06-28-2023, 02:36 AM
The bar was middle of the road. Not shitty enough to be a regular dive. Probably no illegal recs being dealt behind the bar. Definitely not the kind of place to hook up in the bathroom. Then again, last time he was in a place like that, he was almost eaten by one of Sybaris’s relatives. Major buzz kill. Best lay of his life was after that, though. Ahh, Zef. That made him wonder when their next round was. Damn. But imagine Jaxen having to actually keep a calendar for something! It was worth it though. He downloaded the calendar app just for that one date.
So the bar wasn’t a dive like devil’s lair, but neither was it dripping in gold like Manifesto. It wasn’t a nightclub. But at the door, Jaxen surveyed the entrance with hands on his hips and a sword belted at his leg. He found the sparkling bottles behind the bar satisfactory, though, and followed Mik to their stools. The first round was on him, as promised.
“Bóodeem zdaróvye!” he replied, clunked the glass on the bartop and knocked it back. It wasn’t a thousand dollar bottle of vodka, not like the one he wasted on Toma, but it did the job just fine enough for Jaxen. Next round he ordered a glass, on ice, with lime like a proper Russian boy. That he sipped.
He guffaw’d at the question. “Bah, i’m no billionaire. My father is, but hell if I am. My trust has been shut off so many times I don’t even know if I will wake up tomorrow with a dollar to my name. But no point worrying about it today, eh brother?!” he laughed.
“You can say I was suckered on a bait and switch to go,” he pulled the wallet from the pocket of his snug pants and showed Mikhail the advertisement that lured him in the first place. Hot princess elf girl was featured prominently.
“And some research… Nerds know the most about this kind of shit, and well, I was out of ideas,” he pat the sword which was still prominently belted at his waist. The tip of it kept banging into the stool when he moved. “Seriously? How are you suppose to sit around with one of these on?” He smirked. “You though? You a regular or something?”
So the bar wasn’t a dive like devil’s lair, but neither was it dripping in gold like Manifesto. It wasn’t a nightclub. But at the door, Jaxen surveyed the entrance with hands on his hips and a sword belted at his leg. He found the sparkling bottles behind the bar satisfactory, though, and followed Mik to their stools. The first round was on him, as promised.
“Bóodeem zdaróvye!” he replied, clunked the glass on the bartop and knocked it back. It wasn’t a thousand dollar bottle of vodka, not like the one he wasted on Toma, but it did the job just fine enough for Jaxen. Next round he ordered a glass, on ice, with lime like a proper Russian boy. That he sipped.
He guffaw’d at the question. “Bah, i’m no billionaire. My father is, but hell if I am. My trust has been shut off so many times I don’t even know if I will wake up tomorrow with a dollar to my name. But no point worrying about it today, eh brother?!” he laughed.
“You can say I was suckered on a bait and switch to go,” he pulled the wallet from the pocket of his snug pants and showed Mikhail the advertisement that lured him in the first place. Hot princess elf girl was featured prominently.
“And some research… Nerds know the most about this kind of shit, and well, I was out of ideas,” he pat the sword which was still prominently belted at his waist. The tip of it kept banging into the stool when he moved. “Seriously? How are you suppose to sit around with one of these on?” He smirked. “You though? You a regular or something?”