fifth; video + action (give me a shot to remember and you can take all the pain away from me)

[bekommen]

[Nick is infinitely more sober than the last time she appeared on the network, though the location is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the same. The only difference is that this time, Nick is standing behind the bar, not sitting at it with a drink in hand. She appears slightly uncomfortable, no doubt due to regret over her past broadcast. She clears her throat and nods at the camera.]

So if you didn't already know, I'm working at the bar now. Delight asked me to help out, and it's what I used to do back in Chicago, so.

[She shrugs. Obvious connection is obvious.]

I know I said a lot of shit last time I talked to everyone on this thing, but as I'm sure you all noticed, I was pretty fucking drunk. [She sighs, rolling her eyes, mildly irritated with herself.] I didn't mean most of it, and I'm not gonna, like, poison anyone's drink while I'm working. I also don't drink when I'm on the job, so you don't have to worry about any more dumb bullshit like before. I'm a professional, OK? Just so we got that out there. And yeah, that does mean I'll cut you off if I see you acting like an asshole.

[She reaches over to kill the feed, then remembers she has one more thing to say.]

Oh yeah - leave your fucking pets or whatever at home. I know we don't got health inspections to pass or anything, but that shit still ain't sanitary.

[There, now she's done. She hangs up, but will respond to any replies in between serving patrons of Delight's bar. Perhaps you're even one of them?]

Comments

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[skelebro]

[It's video, because there's no way he's going to all the time and effort to blink over to the bar unless he's got a reason to.]

You serve condiments?

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[bekommen]

[Well ... that's not exactly a question she expected to come from this broadcast, but OK.]

What kinda condiments?

[Sans are you trolling.]

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[skelebro]

Any kind. Ketchup, mustard, mayo, that kinda thing.

[He is actually not trolling okay.]

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[bekommen]

[Sounds fake, Sans, but OK.]

Why would we have that kinda shit at the bar? It's not a sandwich shop.

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[skelebro]

Hey, look, not everybody can drink your run-of-the-mill alcohol. Goes right through me. I gotta have somethin' with a little magic to it.

[He waves a packet of mustard in front of the screen briefly.]

[bekommen]

[Nick scrunches up her face in disgust.]

Ew. D'you even need to drink anything? I mean, you're a skeleton.

[skelebro]

[He manages to look, for a moment, offended. If one can look offended while wearing a placid grin.]

Do you ask everyone if they have a biological need to drown their sorrows?

[hippocratical]

[Simon has managed to miss Nick's broadcast by being incredibly appalled at the sudden lack of actual functional water in the city. At least the water from the tap had seemed reasonably clean by all his testing standards, but you can't exactly wash or irrigate with candy, can you?

Hence his appearance in the bar, not a place he commonly spends time just yet, sliding up to the counter and clearing his throat politely.]

Ah, excuse me. Would you by any chance have a bottle of grain alcohol back there? The higher proof, the better.

[bekommen]

[Nick gives this guy a long, hard stare and a slow blink, trying to decide if he's fucking with her or not.]

Grain alcohol? Look, pal, I know this place sucks, but it's not gonna suck any less with massive brain damage.

[Why yes, this is her in professional mode.]

[hippocratical]

What?

[It takes him a second to make the connection with the assumption, after which begins the backpedaling.]

No, I think you misunderstood. I'm a doctor.

[That's probably not helping.]

[bekommen]

[Nooooot really, no.]

So quit your job if you hate it that much.

[Duh. Obvious solution is obvious.]

[hippocratical]

[His mouth works for a second, attempting to form words, before he finally manages a sentence that seems to come together.]

I love my job. It's very necessary and I'm very good at it. But I'm less good when we don't even have running water. I'm looking for anything that can be used as an emergency antiseptic, in case this keeps up. That's why I'm looking for grain alcohol.

[Although by the time this conversation is over, he could probably use a drink.]

[bekommen]

Oh.

[Well, that makes a lot more sense.]

Well, why didn't you just fuckin' say so from the start? Jesus.

[She turns to the assortment of bottles on the back wall, studying them, thinking about everything she's ever learned about different types of alcohol.]

No grain alcohol, I don't think, but there's vodka - that's pretty close, right? My ex used to make mouthwash with it, anyway. That's kinda like disinfecting.

[action] Forward-dated to late on the 29th

[thechoiceisyours]

[Enough time has passed that he really can't deny it anymore.

In two weeks, both Ashley and Josh had disappeared. Ashley returning home had been difficult, but in a selfish way; he knows she survived at home, and despite that things won't exactly be over when she gets off the mountain--it might never be over--she's alive. She's somewhere safer than this place.

But Josh isn't. There's the faint chance he might've survived and that the police would find him, but somewhere in Chris' mind of heart or intuition he knows they won't. Unless Josh returns to this place at some point, Chris will never see him again.

Chris might've been able to handle Josh leaving if Ashley hadn't just before, or maybe he wouldn't have been able to after all. He doesn't know and it really doesn't matter; there's no end to the awful things that happen here, and if it weren't this it'd be something else. He's just so tired of trying to accept and understand and move on, and deal with his problems like he's a well-adjusted adult. He isn't.

This event is harmless. Everyone is as safe as they'll ever be, and Hannah and Emily are probably asleep anyway at this hour; it's nearly midnight when he leaves the house, a note left in the kitchen in case one of his roommates did wake up and worry about him.

It doesn't take long to reach the bar and he steps in quietly, hoping it's relatively deserted, and it is. Except for Nick, anyway, who is behind the bar, and Chris hesitates in his plan for a brief moment before deciding he doesn't care. Like she'd have any room to judge anyway, he thinks, and then immediately feels a combination of guilt and anger towards himself for it.

He takes a seat at the bar, not even bothering to attempt a smile at his friend, gaze flickering toward the bottles on the wall behind her.]

What is the strongest stuff they have here anyway?

[Is it even alcohol he'd recognize? He doesn't really know, considering he hasn't had any of it since the night of Delight's party, and that had just been shots other people had already ordered.]

[bekommen]

[Nick was about ready to close up for the night when Chris walked in - early, but it had been slow all night, and people were usually already here by now if they were planning on it. She can sense instantly that something is up - she likes to think she's not intuitive, but it's no more true than her belief that she's stupid, or a monstrous thing instead of a person. Growing up with her mother's volatile moods meant developing an ability to pick up on another person's emotions as a survival tactic.

Besides, no one walks in and asks for the strongest thing unless they're looking to do some damage, usually to themselves. She studies Chris for a moment, then turns to the wall of bottles behind her, selecting one that is filled with liquid that looks like a swirl of pink and pastel blue and placing it on the bar in front of Chris.]

I dunno what it's called, but it tastes like cotton candy that's got pepper put on it. I only had a sip of this stuff and it made my head spin, so I guess it's the strongest thing here. I've instituted a three-shot maximum, for everyone's safety. No one really asks for it, though.

[thechoiceisyours]

[Chris watches her set the bottle on the bar, and it's... Definitely unusual looking stuff as far as alcohol goes, but in this place it hardly even registers on the strange scale. Same thing with the described flavor.]

That sounds gross.

[He says it casually, distantly, and it doesn't really match with his actions as he pulls the lid off out of curiosity at what the stuff smells like. It's... Pretty much what she described.

Whatever.

He has enough sense to realize that if it's that strong he really should be careful with drinking it--or reconsider the idea entirely--but it's only a passing thought; he wouldn't have really cared at the moment even if he didn't have a way to heal himself if he gave himself alcohol poisoning. But he does, so there's really no risk at all, except the risk of Nick cutting him off at the three shots she mentioned.

So he'll just take a drink straight from the bottle, and maybe a second if he can manage it before she takes it away.]

[bekommen]

Jesus, Chris, use a glass!

[Nick does indeed snatch the bottle away, halfway into his second drink.]

Just 'cause no one else has been asking for it doesn't mean they won't. Now I'm gonna have to toss it, 'cause there is absolutely no way I'm letting you drink this whole thing, I don't care if Hope will bring you back.

[She sighs loudly and produces a shot glass from behind the bar. Might as well do this right, if they're gonna. She pours him the shot and slides it across the bar to him.]

All right, kid, spill it. I was gonna wait and do the whole "bartender lends a friendly ear" thing, but not if you hate your liver this much. What's going on?

[thechoiceisyours]

[Well, that's no surprise. He just kind of sighs, putting up no opposition to her taking the bottle, though he isn't really expecting the lecture; it's not like she's paying for stock and he doubts Delight will think twice about replacing the bottle.

Still, he's pretty sure he circumvented the three shot rule with the stunt, which is what he'd been going for. It's a bonus that she gives him another glass anyway, and he knows he really shouldn't take it but is far past backing out of things now.

So he downs it immediately, especially when he hears her question. Part of him doesn't want to talk about it--any of it--but the larger part that's prompted him to come here in the first place does want to. He suddenly understands why Nick had made her drunken broadcast the month before.]

Ash and Josh are both gone.

[It's as distant as before, because he's more focused on feeling the alcohol kick in. It's definitely as strong as she said, and hopefully that's strong enough.]

[bekommen]

[Old habits die hard, and she is, as she said, a professional at bartending and takes her work seriously. She's practically a different person on the clock.

But Chris isn't here to see her simply as a server of drinks - the bomb he drops isn't the sort of thing you talk about with just anyone. He's here, she thinks, because he needs a friend. And maybe not just any friend - he has others, of course - but her specifically. Maybe just because they've been through so much together here. Maybe because she knows what it's like to choose self-destruction as a way of coping with loss and pain.]

Goddamn it.

[Her reaction is quiet at first, accompanied by a deep frown. No wonder he asked for the strongest stuff.]

Shit, Chris, I'm sorry. I know you were pretty close with both of 'em, right?

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[ushahin]

Very good. I am pleased to see you finding a useful occupation for your time.

[No sarcasm here. Ushahin actually means it. He'd been concerned that the girl was a bit of a drunken fool, but if it was a one-off, he has less to worry about. Humans should be allowed their foolishness once in a while.]

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[bekommen]

[Nick gives him a lopsided grin. She's totally capable of learning from her mistakes, OK.]

Yeah, I guess that makes two of us, huh. You gonna come have a drink sometime?

[ushahin]

I don't know if that would be wise. My powers and alcohol are not a good mixture.

[If Nick thinks her public meltdown was bad, just imagine what Ushahin's would be like. Everyone within projecting distance would be feeling every bit of pain, anger, despair, and whatever else he was feeling at the time.]

[bekommen]

We do have nonalcoholic drinks too. What kinda powers you got, anyway?

[ushahin]

Somehow, drinking surrounded by those fools who wish to while away their time with alcohol doesn't precisely appeal to me.

[Their minds, numbed and sluggish from their drinks, don't sound like something he wants to expose himself to.]

I can go into men's minds and see their thoughts. I can break them or change them as I see fit, even when they sleep. That's why I named myself Dreamspinner.

[bekommen]

All right, fair enough.

[It's true that being around people who are drinking when you're not isn't a whole lot of fun.]

... Really. Huh.

[It's pretty weird, but then again, this place raises the bar on what weird means, exactly.]

You do this kinda thing all the time?