tampered | Log; open

Tony wasn't sure about the slicked back hair, or the suspenders, although he supposed they worked better than the belts he was having to wear lately. Formal wear just wasn't him thing and he always felt awkward in anything more dressy than jeans and a t-shirt. It was a small comfort that this was more a costume party than anything else, so he wasn't supposed to look like he belonged in such an outfit.

He worked the bar which was busy and bustling and louder than usual but that was okay. It was an easy kind of loudness, not a pushy kind. Money flitted across the bar and into the cashbox, as well as many bills into the tip jar which pleased Tony immensely. He wanted a nice chunk of change to put towards the Welcome Center.

Every so often, Tony's eyes would stray to the watch on his wrist and then out to the dance floor. He'd be getting a break soon and then there'd be his own chance to mingle and join in the loudness. A crowd with an easy vibe was always a welcome distraction and Tony was ready to let his hair down. As much as it could be when slicked back, that is.

For Robin's part, he looked like he belonged in nearly anything, not least among these a pair of expensive suspenders and oiled hair. He also had lived through the twenties and certainly felt like he belonged in a crowd, as well as at a bar, so it was all around a very workable night for the puck, who was feeling very much himself. Which meant finding his way to the bar where Tony was now working at the height of the night, already with plenty drink in him but room for much more.

At the moment his mark was the tip jar, which he had recently seen some hefty, larger bits of cash dropped into recently; easier to make stealing them worthwhile. He waited until Tony looked swamped and distracted by his watch before sidling onto a seat near the jar and reaching two scissoring fingers into the slit on the top, resting his chin casually against the back of his other wrist, propped up on the bartop.

Tony collected another set of coins from the bar top along with an empty glass and juggled the two as he moved over to the cash box. The extra change he closed between his teeth, as he'd run out of hands for the moment and when he turned to drop off the coin into the tip jar he almost swallowed it instead.

"Robin!"

Don't go choking, Tony. Imagine how awkward it would be if Robin Goodfellow had to give you CPR. Robin didn't even have the shame or decency to look startled, or guilty, for being caught in the act. He didn't even remove his fingers from the jar and, instead, turned his head slowly to look at the other man with a small but wicked, pointed little smile and half-lidded eyes. He was, in fact, particularly drunk. But still more than sober enough to function, clearly.

"Look, he knows his shapes. I am so proud."

Edited 2009-09-11 06:28 (UTC)

Tony's eyebrows went up and he put the glasses in his hands down so he could smack the puck's hands away from the cash.

"That's for charity," he scolded, the words muffled around the coin between his lips. "And no, you don't count."

Robin cradled the smacked hand against his chest for a few seconds, shooting Tony a look that had the very honest heat of offense in it, before settling back down like a stroked cat, fingers moving to re-settle his shirt collar around his shoulders.

"I am nobody's charity case anyway. I have pride and standards and such, as well as a decent life and, you know, good strong social connections and other necessary things which one needs. But if the money in the jar is for charity, who is that for?"

One eye caught the coin barely caught between Tony's teeth with a hint of impish mischief before he darted from his seat to press his own very inebriated lips against Tony's, nipping away the colored coin. He reased that he wouldn't get in too horribly much trouble-- he was being good for a puck and what Ishiah couldn't see couldn't hurt Robin.

Edited 2009-09-11 06:45 (UTC)

Tony's squeak of surprise was loud enough to be heard over the music and he pulled back with a hand covering his mouth way too late.

"You give that back," he demanded, cheeks red with embarrassment, mostly because of the reaction he'd had, not because of the public impromptu kissing. He hadn't been expecting that, although knowing the puck as long as he had now he really should have known better, and he could taste the alcohol from Robin's lips on his own.

"I thought you weren't allowed to do that anymore. On pain of fiery death or something?"

Tony's surprise was enough to bring a bark of a laugh out of the corner of Robin's mouth, his own teeth still clenched around the coin. His voice came a little slurred, from the alcohol and from the way he kept his jaw taught around the ill-got gains. He did plan to give it back to Tony, as teasing was a reward of its own, and just as fun, but Tony wouldn't be so teasable if Robin let on. Why ruin that fun prematurely.

"Why should I? Finders keepers. I stole it fair and square, like that kiss."

He leaned forward on the bartop, not caring if any other customers might roll up.

"And I am not allowed to do that...I think. But he is a giant cock, not a giant psychic, and what he does not know he does not know, am I right or am I right?"

"You're drunk is what you are," Tony pointed out. "And I'm stealing that back."

He just had to figure out the best way to do so. Obviously prying it from between Robin's teeth wasn't the best course of action. He talked while he considered other options.

"I thought you liked giant cocks."

"How can you tell?" Robin asked the question perhaps to be ironic, making sure to lean forward enough that Tony could definitely smell all of the maltose on his breath-- and probably out of his pores at this rate. He chomped on the coin slightly once and then tucked a single curl that escaped behind his ear for the moment, folding his arms over the bar and simpering with all of his might.

"I do. I like them in my mouth and up my ass and between my thighs and in my armpit and an amazing variety of other places but I do not like them getting on my complete lack of a conscience. And may I just stress how completely in the lacking department my non-existent conscience is?"

The fumes were enough to make the eyes water, really. Tony leaned back slightly.

"Your conscience might be non-existent, but mine isn't." Tony didn't know a whole lot about Robin's new beau, but he did gather that Ishiah wasn't the kind of person who didn't mind his boyfriend kissing someone else even as a joke. He was a little worried that the fiery death would extend to him too.

"And anyway, that wasn't a very good kiss."

"Yours?" Robin blinked glazed, inebriated eyes which were suddenly owlish, halfway startled. He took the coin out of his mouth and tucked it safely behind the same ear he toyed with a moment ago.

"Do not feel all nervous and guilty on Ishiah's account. Everything pisses him off. He wakes up in the morning pissed off and it is all downhill from there, believe you me."

Relaxing, he considered Tony, raking him up and down and then staring over his shoulder at the lines of glass bottles on the wall.

"And anyway, it was not a kiss. It was hazing. An expression of affectionate teasing. Now get me a drink, do your job."

"Strangely enough, hearing that he's always pissed off isn't making me less nervous," Tony said dryly as he moved to flip the empty glasses into the pile for cleaning with practiced ease.

The clean glass for Robin he called to his hand without really thinking about it.

"What do you want?"

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Penny, coaxed out of her corner of mope by Sorrow, approached the bar and Tony (who, until Sorrow had provided his name, had been referred to as "The Cute Bartender Who Is Probably Either Taken or Gay" in her head), shoving a couple of dollars into the tip jar.

"Hey. I'm told you're the guy to go to for a drink?"

Tony looked up at the girl and offered her a smile, since she seemed a little nervous. He could jive with that. Costume parties weren't everyone's thing and the weird clothes alone were enough to make him itch.

"That's right. What can I get you?"

"Something fruity?" How sad was it that she couldn't remember what her favorite drink was? College hadn't been that long ago. "Preferably nothing that'll encourage karaoke or anything else I'll have to repress."

There were loads of fruity drinks. Girls usually wanted the ones that didn't taste like alcohol and came with little umbrellas anyway, so Tony wasn't that surprised by the request.

"Blue's not big on karaoke on principle anyway," he said, scooping some ice into a glass and deciding on sangria for her.

"Virgin?"

"Good for him! He wouldn't want to drive business away like that." She watched the counter top to avoid anything awkward, like... eye contact. "Nah. I'll live dangerously."

"We've got plenty of actual singers to fill in the space, anyway."

Tony tumbled some fruit into the bottom of the glass with the ice and added the wine and club soda, orange juice and honey and the barest splash of brandy. And a little umbrella spearing a cherry, of course.

"Here you go," Tony said, placing the drink in front of her with a little flourish. "It's the fruitiest drink I know except for those ones that get served in a giant pineapple."

Penny took the drink and tried to remember which pocket she'd put her money in. "Thank you... Tony, right?"

"That's right. Are you a friend of Blue's?"

"It's nice to meet you, Tony. I'm... yes? I hope so." She tried her drink. Perfect--the alcohol was completely masked by fruity goodness. "This is really, really good."

Penny retrieved a yellow and set it on the counter. Hopefully that was enough; the rainbow money system still made no sense. "Oh! I'm Penny. Sorry... the whole in-person social exchange thing is new and exciting after spending so much time on the network."

"It's nice to meet you too, Penny." Tony beamed at her approval of his drink-making abilities and wondered why the name was familiar.

"I'm sure if you consider Blue a friend, then he considers you a friend. He's a great guy that way."

"You're a friend of Blue's, too? He's... I don't even know. He offered to donate any money made tonight to the Welcome Center, which is... I mean, considering I have no idea what I'm doing and I haven't known him that long? It's amazing."

Tony's eyes widened.

"Oh, you're that Penny," he said, knowing he'd heard the name somewhere before.

He indicated the brimming tip-jar which she'd put money into a few moments before.

"Those'll be yours then. I told Blue I'd donate my tips tonight to help out."

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