6th of Zi'da, Arc 720
The room held a multitude of aromas that ranged from the sickeningly sweet (yet acrid) tequila to body odor to lemon juice. The room also held boisterous laughter, the sound of a loud fart and the clinking of glassware.
Cierne was stationed not behind the bar but at the front doors, greeting people with her inept socialization skills.
“Welcome!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up to show her enthusiasm. Perhaps she was laying it on a bit too thick, but that’s what you get when you didn’t often interact with people aside from taking their drink requests.
Why her boss had her positioned at the front of the tavern was beyond her, but she knew it wouldn’t last very long. In exactly five minutes she would find her rightful place behind the bar serving drinks to various guests.
“Table or counter?” She asked with a forced smile. She was referring to whether the couple who had just entered wanted to sit and dine or simply grab a few drinks at the bar.
The man of the couple (though they were both men and uncannily similar in appearance so Cierne couldn’t describe much difference between them) pointed to the bar with a sharp stab of his index finger.
Cierne nodded her head and gestured for them to come in and find a stool.
Following the two men was another couple (though this time there was a man and a woman so Cierne could easily distinguish between the two if she was asked to). The man was tall and lanky while the woman was short and curvy.
“Welcome!” The Naer repeated, feeling her enthusiasm dwindle with each passing moment. “Table or counter?”
“Table please!” The woman responded with an exceeding amount of fervor that outmatched Cierne’s ten to one.
Cierne again gestured for them to come in, pointing them in the direction of an unoccupied table at the back of the tavern.
“Enjoy!” She shouted, as the din in the room had increased.
“Constance!”
The Naer turned quickly at the sound of her alias. She scanned the room for the source of the voice and found her employer waltzing towards her with long strides. His beard was trimmed eloquently tonight, she noticed, though his head still bore no hair.
“I’ll take over from here,” he told her, shooing her to the bar with the flick of his hand.
Once she was behind the bar, she went straight to work preparing some glasses for the requests she would no doubt receive momentarily.
As predicted, a large party of five gathered around the counter in front of her. It was astonishing how they all managed to find a stool. The night had yet to be busy, but the counter was not known to be spacious.
“Shots of tequila all around,” declared one of the group members. He appeared to be an Ellune; he stood around eight feet tall and had an ashy tone to his skin (which looked rough if not a bit pasty). His hair was long and black and was mounted up on his head with the aid of a ponytail giving it the resemblance of a bun.
Cierne was awestruck by his appearance for a moment. She hadn’t seen anyone quite like this person before though she had heard tales of such people.
One of her coworkers bumped into her accidentally, snapping her back to attention. She was thankful for the interruption or else she probably would have looked like a fool had she spent another minute staring.
She turned to the counter behind her and its display of all the utensils she needed to prepare drinks. She grabbed five small clean glasses used specifically for shots and placed them out in front of her. She then grabbed a new bottle of tequila (the one currently in use had grown a thin rim of encrusted… something around it’s mouth) and a jigger and poured exactly three ounces (or three jigger’s worth) into each glass.
She hadn’t exactly poured shots for anyone before, but she had seen her coworkers perform the duty on numerous occasions. The quantity looked about right to her.
“Psst.” Delilah’s harsh whisper rose above the noise in the tavern. “You don’t have to measure out the exact quantity for shots. It saves time if you just fill the shot glass half full.”
The woman hurriedly came up beside Cierne and demonstrated for her. The Naer watched as she deftly poured out the aforementioned amount. Both her glass and Delilah’s held about the same amount of liquid though Delilah’s technique was done in record time.
“Thanks,” Cierne said, throwing her coworker a smile before taking over.
She finished the remaining drinks using the strategy Delilah showed her. It was much quicker and gave her the ability to listen in on the party’s conversation behind her.
Turning to offer the group their shots, she caught a few words from the Ellune.
“I heard he hung himself,” he said softly before thanking Cierne for his drink.
One of the girls gasped while another interjected with her own theory. “His parents were so terrible, he wrote a letter explaining everything they did to him before he ended it.”
Cierne’s eyes went wide, an absentminded action that earned her a look from one of the group members.
“I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear this,” said one of the girls in response to Cierne’s visible shock.
“I should be sorry. One of your friends killed themselves?” She was attempting to learn more about the situation by asking an indirect question rather than bluntly inquiring about someone’s suicide.
The Ellune piped up. “No, no, not one of our friends, but a local boy.”
“I hadn’t heard of something so horrible,” Cierne admitted, grabbing a dirty glass from beside her. She started to clean it with a used dish rag, giving her hands something to do while she continued to implore the group of their gossip.
Another guy, who was sitting just to the right of the Ellune, slammed down his empty shot glass, a common way to request a refill.
“We should protest or something!” He announced with wild eyes.
Before anyone had the chance to say something, Cierne interjected. “That sounds like a good idea. Against child abuse, right? Have you lost someone to suicide?”
The man looked at her and narrowed his eyes. He was obviously not too keen on being interrogated about his personal life.
“No,” he deadpanned.
Thankfully, one of the girls came to the Naer’s aid and redirected the conversation away from her. “I just can’t imagine if something like that happened to my brother. I mean, he’s ten!”
Cierne watched as the Ellune took his shot. He held such an impressive stoic face when the Naer knew better than anyone that straight liquor was usually foul.
“Can I have a glass of spiked cider?” He asked, looking Cierne over with intrigue.
She nodded her head and took his empty shot glass. Finding a new glass, she set to work making his drink.
Because the days continued to grow colder, spiked cider had become a popular drink amongst the patrons of the tavern. Cierne had watched it being made countless times and knew the basic steps.
She poured a generous amount of rum into the awaiting glass before topping it off with apple cider so the liquid was a few inches from overflowing. There were several sticks of cinnamon placed in a jar on the counter beside her, just ripe for the choosing. She plucked two out and set them gently inside the glass before finishing the drink off with an orange slice.
She turned back to the party and slid the drink to the Ellune.
“House favorite for the season,” she announced with a smile.
He took a small sip of his drink and reeled back with obvious delight.
“This is amazing!” He announced, following up his sip with several more.
“I may have to try some of that,” chided the girl with the ten year old brother.
The Ellune offered her his drink. The girl grimaced after she tried it. “To spicy for me,” she admitted before going back to talking about the previous hot gossip.
“There was another case of suicide from a young girl a few seasons ago,” she began.
Cierne listened intently. She obtained a dirty glass and the same dirty dish rag she had used to clean with earlier and set her hands to work. She wanted to look busy in case her employer came by. What really interested her at this moment was the party’s gossip. One thing bartenders always had the luxury of doing was listening in on conversations without seeming rude. I mean, if you’re talking loudly right in front of one, they can’t be held liable for eavesdropping!
“I don’t think her parents were abusive though,” countered one of the men.
“Still, it’s beginning to be a problem.”
“Mental health should be more of a priority, especially after that earthquake in Vhalar,” Cierne mentioned, interjecting herself nonchalantly.
Her eyes were focused on cleaning the dirty glass in her hand, her body posture slackened with a shrug to further her look of disinterest, when in reality, she couldn’t have been more invested in the conversation.
“I agree!” Piped up the man who had eyed her warily only moments ago. “Another shot, if you may.”
Cierne took the bottle of tequila from behind her and poured his drink to the brim.
“Now about those protests,” the Naer continued, leaning over the countertop. She raised her eyebrow and smiled.
“Right, so…”
And thus the gossip continued along with some hypothetical planning for the next ten minutes before Cierne’s attention was pulled away to a new guest and their drink request.
Oh, how she loved working at the tavern!
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