taxonomites | 02: [Visual] + [Location: Caritas]

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02: [Visual] + [Location: Caritas]

Casey punches the broadcast button on the tablet which is sitting on the bar counter and leans into frame. He's got a bruise or two, maybe a laceration on the cheekbone but it's minor and woe betide anyone commenting on it.

"I've got this leather duster here," he holds it up, "from the warehouse rescue. If you're the owner of said coat, I'm at Caritas, the demon bar in Osten. Ask for Casey."

He turns off the transmission and tosses the coat under the counter out of the way.

"So, where were we?" He starts grabbing some bottles of liquor and setting them on the bar in front of him.

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Casey's pleased to see her and stands a little straighter.

"I don't know if taking down a bunch of Extras counts as marauding, but thanks. Coat wouldn't have fit me anyways. I'm broader and taller than the wearer. So, what can I get you?"

"Mm. Well. What do you drink where you're from, besides cold ale?" She comes up to the bar, leaning on it a little; she's tall enough it's easy for her to do so.

Her quick assessment is that his injuries are nothing worth mentioning. She's seen and had much worse, and he seems to be in his normal humor.

"Well, I tend to stick to hard liquor for the most part. Whiskey or bourbon. I'm pretty fond of Johnny Walker, black. But if you're asking what most people in LA drink? Probably champagne or fruity cocktails."

He smirks at her and pulls over a bowl of corn chips for her to nibble on while she makes up her mind.

"It really depends on what kind of taste-buds you have."

She raises her eyebrows at the corn chips, but tries one thoughtfully. "Frankly, by name alone, Johnny Walker, black sounds much more promising than 'fruity cocktails.'" She smiles, lazily but curious. "But what would you guess, for my particular taste-buds?"

Casey assesses her for a moment, cocking his head to the side.

"I think you'd probably like Johnny Walker on the rocks. but...I don't know, maybe you're more of a shots kinda gal. Like the rush of the initial quick hit, then the warmth spreading slowly through you, and then before you know it the alcohol's crept up behind you and smacked you in the head with a tire iron."

"Mm." She takes a slow bite of a chip, considering, then says, "A quick rush and an ambush can be fun, sometimes, but I find that nine times of ten that rushing a good thing doesn't get me where I wish to go. There's something to be said for anticipation, after all, don't you think?" She lips the salt off her lips, not rushed but not exaggerated.

Her grin is a little wicked. The flirt's genuine enough, but she also expects him to realize that she's laying it on a bit thick in response to the tack he chose to take.

"You're not wrong there." Casey's smirk widens briefly in response. She's one smart cookie. Nows how to play the game, keeping some cards close to the chest, displaying others. He can't wait to play a real hand of poker with her.

"Johnny Walker, black, for the lady then. It's best if you sip it real slow. I think I'll skip the ice too."

He sets her up a tumbler glass and then pours a double shot of the dark amber liquid into it.

"I warn you, some people think it tastes too earthy, too smoky."

"I'll keep that in mind." She takes it, toasts him slightly, and takes a sip. She has no intention of saying she likes something she doesn't just to impress him. Instead, she considers the flavor, savoring it a little.

After a moment, she nods. "It's good. A type of whiskey, yes? Though it's a little smoother than what I've had before, back home." Whiskey's not her usual drink, but on the other hand, it is flavorful, and the craftsmanship is clearly decent.

"Yeah. If you want smooth? It's the premium Blue Label you gotta try. Aged over twenty years. Only catch is it's 200 bucks a bottle."

He pours himself a soda water, since he's on duty and toasts her back.

"So what brings you to Caritas? You looking to belt out a few ballads for us?"

"Singing?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Well. If you must know, I mainly thought it might be nice to venture out a bit. Since it seems there's no immediate prospect of getting home, it seems prudent to know my fellow prisoners a bit more." At least by observation.

"This is a Karaoke bar." He explains, pointing at the small stage and microphone. "People come here to have a few drinks, sing their fave pop hits. Embarrass themselves. Not always in that order."

"Sometimes Lorne gives them a 'reading'. Apparently he's an empath demon and tell people what their futures are gonna be or something when he hears them sing. Sounds like bull-crap, I know, but he does have some kind of mind-whammy ability. I've seen it in action."

Which is his way of admitting to having been read.

"What is a 'pop' song?" she asks, smiling a little but with genuine interest. As for the reading part, her mind is open. There are rumors of magic bigger than that in her world, though she hasn't actually encountered any herself.

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02: [Visual] + [Location: Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]

[location | Caritas]