[he looks up at the menu after jon points at it, tapping his foot while reading through it. he really has no clue what any of these are, and he's never quite been someone to venture much into bars in the first place.]
[he gets the impression that dark means stronger taste whereas the light ones are softer.]
[still looking up, he leans forward a bit more to be heard over the crowd.]
Something... light, maybe? [his eyes frame towards jon's face, questioning] Just something that isn't too strong!
[he brings up the beer menu, scanning for the lowest alcohol content. he's been annotating it with his own tasting notes, remembering the aggressively hoppy beers from his arrival. he picks something mellow and malty with a low percentage, that he might serve to sansa, and fills a glass.]
Glad to be back in New Amsterdam?
[jon's not particularly. his tone is a little dry.]
[he takes the glass from jon, bringing it close to his mouth but apparently not convinced about tasting it just yet. the question comes as a distraction from the fact, but not from what he's trying to run away from.]
[he makes a face.]
I didn't mind the snow in New Tokyo too much. It-- could be better circumstances, I guess?
[it's a little vague, but for as much as prompto is trying to keep it cool, a heavy sigh escapes him, and it looks like there's something bothering him.]
[it's hard enough accepting the money when people at the safehouse pay him back for picking up their takeout. charging his friends goes against all of his instincts as a stark relative. he fishes out a lemon wedge from a small jar, offers it to prompto.]
Try this.
[he frowns briefly, hesitating. he's not one to pry, but prompto seems to want to talk about something?]
[eyebrow raised, he takes the lemon wedge and gives it a bit of a squeeze... before dumping it into his beer? is he supposed to do that? he isn't too particular about the customs and traditions of beer drinking.]
[the taste is only a bit brighter, if anything, but it's not something he would complain about.]
[he shakes his head at first, but then his mouth twists, changing his mind. the glass is set down, leaning back on his arms, hands on opposing elbows.]
My friends from home aren't here anymore. [there's a crease of his brows, like he's trying to not be upset about it.] Found out when I got back.
[it's not okay, but prompto has to keep telling himself that so that he doesn't go to a bad place of self-deprecation and loathing his own set of circumstances.]
[his eyes settle on his hands as his head lowers.]
Like you said, there's people here who care about me. I just gotta remember that.
[obviously, it's not so easy to put into practice.]
[there's— some of that feeling which pushes through the empathy bond, journeying from his hand to his chest, alight in the blue glow. the sadness that comes from harboring those one holds close even if they're gone.]
[it might be a little too much for prompto, who— slightly abruptly —takes his hand back. he uses it to rub at his eyes, a helplessly loud sniffle as he picks up his slouch and straightens his back.]
It's suspicious if our chest are all glow-y and stuff.
[he frowns; he's not used to physical touch nor comfort, and he's obviously very paranoid about the whole being displaced situation. sure has been here for a couple of months.]
Sorry. [is what's muttered, instead, biting down the inside of his cheek.] It's not like they're dead. I need to get a grip.
[it was the combined efforts of prompto's own pain and the one jon projected through his touch, pain which he seems to keep bottled up for himself alone, which caused the grief to rise further up. he simply shakes his head and shrugs, deciding to press face to his palm, taking on a stance despite the circumstances.]
It's no big.
[jon's only trying his best to help.]
It kinda makes sense to be upset at a bar, right? Great chance to drink it all away, as they say.
[this is where he attempts for a smile and a more relaxed posture.]
Don't think I'll actually drink myself to the point of getting really messed up. Maybe you guys got orange juice? [he is not joking] Hey, does this place got one of those VR dart target boards?
[he's turning around on the stool, looking around to see if he can find his current whim and desire.]
[aw, bummer. he watches the darts longingly before turning back around on the stool to face jon, seemingly a little more enthused—maybe he just knows how to play it like a fool easy enough.]
Seriously! Alright, gimme a minute to brace myself. I'm a big fan of lemonade, you know!
[the wholesomest boy to ever wholesome]
But, when you get a break, we gotta do the darts stuff. Just one game!
[he looks up at the menu, half curious, and finds his smile widening more. it's sweet in a reassuring kind of way. how good for his friends to have people they love around.]
Right. Hold that thought—
[and there goes his brave attempt, picking up his glass of beer and bringing it up to his lips, eyes closed as he chugs down the liquid without taking a break to breathe. he's going hard or going home.]
[he's got a finger up as if pausing their conversation, and it's clear from the frown on his face that he isn't entirely a fan. soon, however, prompto breaks away to breathe, his glass now empty.]
Bleugh!
[still not a fan—but probably also not the way to drink this.]
[at the hair color reference. prompto more than gladly takes the lemonade and takes a slow sip of it, happy to clear his palate from the taste of beer.]
—hm, honey? In beer? That's just weird.
How come you know so much about beer? Other than it being your job, I mean. You're not that much older than me. Do I get knowledge on beers and drinks soon as I turn certain age?
[it was HARD WORK, googling all these things when you're not used to google...]
And I tasted all we had here, wrote down what I thought of each. The names they give them...aren't much to go by. I have to know what I'm serving. Oftentimes people will tell me what they're looking for, and I'll have to find it.
[he chokes a little on the drink. oh gods, the fact that someone considers his picture-taking as "work" is equal parts flattering and equal parts mortifying. mostly because he actually wishes he could say that it was his job—yet it isn't.]
Uh...
[also, the vent adventure is enough to make him feel a little embarrassed altogether.]
I work as an electrician. In training, mostly. For the trains and trams and stuff. [his clarification is not a super good one, but.] I'm pretty small so I fit into the vents when we need to reach a control panel or something. I only got lost the one time!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[he gets the impression that dark means stronger taste whereas the light ones are softer.]
[still looking up, he leans forward a bit more to be heard over the crowd.]
Something... light, maybe? [his eyes frame towards jon's face, questioning] Just something that isn't too strong!
no subject
It's not strong, it's ale.
[he brings up the beer menu, scanning for the lowest alcohol content. he's been annotating it with his own tasting notes, remembering the aggressively hoppy beers from his arrival. he picks something mellow and malty with a low percentage, that he might serve to sansa, and fills a glass.]
Glad to be back in New Amsterdam?
[jon's not particularly. his tone is a little dry.]
no subject
[he takes the glass from jon, bringing it close to his mouth but apparently not convinced about tasting it just yet. the question comes as a distraction from the fact, but not from what he's trying to run away from.]
[he makes a face.]
I didn't mind the snow in New Tokyo too much. It-- could be better circumstances, I guess?
[it's a little vague, but for as much as prompto is trying to keep it cool, a heavy sigh escapes him, and it looks like there's something bothering him.]
no subject
Don't worry about it.
[it's hard enough accepting the money when people at the safehouse pay him back for picking up their takeout. charging his friends goes against all of his instincts as a stark relative. he fishes out a lemon wedge from a small jar, offers it to prompto.]
Try this.
[he frowns briefly, hesitating. he's not one to pry, but prompto seems to want to talk about something?]
Is--something the matter?
no subject
[the taste is only a bit brighter, if anything, but it's not something he would complain about.]
[he shakes his head at first, but then his mouth twists, changing his mind. the glass is set down, leaning back on his arms, hands on opposing elbows.]
My friends from home aren't here anymore. [there's a crease of his brows, like he's trying to not be upset about it.] Found out when I got back.
no subject
I'm sorry to hear that.
[the possibility of continuing on without sansa is one he's faced before, but arya had been there then. he'd had to hold on for her sake.
anyway loss is loss. there's nothing jon could say to make it better.]
You still have people here who care about you.
no subject
[it's not okay, but prompto has to keep telling himself that so that he doesn't go to a bad place of self-deprecation and loathing his own set of circumstances.]
[his eyes settle on his hands as his head lowers.]
Like you said, there's people here who care about me. I just gotta remember that.
[obviously, it's not so easy to put into practice.]
no subject
Aye.
[he reaches out and covers one of prompto's hands with his own.
it's impossible not to think about those he lost, both those left behind (arya, the wolves, bran and rickon, his mother--), and the dead.]
no subject
[it might be a little too much for prompto, who— slightly abruptly —takes his hand back. he uses it to rub at his eyes, a helplessly loud sniffle as he picks up his slouch and straightens his back.]
It's suspicious if our chest are all glow-y and stuff.
[he frowns; he's not used to physical touch nor comfort, and he's obviously very paranoid about the whole being displaced situation. sure has been here for a couple of months.]
Sorry. [is what's muttered, instead, biting down the inside of his cheek.] It's not like they're dead. I need to get a grip.
no subject
Sorry--I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to--you have every right to mourn.
[it doesn't help that he's used to thicker clothing than this. he has exhausted all his usual avenues of comfort and now he doesn't know what to do.]
Arya was safe enough at home, but I miss her still. I know Sansa does as well.
[it doesn't help how unhappy she seemed to be with the faceless men.]
no subject
It's no big.
[jon's only trying his best to help.]
It kinda makes sense to be upset at a bar, right? Great chance to drink it all away, as they say.
[not that he's going to.]
no subject
I don't think it works. But I'll fill your cup. I won't let you drink yourself sick, though.
[he'll just...be here. he wishes there was more he could do.]
And I'll see you home safely, I promise.
no subject
[this is where he attempts for a smile and a more relaxed posture.]
Don't think I'll actually drink myself to the point of getting really messed up. Maybe you guys got orange juice? [he is not joking] Hey, does this place got one of those VR dart target boards?
[he's turning around on the stool, looking around to see if he can find his current whim and desire.]
no subject
Aye, orange juice, lemonsweet, cranberry...for the vodka and gin.
[is prompto trying to order another drink? there are darts, but some old men are having a contest]
Finish your beer and I'll make you a juice drink.
[honestly prompto that is probably coming out of his paycheck.]
no subject
Seriously! Alright, gimme a minute to brace myself. I'm a big fan of lemonade, you know!
[the wholesomest boy to ever wholesome]
But, when you get a break, we gotta do the darts stuff. Just one game!
no subject
So is Sansa. I made up a drink for her of lemonsweet and arbor--gold wine.
[if he looks at the menu he'll see a very small list of specialty cocktails, including 'the sansa: lemonsweet and house gold.']
There's darts on line, you know. We could play at the--house, if you wanted. Anytime.
no subject
[he looks up at the menu, half curious, and finds his smile widening more. it's sweet in a reassuring kind of way. how good for his friends to have people they love around.]
Right. Hold that thought—
[and there goes his brave attempt, picking up his glass of beer and bringing it up to his lips, eyes closed as he chugs down the liquid without taking a break to breathe. he's going hard or going home.]
[he's got a finger up as if pausing their conversation, and it's clear from the frown on his face that he isn't entirely a fan. soon, however, prompto breaks away to breathe, his glass now empty.]
Bleugh!
[still not a fan—but probably also not the way to drink this.]
no subject
a few people turn to watch as it becomes clear he intends to chug the entire pint. one person claps when he finishes.]
That was a good blonde ale.
[not a two dollar pbr!!! jon shakes his head.]
Do you want your lemonsweet now, or should I wait 'til you get thirsty again?
no subject
Just whatever gets this taste offa me.
[smiling shakily at the other patrons and raising a hand in half-hearted thanks, pushing the glass over towards jon.]
What's a blond ale 'nyway?
no subject
It matches your hair.
[he starts to reach his hand like he's going to tug a lock, but prompto's head is too far away, so he drops it.]
It's supposed to be easy to drink. Well-rounded. Not too many hops on the tongue.
[some of the ipas here....it seems like people are competing to make the worst tasting beer.]
This one had honey in it.
[he sets about cleaning prompto's pint glass.]
no subject
[at the hair color reference. prompto more than gladly takes the lemonade and takes a slow sip of it, happy to clear his palate from the taste of beer.]
—hm, honey? In beer? That's just weird.
How come you know so much about beer? Other than it being your job, I mean. You're not that much older than me. Do I get knowledge on beers and drinks soon as I turn certain age?
no subject
I read about it. For my job.
[it was HARD WORK, googling all these things when you're not used to google...]
And I tasted all we had here, wrote down what I thought of each. The names they give them...aren't much to go by. I have to know what I'm serving. Oftentimes people will tell me what they're looking for, and I'll have to find it.
no subject
Yeah, drinks are kinda weird like that.
You like this kinda job?
no subject
I don't mind it.
[mixing drinks was probably the easiest of his stewarding duties. everything else he learned to do was useless or illegal here.]
What do you do for work? Besides the pictures. Sansa said you were stuck in a vent.
no subject
Uh...
[also, the vent adventure is enough to make him feel a little embarrassed altogether.]
I work as an electrician. In training, mostly. For the trains and trams and stuff. [his clarification is not a super good one, but.] I'm pretty small so I fit into the vents when we need to reach a control panel or something. I only got lost the one time!
(no subject)
(no subject)