Installment #3! We’re still at it. Remember, message me or reblog with any suggestions you have to the storyline. Anything you want to ask, or learn about? Go nuts!
As always, remember to keep up with the stories with #starsrestcantina.
You finishing mixing up the cocktail for the Jemell seated at the bar. One of your tentacles, wrapped firmly around the neck of the bottle with the purple liqueur, moves over to the array of flavors and slots it into a free space. What you’ve mixed is a rather sour concoction, but it should taste lovely. It smells incredibly fruity. You slide the drink toward him and ask him for his name.
“Quile Povani,” he says. His mouth tentacles wiggle as he takes the glass into his hand. He continues to grip the stylus in his other hand. He takes a large gulp and shudders slightly.
A guttural “Delicious!” rings out from his mouth.
He asks for your name.
“Jaal Vem” you say.
“Well, Jaal Vem, this is one of those delightful things I’ve ever tasted. It’s fantastic.”
You feel a swell of pride. Between you and your partner, Jef, you’ve always considered yourself the better of the bartenders. It’s good to have even more evidence of this.
Another patron, a Gomben, clearly tipsy, arrives at the bar, asking for a pickled egg. You complete the transaction and he fumbles his egg, dropping it to the floor with a splat. You take pity on the regular and toss him another. He smiles, sniffs from his elongated proboscis, and makes his way back to his corner, nearly tripping on a chair.
You turn back to the Jemell who is taking another long swig of his drink. You ask him about the stylus.
His head lowers a bit and he stares into his glass. “It was a gift from an old friend.”
You wonder if you press him on this, or maybe return to cleaning some glasses.