Bastien
Bastien sighed and nodded at Vervain's confirmation of what he had already half-known; that there was no way back home. His next drink was served with a lackluster smile as he thought of everything he would miss. Paintings, chocolates, walking by the Campanile Di San Marco in the square with a companion...
Still, acknowledgement of his performing skills brought a smile to his face. With a laugh he tossed a bottle in the air (making sure the top was in tight first) and caught it after it span several times.
"Yes, you may not have realised but you have one of the Commedia d’Arte troupe with you himself, straight from the carnival!" He had not actually performed in a Carnival for many years, but the skills had stayed with him. "I have always lived to serve and entertain." With a wink he slid a glass of something reminiscent of Whiskey down the bar.
The crowd was thinning a little and Bastien took a moment to lean forward and take his own glass back, drinking from it and letting the bitter taste hit his tongue. "The ale here tastes almost like home. Perhaps we can be transported back through the simple pleasures of the flesh, eh?...I have struggled to find much food around here though, to remind me of home or no." It was a badly veiled hint, but the rumbling in his stomach was not allowing much time for clever turns of phrase.
