#earthrunes

He brews.

He gives her a wide grin, genuinely pleased as her willingness to experiment. "Now this, I brought with me, from the land of my youth. In the South of Africa, where the Marula trees grow... just once a year do they bear fruit, and the great old tuskers will travel miles to pick up the fruit and enjoy them, fermented in the sun's heat..."

Strange, that this rare and ancient liquor also seems to have a matching bottle, much newer, on the shelf behind the bar, should one look. But, that is surely splitting hairs.

She raises a thin eyebrow, but seems more amused than anything.

Bachdion enjoys the last of his beer, amusement in his eyes at Vince's story

He pours a small amount of the rich cream liqueur, from this bottle rather soured and.. is that a clot that splashes as he pours it, into a shot glass and slides this towards to sluagh. "If the lady takes cream in her tea, it might go down a treat." And, with a deft hand, he cracks the other bottle, the fresh one, and pours a little into a glass for August as well.

"A gentleman never lets a lady drink alone." He says, with a pious air, having noted the TWO teacups.

She takes the glass and gives its contents a delicate sniff. "Interesting. And... worth a try, nu?"

August seems to take refuge in brewing tea, then looks at the new cup. "Oh. Ah. Ok. If... ok." He takes it and lifts, sniffs...... sips.

Bachdion kens the drinks

(They are both just normal liquor!)

He slides both shotglasses of cream liquor over to set next to each teacup, in front of the sluagh and sidhe respectively.

((Now, sips))

"Ah, pardon...." Zara gently switches the shot glasses.

(Alas! he is too quick for you!)

Bachdion looks at his beer

Or she's too late. Who knows?

Let's assume everyone gets the drink they were supposed to?

"Oh, my! Thank you, lass, I must have mistaken the glasses there. Too much sun, it addled my head today. Thank you for catching that."

His tail swishes, and his face shows all contrition.

I will happily concede Zara was too fast for August to match....

She adds the lumpy liqueur to her tea.

August watches the fast-switch with confusion, then nods. When it is safe, he tries it.

The addition would be lovely with tea, especially with a green tea leaf that lends well to tropical flavors. Amarula is a sweet and creamy liqueur, is made with sugar, cream, and the Amarula tree fruit. Unlike many other cream liqueurs, Amarula is not made from a whisky or brandy base, and has a hint of an exotic, tropical taste. In Zara's case, the milk has soured and clotted, and the fruit tinge is almost an over ripe, cloying flavor that many would find stomach-turning.

August frowns, tasting. "It's ... sweet. Strong."

"I think it would go nicely with tea, if you don't prefer black - some take it straight, over ice... me? I prefer, a saucer..."

August glances at Zara, and her cup, and the pours his drink into his own tea.

"But do you like it?"

Zara's grey lips tug into a little smile after a test sip.

"It is nice. Tropical. Mayhaps worthy of an umbrella. Is it meet to put one in a teacup?"

"Fiona holds are notoriously experimental, if not here, where?" Bachdion smiles

She perches on one of the stools, cradingling her drink with both hands. "Bronte is reading. I suspect I shan't go until she finishes."

August grins, sitting next to her. "What is she reading?"

"Certainly, I'd recommend it with tea, and one MUST have a teacup for tea, otherwise it would be simply uncouth." He is sipping his beer now, pinky up.

A sigh. "Another Russian."

"White, or black? He asks, all innocence.

"-Another?-"

"Bronte is young I take it? The young tend to latch onto what is new and interesting to them with a tenacity, often reluctant to spread out"

"She's been on a kick. And... well, Earl thought her too young for Russians, but it was either that or Ayn Rand..."

August looks alarmed. "Rand?"

"And now, it's all she wants. But Chekhov should be fairly light, for a change."

He stifles a chuckle behind his beer, and then is mixing again behind the bar...

"Aye, you see? She is too innocent for such material. She must needs be inoculated by authors with grace and generosity of spirit..."

August nods, sips his tea, and checks the cup. Remembers. "Right, well... good. Have you considered the poets, perhaps?"

Bachdion nods

And, a white russian offered to Bachdion in one hand, a white russian in the other. Whichever one not taken, Vince will sip on himself, quietly observing the literary conversation.

"I have. And currently - short stories. It's not War and Peace, ay yi yi..."

August nods. "Poetry, short stories... yes, good." He grins. "She's a dear thing. Oh, hey, where's Earl?"

He glances at the door as if he expects the troll to enter.

"He said he had an adventure..."

"Oh?"

The troll enters.

Earl looks around, "Zara? oh, thank goodness. I got completely lost in here'