somethingwithturquoise | Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

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Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

Summer and Stark were, at this point, on their third space bar, and the evening had been going well. There was a little bit of space shopping before hand, to ensure that they looked their space best, and the first two space bars had been great. This one, however, was not impressing Summer very much, so it might not be too long before they found their way to Space Bar #4. She was pretty sure those were strands of 'Get Schwifty' mixed into whatever god-awful dub-step garbage the DJ was pumping out, and she was having some issues with the jerk bartender.

"That's so speciesist!" she declared. "You can't just assume I can't handle it just because I'm from Earth. I once huffed an entire K-Zax Array!"

"You huffed a Marlazzeh Gay?"

"No!" said Summer. "Well...maybe. I've had some pretty wild weekends lately, but what I said was K-Zax Array! Do you know what that is? That's like smoking The Ring, okay? Most pilots die after three days!"

"I still can't serve that to Earthlings. Federation law."

"Bitch," said Summer, "I destroyed the Federation!"

The bartender looked unimpressed.

"Ugh! Fine! Just...get me two of those glowing smoking ones in the fancy glasses, then, I guess."

And, once she had those two glowing smoking drinks in the fancy glasses, she drifted back over to where Stark was waiting to hand him one and then liberally take a drink from her own. "That bartender," she announced, "sucks. I swear to god, if you tip him over ten percent, I'm leaving you here."

She knew it would probably be impossible to convince Stark not to tip at all, so she figured that was a good compromise.

"....okay, fifteen percent," she allowed, looking at her drink, impressed, "because, damn, that's actually really good. Or I'm already really drunk. One of the two."

[[ for the egregiously modded alien with her, and NFB for distance, obvi ]]

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"I wonder if he would have served the other to me," Stark mused. "And I'm still tipping plenty of course I'm tipping plenty and you might be a little drunk." Maybe they both were. Space booze could do that, sometimes.

He took a tentative sip from his fancy glass, and then another larger one.

"It is good and it glows!"

He was easoly delighted, sometimes.

Especially when he might be a little drunk?

Summer grinned a little at Stark's clear approval of the drink, even if it wasn't exactly the really heavy stuff they brought out for the big aliens like she was hoping for, and then shook her head. "No way," she said. "I'll bet you anything that guy wouldn't believe you weren't from Earth. That guy's the kind of guy who sees any human-shaped bipedal with a certain range of skin tones and just assumes."

But it was fine. He still made a good drink, though she was probably going to need a few more of these if she was even going to start thinking this music was going to do anything for her right now.

Just a little drunk. Pleasantly tipsy? In any case he was feeling pretty happy.

"I could take off my mask to prove it," Stark pointed out before taking another sip. "But I'd rather not. Not here."

He would be happy to remove his mask later if there happened to be a request.

"They don't really know that much about Earth all the way out here, anyway," said Summer, "so I'm not even sure that would help, but, whatever, we're not here to call out dumb, uncultured bartenders. We're here to have fun. And drink weird space booze. And...who knows what else."

"Who knows," Stark echoed before draining his glass. "But I am having fun."

Just in case his general relaxed demeanor and the way he was smiling so often wasn't enough of a clue.

"We could...I don't know. Would you rather try another bar?"

Maybe there was somewhere they could dance? Besides on the ship with the disco ball.

"Maaaaybe," said Summer, not quite getting to the end of her drink yet, but giving it a thoughtful sip before narrowing her eyes judiciously around the place. "Probably. The vibe feels...off with this one, you know? Like, this definitely feels like the kind of bar where some nefarious character from my past is going to show up at any moment and remind me of some beef they have with me or my family that I've otherwise completely forgotten...."

And now she downed the drink.

"They make up for it with the drinks, though, damn."

"That was a very good drink," Stark agreed. "Should we look for a better vibe then? Maybe... maybe we could dance? Somewhere? Somewhere nobody is likely to have any problems with you? I don't think we're anywhere near anywhere I've been so I shouldn't have a problem but..."

He shrugged. You never knew!

Summer had to grin a little. "Hopefully," she said, "we can keep it that way, too. Although I kinda wanna go harass the DJ about his shit taste in music. You'd think with seven arms, he'd be able to spin at least one good song..."

"I'm not planning on getting into any fights," Stark said. "Not in bars. Not today. I really only did that the one time and he deserved it. You can harass the DJ if you like. Are they not playing what you want? What do you want playing?"

"I don't know," said Summer, wrinkling her nose a little, looking at her empty glass. "Not this. I can't really dance to this. Well, I could, but I'd rather dance to something else. Maybe if had another drink...."

She then lifted her brows at Stark thoughtfully, hopefully.

"Do you want to try and see if he'll serve you the Gruqikxxs stuff? I mean, that was the whole point in coming to this bar. I guess I just missed the memo on them apparently sticking to old Federation rules."

God, she hoped that didn't mean there was going to be another resurgence. Like, how many New, New Galactic Federations could there even be?

"I don't mind asking for the...Gruqikxxs stuff. Did I say that right? What is it? If he says no we can go somewhere else?"

"Gruqikxxs," said Summer, with a nod, and a barely perceptible shift in the pronunciation. Then, brows furrowed in a frown, she reconsidered. "Gruqikxxs? Gruqikxxs."

"Gesundheit," offered someone as they passed by, and Summer sighed.

"Whatever," she decided. "Close enough. But it's a hard liquor brewed specifically for Gruquikxxsites, who have literal rocks for stomachs, and I hear it'll really fuck you up fast. But, yes, if he says no to you, too, then we can go somewhere else."

"I don't want to be too 'fucked up'," Stark murmured. He had some hopes for how the rest of this excursion might go, after all.

He headed over to the bar, had an animated conversation with the bartender that involved lifting the edge of his mask, and finally returned to Summer looking indignant.

"He said 'You look like you're from Earth how am I supposed to know what they look like on the inside? Maybe you all glow!'"

And Summer very emphatically lifted her hands as if gesturing to the Point that she'd made all along, as if it was just hanging there in front of them. "See?" she said. "That's what I was telling you! That guy blows. This whole bar blows. Come on."

Linking her arm through Stark's, Summer started to make her way to the door, just as much to bring him along with her as it was to keep from being too wobbly on her heels, because, okay, it might not have been the hardcore Gruqikxxs stuff that could absorb through stone stomach linings, but that one drink they had wasn't messing around, either.

"We have a whole universe full of too many awesome bards to be wasting our time on this one."

"I'm not sure we can get through a whole universe of bars," Stark told her, using a wobble of Summer's to tug her a little closer.

"Your birthday was more than enough bars and that wasn't a whole universe!"

It had ended well though, that bar crawl. He hoped this one would too.

"Should we find somewhere to dance? Or somewhere that will let you drink rocket fuel?"

"That," said Summer, with a fond but hazy smile for the memories of that evening, which were...fuzzy, at best, and Stark probably didn't even need that tug, with how easily Summer leaned into him, "was twenty-one bars exactly, because it was my twenty-first birthday."

She was very proud of that detail, thank you; god, she was so smart sometimes!

"Think we can top that? Twenty-two? And I'd like both. Somewhere I can dance and drink rocket fuel. You know, I've smoked rocket fuel before. That was when I crashed a spaceship into God's skull."

A pause, especially as the cool night air of Planet....Wherever This Was...hit her face on exiting the doors of the bar.

"I'd rather not crash my ship into some god's skull tonight, though. I will," very adamant about that, thank you, "if I have to, but I'd rather just...not. You know?"

Stark grinned over at her a little dopily. "There were twenty-one and that was a lot. Do you really think we ought to try for more? We had to be helped home. Not you and I. There isn't anyone here to help us back to the ship if we need it and then how will you crash it if we can't get back?"

Stark frowned a little then. In part because of what he said and in part because he'd heard himself starting to babble and thought maybe he was a little drunk.

"Let's not crash the ship. I don't like crashing. Definitely not into skulls."

"We have the portal gun," Summer pointed out, "and the Portalocity app. Unless we lose our phones..."

She took a moment to pat at her hips for her pockets, remembered that even in space, cute little dresses still had no pockets, but she had a purse, and, good, good, she did still have her phone, and it was her phone, she didn't wander off with someone else's or something, and she was almost pulled in by the sweet lure of several notifications taunting her and begging her for attention and piquing her curiosity...

"Twenty-two would be a lot," she agreed. "For space bars. Earth booze is so amateur hour compared to space booze, anyway. And that wasn't my ship, so it was okay to crash it. I couldn't stand it if I crashed my ship, ohmygod. I love my ship."

A beat.

"Not like that."

Very important specification, and they were nearing where she'd parked it, now, anyway, and she just looked at it with a fond, proud little sigh.

"I mean...just look at her. That's a good ship, right there. Still can't believe tonight's the first time you've ever even been it, though, Stark, that's fucking wild."

"It's a very nice ship," Stark agreed, patting his own pocket to make sure his phone was still there. "Very nice. Very pretty."

Maybe he wasn't just talking about the ship.

"I'm glad I finally got to see it. See her. With you. Thank you. For bringing me."

"You're welcome," said Summer, with an important lift of her chin, but she was a little distracted by her phone after all. Since she had to dig around in her purse for her keys, she couldn't ignore the siren's call of all those notifications and was just checking real quick to make sure there weren't any, like, emergencies or whatever, because you never could tell! "Thank you for letting me drag you along."

You know, because there was a real concern there, that he'd have to go all kicking and screaming...

But, lest one thing lead to another with her phone, Summer shook her head a little and slipped it back in as she held up her keys.

"So!" she declared, with maybe a little more swaying than she cared to admit to. "Where to next?"

"Summer, you can drag me anywhere you like," Stark said with another dopey grin.

"Should we find another bar? With dancing? Or...we could just dance here. On your ship. You have the little shiny ball and everything and then you know you'll like the music and you won't have to fight any bartenders. Or...can it fly itself? At all? We could find another bar and...dance on the way? I like dancing with you."

It was probably time to pull Summer close again. Just in case.

When Stark pulled her in, Summer mistook the movement, at first, and thought she was just losing her balance, and that it was a good thing he was there for her to catch herself against, wasn't it? And maybe she clung to him a little bit, and all the talk of dancing brought a little more pink to her already flushed cheeks. They had already gotten some pretty good dancing at the last two, not terrible bars, too...

She shook her head a little. "No auto-pilot," she said, "too risky. But..." Her lean into Stark became significantly more intentional. "I might have an idea. It's not far from here; we'll portal most of the way there. And it's quiet. Private. I think," think seemed to sound an awful lot like know, "you'll like it."

If there was going to be leaning then Stark would just have to use both hands to steady Summer against him.

"Hmmm, I like private," he said, grinning at her. "Private is good. And you have good idea. I like your ideas."

"Mmmm. That's true," Summer agreed. "I do have pretty great ideas."

And she was just going to take a moment to revel in that. Almost long enough for her to nearly forget what she was reveling in in the first place, and then she remembered, and she grinned, patting a hand on Stark's chest before pulling away again to climb into the ship.

"Well," she said, "hop in, buckle up, and let's get going. This place's got the best bartender in the whole multiverse. And she's cute, too."

Stark's face fell when Summer stepped away but only for a moment.

"Oh? I know a very cute bartender," he said, as he followed her into the ship. "My favorite bartender is very cute. Very pretty. Very good at what she does. I wonder if they know each other?"

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