[ Oh, they'll get along just fine—a thought she acknowledges more subconsciously than anything, in reaction to the way he eases into place at the counter. Her own bag gets set aside opposite his, quickly abandoned so that she can peruse the rainbow of bottles for particulars and familiarity.
Her hands reach for those bottles carefully, less for their fragility and more because she's trying to trusts her memory as she pulls an assortment. ]
Simple. To start.
[ Echoed with the sound of the smirk on her face as she collects a few clear and a few dark liquors. Rather than ask his preference, it's easier, she figures, to just make a matching pair of her own favorites. While she considers, she rummages for tools—spoons, ice, produce, glasses&mdash. As many times as she's gone out for drinks, she's never been on this side, and her bar at home is quite simple.
Memory, again, is dredged up as she chooses what's most likely the correct glassware, setting one tall and slim, and one short and broad glass on the counter. From here, it's just a matter of double checking the bottles with a smell (and, in one case, a quick taste from a shot glass), before she pours, in full and unassuming view. And as heavily as she promised, no jigger in sight.
Into the short glass goes (relatively) equal parts of whiskey and amaretto. Into the tall glass, goes quite a lot of gin, a bit of syrup, and some lemon. Each gets stirred (with the same spoon, after a quick rinse) and they're both generously iced. She presents both, without flourish and without napkins, to Midnight. ]
Highball-style drinks are popular in Japan. [ A gesture to the clear drink—a very gin-forward Tom Collins-esque mix. ] But I like a whiskey drink too, now and then.
no subject
Her hands reach for those bottles carefully, less for their fragility and more because she's trying to trusts her memory as she pulls an assortment. ]
Simple. To start.
[ Echoed with the sound of the smirk on her face as she collects a few clear and a few dark liquors. Rather than ask his preference, it's easier, she figures, to just make a matching pair of her own favorites. While she considers, she rummages for tools—spoons, ice, produce, glasses&mdash. As many times as she's gone out for drinks, she's never been on this side, and her bar at home is quite simple.
Memory, again, is dredged up as she chooses what's most likely the correct glassware, setting one tall and slim, and one short and broad glass on the counter. From here, it's just a matter of double checking the bottles with a smell (and, in one case, a quick taste from a shot glass), before she pours, in full and unassuming view. And as heavily as she promised, no jigger in sight.
Into the short glass goes (relatively) equal parts of whiskey and amaretto. Into the tall glass, goes quite a lot of gin, a bit of syrup, and some lemon. Each gets stirred (with the same spoon, after a quick rinse) and they're both generously iced. She presents both, without flourish and without napkins, to Midnight. ]
Highball-style drinks are popular in Japan. [ A gesture to the clear drink—a very gin-forward Tom Collins-esque mix. ] But I like a whiskey drink too, now and then.