roadrunnermuses | for Wizera } { random rp shenanigans

Once upon a time, he would have thought that the rift was screwing with him, sending him to a place with large masses of water everywhere. In fact, he thinks that he can remember, arriving here of all places after the end of the world, cursing everything that this place chose to be. It's missing a few crucial things that Alexander needs to survive, that he can't make it without, but at the end of the day, he grieved, he grew up, and he stayed.

After all, it's not like he has Chicago to go back to.

He even comes to appreciate the water after a while, building a kind of tiki bar on the shore where he totally doesn't run a slightly less legal business out of the back room, but you can consider that a byproduct of how he was raised. Abernathy men never really stayed on the straight and narrow for too long, after all.

Still, most people around there know him as the friendly bartender of Midnight Mimosas, famous for his more flashy (and flammable) drinks, and practically (not) a pillar of the community.

Nothing at all wrong with that.

As she padded barefoot across the soft and warm sand, Jasmine Flower of the River Banks couldn't help but marvel at its color. She'd never seen black sand before. Or sand so fine. It felt like silk between her toes. Better than. Almost like some sort of thick liquid. The feeling was completely disconcerting.

And she loved it.

After all, it was new.

Of course, everything was new to her. Ever since she'd arrived in this...place. Where ever it was. She was greeted almost every morning by new and bewildering surprises. Most of them much, much bigger than the feeling of sand between her toes. The tavern, for one. She'd never seen one like it!

Curiously, she started trotting across the sand, her thick, black braid bouncing against her back. Her enthusiasm set her apart, made her far more out of place than her linen tunic and her bronze sword.

Alexander glances up as she walks in the door, a warm smile stretching across his face as he sees her. Then again, he always has warm smiles for pretty girls. He's already reaching for a glass behind the bar, almost as though he's magically aware of exactly what she wants to drink and leans forward once she's close enough.

"What can I get you?"

The stranger's smile caught Jasmine Flower of the River Banks off guard a little bit. She wasn't used to men who smiled. Not lately, anyway. Ever since she and Percy had left home, she'd seen more than her fair share of scowling faces. Everyone seemed so unhappy all the time. It was refreshing to see something different.

...even if it did put her on her guard just a little bit.

She couldn't say why.

"I don't know," she said, walking closer to the countertop. She'd practiced keeping her Egyptian accent reined in, but it snuck out a little on her vowels. "What are you offering?"

"Well, we have a number of assorted spirits and liquors for you to choose from," he says with a nod as he leans forward to let his elbows rest against the bar. "It just depends if you like something fruity, something with a little bite, or something with a little spice."

Alexander's accent is still strictly Chicagoan, something he never intends to let go of for as long as he can. It helps remind him of where he's come from, and hopefully take him back to somewhere where he can be again.

She nodded slightly, mostly to pretend she understood. The truth of the matter--which was blindingly obvious to most--was that Jasmine Flower of the River Banks had little experience with spirits.

Or taverns.

Or much of anything. At least, anything away from the compound where she was brought up.

But she was learning. And learning fast. Both the truth and how to fake it.

"Something with a little spice," she said raising her chin defiantly.

"Spice, I can do," he says with a nod, before reaching for one of the glasses nearby and starting to fix her a Cinnamon Old Fashioned with the ingredients he has behind the bar. He will gesture for her to sit to wait and offers her a small smile as he goes.

"I'm Alexander."

Jasmine neatly and daintily settled herself on the stool nearest him, watching with wide-eyed wonder as he combined all those bits and pieces to create something entirely new. She'd never had much of an aptitude for cooking or brewing. Of course, she'd done her part to help the other women. But they tended to prefer she keep far, far away from the stills.

She smiled slightly at this name, familiar despite the strange and alien surroundings. "That's a beautiful name," she told him, nodding with absolute sincerity. "Are you a warrior?"

After all, it meant 'defender of men' in Greek. And he looked Greek.

Alexander considers for a moment as he mixes the drinks, moving with practiced ease and muscle memory that comes with years of mixing drinks. Technically he's not a warrior, not even close, but the title sounds cool, if only for a moment.

"Nope. Unfortunately I am just a bartender. Why do you ask?"

"Well, your name is Alexander," she replied, innocent and sincere. "I thought that people might call you that for a reason."

She paused, her face falling a little. "Have I offended you? I didn't mean to offend you, if I did. I'm so, so, so sorry!"

And she started to look scared.

"Oh! No, no, no," he shakes his head as he waves a hand. "No, not at all. I just think ... I'm missing something you know that I don't."

"Well, I doubt that very much," Jasmine said, calming down visibly.

It wasn't that she was stupid. Far from it. But Jasmine knew full and well that she was naive. She'd only just begun to understand the larger world. A lot of it didn't make sense to her. Why should the wife walk three steps behind the husband, if they were both perfectly capable of sharing the path? And why was a host expected to just give gifts to a guest, especially if that guest was a complete stranger?

All the rules were deeply, deeply confusing.

"Well, why does my name make you think that I'm a warrior?" Because that's the part that he was missing. He doesn't think she's naive or stupid, he's just thinking that there's a context clue that would make that statement make sense.

She frowned a little, brow all furrowed. "Your name is 'Alexander,'" she repeated. "It means 'protector of men.' At least, in the Achaean principalities, it does."

And it was around then that the question finally occurred to her. Perhaps she should have thought of it sooner.

"Where, exactly, are we?"

"Oh." That makes a lot more sense. "Sorry. My dad must have had high expectations. I'm not really from a world of warriors." Which isn't entirely true of Chicago, but for right now, it's true enough. "And I'm not really sure. They say it has a lot of different names, but for right now, I'm just calling it home."

"A place with many names? Well, it must be a very important place, then." Jasmine was the only djinn, as far as she knew, who had a name at all. Father would tease that it was because she was a very important djinn. But as she'd grown and seen a little more of the world, she'd come to understand the importance of names.

Even if they weren't entirely accurate.

Because not from a world of warriors? Did such a world exist?

No, Alexander wasn't from a world of warriors. He was from a world of angels and demons, werewolves and vampires. Holes in the universe bring people from different worlds every day and force them to adapt and adjust. There's always something new at their disposal, one way or another.

You could almost say he's from a world that's a bit like a patchwork quilt. All the different pieces make up a very complex and eclectic whole.

"I wouldn't be able to tell you either way. I just popped up in the lake one day."

"So did we!" Even if he couldn't answer her questions, there was something exciting about finding someone in a similar situation.

And wasn't that the first step to making friends?

She seemed to remember Father saying something like that.

"We were on a ship heading for Ithaca when...well, it doesn't really matter what happened. But the next thing we knew, POOF! We were by the lake and it was just so beautiful and..." She shrugged. "And here I am!"

"Mine was a bit more complicated than that," he says with a cringe. "As far as I know, I'm the only one here from my universe. None of the people I was with at the time showed up."

That sounded like it could be lonely. But Jasmine and Percy weren't much better off. And they somehow always managed to get by.

"I guess that just means you need to meet new people," she said, nodding serenely.

He grins a bit at that, before nodding and lifting a glass from behind the bar. "To new friends, then."

Jasmine wasn't at all familiar with his custom of raising a glass, but eager as ever to learn new things she copied him.

And wondered how long they were supposed to just stand there like that.

She won't have to wonder for long. As soon as she raises the glass, he'll clink his against hers, before bringing it to his lips and finishing the rest. "Cheers."

for Wizera } { random rp shenanigans

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject