[OPEN]

[dinnerdate]

WHO: OPEN
WHERE: The bar.
WHEN All day.
WHAT: Meet the newest bartender the bar has to offer... Or complain that a vampire is working somewhere so public to other customers.
WARNINGS: None? Dead End?


He'd only been working at the bar for a month and it was already stressful. During that time Rung had been killed and come back, and there were times where he just didn't want to be mixing drinks, he wanted to be keeping an optic on the therapist - just in case. Then there were the times when he was working with Blurr. The one who had hired him and knew nothing about mixing drinks. It was frustrating and made him incredibly nervous considering the Autobot's other job was that of a cop.

How long until the universe decided to torment him again? Probably wouldn't be long really. given his luck.

Thankfully this day he was working by himself, or at least for the time being. He had time to brood inbetween orders and when things were slow, and just worry about all the what ifs and could happens. Able to just lean back behind the bar and prod at an empty cube. Anyone wants a drink and they'll call him, he's sure.

Comments

[furryfarkinfiend]

Having just come back to life not too long ago, Rocket was in serious need of some alcohol. He was still bitter over the entire thing but he couldn't stay mad at Shepard because he knew it was an accident...

Still. Getting killed, and in such a demeaning way, really struck a nerve with the raccoon.

So he made his way to the bar, a place that was perfect for just forgetting things for awhile and pretending that life was good. Even if it wasn't exactly. The place definitely was designed for someone so small though but he managed and got himself a seat at the bar, tail flicking as his ears fell back a bit in a calm expression.

"So what do you lot have for organics?" he asked as he peered over at Dead End, one ear quirking slightly as he asked. "Hopefully something because, mate, I farkin' need it."

[dinnerdate]

An experienced bartender he was, but that was with fellow Cybertronians. With energon not with whatever it was organics consumed. He'd never even been to Earth, and when Sissel had been around he didn't eat or drink. Being a varren wasn't much help either. So as things stood he was in unknown territory, but there was no way he was going to mess anything up. At least he'd try not to, and well if he couldn't grasp organic drinks then he'd just stick to Chbertronian ones.

So when the little furry thing came in and took a seat he blinked, setting down what he was doing and heading over to him. It. Whatever it was.

"We, uh... Have a few things I think. You want to tell me what exactly you want, I can see if we have it."

[furryfarkinfiend]

"..Doubt you'd have anything I'm familiar with, from my space I mean so let's go with a beer of any sort? Earth stuff, weird tastin' but it'll do," Rocket says with a shrug, resting his paws on the counter afterwards.

"Didn't think you'd have much for us but fark do I need something."

[dinnerdate]

"Beer," he repeats with a nod. He could definitely check if they have any of that stuff.

"If it tastes bad why go with it?" Dead End calls back a question as he shuffles through the thugs the bar has to offer, looking for one of those beer things. When he finally found something that seemed to match what he was looking for he carefully picked it up and set it down in front of the furry thing.

"Anything that needs to be done with it? Never really served an organic before."

[furryfarkinfiend]

Rocket's tail flicks as the other goes searching for the beer, a soft snort escaping the raccoon as one paw slips away from the counter so he can wave it a bit.

"Because it's the only other thing I'm familiar with, mate. Our leader back home, Star Lord, was from Earth and was real fond of the farkin' stuff. Introduced him to better--stronger things though," Rocket mused with a bit of a smirk, ears perking as Dead End returned with a bottle.

The raccoon snagged it as he shook his head, taking a sip of it carefully.

"Nah, it's fine like this, mate."

[rungout]

Rung had never really been one for bars, not unless he was drug to one by a companion--like Kup--but given who the bartender was at this particular bar..well..

He made an exception and was becoming quite the regular customer.

Slipping inside, he beelined for the bar like he usually did, flashing Dead End a warm smile as he took a seat. The other was busy and he wasn't about to interrupt, figuring his lover would make his way over when he had a moment to.

[dinnerdate]

Whether Rung had chosen to visit the bar as a customer or not didn't matter to Dead End, what he appreciated was the simple fact that Rung just came to visit. It certainly wasn't expected of him, with the relationship they had or not. So when he spotted the therapist he gave a small smile back, finishing up what he was doing as quickly as he could so be could slip away.

"Rung!" he grinned as he slid up to the part of the bar the other had taken a seat at. "Not working?"

Not working was definitely a good thing, it meant he got a visit from Rung and he didn't have to worry about anything happening to him.

"Want anything?"

[rungout]

He'd be lying if he said he didn't like seeing Dead End happy like this. It brought a smile to his face, reaching over to touch the other's hand when he came close.

"No, not tonight. I ended early since I didn't have much going on," he mused, squeezing his lover's hand. "I thought I'd come see how you were doing."

Clearly the other was doing well and that made the therapist quite happy to see.

"A drink would be nice."

[dinnerdate]

The bartender's smile widens as Rung takes hold of his hand, happy for the contact - small as it is. It's really good to see Rung here, to have him right there.

"It's been an okay day so far... Haven't died, so that's good." That's about as positive as he gets honestly, but at least he's trying. Even if he only tries when Rung's around and the day hasn't been scrap.

"I'm... I'm glad you came. You always do make things better." And he means it. In so many ways did Rung help with just making things brighter when he was around. Thankfully making things brighter wasn't really all that involved with making things physically brighter, him being a mech preferring the dark.

Dead End rests his free hand atop Rung's giving a quick look around. "...Ever wanted to make your own drink?"

[rungout]

"Yes, well, that is a good thing. I'm rather fond of you being alive," Rung murmured, squeezing the other's hand again and clinging a bit. He still wants to eliminate that negativity completely one day but this is better than nothing.

If he could blush, Rung would be, but the flustered look probably expresses how he's feeling well enough. It's paired with an almost shy smile as he glances down, caressing his lover's hand a bit.

"I could say the same for you," he replied softly, glancing back at the other with a warm, loving sort of look.

And then there's a flicker of surprise.

"I...well, I suppose it could be interesting to learn."

[redshirtrobot]

Fracas has been here for months and yet has never actually set foot in the bar. He's not sure how that even happened, but he's decided he will rectify that today. With a new coat of paint, new wings, and his face exposed, he's feeling a little safer about being out. And besides, this is kind of a red-letter day, him taking his mask off. A Vehicon changing himself.

Even if he was changing because he'd panicked.

He knocks lightly on the bar once he's up to it, leaning slightly and offering a smile. "I've never been in before; what would you recommend?"

just smack me if this isn't okay and i'll change it

[dinnerdate]

After finishing up with one customer he heads over to the new guy to take his order and mix up the next drink. He blinks at the comment, not too often you run into someone who's never been in the bar before.

"Depends on what kind of flavor you like. You've had highgrade before right?" He'd be questioning if this mech didn't.

Speaking of this mech, there was something familiar about him. That voice, and something else. It takes him a moment, and an uncomfortably long moment of just staring at the mech's chest for something to click in his processor.

"...You guys have actual faces." He's still staring at that chest.

akdhsk this is great XD

[redshirtrobot]

Most of his drinking until now had been done with Shockwave, really... and trying to explain why he had to shove a straw into every drink would have been awkward, in the end. Not that he has to worry about that now. He nods briefly. "I have, yes." Only since he got here, though. High grade didn't often get to the Vehicons.

He pauses, shifting on his feet as Dead End just stares at his chestplate. Well, that was the one thing he really wasn't able to change. But Dead End having to spend this long on figuring it out was kind of an accomplishment. Yay!

... except that his chest is being talked to. One clawed hand moves in front of his chassis, finger pointing up. "We do. But they happen to be, ah. Up here."

8}

[dinnerdate]

"Didn't know that," he mutters. Never any reason to ask or check, and well when it came down it it, the only time he really hung out with a Vehicon was when he was eating one. And that really only involved paying attention to their power core, nothing else.

"Hm?" It takes Dead End a moment to look back up and away from Fracas' chest. "Sorry, just thinking. Never really eaten a green Vehicon before."

Bartender smile.

"So. What kind of drink you think you're looking for?"

[redshirtrobot]

"No one does." They weren't supposed to de-mask around non-Vehicons and even then Fracas had always been uncomfortable with the thought. Not just showing an obvious weakness but... it always felt too personal. Too intimate. Strange as it was, though, it was time.

Fracas quirks up one brow, tilting his head. "I'm not going to just let you eat me." Though now, he's considering a suggestion that was made to him. Hrm. Maybe in a bit.

"Well... if. You were making something for you, what would you make? Besides power cores." He's feeling adventurous enough to leave it up to the bartender.

[namesnotprowl]

Barricade keeps his own stock of energon in his quarters, which is what he mostly sticks to partaking of. He's even fair at mixing himself... mostly thanks to experimenting on Sacrosanct. But even he just occasionally wants someone else to fix something for him instead. Besides, he's an amatuer at it; everything is better when done by a professional.

Besides, it's a good excuse to check out the bar. He's been so busy that he hasn't.

He trots in, plating shifting slightly and wings flicking as he looks around. Not bad, not bad... and bartender. He puts on his most winning smile and leans against the bar. "You're Dead End, right?" Small talk first, drinks second.

[dinnerdate]

He doesn't really expect anyone to ask for him by name - unless it's Rung or Skids - nor does he really expect anyone to want to deal with him at all. Bartender or not, a lot of people hated him and he was pretty sure that it was only a matter of time until someone that really hated him came and and refused to order something because it was him working. They'd probably make a big fuss over it too.

And then he'd probably be fired.

It'd happen sooner or later.

So when the rather spikey looking mech comes in and asks if he's him. Well. He just nods slowly.

"Yeah."

[namesnotprowl]

Barricade recalls Dead End's admission over the network, and to be truthful, he was neither crazy nor bold enough to admit his own foibles publicly. He can appreciate that. And hasn't been overly concerned for life and limb in a long while. Besides, he doubts that Dead End could take him, power core-eating or no.

He could hardly whine about that anyway; he remembers rumors of his Megatron eating the sparks of his foes and was never certain if it was just a rumor or not.

"Figured; I recognized you from the Link. Don't think we've met yet. Designation's Barricade." He extends a hand for a shake.

Pleasantries are just what he does. Even with people that eat other people.

[dinnerdate]

It's mechs like Barricade that are the prime targets for draining during recharge - not that he'd even thought about it. He had his substitute that no one knew about, and he had Rung. Someone who he really needed to get around to informing about the substitute and not. Eating him. But that was something to think about for another day.

"I, uh... Hi," he responds back, wings drooping a little and looking rather sheepish.

Optics dart to the extending hand, but the Decepticon does nothing. It's not that he doesn't know what to do, but he just doesn't trust anyone. People don't act so nice to him - even in this job. He eats people, that doesn't get you handshakes unless someone is trying to kill him.

So staring awkwardly is a go.

[namesnotprowl]

Barricade is a bit of a light sleeper when he doesn't happen to have someone else around, which he hasn't in quite a while. Even if Deads was considering it, he'd be a slightly hazardous choice.

"You gonna leave me hangin'?" he inquires, smile not faltering for a second.

It's not his job to tell people off for their habits, so long as those habits aren't mucking in other Cybertronian's processors. Even if they might tell him off for his habit of torturing people... no, they would. They definitely would.

[im_wavin]

A certain Deceptikitty comes into the bar and looks around. It's been a while since Ravage has been here, and the first time he came here alone.

He hopes up onto the bar top and looks around before he spots the bar keep with the bright paint job. Of course, that means Ravage is going to wave at him.

"Hai!"

[dinnerdate]

It's pretty much never since he's been on this Cybertron that he's gotten such an enthusiastic and cheerful greeting. Consider what he is, he can't really blame anyone.

When he hears the hello he turns and heads over to the small mech, looks a lot like that medic that doesn't know how to take care of drinks properly, but sounds nothing like him. Maybe he was overcharged or something. Or shared a frame and colour scheme with someone. Not that he knew which it was.

"Hello," he says back in greeting. "What can I get you?"

[im_wavin]

Having two white jaguar's running around is bound to get confusing for some people, but Ravage doesn't realize that yet. He just smiles and looks behind the bar.

"Idk! What's good?" He almost never gets to drink anything high grade. Mostly because the other 'Cons back home won't let him for reasons that Ravage doesn't understand. But that's back home, and he is not back home. He had some at the party a while back, but he didn't know it was high grade at the time. Trying something on purpose shouldn't hurt, right?

[dinnerdate]

"Id...k?" Dead End's optics narrow. Whatever that means... It probably wasn't too important if the bot was asking what was good. Couldn't be, right?

Hopefully not.

"Well," he begins, wings perking slightly. "It's all on your taste preference. You like anything specific and I can probably make something to match it."

He probably could. If the bot didn't talk in more code or whatever that was.

[im_wavin]

Ravage doesn't even notices the bot's puzzlement as he looks behind the bar.

"I like all kinds of things! I wanna try something new."

He continues to look and points to one of the containers of energon. "Ooo! I wanna try that!"

It may or may not be one of the higher grades of energon and he may or may not have picked based on the bright color.