Saturday, 11/30/2250 – By Rebecca Green,
“Bu-deh!” Ramadin crowed, reaching high to slap Will on the shoulder as they entered the bar. “Time for your victory lap, cheer up a little!”
“I am cheerful.” Will complained, swatting the dwarf away “I’m also dead beat, give me a break.”
“Give you a break? You defeated the dragon! That’s some boss level shit! Let us drink to your honor!” He hopped up onto a stool as he spoke, patting the spot beside him where Will reluctantly slid into. Beside him, Tamarin popped up, effectively surrounding the vampire in overly enthusiastic dwarves. Ian, the ever reasonable one, mercifully sat on the other side of Tamarin, content to leave the others at it and watch the show.
“Is this punishment for trashing your room the other night?” Will grumbled, pulling his phone out briefly to look at something. Tamarin snickered, while Ramadin huffed.
“No, this is-” He reached forward to snatch the vampire’s phone away, “Until you repay me for my Atari 2600, that thing was worth more than your existence.”
Will gave up on his phone, instead mopily resting his chin on his arms. “I’ll figure it out, man, I wasn’t exactly taking inventory while being chased by a two ton werewolf.”
“I’ll have to make you a medal.” Tamarin mused over their arguing, “The werewolf slayer sounds appropriate.”
Ramadin grinned over at his twin, “We can get it engraved and everything. I know a guy who could fashion one up.”
“Who the hell do you know that makes werewolf slayer medals?” Ian piped up, resting his chin in his palm as he watched.
“Well where else would I get my custom helmets and armour- he makes medals too.”
“So he’s your cosplay guy.” Tamarin taunted.
“He is my weapons guy.”
Will smirked at the opportunity, his head perking back up, “You said he was helmets and armour, that’s defense not offense.”
“Enough of your dress up,” Tamarin interrupted, “I’m here to get Will drunk, not talk about your fashion statements. Hey! Kadendale!” He waved his hand up to get a hold of the bartender, the man waving with a rag in his hand as he cleaned out a glass, approaching as he did. The man towered over them, nearly two feet taller than the dwarves.
“What’s it today?” He questioned, setting the cup on an unseen shelf under the counter. “The usual vodka on the rocks? A whiskey with sprite for you, Ramadin?” The dwarves nodded.
Tamarin raising a hand to clasp Will on the back, “and a grateful dead for my friend here.”
Suriat nodded, leaning down to grab the necessary ingredients as Will asked, “What’s a grateful dead?”
“Paradise, my friend.” Tamarin replied,
“Kadendale, this here is Sir William, he spent this past moon battling a wolf. Sir William, this is Suriat. He’s a bartender.” The dwarf grinned too proudly of his own introductions, gaining a raise of the eyebrow from the white haired bartender in question.
Suriat turned his eyes to Will, “I heard about those attacks. You were the kid at the university?”
“So that’s been getting around?” Will replied grumpily, settling back in his seat.
“He was! Some kid from the Eagle’s House got stuck in the blizzard and transformed. Wish I had been there, battle a werewolf indeed!” Ramadin was wistful as he reached for the drink Suriat placed on the counter.
“Don’t be stupid,” Tamarin rebutted. “He’d have gobbled you up in a second.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve slayed many dragons!”
“I don’t think video games translate to reality.” Suriat commented, “I wouldn’t want to tangle up with a werewolf if I were you.”
Ramadin huffed, sulking as he took a sip of his whiskey. “You like to bully me don’t you,” He complained.
“It’s only bullying if there’s a victim.” Will reasoned, now taking the cup that Suriat gave to him. He eyed the contents suspiciously, “But seriously, what the hell is in this?”
“One part rum, one part tequila, vodka, gin, triple sec, razzmatazz and sour mix.”
Will looked at him blankly. “What now?”
Suriat rolled his eyes, “Alcohol.”
Tamarin took a swig of his own drink, “Just hold your nose and swallow, Will.” The vampire wrinkled his nose but then closed his eyes and downed the drink in one go. A moment later, he gagged, eyes wide and slammed the cup down on the table, “What the hell-” He squeaked.
“You weren’t supposed to do that.” Ramadin howled, Tamarin snickering across from him.
“Downing alcohol is generally a bad idea.” Suriat threw in, gathering the empty cup from him. “Want more?”
“Maybe you should make a contest out of it,” Ian suggested, a hint of a smirk on his face as he took a sip of his soda, “I bet your full-sized body could outdrink the half dwarf any day.”
Ramadin instantly stood up on the bars of his stool for a moment as he defended himself. “I’ll have you know, I hold my alcohol better than anyone!”
“I’ve seen you drunk more than anyone else at the Uni. You’re a regular dwarf.”
“Harhar, c’mon Tamarin, you going to take that?”
“You’re a light weight, Ramadin, sorry.”
“Wow, okay. Thanks for the vote of confidence. C’mon Will, let’s have at it. I have my honor to defend.”
Will took a breath of hesitation, but Ian leaned forward against the counter to peer at him, “Have at it Will, I’d love to see you knock this dwarf down another peg or two. He’s much too confident.”
Ramadin scowled at Ian’s words, but he was raising his hand, “Ey! Kadendale! We got a drinking competition going!”
“Is that the best idea?” Suriat replied, eyeing the dwarf as he approached once more, holding a bottle of liquor. “Will seems to be holding down that grateful dead pretty well. And I know how you handle your alcohol.”
“Don’t turn down customers!” Chortled Tamarin, always happy to dig his brother’s grave, “I’d love nothing more than to watch my brother stumble his way back to the dorm.” Earning himself a hefty glare from said brother, but Suriat was rolling his eyes,
“Alright, what do you want for it?”
“Straight shots.” Answered Ramadin in a heartbeat, glancing at Will, “You’re going down buddy.”
Will looked back and cracked a grin, “I’d say the same, but I don’t think you can get much lower.”
Ramadin huffed, “Low blow, buddy.”
“Aren’t they all?” Ian teased, and Tamarin now cuffed him on the shoulder in good fun. Suriat had three shot glasses out, all filled to the brim and set out, a bottle in his hand. Tamarin practically shoved one into Will’s hand while Ramadin picked up his own, taking a moment before announcing “Bottom’s up!” And downing the glass, Will a half step behind. Placing the glass back down, he reached for the second while the bartender refilled them.
The pattern went on for a good five minutes. Each shot a little slower, Ramadin squinting his eyes as he struggled to stay focused, but his lips curled and Ian took the opportunity to comment, “How’s that cosplay coming, buddy?”
Near instantly, Ramadin began to giggle, and he didn’t stop. “Fuck you man,” He howled, hitting the counter with his hand, “It’s n-not cosplay it’s battle. So many dragons, I have to be ready to fight them.”
“Don’t fight the dragon.” Ian advised.
Ramadin mumbled, holding the last shot against his lips without drinking it, “Ima fight the dragon.”
Beside him, Will was grinning, but he took the last shot and his hand was a little too tight around his glass. All at once he set it hard against the counter, standing up so quickly that he stumbled, but he hardly cared as he began to insist, “Guys, let’s do something. Not hang around this- this stupid bar. Let’s- let’s do something.”
“Hey, watch it.” Suriat called out, pointing at them with a rag, “Or I might not let you back in next time.” He said while eyeing Ramadin in particular, the dwarf having dissolved into giggles as he swished a pencil – god knew where he got it from – like a sword, mumbling to himself.
“Let’s do something!”
“You could dance on that table?” Tamarin suggested, and Will seemed entirely willing to do just that, but Suriat was leaning forward on the counter. An amused curl of the lips, even as he debunked the suggestion.
“Let’s not dance on the tables. I know a great karaoke bar in the next town though.”
“Yes.” Will exclaimed, “YES!” Louder than he realized he was even speaking, and Ian snorted hard as he held a hand against his ear. “Let’s- Let’s do that! I- I wanna sing.” He blinked rapidly, struggling to have semblance of normality, but at the same time he was resting both hands on Tamarin’s shoulders and had begun to hum the alphabet.
Tamarin grinned as he finished off his own drink, “Alright. I’m sure we can find something to entertain ourselves at a karaoke bar.”
Ian snorted again, “How much we owe you, Suriat?”
The man shook his head, “First round’s on me. You’ve given me all the entertainment I need for the evening.” Tamarin raised a hand to thank the man, but Ramadin had thrown himself against the counter in an over enthusiastic gesture to salute.
“GOOD SIR!” He boomed, “Great, great sir. I’d like another shot!”
“I think you’ve had enough,” Suriat replied, handing Tamarin the receipt for the rest of their tab, “And you have a karaoke bar to crash. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have you.” He was perfectly happy to send his already drunk customers to their competition.
Tamarin slowly shooed his brother off the stool. Ian stood to pat a hand on Will’s back, guiding the mage. It took some maneuvering until they were headed out of the bar, Tamarin and Ian calling back a goodbye to the bartender that they knew perhaps a bit too well. Piling into their car, the four made their way to this other bar, happy to cause chaos elsewhere.