raza
I know my bar is the place to be, but I’m not about to say why. Or that I encourage it, because of a certain, ah, magic earring. I hear all. So of course, yes, this is the place to be.
I watch the white-white girl with a patient expression, putting on a practiced bartender face until she decides what she wants. Hoa has kind of curled up by her, no longer asking to be touched, just happy to be involved with whatever is going on between us. Something sweet, hmm? I’ve got just the thing. With a snap of my fingers, I turn to the various bottles behind me. Some have labels, some don’t - some are known to me purely by their color and bottle type, made locally and distributed by what we would now call craft distilleries. Or moonshiners. Whatever.
Pulling out a bottle with things floating in it, I place a strainer over a glass and pour the wine-dark liquid into a cup. Unfortunately, the filtered bottle I had was used up a few nights ago. This is all the mamajuana we’ve got at the moment - it’s a more authentic version, but uh, might have some bits floating in it. I give her just a splash at first, to see if it’s sweet enough. The smell of alcohol, honey, and maybe even herbs wafts upwards
“Try this.” Pushing the short glass towards Maea, I wait to see what she thinks.
I watch the white-white girl with a patient expression, putting on a practiced bartender face until she decides what she wants. Hoa has kind of curled up by her, no longer asking to be touched, just happy to be involved with whatever is going on between us. Something sweet, hmm? I’ve got just the thing. With a snap of my fingers, I turn to the various bottles behind me. Some have labels, some don’t - some are known to me purely by their color and bottle type, made locally and distributed by what we would now call craft distilleries. Or moonshiners. Whatever.
Pulling out a bottle with things floating in it, I place a strainer over a glass and pour the wine-dark liquid into a cup. Unfortunately, the filtered bottle I had was used up a few nights ago. This is all the mamajuana we’ve got at the moment - it’s a more authentic version, but uh, might have some bits floating in it. I give her just a splash at first, to see if it’s sweet enough. The smell of alcohol, honey, and maybe even herbs wafts upwards
“Try this.” Pushing the short glass towards Maea, I wait to see what she thinks.
