn't it? No, this world and its rules were still so new to him. He wasn't ready to risk dancing and some fourteen year old looking boy try to grind on him. It made him feel fucking creepy, even if the kid really -was- like fifty-eight. He'd never been interested in younger men... sure, there was some eye candy out there. even in his high school classes. But Alistair had a strict look-don't-touch policy on students. He'd always really liked older men. Jason had been his age, and what a mistake that had been!

In any case, he'd heard mention of a little karaoke bar not too far away. It sounded perfect... sit at the bar, have a few drinks, and listen to people try and sing random songs after imbibing liquid courage. Maybe even find a cute man to warm a winters night. He wouldn't have to talk or interact with anyone he didn't choose to, so he wouldn't have to worry about the social boundary problems that a place like Icon would create. So he'd sorted through his thrift store gear and put together a decent outfit, grabbing his faithful messenger bag and checking on his charge before heading on.

He walked into Dream On quietly, peering around. Hm. Pretty dead, really. But it was early yet. People would probably flow in a little later once more of them got off work. He strode up to the bar, taking a seat and putting his messenger bag onto the chair beside his. He looked behind the bar, tilting his head and waiting for the bartender to show up.

Dec. 1, 5:45pm

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tagged: Kyrian
words: 446
outfit: Hey There...
lyrics: raise your glass by p!nk
credit: LAVIEBOHEME @ caution 2.o

[Kyrian Devereaux White]

[atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; background: url(http://a-little-wicked.com/SpooksRandom/DieYoung/KyrianWallpaper.png); border: 4px double #3598FD, bTable]

[atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; width:450px; height:300px; background: #000000; overflow: auto; border: 2px solid #3598FD; color: ffffff; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.55]Dream On was just a little understaffed tonight. He had a busboy and the bartender call in tonight, something going around, he guessed. So that put him on bartending and his busers working an extra zone. The two he had split the zone between them easily though, but occasionally, he would run something over to the tables, like a drink or something of that nature. Most of the crowd right now were the younger sets. Those that couldn't really do much at Icon except drink gingerale or water and eat peanuts and dance. Dream On was more... friendly to those who were under the alcoholic-drinking age. He moved back to the bar at this point, a white apron tied around his waist as he lifted up the piece of the bar which restricted access to employee's only and stepped back behind the bar. It would appear that there was actually someone waiting at the bar. He moved forward towards the other male, leaning onto the bartop easily, resting his weight on one elbow. "Sorry for the wait, I had a couple of guys call in tonight, so I'm pulling double duty," he apologized, offering a small smile to the male who looked to be just slightly older than himself. Physically, anyway. He tilted his head slightly as he watched the male. "So what can I get for you?" he asked evenly, moving down to grab a glass in case the other male didn't want a beer. "I'd ask you for ID, but... you actually look like you're over the age, so... I think I shall digress," he stated with another smile. Of course, asking for ID was a common thing at Dream On, because you'd get in people who looked like they were 15 years old and were actually in their thirties. It was disconcerting, though something he was growing used to. Rather like seeing the exact same reflection in the mirror every morning. Not a damn thing changed except that his hair was still growing. His hair was longer now, shaggy enough to sometimes hang into his eyes. When he'd died, though, it had been cut short in the style of the Marines. Hell, when he'd gotten here, he'd even still been in his damn uniform. It was back home... hanging in his closet. He had personally repaired the damage from where he'd been hit with that bullet and scrubbed the blood from it. He still looked at it from time to time. Sure, he might have been a little morbid but... it was something. As it was, he still wore his dog tags, and the man who had been his Reaper had actually gone to the mortal world and retrieved a few things which had been sent to his father. Not that his father would miss them. He'd put them in the damn attic, after all... including the wounded warrior medallion he wore... and the purple cross that was tucked in a dark walnut case lined with velvet back at his condo. He looked back at the male and shook his head slightly. "My bad, man. Zoned off there, I guess for a sec. What was it that you said I could get for you?" he asked. What was wrong with him? He didn't need to be getting sucked into that kind of shit right now. Geeze. He had a job to do.

[atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; background-color: #000000; border: 2px solid #3598FD; color: ; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.5]TAGGED: alistair || WORD: 562 || OUTFIT: here template by emrysdaelan @ caution 2.0 keep the credit or angry badgers will nom your face off!

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[Alistair Therin Redcliffe]

He'd been there maybe five minujtes or so when a hot younge blonde moved behind the bar and over in his direction. Al's lips curled into a welcome, if slightly predatory, smile as he leaned an elbow on the bar. Mmm... hot. With a capital Rawr. His night was starting off rather spectacularly so far. If only he were gay... but then, that might be too much to hope for, especially considering the amount of soldier gear the guy was sporting. The last time he'd hit on an army man, he'd gotten a black eye. Still, at least he'd have a right nice bit of eye candy to enjoy while he drank. "Oh me, already too old to get carded. Tsk. Way to make a man feel old." He teased, winking at the man. "And me without my cane..."

He gave a soft chuckle, shrugging his shoulders. "Think nothing of it, friend. Theres something going around... I had a few students miss class this week because of it, and one more girl toss her lunch back up and go home early. I'm in no hurry myself... if you've got a moment, I'll take a Sex on the Beach, though." Yes, it was a sissy drink. Screw you. He loved sissy drinks. Beer was vile, and straight liquor almost as awful. But fruity concoctions were amazing, and the only reason he bothered to drink at all. He'd take a blender of Pina Colada over a six pack of Budweiser any day of the week. And despite what certain people thought, those sissy drinks could really knock you on your ass. If they were made right, at least. The key to a good mixed drink was letting the intending flavors prevail while the alcohols snuck by undetected and beat you down ninja-style. People never saw it coming.

But the bartender seemed to have drifted off. His eyes were glazed over, and a frown was marring that pretty face. Alistair thought he detected a flicker of pain in the others gaze. He reached out just as the other snapped back to reality, touching the back of his hand and leaning forward with concern on his face, the tops of his own dog tags peeking from beneath his shirt collar. "Are you alright there, friend? You arent coming down with the bug yourself, are you?" He paused, tilting his head slightly. It was supposed to be his evening off to relax... but Alistair had never quite been able to refuse help when it was needed. "Look, I know this is going to sound odd and all, but if you're that overwhelmed tonight I can step in and lend a hand. I worked as a bartender for a few years while I was going through college... and I never really had any complaints. At the least I could help you bus tables or something. So dont overdo it, yeah?".

Dec. 1, 5:45pm

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tagged: Kyrian
words: 483
outfit: Hey There...
lyrics: raise your glass by p!nk
credit: LAVIEBOHEME @ caution 2.o

[Kyrian Devereaux White]

[atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; background: url(http://a-little-wicked.com/SpooksRandom/DieYoung/KyrianWallpaper.png); border: 4px double #3598FD, bTable]

[atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; width:450px; height:300px; background: #000000; overflow: auto; border: 2px solid #3598FD; color: ffffff; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.55] Kyrian smiled slightly as the man across the bar stated that he was only making him feel old. "Well, when you get people in here who look 15, you need to card them. However, you look like you are probably over twenty one years of age, so... I don't need to bother either of us with asking for your identification, do I?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Not that you look old, but... you definitely look legal. Well... legal age to drink anyway. That's not saying that you're not illegal in other ways," he stated with a smirk as he let his eyes roam over the other male. "Though I'm sure if someone who looked as good as you actually needed a cane, I'm sure you'd have better uses for it than just walking..." he added, chuckling softly. He nodded though as the other stated that there was some kind of virus going around. "Don't that just figure? You'd think that in the afterlife, you'd be pain-free and wouldn't have to worry about stuff like the flu anymore. I mean honestly, what kind of afterlife is that when you end up in bed all day because of the flu and not because you've just be fucked so good your brain just thinks that you're whole body is a bowl of jello." Now it had been a good long while since he'd had a fuck that good. Since high school, actually. "Of course, knowing my bartender, he's not really sick and his brain does think he's just a bowl of jello..." Which was also entirely possible. He was a bit of a whore from what Kyrian understood. Or what was the proper term? Polygamist. Yeah, that was it. A nympho. But as he used his rag to dry off a portion of the bar where someone had left an empty glass, he looked over at the other as he ordered his drink. "Ooh, one of my favorites, if I must admit. But you need a good towel or blanket to keep the sand out. Oh... wait.. you meant the drink. Also a good choice," he stated, chuckling softly. "I don't know, I'm rather partial to Sex on my Face... or maybe a Screaming Orgasm." He paused as if thinking about it for a moment. "Nah. Sex on my Face. Definitely. Canadian Whiskey, coconut rum, peach liquer, banana liquer, cranberry juice, pineapple juice and orange juice. Best ever." He nodded slightly as he moved to get a glass for the other male's drink. He reached up into the cabinet and grabbed his shaker, pouring in the vodka, he pulled down the bicardi and added it into the shaker as well. Next, he pulled out the gold tequila and peach liquer, adding them in, and then added a generous amount of grenadine and orange juice. Closing the canister, he began to shake the liquids up as his other hand grabbed hold of the highball glass he'd pulled out and filled it half of the way full with ice before he poured the liquid over the ice and handed the glass to the other male. "Ten even," he stated easily, watching the other male. "Though for someone as pretty as you... I'm willing to let the first drink be on the house," he stated, pulling a ten from his own pocket and putting it into the register with a wink at the other male. When the other offered to step in and help, he shrugged it off. "Nah, its no big deal. I'm not getting sick. Marine's don't get sick. It's like... an anathema of nature to even suggest it," he stated, laughing softly. "So what's your name there, big shot? My name is Kyrian. Nice to meet you. I own Dream On," he stated, gesturing towards the karaoke bar around them. "And you're... a teacher?" he asked, tilting his head. Which would probably make this guy a Reaper. Yep, there was the ring on the finger that Kyrian hadn't thought to look for. Definitely meant the guy was old enough to drink. Reapers were always 27 years old or older, so there wasn't going to be any real questioning going on in that regard.

[atrb=style, font-family: Tahoma; word-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; background-color: #000000; border: 2px solid #3598FD; color: ; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.5]TAGGED: alistair || WORD: 744 || OUTFIT: here template by emrysdaelan @ caution 2.0 keep the credit or angry badgers will nom your face off!

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