dissonates | [Voice/Action] backdated to Day 1 of the event until the end!

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[Voice/Action] backdated to Day 1 of the event until the end!

[Asch will be leaving a single message on the journal network on the evening of the first day, his voice flat:]

[Voice]

I know that the village is being its usual mad self this week, but Guy Cecil's gone back to his world. With the recent departures, Good Spirits is shorthanded.

[....oh, right.]

Also, considering the bar is in the area where alcohol is apparently prohibited, thieves have been after the stores. Most of the remaining supply's been hidden, but I could use help guarding it.

As far as I know, the journal network has always been for our eyes only, so if you want any for yourself and the staff doesn't recognize you, try to come up with something only one of us would know.

[After that, he won't be doing much exploration. Asch is having none of this silly experiment business; he woke up wearing this, and since his closet seems to be full of clothes either like it or much worse, he just rolls with it. He's been around the block before. He'll be staying in the bar pretty much 24/7 (besides food runs and emergencies) to make sure the collection doesn't get completely depleted; he may be a recently returned staff member himself, now, but the bar was important to Guy, so he can at least protect it for a while. Alcoholic drinks will be served through the back door to villagers only, so if you want some booze, better figure out a way to act convincing.]

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[Asch glances sidelong at her for that comment, pursing his lips as he pulls a few bottles from a cupboard in the back.]

...It's... fine. It's something to do, anyway.

[He knows that he's no replacement for Guy - he lacks the experience, for one, but there's also the fact that bartenders are commonly known to be social, good listeners, distributors of liquid comfort and advice. He's good for basically none of that.

But he learns fast, and really, he has a knack for putting up with plenty of pointless dialogue. He'd grown up in a church, after all. Maybe he'll manage.]

[ buffy doesn't look at him while she continues working. ]

...That's exactly why Guy asked me to work here in the first place, y'know. So long ago. As something to do. To take my mind off...

Well -- someone else's departure.

That's not why I'm here.

[It's a little defensive; he doesn't want anyone to assume he's here because he's upset. The job was open and he took it. He has little else with which to occupy himself. That's all.

But.

...still...]

...Who was it?

Honestly?

[ she tucks the tarpaulin under the barrels and winces -- inwardly -- at having raised the man's defences so clumsily. ]

He was someone I think I could've maybe loved, if I'd had the chance to know him longer. But the way things played out? Eh. It wasn't in the cards. So instead of sobbing, I started slinging drinks.

And I've hardly looked back since.

[...Hm. He's quiet for a long moment, trying very hard not to think about that and failing pretty miserably. It's becoming a familiar story, as far as he understands it. Rare is it for people to remain together for a very long time. It's why he can't take the marriages here seriously.]

This place is too dangerous for something as fragile as love.

[Still, at least she has some sense. Plenty of people around here don't have any at all.]

Well -- in Luceti terms, I was pretty darn rookie-tastic. Back then.

[ of course -- she thought she was in love now, too. but is also beginning to doubt its benefits.

just a little.

but a little is enough. ]

The optimist would tell you that true love is never, uhm, fragile.

I take it you're not an optimist, then.

[Considering the way she phrased it, at least.]

Honestly? I'm not sure what I am right now.

[ the girl's in flux. ] But even that's enough to know I'm not an optimist.

[He shrugs his shoulders.]

Whatever. Labels are pointless anyway.

So what does that make you? Label-free? No one gets to be label-free. Not really.

Probably not, but I don't bother coming up with them on my own. If someone wants to try and insult me by oversimplifying my existence like that, I have no obligation to respect them, either.

That's...a surprisingly healthy approach to take to the whole existential question, Asch. [ a beat. ] I think I might be envious.

[He's quiet for a moment at that, looking uncomfortable, then glances away.]

Don't envy me.

[ buffy -- ever prepared to combat awkwardness with humour -- quips: ] What? With your red locks so luxurious? Kinda impossible not to be jealous, Asch.

[...wh-what. What kind of response is that? Asch is momentarily taken aback.]

It's... it's not luxurious.

[ ...oh, asch. you're gonna have to get used to highly personal segues if you wanna keep working at the bar.

just wait for the first staff game of 'never have i ever'. ]

Radiant, then. [ cheeky. ]

[She's just asking for trouble.

But, no. She's probably teasing him. Guy did that a lot, but he can't exactly say he's used to it, either.]

Should I find you a thesaurus so you can go on?

...That would be most thoughtful of you, Asch. [ pause. ] Very considerate. Accommodating.

I think the word you're looking for is self-serving.

...Your accusation. Not mine.

[ curious, now. she grips the edge of a barrel and leans forward. ] You must have a favourite drink. Right? A favourite to imbibe and not to pour.

[Oof. The subject shifting habit of hers is appreciated but he's not used to the suddenness of it. Or maybe he's just not used to talking to people in general. Ugh, socializing is hard...]

I'm not so sure about that. I don't drink enough to have a favourite.

Forget favourites, then. What can you actually stomach? I'm a pansy with anything stronger than a very diluted white wine spritzer.

[ unless she's in a dark mood and then it's shots of whatever's on hand. she's been nearing that tipping point for a while, now. ]

[Okay, that's something he can actually answer.]

Wine is alright, and I can handle most cocktails as long as they have a decent flavour. Beer makes me ill, and shots are too strong too fast.

...Hah. What a pair of bartenders we make.

[ buffy is trying. she's making an effort. she and asch have never been buddy-buddy, but if they were to be coworkers...? she needs to have his confidence and he needs to have hers. she understands how a team works.

and suddenly, she's once again at its head. seniorest barstaff.

a sigh. ]

Luckily, we don't get too many cocktail drinkers. Most ask for a beer. Well or call shots. They try for top shelf but we don't always have it. And as far as I'm aware, we only have the one blood drinker in town at the moment -- and he likes to come in during my shift to be my personal heckler. So you might not even have to deal with him.

Blood doesn't really bother me anyway.

[Watching someone drink it sounds unpleasant, sure, but it's not like he'd have to even look after serving it. And he's washed blood out of plenty of things before, so glasses would be simple in comparison.]

Any troublemakers?

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