[pub spam/ota]

[can_has_vodka]

 [Arkady can't sleep, so she's in the Pub late, mixing drinks and then teleporting them over to the tables. She's still having trouble walking more than a few steps, and leans on whatever is nearby when she stands. For once her exhaustion and stress is as plain on her face as the bruises against her pale skin.]

Comments

[can_has_vodka]

Yum, mostly. It's equal parts creme de cacao, creme de menthe and fresh cream, shaken with crushed ice and served in a chilled glass.

[trenchcoatedly]

That does sound good.

How did you become the bartender? Were you so in your home universe?

[can_has_vodka]

Oh no, I was just a psychonaut there. The thing is though that I have no psychology experience in the formal vein, so I couldn't go and be the Barge shrink. But actually a lot more people are comfortable confiding to their bartender than a therapist, so I took it up. And I found that I love it. I study drinks every night, especially when I have no Inmate.

[trenchcoatedly]

I see. It seems to be a very interesting job, at least. Not only do you get to hear people talk about themselves, but you've also gained a new and useful portfolio of information regarding alcohol.