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You’re uh, you’re still thinking, you reply with a polite laugh! She can take the other lady’s order first!
“Wow, ya’ scrounged up a gentleman here, didn’tcha, hon?” Ma remarks as she gives the other Skog a smirk. “You first then, sweetheart.”
The Spinner blinks a few times, clearly having not heard that expression often. “Yeesh… I don’t have much alcohol tolerance, but if it’s freeeee….”
Something tells you this is a big mistake, but you let it happen anyways. Making a show of deliberating, TT’s eyes go saucer-sized as an idea pops into her head!
“Ooh, I’ll take a <span class="mu-b">COASTAL!</span> That’s a tasty one!”
“Grd choish!” Agrees Volka as she briefly resurfaces from her tankard.
The bartenderess raises a ragged eyebrow. “With gel?”
“You betcha!” Tzah-Tzie replies with a wink! “Nothing like a drink to end a hard day~”
“It’s still morning, kiddo.” Grunts Ma as she begins to toss ingredients around behind the bar. “You kids picked a strange time to swing by… first the <span class="mu-r">RED COMET</span>, then Fellick croaking… Might close up early today–misery comes in threes, y’know.”
Pausing mid-mix, Ma sends an apologetic glance in Volka’s direction. “Don’t worry, hon–you can still have your meetin’ here tonight. You still got yer’ key?”
“Yup!” Nods your Skog as she polishes off the rest of her tankard with an exultant ‘<span class="mu-i">aaah~</span>’, “Wait, comet?”
“Yep, eye’s still burning from starin’ at it!” Ma snorts as she pours something gooey into TT’s drink! “I was opening up when it happened: some kinda energy peeked in through a hole I never noticed in the ceiling–the whole morning crowd stampeded outside to take a gander while I nearly knocked over all my stock!”
“Talk about lucky, hm?” TT remarks, her eyes lighting up as her drink is placed in front of her!
“Well I wouldn’t say that…” Mutters the bartender with a faint chill in her tone, “Wasn’t very lucky for Chairman Fellick… and a red comet’s a whole different story when yer’ a Skog.”
“It is?” Volka asks, the bar groaning in protest under her weight as she leans forward! “Whatsit mean?”
“‘<span class="mu-i">Favorable War</span>’,” the old Skog replies like a parent telling a ghost story at a campfire. “But what the hells do I know? Declarin’ war ain’t as easy as it used to be, so…” You can’t see it, but you’re pretty sure she’s shrugging.
“And there I go ruining the mood… you know whatcha’ want yet, <span class="mu-i">Andon</span>?”
It’s <span class="mu-i">Anton</span>, you smile, and you’re still think-
<span class="mu-r">Britzoff Scorcher… that’s a good one…</span>
>CONTD.
